For Every Season (39 page)

The good news was that Steven had spent tireless hours on the phone with her Daed. She’d never seen a more kindhearted, patient man than Steven, and he’d finally won her Daed’s approval. Because the thriving business needed her, Iva could stay here—as long as she sent half her salary home to help with the family’s needs. Iva didn’t care about the money. Her Daed could have all of it, but Steven said she needed to keep her portion.

Steven Byler, champion of women, especially his own wife. His daughter, Arie, was a very blessed little girl. How different would Iva’s life be if her Daed valued her that same way?

Jacob pushed a shovel blade into a pile of gravel in a wheelbarrow and tossed it onto what appeared to be nothing but ground. She zoomed in on him until she could see the sweat glistening on his forearms and soaking through his pale blue shirt. She might have to delete these, but she couldn’t resist taking them.

With the scope of the camera, she could see a concrete border around a cleared square of dirt with plastic over it. A pile of half-broken boards lay to one side, and a large heap of gravel was beside it.

So this was the early stage of construction? With the naked eye it wasn’t much to look at, but through her camera lens—fascinating. She made her way up the gravel lane, taking dozens of shots. Since she hadn’t uploaded any images to Landon’s computer in a while, she could only hope her memory card didn’t get full. It would hold about seven hundred images, but when one didn’t own a computer or have easy access to a photo center, that wasn’t a lot of space.

She zoomed in on a stack of lumber. This building site would be a great place for taking photos next week. That’s when Rhoda’s and Jacob’s families would arrive, along with his uncle’s construction crew. She could already feel the thrill of taking pictures of their work—in the early morning light, as a summertime thunderstorm approached, as the moon rose over the apple trees. She’d have to be discreet and avoid getting their faces, but she’d learned long ago how to capture the heart of an event without crossing a line.

Oh, this is what life was meant to be—fresh, exuberating visions to be captured by a camera.

Gravel crunched under her feet as she walked down the long driveway, snapping more pictures. Jacob didn’t look up. Could he not hear her over his shoveling?

Two pipes stood erect inside the border. She focused on them—nasty looking, really. One was probably four inches in diameter, caked in dirt and
mud, with some type of cap on top. How did something so hideous become a part of a place that would be filled with delicious aromas and spices?

The plan for her to work in this kitchen with Leah and Landon was daunting at best. But it also meant freedom, and even though months of long, hot days in a kitchen wasn’t her dream job, it was exciting to be a part of a new business.

She lifted the camera, taking more shots. Her feet smacked into something hard, and she fell forward. “My camera!”

A blur surrounded her, but a pair of strong hands eased her fall right before her face struck the ground. Her knees screamed in pain, as did an elbow.

“Iva?” Jacob righted her to a sitting position.
“Bischt du allrecht?”

Her hands shook as she inspected her camera. “I’m fine.” When she couldn’t find a scratch on the camera, she looked up. “Denki.” She’d landed inside his concrete border onto what eventually would be the floor.

“You’re bleeding.” He pointed at her elbow.

“I’ll heal. You saved the important part.”

“Your camera?” He held out his hand.

She grabbed his hand, her knees yelling at her as she rose to her feet. Hopefully the faux sincerity she was about to inflect would bring a smile to him. “Oh, no. I meant the dirt-and-gravel floor.”

He laughed. “What?”

Pleased with herself, she knocked the dirt off her apron. “May I sit on this border?”

“Border?” His laughter returned before motioning for her to sit. “It’s a footer. You’ll hear it referred to as the foundation when the crews arrive.”

“Footer is a gut word for it. I ran my footer into it, and it knocked me off my feeter.”

“And onto your kneezers.”

She sat. “Oh, a letter came for you today.” She dug it out of her pocket and held it up.

“Envelope removed, I see. Have I mentioned lately that I appreciate what you’re doing to help us?”

Late at night, just before she would drift off to sleep, thoughts niggled their way free of the place she hid them during waking hours. She hadn’t helped move Sandra just because she wanted to prove she was worth keeping as a hired worker. If Jacob believed in this cause with Sandra, Iva believed it too.

She turned off her camera to save the battery. At least the solar panels outside Rhoda’s greenhouses were hooked to a small converter, which gave her a way to recharge it.

“I was concerned for a little bit that maybe I was doing something wrong by helping to hide Sandra.”

He lowered the pages of the letter. “I didn’t realize that, although I guess I should have considered it. Do we need to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “If you think it’s wise and necessary, I trust that.”

His face didn’t yield to a smile, but his green eyes reflected appreciation before he went back to reading the letter from Sandra. “She sounds surprisingly peaceful and maybe even happy.”

“You’d like where she is. I think she does too.”

“Look.” He held up a piece of white paper with colored scribbles. “Casey drew me a picture. Sandra wrote that Casey says she loves me and misses me every second of every day.”

His faint smile warmed Iva’s heart.

“I can’t wait until all this cloak-and-dagger stuff is behind me.” He folded the letter and shoved it into his pocket. “Denki.”

“Anytime.” She began reviewing the images on her camera just to be sure it hadn’t taken an unnoticed hit. “So if I pose a question extremely politely, do you mind answering it?”

“Can’t imagine why I would.” Jacob picked up his shovel and moved back to his pile of gravel.

“You’ve been working out here for three weeks, from right after breakfast until dark, ya?”

“Ya.” He dug the shovel into the wheelbarrow of gravel.

“Rhoda, Leah, or Phoebe brings food to you.”

“Ya.”

She kept scrolling through her images. Some were really good. “So why is this tiny bit of work all you’ve gotten done?”

Gravel thudded near her, some of it hitting her shoes.

She jumped up. “What’d you do that for?”

“That was a politely worded question?” He chuckled.

“Compared to ‘What in the world have you been doing all these days while I’ve been taking over your jobs on the farm?’ Ya, it was.”

“I see your point. But you don’t understand construction. We had to decide on plans and have them approved by the county before we could get the permits to build. Then the ground had to be leveled.” He moved around, pointing as he spoke. “I set the pipe, dug the footers by hand, and installed the form boards and steel. Mixed and poured the concrete. And while that cures, I’ve set the ground covering, and now I’m adding a layer of gravel.”

As he talked and showed her around, she was surprised he’d gotten as far as he had. “That’s it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Listen, Iva Lambright, I know your Achilles heel. It’s wrapped around your little neck, and if you want to keep it safe, I’d apologize if I were you.”

“This is what a man looks like right before he smashes the prized possession of a homeless waif.” She took a picture of him. “Come any closer, and I’ll say it’s one of you as you reached to smash my camera.”

He shook his head and began shoveling again. “You should go home and have those cuts tended to.”

“And if I wasn’t injured, would you say what you really mean? You should go home.”

He didn’t glance her way, but his smile was undeniable. “Something like that. As far as progress on this job goes, you’ll see a lot once the families get here. It won’t take us more than a few days to dry the place in. For you learners that means framing the exterior and interior walls, decking the roof, adding the subflooring and windows, and hanging the exterior doors. Then comes the finishing work, but the families won’t stay for that.”

“How long will that take?”

“By myself, it would be six months, maybe eight. But my uncle owns a construction company, and in exchange for me coming to work for him after the harvest, he’s going to send some crews in shifts, as needed, until it’s complete. Hopefully, before the harvest begins.”

“Crews?”

“Most carpenters have particular skills, so they move faster and do a better job in those areas. One crew will put up the Sheetrock, and another will finish it. Another does siding, cabinets, flooring, trim work—”

“Got it. So what’s your best area?”

“Lead carpenter. That’s quality control. Squaring buildings. Laying out walls. If in the end something is wrong with any part of the job, it’s my fault. I’m supposed to make sure the job is done right. But in this case, to ensure that we’re building according to code and the law, I’ll work under a licensed contractor, who’ll show up every day to inspect and instruct.”

Even though he’d seemed content enough to farm this land, it was unusual to see this side of Jacob, with a gleam in his eye as he talked. “You love this type of work.”

“I used to. The joy has been pouring back in of late. The mess with Sandra’s husband and the construction company I worked for caused me to hate it. I couldn’t pick up a hammer for years. The thought of it made me sick.”

“Sandra told me about a deck collapsing and two women dying. It broke my heart for those women’s families.”

“Sandra told you?” He seemed taken aback.

“While I was helping her move, ya. I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to know?”

After a moment of silence, he finally sighed. “For a while I thought it was my fault. I’d designed the deck and even helped build it. But then I was called off that site and onto another one a day before we were done.”

“Jacob.” Her hoarse whisper caught his attention, and he quit working. “How awful for you.”

“Not like it was for the families of those women.”

“But for someone as sincere as you, it must have half killed you on the inside.”

His eyes met hers, a rarity for him—although it was typical when he was
looking at Rhoda. “It was a nightmare.” He took off his hat. “Without even knowing about my past, Rhoda helped me move beyond it.”

“How?”

He wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. “I don’t know. There’s a powerful presence about her that I need, just as there is humor in me that she needs.”

“Interesting.” Focusing the lens toward the wooded area, she zoomed in on one spot. “I’d sharpen that wit if I were you.”

“Why’s that?”

Iva spotted what looked to be a belted kingfisher. Was that possible? She eased in that direction, but it flew off before she could get a decent shot.

“Iva?”

“Ya.”

When it landed a few feet farther out, she zoomed in on it.

“Why do you say I need to sharpen my wit?”

“Because, from what I can piece together, Rhoda is leaving everything she loves for you.” She snapped a dozen images, still not sure if it was a belted kingfisher. It flew away, and she lowered her camera and scrolled through the images. “Isn’t she?”

When he said nothing, she looked at him. His hat lay at his feet, and his stricken face stunned her.

She turned off her camera and went to him. “Did I say something wrong?” Her Daed was forever telling her that she didn’t think before she spoke. But what had she said wrong? Surely he knew how Rhoda felt. Or was love that blind?

“No. You’re fine.” He grabbed his hat and put it on before he scooped up another shovelful of gravel.

But if it was fine, why did she feel as if she’d just ripped tape from his eyes?

THIRTY-SIX

Rhoda put fresh sheets on Jacob’s bed while Phoebe dusted his furniture. July’s warmth and mild humidity floated through the open window, as did the sound of black flies and the chirps of a nearby family of cardinals. A scent of honeysuckle clung to the air.

She tucked the edges of the sheet under the mattress. This would become her parents’ bedroom when they arrived. Landon had gone to the train station to get them, her brother John and sister-in-law, and their five children. Even though Landon had borrowed a van that seated ten people, he said that between people and luggage, he didn’t have room for anyone else to go with him to the station.

Jacob’s family would arrive tomorrow.

Two emotions warred within her—joy that her family would arrive soon and grief that in the blink of an eye it would be time for Jacob and her to pack their bags and leave this farm, to return for only a week or so each harvest.

She moved to his window and looked out. She could see the barn, the driveway, and some of the front yard from here. The view from her bedroom window—or rather what was now Iva’s room—was much nicer. But once Samuel and Jacob’s family arrived, Iva and Leah would bunk with Rhoda at the Cranfords’ house.

Phoebe shook a pillow, beating it strongly before plunking it on the bed. “I don’t know how we’re going to feed and house this many people for a week.”

Samuel rounded the back of the barn and went inside the closest door. A dozen emotions, from longing to grief, ripped at Rhoda.

She grabbed the bedspread and moved away from the window. No sense in dwelling on Samuel.

“Steven said the last supply truck arrived at the building site early today. That should be all the supplies the men will need to construct the harvest kitchen.”

Rhoda couldn’t swallow. She could hardly breathe. “That’s gut.” She tossed the cover onto the bed.

Phoebe tugged on the bedspread and slid her hand across it, straightening the last wrinkles. “Ya. With plenty of supplies and food, those men will fly through getting the place dried in.”

Rhoda’s head pounded. “Ya.”

“Before we have communion this Sunday and Steven becomes an official preacher for the Orchard Bend Amish, we’ll see that harvest kitchen dried in and ready for the finishers to begin.” Studying Rhoda, Phoebe worked the kinks out of her back. “Do you need me to keep making silly chitchat, or are you going to do us both a favor and really talk?”