For Every Season (30 page)

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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

BOOK: For Every Season
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“Then we should talk.” Jacob smiled.

“I look forward to that.” She squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow when you pick me up to take me to the farm?”

Disappointment flashed through his eyes, but he nodded and stood.

“I’d love to tonight.” Rhoda rose. “But I’m exhausted. Is your rig here?”

“Iva dropped me off.”

Bob pulled some keys from his pocket. “I drove Samuel here. Come on. I’ll give you men a lift back to the farm, and the womenfolk can crawl into bed early.”

Rhoda walked with Jacob to the porch while Bob and Samuel went on to the car.

Jacob gazed into her eyes. “It’ll be different for us from here on. I may have a few more responsibilities to fulfill, but because of the immunity, I’m free, Rhoda. You’re the only one who could’ve gotten me to do carpentry work again. You’re the only reason I did what had to be done so I could get cleared. And you’re the only one for me.” He leaned in, kissing her on the lips. “I’ll be here an hour earlier than usual so we can talk, and we won’t stop making time to talk for the rest of our lives.”

Every word was filled with a promise, and he meant them. She knew he did. “I look forward to a fresh start in the morning.” And she did, but she was apprehensive too. His words would be soft-spoken and kind, even interlaced with humor and understanding, but he’d ask hard questions, ones she wouldn’t have an answer for, like how did she and Samuel seem to be inseparable when he was away?

Circumstances just seemed to work out that way, but Jacob had a right to feel frustrated.

And yet, in some ways he didn’t.

All of that aside, she was hopeful. He saw what they needed, and he was committed to her in ways that had been impossible before now.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The sun had yet to rise as Jacob waited in the buggy outside the Cranfords’ house. It was too early to tap on their door, and Rhoda was usually waiting for him on the porch when he arrived. He didn’t see any lights on.

Now what?

He supposed he’d wait. She’d certainly done plenty of that for him.

It had been impossible to sleep last night. Without realizing it, Iva had made crystal clear that there was a romantic relationship of some kind between Samuel and Rhoda. Well,
crystal clear
might be the wrong words. His thoughts about Rhoda were almost as muddied as ever, but he knew his brother was in love.

Was it Samuel’s fault? Was it Jacob’s? Maybe the responsibility belonged to both of them to some degree. But accountability wasn’t the most important part. The only thing that really mattered was where Jacob and Rhoda landed in the end.

She didn’t need to live on the farm and be near Samuel. Jacob was confident of that. The question was how to convince Rhoda.

If he could, he’d whisk her away from Maine. Maybe Iva’s playful idea wasn’t altogether silly. Rhoda loved tending fruit and canning. Jacob had a newfound urge to try his hand at carpentry again. He thought he was finally free to pursue that—not just physically but also emotionally. The Pennsylvania orchard had a summer kitchen that she loved. It had been damaged by the tornado, but it could be repaired. Of course they had moved all the equipment to Maine, and it was now in storage in the barn. But that could be replaced. Anything could be replaced—except Rhoda.

As the sun rose, spreading bright pink and orange hues across the sky, he continued to stare at the house. Where was she?

His mind continued to churn with frustrations and half-baked solutions. Finally the front door opened, and Rhoda stepped outside.

He hopped out of the carriage and hurried to open her door.

“Sorry.” She slid her arms into her sweater while walking toward him. “I overslept.”

“Guder Marye.” He bowed.

She laughed softly before placing her warm cheek against his cold face. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” He wasn’t going to lose this woman. If he had to abandon the family business and disown his brother in order to keep her, he’d do it. “Anyone who’s battled mother nature and won, or at least mostly won, deserves to sleep in.”

She kissed him on the cheek and then wiped the same spot, her eyes admiring him. “This is our new beginning.”

“Absolutely.”

She climbed into the buggy. Clearly, she was pleased to see him last night and today. That helped. A lot. It was a far cry from the last time he’d returned, when he found out Samuel had kissed her only moments earlier, and it was a world better than what he’d feared most of yesterday.

He went back around the vehicle and grabbed the reins. As he pulled onto the main road, one question hounded him: How would she feel about the idea of moving to Pennsylvania? She could still do what she loved to do—tend to fruit crops and can. And Jacob would get what he wanted—distance between Samuel and her.

Of course, he couldn’t yet afford to buy land or a house there. The Pennsylvania orchard wouldn’t produce enough work or income to support him, Rhoda, and Eli full-time, not for years yet. But he and Rhoda could live on the King farm. She and Eli could work the orchard, and he could …

A desire that had been niggling its way free for days, maybe months, finally overtook him. Passion and excitement ignited.

Construction work!

He could work for his uncle, doing the vocation he’d once loved. From his first weeks of knowing Rhoda, she’d helped him learn to love it again. He could hire a driver to take him to and from Lancaster every day.

Now
that
wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“I really am sorry for being so late.” She stretched, yawning. “But, oh, how good that bed felt this morning.”

“Forgiven. You’ve certainly had to wait on me plenty. But that time is over. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

Despite hugging him moments ago and her encouraging words, her voice sounded hollow, similar to when he used to call her while he was away. He’d spend the day looking forward to talking to her, but once on the phone, he felt less connected, not more.

He came to a yield sign and then headed away from the farm. “It was dark when I got to the farm last night and when I left this morning. How do the buds look?”

“Healthy.” She tightened her sweater. “Didn’t you ask that last night?”

“I did.” But right now he was aiming for something peaceful to talk about, and since the only thing coming to his mind were daydreams of their imminent return to Pennsylvania, he couldn’t think of much to say. “How’s your family back home?”

She blinked. “Fine.” She sounded a bit perplexed. “You’ve never asked about them before.”

Jacob stifled a sigh and shrugged. Why was she right next to him and yet seemed so far away? The answer, obviously, was Samuel.

Jacob wasn’t sure what irked him most—the fact that he had been the one to cajole her into moving to Maine or that she was so tied to the orchard he couldn’t imagine her leaving it for months.

When Samuel had wavered on whether Rhoda and he could work together, Jacob had helped smooth the way, thinking it’d give him good reasons to be near her and it’d give him time to get to know her. Now he wished he’d
let Samuel and Rhoda go their separate ways during any one of the arguments that’d threatened to end their partnership.

But no … he just
had
to be the peacekeeper.

“How did the deposition go?”

“Good, I suppose. It’s hard to dissect months of mistakes while lawyers are asking so many questions.”

“Ya. I can imagine.”

He reached for her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me about Camilla having a grandchild?”

She squeezed his fingers reassuringly. “It wasn’t intentional. You and I have dealt with a lot this past year. And when we’re together, we don’t talk about those kinds of things.”

“So what do we talk about?”

She smiled, her sincerity evident. “You tell me jokes and make me laugh. You harass me, trying to put melted marshmallow in my hair or pulling on my coattails while I’m working. We’ve mostly talked about Sandra and the troubles you walked into.”

“That’s it?” Wasn’t there more between them than childish playfulness and Jacob’s burdens?

“We’re us. Who else do we need to be? You see me better than I see myself, and you helped me find laughter again.” She held his hand with both of hers. “I accepted your many secrets, and we’ve traveled that bumpy road together. You made me look at the facts concerning Emma’s death—that even though I knew what was going to happen, I couldn’t have gotten there in time.”

He’d have preferred for her to recall more touching things and end her explanation with a proclamation of love. “When did you first get a hunch about Camilla having a grandchild?”

“My first night on the farm.”

“Ah.” He tried to sound nonchalant. “When did Samuel know?”

Her face flushed. “I … I’m not sure.”

“Not sure? What does that mean?” He sounded like a jealous boyfriend
again. He hated that. If his humor drew her to him, would his suspicions push her away?

“I wanted to talk to him that night, but he said I had you for that. Then I mentioned it again at some point because it was hounding me, and you were staying with Sandra.” She played with the edges of her sweater. “Jacob, he’s a good brother. He worked hard and avoided me like I was the plague most of the time you were gone. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but I grew angry that you weren’t here and Samuel wasn’t available. He’d disappear to the farthest parts of the orchard. When the pressure got so bad because of my legal issues, Samuel feared I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Then he stopped hiding from me because I needed some support. Would you want any less?”

She had a way of making him look at things differently.

“No, he did the right thing.” Jacob could see that his brother had tried to stay loyal to him, and he wanted to feel that was enough. Biting back his jealousy, he lifted her hand and kissed it. “I understand.” He swallowed hard. “But is it possible you and Samuel are too close?”

She didn’t flinch as she turned her gaze out the window. An uncomfortable silence filled the carriage, but he resisted the desire to prod her.

She finally nodded. “That thought crossed my mind while you were in Virginia.”

Hurt engulfed him, and indignation against Samuel burned. Jacob fought the temptation to withdraw into himself and say nothing.

He lowered the visor on the front windshield, blocking the sun. “But”—he cleared his throat, trying to find his voice—“you still want to marry me, right?”

“Jacob,”—disbelief radiated in her eyes—“are
you
having second thoughts?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Then why would you ask me that?”

“I feel insecure about us. Can you blame me?”

She sighed. “I’m doing all I know to prevent that. What else can I do?”

He had the answer. It was as clear as the cloudless spring day ahead of them. They needed to get away from Samuel as soon as possible. But Jacob feared if he suggested that right now, it would be too much of a shock to her
and possibly challenge her desire to marry him. And he knew they needed nothing else to undermine them at the moment.

Nothing.

He shrugged, and she looked out the window.

Thoughts of walking on the beach by himself mere days ago came to him, and it seemed the lostness between Rhoda and him right now was as vast as the breadth and depth of the ocean he’d once enjoyed.

For the life of him, he couldn’t see a way to get her to leave Maine for months to come. He’d love to. But even if he could get permission to marry her outside of the wedding season, they couldn’t do so until he went through instruction and joined the faith. That’d take the rest of the summer. Besides, she wouldn’t leave Kings’ Orchard in a bind, and she’d need months to train Leah and Iva to handle the canning business without her—
if
she was willing to leave the work in their hands. Landon knew a lot about Rhoda’s side of the business. He’d been with her for years, and Jacob was sure he’d stay here, near Leah. That was good.

But for now all Jacob could do was stay close to Rhoda, be the man she’d fallen in love with, and go through the steps to join the faith.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Sunlight dispersed through the greenhouse like a soft glow from a halo as Rhoda watered the herbs. Her thoughts were as numerous as the drops of water spraying from the hose. The battle with the frost had been over for almost a week, and by all outward signs, it appeared they’d won. So why did she feel so defeated?

She ran her fingers across the petals of the scarlet bergamot and the soft, leafy gray greens of sage. Almost two months ago the police had returned these containers with mostly dead plants, but she’d nursed them back to health—or planted new ones. Could she be as successful in cultivating her relationship with Jacob?

Landon opened the door, the backpack with his computer on his shoulder. “There you are.”

“I thought you were staying home today to update the website.”

“I was, but a couple of things about the site came up that I need to talk to you about before I approach Samuel with them in a few days … or weeks, whenever he finds the time.”

“I doubt he’ll like the topic.”

“It’s not his favorite, but it’s not yours either. I think it’s a necessary evil in order to increase the number of wholesale buyers for your goods.” He set his backpack on a table away from any moisture. “Since Samuel hasn’t really looked at your website, I don’t want to spring something on him that might freak him out. So I wanted to get your approval first.” He took a seat on the dry workbench next to his equipment. “I’ve been hunting for you. Where’s your two-way?”

“I left it at Camilla’s this morning.”

“Why do I get the feeling you did that on purpose?”

She released the nozzle, shutting off the water. Indeed, she had knowingly walked out without it. Leave it to Landon to realize that. Of course, on his side, he had years of knowing her. But if she could be easily reached, Phoebe would want her to come in for lunch. Samuel would have business questions, and with Jacob back she didn’t want to be around him. Steven would use it to ask where she was, and then he’d look at her as if he knew what was best for her more than she did. Someone always wanted something, and today she had nothing to give, not right now anyway. And Jacob, well, he wasn’t far, and since he seemed to know where she was all the time, he could find her whenever he wished.

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