For Every Season (17 page)

Jacob bristled at her definition. “You lived on a budget in older, small apartments. That’s not poverty.”

“So what happened with the loan shark?” Craig asked.

Sandra hesitated, and Jacob put his hand over hers. “I’m not leaving you, no matter what, but you need to tell us what you did and why you feel your life will be in danger if you return to Virginia to testify.”

She nodded and recounted the frightening events.

Craig took notes, underlining the loan shark’s name. Something she said seemed to catch the usually stone-faced lawyer off guard. Craig’s eyes moved to Jacob’s, and the steely coolness faded.

“Sandra, where is your daughter right now?”

“My sitter couldn’t keep her today, so she’s at Jacob’s farm.”

“Does anyone know where he lives—friends or relatives in Virginia that you’re in contact with?”

“No. We ran away without leaving a trace.”

Craig gestured to Jacob. “I never would have believed it before today, but, Jacob, you did the right thing in helping her hide.” Craig rubbed his jaw as if needing some time to take it all in. “Go on.”

FOURTEEN

Rhoda drove the wagon of saplings along the upper west ridge with Landon beside her and Zara in the back with the trees. While Jacob and Sandra were at the lawyer’s office, she and Landon had been planting sprigs. Field work on a glorious day like this one was quite welcome. Golden rays of sunlight warmed her face as a light breeze played with the strings of her prayer Kapp. The temperature had to be almost fifty today, but after being outside for a while, it still felt nippy. Her fingertips were cold because her gloves left them exposed.

But her heart was filled with contentment and warmth. Jacob continued to make strides toward freedom, and it seemed a perfect day to take a deep breath.

She’d yet to stop pondering Samuel’s visit to the Cranfords’ the day before yesterday. He’d freed her somehow. Pieces of what he’d said kept circling inside her:
God didn’t ask what we thought about you having such a gift … It’s not evil … We can’t disqualify what’s real because counterfeiters exist
.

Since talking with Samuel, she was working to simply unwind within herself, to stop fearing her intuitions. It was … refreshing.

Camilla and Bob didn’t seem to hold anything against her from the other night. Was Camilla right? Was there no grandchild? Rhoda wasn’t sure. Despite not being believers, they were wonderful, loving people.

Rhoda had since called her Daed. She then did something she’d never done before—snuggled into bed and talked on the phone for a really long time. It’d been the best conversation she’d had with him since she’d moved to Maine.

As she rode past several Duchess apple trees, she thought she saw a hint of buds on the branches. In April? In Maine? It grabbed her full attention. She tugged on the horse’s reins, drawing the rig closer.

Her heart stuck in her throat. “Some of the trees are starting to bud.”

Landon grabbed a branch, staring at it, but he remained silent. Was he struck by fear too?

She’d never been a part of an apple orchard during this time of year. The trees on the east side of the orchard weren’t this far along. She’d only come to this ridge in search of the best area for planting the young Honeygold apple trees.

The sight of healthy trees spread out before her was gorgeous. Mesmerizing, really. They were whole and thriving, just as everyone had hoped by this point, even though it would take two to four years for the orchard to be fully restored after having been abandoned for a few years. But what had her heart barely beating were the signs that the trees were on the verge of blossoming.

Apple trees could bear up under harsh winter conditions and thrive. Even the saplings in the back of the wagon needed only the ground to be thawed from winter; they’d thrive once they were planted. But Samuel had said that frost on a budding tree could destroy most of the crop, and they could still get freezing temperatures.

A dog barked in the distance, and she searched for Ziggy. In the dip below the ridge, she spotted him running toward her. Behind the dog was a wagon driven by Steven. Rhoda dropped off Landon and several saplings as Ziggy barreled toward her, barking and demanding attention. She motioned for him to jump up next to her, and then she patted him and let him hop into the back of the wagon with Zara. As she drove the rig toward her brother, she saw two little girls in coats and scarves dancing in the back of the wagon. Why were Arie and Casey with him? As she drew closer, she heard them singing.

Samuel came around the back of Steven’s wagon, a soil test kit in hand. Five-year-old Isaac was right behind him, carrying a spade. Samuel glanced up, and a brief smile greeted her.

Despite her concerns about the buds, she couldn’t manage to dampen her smile while going toward them. Soon she pulled the rig to a stop. “The soil-testing project is a family affair, I see.”

The dogs jumped down and began hopping about and scuffling with each other.

“Phoebe’s not feeling well,” Steven volunteered. “And Leah continues to search for the containers to make coddling moth traps. I didn’t expect to see you until supper.”

“Landon and I are planting trees, and Ziggy’s barking gave you away.”

Steven nodded.

“Samuel,” Arie called,
“mich kumm raus.”
She waved her little arms, adding to her plea for Samuel to free her from the confines of the wagon.

“Ya, you can come out.” He turned his back and leaned against the wagon. Arie looped her arms around his neck from behind, and he twirled her around once before stooping until her feet touched the ground. She clapped her hands. “
Singe. Singe.”

Casey held up her Winnie-the-Pooh book, pressing a button on it that made a tune ring out. She bobbed her little head up and down. Apparently she knew exactly what Arie was saying.

Samuel looked a bit sheepish.
“Alleweil?”
he said to Arie, clearly uncomfortable that they wished him to sing. “Now?” he repeated in English to Casey.

The girls squealed loudly, each begging in her own language for him to sing.

He glanced at Rhoda, shaking his head. “I have a fan club.”

“I see that.” How many times had he sung this song to them today?

He drew a breath and sang the song about the chubby little cubby being stuffed with fluff.

Arie danced around, singing it in English as best she could. Casey remained silent, watching Samuel with cautious delight.

Rhoda had to turn her back for a few moments to keep from laughing out loud.

“Kumm.” Arie motioned for Casey. The two girls seemed to have no problem playing together even though neither spoke the other’s language.

Casey eyed Samuel as she eased to the side of the wagon. He smiled, acting like he had nothing better to do than help children enjoy their day. Casey put her fingers on his face.

“Yes.” Samuel remained still while the little girl ran her hand over his forehead.
“I favor Jacob. Not enough to pass for him but enough to confuse you.” He touched the end of her nose. “Want down?”

She looked at the horse before she backed up, shaking her head.

“Just as well.” Steven motioned to his daughter. “Arie, kumm.”

Arie held her arms up to Samuel. He lifted her and received a hug and kiss before he deposited her into the safety of the wagon. The scene stirred Rhoda. Children were such a gift, and to see them in this orchard, embracing the day alongside family and loved ones, made her yearn for years and years of it. For the first time in what seemed like forever, a desire for children and a future took hold of her.

“Du gut?” Samuel asked. Arie nodded. “There you go.” Samuel helped the girls get situated so the bumpiness of the wagon wouldn’t tussle them about. He then covered their legs with a blanket. It appeared that he’d had practice doing this today.

Steven released the brake. “We need to ride up a piece and get more soil samples. We’ll be back in a few.” He turned to Isaac.
“Witt geh?”

Isaac clutched Samuel’s hand.
“Nee.”
Surely Steven knew that Isaac preferred to be Samuel’s shadow when allowed.

“I’ll watch him,” Samuel offered. Rhoda expected Jacob to return home anytime now, and because of that, she was glad everyone wasn’t dispersing. Hopefully, Steven would return as quickly as he’d indicated. She’d rather not be seen in a field alone with Samuel, but she needed to talk to him.

Arie’s face clouded, and Samuel propped his arms on the sides of the wagon, telling her she should stay with her friend, that she could come with him another day. She grinned and nodded.

Rhoda’s niece blew kisses to her as they rode away. Casey giggled and followed suit.

He chuckled. “They’re quite sweet, but they behave like three-year-olds. Excited about life one minute while crying over a piece of graham cracker falling out of the wagon the next.”

“At least they have an excuse.” Rhoda blew them a final kiss. “They’re acting their age.”

“True. But when Casey was finally willing to get close, she did that face-poking thing a dozen times without ever letting me lift her out of the wagon. She’s a thinker. Arie seems to be one to dive in first and reconsider later. It’s interesting. I wonder if it’s their lifelong personalities already peeking through.”

“Got me. We’ll just have to find out as time goes on. So where’s Iva?”

“In the office organizing the personal and business mail into folders so she and I can go through as much as possible as quickly as possible later on. She’s also making you a folder so you and I can go through that at some point. Since she’s not fond of the outdoors, I’m not sure how great she’ll be in the orchard, but she seems remarkable at handling paperwork.”

“Maybe she’ll be remarkable in helping with the canning this fall.”

“I hope so. Otherwise she’s really not needed, is she?”

If that’s how he felt after Iva had been here for almost two weeks, Rhoda wasn’t sure Jacob’s hopes would come to fruition. An unwelcome question tumbled through her. How long had he and Rhoda worked together before he felt attracted to her?

“Don’t you dare go there,” she whispered.

He studied her.

“Sorry. I was talking to myself that time.” She shuddered. “When will you have the soil test results?”

“I’m not sure. I have to mail them in, and I hope to hear back within a couple of weeks.” He pulled a fallen branch from the tree. “We might need to add some specific nutrients when we get the results.” He tossed it to the ground. “How have things been with Camilla and Bob since I left the other night?”

It was nice of him to ask, but why did it feel so … wrong? “Gut. They seem to accept that I made a mistake and have dropped the subject.”

“And you?”

She wanted to tell him how much difference their talk had made for her and ask a few questions, but it seemed inappropriate. Isaac grabbed the stick Samuel had tossed to the ground and whipped it through the air. The dogs danced around the end of it, trying to catch it.

Samuel touched the top of the boy’s black felt hat. “Whoa.” He gestured
farther out, and Isaac took numerous giant steps away from them, counting aloud as he went.

“I’m much better. I talked to Daed for a long time, and I invited him to visit. He’s too busy right now, and I’m hoping he doesn’t come until everything is settled with Jacob.” She cradled a budding branch. “It’s too early for this, isn’t it?”

“Ya.”

As soon as he answered, anxiety rippled through her.

“Ziggy!” He clapped his hands once, and the dog calmed its frenzied play before knocking Isaac down. “According to what I read in the paper yesterday, the apple trees in Maine almost never bud this early. We could be in for a fight if it frosts in the next few weeks.”

“Fight?” The word eased some of her tension. “How?”

“We build fires in containers using wood, coal, and oil. Smoke, air matter, carbon dioxide, and water vapor mix to hold a smog-like barrier that’ll keep the heat we create hovering around the trees. As long as the temperature is at thirty-two degrees or below, we’ll have to man the fires around the clock.”

“What are our chances of winning?”

“Anytime there’s a freeze after budding, we lose a percentage. I can’t say how large a percentage—maybe as little as ten or as much as ninety. The outcome depends on too many factors.” His even-toned voice projected peace.

She stared at him. “You say that as if it’s no big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal. Possibly the life or death of Kings’ Orchard Maine. We’ll fight until we win … or lose. But all we can do is our best. I don’t know what else to tell you.” He gazed up at the sky and pointed. A hawk soared across the powder blue expanse. “I hope he and all his relatives nest nearby. He would be a good help against rodents.”

She wasn’t interested in where the hawk lived, and she put the back of her fingers on her forehead. “Check yourself for a fever. You’re way too calm.”

“No need.” He removed his hat. “I’m not calm. I’m determined. But what would you have me do?”

“I guess I expected to see anger or fear in your eyes.”

“I think I’m drained of it for now. We worked so hard, and then the tornado came through. Another huge blow was when Jacob …” He shook his head.

She could imagine several things Jacob had said or done that had exhausted him.

“Anyway.” Samuel removed his gloves and put them in his pocket. “I walked these fields last night, absorbing the serene beauty while thinking and praying, and I saw the need to keep it all in perspective. If we lose this year’s crop, I try again.”

“We.”

A hint of something flickered across his face. Maybe doubt?

“We.”

But she wasn’t sure he believed that.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Where would Kings’ Orchard be if you hadn’t entered our lives? No orchard or crop would mean anything if death had stolen my family or”—he stared at the buds on a nearby branch, clearly struggling to speak his mind—“you.”

Her heart raced as he shared his deepest, most hidden thoughts. Jacob must have told him that she’d sent Jacob to get everyone out of the house and into the cellar while she searched for Samuel in the orchard.