The Winnowing Season

by Cindy Woodsmall

  She scooped dirt and fertilizer from a plastic container and sprinkled it around a plant. “Where have you been?”

  Jacob had hoped, perhaps naively, that she wouldn’t ask any real questions. In his mind, she would hurry out to see him, look into his eyes to verify his faithfulness, and they would embrace. “I had a friend from my time among the Englisch who needed help.”

  “A friend?” She sounded snippy and not like Rhoda at all.

  “Ya.”

  “Apparently Samuel knew where you were, but he couldn’t tell me anything. And all you sent me was a single cryptic message through Erlene.” She jabbed the dirt with the trowel. “Forty-eight hours ago!”

  “I let you know I was safe and gave you an idea of when I’d be home. I thought that was enough.”

  She shoved the trowel into the dark soil again.

  He wasn’t sure what to say to break through her anger. “I wanted to be here. However much you missed me, I missed you a hundred times more.”

  She finally lifted her eyes to his, and the disappointment and hurt he saw pierced him.

  “Rhodes, if I could have been there for your meeting or the train or made it here that first night, I would have. You have to know that.”

  She studied him, her brows creasing. “Who’s the woman?”

  His breath caught in his throat. Had Samuel told her? Or was he an open book to her now?

  Avoiding her gaze, he spread dark clumps of leftover dirt around the rustic table. Just how much could he hold back and still keep their relationship intact?

  “Jacob, you have to tell me something that makes the last few days add up.”

  He brushed the dirt onto the floor. “You don’t trust me?”

  “I do. But what if I had disappeared like that with a man?” She brushed her hands together, watching her palms. “I need to make sense of what you did, and then I can let it go.”

  “Why can’t you leave it alone?”

  Anger flashed across her fiery eyes. “I’m not your brother, whose life may be inconvenienced a bit by you but mostly goes on his merry way no matter what you do. If your actions or mine don’t make sense, it’s a red flag.” She smacked both hands on the table. “It’s how relationships work.”

  He had to tell her something. “Her name is Sandra. She’s a friend who needed help. She and her daughter were, no, are in danger. They had to move without prior warning, and they have no one else to help them.”

  He cringed at how ridiculous this sounded, and all he had probably done was invite more questions. It surprised him when she came around the table. He held her gaze, hoping she could only see what really mattered—that all of his heart and his future belonged to her.

  She placed her hands on the lapels of his coat. “Do I know you like I think I do?”

  In every way that truly mattered, she did.

  “I’m the same man whose eyes you stared into so you could see my heart, the same as the day we first kissed. Even then you knew I had a past I couldn’t share. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only woman in my life.” He ran the back of his finger along her jaw line. “The only one.”

  She pressed her lips together, sadness reflected in her eyes. “That day in the summer kitchen, the day we first kissed, I remember thinking I wasn’t nearly as interested in your past as your future. But I didn’t expect you to disappear on me. You never mentioned that was a possibility.” She stared at him, and he had the sense she was looking into his soul. “What are you hiding from me?”

  He held her gaze. “I need you to trust me like I trusted you on the day of the tornado. I promise if you will, I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I don’t need that from you. I’m not Sandra, and I’m safe whether you’re here or not. What I want … What I need from you is something no one else can give. I need for you to understand me. You’re the only who ever has.” She moved closer and rested her head against his chest. “But that’s the heart of your secrets, isn’t it? Keeping your friends safe.”

  Oh, if only that were true! If only his sole motivation when he worked for Blaine had been that pure. If only his need to fly below the law’s radar was based on protecting loved ones. But it wasn’t.

  “It’s an important part of it. But when it comes to you, to our relationship, I do see you.” He wrapped his arms around her. “But the last few days have demanded that I keep Sandra and Casey safe. I need you to understand that I couldn’t ignore that.”

  She hugged him. “Okay.”

  Relief made him as weak in the knees as a newborn calf. Had God shown mercy on him and let her come into his life? Or was it just happenstance? He didn’t know, but he liked the thought that maybe God had brought Rhoda to him, because that would be another indication that God hadn’t given up on him.

  He knew one thing with absolute certainty: he wouldn’t let anything come between him and Rhoda.

  Nothing.

  No one.

  No matter what.

  SIXTEEN

  Sunlight danced its last rays as Leah opened the iron door to the brick oven in the side of the hearth. Using metal tongs, she pulled the bread toward her. “This is ridiculous. I need one of those long-handled things for getting bread out of the oven.”

  “Feeling a little grumpy?” Landon teased as he put another load of wood near the fire.

  “No.” She elongated the word. “I’m feeling a whole Himalayan Mountain range grumpy.” She set the loaf on a table, turned it around with the tongs, and put it back in the little oven. “If I have to unpack one more box or prepare or serve one more meal using that thing….” She pointed to the pot hanging on the crane of the fireplace.

  “I used to tell Rhoda it was her cauldron.” He chuckled. “Not that she appreciated the imagery.”

  She closed the little iron door. “Call it what you will, but I do not like fixing food in it or over an open fire or trying to bake dough in this weird oven. If I don’t get a break soon, I’m going to run away. Far, far away!”

  Landon looked through the doorways to the living room and dining room. “Maybe you should let me take you out, sort of a covert move so no one realizes what we’re doing. What do you think?”

  As soon as he said it, Leah had a flush of pulse-pounding excitement. But she also regretted flirting with him. It’d been fun, a distraction from the constant work, but she hadn’t meant to come across as an easy target.

  In an unusual, sort of a quirky way, Landon was a handsome man with a wiry build, sandy-blond hair, and hazel eyes. But what she liked most was his dry sense of humor and even-keeled kindness and the way he treated her and the other women in general, with as much respect as he did men. With Landon, her opinion seemed to weigh as much as Samuel’s or Jacob’s. Still, by flirting, she must have made herself look easy. After hanging out with Michael and his friends, she learned what guys wanted. Namely, someone easy.

  Landon went to the sink and knocked pieces of bark off his shirt. “I’ll be glad when the man comes to fill the propane tank. Samuel called the gas company again today to see what the holdup is. At least it’s not that cold outside. Once you have gas heat, it won’t take much to keep this place toasty this time of year. Come winter, well, that’ll be another story in this drafty old house.”

  Was he dropping his question because she hadn’t answered? “What made you ask me about going out with you?”

  He propped against the sink, facing her. “Because we’d have a good time. You sound as if you need to get out for a bit, and I have a truck.” He kept his voice low.

  She raised her eyebrows. “What’s really in it for you?”

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “What is it you hope will happen if I go?”

  He laughed. “Are all Amish women as brassy as you and Rhoda, or did I do something so bad this has become my lot?”

  Ire heated her skin. “You’ve asked Rhoda out too?”

  With his backside still against the sink, he leaned toward her. “That’d be a definit
e no times a thousand. She’s like a cousin or something. Has been since the day we met.” He removed his cap for a moment. “Brassy, that’s all I have to say on the matter.”

  Memories of Michael’s smooth words and actions when he wooed her—and of what a jerk he’d ended up being—pounded her. “If you think this is brassy, you don’t know lamb’s wool from steel wool. I’ve been around enough guys to know a thing or two.”

  “Leah, take it easy.” He put his cap back on. “It was an offer to get away from this work pit and kick back a little. I thought you might enjoy it. But never mind. I get it. Okay?” He went toward the back door. “I need to get a few more loads of wood.”

  The storm door slammed behind him. Her offense at his invitation eased, and heat filled her cheeks. Why had she gone off at him like that? Couldn’t she have declined without accusing him of ulterior motives?

  She opened the bread oven again and took the tongs to the loaf. The bread still wasn’t done. She shoved it back in and thudded the door closed.

  “Whoa, little sis.” Jacob walked into the kitchen, a tool belt around his hips and a hammer in his hand. He’d been home four days, and he had all the bedroom doors shutting as they should and had replaced sections of rotting floor in one of the bathrooms, also addressing what made them rot to begin with. “What has your apron in knots?”

  “I thought I knew what I’d signed up for, but the work never ends. Are we ever going to get a break?”

  “That’s a good question. I’m pretty sure we’ll eventually have a day off. Why, it’ll be Christmas before we know it, and we’ll get two days off—if we get enough work done before then. Can you imagine the amount of work it took to pull off the Pilgrims’ Thanksgiving?”

  Despite his upbeat humor, Leah rolled her eyes. “If being Englisch means eating out on the weekend and watching television in the evening, that’s the life I want.”

  “I won’t lie.” He removed his tool belt and set it on the table. “That lifestyle has some perks. But so does our way of life, especially for those raised Plain.”

  “Why, because as Amish we’re too guilt ridden to enjoy living like normal people?”

  “Actually, that smart-aleck answer does have a little truth to it.” He got a glass from the cupboard. “But beyond that, I found it very lonely out there.” He filled the glass at the faucet. “People who leave can thrive if they find someone special—provided the relationship lasts—and a friend or two, although they’re likely to move away or branch off in a different direction. The Amish are surrounded by relatives, strong friendships, and God-loving strangers. There may be a bad apple or two, and sometimes we disagree with each other or the church authorities, but I discovered it’s the best way to live.”

  “Ya, but those folks you mentioned aren’t around all that much, mostly because everyone is too busy working.”

  He sat on the edge of the kitchen table and took a sip of his water. “So what’s the solution?”

  She shrugged. “There isn’t an easy one.”

  “See, you’ve just found the key. The opposite of easy is hard. Anything hard can be described as work. No matter where you go, there it is, in one form or another. For us it’s manual labor; for the Englisch it’s going deep into debt to attend school and then trying to fight to get ahead at the office.” He rose. “I’ve seen both sides, and I’ve chosen Amish. I suggest you do the same.”

  “What? Choose being Amish or seeing both sides?”

  “Absolutely.”

  It was hard to believe he would suggest such a thing. Their parents would be furious if they knew he’d said that. Still, it meant a lot to her that he didn’t try to stifle her curiosity or direct her steps in the path of Amish tradition or church authority or family desires. No, Jacob tried to help her find her way through the confusion that nagged and pounded her.

  “Samuel wouldn’t be pleased if he heard you say I should consider the Englisch life.”

  “I think you sell him short. Sure, he gets gruff when you dive headfirst into the shallow end of the pool and you’re not heeding anyone’s warnings.”

  “Those days are over.”

  “Gut. This time while trying to figure out who you are and what you want, be wise about your choices, be chaste, and be careful. Anything less, and you’ll regret it.” He lowered his eyes, staring at the floor. “The worst part of my regret isn’t that I did selfish, stupid, naive things. I managed to wriggle free of them and come home. By an absolute miracle I found the one. The worst part is that she also pays the price for what I’ve done.” He looked up. “And I don’t know if either one of us will ever be completely free.”

  Leah could hardly breathe as Jacob opened up to her. His words, his honesty were worth ten thousand sermons that shouted warnings and spewed condemnations at her.

  Landon came in with another armload of wood. Jacob blinked, seemingly coming back to himself. He nodded to Landon.

  She wasn’t ready for this conversation to end just because Landon had entered the room. Besides, she and Landon talked about all sorts of stuff.

  “Maybe I should think about exploring the outside life like Arlan has.”

  Jacob took a sip of water. “What’s he been doing?”

  “He’s trying to find God. He even goes to different churches sometimes. He’s trying to look at what a church believes compared to what the New Testament says. It’s sort of weird, but that’s how he’s spending his rumschpringe.”

  “Maybe we should both join him in that search.” He winked, but Leah had a suspicion there was truth to what he had said. “I gotta say, I wish I’d been more like that.” He took another long drink. “I knew I liked that boy. How old is he now, eighteen?”

  “Turned seventeen not too long ago.”

  “You know, if he has his head on this straight now, you may want to keep him in your sights for later.”

  Leah glanced behind her where Landon was adding wood to the fireplace. She should’ve changed the subject when he came back in. She wasn’t interested in Arlan, not like that. “I’m older than he is.”

  Jacob grinned. “By less than a year.” He stood. “It’s something to think about. This new settlement is going to need all the good-hearted, stout, young Amish men we can get. Because I’m telling you, if forty is the new thirty, Amish is the new freedom.”

  “What?” Leah laughed, shaking her head. “That makes no sense whatsoever.”

  “I bet this will.” He set his empty glass on the table. “There’s black smoke coming out of that little oven door you slammed a few minutes ago.”

  She wheeled toward it. “No!” She grabbed a potholder and flung the iron door open.

  “Sorry. I didn’t notice.” Landon passed her the tongs.

  Jacob patted her on the back, grabbed his tool belt, and left the room. She pulled the bread out and dropped it on the brick hearth.

  “Only the side that was closest to the heat burned.” Landon waved a dishtowel over the smoldering bread. “You can cut off that part.”

  Her eyes met his, and guilt for overreacting to his invitation seemed to be a hundred times thicker than the smoke in the room. “I’m sorry for being ugly about your offer.”

  He put the dishtowel on her shoulder. “I heard enough of the argument between you and Michael to know it’s him you’re mad at, not me. How could you be? I’m a nice guy.”

  Embarrassed, she moved the bread to the cooling rack on the table. One side was golden brown, so maybe it wouldn’t taste like smoke. “I … I’ve done some really stupid things. I don’t intend to repeat any of it.”

  He opened a window to let the smoke out. “It wasn’t a marriage proposal. Heck, I didn’t even ask to hold your hand. It was an offer to get away for a few hours, take a break.”

  “I like the idea, but mostly we’d have to grab a few minutes when we can.”

  “I can work with that. Whether you have a few minutes or a few hours, we can find things to do. One of the reasons I kept trying to get Rhoda to
move to Maine is that it’s so beautiful—the land, the lakes, the falls. There are walking trails everywhere. Ever hiked?”

  “Not really. I’ve told a few people to take a hike.”

  “I’m sure you have. I was almost one of them.”

  “Hey, I apologized for that. Mess with me, and I’ll give you the burned portion of the bread.”

  He smiled, looking no worse for the smart lip she had given him earlier. “If you had a few recipes that could be fixed in that cauldron that required you to buy something at a fish market, I could take you to see the beach.”

  Her heart turned a flip. “An ocean beach? Not just some sandy lakeshore?”

  “The Atlantic Ocean.”

  Her breathing sputtered. “Oh, Landon, really? I’ve always wanted to see it. Jacob loves the ocean—deep-sea fishing, scuba diving—but I just want to see it, maybe swim in it one day.”

  “You can count on us going. We even have a park nearby called Field of Dreams. You might like visiting it, just to say you’ve been there.”

  “What’s the big deal in saying I’ve been to Field of Dreams?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe you should help my granny with laundry and stuff a bit here and there.”

  “Okay.” She sang the word. “As if I don’t have enough to do here?”

  “She has stacks of movies, and Field of Dreams is one of them. You might like it.”

  Her heart pounded at the idea. “You are worth knowing.”

  “Yep. I’m a man with connections, a truck, and a license, and I’m not afraid to use ’em.”

  “Why would you be?”

  He chuckled. “I twisted the words from a movie. I don’t even know what movie, but the saying’s been around a while. Whatever your past mistakes were, they must not have included movies.”

  “They didn’t. But it sounds like fun. Other than trips to a fish market or to the local grocer or to help your granny, you may have to pick me up after everyone is asleep.”

  “You think that’s necessary even after what Jacob said?”