Did Rhoda hear a horse and buggy on the road? A desire to look outside drew her, and without really thinking about it, she went to a window facing the road. She couldn’t see the road for the fog, but that didn’t stop her from going to the window on the other side of the room. She peered at the woods.
She saw movement through the gray mist. Slowly someone moved in closer.
Samuel.
He was several yards from the house. Emotions as strong and raw as a nor’easter pushed and prodded her. Anger was the strongest, but hope was a close second. Did he have news for her that Jacob was willing to see her? Maybe he knew what she could do to set things right with Jacob.
Samuel attached something to a tree.
“What’s he doing?”
Camilla came to the window. “Flagging the trees, best I can tell. I’d say he doesn’t intend for you to get lost again.”
“Why wait to do that until I’ve been here for two weeks?”
“No idea.”
Samuel turned and retreated toward the farm. Was he not coming to Camilla’s door? Would he travel the long distance through the woods and then leave without speaking to her? Anger swelled. “I ought to ignore him.” But she had to talk to him while there was no chance of Jacob seeing her. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Rhoda dashed out of the room. She grabbed her coat off the rack and opened the back door.
“You have nothing on your feet.”
Rhoda paused. “What?”
“Your feet.”
Rhoda looked down. “Oh.”
“There’s a pair of galoshes.” Camilla pointed to a corner.
Rhoda quickly slipped her feet in them and slammed the door on her way out, cringing that in her rush she was being careless. Hopefully she hadn’t just awakened Bob.
“Samuel!” He didn’t stop but continued walking toward the farm. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled with all her might. “Samuel King!”
He turned, looking surprised—and maybe apologetic—as he hurried toward her. “What are you doing out here dressed like that?”
She realized her hair was down and her head was uncovered. “You haven’t said a word to me in two weeks, and that’s all you’ve got on your mind? Why would you come so close to the house without at least trying to speak with me?”
“Is that what you want? To talk? To me?” His brown eyes bore into her. “Kumm on, Rhoda. You brushed me off without even a pause of doubt.”
A shadowy figure seemed to step out from behind him, and Rhoda thought of her late sister. It only caused more frustration. Sometimes she’d like to banish all thoughts of both of them.
“I had no idea you felt anything for me other than friendship and partnership. Then you pulled me into your arms. And without asking permission, I might add. How could you turn around and tell Jacob what had happened? I begged you not to. But you did it anyway, and then you sauntered off with Nicole?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! What does Nicole have to do with anything?”
“It’s insulting! Amish women have no choice but to all dress alike, in layers of pleated clothes, with our hair pulled back. And then Nicole shows up in jeans with her shiny hair hanging down her back, and you go after her. Intertwining your life with Nicole’s isn’t like Leah seeing an outsider. She hasn’t joined the faith. You have. And if you’re not careful, you’ll destroy the reputation of this settlement and take the business with you.”
“I’m sick of your issues with Nicole. I needed her skill in order to install solar panels. But you want her off the property? It’s done.” He snapped his fingers. “But I’m not the one who holds the power to ruin the business. Jacob has that—and apparently every woman he comes into contact with—in the palm of his hand. Why didn’t you tell him the incident was all me? It was! We both know it. I owned up to it, but you wavered. Why not tell him the truth?”
Rhoda shook all over, trembling like a woman freezing to death. But it was his question, not the temperature, that rattled her. “I can’t believe this. You of all people are blaming me? Do you have any idea how frustrating it is that you messed up my life, and then you go on with yours as if nothing happened? And to add insult to injury, you avoid me as if I have the plague.”
“Try joining the real world, the one where you understand why I’m avoiding you.”
And suddenly she did know. He was avoiding her for the same reason she was avoiding him—to keep Jacob from having any reason to be more upset with them.
Despite the flagging and Camilla’s explanation of what he was doing, she wanted Samuel’s answer. “Then why are you here?”
He motioned at the flagging around the tree. “You’re arriving late some mornings, and—”
“I’m what?” She looked through the woods, seeing flagging every ten or so feet until the forest became a blur of trees. “How would you know? You’re as absent lately as Jacob was when he was away.”
But she could see it in Samuel’s eyes. He wasn’t absent. Somehow he knew when she arrived and when she left. Her heart pounded. She’d been confident that he had pulled her into his arms as a momentary temptation brought on through loneliness more than any real feelings.
Was that not accurate?
He tightened his hat onto his head. “Has Jacob said anything to you since that day?”
“No. Not yet. When I saw you, I’d hoped you were bringing word that he wanted to talk.”
“Even if he were ready, he wouldn’t tell me. He’s got nothing for me but anger. I know some of his hostility is because he’s mortified. Even after realizing I’d kissed you, he confessed that you mean the world to him in front of both of us.”
Samuel’s brown eyes told her much more than he ever would. Jacob wasn’t the only one mortified. It was as if the earth trembled under her feet at everything Samuel felt.
Anger drained as so many things about this man—things that hadn’t added up since the day they came to Maine to view the property—began to unfold. She used to complain, “I don’t understand you.” And time after time he assured her she didn’t need to. In her quiet time with God, He seemed to confirm that Samuel had a right to remain a mystery. Samuel had been back-pedaling from her for quite a while, hiding so much of his true self. He was considerate but closed off. Giving yet hiding his actions. A constant support but emotionally distant. He made sense now, and she couldn’t help but admire him for what he’d tried to do—fill in for Jacob while keeping her at arm’s length.
All his efforts were dishonored in one heated moment.
Should one mistake between friends or brothers define forever who they were to each other?
She reached for Samuel’s hand. “Samuel—”
A snapping noise made her turn.
Jacob stood only twenty feet away, staring at her.
FIVE
With the light from a lone candle guiding her, Iva quietly got on her knees and reached into the crawlspace behind the wall of her closet. She tugged on the straps of the carrying case that held her camera, easing it from its hiding place. Most who lived under this roof were asleep.
She came out of the closet on her hands and knees, candle clasped between her thumb and index finger.
“I can’t believe you still have your camera.” Her sister Minnie took the candle and set it on a nightstand.
Iva stood, dusting dirt off her dress. She could hardly breathe for the discomfort filling the space between them. Her sister had disagreed with her buying it in the first place, and Iva had dared to hide it while their father sold piece after piece of their household to buy food. But she’d earned the money for it back when jobs weren’t so scarce, and she’d rather go without food than her camera. “Do you think it’s already daylight in Maine?” Time to get her sister focused on something else.
“Probably.” Minnie rolled up a pair of black stockings and tucked them into Iva’s hand-me-down suitcase.
Iva dusted off the top of the camera case. “I read that they’re about seven hundred miles f
arther east than we are. Same time zone, though.”
Minnie slid a stack of underwear into the bag. “I’ve … I’ve been thinking. Maybe me and Mamm are wrong, and this is a foolish plan.”
Iva ignored the icy fingers of fear. What could be worse than staying here?
“Piffle.” She looked inside the camera case just to make sure it was all still there—the camera and lenses and all the paraphernalia she’d spent years buying. She zipped it again, double-checking each compartment on the bag.
Minnie blinked, looking curious and a bit hurt. “What?”
Their quiet voices were only for each other as the rest of the household slept.
“You heard me. Would you prefer a different word? How about horseshoes, malarkey, hooey, baloney, or hogwash?”
“I know what you said, but why?”
“Because you’re saying you’ve changed your mind while you’re packing my bag.” As if it mattered what Minnie or Iva wanted. Mamm had come to Iva privately, shimmying with fear like a pond during a windstorm. She needed Iva to do this. The family was desperate. Iva had been a disappointment in more ways than she could bear to think of but not this time. Not again.
Minnie jerked an armful of clothes out of the bag and threw them onto the bed. They had ironed and folded everything before dinner. But Iva understood her sister’s feelings were every bit as raw and torn as her own.
Iva moved closer and placed a hand on her sister’s protruding belly, talking to the unborn one. “Your Mamm is a bit wishy-washy these days. All plans. No backbone to carry them out. She didn’t used to be like this.” Minnie was as nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but years ago she would have gone into that room anyway.
Now the changes within the Indiana Amish community had all of them wavering on what to do and clamoring for answers.
Minnie placed her hand over Iva’s. “What if you travel all that way and they don’t want you there?”
“I don’t know.”
It was all too much. The economy. The toll on the men’s self-esteem. The fear that after getting through the worst of the downturn by her siblings selling their homes and moving in together, her family still might lose the house she’d grown up in. The house now shared by four families.
According to her Daed, it was fixable by what he called “a godsend of a man.” His real name was Leon Schwartz, and he was a kind and good widower with young children who needed a Mamm. But Iva couldn’t imagine having to hold hands with him, let alone what her Daed had in mind—marrying him and having his children.
Iva looked into her sister’s eyes. “Mamm’s been putting back a little from the food money for almost two years, the whole time hoping God would show her the best thing to do with it. She thinks this is it, and I’m going.” Iva got the last items out of the drawer and tossed them and the rest of her messy clothes into the suitcase.
“Daed will be furious when he realizes you’re gone, and I doubt Mamm will be able to hide what she’s done.”
“He’ll only be upset because of how it will look to others. Inwardly he’ll be glad to have one less mouth to feed. Your husband will be secretly glad I’ve taken the lead to do what he can’t—go see if the Maine settlement is a good place to take your family.”
“It’s not your responsibility to have to go to another part of the country to look for work.”
“That’s not Mamm’s only reason for getting me out of here, and you know it.”
“You’re sure that going that far and into the unknown by yourself is necessary?”
“Ya.” Iva looked out the window. “My ride’s here.”
A car sat idling at the end of the lane, hazard lights flashing to let her know she needed to scamper down the driveway.
“You’ll call as soon as you’re there and safe, ya?”
“I’ll do my best. But don’t worry.” Iva slid the strap of her camera bag over her shoulder before she grabbed her tripod with one hand and the suitcase with the other.
Minnie eased open the door. Then she took the tripod and walked down the stairs with her, not saying a word until they were on the gravel lane.
Iva looked back at the house. Mamm stood at her bedroom window, quietly bidding Iva a final good-bye. Iva blew her a kiss and waved.
Minnie sighed. “You have her believing you like this plan.”
“What would you have me do? Heap guilt on top of her fears?”
They finished walking in silence.
If only the hard times would disappear, she could stay here where life felt safe and familiar. But that was childish thinking. Adults were equipped to think in terms of attainable goals. Her goal was to find a place with jobs for her family, preferably where the employers would be more likely to hire Amish rather than others. If nothing else, she had to work there long enough to get sufficient money to come home. The girl she talked to on the phone, Leah, didn’t sound extremely confident about Iva being hired, but she did give permission for her to come. Once there, Iva would do her best to make herself indispensable. Maybe they’d let her sleep on the couch or something.
“If you’d marry …” Minnie dropped her sentence.
“What, Minnie? What would happen if I married Leon as Daed wants me to? Leon would save us from our financial troubles, and it would cost no one anything, except me. And Leon. We both deserve better.”
“He loves you.”
Her insides knotted. “Maybe. He’s a good man.” That’s all she had to say on the matter, but love wasn’t the same as need, and Leon was so lonely. She understood, and he would have given all he had, which was a lot, to help her family if she would marry him.
What was love anyway? Was it as simple as one person meeting the other’s needs in a way that made them feel better about themselves and life? If so, that wasn’t good enough.
But it wasn’t her refusal to marry Leon that had moved Mamm to ask her to go to Maine. No one else was open to the idea of venturing into any new territory, so Mamm was circumventing the men’s objections by quietly sending Iva. Should she admire Mamm for her courage or pity her for feeling so desperate she’d go behind the men’s backs?
When they arrived at the car, she put her stuff in the backseat and closed the door. “Minnie, I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” But Iva’s insides were quaking enough for both of them. “I don’t think God puts us on this huge earth so we can be afraid of stepping into the unknown. Isn’t tomorrow an unknown even if we all stay right here where tradition is kept and every piece of ground is familiar?”
“And if you and Mamm are wrong?”
“Then I will ask God to forgive me.”
Minnie hugged her. “Do be careful.”
“I promise.” Iva got into the car and waved as the driver pulled off.
Jacob had barely stepped out of the rig when he’d heard Rhoda’s voice, yelling for Samuel. So he’d eased around the side of the house, and by the time Samuel had finished tromping back to where Rhoda stood, Jacob could hear everything they said and not be seen. Maybe he was a jerk to eavesdrop, but he had to know where Rhoda’s heart was. He would never play the fool for another woman, not even for one he loved with his whole heart.
“Interesting, isn’t it? We’re in another state, and months have passed, but we’ve been in this situation many times—where I find you two because of the yelling.”
He wasn’t sure if his goal was to add a little humor or simply have an opening line. Either way, Rhoda didn’t move toward him or say anything.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. He also had never seen her without her hair pinned up and under a prayer Kapp.
Lately, Jacob didn’t know what to think of her. Or himself. Or Samuel.
Her eyes searched his, and as if realizing where his attention was, she ran her fingers across her head. She gasped and pulled a white knit scarf out of her coat pocket, but it fluttered to the ground. He grabbed it and held it out to her.
“De
nki,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she took it and put it on. For a brief moment he didn’t care what had kept them apart since he’d returned. He wanted only one thing: Rhoda. Even if she cared nothing for Samuel, could he and Rhoda ever have what they once had—new, fresh, innocent love?
He gestured toward the driveway at the front of the house. “I brought a rig for you. I thought maybe we’d go for a ride and talk.”
A faint smile curved her lips. “I’d like that.”
But he needed to know something first. “Samuel asked a question you didn’t answer.”
Her brows tightened. “When?”
Jacob pointed to the side of the house, where he’d been standing. “I got here about the same time as Samuel.”
She nodded, and he imagined she was trying to remember all that had been said. “And?”
“If it was all Samuel’s doing, why didn’t you just say that when I asked?”
Rhoda slid her hands into her coat pockets. “All three of us have to take responsibility for what happened. I grew careless, willing to get physically close without thinking what Samuel might be feeling. And we are close, Jacob. That’s the responsibility you need to take. You weren’t here when I needed you the most. You didn’t call or write. I had no way to reach you, and I spent months needing to share my burdens with someone. Then elation came when the drug investigation was over and the allegations were dropped. From the moment I got the news, you didn’t have to hide for my sake, not for one hour longer, but I still didn’t hear from you for a week. And that hurt. It really hurt.”
Jacob drew a deep breath. He needed a few moments to gain perspective before speaking. Her soft-spoken complaints stung.
When she was cleared, Jacob had written to her. Maybe he should’ve called. In their earlier phone conversations, like when he had to leave over Christmastime to help Sandra, Rhoda had sounded sad and lonely, and a call would have stolen their thunder of celebrating in person. But she never got his letter, and when he mentioned sending it, she’d thrown a bitter doubt in his lap. She probably didn’t remember half of what she’d said to him the day he came home and unearthed that she and Samuel had kissed. But the only thing that mattered at this point was how she felt now. If the last two weeks of living away from the farm had done nothing else, it should have given clarity to her mind and heart.
For Every Season Page 5
