A Season for Tending (42 page)

“Ya, it’s been thundering for hours.”

She faced him, frowning. “You’ve been up working all that time?”

“Ya. All I need now is a final count on yesterday’s canning.” He went inside, and she followed him. “That’d be the ones you did
after
you’d agreed to call it quits for the night.”

She stifled a yawn. “The ones I didn’t do are sitting right there.” She pointed at a shelf that had been empty when he left last night and was now lined with jars of applesauce.

While he went to the shelf, she put on a pot of coffee to percolate. Before he finished counting, rain began to patter on the roof. She unloaded the dishwasher and set up the table for another day of assembly-line canning.

He closed the ledger. “Leah will probably open her eyes, realize it’s storming, and go back to sleep.”

Rhoda pulled two mugs from the cabinet. “There may not be any apple picking today, but there’s no shortage of apples sitting in crates, waiting to be canned.”

“I know. But I thought you might need a slower start to your day. I’ll wake her when you’re ready to begin.”

She poured coffee into both cups and added the same amount of cream and sugar to each. A loud clap of thunder made her jump, and she spilled some of her coffee on her clean apron and dress.

He laughed before accepting a mug and taking a sip. “Didn’t take you for one who’d be bothered by a little inclement weather.”

“I never have been. Maybe I’m a bit jittery today.” She set her mug on the counter and used a clean dishtowel to wipe off the liquid.

“Did you find the time to call your Daed last night?”

“Has a cat got a tail?”

He chuckled. “And nine lives, or so I’ve heard.”

She went to the pantry and pulled out a loaf of his Mamm’s homemade bread. “A day is not complete until I’ve talked to my Daed.”

“Did you mention my idea about hiring another helper?”

“No.” She put a slice of bread on a plate and passed it to him. “He’d side with you, and I don’t. End of it, Samuel.”

“Do you have to disagree with me on every topic before finally seeing that I’m right?”

She sliced herself a piece of bread. “You’re annoying, Samuel King. Do you know that?”

Samuel sipped his coffee. “How should we go about finding your new help?”

“I said no.”

He knew what needed to be done, as did Jacob. So Samuel chose to ignore her opposition. “I imagine you’ll want to find someone who is careful to follow directions, doesn’t dawdle, and can be a good fit with the three personalities already working here.”

Her eyes met his, and he saw anger begin to mount. “I don’t want another helper. Not yet. I just need to hone my routine. That’s all.”

“Trust me. You’re wrong about this. The Sunday-evening singing is at our house this week. We could invite everyone to the summer kitchen for the snacks and fellowshipping time. We’ll ask the girls to come early to help us get
ready. Those who show themselves as interested, diligent workers and who take instruction well would make our best candidates.”

As he explained his idea to Rhoda, he wondered if Catherine would come, perhaps out of curiosity. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He should be ready to see her by now and to talk, but he didn’t want to cross that bridge. Not yet.

His girlfriend and their troubles aside, his spirits felt lighter of late.

“No.” Rhoda grabbed a filled jar and set it in front of him. “Do you need me to spell it out in apple butter across your forehead?”

Rain pounded on the roof. Thunder rumbled. The aroma of spices and coffee filled the air. This extension of Kings’ Orchard felt homey and right.

“Just think about it today, okay?”

She nudged the jar of apple butter closer to him. “Your answer to everything I don’t want to do is that
I
need to think about it.”

“That’s because when you disagree with me, you’re always wrong.”

She huffed. “We’re not doing it your way. Not until I think it’s the right thing to do.”

Her opposing opinion irked him, but whether they agreed on this or not, they’d have a very profitable harvest. He knew that for sure now, and he wouldn’t need to sell any land.

He set his mug in the sink and realized he hadn’t checked that Eli had overseen the pickers putting away all the ladders and buckets last night. “I need to see if all the equipment is properly stored.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you need an umbrella?”

“Hallo.” Jacob swung open the screen door and stepped inside.

“Guder Marye, Jacob.” Rhoda bowed her head, almost giving a curtsey, and Samuel saw her eyes welcome his brother.

Guilt nibbled at him. The feelings between Jacob and Rhoda appeared to be strong and growing stronger. But their relationship was on hold because he had asked his brother to keep a professional distance.

Were they doing that? If so, he needed to remove that barrier between
them. Rhoda was not the type of woman who’d get out of sorts with Jacob and expect Samuel to fix things or she’d leave. That wasn’t her way. She might ban Jacob from coming to the summer kitchen more than absolutely necessary, but that would be it. He’d talk to Jacob about it as soon as they were alone.

“I was just leaving to check the field.” He pulled his hat tighter onto his head. “We don’t want anything to get ruined by the rain.”

He stepped onto the porch. After years of feeling pressure concerning the orchard and not knowing how to make the business more solvent, he now felt confident and hopeful. He’d finally found a solution for Kings’ Orchard, but he wouldn’t have if Leah hadn’t gone to an Englisch party. He drew a deep breath.

God used the oddest situations to line people up and get them involved in each other’s lives. He’d even used Leah’s sinful ways to find an answer Samuel had been looking for. And from now on, he would be patient with the frustrating events, believing that God would use them to get His children to walk a new path.

FORTY-TWO

Rhoda opened the ledger Samuel had been writing in moments earlier and read the figures. “I’m trying not to argue with Samuel since he and Catherine aren’t seeing each other, but he doesn’t make it easy.”

“About hiring another worker?” Jacob poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Ya.”

“My vote is with Samuel on this one. Maybe then you’ll have time for something besides work.”

“You’re both good men, but I’ll be the one to make that decision.”

Jacob studied her with his deep green eyes. But whatever came out of his mouth wouldn’t necessarily be related to what he was thinking. “I know we’re not supposed to be dating, but I’d really like to see you this weekend, even if it’s at a group gathering.”

She closed the ledger. “I’d think you would be tired of seeing me. I’m here from sunup Monday mornings to almost dinnertime on Saturday nights.”

He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow on the table, and gazed up at her. “Nope. Not tired of seeing you yet.”

“Gut.” She playfully pinched his chin between her thumb and forefinger. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Truth was, she wanted time with him too. No matter how much they were together, she always wanted more. She got out the largest boiler and began filling it with water. “Actually, Samuel wants to have a gathering here Sunday evening.” She explained the plan, aware of anxiety building in her stomach.

Jacob hauled in several crates of apples from the front porch. Wind whipped through the stone house, rattling the shutters. As she began setting empty jars on the table, goose bumps ran the length of her body, making all
the tiny hairs on her arms, face, and neck stand on end. She swallowed hard, determined to settle down whatever was niggling at her.

Emma’s innocent face flashed before her.
Save them
.

“Don’t start this.” Rhoda squeezed her eyes tight and braced herself against the counter.

“Start what?” Jacob’s voice sounded distant.

She turned to face him, hoping to be drawn back to the workday in front of her.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You okay?”

“Ya. Of course. Probably too much coffee and too little sleep.” She walked back to the sink and turned off the water before moving clean jars to the work station.

A gunshot echoed inside her head, and she dropped a jar.

“I’ll get that.” Jacob grabbed a broom and dustpan.

What was happening? This was how she felt right before Emma was killed, but her intuition told her that more than one loved one hung in the balance this time.

She was just tired. That was it, and she had no desire to make herself a target of gossip again. Everyone in Harvest Mills seemed willing to give her a fresh start after the crazy rumors that had surrounded her in Morgansville.

Jacob swept the shards of glass into the pan, and suddenly she felt as if he were sweeping up the shattered remains of his life—as if it wasn’t yet broken but soon would be.

“Rhodes?” Jacob clasped her arm, his voice muffled.

Chills upon chills layered her skin. This feeling was even stronger than when she’d sensed something wrong with Mrs. Walker. Acting on that had saved the old woman’s life.

“Jacob, go to your house and get everyone in the cellar.”

He led her to the doorway and pointed at the clearing in the distance. “The storm’s over. The rain will be gone soon too.”

She walked onto the lawn, studying the ever-brightening sky.

Jacob came alongside her, looking for evidence that couldn’t be seen.

Was she wrong? Another shot rang out inside her, and she jumped. She grabbed him by the arms. “I
need
this from you. Please, Jacob.”

He stared into her eyes, and she realized he loved her. Probably more than even he knew. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “Okay.”

The earth rumbled under her feet. Was it real? Or a warning?

“Go!”
She shoved him toward the house and ran in the opposite direction for the orchard. “Samuel!” She hurried farther into the orchard. “Samuel!” On she trudged, mud covering her skirts, rain drowning out her voice. “Samuel!”

A clap of thunder shook the ground, and the heavens opened. Rain fell harder, mixed with pea-sized hail. “Samuel!” Daylight disappeared as if someone had turned off the lights.

She spotted him at last. “Samuel!”
Please, God, let him hear me
!

He stopped and turned to face her—

The tree in front of him split, sending splinters of wood in every direction. Samuel fell, and she ran to him. Before she reached him, he got up and headed for her, limping and holding his leg. Lightning crackled across the sky, hitting a tree, exploding it. She screamed, covering her head with her arms.

When the sparks stopped flying, she ran for Samuel. A piece of something was sticking out of his leg and blood oozed through his trousers.

“Let’s get out of here!” he yelled over the tumultuous sounds of rain, hail, and wind.

Rhoda put her arms around his waist, and he leaned into her. The wind ripped at their clothing and made it impossible to catch a full breath. The sound of wood twisting and moaning surrounded them. Seeing more than ten feet ahead was impossible, and Rhoda prayed they were going in the right direction.

The summer kitchen finally came into sight, and soon they staggered onto the porch and into the house. They went to the back room, which didn’t have windows that could shatter and fill the air with glass. She eased him onto the
bed, and he leaned his back against the wall. She settled beside him, closing her eyes and praying their families were safe.

Pans clattered. Glass broke. Roofing ripped off overhead.

Samuel wrapped her in his arms, assuring her they were safe.

The winds died, and the thunder became distant. Finally a deafening quiet settled over the place, leaving only the sound of a gentle rain.

She opened her eyes, tilting her head back to look into Samuel’s face. “I sent Jacob to your house to get everyone to safety, but I didn’t do it when I should have.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “What if I waited too long?”

He hugged her tightly, saying nothing.

She eased from his warm embrace, and he released her. “I have to check on your family.”

“I’ll do that.” He tried to get up and winced before collapsing.

“Stay off your leg.” After helping him shift to a prone position, Rhoda covered him with a blanket, all except his leg.

Her knees threatened to buckle as she went through the roofless kitchen with glass, shingles, and cooking utensils strewn in her path. She whispered prayers as she headed down the path to the main house.

Her wet clothes clung to her, and water squished inside her black slip-on shoes. She saw a honey-brown patch of color through the underbrush and hoped she’d just caught a glimpse of Jacob’s hair. “Jacob?” She ran.

He came around the blind, gaining speed. “Rhoda!”

She hurried to him, and he swallowed her in his arms, lifting her feet off the ground.

He put her down, embracing her tight. “Samuel?”

“Injured, but safe. Your family?”

“They’re all fine. Katie has a gash on her forehead from some debris that hit her as everyone moved from the house to the cellar. A whole side of our house was ripped off, and the damage is horrendous, but everyone is alive.” He touched the end of her nose. “Thanks to you. How bad is Samuel?”