Jacob returned the phone to his pocket. “Your goods are nice, but we don’t use reclaimed products. I’m sorry.”
Disappointment flitted through her eyes, but her smile said she understood. “I appreciate your time.”
He nodded and walked back to the house.
Is this all that life had to offer him in the way of relationships—needy ones that heaped guilt and responsibility onto him?
Maybe he should go to the singing this Sunday after all. At least it’d offer a few hours of fun with no one needing anything from him.
THREE
The wind howled, and the shutters on the old farmhouse quaked, but the chill of winter could not reach into the home. Or into Samuel’s heart. He glanced from the cards in his hands to the fire dancing in the hearth. The blue heelers, Ziggy and Zara, were stretched out on the floor near the fire, sleeping soundly. The logs shifted, sending sparks flying toward those sitting on the floor playing cards.
Life … It made his heart pound of late. Is this what being in love did—take the ordinary and make it feel amazing? They had a lot less pressure this winter than last. No doubt about that. After months of working from before dawn until after dark, all of them had been able to relax and enjoy the past few months. But his feelings had more to do with everyone in this room than anything on the farm.
“Guck!” Isaac’s voice screeched as he held out two jacks. Rhoda’s nephew had finally captured two jacks with one bounce of the ball. Arie squealed with delight and clapped her hands. The adults applauded from their spots on the braided rug while the children remained on the hardwood floor nearby so the ball would bounce properly.
Rhoda’s gorgeous blue eyes met Samuel’s, and his happiness stirred anew, mingling with gratitude. “I have cards to share.” She held up a thick fan of them.
“I see that, but I wouldn’t want to take your cards”—he cleared his throat, enjoying teasing her—“especially since the purpose of the game is to empty one’s hands of all of them.”
“But, Samuel, it’s Valentine’s Day, and you should do something really sweet.”
“I should. But I’m not going to.”
She laughed before frowning in mock anger.
He couldn’t help but think back to this day a year ago. Rhoda had been struggling as false accusations and lies were piling legal evidence against her. Jacob fought to keep his tarnished past from coming to light for fear it would add fuel to the lies and suspicions about Rhoda. So he had gone into hiding and had stayed there way too long, leaving Samuel to take care of his girl. While Samuel aimed to be the support she needed, he also spent his days fighting against his love for her.
It’d been his goal to hide his love from Rhoda and not betray his brother. In the long run Samuel had lost both battles.
Jacob had yet to forgive him. That weighed heavily, and Samuel prayed for his brother, but he was grateful Rhoda was here with him and able to be herself.
Rhoda’s brother Steven nudged her elbow. “Here, let me help you with your card situation.”
Her eyes grew wide as Steven eased an Uno card from his hand and laid it face up on the discard pile. It was a pick-up-four card.
“What?”
The group broke into laughter. Rhoda’s sister-in-law Phoebe stroked her rounded stomach, half laughing and half grimacing from discomfort. After losing a baby last May, Phoebe and Steven had grieved hard. Now they looked forward to welcoming another little one at the end of July.
While Rhoda picked up the four cards, Leah whispered something to Landon, who grinned at her but said nothing. Samuel recognized the looks that ran between them. If they weren’t in love, they weren’t far from it.
Was he wrong to allow Landon, an Englisch man four years older than Leah, to share game time with the King and Byler families? Samuel didn’t know. Actually, if he’d learned anything in his twenty-six years, it was just how little he actually knew. Experience offered hints and clues, and he tried to use them to figure out the truth about whatever stood before him. But little was clear. He knew Landon was a good worker, one Rhoda had trusted and relied on years before she and Samuel met. Landon was honest and determined. And he cared for Leah. A lot.
But he wasn’t Amish. That nagged at Samuel, but what was he supposed to do about it? Be controlled by his fears that Landon’s Englisch lifestyle would affect Leah’s future? Still, in the long history of the Amish in this country, he doubted any of them had allowed an Englisch man who was romantically interested in a family member to join fellowship time.
Leah tossed a piece of popcorn into Samuel’s lap. “Your turn, bro.”
“Again?” He needed to pay more attention. “Bro?” Samuel pulled the meanest card he had in his hand and laid it on the discard pile.
“Oh, Samuel,” Phoebe gasped through her giggles, “how could you?”
“What?” He looked to his left. “Leah needs more cards.”
Leah waved her two remaining cards. “Think so?”
“Definitely.” Samuel nodded.
“Then why, dear bro, did you use a pick-up-four card on Rhoda?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, but you did,”—Rhoda scowled at him, her eyes teasing and flirting as she reached in and began getting cards—“sweetie.”
She used that term when talking to the children and dogs—and to Samuel when ribbing him. So what had he done?
“Ya, sweetie, it’s okay.” Steven smirked as he leaned against the couch next to Phoebe and put his arm around her. “We don’t mind a bit if you cause Rhoda to lose. Somebody has to do it.”
“Wait.” Samuel thrust his hand over the pile. “It’s Leah’s turn.”
Phoebe opened her arms as little Arie crawled into her Mamm’s lap. “I played a reverse card. That made it go to Landon, then Leah, then you, and now Rhoda. Where were you during all that?”
“Thinking on something else.” Rhoda gathered her cards. “But I will get you for this, Samuel King.”
Landon chuckled. “Like adding four cards to your hand will make any difference in whether you win or lose.”
“True.” Rhoda nodded. “What would make a difference is if somebody helped me hold all”—the cards shot from her hands and flew in all directions—“these cards.” Her shoulders drooped, but her smile was undeniable.
Even as he tried to keep a straight face, Samuel couldn’t stifle his laugh. “Need some help?”
“Not from you.” She waggled her head from side to side.
He valued how much she’d healed since Jacob had left. It’d been a slow journey for him too, one with plenty of remorse and grief. They hated that Jacob had been hurt, but now that seven months had passed since his departure, Samuel and Rhoda could talk about everything. As enjoyable as days like this were, he knew there wouldn’t be many more this year. Prepping the orchard for springtime, with its long, hectic hours, was right around the corner.
As Samuel was helping Rhoda gather cards, Landon’s cell phone buzzed, and he reached into his pocket. He usually glanced at it and slid it back into his pocket unless his grandmother was calling. But this time his smile faded, and he held the phone out toward Samuel. “It’s the number from your family’s farm in Pennsylvania.”
Since the only phone for this place was in the barn office and they spent very little time out there when it was below freezing, Samuel had given Landon’s number to his Daed in case of an emergency. The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on Samuel. He took the phone and slid his finger across the screen. “Hallo.”
“Samuel, what’s going on up there?”
His Daed’s tone was severe, and a bad feeling washed over Samuel. “Can you hold for a few minutes and let me get elsewhere?”
“Ya.”
Samuel got up, hitting the mute button. “I need to talk to him, but apparently there isn’t an emergency.”
Leah tossed her cards onto the pile. “I’m done.”
Landon and Steven nodded and gathered the cards. Clearly, the mood wa
s broken. Samuel had fielded many more calls from his Daed lately, each one less tolerant of this new settlement than the previous call.
Leah moved from the floor to the couch. “For him to stay this riled, he must be on that Amish chat line again, hearing negative stuff about us.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “They ought to call it what it is—the Amish gossip line.”
“Leah, kumm alleweil.” Steven’s gentle correction was meant to settle her, and as the only church leader for this new settlement, his words carried weight.
While walking into the kitchen, Samuel turned off the mute. “Hey, Daed. I’m surprised you’re using Landon’s cell when there’s no emergency.”
“It might be a crisis. What’s this rumor I’ve heard about Leah seeing that Englisch assistant of Rhoda’s?”
Samuel pressed his lips together. Which of the new Amish families that had moved here over the last six months had shared that information? Apparently someone intended to end the relationship.
Samuel braced himself for another uncomfortable, difficult conversation with his Daed. It seemed to be the pattern since Jacob had left. Although his Daed apparently didn’t know what had caused Jacob to take off, he obviously blamed Samuel. He called regularly these days with a long list of grievances, including Rhoda being allowed to help make decisions about running the orchard and Samuel changing its name from Kings’ Orchard Maine to Orchard Bend Farms. His Daed would like the name even less if he knew it’d been Rhoda’s idea.
“Leah is in her rumschpringe, Daed.”
“But I let her leave Pennsylvania under your charge, and I’m not going to put up with these rumors.”
Dozens of arguments ran through Samuel’s mind. As he opened his mouth to rebut, he saw movement in the living room that caught his attention.
The three women—Rhoda, Leah, and Phoebe—had moved to the couch. Arie was sitting in Leah’s lap, and her hair had been taken down from its bun. Leah brushed Arie’s hair as the women whispered and giggled. They worked hard and loved deeply. He’d never witnessed the kind of unison they had.
Phoebe’s eyes grew wide, and she grabbed Rhoda’s hand and placed it on her stomach. Rhoda’s smile warmed his heart, and when she looked his way, he grinned. As much as Rhoda rejoiced with Phoebe over the unborn child, Samuel looked forward to the day Rhoda and he would start a family. But since he had stolen his brother’s girl, he’d have to wait until Jacob was okay with their marrying. The question was, how many years would they need to wait?
“Samuel,” his Daed growled, “are you even listening to me?”
Samuel’s mouth went dry as angst grabbed hold of him. He’d been clinging to the hope that if he handled the situation right between his Daed and Leah, he could keep all the relationships intact. Had it been a false hope?
The Amish had ways of applying constant pressure when they disagreed with someone’s behavior, and if that failed to change the person’s actions, he or she was shunned. Not officially through the church, but through mandatory actions that said you’re not welcome here anymore unless you change. How could he possibly shun Leah? Worse, how could Rhoda and Phoebe do so? But if it came to the point of shunning her and they didn’t do as told, they would be subject to the same treatment. Besides, Steven was a church leader now. He and Phoebe would have to uphold the Ordnung, or the consequences would be unbearable. Maybe Daed just needed a reminder of who was the spiritual head here.
“Steven is working with Leah, praying for her, guiding her as he sees fit.”
“He’s young, not yet thirty, and some don’t think he’s handling the Old Ways as carefully as he should. Others doubt he should’ve been chosen since his sister remains under a shadow of doing witchcraft.”
“That’s absurd. Rhoda doesn’t—”
“Save it, Samuel. I heard on the chat line that a bishop in Berks County is thinking of moving his family to your area. If he does, he’ll outrank Steven and bring the kind of order Orchard Bend Amish should’ve had all along.”
Every Amish person who’d helped establish this new settlement firmly believed in the Amish ways and culture, but they had pushed a lot of lines since arriving here sixteen months ago. Their hearts were in the right place, but sometimes the Amish rules got in the way of believers following their consciences. That’s when those on Orchard Bend Farms bent the rules, and Samuel didn’t regret doing so.
Somehow Samuel had to stop his Daed from doing anything that would cause the Old Ways to move into this home like a poisonous gas, choking the breath out of the relationships.
But how?
FOUR
While Rhoda scrubbed burned residue from a pot, she looked out the window of the harvest kitchen. Snow danced and twirled, white specks of beauty against the black sky. The white dust insulated the world from sounds, bringing such peacefulness, and she soaked in the lingering quiet.
The farmhouse sat on the same acreage as the harvest kitchen, but even without snow or night hindering one’s vision, it couldn’t be seen or heard from here. However, she knew it was loud and busy this time of day. If this winter weather continued much longer, her niece and nephew might explode with pent-up energy. But whenever Rhoda came here to work, she enjoyed the blissful silence.
A light scratch on the kitchen door made her heart quicken. That was Samuel’s knock, if one could call it that. As she grabbed a hand towel, her chest thudded with anticipation. It didn’t matter how much she relished quietness, her heart was far from silent on the topic of Samuel King.
“Kumm.” She strode across the room, smiling.
Unlike their first winter in Maine, this one had been a lot of fun. She could still hear her friends’ and family members’ shouts and laughter and see their beautiful smiles framed by red noses and pink cheeks when they went sledding or ice-skating.
The door handle jiggled but didn’t turn. Were Samuel’s gloved hands unable to open it, or were his hands full?
Just as she reached for the knob, the door swung open, and a blast of cold air blew snow inside. Samuel entered, and the sight of him—his broad shoulders and expressive brown eyes—made her wonder if he had any idea how much she loved him. They talked about most things but not this. Not yet.
Sure enough, his arms held a large covered basket. She glanced outside. He was by himself? That was odd. By his own rules he was rarely alone with her. She closed the door behind him. As he set the basket on the table, the aroma of chicken and fresh-baked bread mingled with the smell from her burned concoction.
She swiped the towel across the table where flakes of snow had landed and melted. “Hard to believe it’ll officially be spring in two days.”
“I agree.” Samuel removed his snow-covered hat and hung it on a peg. “I’m looking forward to warmer weather.” He glanced at the pendulum wall clock. “But that needs winding.”
She studied it a moment. It had been stuck on ten minutes after six for quite a while. How had she not noticed that?
He moved to the wood stove and held out his hands. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Time for you to bring me food?”
He shook his head, a trace of a smile showing despite his apparent efforts to subdue it. “If I didn’t remind you it was time to eat, how many meals would you miss?”
“Apparently none. Ever again.” Her eyes met his, and she could feel how drawn he was to her.
He returned to the table and propped his palms on the edge of the basket, still studying her. “Sustenance. It’s what’s for dinner. Now go wash your face and whatever else you like to do before you eat.”
“I’ll hurry.” She scurried up the narrow stairs that led to a small attic.
Rhoda lit a kerosene lamp and pulled the straight pins out of her apron. Despite the really rough start when they had moved to Maine seventeen months ago, she’d still choose to come here and do it all again because it had brought what now existed between Samuel and her.
Thoughts of Jacob tried to push in again, but she said ano
ther prayer for him and then refused to ponder where he was or how he was doing. She unpinned her hair and ran a brush through it. With her hair fixed, prayer Kapp in place, and a fresh apron on, she blew out the lantern and descended the stairs.
She was on the third-to-the-last step when she stopped cold. Samuel had set up what looked to be new outdoor furniture. And the worktable had been transformed into a kitchen table of sorts with two perfectly arranged place settings, a kerosene lamp, and a small cake … with lit candles.
Her birthday! Until this moment it hadn’t dawned on her. She was twenty-four.
If she could find her voice, she’d say something. Her family hadn’t celebrated birthdays since her sister had been killed on her Daed’s birthday, and Rhoda had stopped even thinking about them.
Samuel walked to her. “Now that I know when your birthday is, it’s a day I’ll always celebrate.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed hard, emotions carrying her like a snowflake on a strong wind. Her nature was to put on blinders and labor like a workhorse, but Samuel had ways of removing her blinders and causing her to pause so she could take in the beauty of life.
He motioned to her. “Kumm. Make a wish and blow out the candles before all the frosting is covered in wax.”
She drew a shaky breath and walked to a barstool. He’d thought of everything, even coffee, and she hoped he’d brought the decaffeinated kind. If not, after they cleaned up here, they’d move to the farmhouse with its many chaperones and stay up half the night talking.
Hmm. Maybe she did want caffeinated coffee after all.
At the table she paused, closed her eyes, and then blew out the candles, wishing for something silly—for this to be the last snowfall of the spring. If she really wanted something, she’d pray for it.
She opened her eyes, feeling a little awkward about all Samuel had done to honor her. Why had he spent good money to buy outdoor furniture when they had old foldup chairs? Her discomfort grew as she walked over to the all-weather wicker furniture.
Seasons of Tomorrow Page 3
