“I’m pretty sure who did this.” The sadness on her face gave way to hardness. “Rueben Glick.” Her lips curled as if saying his name brought a bad taste to her mouth.
Samuel waited for her to explain.
“Remember the man Eli talked to when you were here a few days ago?”
“Ya.”
“He’s Rueben Glick, and he may be quite a baseball player, but he’s the reason I had to get rid of my herb garden. He convinced Mrs. Walker and others that I used the herbs for some sort of black magic.”
Samuel looked around the barren field. “And you think he’s responsible for this?”
“Ya, I do.”
He stood. “Even though it’s not the Amish way to call the police, I think you should this time.”
“No.”
He held out his hand. She moved the blueberry bush to one arm and put her other hand in his, letting him help her up.
She gazed into his eyes. “I believe in our ways, Samuel, even when there’s little evidence to indicate our nonresistance works.”
“It’s perfectly acceptable to involve the authorities when destruction of this magnitude takes place.”
She cradled her blueberry bush, staring into the fire, reflections of the flames dancing in her eyes. “Maybe God is letting me get what I deserve, or some small part of it. If I hadn’t been so driven by tending and harvesting my strawberries, I would’ve taken my sister to the store earlier in the day, and she’d still be alive.”
Samuel shook his head. “I’m sorry about your sister, and I can’t begin to know the pain and guilt of what you’ve been through. But, Rhodes, this isn’t God showing you His will. This is what godless men do while trying to show their might.”
“My decision stands. Now all I need to do is figure out how to forgive Rueben.”
Rueben being forgiven wasn’t high on Samuel’s list. He was more interested in Rhoda thinking about what he’d said and finding a way to let go of her guilt concerning Emma.
And he didn’t agree with Rhoda letting Rueben off the hook so easily. God used civil authority to confront the lawlessness in people just as He used doctors to confront the sickness in people. But he’d leave this topic alone—for now.
THIRTY-FIVE
With two freshly baked blueberry pies on the seat beside her, Catherine held the reins firmly, guiding the carriage toward Samuel’s house. She’d seen him early that morning, when he, Jacob, and Leah finally arrived back at their uncle’s home. Immediately after they got there, everyone piled into the van, Craig drove them to Harvest Mills, and he dropped Catherine off at her place. During the trip home, the three explained what had taken place at Rhoda’s, but Catherine didn’t get a moment to speak to Samuel alone. In part because he was exhausted, but something else was on his mind too.
And she had to know what it was.
A multitude of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, but her nervousness over seeing Samuel was about the only emotion she had that made sense. It was awful—a tragedy, really—that Rhoda’s fruit garden had been destroyed. But Catherine wasn’t as sad as she was threatened by it. Besides, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Catherine had been ugly and petty about Rhoda, and Samuel had seen it. To make matters worse, he was still disappointed in her for telling Arlan that Leah might be pregnant. It was a careless remark, and she shouldn’t have given in to the temptation to say it. She just wanted Arlan to wake up and realize who Leah really was. Now Catherine looked like a whiny, gossipy, green-eyed monster.
She pulled up in front of the house and stopped. Truth was, she had to get her thinking straight, her mouth under control, and her attitude right before she wrecked her future. Everything Samuel told her about Rhoda made sense, and maybe he hadn’t been flirting with her. All Catherine knew for sure was that she disliked and distrusted Rhoda.
And it made no difference that she had no basis for those feelings.
Trying to shake off her self-loathing, she got out of the carriage and managed to pick up a pie in each hand. When she reached the house, she used her foot to knock on the screen door. Hope immediately started yapping and came running from the kitchen.
Leah stood at the sink, washing dishes, and glanced through the screen door. “Kumm.”
That’s all the welcome Catherine got and maybe was more than she deserved.
“Hi, Leah.” Catherine held up the pies, indicating she couldn’t open the door on her own.
Leah pulled her hands out of the sudsy water, grabbed a dishtowel, and headed her way.
Catherine’s heart remained on Samuel. He was a good man who hadn’t been in a hurry to find a girl. He attended singings, but only because he liked social gatherings. Catherine had set her sights on him from the start and had done all manner of attention-getting tricks before he gave her a second glance—not that he knew that. And now, when their relationship wasn’t progressing the way she wanted, she blamed him.
That was just wrong.
Leah opened the door, but she didn’t offer to take one of the pies. She simply returned to the sink.
Samuel’s mother, Elizabeth, walked into the kitchen. “Hope, hush!” She pointed outside. “Betsy, come take this dog out before she has an accident.” She turned to Catherine and took one of the pies. “Welcome. It’s always so nice to see you, and you’re always bringing us such delicious blessings.”
Catherine glanced at Leah. Apparently she hadn’t informed her mother about what Catherine had said about her. “Denki.” She set the pie on the counter next to where Elizabeth had put the other one. “Is Samuel around?”
“He’s not inside. That’s about all I know. Probably in the orchard or the office.”
Catherine waited, hoping Leah would volunteer to help her find him as she had always done before. Samuel’s sister seemed able to walk the farm for a few minutes and just know where Samuel was.
Catherine remained at the island. If she had a few minutes with Leah, she could apologize again and get Leah to warm up a bit. She bet Leah hadn’t given Rhoda the cold shoulder as they worked side by side throughout the night to get her acre in good order. And no doubt, neither had Jacob or Samuel—
No. Stop it. Catherine shook those thoughts away. She had to get a better attitude before she really messed up how Samuel felt about her. “Did you get some sleep when you got home?”
“Ya,” Leah rinsed a plate. “I slept most of the day, but I think Jacob and Samuel only took naps.”
“That’s good to know. He’ll be irritable, and I’d better tread lightly. Or maybe just leave.” She meant it as teasing, but Leah flashed her a nasty look.
“Good idea. Go home.”
“Leah,” Mamm scolded.
Catherine felt caught in a snare. But what really upset her was that it was one of her own making.
Jacob walked to the open door of the barn office. He needed to call Sandra, and he’d expected the office to be empty at this time of day. But Samuel and Eli were there, apparently in the middle of a serious discussion about Rhoda’s ruined fruit patch. Jacob would call Sandra later.
Rhoda needed help, and he had the ability to provide it. If only he could.
Feeling numb and overwhelmed, he walked to the summer kitchen. The gaps in two dilapidated walls and the missing roof mocked him. He had the skills to remodel this place, to make it better than it’d ever been. It could be perfect for what Rhoda needed.
He went to the fallen tree and sat. His palms were sweating, and his heart raced at the thought of doing carpentry work. But he wanted to do this for Rhoda, to give her a roomy, spacious kitchen with lots of windows.
The scenery around him faded, and he saw himself on the roof of a two-story home. Men were crawling all over the place—inside the house, on the roof, in the yard. They’d worked long, hard days, and he’d known every number associated with the job—from the amount of roofing nails they’d need, to how many cubic yards of concrete were in the foundation, to the exact taxes each man would ow
e, whether he worked forty hours or overtime.
Jacob had enjoyed the work. It felt right and good. And he never had to hide his talents. If he wanted to try his hand at something brand-new, Blaine, the construction foreman, was glad for him to do it. Moreover, Skeet Jones, the developer, groomed Jacob to be the lead carpenter of his company. It didn’t take long for Jacob to prove himself in that position. He’d been doing carpentry work full-time for his uncle since he was fourteen. In less than a year, Jacob had worked his way up from lead carpenter to superintendent. He wore an expensive leather tool belt that jangled as he walked, and he kept it filled with tools and hardware. It was hard to believe now, but at the time he believed that job had freed him.
Then the lies began falling like droplets all around him.
In one way his realization began the day Blaine climbed the ladder to the roof, carrying a heavy load of shingles.
“Help.” Blaine’s red face dripped with sweat.
Jacob hurried across the roof to him. “You don’t do manual labor. What are you thinking?” He pulled the weight off him and tossed the shingles on the roof.
“Sandra.” Blaine spoke barely over a whisper, trying to catch his breath. Jacob looked below, spotting Sandra, his wife, standing near her Ford Explorer, her hand shielding her eyes as she watched Blaine.
“You’re going to kill yourself trying to impress your wife.” Jacob picked up the bundle of shingles and tossed them higher onto the roof where the workers were.
Blaine finished climbing the ladder. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Some things are too stupid to understand.”
When he looked back, Blaine was losing his balance.
Before Jacob could get to the man, he fell. Jacob lunged, grabbing Blaine’s hand. Jacob landed on the roof with a thud, but he held onto Blaine, whose arms gripped the roof while the rest of his body dangled—
“Jacob?”
Jacob nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned from staring at the summer kitchen to find Samuel beside him, his hand on Jacob’s shoulder. Jacob blinked, a cold shudder running through him.
His brother sat on the log beside him. “I always saw this old place as nothing but an eyesore. Now when I look at it, I wonder what our ancestors’ lives were really like. Did our great-great-grandfather argue with his girl like I’ve been doing with Catherine?”
“No comment.” Jacob drew a deep breath, trying to release the memories he’d just recalled. Samuel never asked questions, not because he didn’t care, but because he did. “It sounds so simple—pick up a hammer and get to work.”
“Jacob, I’ve made a decision, and I don’t mean it to corner you in any way.”
“Concerning …”
“I’m going to dip into my savings and use it to help Rhoda find some new land to rent or buy. Maybe use some of it to help her get a better setup.”
“You haven’t pulled out money in ten years or more. It’s been the hammer you couldn’t make yourself pick up, so why now?”
“I believe she’s the answer we need, and now that she doesn’t have to tend to her own garden, she has the time and energy to pour into Kings’ Orchard. All we need to do is create a kitchen where she can get the maximum done in a day. I know that sounds selfish, but I believe she needs to be busy.”
“Ya, I agree with that.”
“About her destroyed garden, remember the man Eli talked to while we were at Rhoda’s?”
“Of course. Neither Rhoda nor her family seemed comfortable with him dropping by.”
“I spoke with Eli about it. He didn’t mean to do anything wrong, but he told Rueben that Rhoda and her family would be gone last night.” Samuel studied him. “I can’t begin to understand someone like Rueben, and I’ll see to it that charges against him are brought to his church leaders.”
Jacob knew he should mind his own business, but he had to make sure Samuel had thought to involve Catherine in this decision. “Have you talked to Catherine about pulling money from your savings to invest in the partnership with Rhoda?”
“Not yet. She won’t take it well, but this venture could be the real future for Kings’ Orchard. She doesn’t have to understand that right now.”
Jacob stared at the summer kitchen, shaking his head. “I’m wrestling with the idea of remodeling this place.”
“I know.”
“Since Rhoda has no reason now to stay near that cramped cellar, this place would be ideal for canning our apples. Between your money and my skill, we could make this the best canning kitchen ever.”
Samuel broke off a piece of bark. “And if you can’t do it, we’ll use my money to hire the remodeling job and still manage to make it better than what she has now.”
Jacob swallowed despite how dry his mouth felt. “I want a chance to get past my hang-ups.”
“I think you should.”
“Ya, mostly because if I don’t, you’ll look like a hero, and I’ll look like something the cat dragged in.”
“She doesn’t know you were a skilled carpenter, and she won’t know where the money came from, other than Kings’ Orchard.”
“I loved it out there, Samuel. Not just the ocean or my job, but the people. When my world fell apart, you’ll never believe what I missed most of all.”
“Leah’s challenging ways?”
Jacob chuckled. “Us. Just you and me, as different as night and day, talking until we figured out what to do about whatever mountain stood before us, whether dealing with the orchard or my construction jobs.”
“Don’t forget we also skirt around the ones we don’t want to climb.”
“Until now.”
Samuel nodded. “Until now.”
Jacob wanted to tell his brother why he couldn’t pick up a hammer. At least, about some pieces of those missing years. “I actually saved his life.”
Samuel focused on him, surprise reflected in his eyes, but he didn’t ask whose life. He waited, and Jacob knew his brother was ready to listen all day if Jacob wanted it.
“Blaine McAlister, carpenter foreman. We were on a roof, and he’s a big man who almost fell off. I held on, though most of his body was dangling from the roof. I couldn’t pull him up, but there was no way I was going to let go. Because of the angle—we were at the corner of the building—no one else on the roof could help me. I could hear Blaine’s wife screaming. The three of us were good friends, or so I thought.” Jacob swallowed hard. “While holding on to him, battling to keep a grip until someone could get a ladder moved or something, I thought that once he was safe, things would be right again. I believed saving his life was the only acceptable outcome. But that was the beginning of the end of hundreds of lives.”
Samuel’s brown eyes reflected the respect and compassion Jacob needed to go on with his story. But he’d no sooner opened his mouth than they heard Catherine calling to Samuel.
Samuel moaned. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and headed toward the sound of her voice.
But after a few minutes, Jacob knew Samuel couldn’t get away, and if he did, the mood between them wouldn’t be the same. He got up and waved to Samuel from a distance. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”
THIRTY-SIX
Unbelievable.
Samuel watched Jacob leave, and it was all he could do to restrain his anger. After years of waiting for Jacob to open up to him, he had to be interrupted by Catherine. And then, when he asked her to go away quietly and let him and Jacob talk, what did she do?
Refuse.
“Why is everything that’s going on in your life more important than what’s going on in mine?” Catherine’s cheeks flushed in frustration. “It’s like I need to take a number and wait in line, the way I do at that bakery I hate going to.”
Samuel was weary of her demands. “It’s not more important. But if we had a date and I arrived to discover you and Arlan in the middle of a serious talk, I’d leave you two alone.”
“If Arlan were actually talking to me and
you showed up, I’d invite you to join us and be thrilled you had finally found the time to have a conversation with him!”
“And I’d stay because it’s what you want, but I asked you to give Jacob and me time. Instead of going to the house and waiting, you started complaining.”
“So everything I do lately is wrong, is that it?”
“Pretty much, ya.” Samuel wasn’t backing down, and at this moment he didn’t care where it led. “Look in the mirror, Catherine. Figure out what’s going on with you, because I can’t keep doing this.”
“What are you saying?”
Her wide brown eyes bore into his, and he knew he should find the words to ease the tension, to calm their emotions. Several sentences came to mind that would bring perspective for both of them, but he couldn’t make himself say any of them. “I’m tired. I was up all night, and this heat is wearing on everyone. I think we should go our separate ways today before we burn a bridge.”
“It was your choice to work all through the night to help Rhoda, and now you’re too tired to talk to me? I don’t like who she’s become in your life, Samuel. I don’t like it at all.”
“I came up with this plan for us, for you in particular, and it’s not good enough? I expected that saving the orchard from financial ruin would make you happy, but that seems impossible.”
“You should’ve talked to me about it first.”
Samuel stared at the woman before him. “Okay, maybe I should have. If you feel this strongly about it, I guess I was wrong.”
“I don’t want Rhoda to be a part of our lives. Period.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “My plan is a solid one, and the King family needs her expertise. If she’ll accept my help, it’ll be good for all of us.”
She backed away from him. “What kind of help are you talking about giving her?”
“Time, energy, and money for starters.”
“Money from where?” She looked at him quizzically, and after a moment understanding registered on her face.
A Season for Tending: Book One in the Amish Vines and Orchards Series Page 26