Denki, Father. Denki for Your love, for my family, for food and clothing, for my business. She paused, unsure whether to ask Him again about this proposition Samuel had made. Goodness knows the man himself sparked her interest, but he had someone. So what was the right thing to do? Break all ties, or take on enough work that she could hire Landon full-time?
Poor Landon. He’d never been in love with his job, but not having one at all was so much worse. His last day would be in a week or so.
Daed shifted his flatware, letting her know prayer time was over. She chided herself for not praying throughout that time. What had begun as a prayer had ended with her pondering questions. She hadn’t given God or her family the respect due them.
She put the cloth napkin in her lap. “I really am sorry for being late. I know it’s annoying.”
John cut some long noodles into manageable pieces for his four-year-old. “You need to wear a buzzer around your neck that vibrates a little stronger for every five minutes you’re late.”
Her brother Steven choked on the water he was drinking. “Chicken feathers, John.” Steven coughed into his napkin while others chuckled. “If it keeps increasing every few minutes, it’ll end up shocking her to the point of pain or death.”
John passed her the pan of chicken spaghetti. “I think the fact that you know she’ll continue ignoring it until she’s in pain or unconscious is all the justification I need for being annoyed.”
“You want me to list all you do that annoys the rest of us?” Steven shot back. “How about if we start with the number of times you’ve woken me up this week? You just have to keep your own hours, banging around at midnight. The babies being up and crying is one thing, but your nonsense is flat-out ridiculous.”
“I’m not going to bed at nine or ten to suit you.”
“Fine. But stop pulling out pans to pop popcorn or heat up leftovers after everyone’s settled for the night.”
John passed his wife the salt and pepper. “At least I don’t leave a trail of destruction in my path as I go through the house. You’re worse than all the children combined. And everyone knows when you’ve brushed your teeth because the toothbrush is left out, and there’s toothpaste all over the sink and counter.”
Lydia stayed focused on her two-year-old daughter, and Phoebe didn’t lift her eyes from her plate. The two young women did their best to keep peace and to reduce the tension between Rhoda’s brothers, but John and Steven were as opposite in nature as a cat and a dog. Rhoda’s ability to get lost in her work and tune out the rest of the household made her oblivious some of the time, maybe most of the time.
Daed picked up his knife and clinked it on his glass. When the room grew quiet, he put the knife on his plate. “We have blueberry cheesecake for dessert with my favorite, a graham cracker crust.”
Mamm grinned. “Drizzled with chocolate sauce.”
Daed lifted his glass toward his lips and paused. “So what did you young men get done at the Potter place today?”
Steven and John locked eyes. Clearly, the work hadn’t gone well. Considering they spent twenty-four hours under the same roof most days, it was surprising they got along as well as they did. But she hadn’t seen this level of tension in a long time. Maybe it was the news of two more babies joining the ranks in a couple of months. Or maybe her eyes were now open to the stress because God was trying to tell her something.
She looked down at her plate. “While you’re gone over the weekend, I’m going to a King family function in Lancaster.”
The frustration dropped from her brothers’ faces. They hoped that if she agreed to can for Kings’ Orchard, she would give up her oversized berry patch. But she couldn’t do that. Those plants were gifts from her Daed because he believed in her dream. And with her profits she helped the family make ends meet, and she put money away so she could one day build a kitchen that wasn’t in a cellar.
“All weekend?” Concern creased Steven’s brow.
“No, just Friday evening. They have relatives in Lancaster, and that’s where it’ll be held. ‘The boys,’ as their Mamm calls them, will pick me up and bring me home.”
“Tomorrow?” Mamm studied her.
“Ya. I guess I should’ve mentioned it sooner, but I only agreed on Tuesday to go.”
“You don’t look excited about it at all.”
Rhoda turned to Phoebe. “I wish I knew what to do. Part of me wants to help the Kings. Part of me needs to do so for Landon’s sake. But I keep wavering, like wheat in an open field.”
Lydia jumped up and left the table. “Ach, I meant to tell you!” She jerked open a kitchen drawer and pulled out a small faded-blue book. “Look what I found.” She handed the book to Rhoda.
Rhoda eased open the delicate book, and her heart began pounding like crazy. Mammi Byler’s recipes! The yellowed pages filled with faded ink had never looked so wonderful, and even with the extra wear and tear the book had been through since she’d last seen it, her great-great-grandmother’s handwriting was still readable. These pages held apple recipe after apple recipe.
Could this be the sign she’d been asking for?
“You found them!” Rhoda pulled them to her chest, feeling so many things. A few moments later she studied them again. “Look, she’s got recipes for apple butter, applesauce, jelly, jam, and pie filling. None of these are like the ones we use.”
Lydia’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Phoebe and I have been ransacking the attic almost every day since Samuel ate supper with us.”
The thought of her sisters-in-law, especially Lydia at seven months’ pregnant, working in that attic for more than a week during the dog days of summer melted Rhoda’s heart. “You two.” She got up and gave them each a hug.
“And what about me?” Mamm said. “I did their chores while they searched.”
Tears fell from Rhoda’s eyes. “Denki.” She squeezed her Mamm tight.
John sighed. “I cleaned the supper dishes one evening, and Grump over here moved the heavy stuff for them.” He pointed at Steven.
She rolled her eyes and sat down. “Then I’ll hug your wives twice. Once for their hard work, and once for making you pitch in.”
Drawing the book close to her once again, she knew she’d never chance losing this treasure for a second time. She’d copy each recipe onto loose-leaf paper and tuck the original book away for safekeeping in a place her brothers would never dare to move a stick of furniture—her bedroom.
Steven rubbed his wife’s back. “Our little sister has a point, Brother.”
Little sister. How those words stung. Her brothers should have two little sisters, not one.
Rhoda studied the recipes again. If only Emma were here to enjoy this gift.
Daed smacked the table. “Ach, Rhoda, I forgot something too. I went by the hospital this morning to check on Mrs. Walker. Someone from her church was there and gave me an update. Her hip is broken, and she’s in what’s called a medically induced coma to help her body cope with the trauma.”
Rhoda found it hard to swallow. Would the woman be angry with her anew, wishing she’d died rather than go through what lay ahead for her? Should Rhoda have minded her own business? Or when she received inklings and insights, did that make it her business? She never knew for sure. She only hoped she’d made the right decision this time.
“That’s terrible.” Lydia voiced what everyone seemed to be feeling.
“Could be a lot worse.” Daed slowly twirled his fork, wrapping spaghetti around its tines. “The doctor said if she’d been in that house much longer, maybe as little as a few hours, she would’ve died. By the time her two grown children checked on her, it would have been too late.”
Rhoda knew what he was saying—that by following her intuition, she’d saved Mrs. Walker’s life. Would the woman or her children come to see it that way?
And what—she wondered for the umpteenth time—might have happened if she’d been quicker to follow her intuition two years ago?
Rhoda turn
ed her attention to the apple recipes again. “These are such a huge blessing. But there’s no way I can be of any real benefit to Kings’ Orchard.” She ran her fingers over a worn page. “I’m not the answer Samuel seeks.”
“Well, perhaps not when it comes to canning apples.” John pulled on his left earlobe, a habit of his when he dared to say something he shouldn’t.
Rhoda’s cheeks warmed. “He has someone.”
Lydia put a few more noodles on her two-year-old daughter’s plate. “If you’re not the answer and he has someone, why are you going Friday night?”
Rhoda looked through the recipes again, imagining her great-great-grandmother planting, tending, and harvesting apples. In her mind’s eye she could see her Mammi Byler as a young woman with little ones around her as she concocted her recipes, changing them as needed until they were perfect. “I’m not completely sure, but the orchard captured a part of me, and it won’t let go. And if I did this, I could hire Landon full-time, and he really needs the work.” She paused. “Jacob King’s sense of humor mends something in me, something so torn and forgotten I hadn’t realized it was still there.” She shrugged. “I know that sounds silly at best.”
Mamm grinned. “Is he seeing anyone?”
“I don’t think so, unless he was simply teasing, but it doesn’t really matter. I guess it took Samuel having a girlfriend for me to realize that the Kings’ proposition is purely business.”
“Knock, knock,” Landon called through the screen door.
“Kumm.” Mamm motioned for him.
Lydia and Phoebe got up. One took out dessert plates, and the other pulled a cheesecake out of the fridge. As Steven and Jacob cleared the dinner plates off the table, Landon grabbed a barstool from the kitchen island and moved it to his usual place, next to Rhoda.
Steven put the dirty plates in the sink. “When you went out to the King place, did you see any land or farms for sale?”
“I didn’t. Landon, did you?”
“No, but my grandmother lives in Unity, Maine, and it’s beautiful, with great soil and affordable farms.”
“Good grief, Landon.” Rhoda crossed her arms. “Let it go already.”
John tilted his head. “How affordable?”
Landon intertwined his fingers and stretched, popping his knuckles. “My granny’s always sending me information about homes and acreage for sale because she keeps hoping I’ll move up there near her. There are several houses sitting empty right now because of the economy. The other day I got an envelope full of ads from her. One old place with three greenhouses, an orchard, and eighty acres is selling for not much more than a hundred thousand dollars.”
“What?” John’s eyes went wide as he looked from Daed to Landon.
“That’s more sad than it is interesting.” Lydia put the blueberry cheesecake on the table in front of her husband. “An empty house means some family lost their home. An abandoned orchard means they probably lost a place that’s been in the family for generations.”
Lydia’s observation tugged at Rhoda’s heart. Isn’t that what Samuel was doing his best to prevent? Kings’ Orchard wasn’t to that point, not even close. But clearly the pressure was on, and Samuel was working hard to find solutions. It gave her a different view of his not telling her he had a girlfriend and his not sharing the circumstances with Catherine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate either of them for selfish interests. He was simply trying to hold on to what he had.
John helped himself to a slice of cheesecake. “I know plenty of Amish families who’d jump on the idea of starting a new community somewhere affordable if a church leader was willing to spearhead the move.”
“John,”—Daed made a downward motion with his hand, as if gesturing for a dog to calm itself——“you can’t imagine the work involved in establishing a self-sufficient, separate culture while cultivating good ties with the local community. It’s a nightmare. Trust me.”
Steven dug his fork into the dessert his wife had put in front of him. “I’m so sick of this downturn I can’t stand it. No wonder the Kings are willing to branch out and try something new. Crops always take the blows, what with the weather, insects, and such, but when the economy forces the costs of farming up and keeps the price of selling low …” He shook his head. “I don’t know how any farmer is holding on to his land these days.”
“Most aren’t,” John added.
Between the recipes in her hand and her brothers’ conversation, Rhoda wondered if it wasn’t merely Samuel and his family—and, for that matter, her family—trying to encourage her to work with them.
Was God directing her toward Kings’ Orchard?
THIRTY-ONE
Jacob added more wood to one of two bonfires he’d started. He stoked it, making sure the embers caught the new wood on fire. People filled his uncle’s yard. Tables had been set up outdoors on one side of the house, and volleyball nets were on the other. Some of the women were cooking in the kitchen. Others covered tables with snacks. Men performed their own task: preparing to grill the meat. Most of the youth spread out here and there, enjoying another pre-harvest kickoff.
It was about time for Samuel and him to drive a rig to Rhoda’s place. Eli wouldn’t be going with them. He was in the middle of playing baseball, and no one loved the game more than Eli.
Jacob went in search of Samuel. When he spotted Catherine, he knew Samuel wasn’t far away. She tossed a ball for Hope, but the only one fetching was Samuel.
Jacob laughed out loud. “Did it take you long to train Samuel to do that?”
His brother picked up the ball and slung it at Jacob. He ducked before it smacked him in the shoulder, making him laugh. Hope started barking.
“Tell your girl bye and meet me at the barn.” Jacob picked up the ball and tossed it toward the dog. Hope saw it coming, yelped as if she’d been injured, and ran back to Catherine for safety. The ball landed on the ground and rolled, untouched.
That dog was useless.
Jacob went to the barn and hitched a horse to a rig. About the time he was done, Samuel arrived and headed for the driver’s seat.
“Uh,”—Jacob stepped in front of him—“you’re in the passenger’s seat tonight. Up front on the way. In back once Rhoda’s in the carriage.”
“We’re keeping this all business, Jacob. I’ll drive. You ride in back once she joins us.”
“That ‘all business’ plan hasn’t worked in our favor. Time for a new plan.”
His brother stared at him, saying plenty without opening his mouth.
“Come on, Samuel. You’ve gotta cut me some slack about Rhoda. She’s fascinating and beautiful and not seeing anyone.”
Samuel went to the passenger’s side and got in. “We can’t afford for anything to get us off track.”
Jacob climbed in the driver’s side and took the reins in hand. “I hate to burst your balloon, but we’re not on track where she’s concerned. There is no track right now. Relax. Stop trying so hard and see what happens.”
“Do you intend to make your interest known?”
“No, of course not. It’s way too early for that, whether the business deal is on the table or not. I just want to enjoy one evening with her and see if we might be right for courting. If she goes into business with us, we’re only talking about one harvesting season. I’ll keep a respectable, business-focused distance until it’s over.”
“I’ve only talked to her about one season, but if she accepts and it goes well, I’d like to work together for as many years as she is willing.”
Jacob propped his elbow on the open window. “And maybe, if she and I did grow to care for each other, our involvement would make her more likely to hear you out, not less.”
“You’re just coming up with arguments to do this your way.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you believe that if you work hard enough to do things well enough, you can fix every situation. You can’t. No one can. Relax a little. Let this thing with Rhoda take its own course.”
Samuel sighed. “Life is not that simple.”
Jacob shook his head and fell silent. Nothing else he could say on the topic would change Samuel’s mind. Soon they were pulling into Rhoda’s driveway.
Samuel and Jacob got out of the rig. He went toward the garden, and Samuel started for the front door of the house, but then he followed Jacob. Before Jacob opened the gate, he spotted Rhoda crouched in front of a blackberry bush, picking berries and whispering to herself. Maybe she was praying. He cleared his throat, but she didn’t notice him. Instead she looked to the back of her garden as if seeing someone, and she spoke aloud. “Of course I should go tonight.”
Jacob glanced at his brother.
Samuel shrugged. “There’s a fair amount about her you don’t know, and this is just one aspect.”
Jacob opened the gate. “Rhoda?”
She startled and quickly rose to her feet. “Is it already that late?” She picked up the gallon pail and came out of the garden.
Jacob pulled out his pocket watch, wishing he’d arrived to find her primping rather than talking to herself … or to someone in her imagination. “Five minutes ’til seven.” He took the container from her, and she peeled out of her gloves.
“Kumm.” She went inside, and they followed her. After she took the container from Jacob, she washed her hands. “Samuel, you’ll never guess what my sisters-in-law found.”
“Do I get a hint?”
“My great-great-Mammi Byler.”
Jacob watched Samuel and saw recollection flash in his eyes.
“You found her recipes?”
“We did!”
Rhoda sounded so giddy that Jacob almost smiled. The surprise of seeing her talk to herself began to wear off. It was bound to be a simple habit.
“I made several batches of items from her recipes today.” She went to the table and put her hand on a cardboard box. “You can get them tonight when you bring me home.”
Samuel walked to the box. “I say we take them now and let everyone who’s interested have a taste.”
A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series Page 23