For Every Season (20 page)

Landon’s smile indicated he was up for Leah’s challenge. He popped his knuckles. “She has a license.” He leaned in. “You know, read the manual, knows the laws, has experience. The kind of thing that’s important before letting someone get behind the wheel of your vehicle.”

Leah arched an eyebrow. “Nevertheless, you
will
pay.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Of course I will.”

“So”—Sandra ran her fingers through her hair—“where am I going?”

Sandra’s voice was loud, and Iva covered her lips with her index finger. “
You
should get an idea of what state, but tell no one.” Iva deadeyed her. “No one. We’ll figure out the rest as we go. That way if an attorney asks Jacob if he
knows anyone who knows where you are, he can honestly say no. I’ll show up one day, and we’ll get you moved.” Iva played with the condensation on her glass. “But wherever you go, they’ll require deposits and such. Is there money for that?”

Rhoda’s eyes moved to Samuel’s. Without so much as a whisper between them, he seemed to understand what she was thinking. He nodded, and her smile reflected approval. Sometimes, like now, Iva had a hard time distinguishing who Rhoda favored—Jacob or Samuel.

Samuel stood. “Ya, we can get the money to do this. Is this the plan?”

All eyes turned to Rhoda, so Iva looked to her too.

Rhoda took a deep breath. “This is a good plan, Iva, and it warms my heart that you’d be willing to take such a risk just to help us.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “But this is a huge, intimidating task. Why would you want to do this?”

“So far I’ve been of no real help around here, other than giving Phoebe a hand with some chores and going through the mail. The office work will be caught up soon, so this is my chance to show you I’m valuable in all sorts of ways. I hope it will make you want to keep me around for months yet. If you do, I’ll have even more time to prove my value. On top of that, what you see as intimidating, I see as great opportunities to photograph so much more than my community in Indiana and around here.”

“Good answers.” Rhoda nodded. “Really, they are, but I think all of us, including you, should take a few days to think this over before we commit to it.”

Everyone nodded, apparently seeing it as reasonable, but Iva was a little disappointed that Rhoda didn’t support the idea then and there. It was a good, solid one.

Did Rhoda not trust her?

Rain poured off the end of Jacob’s winter hat as he stooped to grab the morning paper from the cracked concrete driveway. Samuel usually had it snagged by this time. Where was his brother anyway?

Suspicion tried to lay hold of him. Jacob wasn’t very good at refusing distrust
the power to turn him into a paranoid suitor. Still, he and Rhoda were doing very well, and he and Samuel were trying to mend the gash between them.

He removed the plastic cover from the newspaper and shoved it into his pocket. One glance at the headline—“The Frost Man Cometh”—roiled frustration within him.

It was the last day of April, and they were facing a frost in May!

This
is why he hated farming. They could work around the clock for eleven months, and a few nights of freezing temperatures could undermine everything in a matter of hours. As could powerful winds, a warm winter, rain during pollinating season, and a number of other acts of nature.

According to the paper, when the rains moved out, freezing temperatures would swoop through the Pine Tree State. Freezing weather in Orchard Bend wasn’t uncommon this time of year. Budding trees were.

He headed for the office. If Samuel wasn’t there, he would leave the paper on his desk. Samuel would go there before he went to supper.

Jacob dreaded sharing this news. This kind of weather was why his first love was construction work, even with its seasonal ups and downs. His pleasure in carpentry had been taken from him through the jumble of misdeeds and poor management by Jones’ Construction. But after he’d known Rhoda for only a few weeks, she had begun helping him fight the battle against his truckload of guilt. She had helped him work through his reservations and slowly learn to love having a hammer in his hand again. The fact that she made it possible for him to heal, albeit without knowing about the two fatalities that resulted from the collapse of a deck he had built, gave a picture of who they were together—strong but silent on a lot of subjects.

Building houses, hotels, apartments, stores, offices, and whatever had its own set of challenges, but a carpenter’s work had a definite final outcome. Really bad weather could put a crew behind. But a few nights of freezing temperatures at an odd time of year meant very little, and it certainly didn’t wreck months and months of hard work. Even if something as disruptive and destructive as a tornado came through, the workers were paid for every hour they’d worked.

When he stepped into the barn, he heard soft voices talking and laughing. He jerked open the office door.

Iva and Samuel looked up.

“You startled me.” Iva pressed a hand to her throat.

But the look on Samuel’s face said he knew why Jacob had purposely burst into the room.

“Sorry.” Jacob relaxed his fists. “Why was the door shut?”

“Oh,”—Iva went to the file cabinet—“Ziggy and Zara smell like dogs tend to when they’re wet, and I shooed them out and closed it. I’m surprised they’re not trying to follow you in.”

“They probably went looking for Rhoda”—Samuel punched several numbers on a calculator—“who’s sure to be in one of the greenhouses.” He grabbed an opened envelope from the desk. “I sold two acres, with Daed’s approval, and this is the agreement with the buyer. We’ll get the check as soon as it’s surveyed and I write up a bill of sale.”

“I know that was hard to do.” Jacob doubted anyone knew it more than he did. Before Rhoda, Samuel saved without spending, and no matter how tight money got, he’d never been willing to sell an inch of property, let alone two acres. Was he going to do so now because of the feelings he had for her or because of the businesses they were trying to launch with her?

Samuel looked at the envelope. “He’d love to buy more land later on, if I’ll sell it, but two acres is all I can stand to part with and all he can afford right now. The economy’s taken a toll on him too. But the money from those acres should give us enough to pay the bills, rent a house with a kitchen you can update, plus cover the supplies and the pickers.”

“There may not be money for
all
that.” Jacob unfolded the newspaper and set it in front of Samuel. “The fight begins.”

Samuel pulled the paper closer. “I knew a week ago this was a possibility. Since then close to seventy-five percent of the orchard has blossomed. You’re right, Jacob. The battle will start within twelve hours of the rain moving out.”

Iva pulled a folder from the cabinet. “All hands on deck. All prayers appreciated.” She gave Jacob an apologetic shrug. “It’s something my mother used to say at times like this.”

Samuel didn’t look up from the paper, but Jacob was sure he wasn’t feeling well. After numerous times of being tempted to sell an acre or two over the years, Samuel had finally done it, only to be faced with needing more money for far more than debts and the cost of remodeling a canning kitchen.

Samuel took a deep breath. “We can do this.” He tapped the desk in front of him, fingers splayed. Iva put a pen directly in his path. He grabbed it and circled several pieces of information. Jacob liked how well Iva and Samuel were getting along.

He took a seat. “You two seem to work together efficiently.”

Iva tapped her chest. “I work. He plays.”

Jacob propped his feet on the desk. “Sounds about right to me.” He missed those times when his attraction to Rhoda was free of disappointment and heartache. Those first few months were so blissful, even after the tornado in Pennsylvania. They didn’t hit a rough patch until Sandra needed him on the same night Rhoda had to face her church leaders. Samuel went in his stead. That was the beginning of Jacob’s past slowly and painfully revealing itself to her. The beginning of not being who she needed him to be and trying to make it up to her.

Samuel frowned, never lifting his eyes from the paper. “Maine’s weather pattern this year has been so unpredictable—mild when it should’ve been howling snow, warm when it should’ve been freezing, and now several frosty nights predicted for the first week of May.”

Iva grabbed a notepad and laid it beside Samuel. “What’s the plan?”

Samuel tapped the paper with his pen. “If we all work together, and if the temperature doesn’t drop below twenty-nine, which is what they’re predicting, we may lose only ten to fifteen percent of the crop. We have ten smudge pots in the hayloft.”

Iva frowned. “We have what?”

“It’s an oil-burning device. The fuel is in the bottom, and there’s a long chimney neck where the fire burns. It creates a type of smog. The ones in the loft belonged to our grandfather. They’re about four feet high. We’ll use them, but that’s not nearly enough for an orchard this size. Despite my best efforts over the last week, we still don’t have enough fifty-five-gallon drums. So getting more of those, along with plenty of wood, is our first—”

The phone rang, and Samuel paused to pick up the receiver. “Kings’ Orchard Maine.” He listened for a moment, and soon his eyes reflected angst. “Hang on, please.” He held the phone out to Jacob. “It’s your lawyer’s secretary. She has a deposition date for you.”

Jacob moaned.
Not now!
Surely he could help battle the frost before having to leave for Virginia. But then an issue even more pressing came to the forefront—getting Sandra somewhere without him knowing where.

He pushed mute. “Has Rhoda indicated what she thinks of the plan?” Not that he actually knew what the plan was, only that Rhoda had asked for some time to think it over.

“Not that I know of.” Samuel gestured toward Iva. “You?”

She shook her head. “I told her I was comfortable moving forward, and she thanked me, but she was still unsure.”

“Everyone else is on board with the plan?”

Samuel nodded. “Appears so.”

Jacob had been patient and supportive these last six days, trying to free Rhoda’s mind and heart so she could figure out what needed to be done. Apparently that hadn’t helped. Did Rhoda not understand how important it was that Sandra have someone to support her as she was uprooted again? That little bit of emotional encouragement of not having to do this on her own could mean the difference between her coping and her spiraling into a complete depression. Sandra could disappear for a long time, but he didn’t doubt she’d show up again. But when? And with how much damage inflicted on Casey’s soul in the process?

Jacob fidgeted with the phone, ready to get back to the call. “I’ve been trying to nudge Rhoda to figure out how she feels about Iva’s plan, but it hasn’t worked.”

Iva moved to a chair. “Since she needs to keep the plan from you, maybe you’re the wrong person to get her to decide.”

“Maybe so. I hadn’t thought of that. Her mood’s been reflective and unsure. If she gets emotionally charged, like when the tornado came through, she’s completely positive about what needs to be done.”

Samuel closed the newspaper. “I don’t think her instincts work like that.”

“It’s worth a try. I can’t go to Virginia knowing where Sandra is going to be, and letting her strike out on her own would be a huge mistake.”

“Try what?” Samuel asked.

Jacob pointed to the paper. “While she’s absorbing the bad news about the weather, ask her about Iva’s plan.”

Samuel looked at her. “He just doesn’t want to be the one to tell his girlfriend the frost man cometh.”

She smiled at Samuel, an intimate smile, Jacob thought.

“Ya. Okay, but I doubt I use that weather report like you’re thinking.” Samuel gestured impatiently. “Answer the phone already.”

He unmuted the phone. “This is Jacob …”

SEVENTEEN

Rhoda sat on the floor of the playroom, reading to Arie while Isaac trotted about the room astride a stick horse. Rain pattered against the windows, and Phoebe was in the next room, lying down with a wet washcloth pressed to her lips. The farm itself felt welcoming of her—apple trees as far as the eye could see, a barn with livestock, a kitchen with a fire to knock the edge off the chill and plenty of food for all, the laughter of children, and squabbles inside an old house that had been home to at least a half-dozen generations.

These past few hours of enjoying the homey side of living had warmed Rhoda’s heart like adding wood to banked embers. This was what she wanted from life—to enjoy the beauty and power of being alive. She’d spent too much of her life trying to pacify others while having to sneak around to follow her intuitions.

Samuel was right—God hadn’t asked any of them whether He should give Rhoda a gift of insight. He’d simply done it to a girl living inside one of the most conservative Christian groups on the planet. And now she finally felt as if she could accept the oddity of it and stop questioning her motives.

“Rhodes?” Jacob called through the walkie-talkie.