For Every Season (34 page)

He made sense. Leah took a breath, wishing she hadn’t let her emotions get the better of her. “I should go.” She untied the horse from the spruce and turned to face him. “You’re missing the game.”

“Come on, Leah. You’re being silly about the whole thing.”

The annoying thing was, she knew that. She knew her behavior was immature. But it didn’t erase that she wished she hadn’t come. She just wanted to go home.

Landon stared down at her, stepping so very close.

She backed up, bumping into the side of the rig. She wanted to kiss him so badly.

The way he looked at her she knew he wanted to kiss her too. She should resist. It would only confuse the decisions she needed to make about her future, the ones between her and God. “I guess I could learn to manage better when negative feelings hit.”

He placed his hands on the carriage, around her head, his eyes soaking her in. “Yeah, that’s a good goal.” His voice sounded distant.

With her heart thumping, she tried to swallow. “I … I should go.”

He leaned in close, his lips mere inches from hers. Leah’s heart pounded, begging for a kiss.

But he paused, lowered his arms, and took a step back. “Sorry.”

Unable to respond, she peeled herself from the side of the rig, opened the door, and climbed in.

“You sure you can’t stay?” Landon nodded toward the house. “Granny’s probably off the phone by now.”

In that moment she saw more of Landon than she ever had. For every ounce of immaturity she had, he had a dose of maturity, and she loved him for it.

Loved him
.

She did love him. “Not this time.”

He was entirely too kind for someone like her—a plain Jane month of May, with a thunderstorm one hour and sunshine and birdsong the next. But she wouldn’t always be like this. She had some things to figure out, things between her and God, her and her family, her and Landon.

Landon propped his foot on the buggy step. “You drive safe.”

“You sound like a parent.”

He wrinkled his face. “That uncool? Man, no wonder you’re taking your horse and going home.”

She giggled. “I’ll tell Rhoda about the abandoned building I saw.”

“Is it the white clapboard about a mile from here?”

“Probably.” She liked the idea of talking about something more normal before leaving. “Windows boarded up and barely visible for all the overgrowth?”

“Yeah, that actually belongs to Granny. She used to run a little grocery store and gas station before the station in town ran her out of business. If you’d gone around the side, you’d have seen the old gas pumps. The Kings could have it practically free of charge, but I’ve already told all that to Rhoda and Jacob. But it has three strikes against it. It’s too far from the orchard. It doesn’t
have any plumbing or a reasonable way to get water to it. And getting it up to code for a license would cost way too much.”

“That’s a shame. I really liked that little building.”

“You want to go poke around in it? It has years of interesting stuff inside, like an old attic. And I have the key.”

“But your ball game.”

“I’m recording it.”

“Going through that building sounds like fun.”

“You want to drive us? I’ll tell Granny or leave a note. I don’t know why I didn’t think of us going there sooner. You’ll love looking through all that old stuff.” But instead of leaving, he stayed right there, staring at her.

Leah felt a little uneasy as he watched her. “Something wrong?”

His eyes didn’t move from her, and he smiled. She could see it in his eyes. He liked who she was, stumbles and immaturity and all.

THIRTY-ONE

Jacob startled awake as the dogs barked. He crawled out of bed, pulled his pants over his boxers, and went to the bedroom window. While putting one arm through a suspender, he saw Rhoda getting out of the passenger’s side of Bob’s car. Jacob couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, even at this ridiculous hour. But what was she doing up and coming here now?

Rhoda waved to Bob and strolled toward the barn. She wrapped her arms around herself and paused, staring at the night sky. Jacob doubted she’d be here this early unless something was bothering her.

They had taken a train to Old Orchard Beach two weeks ago. As great as their time had been—and it had been amazing—something between them wasn’t all it should be. Was it because he needed to tell her how he felt about them living in Maine? Not doing so meant he was keeping secrets again, and that ate at him.

Or maybe he wasn’t the only one withholding his thoughts and emotions. She was complex. He admired that. Truly. And she was worth every minute of trying to figure her out, but who would’ve thought a young woman who’d spent her life in the quietness of a fruit garden and canning kitchen could have as many facets as a carnival’s house of mirrors?

Her attention moved to the house, and slowly she found him. He raised his hand, and she smiled before blowing him a kiss.

He indicated he’d be down in a minute, and then he grabbed clean clothes and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The sun and surf of the beach had been a start to everything they needed—time alone and away from this farm. He could still hear her laughter as the wind played Frisbee along with them. He’d chortled at her squeals of delight
while she clutched his arm as the Ferris wheel went round and round. But most of all, he could feel her love as they strolled hand in hand along the beach, talking while watching the sunlight play on the top of the water.

Their relationship had soaked up that day like growing crops drank in the rain.

It had helped Jacob to take a relaxing breath, but it didn’t change the fact that his brother was in love with her too. Jacob had no doubt about that. If Rhoda was aware, she hadn’t even hinted at it. They avoided any discussion of Samuel, but the matter lay between them like a sleeping guard dog.

He was soon out the front door and heading into the office. “There she is.”

She grinned and tapped her cheek with her index finger. He kissed right where she’d pointed, inhaling the aroma of what she most reminded him of—sunshine and freedom.

“Denki.” She smiled, kissed the ends of her fingers, and placed them over his lips.

“Guder Marye, my sweet Rhodes.” He sat on the edge of the desk.

“My sweet Rhodes—what a nice thing to say. Makes it sound as if my name is Rose.”

“I thought so.”

“The dogs wake you?”

“Ya.”

“Sorry about that.”

“I’d rather be awake with you than asleep without you.”

She chuckled. “I still think you must practice saying all the right things.”

“So what has you up so early?”

She pulled a folder out of a drawer and opened it. “It would be nightfall again before I could cover all of that. But in a nutshell, concern about Camilla’s granddaughter and the need for a canning kitchen.”

“Still no word from the investigator?”

“He tracked Jojo and her daughter to a trailer where they once lived, but they’d been evicted, and there was no forwarding address.”

“I’m sorry. It’ll turn around soon. You’ll see.”

She passed him fliers on a run-down house for sale.

“Rhodes, this is pretty bad, and it’s twenty miles from here.”

“It’s also affordable. It’s the closest one I’ve seen so far. We have to find something we can get a license for and have operational by harvest.” She pushed her chair back. “I’m open for suggestions.”

He shrugged. “No peace about Bob and Camilla’s offer to invest or to loan the money?”

“None.”

“Then I don’t have any suggestions, but this house isn’t a solution.” He held up the fliers. “Look at these pictures. If that’s what it looks like here, I’d rather not look at it for real.”

“But you’re a skilled carpenter. I’ve seen your work.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, but this doesn’t need a skilled carpenter. It needs a magician. According to this, the water pipes are no longer up to code, which means they all have to be replaced. I’m no plumber. The new owners may need to plow it under and start fresh.”

She took the fliers and tossed them into the trash can. “I need some air.”

“Perfectly understandable when one’s office is in a barn.” He grabbed a blanket and followed her. Maybe after she walked awhile, she’d be ready to find a spot and watch the sunrise.

He took her hand, and they walked deeper and deeper into the fields.

“Isn’t it magnificent, even in the dark?” She gestured across the fields. “The trees are in better health than anyone could’ve hoped for.”

“And the cause for us to spend weeks thinning them.” He wanted her to have a successful canning season. He needed them to get away from Samuel, and she needed a bountiful harvest to can. Between Rueben and the tornado, she’d had two peaceful times of harvest stolen from her over the last year.

Rhoda brushed stray hairs from her face as they climbed the highest hill on the farm. “I don’t know what to do about the canning kitchen, but I feel paralyzed, as if imprisoned until an intuition guides me. But will it? And I can’t sleep, because it’s my fault Jojo and Sophia are still missing. I really don’t like this side of me—the one that gets paralyzed, the one that sees some tiny part of something, hesitates for too long about what to do, and then makes a mess of everything.”

“Whoa. Whoa. That’s my friend you’re picking on. Stop looking at the glass as half-empty. Why do you think it’s your fault that the investigator hasn’t yet found Jojo and Sophia? If it weren’t for you, no one would even be looking for them. Also, understand that the stresses of this farm are enough to erode anyone’s confidence and peace.”
Except maybe Samuel’s
. His brother thrived on the challenge.

Once they were at the top of the hill, she stood still. “I love this place.”

“You love tending fruit-bearing crops.” Jacob spread the blanket. “This orchard, with twice the acreage of the Pennsylvania orchard, is too much work for the ways of Amish farms.”

Rhoda all but gaped at him. He’d intended to wait to have this conversation, although he wasn’t sure exactly what he was waiting for. Maybe reassurance that she would understand. Maybe knowing that they were strong enough to be this honest. But apparently he’d held his tongue on this for as long as he could. At least they’d had a couple of good weeks since the beach. Hopefully she was ready to hear some of how he felt.

He sat, and she did the same. When they were settled, she made a circling motion with her finger, telling him to keep going.

“Look, when I suggested Kings’ Orchard move here, I had no idea that the extra acreage and the condition of the orchard would require so much overwhelming work. But it drains us all the time. Not just me or you or everyone else, but especially
us
, as a couple.”

“What are you saying?” She stared at him.

He hoped he knew, but most of all he hoped she was ready to hear him. “Doesn’t it feel as if this farm is more than any of us bargained for?”

She shook her head. “Half the stress of these past seven months has nothing to do with farming.”

“I know. A lot was personal stuff. But don’t you want more days like we had at the beach? More mornings like this”—he gestured across the land—“where we watch the sunrise together, preferably sipping coffee and without a three-day work list that needs to be accomplished in a scant twelve hours?”

He propped his foot on the blanket and rested his arm on his knee. “Rhodes, I think maybe I was wrong to suggest we buy this place. You were
devastated after Rueben destroyed your fruit garden. Then the tornado stole your next dream. Samuel needed a new hope to latch on to after the tornado had practically destroyed his orchard. And Kings’ Orchard needed income while the Pennsylvania orchard was reestablished.”

Disbelief radiated from her features. “So we’re feeling pressure from all the troubles that’ve made farming hard this year, and the need for a canning kitchen is bearing down on us, and for those reasons you’re sorry we came here?”

“No, not exactly like that.” What he was sorry about was that his brother was in love with her. Right now he needed to know how to ease into the idea of getting her away from Samuel.

While he thought about what to say, the black sky turned a royal blue as daytime approached. Blossoms swept from the trees, gliding and twirling on the breeze as they fell, much like leaves in late fall. He drew a deep breath. “You and I are in a different place now than when we met. I’m able to pursue carpentry. You’ve earned respect concerning your hunches or insights or whatever they are. We’re both free to rethink what we want.”

Her eyes searched his. “You don’t want to farm?”

Jacob tried to measure his words carefully. “It was never in my heart to do it. I returned to it because I had no choice. But the desire to return to full-time carpentry is growing.” He plucked a white-and-pink petal from an apple blossom off the blanket. “Surely once we’re married and have children, you’ll enjoy tending to something much, much smaller, right? Like what you had before Rueben destroyed it.”

“When I think of having a family, I picture being here, juggling scheduling and baby needs and farming as naturally as we adjust to the change of every season.”

He stifled a sigh and circled the back of her hand with his finger. “A better plan might be for us to figure out a way to live where paydays aren’t connected to a harvest and you would be free to enjoy a fruit garden, not strapped with year-round work.” He hated to say the next part, but it had to be said. “And I think the best way to do that is to move away from here.”

“Move?” She pulled away from him, gesturing with both arms. “This orchard
needs
me.”

“It does. But you don’t have to live here year round to consult and keep a hand in the operation. There are Amish families desperate for work. Iva’s family comes to mind. Either way, Samuel can hire some good men, and we’d be free to do more.”

Her stare was unnerving. “You don’t want either of us to be involved with the orchard full-time?”

Anxiety rippled through him. “My thoughts are a lot to take in, I know. But after this orchard is healthy, you could do most of it by phone and only be here during canning season. We could return to Pennsylvania. You’d be closer to your folks, and you could have an acre or more of the King farm to plant a fruit patch. A couple of seasons from now, you could run the summer kitchen for Eli. That orchard will be producing a pretty good supply of apples by then. Or you could do both. But let Eli hire farmhands if need be and get the weight of all the farming off your shoulders. I could do carpentry work for my uncle and build up a clientele until I could start my own business. We’ll travel here by train as needed. That way you could oversee the success of all the canning operations without the farm owning our lives.”