A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “The recipes yielded absolutely scrumptious items.” She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic bowl with a lid. “I had to use store-bought apples, and I made only a few of the items she has recipes for—apple butter, cider, jam, jelly, and pie filling.”

  She grabbed two forks from a drawer, passed one to each of them, and pulled the lid off the bowl. “Try this.”

  Jacob peered inside. “Pie filling?”

  “Similar, but this is for apple dumplings. The consistency is a little different, and the apple slices are smaller.”

  He and Samuel eagerly dug their forks in.

  Jacob’s mouth watered. “Wow,” he mumbled around the delicious bite.

  Samuel took longer, savoring the concoction. “That’s incredible, Rhoda.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you reconsidering canning goods for us?”

  “I am. But my tiny cellar can’t handle a lot, and I’m wondering if the answer you need is found elsewhere and maybe I’m supposed to help with that. Either way, I’m willing to do what I can for this season. Maybe I’ll be able to help you find a more permanent solution between now and next year.”

  Jacob almost let out a whoop. He loved this plan. It was the best of both worlds. Her commitment to help this year would keep the two of them connected for the next few months. As for finding someone else to take on the canning in the following years? They had plenty of time to figure that out.

  Samuel’s deep sigh showed his relief at her words. “Let’s share this news with the family and celebrate.”

  Rhoda grabbed a sweater off a nearby chair. “I’m ready.”

  “A sweater in August?” Jacob asked. “The first week in August, no less.”

  “I might need it later tonight. I can leave it here if you prefer, and if I get cool, you can return for it.”

  “Now that I think about it, your plan’s a good one.” Jacob picked up the box of canned goods from the kitchen table. “And we’d better enjoy tonight because we’ve got more work to do than we can even imagine if we’re going to get your business ready for the onslaught of apple season.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Rhoda stood on one side of the volleyball net, giggling at the many conversations and quips making the rounds during the game. Samuel was on her team, but to her right Catherine sat in a lawn chair on the sidelines because she didn’t play volleyball. Instead, she kept Hope from getting tangled up in the players’ feet. This game wasn’t Rhoda’s specialty either, and she’d told Jacob and Samuel that. But they wouldn’t believe her, so she was proving it to them the hard way, which had been more fun than she’d had in years.

  Rhoda had pulled Leah onto their team, and despite her initial reluctance to play, she seemed to be having a good time. The rest of the two teams were made up of Kings galore whose names she didn’t remember, except Eli.

  “Rhoda, heads up!”

  At Jacob’s warning she looked up to see a whir of white hurtling toward her. She backed up a foot or two and swiped at it with her clutched hands. To her surprise she made contact with the ball, sending it ricocheting to the side, and she expected to have earned another point for the opposing team. Instead, Samuel spun around backward, got under the ball, and knocked it over the net behind him to score a point. A round of cheers went up from her team.

  The players all shifted over one spot, and she ended up facing Jacob. “Denki for the warning.”

  “This isn’t her sport.” Samuel repeated what she’d said earlier.

  Jacob made a face at his brother. “Hey, she hit the ball.”

  “Ya, Samuel, what’s your problem?” Rhoda pointed at Jacob. “I’m the best player he has.”

  Samuel chuckled. “He’s not on our team.”

  She couldn’t have imagined how different, how lighthearted and funny Samuel was when the pressure of Kings’ Orchard wasn’t pulling on him.

  Jacob grinned. “I knew I wanted you at this gathering for some reason.”

  She stretched the net toward herself a tad and let it go. It smacked him in the face, and he went to his knees, holding his left eye. “Ouch.”

  Rhoda hurried to his side. “Jacob, I’m sorry.”

  He fell over and rolled on the ground, hollering. When she realized he was playing, she stood and pretended to kick him although she barely touched her shoe to his side. He writhed as if her light tap had put him in agony.

  “Kick him again.” Samuel’s grin was as infectious as it was unexpected.

  Rhoda had enjoyed every minute since arriving here hours ago. Samuel’s family had tasted the canned goods she’d made earlier today. They’d oohed and aahed over how delicious the food was, and they welcomed the idea of her joining Kings’ Orchard as a partner.

  She spun away from the laughing brothers. “Hope!” The dog in Catherine’s arms sat up, yelping in response. “Get Samuel. Go on, get him.”

  Jacob jumped up, clapping his hands as he’d done in the van, urging the puppy into a frenzy. The little puppy broke free of Catherine’s hold and ran to Samuel, barking like crazy.

  “Did you teach that dog to fetch me?”

  “Ya,” Jacob said. “Like anyone could train that dog to do anything except bark.”

  “Ready to serve,” Leah yelled.

  Samuel scooped up Hope and took her back to Catherine before returning to his spot. Rhoda hurried to hers, trying to curb her laughter. When her eyes met Jacob’s, he winked. A friendly gesture, nothing more, but a hint of attraction flickered in his eyes.

  In the last four hours, the awkwardness of getting to know each other had disappeared completely between her, Jacob, and Samuel, as had all professional politeness. She’d made sure these brothers realized she didn’t mind being teased as long as they didn’t mind her dishing it back to them.

  The two men were different in many ways, but both seemed to have good hearts. And she had to admit that Jacob had a bit of unwelcome power over her. How could she go twenty-two years and not feel pulled to one man and then feel it from two men in a matter of weeks?

  But she was over her crush on Samuel. He had someone. Perhaps what she’d been feeling for Samuel wasn’t romantic attraction after all. Maybe what she’d felt was simply the beginnings of a budding friendship, like what she enjoyed with Landon.

  And maybe what she’d thought she felt for Samuel was God’s way of getting her to Kings’ Orchard so she could meet Jacob. And what a wonderfully surprising man he was.

  Leah’s serve bounded over the net, and the two teams managed a few volleys before Jacob sideswiped the ball, making it skim the net and fall to the ground directly in front of Rhoda. A few moans escaped along with applause, assuring her it was a good game despite the last play that cost her team the win.

  “Denki, Jacob.” She gave him a cheeky grin.

  He held up his hands, shrugging. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, really.”

  “Ya,” Samuel chuckled. “I believe him. He had no reason to do that. You needed no help in losing the game.”

  “You two are awful.” She pointed at each one. “I can see now how it will be working together this fall.”

  Jacob came under the net and pushed Samuel. “I told you not to invite her to this unless we were on our good behavior.”

  “This is our good behavior, Brother.”

  Jacob made an apologetic face. “I’m afraid he may be telling the truth.”

  Rhoda wagged a finger at him before ducking under the net and going to Leah. She looped her arm through Leah’s. “I refuse to help lose another game. Let’s do something I’m good at—roasting marshmallows.”

  “You do know you helped us win a couple of games, right?” Leah smiled at her.

  “My winning streak is clearly over. Let’s soothe our disappointment with junk food.”

  They went around to the side of the house where two open fires were blazing. Near them, picnic tables were set up with sticks and all the fixings for s’mores. About fifteen young people, ranging from the midteens t
o the mid-twenties, sat in lawn chairs or stood around talking and roasting marshmallows.

  Rhoda and Leah each grabbed a stick, put a marshmallow on it, and held it over the fire. After they’d eaten it and started roasting a second, Jacob joined them.

  He skewered a marshmallow with a stick. “I’ve never done this.”

  Rhoda stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

  He shrugged. “Always seemed like an odd custom. And I don’t like marshmallows.”

  “Then why are you holding one over the fire?”

  “Figured it was time I got the hang of something new—sort of like you and volleyball.”

  She raised her stick away from the fire and pointed it at him. “Maybe we should practice volleyball with warm marshmallows.”

  “Maybe.” He tried to pluck the gooey treat off her stick.

  Rhoda jerked it away from him before returning it to the heat.

  “Jacob,” Leah chuckled, “yours is on fire.”

  He pulled it out of the flame. “No, it’s not.”

  But it was, and he couldn’t see the side that was burning. He turned it one way and then another, finally spotting the small row of flames. “Ach, it is on fire.” He swung the stick back and forth, causing the fire to grow, and the marshmallow flew off and hit his shirt—still flaming.

  He looked around. “Where’d it go?”

  Rhoda chortled, pointing at his chest.

  He looked down and knocked it off his shirt, flinging it toward Rhoda. She jumped back.

  “Sorry.” Jacob’s green eyes were large with surprise and an apology.

  With good wrist action, she whipped her stick, and the perfectly toasted marshmallow hit him in almost the same spot as the first one.

  “Rhodes, what are you doing?” He removed the stringy mess and held it out to her, stepping closer.

  She pointed at him with her stick. “Don’t you dare come near me with that.”

  “It’s a little adornment for your hair. Might sit nicely on top of your prayer Kapp.” He moved in closer, and she could smell his aftershave.

  She refused to run. He might chase her, and that would seem too flirtatious. She grabbed Leah, pulling her between them and using her as a shield. Leah laughed and spun the other way, breaking Rhoda’s grip. When he had the gummy white ball mere inches from her face, he popped it into his mouth.

  “Good decision,” Rhoda told him.

  He studied her, a lopsided, pursed-lip smile on his face. Her heart raced.

  Leah grabbed her by the hand. “Kumm. The hayride’s about to begin.” They rushed that way, and Leah turned back. “Jacob. Kumm.”

  Although keeping some space seemed wise, Rhoda’s heart leaped when Jacob did as his sister demanded.

  Samuel watched from a distance as Rhoda and Jacob cut up and played in a way he and Catherine never had. He hoped Jacob knew what he was doing.

  Since Samuel had left Catherine on Sunday night to take Leah home, he’d had minimal contact with her. He’d called her on Monday and said he’d see her tonight but not before. He’d needed time away from her to cool off, and she needed to do some serious thinking about her motivation behind lying to Arlan.

  Loyalty meant so much to him, and she knew that. Nonetheless, she had chosen to behave in a disloyal way. It wasn’t about how she felt toward Leah. True loyalty held a person firm despite ever-changing emotions, like holding on to a tree in a windstorm.

  Leah, Jacob, and Rhoda climbed onto an already-moving hay wagon. Their laughter filled the air, and Samuel couldn’t help but laugh too.

  Rhoda’s decision to work for them relieved and thrilled him. And maybe the new friendship Leah had with Rhoda and the good time they were having would help scrub away his sister’s frustration with Amish life. Maybe Rhoda could use Leah’s help with the canning. If she did and Leah was agreeable, it might benefit both of them.

  Catherine walked up to him, leading Hope on a leash. “Samuel, I need to tell you something.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.” He kept his eyes on the wagon as it moved farther into the darkness of night, trying to understand the multitude of emotions within him.

  “Samuel,”—Catherine took his arm—“I know you’re just now getting over being upset with me, and I don’t want to cause any problems. But we need to talk.”

  He looked at her. “Of course. What’s up?”

  “You think I’m wrong to keep asking you to talk to my brother, don’t you?”

  “Ya. I’ve talked to him some. You know that, but I’m not even sure what I should say to him. He’s playing music about God and attending a church, not selling drugs or stealing cars. Maybe it’s not our place to say anything.”

  Catherine crouched to stroke the pup a few times, then stood. “If Arlan was one of your siblings, wouldn’t you do something? You did for Leah.”

  Samuel hoped this wasn’t going to turn into an argument, not tonight. “I got involved in Leah’s mess because she’s seventeen and was wrong—both morally and legally. It’s not so clear with Arlan. Who are we to decide where God wants him?” He heard Leah and Rhoda laughing and peered into the woods to see if he could spot them.

  Catherine half shrugged and gave a weak nod. “Just one more thing, on a different topic. You won’t like it, but it needs to be said. Okay?”

  He appreciated the way she accepted what he’d said about Arlan. Maybe a week apart from each other had done them both some good.

  “I know you’re not aware of this, but you’ve been flirting with Rhoda all night.”

  Samuel’s blood instantly pumped hot. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been having fun, nothing more.”

  “If you asked some of the others who are here tonight, I think they’d agree with me.”

  “If I wanted to flirt with Rhoda, which I don’t, I wouldn’t do it in front of you and family.”

  “I realize that. It’s why I said you didn’t know you were doing it.”

  He studied her, unsure of her motivation.

  She crouched to pet Hope again. “Amish tradition dictates that men and women stay separate from one another in all ways possible, even at church and certainly in the workplace. All of us know to steer clear of temptation. But you went in search of a woman to work beside. And, ya, I’m having a few problems with it.”

  His confidence in her reasoning had been undermined, and he didn’t like where that left him. “Rhoda isn’t a temptation. Now ask me if losing patience with you is one.”

  “Don’t yell at me.”

  Samuel drew a deep breath. “Oh, that wasn’t yelling. Trust me.”

  “I’m not a child. I know what I saw between you and her.”

  Samuel removed his straw hat and raked his hand through his hair. “We’ve talked about this, Catherine. You can’t take this attitude with Rhoda. We need her.”

  Her face reddened. “And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t feel. We’re not married, you know. We aren’t even engaged.”

  Hope ran back and forth, barking at them. How had their discussion taken this turn? “I’ve told you, Catherine, that I need to wait until—”

  “Save your breath.” Catherine yanked the pup’s leash. “Come on, Hope.” She looked at Samuel, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s not my fault you can’t see the truth staring you in the face.”

  As he watched her storm back to the house, he leaned against a tree. Why hadn’t he gone with Jacob, Leah, and Rhoda on the hayride? It would have been fun.

  But even if it hadn’t been, it would have been better than another argument with Catherine.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Rhoda sat in the front of the Kings’ buggy, watching the battery-powered headlights cut dim white beams into the dark night. At almost 2:00 a.m., the roads from Lancaster to Morgansville were nearly empty.

  Cool air blew into the carriage from the front windows, and Rhoda put on her sweater. But there was tension in the rig for some reason, and no outer garment could protect against that.

 
Jacob drove the carriage in silence, one hand managing the reins and one holding a bottle of water he was sipping. Samuel was in the back with Leah. Rhoda glanced at Leah, who dozed with her head on Samuel’s shoulder. Loud music boomed from somewhere, the bass vibrating the air. Rhoda guessed it came from the place where Leah had gone to that party weeks ago.

  Rhoda’s family and other Amish didn’t turn in complaints against noisy neighbors, but why didn’t the Englisch nearby call the police? A neighbor once told her Daed that they wore earplugs and kept a fan on high right beside them. Maybe most of her neighbors had their own way of tuning out—windows closed and air conditioners, fans, and televisions running.

  A young Amish woman stood on a street corner, covering her face with her hands as if she were crying.

  Rhoda touched Jacob’s arm. “Stop.”

  He did as she asked. “Why?”

  “That woman.” She pointed.

  “Where?” Jacob looked where Rhoda had directed.

  The woman lowered her hands, staring at Rhoda.

  Emma.

  “Sorry,” Rhoda mumbled. “I guess my eyes were playing tricks on me.”

  Jacob seemed confused, but he got the rig moving again and soon pulled onto her road. The headlights illuminated the fence around her berry patch. Something about the familiar sight seemed odd. She studied the place, focusing on a strange shadow in the fence. Her eyes adjusted, and she realized the dark shadow was a ten-foot hole. She gasped. Jagged wood poked out from the smooth white fencing strewn over the ground. Broken slats. Rhoda couldn’t catch her breath.

  What—or who—could have done this?

  “Stop here. Please.”

  Though they were only a few yards from her driveway, Jacob pulled the rig next to the curb. “What’s wrong?”

  Rhoda got out and ran to her garden. Under the glow of the moonlight and street lamps, she saw wide, deep-treaded tire tracks running from the road through the broken fence and into her berry patch. She couldn’t tell how far they went. “Can you point the headlights this way?”

  As if he’d anticipated her need, Jacob came to her side with a kerosene lantern. She took it from him and walked into the shadowy field. Her heart sank as the light revealed row after row of blueberry bushes, all pulled up or flattened to the ground.