The Winnowing Season

by Cindy Woodsmall

  She needed people to believe she chose to give up the land.

  She’d made all that clear to Samuel, had told him how important it was that no one else find out what Rueben had done. Samuel had objected, but she’d been adamant. She refused to let the neighbors see her plants uprooted like a white flag of surrender. Nor would she give the vandals the satisfaction of seeing her treated as a victim. She had thought Samuel understood.

  Why couldn’t he accept that she needed it handled this way? Why couldn’t he trust that she was doing what was right for her?

  The familiar sound of an unsteady ladder against a tree drew her attention. Holding on to the handsaw, Samuel was climbing the rungs. She shoved the letter into her apron pocket and headed toward him. As she clasped the sides of the ladder, her hands shook against the wooden frame. Part of her wanted to knock him off his perch. Rather than give in to her desire, she gripped the ladder until her knuckles turned white. “You had no right, and you know it.”

  He said nothing.

  “So now you hold your tongue? You couldn’t have done that a couple of months ago? Why am I just now learning that you took my private business to the church leaders?”

  Again, silence.

  He continued severing another healthy branch from the half-upended tree. The few remaining Baldwin apples shook, and some plunked to the ground. A fresh sense of powerlessness washed over her. No doubt some of her emotional upheaval was due to her exhaustion. They’d had no reprieve, no harbor of rest since the tornado came through, destroying crops, homes, and lives.

  She looked to the horizon, hoping to see Jacob top the hill. At least he understood her.

  How could two brothers little more than a year apart in age and raised in the same Amish home be so very different? Jacob would never consider ignoring her wishes while he manhandled her life. Ever. Samuel had times when he seemed to think it was his right, no, his obligation to fix things as he saw best.

  “Samuel King, the least you could do is answer me.”

  He gazed down at her. “I’ve already said my piece. It needed to be done.” His tone was even, as if he were talking to a child, and with that said, he returned to his work, pushing and pulling the sharp blade against the healthy branch.

  “Needed to be …” She took several deep breaths, shaking like the branch he was sawing off. “Do you have any idea what a meeting like this could do? Some, maybe most, within my district do not see my horticultural skills as simply having a green thumb or my talking to myself as a weird habit. Since my sister was killed, my bishop has been waiting for any justifiable reason to question me directly. And you gave it to him.”

  Samuel stopped and stared across the field as if considering her words. Was he capable of seeing her point? It wouldn’t undo what he’d done, but if he couldn’t at least see that he had been wrong, how could she continue to be his business partner? She held her tongue, hoping the silence would give him a chance to see how wrong he’d been.

  Afternoon light streamed through the thick white clouds, casting a glow on the vibrant leaves of the different kinds of apple trees. The leaves were turning red, yellow, and orange, a welcome sign that some of the trees, or parts of them, were alive enough to change with the season. She tried to focus on the colorful leaves rather than on the sickening brown ones of the trees that had already died.

  Samuel sighed and began sawing again. “Be ready to step back on command.”

  Rhoda raised her eyebrows and shook her head, a silent venting that Samuel couldn’t see. For heaven’s sake, she knew the drill. And he knew she knew it. Yet he warned her every time. When Rhoda worked beside Jacob, she enjoyed their easy banter and humor. It used to be that way with Samuel too. But not of late, not since a group of them—nine Amish and Landon—went to Maine to inspect a foreclosed farm and dormant apple orchard. After walking the land, they had agreed to buy it. But since then, with few exceptions, Samuel had been especially hard on her. Why?

  Jacob once described her and Samuel as oil and water. Though she and Samuel argued a little too easily, she had never felt powerless or truly disappointed with him.

  Until now.

  How could he have gone behind her back and taken charges against Rueben to her church leaders?

  The night she discovered her beloved garden virtually destroyed, she had decided to beat Rueben at his own game by uprooting what he’d left of her garden and grading the land. Then she gave the acre to her brothers so at least one of them could build a home. With both married brothers and their offspring living under the same roof with Rhoda and her parents, she’d looked like a hero to her community. Her family knew the truth, but rather than Rueben getting to gloat over what he’d done, he had to watch as the church members patted her on the back for her generous gift. To her, that had a sense of justice about it, and since Rueben’s attack had only harmed her and her business, and her plan hadn’t included any physical harm to him, she felt she had the right to dole out the punishment as she saw fit.

  But now Rueben would find satisfaction in what he had accomplished, and she would have to answer to the church leaders for not coming to them promptly, when the misdeed had been done, and for taking credit for giving up the land instead of admitting someone had ruined her crops.

  “Now!” Samuel’s growl echoed off the hills.

  Rhoda swooshed to the far side of the ladder, clasping both hands on one side. The branch crackled as it finally let go of the tree and fell to the ground and then bounced like a springboard.

  Samuel made his way down the ladder, and his brown eyes met hers. He paused, then turned away, set his saw against the tree trunk, and pulled a knife from his pocket.

  She folded her arms. “We’re supposed to leave before daylight tomorrow, and now we have this mess to contend with?”

  He cut several ten- to twelve-inch twigs off the branch, creating scions for grafting. His Adam’s apple moved as if he’d swallowed hard at her question, but other than that, he didn’t acknowledge she had even spoken.

  When he walked away, carrying the grafting stock with him, Rhoda grabbed the bucket and followed.

  He paused. “You can’t let Rueben get away with what he did.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Samuel. He’s already gotten away with it. Nothing anyone can say or do could change that. I had one chance of being free from the humiliation of his vandalism. Can’t you see that?”

  “What I see is a man who needs to be held accountable to the church leaders.”

  She dropped the bucket and let her frustration out on a scream. “Ahhh!” She was shaking. “That wasn’t your decision! Until you can see that, we have nothing else to talk about.”

  “Gut.” He set the first-aid bucket upright and slung into it the items that had fallen out, along with the scions. “Silence would be welcome.”

  She needed to talk about this until the air was cleared between them, but maybe being mute for now was their best chance of protecting their budding partnership. Several who were going to the new settlement had invested money in purchasing the farm: Jacob, Samuel, Rhoda, and her brother Steven. Despite not going with them, her Daed had invested in the venture too. But only Samuel’s name was on the mortgage. Rhoda didn’t have a credit score, so the bank wouldn’t allow her name to be on the loan. Steven hoped to buy a home of his own in Maine within a year, and having his name on the farm mortgage could keep him from qualifying for a loan on his own place when the time came. And Jacob didn’t want to be listed on the financial papers, although she didn’t know why. Maybe he also hoped to buy a home in the near future.

  All those details aside, the farm had been purchased, and the Kings and the Bylers were depending on her and Samuel’s expertise to make a go of the new apple orchard. She and Samuel had a lot to safeguard, and the work of restoring the orchard hadn’t yet begun. Not really.

  “Fine, you want me to shut up. You have it.” She turned and started to walk off. “Oh.” She faced him. “And you can go to that meeting
tonight with the church leaders by yourself.”

  “Be reasonable.” He jerked the black felt hat off his head and threw it across the field. “Without you, the ministers will cancel the meeting. But they’ll hold me accountable if you don’t go. It could cause enough scandal to make my church leaders question whether any of us can go tomorrow.”

  “Shoulda thought about that before you stuck your nose into my business.”

  “Okay, look, we’re both beyond weary at this point. We’ve been pushing too hard and trying to accomplish too much before leaving tomorrow, and I know this meeting couldn’t happen at a worse time, but you don’t have a choice about attending.”

  “Ya? Well, then, you should’ve thought about that too. Decisions that affect other people’s lives aren’t so easy to disregard when those decisions start messing with your life, are they?” She raised her eyebrows, daring him to argue.

  “It’s inconvenient, and it won’t be easy, but Rueben needs to be confronted. The train tickets are for seven in the morning, and—”

  “Would you please stop repeating what I already know and admit you were wrong? Just say the words ‘I shouldn’t have contacted the church leaders. Forgive me.’ ”

  “Why do you have to see me as wrong in this?”

  “A much better question is why would you dare to believe you knew what was right about the destruction of my fruit garden!”

  A horse and rider thundered over the hill and came to a quick stop. Jacob glanced from Samuel to Rhoda. “A few minutes ago I was unsure where to find you two—until I heard yelling.” He stared at his brother for a moment, then he winked at Rhoda and slid off his horse.

  She couldn’t manage a smile.

  Jacob picked up Samuel’s hat and held it out to him. “Thirty acres of orchard to search for you two, and the sound of arguing guided me here. Can’t say I’m pleased.”

  Rhoda had never heard an edge to Jacob’s tone before, but as he held his brother’s gaze, it was clear Jacob was correcting Samuel. Jacob slapped the reins against the palm of his hand. “Daed says you’re needed in the office immediately. He says something is up that could hinder us from even boarding the train tomorrow.” Jacob shrugged. “He didn’t elaborate. He insisted I stop updating the bookkeeping and rushed me out the door to find you. What could possibly be going on that might cause that big a problem?”

  Samuel angrily knocked the dust off the brim of his hat. “Nothing that a reasonable woman couldn’t fix.”

  If this man understood anything, he would stop antagonizing her before she resigned from Kings’ Orchard. She glared at him. “There would be nothing for this woman to fix if you’d respected my decisions concerning my life.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, silencing him. “I will not go to Maine and work beside someone who will be the head authority over the business but has no respect concerning my decisions as well as my boundaries.”

  Samuel’s face filled with disbelief. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Okay, guys.” Jacob pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it between them. He let it dangle and gawked at the red fabric. “Just what I don’t want to do—wave a red flag between two bulls.” He made a face. “I thought it was white. Just pretend it is.” He waved it again. “ ’Cause I’m calling a truce.”

  It wasn’t like Jacob to get between her and Samuel when they disagreed, but he seemed to realize that what was happening went way beyond two people having a difference of opinion.

  “Here.” Jacob shoved the horse’s reins at Samuel, despite the Morgan being twenty or so feet away. “Go. Whatever has you two riled, you both need some time to cool off.”

  Rhoda shook her head. “I’m not changing my mind. This isn’t about being angry. I stand on principle.”

  “What do you think I’m standing on, Rhoda?”

  Jacob thrust the reins toward Samuel again. “Quicksand, the best I can tell. Go.”

  Rhoda took a deep breath. “All I want is a sincere acknowledgment that you were wrong to go behind my back.”

  “I’m not apologizing, and it’d be nice if you’d be a little grateful that I went out of my way to see that justice was done.”

  “Grateful?” He had opened up her life to an authority that, at best, treated her with suspicion. She wasn’t going to tell Samuel that. It was embarrassing. Besides, if he had never seen a church authority treat someone unfairly, he would assume her concerns were only in her mind.

  She hated feeling trapped and vulnerable, but what made it unbearable was that Samuel had no remorse for putting her in this spot. The earlier temptation to knock him off the ladder paled in comparison to what she felt now: a searing desire to end her working relationship with Samuel King.

  Samuel looked at Jacob, motioning toward Rhoda. “You talk to her. I have work to do.” He started to walk off.

  “Samuel,”—Rhoda fisted her hands at her sides—“you’re sure you want to be this stubborn?”

  “Not an ounce of doubt.”

  “Fine.”

  “Samuel!” Jacob stepped in front of his brother and angled away from Rhoda. “This is going too far. Reel it back in.”

  He shook his head. “I did what I thought was right, and I’m not apologizing for it.”

  Rhoda drew a deep breath and held out her hand.

  Samuel frowned. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re parting now. You and Rueben have each gotten your way, and I’m done with both of you.”

  Confusion and disbelief drew taut lines across his face. “You can’t possibly put what I did in the same category as what he did.”

  “I don’t have to. Life isn’t that black and white. He ran roughshod over God’s will in order to damage my life. You did the same, but the will you ignored was mine. The fact that you can’t see what you did was wrong tells me we can’t continue.” She stepped forward, extending her hand again.

  Samuel glanced at Jacob, raw emotions washing over his features. And then he shook her hand.

  TWO

  Jacob peered down at Rhoda. She stared at her hand, the one Samuel had shaken before departing. The October wind ruffled her dress and the strings to her prayer Kapp but nothing like what his brother had done to her emotions. Jacob didn’t know what the argument was about, but he knew why it’d gotten out of control—two people who rarely saw eye to eye on anything were dealing with massive pressure and sheer exhaustion.

  Was she truly furious with Samuel? Absolutely. Did she have a right to be that angry? He was sure of it, even without knowing what they had argued over. But her willingness to sever ties with Kings’ Orchard surely had less to do with her anger and more to do with fatigue and stress.

  Jacob dipped his head, catching her intense stare. “Hi.”

  She blinked, and then her beautiful blue eyes focused on his, a trace of calmness returning to her. “I’m not backing down.”

  “Then how about if you move forward?” He put his hands on her shoulders and gently nudged her toward him.

  She hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace. “He drives me crazy, not seeing when he’s wrong.”

  “I know.” Jacob could feel her trembling as he rested his cheek against her head.

  The weight of getting this orchard into good shape before moving had rested mostly on Samuel’s and Rhoda’s shoulders, as did the success of starting the new settlement several states away. Their horticultural skills were supposed to be the foundation of the new Amish community.

  After Landon had brought him the information about the abandoned orchard in Maine, Jacob had pushed and cajoled the group into buying the foreclosed farm. While Samuel was still under sedation from a leg injury, due to the tornado, Jacob came up with a plan to encourage Samuel and Rhoda—a new orchard in a different state. Jacob didn’t regret talking them into the idea, but he’d been shortsighted, not realizing the stress that would place on the two of them.

  The upside was Samuel’s new strateg
y meant that Jacob would also go to Maine. So once they moved, he would be able to devote his days to helping both of them.

  “Rhodes.” He wasn’t sure what to say, but she and Samuel had to resolve their differences. Today. “This incident reminds me of the time I saw a young man pushing a baby stroller with a crying infant inside. The man quietly muttered, ‘Calm down, George. It’s okay. Don’t scream, George.’ As I passed him, I wanted to be encouraging, so I said, ‘You’re really patient with your son George.’ The man answered, ‘I’m George!’ ”

  She backed away just enough to see him, a hint of a smile in her eyes. “So one of the characters is Samuel and one is me. Who’s the baby?”

  “Uh, well, let’s see.” He shrugged. “I say you get to be whichever one you wish.”

  She wagged her finger in his face, her anger draining away. “You just want to make nice.”

  He eased her finger to his lips and kissed it. “I witnessed what arguing with you does, and I am no fool.”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t understand what he’s done.”

  “What has he done?”

  She pulled away. “He turned in a report to my church leaders about Rueben vandalizing my garden, and now I have to attend a meeting—an open meeting—to answer their questions.”

  Open? Why? Usually those types of meetings were held privately between the church leaders and the person being questioned, although sometimes they included family members. Even the private meetings could be embarrassing for the person being questioned, but they weren’t anything to fear unless someone had broken the Ordnung. Had Rhoda done that? If so, he was sure it’d been unintentional. She believed wholeheartedly in the Amish ways. “What about it has you worried?”

  “It’ll stir even more fear and speculation about me.”

  People’s reactions to Rhoda were rarely neutral. From what he could see, they either loved her or feared her. Most did the latter. Some of her ways even rattled him at times—like the day the sky was clearing from the storm, and yet she knew his parents’ home was about to be destroyed. But she kept her forewarnings hidden from others, didn’t she? “How much does your community know?”