A Season for Tending (20 page)

She wasn’t fooled by his lies. A teenager who said he didn’t have a girlfriend had no reason to visit someone else’s church. Once he’d walked out of the house, she’d hurried up the stairs to her room, the perfect place to watch him. A few minutes later she’d seen a car pull up at the end of their short driveway, and he got into it. Were the people inside the vehicle Plain? With the sunlight reflecting off the car windows, she couldn’t tell.

She glanced at the clock. It was going on one in the afternoon.

A car door slammed, and she hurried to the window. Arlan waved good-bye to the people in the vehicle and then walked toward the house.

She ran down the steps, flew out the door, and met him in the yard. “Where’ve you really been?”

Arlan sidestepped her. “I was just checking out some things.”

She grabbed his arm. “What did you need to explore on a Sunday?”

“You know, Sis, I have a news flash for you: I’m not your problem.”

“What is wrong with you? We’re supposed to honor our father and mother, not break their hearts.”

“Give it a rest, Catherine.” He tried again to go around her.

She got in front of him. “No. Not until you do what you should be doing.”

“Who made you judge? Our first loyalty is to God, not man. And maybe it honors Him to use my free will during my rumschpringe to see God from a
different viewpoint than the one I’ve grown up with. It proves our parents have raised a son who isn’t content with easy answers. If you see my behavior as out of line, take it up with God, and leave me alone.”

Her skin crawled with anxiety. “You went to church?”

He nodded.

“An Englisch church?” She looked heavenward before turning back to him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t expect you to get it. You question nothing about being Amish, but I do. And I’m searching for answers.”

“You’re opening the door for doubt and confusion.”

“One of many differences between us, Catherine. I’m not afraid to wrestle with those things, not if it means I have a chance to be sure of what I believe.”

“But, Arlan, you know those who go down that path are the most likely to leave our ways.”

“So? You believe that leaving the Amish church is the same as turning your back on God. Christ has been around a lot longer than the Amish.”

She choked back tears. “But we have to join with other dedicated believers, those who will help us navigate this wicked world without becoming ensnared. The Amish know how to do that.”

“They can help you do that. But I’m not convinced it’s the answer for me.”

“There is only one answer—Christ.”

“I agree with you, Catherine. But it seems to me that we Amish live the way we do out of fear.”

“That’s ridiculous. I refuse the world’s ways out of faith, not fear.”

“Then maybe, for me, grabbing on to the modern ways
is
walking by faith.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“It’s possible. But that’s what I’m trying to sort through, so butt out.” He headed toward the door.

“Ya? Well, while you’re trying to figure it all out, do yourself a favor, and don’t ask Leah. She understands even less about how life works than you do.”

He turned. “Does Samuel have any idea how much you detest his sister?”

“I love Leah, but she’s a troublemaker who thinks nothing of disobeying God.”

“What has she ever done to you?”

“Nothing to me personally, not yet. But she stirs it up, and you have no idea.”

“Wow, it must be nice to always be the one who lives right.”

“There are moral lines to be kept, Arlan. I’m sorry it sickens you that I keep them.”

“You seem to think I cross them all the time—whether I’m under Leah’s influence or not. I like Leah, and I hope she’ll attend this Englisch church with me sometime soon. One of the best things about her is that she’s every bit as confused as I am, and she’s not afraid to admit it or stumble and fall while trying to figure out life.”

“You think that’s so great? And what if she’s pregnant? What will you think then?”

The lines of anger on his face vanished, and he all but gaped at her. Her own words began to dawn on her, and she wished she could take them back.

Arlan stared at her, a jumble of emotions showing on his face—fear and anger being the most prominent. “Why would you say that? That’s a pretty big thing to accuse someone of.”

“I shouldn’t have said it.”

“But you have reasons for thinking it’s true.”

She swallowed hard. “I was angry with you and said the first thing that came to mind.”

He continued studying her, trying to distinguish truth from exaggeration. “So you, the one who is always preaching about honesty and morality, just lied to me?”

“I … I—”

“Which is it, Catherine?” His confusion yielded to anger. “You lied, or Leah is pregnant?”

Leah said she wasn’t pregnant, but she lied about everything all the time. Still, Catherine should’ve kept her mouth shut.

He waited, and then he tilted his head. “What you said about Leah is true.” When she didn’t respond, he turned and strode toward the back field.

“Arlan.” Catherine hurried after him.

He pointed at her. “Don’t repeat what you said to anybody.”

She nodded, hoping he’d do the same. “Let’s keep it between us, okay?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off, probably going for one of his long walks to the pond. He’d likely stay there most of the day, tossing rocks and thinking. She wanted to beg him not to say anything to Leah. Or, heaven forbid, to Samuel. But asking that of Arlan would more likely cause him to tell both of them straightaway. All she could do was hope he’d use more discretion than she had.

She went to the steps and sat down. What had she done? And why? She’d promised Samuel she’d keep quiet about Leah’s secrets so she’d have no excuse to leave the Amish.

Sometimes she didn’t understand herself. As much as she admired Samuel, she felt the opposite about Leah. The girl got under her skin, but it wouldn’t bother her so much if Arlan saw her for who she was.

Catherine had to talk to Samuel. She hurried to the barn and hitched a rig. As she drove to Samuel’s, the tears flowed so freely that the front of her dress was wet by the time she pulled into his driveway.

If anyone could fix this, Samuel could. She tied the horse to the hitching post, knocked on the door, and went inside. Samuel was alone in the living room, his feet propped up on an ottoman and a thick book open in his hand.

“Samuel.”

“Hey.” He glanced at the clock while closing the book, looking as if he might be in trouble. “Did I get our plans for today mixed up?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t wait until tonight.”

He stood and smiled at her. “I like the sound of that—” But the smile quickly faded. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

She nodded, and he wrapped his arms around her. No place on earth felt as warm and secure as being in his arms. “I got into an argument with Arlan. He’s wrong about everything, and he has no respect for me, but he hangs on Leah’s every word. We have to keep those two apart.”

“I don’t think they’ve seen each other in at least a week or two.”

“But he wants to take her to some Englisch church next Sunday or the one after.”

Samuel propped his chin on the top of her head. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Catherine backed up. “You’ve got to stop that from happening. If she goes and likes it, I think that’s all it will take for him to break ties with us and join them.”

His brown eyes flashed with disbelief. “What do you want me to do? Ground her?”

“Ya, that’d be a start.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “She’s my sister, not my child, and that’s only one problem with your plan.”

“But you managed to ground her once.”

“Not exactly. We struck a deal and only because I wanted to keep her from parties, alcohol, and Michael. She’s been pretty low-key since then.” Samuel rubbed her back. “What happened between you and Arlan?” His quiet voice washed over her.

“I didn’t mean to get into an argument with him. I only wanted to find out where he’d gone this morning, and he got all rude about it.” She wished she could ask her Daed to talk to Arlan, and she’d tried that a few times. But either he treated her concerns as if they were nothing more than sibling rivalry, or he got so angry with Arlan that the two didn’t speak for days.

Samuel hugged her tight. “Men,” he mocked disgustedly. “We’ve lost our ability to speak in a careful, genteel manner when addressing young women.”

She pulled back, raising both eyebrows. “Genteel? You’ve never used that word before.”

He rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. “I’m reading all about the more genteel ways.”

She moved to the couch and picked up the book. “Why?”

“I’m hoping to learn a better way to get along with someone who’s a little difficult. It’s important for the orchard.”

“Why haven’t I heard about this plan?”

“It’s new. Leah’s idea, actually.” He brushed his jaw line with the back of his fingers.

Catherine didn’t pretend to understand what it took to run Kings’ Orchard, but this made no sense. “If you’re having trouble with someone, why not walk away from whatever business you have with them?”

“It’s not that easy. Some relationships are necessary, even if we do own the land and crops.”

“People are just difficult, aren’t they?”

He chuckled. “Ya,
they
are.” He took the book from her and ran his hands over the tattered hardback. “Unfortunately, it’s beginning to dawn on me that we’re people too.”

Catherine sat on the couch. “Are you saying that I’m as annoying to others as they are to me?”

“I can’t possibly see how.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Me either,” she giggled.

EIGHTEEN

Rhoda stepped into the tiny phone shanty at the edge of her property. The display on her phone flashed a red twelve. She groaned. The dozen messages couldn’t all be business. She’d checked the machine on Saturday, a few hours before Samuel arrived. Now it was Tuesday, and she had so many more messages? Just like last time, and the time before that, most would undoubtedly be crank calls—the same handful of Amish teens calling numerous times.

Bracing herself, she took a pencil and notepad from the top drawer of the small desk under the phone, sat in the vinyl chair, and pushed the green button to listen.

“I need your help,” a distressed young female whispered on the other end of the line. “I’m lost, and I don’t know how to find my way home. Wolves are howling all around me. I know you can
see
me. You’re the only one who can save me. Find me, Rhoda. Find me!” A burst of raucous laughter preceded the beep that ended the message.

Rhoda pressed the green button to pause the machine. She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself she wasn’t as alone, as friendless, as vulnerable as she felt. She wished her sister were here.

She knew not everyone was against her and only a handful made the crank calls. They’d stop for a while. But whenever she thought the nonsense had died down for good, they came again, like weeds in a garden. She guessed they were bored.

Rhoda pressed the button to delete the eerie message and waited for the next one to begin. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” the caller whined, “and I don’t know why. I’m sure you know. You can help—” She heard laughter in
the background and a muffled sound before she clicked Delete. The notion that she had any insight into romantic relationships was almost funny to her.

The next message was a real business call—a request for several cases of strawberry preserves, the no-sugar-added kind. She didn’t have enough white grape juice concentrate on hand, and this was a rush order. She added it to her shopping list.

Out of the dozen messages, five were for legitimate business. She left the shanty and went to the shed. Everything inside the building had been rearranged to make room for a set of old bookcases. Her brothers’ work, no doubt. They had quite a knack for either rearranging or throwing out items, much as they’d apparently done with her grandmother’s recipes. The need for space inside the house had them constantly moving items into the attic, barn, and shed.

While shifting some things around, she found the little red wagon her Daed had given her to carry items from the store. She heard a rig pull into her driveway. A quick glance confirmed that Daed had returned from one of his handyman jobs—maybe for lunch or maybe for supplies. Either way, her brothers weren’t with him.

With the wagon in hand, she left the shed. Her Daed had already gone into the house. She pulled the wagon behind her, enjoying the idea of a good walk. Perhaps it would help her sort through her jumbled thoughts and emotions concerning Samuel.

The idea of getting to know him better, of maybe even going out with him, intrigued her, even as frustrating as he was. He was muleheaded, but she wasn’t an easy person to get along with either. She and Landon had spats all the time, and no one was closer to her than he was. They enjoyed sparring, but her frustrations with Samuel hadn’t been so amusing.

While she didn’t really want to be put on the spot again about canning for Kings’ Orchard, she looked forward to seeing Samuel. Her Daed had warmed up to him right away, as had everyone else in the family. Something about him was magnetic. She couldn’t deny that.