The Winnowing Season

by Cindy Woodsmall

  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 disli
ked 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?

  Still, his loyalty to Rhoda kept him from telling Leah why they couldn’t see each other, regardless of the temptation to do otherwise.

  He pulled onto the driveway. Rhoda was on the porch, and when she saw him, she walked out toward his truck. He turned down his radio, took a deep breath, and tried to exhale all his frustrations and desire to yell. After all, he wanted to keep his friendship with Rhoda. And his job.

  But what he had with Leah was a friendship, not a marriage proposal. He knew the Amish were uptight about their boundaries, but he hadn’t expected Rhoda to be like that. He cut the engine, pocketed his keys, and opened the door. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  Her eyes searched for signs of, well, something. Truth be told, he still didn’t want to look directly at her.

  “Mind if we go to the barn to talk for a minute?”

  “Sure.” He put his hands in his jacket pockets and followed Rhoda, telling himself not to be too upset regardless of what she had to say.

  They had argued before. This disagreement didn’t have to damage anything between them, except, well, he hadn’t been hurt by what went on between them before. But this? It hurt.

  Once in the barn office, she closed the door and sat on the edge of the desk. “Here’s the deal, Landon. I owe you an apology.”

  He blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, an apology certainly wasn’t on the list. He studied her. “About?”

  “Leah.”

  “You’ve said that already. I get it. You don’t like being the bad guy and telling me to back off.”

  “You’d think I would recognize when someone is intolerant of another person out of fear. People have reacted to me that way my whole life. But I didn’t see I was doing that very thing to you.” She appeared calm and focused, but he could tell she struggled to admit this. “I will go to Leah myself and tell her what I’ve done, but I wanted to talk to you first—just to be sure you’re okay with me setting the record straight.”

  Landon realized his mouth was slightly agape, and he snapped it shut. All his anger, frustration, and indignation faded into the familiar aching sorrow that pierced him whenever he had to watch Arlan drive off with Leah.

  “Are you saying I’m free to take Leah places and have her come to Granny’s?”

  “Ya. It wasn’t fair to—”

  “Wait.” Blood pumped against his ears, and his thoughts churned so fast that confusion swirled. “Really?”

  She smiled. “I have some reservations, but yes.”

  “What changed?”

  “I hadn’t talked to Samuel or even my brother about it. When I shared my concerns with Samuel this morning, he didn’t agree with me. It seems he trusts God to be the mediator between you and Leah. Do you agree?” She drew a breath. “I mean, can you walk carefully with Leah, not trying to get your way, but seeking God’s?”

  “Did she tell you we’d been going to church?”

  “No. That’s good though, I suppose.” Rhoda closed her eyes, taut lines straining her features for a moment.

  “You really are concerned about the doors I might open to her.”

  She nodded. “Life is not as lax as you tend to take it, but Samuel is right. I need to trust God with Leah. Anyway, like I said, I can talk with Leah and say it was my fault.”

  Landon considered her offer. With Leah’s sassy mouth, a little bit of a buffer might be nice, but he didn’t like other people speaking for him. “No, I can talk with her myself.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t mind accepting the blame here.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to blame you.” He offered a half grin.

  A faint smile crossed her lips. “Fair enough. I think she’s inside. Samuel and I were hoping you and Leah would like to take us to see some dogs in Penobscot County. You know, maybe pack a picnic lunch and make an outing of it.” She grimaced. “I really am sorry for not being more cautious with my opinions.”

  “Don’t go beating yourself up over this, Rhodes. Under all this stress, you were bound to make some bad calls.” He wanted to be some comfort to her. “And I’m glad Samuel’s willing to set you straight as needed.”

  She smiled. “Are you saying somebody needs to?”

  “Me, say that? Nah. I’ll let someone say it who doesn’t mind ticking you off.”

  They looked at each other, then said in unison, “Samuel.”

  They shared a laugh, and Landon was amazed at how good that felt. He had missed his friendship with Rhoda.

  As they left the barn, his relief grew. It wouldn’t be easy telling Leah that he had chosen to wall her off without a fight. But he clung to the hope that she might, just might, want to be his friend again.

  Leah took another dish from Phoebe and dried it, humming a song she had heard in the Protestant church she had visited with Landon.

  “That’s a nice tune, ya?” Phoebe handed her another dripping plate.

  Leah came out of her half-dazed state and took the plate. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to. I know I shouldn’t …” If a song wasn’t in the Ausbund, the Amish hymnal, it wasn’t to be sung or hummed, especially in front of a member of the faith.

  “Sounds good to me.” Phoebe passed her another wet plate.

  Leah smiled. Phoebe wasn’t stuffy about God like Leah’s parents were.

  “Good morning.” Landon’s greeting almost caused her to drop the plate.

  She turned. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, cap in hand, looking somewhat nervous or perturbed—perhaps a little of both.

  “Good morning, Landon.” Phoebe rinsed another dish. “There are plenty of biscuits if you’d like some, and I can make some more eggs.”

  Leah said nothing, but, oh, she had plenty that she wanted to say, starting with, “Hey, why don’t you like me anymore?” If they got a moment alone, she would ask him.

  “Thanks, but I’m good this morning.” He looked at Leah for the first time since he’d told her they couldn’t go out anymore. What was he so anxious about? “I was wondering, actually, if I could borrow Leah for a minute.”

  “If it’s me you want to talk to, it’s me you need to ask.” She turned to Phoebe. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

  Phoebe winked at her. “I know how you meant it.”

  Phoebe’s constant cheerful attitude, and Rhoda’
s steadfast patience with Jacob and her strength in the face of the legal issues, and Samuel’s continual growth into being a deeper, kinder man made Leah question whether she actually wanted to leave the faith or not. It had stability, and each person strove for godliness, which she’d come to admire.

  Leah turned back to Phoebe, who nodded and smiled. A slight pang of remorse hit her at the thought that she always seemed to be leaving Phoebe with extra chores and work. Nonetheless she handed over her towel and turned back to Landon.

  She followed him through the living room and out the front door, grabbing her coat from the rack and slipping it on as they went. Hope of their clearing the air thumped in her heart. What was his excuse for behaving like a nitwit?

  When he walked toward his truck, she balked. “Where are you going?”

  “I thought we’d talk where it’s warm and private.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.”

  “You want to stand in the cold or maybe go to a greenhouse?”

  “What do you want, Landon?”

  “Fine. We’ll stand in the cold.” Landon grimaced, looking unsure of himself. “I’m not quite sure where to begin, but I guess I’ll start with saying Rhoda saw me bringing you home late one night and you sneaking back into the house. She came to me and said I had to stop doing that and I needed to put some distance between us.”

  From the start Leah knew Rhoda would disapprove. Still, if Rhoda weren’t under such stress right now, Leah would march inside and have a heart-to-heart with her. A loud one. But Landon caved to Rhoda’s wishes without so much as telling Leah what was going on?

  “So you just cut me off?” She snapped her fingers in his face. “And why didn’t you tell me what was going on? That makes you seem a little too cowardly to me.”