For Every Season (28 page)

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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

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“Because he didn’t like you having a car, or because he needed the money that badly?”

“Yes.”

His smile seemed to say he approved of her and understood where she was coming from. She liked that. Most men didn’t realize what it was like to grow up in a patriarchal society where a daughter’s opinion often counted only slightly more than a dog’s. At least that’s how it had worked in her household.

Jacob rolled down his window a tad.

She turned off the heat. “My mom was hoping I’d come here and find work for at least some of my family.”

“It’s possible we could hire a few men in a couple of years, but we’re not
there yet. We’ll hire pickers for the harvest, but if they’ve never done this kind of work, they probably wouldn’t move fast enough to be worth their pay.”

She pulled into the driveway. “I doubt any kind of work for Kings’ Orchard is right for them anyway.”

“How so?”

She eased toward Landon’s usual parking spot. “They’d need to do as Rhoda instructed. I imagine they’d quit the first day and lodge a complaint with the church leaders.”

“Or they’d adjust. Samuel knew that she was skilled and that Kings’ Orchard needed her skills, but he struggled to work with her at first. I was the go-between. If I hadn’t been, those two would’ve gone their separate ways long before the tornado came through the orchard. My Daed hated the idea of partnering with a woman. He about choked to death when Samuel first mentioned the idea.”

Once in the right spot, she turned off the engine. “And you?”

“I think businesses, Amish
and
Englisch, are overlooking amazing resources if they can’t see that women approach business problems so differently from men. And when they’re combined on the same team, it creates a powerhouse where everyone wins.”

She removed the keys from the ignition.

He opened the truck door. “You’re a good driver, and apparently stepping out into the unknown is one of your skills.”

He paused, searching the different areas of the farm. The dogs weren’t in sight and weren’t barking. Jacob strode toward the house. Iva followed, appreciating his sentiments. After spending a little time around the King family, she felt like a new person—one who could dare to dream and believe it’d be okay to pursue parts of those dreams.

Jacob entered the kitchen. “Hey.”

Steven sat at the table, coloring on a book with his son. “Hallo. Welcome back, you two.”

Of all the people on this farm, Steven was the hardest to read. He looked perturbed with Jacob, but was he?

Jacob looked through the window that faced the orchard. “Where is everybody?”

Steven took a crayon from his son. “Phoebe is resting with Arie. Leah’s out with Landon because she’s in her
rumschpringe
and has that right. My sister is at Camilla’s, because that’s where she lives.”

There it was—a hint of accusation wrapped inside an honest answer.

Steven set the crayon down. “And Samuel is at Camilla’s because Bob came by about an hour ago and asked him to join them there.”

Jacob frowned. “Why?”

“Camilla was injured in a car accident on Friday, and Samuel and Rhoda were the ones to call for help. I think Camilla wanted to see both of them to say thank you.”

When Jacob’s eyes met Iva’s, she saw frustration and maybe distress.

Iva jingled the keys. “I need to get the truck back to Landon. Would you like for me to drop you off over there?”

“That’d be nice. Thanks.”

Steven studied her. “Perhaps if everything has been handled in the Englisch world for now, you’d like to change first and address your hair.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her outfit. It was an A-line dress with tiny flowers, and the short sleeves were covered with a jacket. It seemed quite modest to her, but apparently Steven found it unacceptable. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, which she believed kept her from appearing Amish while helping Sandra move. “Right away.”

She scurried up the stairs, and in less than two minutes, she was in an Amish dress. Since the apron needed straight pins to put it in place, she simply slid a coat over her dress, hoping Steven wouldn’t notice. While winding her hair into an Amish bun, she hurried down the stairs, her prayer Kapp between her lips.

When she didn’t spot Jacob, she went outside. He was leaning against the truck. Despite his laid-back posture, she noticed the irritated glint in his eyes.

“Sorry.” She put on her prayer Kapp, hoping it’d stay in place until she had time to pin it.

“You’re fine.” He climbed into the truck.

She turned the key. “I tried to hurry.”

He said nothing.

She tried to think of something to say. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that I worked out a plan with Sandra so you two can keep in touch. She’ll write to the farm but not put her name or address on the envelope. Since I pick up the mail, I’ll get rid of the envelope before passing you the letter. Then you won’t know where she is … until you’ve finished testifying. We got her a new phone so you can’t reach her that way, but I can call her and relay whatever you need. It’s a little convoluted, but it won’t matter after the trials.”

“Thanks, Iva. I appreciate it.” His tone sounded empty. “What are the chances of some misfortune happening every time I go out of town?”

“Life’s busy. Always something going on. So I’d say it depends on how often and for how long you’re gone.”

He propped his elbow on the truck door and sighed, staring into the distance. “I have to get Rhodes away from here.”

“Away from the farm?”

He blinked, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“I won’t say anything, but I bet Rhoda would have an opinion. Isn’t she like half of the heart of the orchard?”

“Half.” He mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

Iva slowed at an intersection. “Which way?”

“Left. When we come to the next intersection, you can let me out, and I’ll walk from there. If you go right after about two miles, you’ll know where you are and can easily find your way to Landon’s.”

“You sure? I don’t mind taking you all the way to the Cranfords’.”

“There are a lot of twists and turns after that, and I’m afraid you’d get mixed up trying to get from there to Landon’s. It’ll be hard for him to take you back to the farm if you can’t get to his place.”

“True.” She suppressed a yawn. “If you took Rhoda away, wouldn’t you miss the farm like she would?”

“I don’t think so. I never really wanted to spend my days working in an
orchard. I was fourteen when I moved to Lancaster to apprentice as a carpenter with my uncle. My dream was to start my own business one day. That desire is part of why I left to work for other construction companies. I wanted to learn all there was. That passion consumed me. But then I hit that troubled spot and had to return home. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve made my peace with it. Then Rhoda stepped onto the farm, and life became more than I knew was possible.”

“So if you were without family obligations, what would you do?”

He released a whispery scoff. “Something I was too broken to do before meeting Rhoda—carpentry work.” He sighed.

Seeing how Jacob loved Rhoda only made Iva want to find someone who would love her in the same way. “Couldn’t you start a carpentry business here?”

“Maybe.”

“But that’d defeat your desire to move elsewhere with Rhoda.” Who could blame him? Rhoda and Samuel were constantly together, and she could only guess that’s what had him so upset right now.

“Something like that. Thanks to my brilliant plans, the Kings now own two orchards, one here and one in Pennsylvania. There are only three King sons, and I’m the one who convinced Samuel and Rhoda to establish this one. How can I abandon that?”

Her interest peaked. “You have another brother?”

Jacob turned, staring at her.

“Don’t get quiet on me now.” She grinned. “Is he committed to someone or drowning in grief for a lost love?”

“Not that I know of. He’s nineteen.”

She’d be twenty-two in another two months. With the intersection coming up, she pulled to the side of the road. “Hmm. I’d be considered an older woman, but I could live with that if he could.” She laughed, teasing. “No! I’ve got it. Why don’t you swap places with him? You and Rhoda go there. He comes here. Forget the canning business for the Maine orchard. I want to meet a King who’s not committed to or grieving over someone.”

Jacob studied her. “You know”—he opened the truck door—“that’s not a completely bad idea. We can’t afford to forget the canning business, but does
that mean Rhoda has to live here the other nine months of the year? Maybe in a few years, Leah could head up this canning operation.” He got out, looking in at her. “Thanks, Iva. For everything.”

“You be sure to tell Rhoda and Samuel I’m a vital part of this business.” She pointed at him. “Do not let them send me back to Indiana.”

“I won’t.”

While she watched Jacob walk down the road, Iva wondered if that third King brother was anything like Samuel and Jacob—capable of caring deeply and believing women were as valuable as men.

If so, she’d certainly like to meet him.

TWENTY-SIX

Snippets of images hounded Rhoda as friendly chitchat went around the room. From her place on the couch next to Samuel, she tried to stay tuned in, but it seemed impossible.

In her mind’s eye Rhoda imagined Camilla as a young mom.

Tell them
.

This time the phrase
tell them
was her own voice, simply nudging her to speak up. When she’d first heard the words, it’d been terrifying. The voice had been very strange—a young man’s voice one moment, a child’s the next. It’d happened during Rhoda’s first night at the farm. Only Leah, Phoebe, and the children were with her. She awoke between three and four in the morning.

Jacob had been with Sandra. Landon was still driving up to the farm and pulling a trailer. Samuel was with him. Steven was on a train with the livestock.

The stress of the move had been unbearable, and she’d thought her mind was playing tricks on her.

Samuel cleared his throat. “Rhoda.”

She blinked, turning on the love seat to face him.

He angled his head for a moment and chuckled. “I think she’s speechless.”

But she knew he was covering for her, aware she’d heard nothing.

“Your offer to build Rhoda a canning kitchen on the farm is extraordinary, but …” He let the sentence dangle, waiting on her.

“Oh.” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard that. “No. We couldn’t let you do that. You’re wonderful friends, but that is too much. Way, way too much.”

Bob sat in a ladder-back chair next to Camilla’s recliner and held her hand.
They’d put a love seat on the other side of her, up close, and had insisted Rhoda and Samuel share it.

Camilla frowned, looking more frustrated than hurt. “You’re not listening, are you? Where is your mind tonight—with that beau of yours?”

“Easy, Camilla. They’ve had a rough few nights too.” Bob picked up a glass of water and passed it to his wife.

Rhoda straightened. “No, I’m not thinking about Jacob at all.” Should she tell Camilla where her thoughts were?

Bob took some papers out of a drawer. “Our money is making nothing right now. It’s just sitting in a bank.” He passed the papers to Samuel. “Those are plats of your land, and I’ve marked several areas where a kitchen could be built, spots where you could easily get a building permit. You’d have to avoid being too close to the farmhouse, the creek, and the road. Other than that, there are several good sites on the fifteen acres that aren’t being used for the orchard, house, barn, driveways, or greenhouses.”

Samuel unfolded a two-foot-by-three-foot piece of paper. “How is it you have this layout of our property?”

“Camilla and I have been discussing this since Rhoda received the news that the farmhouse can’t serve as a canning kitchen. Rhoda hasn’t found anything close by that can be rented or renovated to meet your needs. Camilla did some checking, and she didn’t find anything either. A few weeks back I was at the courthouse to renew my car tags, so I went by the tax assessor’s office and got someone to help me pull the plat for your property.”

Samuel studied it.

Rhoda placed her hand in the middle of the plat, breaking Samuel’s view. “It’s very good of them, isn’t it?”

Samuel nodded. “Very.”

Rhoda turned to Camilla. “But we can’t.”

Camilla handed her glass back to Bob. “Is it because the Amish can’t strike a business deal with us?”

Samuel shook his head. “No. We can in some cases. Since Steven knows the situation and he’s our church leader, that could help a lot.”

Rhoda wanted to pinch Samuel, but she settled for giving him a stern
look. “I don’t agree with this and would appreciate you backing me up, not them.”

The serious lines on his face said she was asking for an argument in front of Bob and Camilla. What position could he possibly take that she’d agree with? He probably thought that Camilla needed to make this offer out of gratitude and that Kings’ Orchard needed a boost if God chose to give it one. Those points were not enough to accept an unwarranted gift.

Rhoda folded her hands in her lap. “We appreciate the offer.”

“Perhaps”—Samuel leaned in, whispering—“our answer needs to be ‘We’ll think about it.’ ”

“No. I don’t need any time, but thank you.”

Camilla closed her eyes, shaking her head. “If this suggestion is allowable for the Amish, and if Bob invests in small businesses whenever he sees fit, why not?”

“I’m living with you rent free. You invite me to eat with you regularly. I use your kitchen to experiment with recipes. You get up with me in the morning, and we share a meal and coffee. You are very generous to me. But
this
is too much. Besides …” Rhoda wrestled with whether to mention Camilla did have family. She was almost sure of it. But was her friend up to hearing it?

“Go on.”

Rhoda moved to the edge of the couch. “Let’s talk later. You need to rest.”

“I don’t need rest. I need you to be less stubborn.” Camilla peered around. “Samuel, is she always like this?”

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