He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. “You won’t regret it.” He kissed her, and she hoped he was right.
She smiled up at him. “I’m not regretting it so far.” She brushed her fingertips over his lips. “Do you know who might vote nay?”
“Not yet. I’ll talk to my brothers and Daed. But I wanted to know what you thought. You still have reservations?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s a lack of confidence from losing two businesses so close together.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m sure of it too.” He winked and headed for the entry of the greenhouse. “Let’s meet where the orchard abuts the backyard in about twenty minutes, okay?”
“I’ll be there.”
Samuel held on to the crutches while scanning the ragged orchard. These trees were in better shape than his tornado-damaged ones, but it’d take a lot of time, attention, and care this coming year and whatever nutrient-enriched mulch Rhoda could conjure up to make them bear fruit again. Eighty acres. Sixty of it planted with apple trees.
Wow.
But he wanted to talk to Rhoda before he gave his answer. He’d seen her go into the first greenhouse earlier. If he had his guess, she was in one of the others by now, inspecting, trying to get a feel for whether to move to Maine.
As awkward as a man on stilts, Samuel made his way across the rutty yard. He saw a shadow inside the third greenhouse and went that way. When he entered, he saw her kneeling, looking at some old pots and feeling the soil.
“You could play in the dirt year round in a place like this.”
She glanced up. “I suppose that’s the sort of stuff my dreams are made of.”
He went closer and leaned down to catch her eye. “And I’m ready to try whatever crazy ideas you might have for mulch.”
She grinned and rose. “So I take it you found what your dreams are made of?”
At her soft laugh, something resembling the power of a tornado rattled his insides, rearranging everything he’d once known as familiar. This was what he’d come in here for—to be alone with her, to be touched by their conversation. How had he not seen it before?
How had he missed what was happening inside him?
He turned away and put some distance between them, forcing himself to ignore the ridiculous feelings sprouting like apple blossoms in spring.
She dusted the dirt off her hands. “The kitchen is quite spacious. Plenty big to host a canning business. And these greenhouses have tremendous potential.”
He swallowed, feeling his heart pound with every second that passed. Jacob would stay in Pennsylvania to rebuild the family home. Ten hours away. And Samuel would be here. With Rhoda.
He cleared his throat. “Are you willing to leave your family and your home? With no guarantees of what the future might hold?”
He wanted her to say no. Make it easy to end this now. Yet he also wanted …
What? What did he want? Why was this happening to him? His brother cared for this woman. If Jacob wasn’t in love with Rhoda yet, he was well on his way.
But it seemed Samuel was already there. He should’ve seen it, felt it, but it wasn’t how he worked. He seldom knew what he thought or felt until it just was. Like falling out of love with Catherine. He hadn’t understood it. He’d only been aware that he’d grown unable to tolerate her tears and demands. And that he didn’t want to go to her, to patch up whatever was wrong between them.
And now that he knew he was in love with Rhoda, he didn’t know how to stop himself.
She waved her hand in front of him. “Hallo?”
He lowered his eyes, trying to recall what she’d said. “Uh, ya, that’s true. Your folks can come here to visit when Jacob does. Are you sure you want to do this, Rhoda?”
Her eyes stayed glued to his face, and she frowned. Recognition flittered through her eyes. Did she know? Could she feel in him what had obviously been building for weeks?
“We should be getting back.” She started toward the door.
“Rhoda.” Why did he call to her? What could he say?
She turned. “I … I—”
Jacob knocked the door open. “Oops.” He grabbed the door. “I didn’t mean to do that. Kumm. It’s voting time.” He held out his hand to Rhoda.
She headed for him and glanced back at Samuel. He followed them out.
A light drizzle tapped on his clothes and face. The rest of the group stood in the yard, unfazed by the weather, and they crossed the yard to join them.
Jacob held Rhoda’s hand, a huge grin on his face. “Well, Rhodes? What’s your vote?”
She glanced at Samuel. “I already voiced it.” Every face peered at her, and Samuel saw the hopeful expectation. Even her father seemed to silently encourage her to say yes. “If you feel this strongly, Jacob, I’m in.”
Samuel’s Daed looked at him. “Samuel?”
Samuel glanced at Rhoda and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Look.” Leah pointed across the orchard, and the group turned. There, above the scraggly trees, hung two brilliant rainbows.
Two. He’d never seen a double rainbow.
The excited murmurs from the group weighed on him. How could he say yes when he was no longer sure this move was a good idea?
Landon shielded his eyes from the mist. “That’s nice. Sort of cheesy, but nice.”
Samuel could tell Landon didn’t understand its significance. Rhoda looked at her hand inside of Jacob’s. “For the Amish, a rainbow is a reminder of God’s promises to His people. It’s like God Himself is trying to give us a sign of what’s to come, especially as there are two.” She pulled her hand from Jacob’s and crossed her arms. “But I don’t feel that every rainbow is God giving hope for a specific decision any more than every storm is Him rearranging people’s lives. Some things are simply nature.”
Uncle Mervin beamed. “This town seems very promising to me. I’ll be happy to make a positive report to the church and to the other families who’ve expressed interest in relocating here.”
Samuel sighed. They had to try, for the future of Kings’ Orchard and what could be in the future. He faced Rhoda.
She nodded. “We can do this.”
“Attagirl.” Jacob wrapped his arms around her, lifted her up, and twirled her around. He set her feet on the ground. “This will be a great adventure. One we’ll all begin and end together.” He took Rhoda by the hand and tugged her toward Samuel. “Let’s pray.”
Rhoda came to stand beside Samuel, taking his hand in hers. He tried not to look down, to see their hands linked together. But he couldn’t help it. Any more than he could help noting how well her hand fit into his.
Shaking his head, he looked at the others. Leah took her Daed’s hand, and one by one each person took the hand of the one next to them. Together, they bowed their heads in silence.
Samuel closed his eyes. Could he get this orchard producing again? Moreover, could all of them begin and end this journey together, as Jacob had said?
Or would this new adventure, this seemingly God-approved adventure, be the biggest mistake Samuel could possibly make? He didn’t know. All he could do for now was move forward.
And pray he didn’t get in the way of what God wanted to accomplish.
DUTCH APPLE PIE
Crumb Topping
2 cups quick oats
⅔ cup flour
1 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ cup melted butter (no substitutions)
1 teaspoon salt
Mix all ingredients together and set aside.
Apple Pie Filling
6 cups apples, peeled, cored, and sliced (I use a variety including a few Granny Smith apples for best flavor.)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
¾ cup water
¾ cup sugar
1 tablespoon butter (no substitutions)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
pinch of cloves
Preheat oven to 350°. Prepare apples and place in large bowl. Sprinkle with lemon juice to prevent discoloration. Set aside.
Combine water, sugar, butter, and cornstarch in a medium saucepan. Cook until thickened. Stir in apples, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Pour into your favorite unbaked pie shell.
Sprinkle topping over apples. Bake for about 40 minutes. Remove and let cool a bit before serving. This pie is especially scrumptious when served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
Baking tip: You may use a pie crust shield or cover the rim of the pie crust with strips of foil for the first half of baking time to create a flaky crust without overbrowning.
APPLE DUMPLINGS
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon shortening
⅞ cup milk (or 1 cup scant)
1 tablespoon butter
? cup brown sugar
1½ teaspoon cinnamon
3 chopped apples
Mix flour, baking powder, and salt. Work shortening into flour mixture. Add milk. Roll dough ¼ inch thick. Spread soft or melted butter on dough. Cover dough with brown sugar, cinnamon, and apples.
Sauce:
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup sugar
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup hot water
1½ teaspoons cinnamon
Mix flour, sugar, and salt. Add hot water and cinnamon, and boil 3 minutes. Pour over dumplings. Bake at 375° for 35–45 minutes. Serve with milk or whipped cream.
RECIPES PROVIDED BY SHERRY GORE
Sherry Gore is the author of An Amish Bride’s Kitchen, the editor of Cooking and Such magazine and The Pincecraft Pauper, and a contributing writer for the national edition of The Budget. She is a member of a Beachy Amish Mennonite church and makes her home in Sarasota, Florida, with her family.
Sherry enjoys corresponding with reader friends everywhere. She can be contacted at www.SherryGoreBooks.com or via e-mail at [email protected].
Acknowledgments
To our Woodsmall family of Massachusetts
Jack and Marion Woodsmall
Thank you for your hours of time and hearts of graciousness
as I sought to understand a subject you know so well—
the tending of apple orchards.
And to your wonderful brood of grown children and spouses—
Nancy and Tony, Brenda and Todd,
Susan and Steve, John and Maura—
thank you.
You opened your hearts to us.
You made room for us in your homes.
You laid tables of feasts.
You put on your walking shoes
and showed us the land, from rolling hillsides to rocky seasides.
You hurried with us to meet trains, buses, and shuttles.
You never hesitated to spend your energy and bless our time.
You showed us our Woodsmall heritage, which is rich indeed.
Moreover, you showed us your hearts, which are richer by far.
And we’ll always remember …
And to my Old Order Amish friends,
who know my main character all too well
and wish to remain anonymous—
thank you for all your help!
To everyone at WaterBrook Multnomah,
from marketing to sales to production to editorial—
you are the BEST!
Glossary
Daadi—grandfather
Daadi Haus—grandfather’s house. Generally this refers to a house that is attached to or is near the main house and belongs to a grandparent. Many times the main house belonged to the grandparents when they were raising their family. The main house is usually passed down to a son, who takes over the responsibilities his parents once had. The grandparents then move into the smaller place and usually have fewer responsibilities.
Daed—dad or father (pronounced “dat”)
denki—thank you
Die Botschaft—An Amish newspaper, meaning “the message”
Englisch/Englischer—a non-Amish person
gut—good
hallo—hello
Kapp—a prayer covering or cap
kumm—come
Mamm—mom or mother
Mammi—grandmother
nee—no
Ordnung—means “order,” and it was once the written and unwritten rules the Amish live by. The Ordnung is now often considered the unwritten rules.
Pennsylvania Dutch—Pennsylvania German. Dutch in this phrase has nothing to do with the Netherlands. The original word was Deutsch, which means “German.” The Amish speak some High German (used in church services) and Pennsylvania German (Pennsylvania Dutch), and after a certain age, they are taught English.
Plain—refers to the Amish and certain sects of Mennonites
rumschpringe—running around. The true purpose of the rumschpringe is threefold: give freedom for an Amish young person to find an Amish mate; to give extra freedoms during the young adult years so each person can decide whether to join the faith; to provide a bridge between childhood and adulthood.
ya—yes
Pennsylvania Dutch phrases used
in A Season for Tending
Du duh net verschteh.—You do not understand.
Bischt allrecht?—Are you all right?
Duh net schtobbe.—Do not stop.
Du rei do?—You in here?
Es iss wunderbaar gut.—It is wonderful good.
Gern gschehne.—You’re welcome.
Guder Marye.—Good morning.
In paar Minudde.—In a minute.
Wie bischt du Heit?—How are you today?
* Glossary taken from Eugene S. Stine, Pennsylvania German Dictionary (Birdsboro, PA: Pennsylvania German Society, 1996), and the usage confirmed by an instructor of the Pennsylvania Dutch language.
About the Author
CINDY WOODSMALL is a New York Times best-selling author with ten works of fiction and one of nonfiction. Her connection with the Amish community has been featured widely in national media, including ABC Nightline, the front page of the Wall Street Journal, and National Geographic. A mother of three sons, two daughters-in-law, and one granddaughter, Cindy lives outside Atlanta with her husband of thirty-five years.
A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series Page 34
