The Winnowing Season (37 page)

Amusement got the better of Rhoda. “So just how long have you been planning this?”

“He’s been looking for
objects
for a few weeks now.” Steven sprinkled some salt on the cheesy hash browns. “This is the only set he’s found in Maine.”

Rhoda studied Samuel, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a likable fellow. Sometimes.”

Samuel dipped his head. “Back at you.”

“I’m a fellow?”

Steven chuckled. “According to the papers, you’re quite close to it.”

“What must Daed think when he reads those stories?”

“What he’s always thought—that few people know the value of what they’re seeing when they look at you.”

Rhoda rolled her eyes. “What’s with everybody? Are you afraid I’m going to fall apart again?”

“Again?” Her brother studied her.

Rhoda looked at Samuel. “You didn’t tell them?”

Samuel held her gaze. “Tell them what?”

He knew, but Samuel turned to Steven. “I guess she wants me to tell you that she’s been testy and pigheaded lately, just like she’s being about going to see the you-know-whats.”

Steven stabbed a bit of casserole. “So what else is new?”

“And she always thinks it’s me.” Samuel suppressed a smile and took a bite of food. “Let’s call Landon and see what he thinks of our plans for tomorrow.”

Rhoda pushed her plate away, her appetite having disappeared at the thought of what she had done to Landon and Leah. “I’m not sure he’ll be in a mood to take us anywhere.”

“Ya, he has been acting weird.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I can’t figure it out. What gives?”

Rhoda drew a nervous breath. “I’d rather talk to Samuel about it in private.”

Leah shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll buy a paper tomorrow and read about it.”

Phoebe laughed. “She’s having quite a good time at your expense, isn’t she?”

“Either that or she knows something we don’t.” Samuel studied his sister, a smile hinting that he was amused. “Are you stashing recorders so you can sell conversations to the media?”

Leah stretched her back. “I tried. Your conversations were so boring they wanted me to pay them, which isn’t going to happen.”

The banter warmed Rhoda’s heart. How would she get through this without her friends? She would never forget the support they were giving her. Friends, really good ones, were hard to come by. Despite having good reasons for doing so, had she been wrong to ask Landon to step away from Leah?

THIRTY-SIX

The sound of jackhammers and saws rang in Jacob’s ears as he stepped into the temporary elevator. He nodded at the operator. “Fourth riser.”

While the elevator rose, Jacob secured his push-to-talk phone—a hybridized walkie-talkie–cell phone provided by the company for the overseers of each floor—to his belt. Despite Sandra’s objections, he’d called an attorney’s office and given the secretary his phone number. But the idea of receiving a callback had him antsy.

Was Sandra right and the conversations he’d heard among his coworkers wrong?

He stepped onto the high risers and nodded at some of the guys he’d gotten to know over the past few weeks. It was much quieter up here than on the lower levels since the heavy welding had yet to start for his floor.

Construction still made him uneasy, but it was a great way to get fast money without too many questions being asked. A lot of construction foremen were willing to hire undocumented workers, but he’d had to show his employer his real name. Since he’d convinced them to pay him in cash, he hadn’t needed to give his Social Security number. Working here might be a little chancy, but he wasn’t returning to Rhoda empty-handed. Besides, no one had any idea he was Amish, and his name was only one on a roster of hundreds of men. There was even a Jake King working on this site.

Jacob had started out making twenty dollars an hour. When the foreman had a few questions about supply costs and contracted pricing, Jacob had a provable answer for him in a matter of minutes. The foreman gave him a task, and Jacob managed to get the client to purchase what they needed. After that,
Jacob was made a floor overseer and given a phone as well as an increase to thirty-five dollars an hour.

It felt too familiar, and that unnerved him a bit, but he was no one’s fool anymore.

“Good, you’re here.” Tucker, the foreman, a burly man with a long beard, approached. Tucker launched into a problem about adjusting the beams to the right size for the third floor. Jacob offered a few solutions. Tucker nodded and walked away, seemingly satisfied.

Burying his fear of construction work and ignoring the ghosts of the injured and deceased wasn’t easy. Some days his mood and emotions were so different he almost didn’t recognize himself.

Sandra pressed him all the time not to see an attorney, and he continued to doubt that she’d told him all the wrongs she had done while working as a secretary for Jones’ Construction. Still, whatever her guilt, he felt caught between his desire for freedom and his desire to protect Casey.

His phone rang, and he looked at the number to see if it was Tucker or one of the other overseers. It wasn’t. He took a deep breath, plugged his right ear while holding the phone to the other ear, and hit the answer button.

“Hello?” Had he been on the ground floor it would have been impossible to hear.

“Mr. King?” a male voice asked.

“Who’s calling?”

The man identified himself as the attorney he’d contacted, and Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. “I understand you want a consultation in a legal matter?”

“Yes sir.”

“Can you tell me about the case, Mr. King?”

“Not until I have a guarantee of confidentiality.”

“The law binds me to confidentiality except in the cases of a client’s planning to harm others or himself.”

Why had Sandra spent years telling him that wasn’t true? Did she not know? Or had she been trying to control him, playing on his ignorance just as Blaine had years ago?

“Good. Then we’re in agreement.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not really in a place where I can talk, and it’ll take an hour to explain it to you.” Jacob pressed his palm harder against his ear in order to drown out the background noise.

“I understand. Different law offices handle the lawyer-client billing in various ways. I ask for a portion of the retainer up front.”

“How much?”

“Seven hundred dollars for the type of consultation you’ve indicated. Three hundred and fifty an hour after that.”

That was a hefty fee for a conversation! Depending on when he got to go home, he might have nothing to give Rhoda. But wouldn’t talking to the lawyer be the best gift he could give her? Actually, the answer to that depended on the answer the attorney gave him.

“Jacob, keep in mind, if you do not use me as your lawyer, sixty percent of the retainer is refundable based on whether or not you use up the allotted time during the consultations.”

“I’ll bring the payment with me.” Obviously freedom came with a cost. “When can I meet with you?”

“I’ll transfer you to my secretary. My schedule is quite full, and a troubled consultation generally takes twice as much time as a client thinks it will. She’ll let you know when my next available appointment is.”

Jacob spoke to the secretary, lined up a date, and hung up. He felt both heavier and lighter. If he wanted freedom, then talking to a lawyer was a necessary step. But he didn’t like the idea of possibly hurting or frightening Sandra. He especially didn’t like the idea of Casey’s being caught in the middle of things.

He shook himself. It was just a consultation, but maybe—just maybe—he could get free and never have to walk away from Rhoda again.

Samuel sat behind the desk in the barn office, listening as Rhoda explained what she’d told Landon and why.

“Was I wrong?”

Samuel leaned back in his chair. “The answer depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you, and I can’t believe you’d even hesitate about what needed to be done.”

“And I wouldn’t have six months ago. But—”

“Are you telling me you’d allow them to continue a friendship that could lead to their falling in love? She’s your sister, and her temptation to leave the Order is strong enough without our allowing Landon to make it easy for her.”

“I know.” Samuel took a sip of his coffee. The more time he spent in God’s Word, the more he realized that God called people to walk many different paths and that mankind shouldn’t aim to get in His way. “But here’s the truth: we can’t dictate where love will bloom, and who says it’s our place to try to make Leah live as we think she should?”

“You have to be kidding me.” Rhoda went to the window and stared out at the orchard. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Confusion addled him. What on earth was she talking about? “In love with Leah?”

She wheeled around, her cheeks pink as anger etched her face. “Nicole.”

The desire to prod Rhoda with questions swooped through him like a fire. Did she care because, unlike his sister, he had joined the faith and taken a vow to marry an Amish woman? Or because she cared for him more than she knew? If he pushed her, could he uncover hidden love for him?

The temptation to dig deeper burned inside him, but he refused to give in. He steadied his breathing—and his desire. “No.”

“Ach.” She put a hand on her hip. “It’s the only thing that makes your new ‘live-free’ attitude add up. You need to be honest.”

Samuel rubbed his forehead. “You want honesty?” His mind rattled off what he’d like to say.
I love you! And you deserve better than a man so mired in sin he can’t stand beside you when you need him
.

Samuel closed his eyes, counting to ten and praying for strength. “Can we stick to the subject, please?” He exhaled slowly, trying to remain in control. “You know Landon well, right?”

“Very.”

“Is he a good man?”

“One of the best.”

“Then the only thing we have against him is he’s not Amish. Isn’t it prejudiced of us to shut him out based on that alone? Isn’t that fear at work? See, I no longer believe that any of us will fall off the end of the flat earth because we’re navigating unchartered territory. God did not create the world in such a way.”

“But Landon’s ways are so connected to the world—electricity, television, music, cars.” She motioned, palms up. “I don’t understand what you’re thinking.”

“Me either.” Samuel shrugged. “Not really. I just know that either Christ is sufficient to forgive us our wayward, indulgent ways or He’s not—regardless of whether we live simple or in a mansion. Wasn’t that exactly what he was talking about when He said all things are possible with God? It is impossible for anyone to be saved without Him.”

“But I made Landon back off.”

“Did he?”

“Ya. And he’s been here working hard every day, being polite and efficient. But he’s none too happy about it.”

“See, the fact that he did as you needed him to confirms to me that he’s a good man, and if Leah chooses him, I trust who he is.” Samuel closed his eyes for a moment. “Don’t misunderstand me. I believe in our Plain ways, and I
pray that Leah and her family for generations will remain inside our culture. But is it our right to make decisions for her?”

Rhoda moved to a chair across from him, her eyes glued to his. “Right now, they’re just friends. Maybe it’ll stay that way.”

He chuckled. “So that’s what you got out of everything I said?”

Her eyes beseeched him. “I don’t want to lose her from our faith.”

Odd, really, how different Catherine and Rhoda were. Catherine disliked Leah and tried to influence Samuel to feel the same way. Rhoda only wanted what was best for her, mistaken as Rhoda was in her efforts to protect Leah.

Was Samuel wrong to try to protect Rhoda from how he felt? “We’ll keep praying for Leah to make the right decisions, but we can’t set ourselves up to be the judge of what’s right for her. Or anyone. And, honestly, she’s still in her rumschpringe, and the Amish would turn a blind eye, giving her more leeway than you are.”

“She’s going to be more than a little perturbed when she finds out what I’ve done.”

“Maybe so, but Leah isn’t one to hold a grudge. She’s more of a fireworks kind of girl. Call Landon and release him from your constraint.”

She rubbed her temples. “What’s gotten into you?”

Love
. The word echoed inside Samuel. Not some weak shadow of it. But a bold love he wanted to tell her about. “Nothing.”

But he had two hard questions. If Jacob didn’t return soon, could Samuel continue hiding from her how he felt?

And if Rhoda knew, would it make any difference?

THIRTY-SEVEN

Landon let the music blare through his static-filled speakers as he drove to see Rhoda. She had called him yesterday and asked if he’d come in early today. What did she want now? To say he needed to do a better job of not glancing at Leah?

He turned up the volume on his stereo, but no amount of noise could drown out his frustration. Leah and Arlan were allowed to be friends. He sighed. Double standards stunk, but what really irked him was that Rhoda didn’t see her viewpoint as unfair. Wasn’t Arlan just as likely as Landon to help Leah sever ties with the Amish?