For Every Season

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For Every Season Page 11

by Cindy Woodsmall


  “It might cause her to ask a hundred questions.”

  “So?”

  She shrugged. “And then she’s likely to turn me down. Besides, I’m not used to being straightforward with my parents. Being sneaky or keeping my mouth shut is more my style with them.”

  “It sounds like maybe you don’t really want a license.”

  “Are you giving up before we even try?”

  “You’re the one who doesn’t want to answer a few probing, uncomfortable questions from your mom.” He leaned into her shoulder. “Decide whether you’re willing to pursue and pay the price for what you want. It seems to be what life is all about.” He straightened. “I don’t want to be the one talking you into or out of anything. You know?”

  She was beginning to, and she liked the sense of trust he had in her. It was her life, her decisions, and he was there for moral support only. “You make it sound like talking to Mamm will be easy. But she’ll believe I’m entering into sin to want a license. The thought of it will break her heart.”

  “Sounds like her idea of what constitutes sin is off the mark.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’m not. Back in the day when my granny was a young woman, good manners and skilled social behavior were equal to godliness, and the lack of it was considered a sin. In her mother’s day, using one’s imagination was looked down on. To daydream was considered a sin. Does God really judge someone based on table manners or an inventive mind? Or for wanting to get a driver’s license?”

  Her heart suddenly felt as light as a helium balloon bouncing toward the sky as someone held tight to the tether. But she still didn’t want to upset her Mamm. Just the thought of hurting her made Leah cringe. “Is there another way to get a birth certificate?”

  “Maybe. Each state has centralized offices where a copy can be ordered, but that’s only going to work if the midwife recorded your birth with the state.”

  “Let’s check that out first.” She shrugged. “That would make it easier to sidestep Mamm knowing what I’m really like.”

  His eyes fixed on her until he bent and picked up a rock. “You don’t believe she likes you.”

  How had he nailed the way she felt so squarely? “It’s my fault. I was born into a home with lots and lots of rules, and I didn’t keep them. My parents love me, but their ability to like me is thin at best.”

  He didn’t move for several moments. “If that’s true, it’s really sad. And it’s their loss.” He threw the rock across the road. “Is that how they feel about Jacob? He’s a rule breaker too.”

  “It’s different for guys. Parents expect them to be rowdy, and if they’re a little less unruly than they could be, parents are pleased. Samuel stepped into my grandfather’s shoes, loving the orchard from the time he was young, and they couldn’t be more proud of who he is. Jacob loved carpentry, and although his leaving home to move to our uncle’s bothered them, they were always pleased with his ability to build homes. My specialty was sarcastic wit and hiding in the hayloft to read novels. Mamm and Daed never really liked anything about me.”

  “Sarcastic wit is an art, best used on anyone except yours truly. And it seems to me most parents would be thrilled for their children to love reading. Mine were. As a kid, I could pick up TV Guide, and they’d get all twitterpated.”

  She laughed. “Get what?”

  “I’m not telling, but the next movie on our list is Bambi.” He picked up a rock and held it out to her. “It helps to lob a rock as far as you can. Try it.”

  Her insides quaked from talking about her parents. Did Landon know that? “I may not do anything about getting a license for a while yet.” She took the stone from him. “If I cause a fuss with my parents, it could alter what I can and can’t do here in Maine. It’s nice to have no one balking at me coming here or slipping away on Sunday nights.”

  “There’s no pressure from me. If you want a license, I’ll help you. If you never want a license, I’m sure my truck will be the safer for it.” His chuckle warmed her insides.

  He was too good to be true. She threw the rock as far as she could, and it barely made it to the edge of the road. But he was right; it did make her feel better. She grabbed another one and tossed it. It landed a few feet from the truck.

  Landon chortled. “What was that?”

  She tugged on his coat sleeve. “Our cue that it’s time to make those cookies for tomorrow night.”

  “You do remember that it’s also a church Sunday for you. The Amish church day will barely be over by the time you need to slip out the back door to go to Unity Hill.”

  “It’s their special music night. I’m not missing that if I have to walk there.”

  He grinned. “You love that part most of all, don’t you?”

  “Does a horse have a tail?” She headed for the front door.

  He followed her. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “A team of wild horses could not drag that answer out of me.”

  “What?”

  “You heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

  “If I’d let you drive my truck, could I have been spared all these horse sayings?”

  “We’ll never know, will we?”

  Growing up Amish had limited Leah’s choices in everything from hairstyles to clothing to education and beyond. But if she wanted it, Landon was willing to open the world to her.

  Maybe she should jump at the chance to get a license, but right now she was content just knowing the door to her future was unlocked.

  TWELVE

  Night fell, and the horse’s hoofs beat a steady, endearing pace in Rhoda’s ear as the buggy jostled them down the empty road. Jacob held the reins loosely as he drove the rig. They’d had a wonderful Sunday evening thus far, and the awkwardness between them continued to melt. She had to admit, buggy rides with her beau were precious. “I thought Steven did a good job preaching the sermon today.”

  “Ya.”

  They’d had a perfect date night—board games and a walk in the orchard. Then they’d begun this carriage outing a couple of hours ago. He’d told dozens of jokes throughout their time together. But now he was really quiet. Had she done or said something that had offended or hurt him? “Did you have a favorite part of the sermon?”

  “Not really. Seems like he could add a little humor.” He slowed the rig as they came to a stop sign. “While he was talking about Adam and Eve, I thought of a joke I heard once. Adam was lonely, so God said He’d give him a companion, one who would cook and agree with every decision he made and bear children. Adam asked what the woman would cost, and God said an arm and a leg. So Adam asked what he could get for a rib.”

  She chuckled, but her mind was busy trying to piece together more of the puzzle that was Jacob King. “Maybe you could give him some pointers on how to lace his sermons with some laughter.”

  “I doubt he needs me offering tips about preaching.” Jacob clicked his tongue, and the horse went through the intersection.

  Despite the joke, his countenance seemed heavy. She slid across the seat, closing the space between them. “Jacob?” She caressed his jaw line. “Talk to me.” She kissed his cheek. “Please.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Sorry. Sometimes the subject of God is an uncomfortable one.” Lines in his handsome face constricted. “Most of the time, I guess.”

  “Why?”

  “Ever heard this one? A father was at the beach with his children when his four-year-old son grabbed his hand and led him to the shore where a sea gull lay dead in the sand. ‘Daddy, what happened to him?’ the boy asked. The dad replied, ‘He died and went to heaven.’ The boy thought for a moment and then said, ‘Did God throw him back down?’ ”

  She couldn’t help but laugh even though the joke didn’t seem to be in line with their conversation.

  Jacob turned onto another road, making his way toward the Cranfords’. “I haven’t been able to really pray in years. I’ve fel
t as if God would throw me back down, breaking my bones and killing me in the process.”

  “Oh …” Her heart broke for him. “He wouldn’t. You know that, right?”

  He nodded. But that was a brush-off. How many times did he brush her off without her realizing it? Getting him to open up was never easy, but when he did talk candidly, it strengthened them.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “I need you to talk to me.”

  He drew a deep breath. “I’ve been a fool, Rhodes. An idiot. No one is saying it, and it hurts to admit it aloud, but you and everyone else at the farm know it’s true.”

  “Nobody says that, because nobody is thinking that. You made some bad decisions as a teenager, and then Sandra lied for years in order to manipulate you.”

  He pulled into the Cranfords’ driveway and drew the rig to a stop. “I appreciate you saying that. It helps. But I walked into that mess wanting to be a hero. Blaine needed supplies to finish building a few homes so they could go to closing and not breach any of the contracts. I figured out a solution, and even after I learned what I was doing wasn’t legal, I kept on doing it. I tuned out every warning, and when I feared I would go to jail, I used my Amish roots to hide behind.”

  “You cared about your friends and tried to help. If that’s wanting to be a hero, then we’re all guilty of it.”

  “But they weren’t friends, were they? Blaine was using me and my ignorance to cheat and steal from the construction company. As it turned out, the owner of the company and even Sandra were in on it. I keep asking myself over and over, why am I letting her stay in my life?”

  “You must have at least one reason.”

  He closed his eyes. “Casey. The night she was born, when Sandra put her in my arms, I felt so sure she had a wonderful destiny, a good, productive future that others will draw from—if only she could reach adulthood strong enough to carry it out. Sandra loves her, but she struggles with bipolar issues and needs some kind of stabilizing force. For better or worse, that’s what I am to her.”

  Rhoda snuggled against him. He hadn’t told her that Sandra was bipolar. “That’s plenty to know. And you’re right. Casey needs you to be involved in her life.”

  He shifted, gazing into her face. “Do you really believe that?”

  “You mean like when I knew your home was going to be destroyed by that tornado? No, not like that. I know it because you know it, and I trust you.”

  His blank stare eased into a grin. “Knowing all you know now, you still trust my judgment?”

  “Absolutely. Although some of your corny jokes do make me wonder about you.”

  He tilted her chin and stared into her eyes. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to be that for you too.”

  “You are.”

  He smiled before kissing her lips. It was more like a peck, really, but it was genuine, and she was grateful for it.

  She tugged on his coat. “It’s only around eight. Why don’t you come inside for a bit? Camilla’s said you’re welcome any time.”

  “Not tonight. I’d like to spend a little time alone with God.”

  Joy had her heart thudding. Oh, how she longed for him to be whole, with no blockades of guilt between him and God—and no dark secrets between him and her.

  He set the brake. “Maybe He will appreciate my jokes.”

  “I think He’s heard them already.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Once out of the rig and at the Cranfords’ front door, she waved to Jacob as he drove away.

  She tiptoed inside, expecting Bob and Camilla to be retired to their bedroom, either sleeping or watching television, but she noticed the living room lights were on. She passed her bedroom and went to speak to whoever was still up.

  Camilla was in a wingback chair, smiling and talking. Bob was near her, and both were engaged in a conversation with someone Rhoda couldn’t see. Bob was laughing and talking at the same time, relaying a story of some kind. She’d never heard him like this before. Maybe she should go on to bed since they had company.

  Camilla spotted her. “Rhoda, dear.” She gestured. “We were waiting for you.”

  “We?”

  She stepped into the room, and fear shot through her. Samuel! She glanced behind her, making sure Jacob hadn’t changed his mind about coming in. He wouldn’t like his brother walking to the Cranfords’ to see her. “What are you doing here?” She hoped she sounded polite enough since Bob and Camilla were in the room.

  He rose. “We need to talk.”

  There was a cup and saucer on the end table beside him. He’d been here long enough to share at least one cup of coffee with the Cranfords. “Something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “Maybe. I wasn’t sure.”

  Camilla got up. “We’ll give you two a few minutes, unless that’s not enough and we should say good night now.”

  Rhoda’s nerves were on edge. She didn’t want to be alone with Samuel for one moment longer than necessary in case Jacob did return. “No, I’m sure we only need a few minutes.”

  Bob grinned. “Good. Samuel and I have been discussing the many ways one can fish in Maine.”

  While Bob and Camilla disappeared into the kitchen, Rhoda removed her coat. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “If Jacob finds out I’m here, he’ll blame me, not you.”

  She hung her jacket on the coatrack. “That’s no consolation. Is it supposed to be?” She was doing her best not to come between the brothers. They had been every bit as close as she and Emma. When she turned back toward Samuel, she saw Emma behind him.

  Samuel looked over his shoulder. Apparently he’d read her face. Did he have any idea what she saw time and again? Would he think she was crazy? She shook off the vision.

  “What’s going on, Samuel?”

  He gestured toward the couch, and Rhoda sat down.

  Samuel leaned forward in the wingback chair next to her. “Your Daed called about ninety minutes ago.”

  “What’s wrong?” She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, but she’d written. Letters kept her from slipping up and revealing more than she intended and also kept her Daed from hearing any uncomfortable tone or stress in her voice. He’d written to her too.

  “Your Uncle James is in the hospital. He had a heart attack Saturday afternoon. When your Daed was called yesterday, they thought he might not make it—”

  Her heart raced. “How is he?”

  “There’s only good news.”

  Relief eased through her, and she was glad Samuel had chosen to come to the house rather than call. It wasn’t his words that brought her comfort as much as seeing in his eyes that he believed what he said.

  Samuel sat back in his chair. “He’s doing a lot better today than yesterday, so your Daed was glad about that. The doctors are going to do some kind of procedure and put him on medications. Both will help prevent him from having another heart attack, and he’s expected to make a full recovery.”

  “Gut. I’m happy to hear it. My Daed and Uncle James are very close.”

  “As were you and your Daed. When you and I met, you were as close to him as any daughter I’ve ever seen. Don’t you need to regain that?”

  She wanted to. It just wasn’t that simple. Since the day she’d left Pennsylvania, she’d had Jacob’s secrets to hide. But she didn’t appreciate Samuel questioning her about it, especially on the heels of the news he’d brought. “Is that why you came here? To correct me?”

  Disbelief and frustration registered on his face. “I’m going to spare us an argument by ignoring that.” He intertwined his fingers and let out a slow sigh. “There’s one more thing. Your Daed phoned last night while you were out with Jacob, and he knows you’re living here. He sounded hurt that you hadn’t told him.”

  “What? How?”

  “Iva didn’t know it was a secret.”

  Rhoda was sick of the word secret. “Iva didn’t need to know. We told her not to answer the phone.
So why did she?”

  “I asked her that, only more gently. She said she was in the office yesterday, and the phone kept ringing. He was ending his calls before the answering machine could pick up, and then he would call back. She thought it was an emergency.”

  “And clearly it was, but then she forgot to tell anyone?”

  “He didn’t mention your uncle to her. Your Daed simply told her to have you call him. She left a message on the desk, and she intended to tell Jacob when he arrived home, but he came in late, and she was asleep. Then today, with it being a church Sunday, no one went to the office, and Iva didn’t think to relay it. When your Daed didn’t hear from you, he tried again. This time I was in the barn feeding the livestock, so I picked up.”

  “I’ll call my Daed before going to bed.”

  Samuel propped his chin on his fist. “When you started working with us in Harvest Mills, you called him every day and had Landon take you home every Saturday afternoon. Since we moved here, you rarely call him, you refuse to let him come because he’d find out that Jacob went into hiding, and now he learns you’ve moved out. Have you talked to Jacob about how his situation is affecting your relationship with your Daed?”

  “No, and you won’t either. He’s dealing with all he can, and he’s doing what’s needed to get his problems straight. What more do you want from—”

  Camilla returned to the living room with a pot of coffee in one hand and an empty cup and saucer in the other. “It’s decaf.” She held up the pot. Samuel lifted his cup from the side table and moved to Camilla.

  “Thank you.” He went to the couch and sat beside Rhoda. Why had he done that?

  Camilla poured coffee into the empty cup. “I put a bit of sugar and cream in it for you.”

  Rhoda eased it from Camilla’s hand. “Thank you.” She picked up the spoon that lay on the saucer.

  Camilla removed the dishcloth from her shoulder and laid it on the coffee table before setting the carafe on it. “I’d just pulled a cake out of the oven when Samuel arrived. It’s cool enough now to frost. If you’ll give us a few minutes to make the frosting and put the layers together, I’d love to share it with you.”

 

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