For Every Season (40 page)

Rhoda took the dust mop by the handle and ran it over the floor again. “Chitchat, please.”

“Could you answer one question?”

“Nee, but denki for asking.” Rhoda picked up pieces of dirt from the rug. “Do we need to drag this out to the line and beat it again?”

Phoebe took hold of the mop handle. “Rhoda, please.”

Rhoda relinquished the dust mop and moved to the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to say?”

Phoebe closed the door before sitting next to her. “How about the truth concerning what’s going on?”

Rhoda couldn’t explain, not even to Phoebe or Camilla.

Phoebe put her hand over Rhoda’s. “If you were feeling apprehensive or disappointed about needing to move again, I could find encouragement to share. A man who holds your heart and you want a family with is worth any move. But I think whatever is going on is much, much deeper than packing your bags again.”

Rhoda willed herself to keep her mouth shut. “I love Jacob. I do. But …”

“Ah, so your brother is right.” Phoebe chuckled and put her arm around Rhoda’s shoulders. “He’ll never let me live this down.”

Rhoda fidgeted with the strings to her prayer Kapp. “I don’t understand. Jacob and I began our courtship just head over heels for each other. He’s so good at saying the right things, and he used to make me laugh so easily. Phoebe, he’s so in love. And … I love him too, but … what’s wrong with me?”

“Maybe it’s not you or him.” Phoebe leaned her head against Rhoda’s. “It was unbelievably hard when I lost the baby. We were so excited to be expecting again. The little one was conceived in love, and I take good care of myself. Steven is a really good husband and Daed. None of that was enough. The doctor believes the baby wasn’t healthy enough to cling to life.” Phoebe paused, clearly aiming to get control of her emotions. “Not every relationship, even when started in true love, is strong and healthy enough to last as we believe it should. As we long for it to.”

Phoebe’s comparison was beautiful, and it pierced Rhoda’s heart to see the truth of it.

Someone tapped at the door.

“Kumm.” Phoebe stood.

Iva stepped in, holding out a handful of wildflowers from Phoebe’s garden—purple asters, orange lilies, and white daisies. “I was wondering if you’d like these put in a vase for this room.” The girl’s feet were bare, and she had on a white cotton scarf in place of her prayer Kapp, not uncommon when cleaning house. Her tan skin had a healthy glow.
She
was thriving inside this home. Rhoda felt like a vine withering in a sunbaked drought.

Sweet, sweet Iva. Rhoda’s first concerns about her had been wrong. She was a treasure, not a troublemaker.

Rhoda stood and straightened the bed. “My folks will love them, Iva. Denki.”

“Gut. I thought so.” Iva closed the door, and Rhoda heard her scamper away.

“Rhoda.” Phoebe picked up the dusting rag and swiped it across the top of the window. “We can heal from our losses, but if you marry Jacob for the wrong reasons, you’ll damage both of your lives.”

She was sorry for Phoebe and Steven’s loss, and she didn’t mean to think light of it, but the fact was they would have more children. If Rhoda let Jacob
go, it’d rip his heart out, and she’d end up without anyone. Samuel should know he could never build a lasting relationship with someone who’d once planned to marry his brother. Every time Samuel would try to hold her hand or spread a blanket on a hillside for a picnic or take her for a buggy ride, he’d remember that she did those same things with his brother. And each time it’d put more distance between them until he stopped trying.

She knew that. Maybe Samuel did too. But she and Jacob could build a strong family, filled with faith and happiness. She knew they could.

“It’s ridiculous to care for anyone besides Jacob,” Rhoda whispered. “And I’m not giving in to any temptation that tries to lure me from him.”

Phoebe dusted the tops of the doorframes. “An engagement or even talking of marriage is a commitment, but it’s not a vow made before God. It’s a hope of making that vow, but if it’s no longer a hope, if it’s only uncomfortable determination, is God or man asking you to follow through and take the vow?”

“You’re not hearing me.” Rhoda wiped grime out of the windowsill. “I choose Jacob. What’s more, I love him, and you need to back me up, not fling the barn doors open, encouraging all heathen animals and foolish women to escape.”

“That’s a strange thing to say.” Phoebe tucked the rag and cleaners into a bucket. “I’m not so sure a woman should be kept in a barn with the animals. And a woman would be even more foolish if she didn’t escape when clearly she should. My concern is one day you’ll look back at this time and think, why didn’t I listen to my heart?”

Rhoda tossed her stuff into the bucket. “I am listening to my heart.”

“Maybe. Your heart aches for Jacob, and you’re clearly hearing that, but maybe what you’re listening to most of all is your sense of duty.”

Rhoda heard the words
and guilt
as clearly as if Phoebe had said them. But it wasn’t guilt. Well, it wasn’t only duty and guilt. She loved Jacob.

It was a different kind of love than she had for Samuel. Jacob enjoyed her company and loved to make her laugh. But Samuel understood more of her—from her passion for nurturing to her stubbornness that couldn’t let go when facing defeat to the bleakest, loneliest parts of who she was.
Rhoda gave a throw pillow one last fluffing. “Jacob feels as if I’m the support under his feet.”

“What about you, Rhoda?” Phoebe opened the door. “Can you imagine if the bottom dropped out from under you?”

Once Rhoda was on the landing, Iva seemed to come out of nowhere.

She held the vase of flowers. “That was so horrific, and I feel so awful for Jacob.”

“For Jacob?” Rhoda glanced at Phoebe. Just how much had Iva overheard?

“Of course. I mean, what happened to those women and their families was awful, but Jacob’s guilt was just as bad.” Iva took the cleaning items from Phoebe and passed Rhoda the vase. “Is cleaning my room next?”

“Iva,”—Rhoda rubbed a soft petal of a daisy between her fingers—“what do you mean?”

“Ach, did I misunderstand what you were saying? I thought you were talking about Jacob designing and working on that deck that fell, the one where those two women died.”

Died? As if someone were holding her under water, Rhoda couldn’t catch her breath.

Why didn’t she know anything about this part of Jacob’s troubles? No wonder he’d hated carpentry with a passion when she’d first met him. He’d told her about the deck collapsing and many, many other things that she still didn’t have straight inside her head, but he’d never mentioned anyone dying.

Finally she could draw air into her lungs. “He felt responsible.” She was fishing for answers, but it seemed Iva had learned a good bit more than Rhoda had, maybe from her time with Jacob after moving Sandra.

Was Jacob ever going to tell Rhoda everything?

Iva flopped a dust cloth over her shoulder. “Of course he felt responsible. How could he not? The poor man. And when I think of all the time he spent feeling guilty before he learned that it wasn’t his fault, it hurts even me. Sandra said he left town immediately afterward, but if you ask me, he’s just now leaving the grief of it behind him.”

Phoebe passed Iva the dust mop. “Why don’t you start cleaning in your room?”

Rhoda took the vase to the nightstand in Jacob’s room.

Phoebe closed the door. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it—”

Rhoda’s hands shook. “He just left?”
That’s what someone did to Camilla
. Maybe running her off the road had been an accident. Maybe the deck falling hadn’t been Jacob’s fault. But to just leave?

Whether he was there or not, shouldn’t he have gone to the hospital when he learned of the incident and given answers for why a newly built deck fell? To express sorrow to the families for their loss as a man who’d worked for the construction company that built the deck?

That kind of heartfelt response brought healing to those involved in an accident.

She felt sick, not just for herself, but for Jacob. A familiar question circled inside her brain: Did she know him at all? “I’m going to find him. We have to talk before our families—”

A horn blew, and even though the dogs were bedded in the barn office to keep them away from the visitors, she heard them howling. She went to the window. Landon pulled into the driveway with a carload of her loved ones. She closed her eyes, searching for strength.

Phoebe put her hand on her shoulder. “It’ll have to wait. Kumm.” They left the room again.

Leah came out of Phoebe and Steven’s suite with Arie on her hip. “Did I hear a horn?”

“Ya.” Phoebe took Arie.

Isaac stomped down the stairs, yelling for his grandparents the whole way.

Rhoda took a deep breath, steadying her pulse as she followed Phoebe down the stairs. After putting off her parents’ visit until Jacob’s secrets were no longer lurking in corners, she would still have to face her family while trying to cover her thoughts and feelings about him. Could she hide her disappointment and hurt from her family … and from Jacob until a more appropriate time?

Her Daed spotted her the moment she stepped onto the porch. He grinned. “Rhoda!” He opened his arms wide, and she flew into them.

Her tears dampened his neck as she clung to him. Then she hugged her
Mamm, their tears mingling when their cheeks touched. At least for now she could cry with her parents believing they were tears of joy.

Her brother John had a baby carrier in each hand, and his wife, Lydia, had a little one on her hip and two by her skirts. She glanced to Phoebe who was hugging Rhoda’s Mamm. Would it sting even more to see John and Lydia with so many children? Would John and Lydia think having only two children would be a nice break at times?

Did the grass on the other side of the fence always look greener?

THIRTY-SEVEN

Jacob waited in the rig in the dark of the early morning, watching the Cranfords’ home for signs that his three passengers—Rhoda, Iva, and Leah—would come out soon. Scores of birds chirped in anticipation of daylight. It should be a time of rejoicing. His life was in order. He’d returned to his first love, carpentry. And Rhoda was planning to go away with him in the late fall.

But discontent with him seemed to weigh on her.

Rhoda’s family had been here for almost two days. His family had arrived yesterday, along with the three families who were weighing a move to these parts, all on the Fourth of July. And it had been quite an evening of fellowship and construction talk. Unseen fireworks had boomed in the distance as the families discussed a dozen things at once. The new Amish families, two with single men around Leah’s age, were staying elsewhere while checking out possible homes to buy. Thankfully, the men would help work on the kitchen while they were here.

Today would be the first full workday since everyone had arrived, although the men had organized the supplies and created a plan yesterday. Jacob’s uncle Mervin had arrived yesterday too, along with his work crew, most of them related to the King family.

It was an exciting time, and yet …

The front door opened, and soon Rhoda, Iva, and Leah climbed into the carriage.

“Guder Marye.” Jacob gave each a nod as they took a seat. Iva and Leah got in the row behind him.

Rhoda sat next to him. “Guder Marye.” She barely made eye contact before closing the door and saying nothing else.

He clicked his tongue and tapped the reins against the horse’s back. The rig left the driveway and bounced along in silence as the horse’s hoofs hit the asphalt at a steady pace.

Despite the silence, Jacob could no longer deny the loudness radiating from Rhoda. They hadn’t been able to get a minute alone since her family had arrived. When he caught a few seconds with her, even though others were in the room or nearby, he detected frustration and felt distance toward him.

Did she know that even a hint of hardness and coldness cut him to the core? He remembered when Sandra had acted that way toward Blaine. It had about been the man’s undoing, only Blaine had earned it. Jacob hadn’t.

He pulled onto the cracked concrete of the driveway. Unlike when he’d left here earlier, lanterns were now lit inside the home. The house was brimming with people, and when the first rays of light dawned, they would spill out into the orchard to admire it. As soon as breakfast was over, they would start raising the harvest kitchen.

Jacob stopped the rig just outside the barn. He strode to the other side, but Rhoda was already out, holding the door while Iva and Leah maneuvered from the back of the box to the ground. As the three women headed for the house, Jacob caught Rhoda by the arm. She looked up. Her brilliant blue eyes had an edge of dullness for him, but she said nothing.

Leah glanced back at them, and Jacob motioned. “We’ll be there in a minute.” He waited until they were inside before turning to her. “What’s going on with you?”

“This isn’t the time. We’ll talk when everyone goes home.”

“That’s five days from now. And you’re clearly upset about something.”

“I’m fine.”

“Rhodes, don’t say the opposite of what you mean. Not to me.”

“Why not? You keep things from me all the time.”

“What are you talking about?”

The black sky eased into navy blue. Voices rode through the windows of the home. The aroma of coffee and bacon filled the air.

Rhoda gestured for him to follow, and they walked toward the other side of the rig.

Even though they’d begun their relationship with every conversation being stimulating and exciting, he hadn’t expected it to be that way all the time. But now it seemed they seldom got to enjoy that part of who they were together. When was the last time he’d made her laugh?

He knew the solution. They needed to be away from here. Then they’d do more than finish healing. They’d become one again. They’d share joy and laughter and even tears without any brick walls of disappointment crashing down on them for reasons he didn’t understand. Maybe they should leave as soon as the harvest began. Could he hire some of the visiting young women to assist Leah and Iva? Even if he could, would Rhoda leave that soon?