Seasons of Tomorrow

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “Was that supposed to be a smooth change of subject? And fifty degrees is not that warm.” She put her cold hands on his face.

  He gasped. “Tell me the saying is cold hands, warm heart and not cold hands, cold heart.”

  “What I’ll tell you is that you’re a good hand warmer.” She moved her still cool hands to his neck.

  Since their lives had taken such a hard hit because of his Daed, they’d become even closer and were more demonstrative with their feelings. On the one hand, he appreciated that. On the other, it only made him crazy with desire to court her, kiss her, marry her. He cleared his throat. “How about joining me for lunch?”

  She removed her hands. “Sounds good, although lunch wasn’t the usual fare. It was sandwiches and canned soup. Phoebe’s under the weather.”

  They left the barn and started across the yard. “She seemed fine this morning.”

  “It hit fast and hard. Sore throat, head congestion, and currently in bed with a fever.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You know, one of us may need to learn to cook just for such an occasion.”

  “About all I can do is scramble eggs, but you don’t care for them.”

  He turned up his lip. “You are right about that.”

  Once they were at the house, he opened the door for Rhoda, and when he stepped inside, Arie ran to him, holding up her arms. “Samuel iss Heemet!” She danced around, singing about Samuel being home.

  Rhoda turned to him. “I guess that makes me scrambled eggs in her sight.”

  He laughed while picking up Arie. “Du hungerich?”

  Arie hugged him before nodding. “Ya. Du?”

  “Ya. I’m very hungry.” He rubbed his belly and set her feet on the floor. “I need to wash up with soap.” As Samuel crossed the living room, Phoebe came down the stairs, wearing a bathrobe, her cheeks flushed.

  “Phoebe,”—Steven came out of the kitchen, a dishtowel on his shoulder—“to bed.”

  “Samuel hasn’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Steven gestured. “We’ll handle it. To bed.”

  “Did anyone get a chance to go to the grocery store with the list I made?”

  Getting to the store had become really problematic without Landon. Paying a driver to go that far was like paying for a taxi, and coordinating with a paid driver when most had full-time jobs was even harder. Camilla and her husband, Bob, refused to be paid for such trips, which meant they didn’t call her or him unless they had no other choice. Landon’s grandmother was retired and had the vehicle and time, but since they felt as if they’d run off Landon for not being Amish, they didn’t want to ask his grandmother for help.

  Steven headed for the steps. “No one has gone yet, but I’ll get Leah and Iva to do so in the next few days. They seem to enjoy that outing. Now, go to bed.”

  “Goodness, it’s just a cold.”

  “It hit so fast and hard, it may be the flu.” Steven hurried up the stairs. “To bed or to the doctor, your choice.”

  “I’m fine,” Phoebe protested as they disappeared into their suite.

  Samuel looked around. “Where’s Isaac?”

  He heard giggles from behind or under the couch.

  “No earthly idea.” Rhoda wiggled her eyebrows at Arie. Isaac understood and spoke English fairly well these days, and Arie even understood a few words and seemed to put together the rest by observation.

  Samuel saw Isaac’s fingertips reaching from under the couch. “That’s a shame, because I was thinking of us taking a buggy ride into town to get some pizza.”

  “Ich bin do!” Isaac thrust half of his body out from under the couch as he shouted I am here. But then he stopped cold, chortling and flailing his arms, obviously stuck.

  “Somebody help the boy.” Samuel lifted the couch. It felt so good to laugh. He watched Rhoda and smiled. Thank God for a woman as determined as he not to let heartache over the situation with Landon and Leah steal more of their joy than necessary.

  Rhoda lifted the thick wooden spoon to her mouth, smelling her latest batch of the new recipe. “Please be as good as you smell.” She blew on the bits of apple salsa, cooling it. She’d been in her harvest kitchen all day, working on recipe after recipe. She eased the spoon past her lips. Her mouth instantly watered as the scrumptious flavor burst on her taste buds. Finally!

  Oh, how she wished Landon were here. He’d been rejoicing with her over recipes since she was a teen. He’d tease her, saying that despite her being a horrible cook, she concocted great canning recipes.

  No one was around. Samuel was in the orchard, miles from here. Even Leah, Iva, and Crist were gone today—on another grocery-shopping trip and whatever else they were up to. They always managed to take hours longer than they should. At least it seemed to help lift Leah’s spirits a bit.

  “I did it, guys!” Rhoda’s skin tingled. She talked as if they were here, but joy bubbled up, and she knocked the oversize wooden spoon against the side of the pan, freeing it of salsa before she marched outside.

  Even out here no one was within hearing range. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone, but for now she whooped a good holler, filling the air with the shrill sound. This new apple salsa recipe with several unique herbs she’d grown herself was sure to please buyers. “I did it! Oh yes, I did!” She danced a little jig before laughing at herself.

  When only the hills echoed back at her, she wondered if she should’ve stayed at the house to work today. But Steven had banned everyone from making any noise while Phoebe rested. So she and Samuel had packed their lunches and parted ways. She’d offered to take the children with her, but Steven had said they would be fine staying with him as he worked the fields. He did, however, ask to keep the dogs with him to help the children enjoy their day while he worked. Rhoda had to admit that it was a particularly glorious spring day to be outside. Sunlight filled a cloudless, sixty-degree day.

  She returned to the stove, still smiling. Peering into the pan, she stirred it once more. “You’re tasty enough to make people who’ve never cared for or tried apple salsa to totally change their minds.”

  “Rhoda!” Samuel’s voice tore through the open windows. She scooped up a bit of salsa and took it with her as she headed for the door. She wasn’t waiting one minute longer for Samuel to taste this.

  The door flung open, and Samuel filled the entryway. “Are you okay?” He rushed to her, his brows knit as he studied her. “I heard screaming, and the two-way kept cutting out.” His breaths were short and intense. “Bleeding? Bruised?”

  What had she done? And where was her two-way? Unable to speak, she simply shook her head.

  “Oh, thank God.” He pulled her to him, embracing her as a drowning man might his next breath. “I thought …” He took her by the shoulders and backed her away from him, still scrutinizing her. His gaze met hers, and he cradled her face. He kissed her forehead and worked his way to her cheeks, each kiss becoming more intense. “Rhoda …”

  His lips found hers.

  The spoon slipped from her fingers and thudded on the wood floor. Rhoda wrapped her arms around him and forgot everything except this moment and how much she loved this man.

  When he lifted his lips from hers, he stared into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that, but I thought the worst, and I can’t imagine living without you.” His hoarse voice cracked, and his eyes misted. His strong arms held her, one hand on her back and one caressing her face.

  “I’m fine, Samuel. You heard me on the porch yelling a victory whoop.” She snuggled in closer, smiling up at him. “Although if this is the end result, you haven’t heard my last performance.”

  He took a deep breath, and everything reflected in his eyes spoke of loving her. “From where I was, I had to pass by here to get to the house, and when I saw smoke rising from the chimney, I took a chance you’d be here.” His relief faded a bit. “Right after the scream, your brother”—Samuel pulled the two-way out of his pocket—“said your name, and then the last words I could mak
e out were ‘can’t breathe’ and ‘ambulance.’ I thought you were hurt, but …” He raised his eyes from the radio to hers, and a bolt of lightning shot through her.

  “Phoebe!”

  They took off running, and by the time she was outside, Samuel had already mounted his horse. He grabbed her arm, and when he hooked his foot, she used it as a stirrup.

  “Hold on tight.” Samuel urged the horse into a full gallop, going faster than she’d ever ridden a horse, and soon the house came into sight. An ambulance sat near the front porch, and men were guiding a stretcher out of the house.

  Samuel brought the horse to a stop and helped Rhoda down before dismounting. He grabbed her hand, and they hurried toward the house. The dogs barked furiously, sounding as if they were pinned somewhere.

  “What’s wrong?” Rhoda caught a glimpse of Phoebe’s bluish skin around the breathing mask she wore. Her chest heaved, but her body was limp and her eyes closed.

  “I … I …” Steven’s eyes were huge, and he seemed dazed. “I came back with the children to check on her, and she was in the yard, trying to get to the phone. She said she couldn’t breathe and needed help, so after I got her back inside, I called an ambulance. But a few minutes later she lost consciousness.” He flailed his arms while talking as if he were a rag doll in someone’s hand. “Why couldn’t I reach either of—”

  “Sir? You going?” An EMT stood at the back of the ambulance. One was in the vehicle with Phoebe.

  “Ya.” Steven descended the steps, looking at Rhoda. “When I couldn’t reach you, I thought I was going to have to stay here, because the children can’t ride in the ambulance. Watch them.”

  “Of course.”

  Steven got in the ambulance, and one of the medics quickly closed the doors. Rhoda peered through the window “Call us.”

  Steven nodded, clutching Phoebe’s hand. The man who’d just closed the doors went to the driver’s seat and got in. As the ambulance pulled onto the road, the sirens rang out. Wherever the dogs were, they were ceaseless in their protest.

  Rhoda blinked. “The children.” She hurried into the house. “Arie! Isaac!” She turned, silently asking Samuel where they could be. Something pulled her attention to a door upstairs, and she ran up the steps, Samuel right behind her.

  Rhoda tried to open the door.

  “No! Du muscht net kumm im!”

  She mustn’t come in? “Isaac, honey, I’m here to help.” Could he think clearly enough to trust her? “Isaac, what’s wrong?”

  The lock clicked, and he opened the door less than a third of an inch and peeked out. Rhoda’s heart broke for them. She knelt. “Du allrecht?”

  He was crying, which told her that, no, he wasn’t okay. When she tried to ease open the door, he pushed back.

  “Stop!” He sounded panicked. “You don’t understand!”

  The dogs continued to howl. “Samuel, could you find the dogs and make them hush? They’re only frightening the children more.”

  He hurried off, and she turned back to the door. “Isaac, you’re safe. I promise you are. Would you let me in?”

  His tears slowed. “Daed said, ‘Lock the door and do not come out!’ ” He sobbed. “I don’t want Mamm to die.”

  Tears blurred her vision. He thought disobeying his Daed could kill his mother. “Isaac, you can trust me. Your Daed is ready for you to come out now.” It would take hours to convince him and Arie that their obedience wasn’t connected to all that had taken place over the last hour.

  The dogs finally hushed, and Rhoda whispered to Isaac in Pennsylvania Dutch, speaking the only language that really mattered—that of love, trust, and understanding.

  Isaac finally stepped back, and she eased open the door. He stood there, stoic and stiff, tears staining his cheeks. Arie rose from the corner and flew into Rhoda’s arms, weeping.

  Samuel returned, and the four of them sat on the floor as the two adults comforted the distraught children. Within twenty minutes the children were at the kitchen table, using crayons to express themselves while they talked and sipped on a favorite drink they didn’t get to have often—lemonade.

  “Samuel,”—Rhoda pulled him to the side—“do you think you could handle the children and I could slip out? I’m sure Camilla or Bob or Erlene could give me a ride to the hospital.”

  Samuel nodded. “We’ll be fine. Go.”

  He didn’t have to say it twice. She called Camilla, and within forty minutes Rhoda was walking down the halls of the hospital while Camilla parked the car. As Rhoda stepped off the elevator and onto the floor she’d been directed to, she saw something out of her peripheral vision. Chills ran down her arms, and she refused to look, but she knew …

  It was someone not really there.

  Someone wearing an Amish dress.

  She went to the waiting room and found her brother in a chair, hunched over and staring at the floor. Before she called to him, movement rustled behind him, and before Rhoda could divert her eyes, Phoebe stood before her.

  Rhoda closed her eyes. Was there a bundle in Phoebe’s arms? Stop, Rhoda. Phoebe wasn’t there. It was just her imagination. That’s all. The stress had her imagination running wild, and she hadn’t realized it until now.

  Pulling her focus from the vision, she looked at her brother. “Steven.”

  He rose and engulfed her in a hug. “It’s viral pneumonia, brought on by some strain of H1N1. They don’t know if she or the baby will make it.”

  Rhoda closed her eyes. She wouldn’t open them, would not look at the vision. She was too afraid of what she might see.

  NINETEEN

  Groceries and plastic bags rattled in the back of the wagon as Leah kept a steady eye on the horizon. Erlene’s old store was just over the next knoll, and for some reason the sight of it eased some of her heartache. Was it because she’d really enjoyed rummaging around in it with Landon a few times? Or maybe it was because the Olson family had used the building for storage, and some of the items in it were from the Great Depression. It was comforting to touch things that had once belonged to others who’d been through really tough times too.

  Crist tapped the reins against the two horses’ backs and made a tsking sound numerous times, encouraging the team to pick up speed as they approached a hill. Iva and Crist sat next to each other on the wooden bench with Leah. The two of them moved from one conversation to another like a gentle river, but Leah found it impossible to stay tuned in to the discussions. Still, getting off the farm with friends brought her a little peace.

  How could Landon have agreed to leave and not speak to her for a year? Who did that?

  Iva looped her arm through Leah’s. “Spring brings such lovely weather.”

  Did it?

  Leah pulled from her gray, cloudy thoughts and noticed the crisp air and golden sunlight. But it was like being hungry and homeless and looking through a window into a well-stocked, warm home.

  She’d brought some of this on herself by accusing Landon of caring more for his job and potential promotion than her. As rash and wrong as that had been, she’d said it in the heat of the moment. Landon should have known not to give in to her Daed’s demands … unless he was fed up with her as well as her family. Did he agree to her Daed’s terms because it gave him the out he wanted?

  She reached into her coat pocket and felt the phone he’d given her. If he’d wanted free of her, he wouldn’t have given her a phone earlier that same day. Maybe her Daed had said something to him that made him realize just how impossible it’d be to free her from her family and the Amish community. Or maybe he realized what it would mean to marry someone whose family could never embrace him and could never be part of a support system for him and Leah and their children.

  They topped the hill, and Erlene’s old store came into sight. Thoughts of past years and all the heartache people had survived came to her again, and she could feel hope for her future begin to stir.

  Crist peered around Iva. “You want to stop by it again?”


  Leah shook her head. She didn’t need to go in again. They’d gone through it once today already before going to the grocery store.

  Iva squeezed her arm. “Sure she does. During our two visits thus far, she’s yet to have time to go into the attic.” Iva lifted the camera from her lap. “And Leah wants to see the attic and take more pictures.”

  Crist chuckled. “Having trouble separating what you want, Iva, from what Leah wants? Last time we were there, I told you to go up to the attic, but, no, you were too busy staging items on the first floor for good snapshots.”

  A few weeks ago Crist would have nothing to do with Iva’s camera or her taking pictures, but now he helped her stage inanimate objects, and after she took a few shots, he looked at the LCD panel with her to see if they needed better lighting or needed to add different objects to the scene.

  Iva jabbed Crist with her elbow. “Just hush it and stop at the store.”

  “Oh, I’ll pull in at the store, but I’m not hushing. And you can’t make me.” Crist smiled as he continued prattling, and he didn’t get quiet until he’d pulled onto the driveway.

  Once he was parked, Leah did what she did best of late—moved like a snail. Iva and Crist hurried into the building while Leah meandered around outside. She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and took a few images, although she had no idea why.

  A car slowed as it passed by, and the driver, an Englisch man, craned his neck to look at her. Was that Pastor Weld? He came to a stop, put the car into reverse, and then pulled in behind the wagon. He rolled down his window. “Hi, Leah. I thought that was you. I’m actually coming from a visit to Landon’s.” He searched her eyes. “Erlene said he didn’t live there or in the area anymore. I don’t need to know anything other than are you okay?”

  Leah’s eyes filled with tears, and she shrugged. “My Daed found out I was seeing Landon, and”—she blew out a long stream of air—“that’s that … for now. Maybe for forever.”

  “I don’t want to instigate any trouble between you and your family, but if you need anything, you’re welcome to reach out to me. If you want to talk or want someone to pick you up for church, you call me.”