Rhoda tightened her fists. “Nobody in all of Pennsylvania feels less powerful than I do. I can’t breathe without causing a scandal.”
“Seems to me you deserve to have people watching over you,” Rueben said.
Rhoda wanted to cram a handful of Dryopteris down Rueben’s throat. The herb was good for killing tapeworm, but in the dose she imagined giving him, he’d land in the hospital too sick to stir up trouble for her.
“Rhodes.” Her Daed’s tone indicated his sympathy for what Rueben and Naomi were saying.
She bit back tears. “You too?”
Her father took her by the hand. “Perhaps it’s time to uproot the herbs.”
It’s time? First Emma’s voice in her mind, and now her Daed’s words?
“I can’t do it.” Tears filled her eyes as she gazed over her shoulder at her herb garden. She couldn’t rip it up. That’d give Rueben his way, and she’d be laughed at for being disciplined by the church.
She faced her Daed. “I’ve gone to a handful of people’s houses over the last two years. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but if you talk to them, they’ll tell you that I helped them feel better. That isn’t the trouble. The problem is the gossip Rueben is stirring.”
“What?” Rueben exploded. “I’m not the problem.”
“You spy like a fox waiting to raid the henhouse,” she spat.
“Enough,” Naomi snapped. “Karl, the church leaders have been very patient. It’s been two years since Rhoda showed her true colors. You need to give the community and our church leaders a sure sign that you want to put an end to the ungodly image of Rhoda casting spells. Our Englisch neighbors need that from us too.”
Daed stared into Rhoda’s eyes. “If getting rid of the herbs will stop the lies among our people, it’s the right thing to do. In time maybe it’ll help ease the tension between us and our Englisch neighbors. And you’ll still have your berry bushes and your canning business.”
“No!” She turned away and looked over the four-foot fence, watching her herbs sway in the spring breeze. Even the drab ones, with their brownish green and soft gray tints, held a special kind of beauty.
A noise caused her to turn back in time to see Rueben and Naomi entering the shed where she housed her gardening tools. Her father stood at the doorway of the building, still talking to them. Rueben came out carrying a shovel, and her aunt followed behind him, pushing a wheelbarrow.
“No.” She positioned herself in front of the gate.
“The herbs have to go,” Naomi said. “It’s best for the whole community.” She took the shovel from Rueben and held it out to Rhoda. “You should do it yourself.”
“Please, no.” Tears blurred her vision as she shook her head. She could already envision Rueben destroying her herbs. It wouldn’t take him any effort to scoop the herbs out of the raised beds with a shovel.
Daed’s supportive hand cupped her elbow. “Kumm.” He took several steps back, and she moved away from the gate.
She wanted to grab the shovel and uproot the plants herself just to keep Rueben out of her garden. But sorrow filled her like lead as she watched, unmoving, while he destroyed her plants. And she knew this was only the first victory he hoped to win against her.
THREE
The mid-July sun bore down heavy as Samuel swung the sickle to and fro, making his way through a section of the apple orchard. Eli and Jacob were heading toward him, each pushing a reel mower and probably as ready to stop for the day as he was.
But he kept working, and with every swing he prayed for a good crop this upcoming harvest. Tiny apples hung thick on all thirty acres of trees. That was a great sign. If he could keep the trees healthy for the next three months, Kings’ Orchard could make up some of the financial loss from the disappointing harvests of the last few years.
His Daed handled the care and feeding of their fifteen milk cows and sold the raw, organic milk to a small Englisch company that made cheese products. But he’d given charge of the orchard to Samuel several years back.
Jacob stopped the reel mower a hundred feet from Samuel. “I’m starving.” He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.
Eli came to a halt too, released the push mower, and stretched to work out the kinks. “Can’t we head in?”
Samuel removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat off his face. He was sure his younger brothers’ bodies ached as much as his did from a week of constantly cutting grass, but it’d be foolhardy to give the mice ample places to build their grassy tunnels straight to the tree trunks.
“Soon. I want to walk the back tierce first.”
“What?” Eli frowned. “That’s crazy. We’ve worked too hard, and it’s too late in the day to do that.”
Samuel shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I keep promising myself that I’ll get out that far. It’s been too long since I’ve inspected it.”
“It’s my section, and I’m telling you it’s fine,” Eli said.
Jacob shrugged. “He’s got a point, Samuel. You put it under his care. Trust him.”
Samuel knew he should’ve gone out there earlier today without mentioning it. The thirty-acre orchard wasn’t large compared to the corporate-owned ones, but it took the three of them from sunup to sundown daily to tend it. Every season required unique care to keep up with the front, middle, and back tierce, as they called them. The word tierce was Latin for “third,” and even though they helped each other as needed, each man was responsible for a specific tierce.
Jacob eyed the three horses that stood grazing under a nearby tree. He moved closer to Samuel and nudged him with his elbow, clearly making plans for getting back to the house before their youngest brother. Samuel shook his head. He wasn’t one to play, but Jacob was, and he often prodded his brothers into it.
“We have work to finish, Jacob.”
“There’s no such thing as finishing, just stopping, and I say it’s time to call it a day.” Jacob turned from looking at the horses, glanced at Eli, and winked at Samuel.
Each horse had on a harness but no bit in its mouth and no saddle to make mounting it easier. He and his brothers had ridden them that way to the orchard this morning, and sometimes, when they were working near one another, they’d use them to race each other home.
“Fine. I’ll check on the back tierce another day. But let’s get the mowers and tools under a tarp first.”
Eli groaned, too distracted by his sore shoulder to realize Jacob was plotting against him.
The three of them laid the blue tarp over the tools and mousetraps and then placed a few broken tree limbs around the edges to keep the wind from snatching it. To retain their organic growers status, they avoided putting any kind of poison around the trees and instead used mousetraps that were small homemade cages.
Eli dropped a heavy log into place.
Samuel rolled his eyes. “Careful where you put the weight on the tarp, Eli. You could damage the mowers or the mousetraps.”
Eli did what he did best—ignored Samuel.
Just as Samuel placed the last log, Jacob took off running for the horses.
“Hey!” Eli hollered. “He tricked us, Samuel. Kumm. We can’t let him win.” He bolted after Jacob.
Samuel moaned, positive there were better ways to use their remaining energy, but he took off and soon passed Eli. “I can’t let you win either.”
When he’d almost caught up with Jacob, Samuel reached for Jacob’s shirt and had nearly grabbed it when Jacob bobbed to the left. Samuel took the opportunity to get ahead of Jacob, but he stepped into a hole and fell hard, scaring the horses and scattering them.
Jacob stopped short, laughing so hard he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Samuel rolled onto his back, chuckling. “Guess we all lose this round.”
“Not quite,” Eli yelled.
Samuel leaned up on one elbow in time to see Eli mount a horse.
“You scared them right toward me.” He raised both fists
into the air. “Victory is mine!” He rode off, whistling.
“You’d better enjoy it!” Jacob hollered. “It’s not going to happen again.” He looked down at Samuel. “You’re never going to get home lying down on the job.”
“I’m no worse off than you are, Brother. We’re both without horses.”
Jacob frowned. “That’s true.” He held out his hand and helped Samuel up. “How did we let Little Bro beat us?”
Samuel removed his straw hat and used it to dust off his pants. “Don’t know what your excuse is, but I’m getting old.”
Jacob chortled. “Face it. You were born old.”
Samuel looked up to see Jacob’s horse standing twenty feet away. “But I still have a trick or two up my sleeve.” He pulled a cube of sugar out of his pocket and held it toward the horse. She whinnied and trotted over to him.
“If you’re so smart, why didn’t you do that sooner?”
“Forgot I had it.” He took hold of the mare’s harness while she ate the sugar from his hand. “As I said, I’m getting old.”
“I’ll say.” Jacob clutched the horse’s mane and mounted her.
“Hey!” Samuel tightened his grasp on the harness.
“Sorry, Brother, but second place is better than last.” The horse danced one way and then the other, and Samuel lost his grip.
Jacob clicked his tongue, making the horse head toward the barn.
“I’ll get you for this, Jacob King,” Samuel laughed.
“Not tonight you won’t,” he hollered over his shoulder.
“Could somebody please tell me what brothers are good for?” Of course, Jacob couldn’t hear him over the thundering hoofbeats.
Samuel studied the remaining horse, a good thirty feet away. If he had an apple, he wouldn’t need to walk the twenty-plus acres between here and the barn. He got a sickle from under the tarp, wondering how he could get one of those tiny apples down without damaging the branch or the surrounding apples. Since they weren’t even close to ripe, they wouldn’t fall easily. He went to a low-hanging branch, hooked it with the flat part of the sickle, and pulled the limb toward him. The bough slid off to the side, and the apple waved at him from its secure perch.
Giving up for the moment, he decided to do a better job of securing the tarp over the equipment. He removed the covering altogether and did some minimal upkeep on the two mowers—tightening the blade reel and rollers and wiping the metal handles with an oily rag so they wouldn’t rust where the paint had chipped. After he finished taking care of things the way he’d wanted to earlier, he grabbed the sickle again, returned to an apple tree, and started trying to get another one down. Before he succeeded, he heard hoofbeats coming his way. He lowered the sickle and turned. Jacob was riding well ahead of a girl, both heading straight for him.
Samuel leaned the sickle against the trunk of a tree, grateful again that his brother had given up traveling a year and a half ago to help the family work the orchard. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Catherine came to the house looking for you.”
“Ah.” He grinned, realizing she was the girl heading his way. He’d thought about her all day but hadn’t expected her to come visit him. “Girlfriends tend to come over unannounced from time to time. If you ever had one, you’d know that,” Samuel teased. “We’ll have to work on getting you one.”
Jacob chuckled. “If you ever find a woman who is one-fourth as interesting as my beloved ocean, I’ll consider courting her.”
“That’s a tall order. Your scuba-diving adventures held your interests pretty captive for a while.” Samuel tugged on his wet, smelly shirt. He’d planned to get a shower before he picked up Catherine tonight, for her sake.
Jacob glanced back, seriousness written on his face in spite of their joking. “She’s upset about something. Wouldn’t say what, only that she needed to see you right away.”
Concern barely nibbled at Samuel. She was tender-hearted, and it didn’t take much to upset her. That was especially true at the end of a workweek after she’d cleaned homes for numerous Englisch families. “I appreciate your bringing her out here.”
Her sense of direction was good on a road, but in the midst of the orchard with no road or house in sight, she easily got turned around.
Catherine brought the horse to a stop, and he helped her down.
“You okay?”
She glanced at Jacob before turning her head the other way. “It’s about Leah,” she whispered.
Samuel’s heart cinched tight with frustration. He pulled her into a hug and felt her trembling. “Take a breath, sweetheart.” His seventeen-year-old sister listened to no one, and he feared for her future.
From his perch on the horse, Jacob pulled a small apple off a tree and tossed it on the ground near Samuel, giving him a way to easily catch the last horse. What they needed were better-trained horses, ones that came to them—or at least could be approached—just because their owners needed them, not because they were bribed.
“I’ll go now.” Jacob clicked his tongue, and the horse headed toward home.
“Denki, Jacob. I owe you.” Samuel traced Catherine’s cheek with his index finger. “What happened?”
“I was at Zip’n Mart less than an hour ago and saw Leah coming out of the girls’ rest room. She didn’t see me, and I didn’t want to confront her there.” Concern was reflected in her eyes. “Oh, Samuel, she was scantily dressed and got into a car with some other teenagers dressed the same way. I’m positive they were heading for a party. Someone said they were going to Morgansville. If you hire a driver and—”
Samuel pocketed the apple and held out his hand. “Let’s walk.”
She put her soft, petite hand in his. He took hold of one rein of her horse and looked it over. “Eli must have thrown a bridle and saddle on this horse pretty quick for you.” Samuel held the rein, and the horse ambled behind them. He and Catherine were likely to walk the whole way home.
“Ya, and Jacob brought me out here without even taking time to dismount. They both must think I’m such a … girl.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure they do. But don’t mind that. Your being a girl is one of my favorite things about you.”
She grinned. “You’re awful.”
“Horrible.”
She grew serious again. “What are we going to do about your sister?”
He wanted to shake some sense into Leah. When he saw her next, he intended to lecture her until she finally understood the importance of living as she should. But right now he was more interested in putting his and Catherine’s date night on a happier note. “I’ve considered locking her in a closet until she turns twenty. I think that’d fix the problem. How about you?”
She shoved her shoulder into him. “This is serious, Samuel.”
“I know. And I’ll do what I can to address her behavior once she gets home. But it’s Friday night, and she’s not the one I want on my mind right now.”
Catherine stopped. “You really are horrible.”
“Ghastly.”
She moved in closer for a second. “Ach.” She backed away, wrinkling her nose.
He chuckled. “So now you notice that I need a shower.”
“Boy, do you.”
“I need food too.”
“Your Mamm was getting dinner on the table when I arrived at the house. The reason I stopped by Zip’n Mart in the first place was because I wanted to make your favorite dessert, but now I’m all off schedule.”
“You were going to make me a blueberry pie?”
She nodded.
“And you let seeing Leah at the store stop you?”
“Not reason enough?”
He grabbed his chest. “You’re killing me, Cat.”
“Do not call me that.”
“Please, Miss Catherine, if you’ll make me a pie while I shower, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Anywhere? How about to the Lapps’ place?”
“We’ve talked about this enough. The an
swer remains no.”
“But it’s been months, and the Lapps still have puppies that need a good home, really cute ones.”
“I don’t want a dog.”
She poked out her bottom lip. “You could at least go see them.”
He sighed. “Why? Who goes to look at free dogs when they don’t intend to get one?”
“Me for one. I’ve gone often since they were born. If Daed wasn’t allergic, I’d have two by now. And another person who’d go is a boyfriend who offered to take his girl wherever she wanted.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want, I’ll take you.”
“But no chance of getting a dog?”
“Kumm on, Catherine. Dogs ruin floors and tear up things. I want to keep saving for a future home, not spend money replacing stuff in my parents’ house.”
Catherine squeezed his hand. “That was a good answer.”
“Ya, I figured you’d like it.”
Now that Catherine seemed calm and content, Samuel could no longer keep at bay his disappointment in Leah. It angered him that Catherine had witnessed his sister’s inappropriate behavior. His very tender-hearted girlfriend wouldn’t get over this anytime soon. When he saw Leah, he’d have plenty to say to her.
But regardless of what he said, he had more power to change the weather than to stop his little sister from sowing her wild oats. The tradition of rumschpringe gave her the extra freedom. No one under the age of sixteen had that kind of freedom nor did any baptized member. It was meant as a bridge between the confines of childhood, when a person was always under a parent’s watchful eye, and the independence of full adulthood. It was a time to relax and grow new bonds among the Amish community that would last throughout one’s life. But his sister was using her running-around time to experience how the godless lived, and the results were surely bound to haunt her.
A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series Page 3
