The Winnowing Season (39 page)

Samuel crouched, petting the dogs. Studying his handsome face and strong build, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have developed between them if he hadn’t been involved with Catherine when they met.

“You won’t believe this”—she cradled her drink—“but after we first met and I came to the farm, I was disappointed to learn you had a girlfriend.”

Samuel looked up, his eyes glued to her. She waited for a wisecrack, but it didn’t come. Sudden regret hit her. What was she thinking to be so inappropriate with her boyfriend’s brother?

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”

Samuel stood, his dark eyes reflecting a look she had seen before but had yet to understand. He moved in closer. “Rhodes …”

Why did her heart pound like mad?

“Kumm on, Samuel.” She backed away, suddenly more aware of the line she had crossed. “You won’t let what I said be a problem, right?”

He studied her for several moments and then shook his head. “No, I won’t.”

“Good. I just had a little crush.”

Had?
So what did she feel for him now?

The kitchen door swung open. Phoebe had both hands on her head, sliding bobby pins to hold her prayer Kapp in place. In their home districts in Pennsylvania, women could only use straight pins and carefully weave it between the strands of hair and the organdy covering. But here, rules weren’t as important as matters of the heart. And Rhoda’s heart seemed a bit confused right now. How was that possible?

By the time breakfast was over, Samuel seemed more like himself and ready to ignore her stupid remarks. For that she was grateful. What kind of girl looked at her boyfriend’s brother with such fondness? What was wrong with her?

After breakfast she and Samuel went their separate ways—her to her greenhouses and him to the barn office. But she didn’t have a lot she needed to do in here. She stirred the compost and prayed. Then the walkie-talkie in her pocket chirped and crackled: “Rhoda.” It was Leah.

Rhoda answered, “Ya?”

“Officer Smyth is here. He’s on his way back, looking for you.”

Her mouth went dry. “Denki.” She slid the walkie-talkie into her pocket and went outside, spotting the officer coming out the back door of the house. Samuel was heading her way from the barn. He had heard Leah’s message too.

Samuel picked up his pace, and both men came within a few feet of her at the same time.

Samuel moved to her side, and she grasped his hand with both of hers.

Officer Smyth held out a folded piece of paper. “I’m finally here with more good news than bad.”

His words made her knees feel a bit weak. Why would good news do that?

“The bad news first.” The officer rubbed his jaw. “Charges have been filed
against Mrs. Allen and an aide she hired to tamper with evidence. The media has been updated on what I’m about to say, and the news will soon spread even to the big networks. I expect at least one journalist to be here in two or three minutes. Hours from now this place will be crawling with people wanting interviews and such. I’ll help you deal with that in whatever way you want.”

Samuel grinned. “Rhoda has been cleared, hasn’t she?”

“Completely.”

Rhoda couldn’t budge. Was she dreaming?

Samuel put both hands on her shoulders. “Rhoda, it’s over.”

She looked past him to Officer Smyth.

He smiled. “Between the police investigation and what an investigative reporter uncovered, we have the whole story pieced together. And the evidence to prove it.”

Rhoda’s head spun. “But my fingerprints?”

“They were found on the plastic sandwich bags.” He grinned. “I’m proud of our investigators. And that little misstep by the aide Mrs. Allen bribed to help her is how the whole story began to unravel.”

Was Rhoda’s insight concerning the fingerprints meant to encourage her, and she took it as bad news? “Gretchen’s mother was involved?”

“It’s a very convoluted story. What began as an embarrassing event at her elder daughter’s wedding ended up with Mrs. Allen hiring an aide to tamper with evidence so she could prove Gretchen only had marijuana in her system through your providing it in your herbal teas and such.”

Rhoda couldn’t imagine a parent behaving in such a way. It didn’t add up inside her heart.

The officer scratched his eyebrow. “You look about as confused as we did when we began this investigation, but anything you don’t understand will make more sense once you read all about it in tomorrow’s newspaper.”

Officer Smyth continued explaining things that she couldn’t take in—things about the girl’s family realizing she’d lied weeks ago and the family
throwing up roadblocks to the truth and tampering with evidence, trying to protect her lies. People were already calling for the senator’s resignation.

The officer’s brows furrowed. “You okay?”

She wasn’t sure. Why did she feel so weak and so bursting with energy at the same time? “It’s completely over? No more puzzle pieces?”

He removed his hat. “Yes ma’am. It’s over.”

She threw her arms around Samuel. “Yes!”

He lifted her off the ground and spun her.

Loud whoops and hollers filled the air, and when Samuel put her feet on the ground, she peered toward the house. Everyone—Steven, Phoebe, Arie, Isaac, Leah, and Landon—must have been watching from the window, and they’d read Samuel’s and Rhoda’s body language. They ran toward her and Samuel.

“Is it over?” Leah yelled.

“It’s over!” Samuel punched the air with a fist while cradling Rhoda’s shoulder with the other hand. The group hugged and hollered and some shed tears.

Fast clicking sounds caught her attention, and she thought maybe she glimpsed someone taking their pictures. But too much was going on around her and inside her head for her to be sure of anything.

“There’s an upside to all this,” Officer Smyth added.

They paused.

He gestured toward the orchard. “If you wanted your orchard and canned goods to make a name for itself in the hearts of consumers, it’s done—even before the buds appear on the trees. If the people around here have to hire a publicist for you, we’ll turn this media frenzy into a good thing for your business.”

Samuel put his arm around Rhoda’s shoulders and drew her close. “Can I say it now?”

“Say what?”

“Remember our conversation a few weeks back?” He grinned. “Well, I told you so.”

She laughed. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

“Nope.”

A clamor of noises—car doors and chattering—drew their attention.

“That’ll be the start of the first of the media to want to talk to you,” Officer Smyth said.

Samuel gestured toward the house. “Let’s go in.”

But as they hurried in that direction, Rhoda glanced at the mass of reporters and had one thought.
How much longer before Jacob can come home?

THIRTY-NINE

With a coffee mug in hand, Jacob moved to the couch he’d bought for Sandra. He grabbed the remote control and flicked on WCSH, a Portland news station, looking for some nugget about Rhoda. This was how he started and ended each day—and how he spent any spare minutes in between.

A soft light came from the light fixture in the kitchen, but daylight had yet to arrive. His appointment with the lawyer had been delayed. The secretary called on the day of the appointment to reschedule the meeting. Something about a court case the lawyer was involved in.

A middle-aged news reporter stared into the living room, prattling about a bill before Congress and a car bomb in the Middle East. Hadn’t he watched the same news almost three years ago when living with Blaine and Sandra?

“Coming up, more about the Amish troubles in Maine …”

Jacob moved to the edge of the couch, waiting through several commercials. “Good grief, people! Stop with the teasing, and just tell us the news!”

Another commercial answered him.

Sandra entered the room, tying her housecoat. “You’re leaving for work late today?”

“Looks like it.”

“Why are you yelling at the television?”

“They have news about Rhoda, but they keep using it as a hook.”

She moved to the couch. “And they have us hooked, don’t they?” She patted the couch. “What did they say?”

“Nothing, really.” He plunked against the back of the couch, spilling some coffee on his shirt. “Just that they had an update.” He put his cup on the end table and raked his hands through his now much shorter hair. “I’m so desperate to know it’s over. It’s killing me not to be there.”

“I know, and so does she. But you’ve made great money while you’ve been here. She’ll appreciate that you’ve been doing that for the two of—”

“Shhh.” Jacob held up his hand. “Listen.”

The newscaster returned. “There is good news for Rhoda Byler, the young Amish woman in Orchard Bend, Maine, who was accused by Veronica Allen, wife of Senator Stuart Allen, of giving their teenage daughter an illegal substance disguised as an herbal tea. Although the authorities found two ounces of marijuana on Byler’s property, she has been cleared of the accusations, and charges have been filed against Veronica Allen and an aide to Senator Allen.”

Jacob yelled and jumped up. “Yes!”

“Congrats.” Despite her lukewarm response, Sandra embraced him.

“You bet congrats!” He peered down at her. “Why so reserved? This is fantastic news!”

“It is for you and Rhoda and your family and the orchard in Maine. Not so much for us.”

“I disagree. Once I see a lawyer—”

“Jacob, you can’t.”

His excitement faded. “You always say that.”

“That’s because I know how these things work.”

If that was true, then why did the lawyer tell him something different?

Video of the farm flashed on the screen, and Jacob couldn’t believe it. It was footage of the moment Rhoda and Samuel received the news.

He grinned. “Look!” He laughed. “They’re thrilled.”

Steven’s family, Leah, and Landon soon ran to them, clearly unaware they were being filmed.

“That’s Rhoda’s brother, Steven, and his wife and children. That’s my little sister Leah.”

Samuel and Rhoda faced the camera arm in arm, big grins on their faces.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Jacob’s heart palpitated.

Rhoda looked up at Samuel, grinning and talking before they embraced—again.

Jacob frowned. He lowered himself to the couch. Uneasiness touched his heart. He shook his head.
Stop it! You’re not seeing anything but friendship between them
.

Of course they were gazing into each other’s eyes and hugging. They’d been living through the stress together for months.

Jacob turned down the volume on the television.

“Look, Sandra, I know you don’t trust people, and you have a lifetime of reasons for that. But I’m not convinced you’ve been straight with me about why I shouldn’t see a lawyer. I’m not discussing this with you anymore. I had an appointment last week, but it was canceled. I have a new one next week.”

“You don’t need one now. Look, you can go home.”

“And I will, but not without seeing the lawyer first. I’m finished hiding. Rhoda doesn’t need me to do that for her anymore, and I refuse to do it again for you or me.” He stood. “Not again, Sandra.”

“You won’t have to. What are the chances that an Amish family would ever have trouble like this again? Zilch.”

“I’m keeping the appointment.”

“Jacob, please. You have to trust me.”

“Here’s the thing, Sandra. Until six months ago I trusted everything you’ve ever told me. But as much as I want to believe that you wouldn’t lie to me, I’ve been doing some thinking, and your stance against lawyers and your description of how the justice system works doesn’t line up with what others say, including the lawyer.”

“You’ve already talked to him?” Her scream made his ears throb.

“Why are you so afraid of me talking to a lawyer? Explain that!”

Suddenly, Casey ran into the room, rubbing her eyes with one hand and tugging up her pajama bottoms with the other. “Don’t!” She burst into tears and ran to Jacob. The little one hated raised voices.

He picked her up. “Sorry, Casey-boo. But we had some good news a few minutes ago.”

Casey played with the button on his shirt. “You’re happy?”

“I am.” He touched the end of her nose. He wanted to yank out his phone and call Rhoda right now, but she always sounded so distant and stilted when he called her. They deserved for their first conversation following this ordeal to be a really good one. Since he couldn’t leave until after he met with the lawyer, he’d write Rhoda and pour out his heart to her.

Sandra cinched her housecoat. “How long before you leave?”

Casey’s bottom lip quivered. “You’re weaving?”

“It’s what he does, kid. Get used to it.”

He used to think he could change Sandra’s mind about people, make a positive difference that would affect how she treated Casey. But Sandra was too set in her ways, and he was too interested in building a life with Rhoda to keep trying. If it weren’t for Casey, he would wash his hands of Sandra. But Casey deserved as much stability in her life as he could offer—just as he would want that for Arie or Isaac.

He patted Casey’s back. “Not for a while yet.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he swayed with her, hoping she’d go back to sleep, wishing he could take her with him. “I’m sure the farm is covered with reporters,” he whispered. “It’ll be a week or two before I can slip back. Unnoticed anyway—unless the lawyer gives me good news. But you can trust this: I’m not leaving here until after I see that lawyer. End of conversation.”

“End of your life on the outside is more like it.”

He wanted to say, “If you’ve been lying to me all these years, it’ll be the end of us.” But he couldn’t just walk away. The reason was in his arms, her little fists holding tight to his shirt as if she knew that clinging to him was her best chance at a decent life.