The Winnowing Season (31 page)

But was their more relaxed attitude a good thing?

The evidence said it wasn’t. Jacob was gone more than he was here. Samuel seemed a bit too interested in the Englisch woman. Landon and Leah seemed to have more going on between them than just a spark. And Rhoda was on the phone, waiting for a reporter to schedule a time to visit.

“Rhoda?”

“Yes.”

“I apologize for that. It seems I can’t catch a break. I wanted to make this call two months ago. So this is what I was thinking …”

Rhoda finished her conversation with the blogger—Diana Fisher—and hung up the phone. She had tried to get Diana to set a day and time, but the woman had been talking to her friend Nicole, who said she came and went with very little notice.

Of course Nicole did. Samuel seemed blindly smitten with her.

Rhoda did pin down a time for Diana’s first visit, but after that she wanted to come and go, checking on the orchard, taking photographs, and talking to whoever could talk for a few minutes. The woman claimed she wouldn’t disrupt anyone or anything and wouldn’t come to the door of the house unless someone invited her.

Since Nicole was Diana’s friend, how could Rhoda tell Diana no when Nicole visited all the time, rarely with so much as a phone call? Rhoda didn’t like it, but when Jacob called tonight, she had to tell him the bad news.

She returned to her farm work and continued until it was dark. She then went inside with the family. They dispersed by eight, and she went to her room and counted the hours until it was almost midnight.

The house was quiet and dark as she slipped out the front door and headed for the barn. As she unlatched the wooden door to the barn, she saw a truck turn off its lights while coming toward the house. She paused to see what was
afoot. The truck slowed and pulled off to the side of the road. No one got out. Her eyes adjusted to the dark. Was that Landon’s truck?

She crossed her arms to keep warm, leaned against the barn, and waited. A few minutes later a light came on inside the truck. Rhoda’s heart sank as she stared at the confirmation of her fear—Leah and Landon, talking and laughing.

Landon knew better. So did Leah.

Rhoda strode toward the truck, determined to put a stop to these secret dates, but the phone rang, and she stopped short. Right now the most important thing was to let Jacob know about the reporter coming next Monday.

She turned back.

She would set Landon straight tomorrow.

TWENTY-NINE

Landon held the steering wheel with two fingers, but he kept a keen eye on the road for ice patches. He flipped the radio station, aiming to find a song Leah loved. He enjoyed those songs most of all these days.

The stations had stopped playing Christmas songs a couple of weeks back, which made him glad and yet also sad. The usual pop songs about life and love buzzed as he approached the farm.

Rhoda had called and asked him to come by, saying they needed to talk about something before the workday began. When he asked what she meant, she reiterated that she needed to talk with him. Whatever was going on now, it couldn’t be good news, or she would have shared it. Had Rhoda realized he was seeing Leah?

Part of him hoped so. He didn’t like sneaking around, especially behind Rhoda’s back. They were close, and they made a good and fun work team. Always had. And yet as he drove down the road, he found himself feeling like a child who’d gotten into trouble.

That was stupid, right? He hadn’t done anything more wrong than when he’d befriended Rhoda, except her parents had allowed it because she needed his help for the business and she needed him when Emma was killed. The only reason he and Leah had to sneak around was so Samuel wouldn’t blame Rhoda for Leah’s pulling away from the Amish.

Wait
.

What was today? Landon fished his cell phone out of his pocket. January 9. Leah’s birthday. Surely that’s what Rhoda wanted to talk to him about. Rhoda probably needed him to do something for her to give Leah a nice surprise for her eighteenth birthday. How could he forget her birthday was today?

He knew the date well, and they were going to celebrate next weekend. But he hadn’t realized today was January 9.

Smoke rose from two chimneys as he pulled into the driveway. He exited the truck and approached the front door. An awkward sensation pricked his skin. What if it wasn’t about Leah’s birthday? He’d never felt this way before when coming to the house. Maybe he was more out of line to go behind Rhoda’s back than he’d realized.

He just hadn’t admitted it until now.

He stood outside the door for a moment, the cold morning nipping at his nose and ears, before finally gaining the courage to go in.

Steven came down the steps, holding his little girl in his arms. “Morning, Landon. Arrived in time to share breakfast?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Landon’s awkwardness increased. “Rhoda asked me to come by early.”

“Ah.” He motioned. “Well, come on. I think she’s in the kitchen.”

Landon fell into step behind Steven. Why did he feel like such an outsider today? The kitchen was abuzz, and the aroma of sausage and biscuits and oatmeal wafted through the air. When people worked as hard as this crew, large, hot meals on a cold day helped, but he just wasn’t much of a breakfast person.

Rhoda set a stick of butter on the table before glancing up.

“Hey.” Landon nodded at her.

She smiled, but she didn’t look cheerful. How could she be? She thrived on consistency, and her life had been one huge change after another since Rueben had destroyed her garden. And Jacob was still gone.

“Hello.” Landon spoke to everyone and received a chorus of hallos, except from Samuel. He withheld wishing Leah a happy birthday in case she, too, had forgotten what today was and the family hoped to surprise her.

Samuel stood at the stove pouring a cup of coffee. “Morning, Landon.” He held up a mug. “Care for some?”

“No thank you.” Everyone in this room trusted him. At that realization he swallowed hard.

Leah got an extra plate down. “You’ll at least have some juice and a few bites of biscuit, won’t you?”

Rhoda shook her head. “He and I need to talk. You all eat without me.” She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and laid it over the back of a chair. “Let’s go to the office.”

She paused near the front door while she put on her coat. Landon followed her out the door and to the barn without a word passing between them.

Rhoda went into the office and took an old jar of blackberry preserves off the desk. She held it up. “This is the first jar of preserves we made after you started working with me.” She cradled it. “I know it’s silly, but I’ve kept it, along with a few others that mark some big changes in my life.” She held it out to him. “Your friendship means a lot to me, Landon, and I want you to know that.”

“Okay.” Landon took the jar from her. “Are you firing me or something?”

Rhoda took back the jar and set it on the desk. Not exactly the most comforting action when asking about employment. She held the top of the jar with her fingertips, turning it around and around.

It wasn’t like Rhoda to act this way, so maybe this meeting wasn’t about him. “Hey, whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”

“I saw you dropping Leah off last night, and I need you to stop seeing her. When you’re here, you do your jobs as far away from her as possible. It’s an eighty-acre farm. Keeping a distance shouldn’t be that difficult.”

He blinked. He had suspected Rhoda might ask him not to take Leah over to his house as much, but to avoid her while working? It seemed excessive. “She turns eighteen today. You do realize that, right?”

“Ya.” Rhoda looked at him, her eyes almost pleading. “You’re probably upset with me for asking this, but you have to try to understand what it would do to Leah’s family if she left the Order. And what it’d do to my relationship with them if
you’re
the one who helps her do it. And frankly, if I’m right, I’d say you’re making it all too appealing for her to do exactly that.”

His guilt evaporated like fog on a summer day. “Hey, hold on.” The gruffness in his voice surprised him. “All I’ve done is be a friend to her. I’ve taken her
to church, out for burgers and pizza, and offered to show her apartments—all things she’s specifically asked about.”

Rhoda raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe that, or are you just saying it?” She sat on the edge of the desk, sadness, or maybe disappointment, reflecting in her eyes. “You’ve done more than just show her what she asks about. You’ve shown her a glimpse into the one thing nearly every Amish teen wants—an easy way to waltz into the Englisch life, and I’m sure she likes what she sees. You mentioned that she’s turning eighteen today, and we’ve planned a nice evening for her with cake and presents, but being a legal adult is a far cry from being ready to go through the doors you’re opening for her.”

“I’m only doing what she wants.”

“She’s not old enough to know what she wants. This time last year she wanted nothing more than to attend parties. And be with Michael.”

Landon plunked into an office chair and stared at the floor. “Okay, I hear you.”

But Leah and he had something special between them. Why couldn’t Rhoda respect that? He hated the prospect of not being able to see Leah. As he sat there mulling over Rhoda’s softly spoken words that cut like a razor, he realized how much his friendship with Leah meant. He wouldn’t have walked out on Rhoda’s friendship either. The difference was that no one told him he had to.

But Rhoda had solid points. Leah was young, and whether he meant to or not, he was influencing her—and in the direction he wanted her to go. How could he not?

“Look.” Landon shifted in his chair. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but she was planning to leave the Order before we even got here. And before she met me. She told me that. You know that if she leaves the Order, she’s going to need a friend.”

Rhoda nodded, her movements almost invisible. “That may be true, but I don’t think you should be that friend. What happens if you open doors for her this year and she regrets them next year?”

“What if she hates me ten years from now because I refused to open doors for her?”

“We’re going in circles, so here’s the bottom line: if you want to stay connected with Kings’ Orchard, you will do as I’ve asked.”

“We were friends at Leah’s age.”

“But we didn’t cross any boundary my Daed would disagree with. I shudder to think what Leah’s Daed would say or the fit he’d throw. Look, you have to keep a physical and emotional distance from her.”

“Or else you’ll let me go.” Landon stared at the floor, unable to look at his old friend. He wanted to explain how silly this all was. This was the twenty-first century! Friendships crossed all boundaries—race, religion, politics. But Rhoda had pegged the real problem here. He was influencing a teenager to walk away from her family.

Working for Rhoda was his livelihood, at least for now, with the economy the way it was. And Rhoda and the Kings relied on his help. He was the one who had told them about farms in Maine and why they had begun the search in this area.

What could he say to defend his desire to continue a relationship with Leah? Nothing that Rhoda couldn’t explain why his thinking was all wrong. If he balked, then he’d be without a job and lose both Rhoda’s and Leah’s friendships, not to mention that of the rest of the crew.

“Okay.” He sighed, not meeting Rhoda’s gaze. “I’ll back off. But I never would’ve figured you to be so unyielding. This is really unfair.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Rhoda reached for his hand and slid her cold fingers into his palm.

He pulled away and stood. “Did you need anything else?”

“No.”

Without another word, Landon walked out of the barn and to his truck. He couldn’t stay. He needed time to get his emotions in check. When he looked back, Rhoda was standing outside the barn, the jar of blackberry preserves still in her hands.

Despite his hurt and frustration, when he talked to Leah, he wouldn’t point a finger at Rhoda. That would put strife between the two women.

But without telling Leah that part, how was he supposed to explain this to her?

THIRTY

Jacob sat on the floor with Casey, toys scattered across the small living room. The irritating melody of Casey’s stuffed bear was ringing in his ears. She kept pressing its paw every time the racket stopped, making it begin over again. The outdated television in the corner danced with cartoons and music of its own.

How he missed the quiet of home. Rhoda told him last night he needed to stay away because the blogger would be coming and going from the farm over the next few weeks. How could he stand being away that much longer?

He wasn’t sure he could, and that had him rethinking his stance about hiding.

Sandra was home from work and standing at the oven in the adjoining kitchenette, making grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Now you.” Casey passed her toy bear to Jacob, her toothy grin reminding him of Rhoda’s niece Arie. He pressed the bear’s paw, and the melody started up again. Casey’s grin widened, and she bobbed her head back and forth in a clumsy, exuberant dance.

He raised his voice, making sure Sandra could hear him. “I really liked that girl we just interviewed.”

“I guess.” Sandra seemed reluctant to hire anyone, but she needed a backup sitter. She turned her head from the frying pan. “She was okay. But my regular sitter will be well in a few more days. Can’t you just wait?”

He resisted the urge to scream
“No!”

“You need a backup sitter, Sandra, and now you have one. Put her to good use. She needs the hours, and I know she’ll be a good one.”

Casey took her bear back and hugged it while staring at the television. Jacob stood and stretched as he walked to the window. It was easy to forget
sometimes how lucky he and his family were, but the area surrounding Sandra’s apartment practically screamed at him to go home.

The paint around the windows was thick, caked from years of painting. The chipped spots revealed decades of layers. Should he stay and replace some of the scratched and cracked panes inside the warped frames? The place constantly lost heat, but he wasn’t sure replacing the glass would make any difference. The whole window needed maintenance and winterizing. But what about what he needed—to go home?