A Season for Tending (46 page)

“I’m tired of trying, and I can’t even give you a good reason why. I’m sorry.”

Catherine rose. That was it then. She could say little else. “I’ve always loved you, Samuel. And if you decide I’m worth the rough patch we’ve been through, I’ll be here in Harvest Mills, waiting.”

FORTY-SIX

Rhoda stared out the side window of the van, amazed at the scenery that surrounded them. The road they traveled wove through long sections of tall trees, past large farms with barns and silos, and through small residential towns with modest homes, most boasting well-tended vegetable gardens. The largest sections had been plowed under and mulch added in preparation for next year’s crop.

It struck her as odd that many homes had a garden and that they were well manicured. Aside from her fascination with the gardens, she was most thrilled by how familiar it all felt. Different from Pennsylvania, of course, but similar enough that it felt almost like home.

And after the devastation they’d left behind, the beauty of Unity, Maine, refreshed her.

Landon kept his eyes on the road most of the time except when he glanced at Rhoda in the rearview mirror, grinning at her delight. “I knew you’d like it here.”

Hail had damaged Landon’s truck beyond repair, so the insurance company had covered the cost of a rental vehicle until it could be replaced. He’d paid the difference to get an enormous van, big enough to carry ten people. They were a bit scrunched, but no one minded.

Rhoda’s Daed sat up front with Landon. Samuel’s father and uncle had a more limited view from the row behind her, but that’s where they’d wanted to sit. Her brother Steven and Leah shared a bench seat with her. And Samuel, Jacob, and Eli were in the last row.

“Look.” Rhoda pointed out her window at a sign. “Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association.”

Landon pressed the brakes, almost coming to a crawl. “It has a motto of some sort.” He peered and then chuckled. “Listen to this: ‘If the world were to end tomorrow, I would still plant an apple tree today.’ It’s a quote by Martin Luther.”

Landon picked up speed again, and they all pointed out various items of interest. The anticipation in the van was tangible.

A light rain began to fall, and Landon turned on the windshield wipers. The mist made everything sparkle, giving the scenery a mystical quality.

Her family had been able to secure only one building permit for the land that was once her fruit garden. John was building a home there, but Steven wanted more than just a lot. He’d shared with Rhoda how he longed to find a place with enough land that he could divide it for his own children—and his grandchildren—when the time came. As Rhoda looked out the window, she couldn’t help but feel he could find such a place here.

“That’s it.” Landon pointed and then pulled the van alongside the curb in front of a tiny yellow house with light-green shutters. Blue hydrangea bushes lined the sidewalk.

As the group piled out of the van, a short, white-haired woman in slacks and a blouse came out, rushed up to Landon, and gave him a hug.

“Granny, this is Rhoda.”

She raised her arms toward Rhoda, her eyes sparkling. “Landon never told me you were beautiful. Come here.”

As Rhoda bent over slightly to enjoy the woman’s hug, she giggled at the blush that colored Landon’s cheeks.

After introductions were made all around, Granny invited them inside to use the bathroom, stretch their legs, and get a quick bite to eat. After the ten-hour drive and eating only packed lunches along the way, they were all eager for a break.

Granny’s house was small but cozy. She warmed a large pan of tuna noodle casserole in a microwave oven in a matter of minutes and made them all feel like family.

Once they’d double-checked the maps and expressed their gratitude for her food and generosity, they stuffed themselves back into the van for the last leg of their journey.

A few miles past a lovely lake, they rounded a corner and saw a plot of land with straggly trees, their branches thin and brown. “This must be the place,” Landon called out to the backseats.

He eased the van down a long driveway of cracked concrete to a large, rather dilapidated farmhouse. Electric wires ran to the home. “The Realtor’s a friend of my granny’s. He said he’d leave the place unlocked for us so we could check it out. If we’re interested, I can call him, and he’ll meet us here to discuss the details.”

As they got out of the vehicle, Rhoda watched Samuel gaze at the barren, sickly trees. His Daed, brothers, and uncle walked with him, as did her brother Steven.

The rest of the group followed Landon into the house.

“Phew!” Leah held her nose.

Rhoda sniffed. “It does smell a bit musty, doesn’t it?”

Daed tried to open a few windows, although some were stuck so tight they wouldn’t budge.

They went through the front room, living room, dining room, and bedrooms. “Four fireplaces.” Leah made a face. “That’d take a lot of wood and work. It does have gas heating, right?”

“A home is only as warm as the people in it.” Daed grinned as Rhoda quoted the old family saying. “But there’s a large propane tank sitting out back.” She pointed through a dingy window. “So I’m sure there’s gas heat.”

Leah wrinkled her nose. “The bedrooms are tiny.”

Daed looked out the bedroom window. “It gets really cold here, and small rooms are easier to heat and only meant for sleeping.”

They made their way back to the kitchen, a room Rhoda had barely glanced at earlier. But this time she realized it was the largest kitchen she had ever seen in a house. Bigger than the summer kitchen! It had a cooking fireplace, built
forever ago, maybe refurbished at some point, and it had an old crane for hanging pots, and two tiny brick ovens with iron doors for baking bread.

“Look at all those cabinets.” Leah came up beside her. “And tons of counter space.” Leah flipped the electric light switch. Nothing happened. “Yep, that’s about right for an Amish home.”

Rhoda ran her hands along the brick of the fireplace. She didn’t know why, but she felt connected to this home.

Leah sneezed. “Like the rest of the place, it could use a good cleaning.”

“That stove would have to be replaced.” The rickety-looking thing couldn’t possibly cook anything properly. Rhoda opened the refrigerator. It stunk. And it was electric. A gas line would have to be run, but they wouldn’t need to purchase new appliances. They could move all the ones from the summer kitchen.

She could see herself working here, doing whatever she could to help the orchard come back to life and then, in time, canning the harvest.

This plan meant so much to the Kings, especially Jacob and Samuel. But she was getting ahead of herself. She’d get a vote, but the decision wasn’t up to her.

She looked out the dirt-crusted window and saw the King men walking the neglected orchard. Their opinions would carry far more weight than hers. If the trees were too far gone, nothing else mattered.

But now that she’d seen this place, she wanted to nurture every bit of it back to life.

A poke in her back made her jump and turn around. Landon stood there, a wide grin on his face. “Well, Rhodes, what do you think?”

“I think you’re still pushing for the same thing you’ve been wanting for years.” She spotted her father in the doorway, his back to her. “Landon, why don’t you find something more useful to do than pestering me?”

He followed her gaze. Clearly getting her hint, he corralled Leah out the door.

Rhoda joined her Daed. He put his arm around her while continuing to stare across the yard. Rhoda followed his gaze.

Oh, he knew her so well.

“Greenhouses.” Four round-roofed, glass-and-wood buildings stood in the distance. It was all she could do to keep from racing to them. But she remained at her father’s side.

“Ten hours isn’t so far.” Emotion made his voice hoarse. “And Steven will be here with you.”

“And Phoebe and their little ones.” She nudged his side. “Landon will come get you and bring you and Mamm here whenever you want. Might be a nice getaway for you two.”

He gazed down at her, his eyes misting. “I know you’re itching to go check out those greenhouses.”

“I am. You want to come with me?”

“You go on. I want a minute with Steven and with Samuel’s Daed. I have questions.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then scurried toward the enclosures in the field.

The minute she walked into the first greenhouse, her heart soared. The place smelled of earth and fertilizer. And new life, despite the season. As she strolled down the aisle between rows of plant stands covered with broken clay pots, her mind’s eye visualized a thriving indoor garden filled with starter plants. Berries. Grapes. Perhaps other fruits. Even—dare she imagine it?—herbs.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She turned and saw Jacob in the doorway.

He meandered inside, looking robust and hopeful. “The orchard looks promising enough. It’ll take a lot of work.” He caressed her hand.

She enjoyed how secure and treasured he made her feel. “So will the house.”

“They’re both in better shape than what that tornado left us back home.”

Rhoda freed her hand and picked up a pot that had only a slight chip. “I can’t help but wonder what kind of plants once grew here.”

“And what kind of plants could grow here again.”

She put the pot back on the shelf and stared at it. What else might grow if they relocated here? A new Amish community full of hope and potential. Friendships. Relationships. Families.

Love.

Jacob came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Are you in?”

His soft voice chased away years of loneliness. “Are you?”

“I am. It’s the answer. I know it is.”

She turned to face him. “I’m not as sure as you, but my vote is yea.”

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. “You won’t regret it.” He kissed her, and she hoped he was right.

She smiled up at him. “I’m not regretting it so far.” She brushed her fingertips over his lips. “Do you know who might vote nay?”

“Not yet. I’ll talk to my brothers and Daed. But I wanted to know what you thought. You still have reservations?”

She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s a lack of confidence from losing two businesses so close together.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m sure of it too.” He winked and headed for the entry of the greenhouse. “Let’s meet where the orchard abuts the backyard in about twenty minutes, okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

Samuel held on to the crutches while scanning the ragged orchard. These trees were in better shape than his tornado-damaged ones, but it’d take a lot of time, attention, and care this coming year and whatever nutrient-enriched mulch Rhoda could conjure up to make them bear fruit again. Eighty acres. Sixty of it planted with apple trees.

Wow.

But he wanted to talk to Rhoda before he gave his answer. He’d seen her go into the first greenhouse earlier. If he had his guess, she was in one of the others by now, inspecting, trying to get a
feel
for whether to move to Maine.

As awkward as a man on stilts, Samuel made his way across the rutty yard. He saw a shadow inside the third greenhouse and went that way. When he entered, he saw her kneeling, looking at some old pots and feeling the soil.

“You could play in the dirt year round in a place like this.”

She glanced up. “I suppose that’s the sort of stuff my dreams are made of.”

He went closer and leaned down to catch her eye. “And I’m ready to try whatever crazy ideas you might have for mulch.”

She grinned and rose. “So I take it you found what your dreams are made of?”

At her soft laugh, something resembling the power of a tornado rattled his insides, rearranging everything he’d once known as familiar. This was what he’d come in here for—to be alone with her, to be touched by their conversation. How had he not seen it before?

How had he missed what was happening inside him?

He turned away and put some distance between them, forcing himself to ignore the ridiculous feelings sprouting like apple blossoms in spring.

She dusted the dirt off her hands. “The kitchen is quite spacious. Plenty big to host a canning business. And these greenhouses have tremendous potential.”