For Every Season (24 page)

Jacob took a drink from his water bottle. “I didn’t know until later that neither the quality of the deck I designed nor the bolts had anything to do with the deck falling. When I found out that the nuts hadn’t been attached to the bolts, I realized the fault was negligence by the finishing crew and the inspector.”

“If you left within an hour of the deck falling, how do you know that piece of information?”

“About a year later I used a phone with an unlisted number and called one of the men I had worked with. I lied about where I was, claiming to be in California, and I asked about the outcome of the deck falling. He told me what an insurance adjuster had told him, and he said the man wanted to talk to me. He gave me the man’s phone number. I assured him I’d call, but I never did.”

Actually, now that Jacob thought about it, he remembered feeling almost obsessed to remain in hiding. It’d been immature of him, but after the deck collapse and the company being investigated because of it, he simply returned to his family and hid from the rest of the world, hoping the mistakes of his past would never catch up with him.

One of the attorneys studied another document. “Did you return to Virginia Beach at any point after the deck fell?”

“Two or three days later.”

“Why?”

Jacob paused. “It was apparent that Blaine’s wife needed to go into hiding, but that had nothing to do with the construction company.”

“Why did Sandra McAlister need to go into hiding?”

“She said she’d borrowed money from some loan sharks and couldn’t repay it. Blaine disappeared, leaving her with nothing.”

According to both Craig’s and Tony’s instructions before the deposition, Jacob had to answer the questions based solely on what he knew at the time. But the truth was, he never
knew
anything for certain. That’s the thing about lies—once inside the storm, even the liars aren’t sure what is and isn’t true.

The lawyer laid a hospital receipt in front of him. “While in Virginia Beach and helping Sandra McAlister move, you were injured. How did that happen?”

It rattled Jacob to realize just how much these people knew about him. “I had her and her baby girl packed and ready to go when two men showed up. She said they were the loan sharks, wanting the money she owed them. I tried to reason with them. I offered to pay her debt over time, but they wouldn’t hear of it. I ended up fighting them while she fled with Casey.”

The questions went on and on, and Jacob was feeling increasingly disgusted with himself. He could barely hold his head up. He’d known back then that he should have talked to the police, to the insurance adjuster, to the families of the women who had died.

But he hadn’t.

As the meeting came to a close, he remained still while the other lawyers and the court reporter packed up and left.

Tony turned to him. “You okay?”

The same words kept circling inside Jacob over and over. He stared at the table. “I knew those women had died, and I left. I just left. There are no excuses, no reasons that hold up.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault. We have proof of that. There was nothing you could have done to prevent their deaths.”

Jacob knew better. Did the lawyer know it too but just didn’t want to say it to Jacob’s face? Jacob could have helped put Blaine in jail a year earlier, and that deck never would’ve been built. Those women would still be alive.

Tony put the rest of the papers into his briefcase and closed it. “Life is murky at best, especially when you’re an inexperienced teen. That’s all you were when you met Blaine.” He headed for the door and motioned for Jacob to follow. “There will be two wrongful death trials, one for each woman. You may be called to testify at both. How much of those trials will be covered in the papers I can’t say, but you need to be prepared.”

Prepared
.

He and Tony walked down the tiled corridors of the huge building.

Each time Rhoda had learned a new piece to the story, she’d taken it in stride. But Jacob hated the idea of returning home with another grievous aspect to explain. He’d tried to tell her everything last October, within a week of moving to Maine, but she’d stopped him, saying she couldn’t bear to hear any more. Since that’s how she felt, maybe he shouldn’t try to bring it up again.

Tony pushed the button to the elevator. “I’ve been doing this awhile, and you’re taking this harder than you should.”

“I’ll be fine.” Jacob stepped into the elevator. Despite his words he didn’t feel fine. By coming here he’d done what he needed to do. So why couldn’t he breathe?

“You’re free, Jacob. You went home for all the wrong reasons. Now you’ve set everything right, and you can do whatever you want—as long as the courts and I have a way to reach you.”

He nodded, but as he stood inside the elevator, he continued to fight a suffocating feeling as the walls seemed to close in on him. The doors opened, and the two men left the elevator and walked through the echoing halls until they stepped onto the sidewalk.

A banging sound reverberated through the air, and Jacob paused, a smile embracing his lips as the word
freedom
rang inside him. He couldn’t see anyone, but somewhere nearby construction workers were hammering away—building or remodeling something far more lasting than any work he did when farming.

Could he do some of both?

TWENTY-TWO

Brisk air filled Samuel’s lungs as he chucked another piece of wood into the back of the wagon. It’d be dark again in a few hours, and then the temperature would drop quickly. Around lunchtime they’d banked the embers and taken a much-needed break while the sun warmed the earth to thirty-four degrees.

Now they were stoking the embers and adding fuel to the fires again.

“Samuel!”

He looked up to find Rhoda holding a lunchpail.

Speaking of stoking embers and adding fuel to the fire …

“Ya?”

Considering the way he’d pulled her into his arms that day, she probably thought he lusted after her. But it wasn’t that at all. That had been a moment of temporary insanity, a moment of weakness after months of being near her night and day.

He was sane now, and he’d accept being ignored or tossed aside as need be, as long as he didn’t interfere with her happiness.
That
was not lust. Still, he had more than a fair share of desire for her—desire to marry and have children with her, to cherish her and grow old with her. Instead, he would, by sheer force of will, wrestle desire into silence, leaving only prayers and friendship.

But it would take a while.

“Feels odd not to have at least one dog at my heels.” She came to a halt near him.

He knew she’d put them inside to rest. With people working in the field around the clock last night and hauling wood in the wagons, the dogs never stood still. They stayed right beside the workers.

She glanced at the dwindling stack of wood. “Sorry to disrupt your work, but I have news, good and bad. Which do you prefer first?”

He scowled as he grabbed a split log in each hand and tossed them into the wagon. “What I’d prefer is for you not to have any bad news.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job?” He stopped and stared at her. “If bringing bad news is your job, please vacate Kings’ Orchard Maine … right after you spend all night helping fight the frost.”

“We need a better name for this farm, something more befitting.”

“Is that the good news?”

“No, that’s a long-overdue observation.”

He tossed more wood into the wagon. “Ever heard the phrase ‘one thing at a time’? You should try it. I believe it’d keep you from dragging me down that meandering path inside your head.”

She studied him, a gentle smile drawing him like a moth to the flame. “This”—she held up the lunchpail—“is the bad news. Camilla had hoped to bring by a pot of lobster stew on her way to somewhere. She said she’d pass right by here.” Rhoda shrugged. “Maybe she’s just running late, but since we’re about to be in the fields for the night,
this
is what’s for dinner.”

Ideally one didn’t stay up around the clock working in the cold without being fed really well, so in that sense it was bad news. “I don’t mind even a little. How’s Phoebe?”

The sadness in Rhoda’s eyes tightened his heart. Should he have asked, trying to ease her grief, or said nothing and helped her not think about it? That seemed to be the age-old question when it came to sorrow, and he didn’t know the answer.

Rhoda put her hands in her coat pockets. “It’ll take a little time.”

“Sure. I told Steven as much. But when you can, assure him that he should stay in with her tonight as much as she needs him.”

“I will. Denki.” She set his lunch on the back of the wagon. “You have mail from someone in my old hometown.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a letter.

“Ah, the real bad news, eh?” He took it from her, half expecting it to be
from her church leaders. He’d caused quite a stir when he’d accused that wretch Rueben Glick of tearing up Rhoda’s fruit garden. Samuel had wanted justice for her, but he’d made only a little headway that night. At least many within her district saw her in a better light, and he’d managed to make it clear that Rueben had probably engaged in acts of vandalism against at least one other girl in Rhoda’s district.

The letter was a thank-you note from the girl Rueben had harassed. It’d been six months since then. Why had she waited so long? He folded it and put it back into its envelope.

“You don’t look as if it was bad news.”

He wanted to tease her by dangling the letter just out of her reach. If she tried to grab it, he’d pull it away. The temptation to be too friendly often reared its head when least expected.

Instead, he passed her the letter and sat on the back of the wagon and opened the lunchpail.

“This is a thank-you note.” She continued reading. “A really nice one. You probably skimmed too much. I think Iva may have some competition, because this young woman sounds positively smitten.”

“Six months after the fact?” Samuel took a bite of a roast beef sandwich.

“Maybe she’s just now getting up the courage. She’s really shy, and I’m sure it took her quite a while to put Rueben’s harassment into perspective before writing you.”

He pulled a thermos out of the pail. “That’s two women down. Ninety-eight more to hire.”

“That’s still the plan? We’ll have to make a lot of money before we can do that, which leads us to the good news.” She pulled a crumpled newspaper section out of her coat pocket. “The cold front should be gone by noon tomorrow.”

He kept a straight face. “I looked for that paper hours ago.” The desire to call her a thief and hear her laugh was appealing, but he stayed true to his course.

She remained standing, keeping her distance. “I think one of the children must have picked it up. I found it scattered across the kitchen floor.”

Oh, how he wanted to tease her that she was blaming the children. “I’m glad you found it and took the time to bring it to me.” Samuel poured some coffee into the thermos lid.

She shoved the paper and letter back into her coat. “Do you have the honeybee man lined up to bring out the hives?”

“Since the day we closed on the farm.”

“What about—”

A horrific blast vibrated the air around them.

Rhoda spun. “What was
that
?”

Samuel tossed the food and coffee to the ground. Where were the children? Had someone left gasoline or lighters near one of the barrels? “Did it come from the road or the orchard?”

“I’m not sure.”

The dogs howled from inside the house.

Samuel headed for the house. “Get a couple of the bridled horses from the barn.” When he opened the front door to let out the dogs, he spotted both children playing in the floor. Relief washed over him.

Ziggy and Zara dashed out the door, ran in circles, and then took off down the road.

Rhoda hurried out of the barn, leading both horses. “Orchard?”

“Nee, and Arie and Isaac are inside. It may’ve been a wreck.” He interlaced his fingers and gave her a hand up before pulling himself onto the other horse. “The dogs are heading that way.”

Rhoda spurred the horse. Since he was a better horseman, he could have overtaken her, but he stayed behind as the horses galloped down the road. After about a half mile he could see a car in a ditch.

She turned, alarm etched on her face. “It’s Camilla! And a utility pole is down.” She dug her heels into the horse, slapping the reins against its side.

“Whoa! Rhoda, stop!” There were live wires on Camilla’s car. If Rhoda ran to the car, she could be electrocuted. He urged his horse to go faster. “Rhoda! Stop!”

But she didn’t seem to hear him.

He maneuvered his horse in front of hers and braced himself for the collision. “Stop!”

She brought her horse to a halt. “What is
wrong
with you?” She slid off her horse and ran toward the car. Samuel jumped down and grabbed her while she was in midstride, picking her up off her feet. He hauled her several feet back from the accident.

“Let go of me!”

Her emotions had the better of her, and he wasn’t surprised that she fought so hard to rush to her friend’s side.

“For Pete’s sake, woman,
stay
!” He held her with both arms. A wildcat would be easier to wrestle with. He had no idea she had such physical strength. “Rhodes, it’s too dangerous.”

“She needs our help.”

“You can’t help. Not yet. We’ll get help for her!” He grabbed her face. “Look at me!” He shouted it again and again. Finally her eyes moved from the scene of the wreck to him. “That’s it.” He pointed to his eyes. “Right here. Look right here.”

She nodded. Her eyes focused on his.

“Do you have your two-way?”

“A what?”

His words weren’t registering. He put his forehead against hers. “Breathe.”

She relaxed a bit. “Camilla.” Tears welled, and she tried again to head for the car.

He held her firm. “I know. But, Rhoda, those are live wires. We could be injured if we aren’t careful, and that will help no one.”