A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “About two hundred miles, which by horse and carriage is way too far.” He gazed out over the fields. “The sea is a world all its own. The blue water, sunlight making its way through the surface, the ocean life. Every minute I was diving, my heart raced, and no matter how much time I spent in the water, I always wanted more. When I wasn’t doing it, I was dreaming about it. Constantly making plans and saving money to go again. As stupid as it probably sounds, I imagine what I felt was similar to being in love.”

  Leah could relate. Whenever she wasn’t with Michael, she was thinking about him, making plans to see him, wanting more time with him. “Then why did you come back?”

  “Oh, this and that. One reason is I realized something about the ocean.”

  “What?”

  “That no matter how much I loved everything about the sea, it didn’t care one iota about me. I could go every day and give it all my money, my thoughts, my dreams, and it felt nothing. The ocean was unchanging whether I was there or not.” He put on his hat and faced her. “What a waste.”

  Was that how it was between Michael and her? Would his life go on the same whether she was in it or not? “But it meant something powerful to you. Wasn’t that enough?”

  “Maybe it should’ve been, but it wasn’t.”

  “It does make sense, sort of.” She shifted in her saddle. “So were you scuba diving when this new way of thinking emerged?”

  He tugged on the left rein of his horse, turning around to go back home.

  She did the same. “Jacob?”

  “I offered you one question, Leah, and I’ve answered more than that.”

  “You know, you could hire a driver to take you to the ocean. You might get a few frowns from the church leaders and certain folks in the community, but there’s no rule against scuba diving.”

  “Ya. And maybe I will someday, but right now I’ve lost my stomach for it.”

  They rode home in silence, and Leah wondered why he’d shared that bit of his past. Was he telling her that he cared? That he was here for her, that he would dive deep into her life and pour money and effort into her?

  “Jacob, stop.”

  “Whoa.” He waited.

  She brought her horse to a halt beside his. “I … I might be … pregnant.”

  He showed no emotion, much as he’d done when they had played board games. “But you’re not sure?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you … late?”

  This was a miserable topic to discuss with a brother, but at least he wasn’t overreacting. “I’ve always had times of missing …” She shrugged. “Mamm says it’s ’cause I carry extra weight.”

  “I’ll get a pregnancy test for you later today. If you want to talk after that, I’ll be around. Otherwise, it’s your business, not mine.”

  He was so matter of fact, so calm. How was he going to get a test without causing suspicion? How embarrassing would it be for him to take such a thing to a cashier? But none of that seemed to bother him.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  She should’ve known he wouldn’t bother her with any questions, certainly nothing prying or accusatory. “No.”

  He waited, giving her time to change her mind.

  “Denki, Jacob.” Tears blurred her vision.

  He leaned toward her in his saddle, reaching out to her. She put her hand in his, feeling the strength and calluses. He squeezed gently, neither condoning nor condemning what she’d done, and once again it seemed she’d been wrong about how her family felt toward her. If she’d been seeing them wrong for years, what else was twisted in her thinking?

  As if a strong wind had kicked up unexpectedly, she felt stirred by the love and understanding he expressed, and she longed not to be pregnant—to get a chance to start over.

  NINETEEN

  The smell of leather, old wood, hay, and horses surrounded Samuel as he stared at the ledger in front of him. The barn had housed the Kings’ business office since long before Samuel was born, but how much longer? The chair under him creaked as he shifted to pull another book from a nearby shelf.

  He’d gone to see Rhoda on Saturday, and it was now Thursday. It’d been difficult not to pick up the phone and call her, but he’d exercised patience. How much longer should he give her to cool off and have a refreshed view of his offer?

  His father leaned forward in his chair beside the desk, looking at the figures Samuel had been working on. “If we get our usual six bushels of cider apples from each tree in your and Jacob’s sections, plus fifteen bushels of cider apples from each of Eli’s trees, that’s what? Around six thousand bushels of cider apples?” He whistled. “If we don’t work out something with Rhoda, we’ll be stuck with a lot of apples, because there’s no way we can sell that many in one season.”

  “Actually, it’ll be closer to seven thousand four hundred and forty-seven bushels of cider apples. And I doubt she could keep up with a tenth of that. But we’ll figure out what she can do, and whatever that is, it’ll cut our losses some. If she’ll agree to work for us.”

  “I’m really surprised you’re willing to do this with a one-woman operation.”

  “Me too. And surprised you’re letting me.”

  “Your grandfather always intended for you to run this orchard, and when the time came, I was more than glad to turn it over to you. Before that, I was bone weary of keeping up with the orchard and our small herd. It’s sort of like retiring to having only one full-time job.” He grinned. “I’m relieved that Jacob returned to help and that Eli is showing a good interest in it too. I figure all that help in the orchard is why God gave me sons.”

  Samuel tapped his pencil on his ledger. “You don’t have just sons, Daed.”

  “True. Maybe in time I’ll have sons-in-law too.” Daed’s chuckle raised Samuel’s hackles.

  “We’re talking about bringing a woman into our business, and I have to wonder if she’d be where she is today if her Daed and brothers treated her the way we treat Leah, Katie, and Betsy—as if they’re too girly to be any real help.”

  “Oh, good grief. You sound like Jacob. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. Not one of the girls has shown any interest in the dairy or the orchard.”

  “Ya, I know. And I always thought the same thing. But maybe it’s because we haven’t spoken their language. What did you do to get us interested?”

  “Started young. You boys loved coming to the orchard before you could walk. Then, when you were older, I paid you for your time, made your efforts worth it to you.”

  “Exactly. There was always a payoff for us. I’m hoping by bringing Rhoda in, Leah will feel there’s a payoff for her.”

  “Leah has no interest in any kind of work. Have you forgotten that?”

  “Maybe she’s not as lazy as she is disinterested. And if she learned to enjoy the work, she might start feeling good about her abilities and make some money too.”

  “Seems to me all any girl wants to do is stay at home and make new dresses until she catches the eye of a worthy man.”

  “Really? Or is that all we’ve expected from them, so it’s all we’ve gotten?”

  Daed stroked his beard, quietly thinking for several minutes. “Do you really believe Rhoda’s capable of keeping up with a good portion of the cider apples we’ll send her way?”

  Samuel let him switch the subject. He’d planted enough seeds of change for now. “I don’t know the answer to that yet. She has no need of us. She likes her business the way it is, and it’d be easy for her to walk away. I should call her soon, though, let her know we’re still interested.”

  Daed turned the desk phone toward him. “Speaking of making calls, I’m ready to do a little of that myself. I think I’ll find out what’s up by dialing the news line.”

  Samuel grinned. “Maybe you should call the Amish chat line instead. Neighborhood gossip would probably help your disposition more than breaking news.”

  The good old Amish chat lines—dozens and dozens, at t
imes hundreds, of Amish people across the states on the phone at the same time, some taking turns talking, others listening silently for hours at a time. If one person mentioned an event on a chat line, it spread like wildfire.

  Daed pointed a finger at him, his eyes dancing with humor. “Thanks for the reminder. After I call the news line, I’ll check the chat line. Business before pleasure, after all.”

  His father picked up the receiver of the phone, and Samuel returned to looking at the ledgers. He couldn’t shake the feeling that going with Rhode Side Stands was the right plan, the only plan.

  If she’d let him look at her overhead and profits, he could get a better sense of what kind of offer would make this venture worth her time. But she had to be willing to entertain the idea of partnering with them before he could ask to see her records.

  Daed snapped his fingers to get Samuel’s attention. He covered the receiver with his hand. “That woman with the canning business,” he whispered. “Did you say her name is Rhoda Byler and she’s from Morgansville?”

  Samuel nodded.

  Daed returned his attention to the phone, listened for a few more minutes, and then hung up.

  “Well?” Samuel asked. “Was there news about Rhoda?”

  Daed stood and paced the small room. “Folks on the chat line are absolutely buzzing about her. Seems she broke into an elderly neighbor’s home.”

  “Why on earth would she do that?”

  “Rumor is she had some kind of feeling this woman needed help. Folks are calling it a premonition.”

  “And did the neighbor need help?”

  “Apparently so. They say she was passed out in her sunroom. She has two grown children who don’t live close by, and when some official contacted them, they said they have some suspicions where Rhoda is concerned. One of Mrs. Walker’s children thinks Rhoda may have caused their Mamm to fall when she broke the woman’s window and barged in.”

  What a tangled mess. Based on the conversations he’d had with Rhoda and her family over dinner and the compassionate way she’d treated Leah, he couldn’t imagine her doing anything malicious.

  “Her children aren’t pressing charges, at least not yet. But the police have been questioning everyone, including Rhoda.”

  “Sounds ridiculous to me. Rhoda must’ve had a good reason for breaking into the woman’s house besides a—what’d you call it?—a premonition.”

  Daed tugged on the phone cord. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This is the same girl whose sister was shot at that market about two years ago. The one who ‘saw’ the incident before it happened. Or so the rumors said.”

  That was Rhoda? Some vague pieces from last Saturday’s conversation finally took shape. When Samuel first heard about the incident years ago, with all the confusing reports about the girl being killed and her sister predicting it, he’d been intrigued. Some said she had a sixth sense and practiced witchcraft. He’d never imagined that he would one day consider going into business with her.

  “People get spooked way too easily. Everybody gets ‘inner feelings’ from time to time.” Samuel’s feeling about Rhode Side Stands was like that. It made little logical sense. “Daadi Sam planted apple trees on this land because he had a dream about it.” Samuel and his siblings had heard the story since they were old enough to sit in a lap and listen.

  “That’s true.” Daed held up his hands. “She sounds flaky to me, but the decisions concerning her are up to you and Jacob.” He left the barn.

  Samuel picked up the phone and called Rhoda. He wouldn’t mention the gossip he’d just heard, but he wanted to get a feel for how she was faring. He chuckled. Since he was looking for a gut feeling, maybe the gossipers should label him a seer.

  After waiting through several rings, he assumed he’d get an answering machine. What would Darcy of Pride and Prejudice say when leaving a voice mail? he wondered.

  Instead, someone picked up. “Look, I recognize your number. I don’t appreciate being mocked. Stop calling me.” Rhoda’s tone was cool but even.

  “Rhoda.” He tried to grab her attention before she hung up. “It’s Samuel. Samuel King.”

  “Samuel?” After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat. “But your number.” He heard several beeps as if she was scrolling through the caller ID. “I … I’m so sorry. Your number is one digit different from … I thought you were someone else.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that.” He tapped a pencil on his desk. He’d heard all he needed to. She was fine, and that’s all he had to know to move forward. “I was wondering if you were ready to set a day and a time to come to the orchard.”

  “No, not yet. I have a lot to do around here.”

  “Ya, I know you’re busy. But, well, the truth is, I need you to consider my proposal, and to do that you really should visit. Since it’s a family operation, I’d like you to meet my family to get a real feel for who we are.”

  The silence on the line made Samuel wonder if he was pushing too hard too quickly.

  “Actually, there are some things you should know about me.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  She haltingly told him about the situation with her neighbor, explaining the break-in and her intuition about the elderly woman.

  “None of that has any bearing on our discussion of a business relationship.”

  “I think we’ve found something we can agree on.”

  “Gut. I hope that’s just the start. Is there any way you could fit in a visit tomorrow? I’m sure we could do it in about four hours, if necessary.”

  “Well,”—it sounded as if she was looking through papers, maybe a calendar—“I suppose I could.”

  Samuel grinned. “Perfect. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a personal question.”

  “Depends on the question.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  The line was silent, painfully so.

  “I’m not sure that’s a proper subject for a business conversation.”

  “It most certainly is.” The men in Pride and Prejudice would have been slow and careful with their response, and he realized anew that he fell dismally short. If that’s what Rhoda needed, would he be able to deliver? “What I mean is, there’s no point in our discussing plans for this fall if you might abandon them to get married.” He wished he could see Rhoda’s face. Or better yet, read her thoughts.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Samuel. Around one?”

  “Does that mean you don’t have anyone serious in your life?”

  “Good-bye, Samuel.”

  She wasn’t going to answer him, not right now anyway. Or maybe she had and he didn’t know it. “Bye.” He hung up, hoping tomorrow went as smoothly as the future of Kings’ Orchard needed it to.

  TWENTY

  Leah sat on her bed, staring at the pregnancy test. She’d spent most of the day right here, trying to absorb her new reality. Her Mamm had left her alone, probably because Jacob convinced her to give Leah some much-needed space today. She had used that time to cry until she felt numb.

  She couldn’t keep waiting for Michael to come over. She had to go see him. Surely he’d be home on a Thursday night.

  “Leah?” Mamm called.

  Guilt and fear pressed in, making her hesitant to face her Mamm. She hid the pregnancy test under her pillow and moved to the landing. “Ya?”

  Her mother gave her the once-over. “We’re going to my sister’s. Do you want to get ready and go with us?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure? She’s making ice cream.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay. Be good. We’ll be home around ten.”

  Her mother stared at her for a long moment. “Bischt allrecht?”

  Leah’s mouth went dry. No, she wasn’t well … not even close. She wanted to curl up in her mother’s arms until all her fears faded into nothingness.

  “Ya, Mamm, I’m fine.” H
er feet didn’t want to move, but Leah went back into her bedroom. She meandered to the bed and pulled out the pregnancy test. One blue line stared back at her from inside the little window on the stick.

  She slid it into her pillowcase and made her bed before she picked up a hairbrush off the nightstand. After she brushed her hair, she pinned it up and bundled it inside her organdy prayer Kapp. She put on her nicest Amish dress—the one that used to be Michael’s favorite.

  A light evening breeze stirred the humid air, and June bugs and tree frogs sang loudly as she walked to Michael’s place. With each step she silently rehearsed what she’d say to him. She couldn’t blurt out that she was pregnant. She’d have to lead into it. But by the time she stepped onto his gravel driveway forty minutes later, she still hadn’t come up with a good way to share her news.

  His house loomed large and uninviting, but she kept forcing herself to take one step after another. She was almost to the front porch when Michael barreled out the door, holding a set of keys. She’d been with him when he bought the old car he kept hidden behind the barn.

  Once at the foot of the porch steps, he saw her and stopped short. “Leah. What are you doing here?”

  “I … We need to talk.”

  His eyes moved down her. “You look good.” He headed for the back of the barn. “Maybe next week sometime,” he called over his shoulder.

  She hurried to catch up with him. “Got plans with that girl from the party?”

  “No.” He opened his car door. “Just meetin’ some of the guys.”

  “Michael,” she said more forcefully, “could you manage to give me five minutes?”

  He sighed and closed the door without getting inside. He leaned against his car, and for the first time in quite a while, he finally seemed to see her. “You still upset over what happened at the party?”

  “It was very hurtful, but, no, that’s not what this is about.”

  He paused, studying her. “What’s wrong?”

  This was the man she knew him to be, caring and gentle. Even though she dreaded telling him, she clung to the hope that he would step up and offer to marry her.