Totally unapproachable, speaking only when spoken to, the Amish seemed impossible to get to know unless, of course, the one wanting to know them was A...ish too. Whether they were Mennonite or Amish, especially the older members of their closed communities, both had expressionless eyes and emotionless faces that were difficult for her to read. They had the same dead eyes and stone cold faces that people have when they’ve been held against their wills and forced to do things that they didn’t want. There was a man named Howard Johns. He was extremely rich and fairly intelligent and had a large plantation inland from Savannah. He was a slave owner and raised quarter horses. Johns was not happy, however, because his three children, two boys, one girl, were wastrels and fools. He felt none worthy to carry on what he had created. By the time Johns saw his own end approaching, it had occurred to him that he had been cheated by life. The thing he respected most, intelligence, was missing from. And did he think of me during all those years? Like I thought of him? How many nights did he fall asleep, his hands holding his erection, wishing it were my hand holding him? As many as I did, using my fingers to ease the pain I felt from not having his body on mine, his hardness inside me where it belonged? All those years lost, the nights we could have been together, making love like we did before it all went to hell. Before I destroyed it all with my stupidity.And what made it even worse for. In the back of his mind, he was worried about becoming a distraction to the students and staff at the high school. He worried what everyone else might think if he started dating so soon after his divorce. He worried about what his ex-mother-in-law might say.And truth be told, he also worried about falling in love again only to have his heart broken a second time."You can ask her to dance."The words shook Jake out of his contemplative state. He looked around, trying to see if anyone else may.
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