Seasons of Tomorrow

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Seasons of Tomorrow Page 32

by Cindy Woodsmall


  “I agree.” Steven nodded. “And with all he’s done and how much the Amish respect him because of it—”

  “They do?” Landon blinked.

  “Ya. They’re not sure how to act around you, so they avoid you, but I think your returning to the farm is a winnable battle now. Since you left the farm and kept your word about not calling Leah, and have been by my side every free minute, and have toted the Amish around as you’ve done, I just don’t think your returning to the farm can cause a rift between Amish districts.”

  The sense of being welcomed lasted only a few moments before it faded. Were they inviting him back because there was no chance Leah would want to be with him? Had she fallen out of love with him completely in the three months he’d been gone from Maine?

  But that aside, he could see they were welcoming him. “Thanks. Really.” He stood. “I should probably get to NICU a few minutes early.”

  Rhoda followed him out of ICU, and when they went through the unit’s double-wide doors, she stepped in front of him. “You’re disappointed in us.”

  Landon stopped and leaned against a wall. “This offer would’ve meant more had it come months ago.”

  “I know. I wish I’d realized then that my concerns were founded in fear and that I needed to fight against them, not mollycoddle them and use them to try to control the situation. But I didn’t, and we needed time to think and to be sure what was right.”

  “And are you sure?”

  “As certain as one can be about anything.”

  “And Leah?”

  Rhoda gestured down the hall, and Landon turned. His heart leaped as much with excitement as with hurt. She was heading their way

  “Landon,”—Rhoda pulled his attention back to her—“she doesn’t know how we feel, in part because we’ve known for only a few days, and in part because it seemed fair to tell you first.” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t undo what my wishy-washy behavior has caused, but all of us ask your forgiveness for that.”

  “Hey.” Leah stayed some ten feet away. “Isn’t it my turn to see Phoebe yet?”

  Rhoda started down the hall. “Sure. You can take my place. I’d like to visit with my Daed.” She patted Leah’s shoulder as she passed her.

  “Hi.” Leah fidgeted with her hands. “How are you?”

  Landon longed to take them into his. “Good. You?”

  “Thrilled that Phoebe’s doing as well as she is. But no one’s said much about the baby other than he’s thriving.”

  “He’s a good eater. But it takes a while to get him to burp, and when his little hands grab something—a finger or shirt—he’s got quite a grip.”

  “Rhoda’s Daed said you’d been helping feed him. From what I’ve heard, it seems you’ve won over most Amish.”

  “I had no clue, but that’s sort of what Steven just said. Funny, isn’t it? Now that it doesn’t matter, they see I’m not such a bad guy.”

  “It’s not funny, no.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that.” He wanted to ask what she thought of his returning to the farm, but he needed to make the decision on his own. She would probably tell him yes because she wanted what was best for him. But he wanted what was best for her, and he doubted that his returning to Maine was it.

  She motioned toward the automated, double-wide doors, the ones that led to ICU. “I should go.”

  “Me too. Good to see you.” He took a few steps and turned. “Leah.”

  She paused before stepping back from the automated door. “Ya?”

  “Did you and Granny work out a good deal on the store?”

  “We did.”

  “I hope it goes well for you and Crist.”

  She returned to him, looking offended. And confused. “You what?”

  “I hope you’re happy. Really, I do.”

  Her eyes sparked. “Crist is helping me clean out the store, but he’s not a part of the plan.”

  “But I thought—”

  “I can see that. It’s a little soon, don’t you think?”

  “I’d hoped.”

  “Crist is with Iva. They’re dating.”

  “Oh. Okay. It is a little too soon, but you will find the right someone.”

  “Like you always said, I’m young and shouldn’t be in a hurry.”

  “You mean you listened to me?”

  “Only when life proved you were right.”

  “That I believe.” He chuckled. “So what’s the plan?”

  “To work on the store over the next year or two as time allows. When my family is back on their feet from this crisis and Samuel has hired and trained the needed field workers, I will move into the store and try to make a go of it.”

  “Opening a store there is a good idea.”

  “I thought so.”

  “If you do this as you say, even your Daed will be pleased.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  “It might.”

  “I won’t tell him this before the store is in livable shape, but I’m not joining the faith.”

  Power jolted through Landon, making him feel as if he might shoot through every floor above him, like a rocket taking off. He fought to respond as if it were simply interesting information from a friend. “How can you be so sure?”

  “When the tug of wanting you vanished, I was left with just me. And the real me, without you, still longs to build a healthy, good life outside of being Amish.”

  He couldn’t believe his ears. So where did this leave the two of them? “Do Samuel and Rhoda know?”

  “I haven’t said it aloud, but I think they know. Like I said, I’m in no hurry. But”—she moved in closer and tugged on his T-shirt—“I’m a mess, Landon. I don’t fit in your world, and I get upset and say things I shouldn’t. You’ve experienced that more than once. I used to think I’d mature and grow out of it and I wouldn’t be a spring sky—sunny one minute and rainy the next. But if I live to be ninety, I think those things will be a part of who I am, at least when I’m in the middle of an argument.”

  “I was ready to put up with your … more frustrating side, Leah. I’ve been known to overreact a time or two myself.”

  She released his shirt and smoothed it. “Then I suppose that makes you free to choose an ex-Amish girl to be yours or to find an Englisch one who suits you better. But as far as you’re concerned”—her gaze met his and held it—“I’m a sure bet.”

  He’d said the same thing to her about choosing to stay Amish or to live English—that no matter how long it took her to decide, he was a sure bet. She turned toward ICU again, her words echoing inside him.

  He grabbed her by the hand, looking for a private spot. Down a different hall was an alcove with a pay phone. He knew it well, and it was usually empty.

  He tugged her into the tiny space and pulled her into his arms. “The only girl I want is the only one I’ve ever wanted. You.”

  She closed her eyes tight, her breathing choppy. Then she drew a deep breath and looked at him. “Then you’re a lucky man, because I am yours and no one else’s.”

  Landon placed his lips on hers, drinking in the woman who was his first, his last.

  His everything.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Apple-picking equipment was sprawled from the barnyard to the other side of the house, reminding Jacob of a subdivision with multifamily yard sales. He walked the pathways filled with instruments and equipment, taking notes on paper and on his phone as he inspected bins, crates, ladders, and wagons.

  Orchard workers, both men and women, buzzed throughout the yards, moving from one assigned task to another, like bees pollinating an orchard in springtime. Unlike past harvests, all the pickers were Amish, but Jacob had yet to learn some of their names. There seemed to be only one name that really stuck, and he heard it all the time—Esther.

  In the last six weeks since he and Esther had gone their separate ways, he hadn’t quite mastered ignoring the nagging emptiness. But he’d found a distraction that was a little helpfu
l. With a clipboard in hand, he paused in the middle of the barnyard, tuned out everything going on around him, and tapped out a text message to Esther.

  It wouldn’t get to her. The phone number where he sent the messages was to the landline in Bailey’s shop. But Jacob needed to talk to Esther, and, short of calling her, this was the best he could do. Writing to her like this did nothing for their relationship, but he felt better for it—sort of like going to a cemetery and talking to the ground where a person lay. It just helped. Somehow. He shared everything with her via dead-end text messages—his thoughts, dreams, and hopes. He wrote about what was happening with Phoebe, his sister and Landon, the store he’d helped renovate, the farm, and even Rhoda and Samuel. And, of course, he’d thanked her for the thoughtful gift.

  But right now Jacob was writing a joke one of the new Amish workers had told him a little earlier.

  An Amish dad, mom, and son are in a shopping mall for the first time when they notice something they’ve never seen before: an elevator. While staring at it, an elderly woman comes up and pushes the button. The door opens, she goes inside, and the door closes. They watch as the buttons for each floor light, first going up and then down. The door opens, and out walks a young, gorgeous woman. Dad turns to his son. “Quick, let’s help your mom get in!”

  Just as he was about to hit send, his brother’s voice boomed through the air. “Jacob!”

  Something came flying toward him.

  Jacob almost dropped the phone as he caught a notepad. “Hey. I was in the middle of something.”

  “Ya.” Samuel moved in closer. “And half the youth here are watching you do it. Can you check my figures?”

  Jacob glanced at his phone. Samuel’s flying notepad had caused several words to delete. He slid his phone into his pocket. He’d fix the message and send it later. “Sure.”

  The workers who filled the yards had been coming from out of state for days—thanks to Jojo and Landon going to bus and train stations to chauffeur them. Many of the Amish had rented homes that were for sale in the area, and they’d filled the leased places with as many workers as possible, setting up cots and sleeping bags. Others stayed with Amish families in the area. Every house had at least one cook to keep the workers fed. After having six weeks of intensive physical therapy in Pennsylvania, Phoebe had finally returned to Maine a week ago. Even so, Iva and Leah were still the main cooks in the farmhouse, and they helped take care of Phoebe as she continued to have physical therapy and to gain strength.

  It was the third week in August, and apple-picking season began in two days. How had Samuel and Rhoda managed all this last fall while he was elsewhere? They were a remarkable team, not only in work, but much more so in life and love.

  But as much as they needed him this year, they’d already set him free for next year. When the harvest was over, he’d use his portion of the profits to start his own construction company. It’d be a small one, but it’d be the beginning of his dream. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to do new construction anymore. He’d shared that too in his text messages. It’d be nice to get Esther’s thoughts on his business ideas.

  Maybe he should’ve kept his feelings about their dating to himself, and he had certainly been guilty of withholding parts of his life from others, but for better or worse, he wasn’t any good at keeping how he felt from anyone. She had to be able to admit how she felt. Until then, he’d leave her alone.

  He glanced over the list of items Samuel had given him, figuring everything they’d need to make repairs and have all the equipment in good working order for the first day of picking. “I think the closest home-improvement and construction store is probably the Home Depot in Waterville.” He’d look it up on his phone later. “I’ll merge your info with mine, and when I’m done, I’ll get Landon to take me to get the stuff.”

  “He may still be holding those training classes.”

  Samuel, Rhoda, and Jacob were implementing numerous new ways to harvest the apples. They wanted to make it easier to train people who’d never picked apples so they could harvest apples and deliver them to the assigned spot without damaging the trees or fruit. If their plan worked, and he thought it would, they wouldn’t need to hire many migrant workers in the future. They could hire American pickers, mostly Amish ones.

  Samuel picked up a crate, inspecting it. “Before you go, would you check with Rhoda and Phoebe to see if they need anything else added to your list?”

  “Sure.” Jacob jotted down the amount of pine they’d need to repair a few more crates.

  “Thanks.” Samuel nodded toward the orchard. “I’m going to take a look at the orchard again.”

  Jacob started toward the house. Phoebe and Steven had yet to take over their suite again. Phoebe couldn’t climb those mismatched, steep stairs dozens of times a day to make beds, gather laundry, and do whatever else she would need to do with her family’s bedrooms on the second floor. So the men had created a makeshift bedroom for them on the first floor—mostly a divider made with poles and sheets. Esther could have created something much more charming that would work even better. But when the harvest was over, Jacob would build interior walls and make a fully functional first-floor suite.

  Because of the doctor bills Steven and Phoebe faced, they’d used all their savings, and they’d owe medical bills for a long time, even with the help of the Amish community. So they’d probably share a home with Rhoda and Samuel for the foreseeable future, which seemed to suit both couples just fine.

  Jacob’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text message. His grin couldn’t be contained. “Samuel, wait up.” His brother must not have heard him, and Jacob hurried that way.

  The text was the message he’d been waiting for. Peterman Farms wanted to buy organic apples so they could sell whole and sliced apples to a sandwich-shop chain. But they were in a bidding war with a marketer of a fast-food place that sold packages of fresh, sliced apples and wanted to up their game by going organic. Jacob couldn’t believe the prices being offered by these companies. The more money Orchard Bend Farms made, the more he could invest in his new business and could increase his help to Sandra.

  Samuel studied the trees, oblivious that Jacob was behind him. Was something on Samuel’s mind? Jacob slid the phone into his pocket. He’d tell his brother about this in a bit.

  “You and Rhoda should be pleased.”

  “I didn’t realize you were there.” Samuel plucked a McIntosh. “It’s taken all of us, ya?”

  Jacob couldn’t argue. “So is something on your mind?”

  Samuel tossed the apple to Jacob. “Since we all agree about supporting Leah, including Steven, I’m wondering if we could go ahead and release her from helping the family.”

  Jacob took a bite, and juice ran down one side of his mouth. Excellent. They’d be at peak flavor starting next week. He wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you wondering if we’re ready emotionally or financially?”

  “Financially. Whenever anything changes on this farm, Rhoda’s work load increases.”

  Jacob took another bite of apple. “Rhoda has Landon again, and after this harvest you can hire several girls to relieve Leah while she gets her store up and running.” He dug one hand into his pocket and pressed a button, revealing the text. “Top dollar, Samuel.”

  Samuel took the phone, staring wide eyed. “I … I …”

  “You’re speechless!” Jacob laughed.

  “Hey.” Rhoda was riding bareback on a horse, and she was coming toward them, leading a second horse. They waved, returning her greeting.

  Jacob threw the apple core as far as he could. “On to other fun news. Aside from the bidding war we have going with two companies who want organic apples, Gerber has made a pretty good offer. We won’t make as much profit selling to them as we will if Rhoda cans the products herself, but if you are concerned about her being overworked, it’d give her less to do. And it’s a good offer.”

  “When do they need to know?”

 
; He wiped his sticky hand on his pants. “We have a couple of days.”

  “Thanks for taking over that aspect. Numbers are easy for you, but it takes me hours to work through all that.”

  “When I’m gone, Landon’s your next-best help. He’s like you with calculating figures—good, but needs to think about it. What’s surprising is how savvy he is about what’s happening with major corporations and their fruit needs. He’s the reason I contacted those two companies.”

  “Good to know. Denki.”

  Rhoda brought the horses to a stop near them. “Samuel, kumm ride with me.”

  Samuel passed his clipboard to Jacob and reached for the second horse.

  “Nope.” Rhoda backed up her horse, causing the second one to back up as well. “With me. Same horse.”

  Samuel made a face. “But you brought two.”

  She leaned in, flirting with him while patting the horse. “The same horse, Samuel King. The other one is for Jacob.”

  Samuel gazed up at her. “Then you’ll have to get down. I can’t mount a saddle-less horse with someone already on it.”

  Rhoda grinned and extended her hand to him. “I’ll pull you up like you do for me when we ride together.”

  “Great idea, except I weigh a lot more than you. We’ll both land on the ground.”

  Jacob passed the clipboards to Rhoda. “Here.” He clasped his hands together and held them for Samuel to use as a step. With Jacob’s help Samuel mounted the horse, and Rhoda and Samuel chorused a thank you.

  Jacob patted the horse. “It seems to take the three of us to get you two on a horse riding off into the sunset.”

  The words brought him no pain. In fact, he smiled. Whether he and Esther worked things out or not, or if he remained single all his life, Jacob knew Rhoda was not the one for him.

  As Samuel reached around his wife, she passed the reins to him. Jacob pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped in the missing words to his joke, and hit send. He would stay out here for a bit and send texts that would never arrive. It was therapeutic.

 

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