The Winnowing Season (12 page)

Urie seemed a bit taken aback by Samuel’s apology and David’s comments. He held up his hand, signaling for everyone to wait. Then he and the two other leaders huddled.

Being a church leader was difficult at best, and it seemed to Samuel that few men ever wanted the position. Church members nominated those they felt were worthy. If a man received three nominations, he then went through a process of elimination, during which any church members who had a grievance against him would tell the bishop their thoughts in private. From those who remained on the list after the elimination process, leaders were chosen by lot after a communion service.

It didn’t matter if a man had no desire to be a minister. Few ever wanted the weight of that position. But for every man, part of joining the faith was
agreeing to be a church minister if the lot fell to him one day—although most people waited until a man was married and had children of his own before they would nominate him.

Being a minister was filled with heavy responsibilities and decade after decade with no compensation other than respect and a few gifts … if people chose to give either. The church leaders had to hold full-time jobs just like every other man.

Once he was older, Jacob would make a good church leader. But Samuel wouldn’t. He shuddered to think of himself as one. He was too bullheaded and had little patience with his own frailties, let alone those of others. He couldn’t imagine dealing with the spiritual, emotional, and physical needs of one or more districts year after year from the moment the lot fell on him until he was dead or too close to death to continue.

Compassion for Urie eased some of Samuel’s anger. Still, he wondered what had happened in Urie’s life to make him so set against Rhoda.

Urie looked up from the huddle and then stepped back in front of his people. He adjusted his glasses. “What exactly was your hope when you sent that letter, Samuel?”

“Two things, really. I feel that Rhoda deserves some justice concerning her garden. If we as Amish are not to take these matters to the police, then the only place we can go is to our leaders. And perhaps more important is that the young women in your flock deserve protection. If Rueben would do this to her, then I believe he’s bullying other women too.”

Rueben jumped to his feet. “
Prove
it.”

Samuel wanted to lunge across the chairs at the man, but Samuel’s bishop caught his eye, the warning clear. Samuel shoved his hands into his pockets and felt the pages Rhoda had given him. When she’d passed them to him, he’d not taken the time to look. He pulled the papers out of his pocket and opened them.

Blank.

He flipped to the second and third pages. They were blank too.

“Samuel.”

He looked up, and one of Rhoda’s preachers held out his hand. “Is that for us?”

Samuel glanced at Rhoda. Chills went up his spine, but she gave no indication as to what he should do—not a nod or a shake of her head.

“Kumm.” The preacher held out his hand, and Samuel made his way to the front of the room.

The preacher stared at the papers and frowned at Samuel. “What is this?”

“It’s lies!” Rueben reached to grab the papers, but Samuel stepped between him and the preacher.

Rueben shoved him, but Samuel regained his footing. Despite the temptation to shove back or hit Rueben, Samuel wasn’t about to give in. He kept his hands at his sides, aiming to respond with the peacekeeping methods his faith had tried to teach him.

Urie took the papers, confusion filling his features.

Rueben turned to face the onlookers, and he focused on one man. “Where is she?”

Was he unaware of how threatening his tone sounded? Did he realize that he’d just revealed his own guilt? Rueben believed someone else had written a letter of grievances against him, and by the look on Urie’s face, he fully understood what Rueben’s reaction meant.

The man in the back of the room shifted in his chair. “We have no quarrel with you, Rueben.”

It sounded to Samuel as if that man had a daughter and Rueben thought the papers held accusations against him from her. David held out his hand for the letter and flipped through the pages, a slight smile crossing his somber face. “That’s quite a temper you have, Rueben, and right here in front of everyone. What do you do when no one is watching?”

When Samuel looked at Urie, he was staring at his nephew, his face drained of all color.

The room waited in silence, and Urie seemed unable to respond. Finally he
turned to Rhoda, clearly unsure of what he thought of her. “We’ll dismiss now, but there is no evidence that you’ve done anything wrong. You are free to move to Maine.”

Did the man hear himself? No evidence Rhoda had done anything wrong? That’s not what tonight was supposed to be about. But Samuel had peace that he could let this rest now.

“Those are lies!” Rueben pointed at the letter in David’s hands.

“Lies,” Urie whispered, visibly shaken. “I think it’s best if the church leaders allow any complaints concerning you to go to David. If the church leaders in Lancaster are like us, the ministers have phone shanties so their people can reach them as needed, ya?”

David nodded.

Urie pursed his lips. “Very well. We’ll send David’s mailing address and phone number to every church member with an invitation to contact him.” Urie lowered his head. “Let’s pray.”

Samuel’s heart pounded as peace flooded him. At least she had been given the right to leave tomorrow, but the meeting wasn’t ending as he’d hoped. Rhoda had agreed to come here tonight so the church leaders would free her brother and his family to go to Maine as members in good standing.

Would she agree to go?

ELEVEN

When the prayer ended and before the people could get out of their chairs, Rhoda slipped out a side door. Darkness surrounded her. Landon’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, and she was desperate for some time alone, so she started to walk away. Confusion circled. What just happened was a victory, wasn’t it? Then why did she feel so alone?

Despite the final outcome, she struggled under the weight of people’s scorn. To know it existed was one thing. To have it thrown at her for more than an hour before Samuel made some headway was something else.

“Rhodes, wait!”

She didn’t know why, but she wanted to avoid looking into Samuel’s eyes. Nevertheless, she paused.

He came within a few feet of her before he stopped. “We need to talk.”

“Not now.” Even that was more than she wanted to say, but she needed to congratulate him. He deserved that, even if her emotions about the meeting, about her life, were all over the place. “You did well, and I’m glad you accomplished what you set out to do. I really am. It never entered my mind that Rueben was harassing anyone besides me. But I need time alone.”

“Why did you give me three blank pieces of paper?”

“I’m not sure. They were on a clipboard in the shed, and when I saw them, I wanted to tuck them away, thinking each one represented a blank future—yours, Jacob’s, and mine. I thought that maybe we would get to decide what will be written on them.”

“I think God had a higher purpose for nudging you to get them.”

His words should bring her comfort, but rarely knowing why she felt
impressed to do things or if something was of God or not bothered her. Ready to be alone, she started walking again.

“Rhodes.” He fell into step beside her. “You’re hurt and angry, but you’re going to Maine, right?”

Voices behind them made them both look that way. Her parents were walking toward her, several yards away. She waved at them, but someone called to her parents, and they needed to go back to the bishop’s house.

Her Daed grinned. “We’ll see you at the house, ya?”

Samuel waved. “She’ll be there.”

Rhoda didn’t like him answering for her, but it was the answer she would have given. Whatever else she did tonight, she had to spend some time with her parents. She drew a deep breath and started walking again.

“Where’s your brother, Samuel? Why wasn’t he here for me?”

Samuel looked uncomfortable, then he shrugged. But he knew something. She was positive of it.

“What, you can open up my life to a room full of people who don’t want anything to do with me, but you refuse to answer a reasonable question about someone I’m in a relationship with?”

When he said nothing, she walked off.

“Rhoda, wait.”

She turned. “
What
, Samuel? What do you want from me?”

He said nothing, but in the silence an explanation came to her.

“I’ve been racking my brain for weeks to figure out what you want and why you’ve been so sharp tongued and difficult since we agreed to purchase the farm in Maine. And it’s finally dawned on me. You want my growing ability without any part of the rest of me.”

He stared at the ground. “That’s not true at all.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers, but what she saw reflected—the hesitancy mixed with kindheartedness—made little sense. Did he respect her or merely put up with her? “I’m sorry I’m responsible for what you were subjected to tonight.”

“It’s obvious that it needed to be done. You were right about that. Completely.” She gestured toward the house. “Not one person in my district stood up for me. Not even my Daed. And Jacob! Why would he leave when he knew what I’d face tonight?”

Samuel looked at her, his face mirroring conflicting and powerful emotions. “You can ask Jacob any question you need to. He said he’d be back before we head out. But both of those men love you.” He smiled. “Even I know that much. And I can clear up your concerns about your Daed. He’s no coward. He would do anything for you if he thought it was right. He’s spent most of your life thinking that keeping silent and asking you to keep silent was the right way to go.”

She wanted to believe him.

He stared at the horizon and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it’s possible that’s why no one else stood up for you either. They believe silence is equal to godliness. But if I’d thought for a minute that it’d hurt you like this, I’d have found a different way to flush Rueben’s deeds out of the darkness.”

“You’re a man of honor one minute and difficult and harsh with me the next. What’s wrong with you?”

“That’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot lately.”

“And?”

“You wouldn’t like any of the answers I’ve come up with.”

“Well, that hasn’t stopped you from giving me an earful any other time.”

His quiet laugh had a hint of scoffing … at himself. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Samuel King, I’ve seen you at your worst and your best. You have no reason to suddenly feel you need to hold up some fake image of who you are. Not with me.”

He gazed heavenward. “You take a lot out of man, you know that?” He drew a heavy breath. “Look, we make a good team—you, me, Jacob, and Leah. Kings’ Orchard needs you.” He shifted. “But I’ve never once wanted your horticultural skills without the rest of you.” He sounded so sincere she had to believe him. “Besides, Jacob would disown me if you didn’t come.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Samuel loved his brother, and his brother loved her. “Your father hates me.”

“He doesn’t know you, not really, and he’s trying to make sense of why a tornado destroyed the orchard. He doesn’t see the incident as part of living on a fallen planet. Nor does he see it as the Scriptures say in Matthew—that God sends rain on the just and the unjust. Daed thinks it’s punishment directly from the hand of God, and you’re an easy scapegoat.”

There were days when she was pretty sure Samuel didn’t like her either. But there had been times tonight during the meeting when he seemed ready to ruin his life to defend her. “I don’t understand you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“You’re as hardheaded as any man I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re no picnic yourself.”

She smiled. “True.”

“I’ve been tired and overwhelmed, and so have you. I’ve made some bad decisions concerning how best to deal with the newest member of the team. Can you give me a little grace here? Our relationship is confusing.”

That
reasoning she could understand. Amish men didn’t take on a female business partner. His brother was courting her, and she was, as he put it, no picnic. He was both a business partner and a friend. At times she found it confusing too. Added to that, unmarried Amish had never started a new settlement before. That had to be adding stress and confusion as he ventured into the new while upholding the Old Ways.

He held out his hand to her, ready to shake it. “To Maine?”

He now knew how her community felt about her. He’d seen it firsthand, and he wasn’t back-pedaling or wanting to protect the new settlement by distancing himself from her.

Would she ever figure him out?

She held out her hand. “To Maine.”

Leah jolted awake, her body aching against the seat of the train. She rubbed her eyes, realizing Rhoda had touched her leg to wake her.

“Sorry.” Rhoda shrugged. “But we’ll be in Boston in a few minutes.”

Leah looked out the window, catching a glimpse of bright sunlight reflecting off a short concrete wall. Behind that she saw metal structures that reminded her of the wooden telephone poles back home.
That
landscape wasn’t worth seeing. “I missed the whole trip?”