The Winnowing Season (26 page)

They studied her.

“What? That’s not enough for one girl to know?”

“All I needed was about the first three sentences.” Jacob drew her close, hugging her. She took him by the hand, and the three of them headed for the house.

Samuel seemed relieved that her little spiel was over. “Does this mean we can settle into a routine and keep our focus on restoring the orchard … without anyone disappearing?”

Jacob squeezed her hand. “It’s okay with me if
you
settle into a routine and only focus on the orchard.”

Samuel picked up a stick and broke it in half. “What about that blogger?”

Rhoda removed her backpack and passed it to Jacob. “We have to tell everyone something, or they’ll invite trouble for Jacob without realizing it, just as I did by going to that seminar. I think it’s best to keep it simple and honest. Jacob needs us not to mention his name to outsiders. At all. We say that there are solid reasons, but all they need to know is that Jacob stepped in something while among the Englisch, removed his boots, and came home.” She put her
hands into her coat pockets. “The only one who has a right to question you on that would be a preacher, a deacon, or a bishop. And guess what?”

Samuel tossed the sticks to the side. “We have none at the moment.”

“Exactly.” Rhoda grinned.

Jacob looped two fingers through the handle of the backpack. “Steven may feel he needs to know. As your brother, since we’re seeing each other and your Daed isn’t around, and as the fill-in spiritual leader.”

Rhoda put her free arm around his. “Then you talk to him, saying just enough to satisfy his need to understand.”

“You sure?”

“Well, no. But you have to trust a few people with your secret. If you can’t trust those of us you share a home with, who can you trust?”

He nodded, smiling down at her.

All she could do was hope to goodness she was right.

TWENTY-THREE

Landon stretched his legs, feeling the comfort of his granny’s recliner against his sore muscles. Whatever needed doing on the apple farm, it usually required him to build stamina in another area of his back, arms, or legs.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. The number staring back at him made him smile. Obviously those phones the Amish kept so far from the warmth of home were more useful than he’d given them credit for.

He muted the television with his free hand before he answered the phone. “Well, hello. Haven’t you talked to me enough today?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

Rhoda’s voice caught him off guard. At least he hadn’t said Leah’s name when answering.

“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“Are you near a computer?”

He grabbed his laptop off the end table and opened it. “I’ve got it right here.”

“I need you to search the Internet.”

“Okay.” He clicked on the Firefox icon. “What are we looking for?”

“Bob and Camilla Cranford.”

He clicked on the Google bookmark. “Aren’t they the neighbors you met a few weeks back?”

“Ya.”

His service provider was slow today, and he waited for the Google page to load. “The same people you took several jars to last week, right?”

“That’s them.”

She was being rather closed on the subject, which told him more than she probably wanted to.

He typed in the names. “If you’d stayed gone much longer at the Cranfords, Jacob would’ve sent out a search party.”

“Ya. He’s a bit antsy about me getting turned around in the woods. It can be a little confusing. I asked him to go with me, but …”

Landon knew the rest of that sentence. Since it had become obvious that the Kings and Bylers stuck out so clearly, Jacob wasn’t comfortable with meeting people.

The page finally finished loading, and he began scanning the headings. “If the Cranfords are so nice, why am I doing an Internet search on them? Are you getting snoopy in your old age?”

She didn’t respond.

He saw nothing of interest. “You picked up on something about them, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I hope not, but I can’t let go of a feeling they stirred. And a child’s plea keeps startling me awake at night. Do you see anything about them having children?”

“Nope.” He clicked on an article that had Camilla’s name in it. “I see nothing about that. It says they are residents of Orchard Bend. But we knew that already.” He clicked on a link. “Bob sometimes attends the town meetings in Unity.” He backed out of that article and went to the second page of the search. “They seem to be very quiet people. Ah, here’s an article about Camilla playing the cello at the performing arts center seven years ago.” Landon shrugged. “That’s about it, Rhodes.”

“Type in ‘Bob Dumont,’ ‘Orchard Bend,’ or ‘Unity.’ ”

He did so. “There are a couple of men in their forties with the last name Dumont, but no Bob and no one his age.”

“What about Dumont children?”

He ran the search. “Nothing.”

She sighed, but it sounded more like relief than frustration.

Then Landon keyed in “Camilla Dumont.”

“Whoa. Hang on. There is a Camilla Dumont from Portland, Maine. Age sixty-five. Before she lived there, she lived in Caribou, Maine.” He whistled. “That’s near the Canadian border. She lived there with her husband. His name is Charles.” Landon clicked on link after link, scanning various newspaper articles. According to some police reports, Camilla landed in the hospital more than once due to domestic violence.

“It wasn’t pretty, Rhodes. Whatever you’re picking up on, you need to leave it alone. According to what I’m reading, it’s surprising she got away from that man in one piece.”

“What about children. Is there any mention of a child or grandchild?”

He skimmed and clicked. “None that I see. I’ll keep looking if you want me to.”

“Ya, do that and let me know. And Landon …”

“I know. It’s just between us. You think I don’t know that by now?”

“Denki.”

“Anytime. See you tomorrow.”

He hung up, still skimming the pages. What was Rhoda picking up on this time? With the stuff happening in Jacob’s life—which he knew almost nothing about except he’d been told not to mention Jacob’s name to anyone who showed up at the farm—Rhoda should steer clear of reaching out because of some vague inkling. Did she realize that, or was she willing to do whatever was necessary to find the answers she was looking for?

Samuel bridled two horses and led them from their stalls to an open area of the barn. The walkie-talkie clipped to his suspender crackled, and he turned it down.

Sunlight and crisp air streamed through the slats, windows, and doors. He moved from one side of the horses to the other, hitching them to the
aerating blades while patting the animals and talking softly. But he couldn’t whisper his thoughts even to animals, much less tell them to another human.

Rhoda’s laughter rang out, and Samuel couldn’t keep from looking through the barn window. She hurried across the yard ahead of Jacob and turned back with her arms extended toward him. “You stop, Jacob King. Now!”

Snowflakes were falling as effortlessly as she was falling more in love with Jacob. Rhoda turned, hurrying toward a greenhouse. “We have work to do.”

Jacob charged forward, grabbed her coat, and pulled her back into his arms. She squealed, and the familiar, impossible feeling of deep loneliness mixed with gratitude warred within him. He was so glad for his brother and for Rhoda. But for himself … All he could do was try not to think about her.

He returned his focus to hitching the team to the aerator. At least it was daylight, and he had work to do. The nights were the worst. Who would have thought they would be even lonelier than the days?

He’d been without a girl before and not felt the least bit lost. He’d put his attention on work, trusting God would bring him someone in His timing. But that was before …

Before Rhoda.

Before loving so deeply it hurt to have no hope of a future with her. His misery was increased because he couldn’t express what he was going through to anyone. Not even his closest confidant—Jacob.

Aiming to reel in his thoughts again, he rehashed information about the move from Pennsylvania, things he had written or would soon write in another report to his bishop.

Thanksgiving was two days away, and the new settlement was making good progress with the orchard. The two other families that would join them had sold their homes. They’d put a contract on a home a few miles from the orchard, and the two Bender brothers and their families would live together for a while. They expected to be here before February.

As for work on the orchard, Samuel had devised a horse-drawn rake, and he’d spent two weeks by himself using the rig to gather leaves from the eighty
acres of land. Of course he didn’t mention to his bishop that he did the raking by himself or why. Those long, cold days alone in the orchard were Samuel’s refuge, a very sure way of avoiding Rhoda. He would haul the leaves close to her greenhouses, and then Jacob and Rhoda took over cutting them and putting them in the compost bins so they could mingle with the herbs and manure. Rhoda had wanted Landon to rent a leaf shredder, but Samuel was sticking to the Old Ways—at least for now. If it became obvious that she couldn’t make enough mulch without using a rented machine, then Samuel would have to reconsider sidestepping the Amish ways on this issue, at least for one season.

Today’s goal was to begin aerating the ground so they could spread mulch, hopefully before the first real snowfall. Again, it would give Samuel time alone in the orchard. Probably weeks of it.

Phoebe was handling the meals and laundry, although she was still unpacking as time allowed. Leah helped wherever she was needed. Surprisingly enough, she did so without complaining, but Samuel didn’t put that last part in his report either.

They’d had gas for three weeks now, making meals and bath time easier for everyone. But the draftiness of the house still required they keep one or more fires going. The holdup at the gas company had been a mistake on their part. The company had logged his information incorrectly and thought the new owners were moving in on November 21, not October 21. The mistake didn’t make sense. When Samuel first called them, he told them they were living here. But when he called a third time, and they realized their mistake, they apologized, gave them a discount, and sent someone out immediately. The woman said something about the gas company having a legal obligation to provide gas for heat and cooking.

He sighed, tired of rehashing boring items. There had to be something he was missing about how best to take captive his thoughts and emotions.

The word
captive
stuck out to him. Somehow that was the answer, wasn’t it? Maybe his inappropriate love for Rhoda was God’s way of letting him know his life was out of balance. He spent very little time with God, reading the
Word or praying. He’d spent most of his life working too much and aiming to control his destiny. Now he needed to take every thought captive. If he’d been doing that all along, maybe he wouldn’t be so weak against this temptation. That’s what he would start doing. It’s what he should have been doing all along.

“Samuel?” Jacob entered the barn. “Did you want me to haul the mulch spreader to the greenhouse to load it up?”

“I moved it to the far side of the first greenhouse before daylight.” Samuel fastened the last buckle on the rigging. “And loaded it.” It was one of the perks of not being able to sleep; he had hours of work done before the sun came up.

“Really?” Jacob’s brows twisted. “I didn’t see it.”

Samuel patted the horse. “That’s because you have eyes for only one thing lately.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll tell Rhoda you classified her as a
thing
.”

There was no doubt that Jacob and Rhoda were happy. Which was good. That was what Samuel wanted, wasn’t it? Of course it was. To want anything less would be cruel and reckless. Still, he ached to tell Rhoda his true feelings, to explain how he had given up his relationship with Catherine because the depth of what he felt for Rhoda showed him that what he felt for Catherine wasn’t love at all. But he would not say a word or slip a hint or give in to any desire to snatch her into his arms.

If he could talk to someone, maybe the unbearable loneliness churning inside him would ease. Or maybe it would at least make it possible to sleep. But Jacob was the one person he normally turned to. Or Catherine. Even if Samuel could find a few private hours with his brother, what could he possibly say?
Hey, little brother, I’m miserably lonely, mostly because I’m in love with your girl. Any ideas on what I should do?

“Hallo?” Jacob clapped his gloved hands.

Samuel took a deep breath, holding it in for a moment before blowing it between his ungloved hands and rubbing them vigorously. “What?”

“Rhoda asked me to find out who you want teamed up first—you and her or me and her?”

Himself and Rhoda. Definitely
.

“You and her. Of course.” Samuel always avoided being paired with Rhoda. Hadn’t Jacob figured that out by now? “Let Steven be the swingman, changing teams as needed. Once we have down how best to aerate and spread mulch, we’ll pull in Leah and Landon.”