The Winnowing Season

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “Depends.”

  She laughed. “On what?”

  “On what you’re going to say about it.”

  For no reason that she understood, she felt tears prick her eyes. The Englisch weren’t as detached from one another as she’d thought. Similarly, she supposed that not all Amish were as family oriented as the Englisch thought. “It’s sweet, Landon.”

  “Then I did it.”

  She pointed at him, gaining control of her emotions. “You be yourself. All the time.”

  He sat on the floor next to her. “I will if you will.” He tugged gently on the string of her prayer Kapp.

  She gazed into his eyes. “It’s harder for someone like me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I almost never fit in anywhere, and I know very little about most subjects.”

  “No one feels as if they fit in, Leah. All of us are learning all the time. It’s who you are that makes the difference.”

  She picked up the snow globe and shook it, watching the glitter settle over the manger scene. “I don’t know who I am. But I’m pretty sure I’ve been trying to figure it out in all the wrong ways.”

  A longing to know the true Christ filled her. Not the Christ of the Amish or the Englisch, but the Christ who lived and died in a place she was unfamiliar with, in a culture so different from the Englisch and the Amish she couldn’t imagine it. She wanted to know the Son of God who loved every nation and every culture if only people turned to Him. Then she would know whether she was willing to yield to His will.

  “Landon,”—she kept her eyes on the snow globe—“am I stupid?”

  “What?” He stared at her. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

  “Kumm on. Don’t lie. I don’t need that.” She shook her head, the snow globe taunting her ignorance. “I know that’s not true. But do you think I have a below normal IQ?”

  “No.” Landon shifted. “Why would you think that?”

  “There’s just so much I don’t know.”

  “Me either.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “You think I’m smart? Heck, I couldn’t even finish a two-year degree at a junior college.”

  “And I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Okay, so you’re not familiar with certain areas of life. That doesn’t make you stupid. A community or junior college is smaller than a college or university, and it offers fewer classes and only basic degrees. Now you know. And guess what? No one will ever have to explain it to you again, because you learn things easily and quickly and permanently. That’s what makes you smart. Why do you ask?”

  “I want to figure out my life, but if I’m too stupid to do it right, I need to know.” She took the snow globe ornament and hung it on the tree at eye level.

  Landon laughed. “I promise you that you’re just as smart or smarter than most who are trying to do the same thing.”

  “If you’re right, could we slip off to attend a church sometime?”

  “Because that’s part of what you want to figure out?”

  “Yeah, but even if I can slip off without being noticed, I can’t get to a church without a ride.”

  “We can do that. I’ll come get you on Sunday nights, saying Granny needs a little help, and we’ll go in search of a church. Can I drop you off?”

  She couldn’t breathe for a moment before realizing he was teasing her. “Landon, you will go with me, mostly so I can duck out the back and have a ride waiting if I don’t like it.”

  Leah stared at the Christmas tree. What did this next year hold for her? She would turn eighteen, but that seemed almost unimportant compared to all the other things on her heart and the doors of opportunity before her.

  “Do you believe He forgives every sin, even the ones we did on purpose?”

  “Yeah. And it fits with who He is. Why else would He leave heaven to come to earth to die a miserable death?”

  Leah paused. She had lived the near opposite of Jesus’s example. She had spent most days thinking about how to make her own life better. What would Jesus say about her desire to leave her Order? Would He tell her she was being selfish?

  “Cookies are ready!” Erlene walked into the room with a tray of cookies and milk.

  Leah tucked away her thoughts for a later time. For now, she was content to finish decorating and, for the first time ever, to turn on the lights of a Christmas tree.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Jacob laughed, trying to pluck the roasted marshmallow from Rhoda’s stick. Without much fanfare, she pulled it beyond his reach, secured the marshmallow, and from the kitchen table where they sat, she again extended the stick near the fire.

  Never directly over a flame, mind you. She was cautious and picky about the best way to warm the white fluff. He remembered their first marshmallow fight, the one that took place the night she had noticed him. Before he and Samuel picked her up that evening, Jacob already knew he wanted to court her. Now, at their second marshmallow roast, close to five months later, Jacob knew he wanted to marry her.

  Maybe he would propose on Christmas Day. That was just seven days away. Was he moving too fast for her? Maybe he was hoping for too much.

  While she held the long stick over the fire, he clutched it, jiggling it and refusing to let go.

  She smiled, a melancholy mood evident in her responses to him. “I’m not fighting over a marshmallow.” She released the stick to him “You want it, it’s yours.”

  “Ya?” He edged his chair closer to hers. “So what’s the fun in that?”

  The smile didn’t leave her face as she shrugged without answering.

  Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t prod her into cutting up with him. So what was on her mind? He was in no hurry to figure it out. They had the whole evening, and with another long week of work behind them, they were alone at last, facing the warmth of the kitchen hearth. Well, somewhat alone. The house had plenty of people, but all of them gave Rhoda and him their Sunday evening courting privacy. He couldn’t imagine a better way to start a week.

  “Look what you did.” She pointed at the marshmallow that had caught fire.

  “It’s your fault.” He let the burning marshmallow melt and fall into the fire before he stuck a fresh one onto the stick.

  “So is that one for me?” Rhoda nudged his arm.

  “Oh, it’s for you, but you won’t get to eat it.” He tried to maintain a poker face, a term that he had not understood until his time with the Englisch. “Because I intend to stick it in your hair.”

  “If you do, I’ll …” Rhoda paused, clearly trying to think of the best response threat.

  “Have gooey hair?”

  Rhoda’s expression spread into a confident grin. “Well, that too, I suppose. But then I’ll have to leave you to go wash my hair.”

  He quickly laid the stick on the table. “You win.” He put his arm around her. “Because you’re going nowhere.” He leaned in until his lips were covering hers.

  She kissed him.

  Jacob reluctantly pulled away, sighing contentedly. She knew more about his past than he’d ever hoped to share with anyone, and they continued to grow closer. The past seven weeks since he’d shared his secrets with Rhoda had been some of the best he’d ever known.

  “Rhodes.” He brushed his fingers along the back of her hand. “What’s going on inside that beautiful head of yours?”

  A faint smile and a shrug was the only answer he received.

  Was it Nicole?

  She’d been coming by to work with Samuel for at least an hour every day for three weeks. She spent all day with them on her days off from the store. Strangely enough, Samuel seemed to look forward to seeing her. If she arrived before or during dinner, he wasted no time in excusing himself and disappearing with her to work on the solar panel installations.

  But the young woman’s coming and going seemed to grate on Rhoda’s nerves. When he’d asked her about it, she simply said the necessary interruptions put her and Samuel be
hind on other work.

  Jacob tended to keep a low profile when Nicole was around, but he’d met her and had waved at her from a distance a couple of times. Mostly he worked elsewhere, aiming to make up for whatever chore Samuel was unable to do because of the solar panel work.

  Samuel asked Nicole not to use their real names if she ever blogged about them. He said she not only agreed to it, but she seemed to accept that the request was simply the Amish way. And it was. It just wasn’t a rule that most Amish worried about.

  Jacob intertwined his fingers with hers. “Kumm on. I’ve seen something flicker through those gorgeous eyes half a dozen times.”

  “Oh, really? Know me that well, do you?” Rhoda propped her chin on her hand, grinning.

  “Ya.” He squeezed her hand, talking softly. “And I want you to tell me.”

  She studied him. “You’re sure?”

  As if a candle had been lit in a dark room, he knew what was bothering her: Bob and Camilla Cranford. At first he thought her friendship with them was a bit of a substitute for missing her parents, who were about ten years younger than Bob and Camilla. “I’m sure.”

  He had declined every invitation from Rhoda or Camilla for a visit. Sandra had him edgy about keeping a low profile in Maine, but he could do this for his Rhodes, couldn’t he?

  “I know you’re reluctant to visit people’s homes or do anything that makes you stick out, but—”

  “You want me to meet Camilla and Bob.”

  Rhoda propped her arms on the table. “They’ve invited us to dinner on Christmas.”

  “And?” He knew there was more. Rhoda had talked to him about the Cranfords several times, sharing her thoughts.

  She played with a tiny piece of bark that had fallen off the stick. “I can’t tell them what I keep hearing … and seeing. It’s clearly a closed subject. I figured that out during my first visit, so I wouldn’t push them on it, but you’re good at figuring out moods and piecing together what people aren’t saying. I need your help with this.”

  This request to help her understand some part of what she was picking up on was completely new, and he liked that she trusted him, but … “I won’t be any good at helping you. I know you think I would, but I’m only good at figuring out your mood and what you’re not telling me.”

  “Then come with me anyway. I think you’d like them. Camilla is very serious about life—sort of a quiet, stalwart woman—but she has quite the sense of humor when trying to teach me how to cook Maine style. And Bob has done a little of everything on the ocean—from deep-sea fishing to sailing. You’d have a good time. And it could be your Christmas present to me.”

  How could he deny her request, regardless of what Sandra thought? Actually, he was beginning to like this idea. She cared for them so much that they’d probably have a great time. Then maybe on their buggy ride home, he’d discover it was the perfect time to ask her to marry him.

  Jacob had a new plan. “But if I say yes now, you’ll know what your present is.”

  “Really? You’re not just teasing me?”

  “It’s yours. You can count on it.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him.

  “Jacob.” Leah slammed the front door as she entered.

  “In the kitchen, trying to apply some frosting to Rhoda’s hair.” He winked at Rhoda.

  Leah came through the kitchen door, unbuttoning her coat. “There’s a phone call for you.”

  Jacob paused for a moment, the enjoyment of his quiet evening with Rhoda draining from him. “Who is it?”

  “She wouldn’t say. Sounds like an old woman or someone who’s about half dead.” Leah shrugged.

  He looked at Rhoda. Her grin faded as quickly as his. “I’ll be right back.” He smiled, only this time it was forced. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He went to the barn, hoping it wasn’t Sandra. But who else would it be? Hardly anyone knew he was living here. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. It could be Erlene, but he had no idea why Landon’s grandmother would need to speak with him. Besides, Leah would have recognized her voice.

  The cold nipped at his skin, and he realized he’d forgotten to put on his coat. He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Jacob?” The woman was very hoarse, but he was sure it was Sandra.

  “Yes.”

  “Casey’s sick.” Sandra barely got the words out before she burst into a fit of coughing. Leah wasn’t exaggerating when she said the woman sounded half dead. “She’s bad, Jacob. I … I can’t get her fever down. It’s gone over a hundred and three, and she can’t stop coughing. I can barely stand. I … I don’t know what to do.”

  Was she asking for his help or his advice? Even though he felt awful hearing Sandra speak, he was desperate for her not to need him to come there.

  “Can you get her to a doctor?” It was a stupid question. If she could, she wouldn’t have called.

  “Mommy …” Casey choked through the receiver. “Mommy …”

  “I’m here, sweetheart. Mommy’s right here.” Sandra burst into another round of coughs. “Jacob, I’m so sorry. Please …”

  He had no choice. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Was she crying? Sandra was like Rhoda in that she didn’t cry easily. A trait he appreciated.

  Jacob hung up, and then he called Landon, asking if he could get a ride to the closest train station. He couldn’t borrow Landon’s truck. Most stores were too far to get to by horse and buggy, and if Jacob took Landon’s truck, it would leave the others stranded on the farm. They would ask Erlene, if they had no choice, but right now Landon was keeping Samuel and Nicole supplied with whatever they needed: lumber, wires, and tools.

  How would Rhoda take this news?

  She was standing next to the door as he reentered the house. “Is everything all right?”

  “Sandra’s sick, and so is Casey. They need my help. I won’t be gone long.” If he was doing the right thing to help a child, why did he feel so terrible about it? “You okay with that?”

  “Sure. You go and don’t think twice about it.”

  He should tell her that he would never be free of Sandra. She deserved to know that. Maybe she did know that. But he couldn’t make himself say it. Whether it was fear, shame, remorse, or all three, he was chained by his own silence.

  He went to his room, Rhoda following at his heels. He kept expecting more questions, but she didn’t ask anything else. Her eyes followed him with that piercing gaze only she could give, the kind of look he could feel even when his back was turned to her. If she was okay with him going, why was she studying him? “I need to change.”

  She nodded and stepped out of the room. He changed into his Englisch clothes. He needed to look the part if he was going to pass himself off as Casey’s uncle to get her seen by a doctor. Sandra might need treatment too.

  He pulled what cash he had out of his top drawer and stuffed it into his wallet, hoping it would be enough. Doctor visits could be expensive. Hospital visits were even more so. As far as he knew, people could pay a small amount up-front and receive the bill later. Did Sandra still have health insurance? Was health insurance trackable?

  When he emerged, Rhoda was just outside his door, studying him. What was that look in her eyes? Hurt? Distrust? Sympathy?

  Tell her. Tell her everything.

  Why would he consider doing that? She had told him she didn’t want to know more. “I have to go.”

  “You’ll be back for Christmas?”

  “Absolutely. That’s a week from now. I’m sure she only needs a few days. Six tops, and that’ll put me home on Christmas Eve.”

  “Gut. I’ll tell Bob and Camilla we’re both coming Christmas Day. They’re ready to meet you.”

  “You make those plans, and I’ll call every day until I’m home again.”

  She smiled. “I might not be here every day. You’re not the only one with a friend.”

  He should�
�ve agreed to meet Bob and Camilla before now. Who was running his life? Him or Sandra? Drawing a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. “You are the best, Rhodes. You know that?” But I’ll never be free of my obligations to Sandra.

  For a brief second he almost had the strength to say what he needed to. How often would Sandra need him now that she’d had to leave the small safety net she had with a few friends at her last place?

  He pulled her close. “I’m sorry.”

  With his leaving he heaped more work onto her and Samuel’s shoulders and would return home with less money to help make ends meet. He lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it, and we’ll pick up where we left off.” He mimicked putting a marshmallow on her head.

  She pointed a finger at him. “You’d better rethink that plan.”

  He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

  A car horn tooted. Landon had arrived.

  “I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.” Jacob went down the stairs and out the door with one question nagging him.

  How many times could he go to help Sandra and expect Rhoda to pick up where they’d left off whenever he returned?

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Rhoda sat on the living room floor with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. Christmas breakfast had been followed by reading the story of Jesus’s birth from the Bible, hours of relaxed visiting, and the noon feast prepared by Phoebe, Leah, and Rhoda. All that was over hours ago. Now it was time to open presents.

  Jacob had missed most of Christmas Day. Would he miss all of it, including going to the Cranfords?

  Steven passed a gift to his son, spoke a blessing in High German, and kissed his forehead. He then did the same to his daughter.

  Her niece and nephew finally had permission to open their gifts. Polite conversations meandered between the adults—Leah, Samuel, Phoebe, and Steven. Rhoda tried to contribute and hoped no one realized she had almost nothing to say. She wasn’t sure why Jacob still being gone weighed on her this much.

  Arie removed the last of the wrapping paper and held up her new doll. “Guck! Guck!”

  Her niece’s voice rang with such excitement as she kept repeating the word look. Arie came to her. “Guck.”