They continued on to the last barrel in this quadrant. When she turned the rig toward the barn, Steven crawled over the bench seat and sat beside her. They rode in silence. Sometimes when she was weary and wanting to be near the house, these eighty acres felt as large as the state of Maine.
Zara started barking and took off running. Steven pointed to a silhouette of a man on horseback topping a hill on the horizon. Samuel was finally home.
Steven held out his hands, offering to take the reins. “He’s a good man.”
Her shoulders ached, and she gladly put the strips of leather in her brother’s control, but she bristled at his statement. “He is, and so is Jacob.”
Steven’s face was void of any reaction, but she wasn’t fooled. He favored Samuel over Jacob.
“I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks of Jacob. I know the truth about him, and I love him.”
Steven kept his eyes straight ahead. “Don’t kid yourself, Rhoda. You do care what we think. You’ve tried to hide from Daed and Mamm just how out of sorts Jacob is with the Amish ways.”
Ire ran through her blood, making her body flush with heat. She jerked the quilt off her legs. “I’ve never lied to anyone to cover for him. He’s the one who said I must never lie for him, and his past is being wiped clean by what he’s doing right now.”
“Never—”
“Hey.” Samuel waved as he rode toward them. “Leah said you two were out here.”
Rhoda was glad Samuel had arrived in time to stop Steven from finishing his sentence. Moreover, she longed for news. “How’s Camilla?”
Even as the woman’s name crossed Rhoda’s lips, she saw patchwork images—Camilla begging her son, her purse overflowing with money, her son turning his back on her. Rhoda knew the money was symbolic, not literal, but what did it mean? What was that medical building they were standing in front of? And why couldn’t anything simply look like what it was?
Steven brought the rig to a stop just as Samuel halted beside them.
Samuel fidgeted with a large brown bag in his hand. “She’s good and improving, but they’re going to keep her overnight. Aside from the shock she experienced, she has first- and second-degree burns from the lobster stew she was bringing us. She sent Bob home to get some sleep, so he dropped me off.” He slid off his horse, still clutching the bag. “I went into the house before coming out here. Phoebe was sitting in the kitchen, just staring at the fire.” He held the reins to his horse out to Steven. “I think you should go inside for a bit.”
Steven climbed out of the wagon. Once his feet were on the ground, he looked up at her. “To finish what I wanted to say. You didn’t lie to anyone? How about to yourself?”
A dozen retorts came to mind, but she bit her tongue. Besides, in what way did he think she’d lied to herself? But Steven was exhausted, concerned about his wife, and grieving their loss. Otherwise, he would’ve kept his opinion to himself.
Samuel climbed onto the bench beside her. “What was that about?”
“A brother under stress, saying things he doesn’t mean.”
“Really? I’m a brother. I have two of them. I’ve never known any of us to behave that way.”
She picked up the reins. “Speaking of liars.”
He smiled. “Did you ever eat?”
“No. I wasn’t hungry.”
“Hungry or not, you’re stopping to eat.” He held up the brown bag.
Despite her stomach rumbling with emptiness, his commands irked her. “I hate it when you get bossy. You know that, right?”
“I do. Now set the brake. We’re pausing to snack.” He put the bag between his feet.
She stifled a laugh. “Why do you do that?”
“What? Dare to say what needs to be said?” He glanced up, a smile in place. “Because you need someone who’ll do it.” He opened the bag, looking into it. “You want to get angry with me? Do so. But just so we’re clear, I’m no bossier than you.”
“Ya, but when I’m doing it, I’m not annoying.”
He froze for a moment, looking perplexed that she’d say such a thing. Apparently he hadn’t realized she was teasing. A moment later amusement danced through his eyes.
“Uh-huh.” He pulled out several small plastic containers. “Bob stopped by a store, and I bought some slices of cake. Do you prefer carrot cake, red velvet, chocolate, double fudge, or yellow cake with chocolate frosting?”
The slices were huge—large enough to serve three or four people. Her stomach rumbled. “Carrot cake, please.”
“I would’ve guessed something with chocolate.” He held it and a fork out to her. “So how are you?”
“Exhausted and irritable.” She took the items. “You?”
He chuckled, seeming different from before. That thought caught her off guard. Different? How? It’d take some pondering to know those answers, and she wasn’t going to do that. Other than their getting along and keeping their relationship from veering off course, it didn’t matter what differences she saw in him.
Samuel opened a container for one of the other cake slices. “I’m feeling the same. After the temperature warms up and we get some rest, I’m betting everyone will be arguing or tempted to complain over anything and everything—at least for a few days.” He dug his fork into the double fudge cake.
She stared at the dark sky. The stars were so bright it looked as if she could touch them if she only reached up into the sky. “How long would it take to get to the closest star?”
Samuel propped his foot on the footrest. “The sun is the closest, about ninety-three million miles away, if I remember correctly. I once read that if you traveled a hundred miles per hour, it’d take more than a hundred years to reach it. Of course, that same article said that even with current spaceship and spacesuit technology, you’d be ashes while still something like three million miles away from it.”
She studied the sky’s brilliance. Its beauty was unmatched at night. During the day the orchard was a close rival, especially at picking time, but nighttime views outdid the daytime sky regardless of the season. “Seems so odd they fade to nothing during the day.”
“They don’t fade at all. They’re there, just as bright.” He stared at the expanse. “It doesn’t seem like it though, does it?”
She took a bite of cake, and her mouth watered as she enjoyed the cream cheese frosting. “Do you know the constellations?”
“A few. But as the earth rotates, the constellations show up in different parts of the sky. And then there are times we can’t see some of the stars in those constellations. So even if you’re looking at one you know, it might not appear as such.”
“Even the heavens look different than they actually are.” A chill of excitement ran through her. “If you only saw me here like this, you’d think I was on a picnic or something—not taking a moment to rest because I’m worn-out and hungry.”
“Interesting thinking.” He grabbed the quilt off the seat and tossed it over her lap. “Where are you going with it?”
She took another bite of cake. “I’m not sure.”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
But she found comfort in the thought. Maybe because she was trying to connect the dots the way people do with the constellations, by using the snippets she’d seen with Camilla and her son and by trying to free herself of visions of Emma. She knew all the dots weren’t visible, and maybe they never would be—not to her. “What am I going to do with what I saw today about Camilla and her son?”
“There are only a couple of choices, aren’t there? Hold on to it or share it with Camilla. But why would you receive it if you were to hold on to it?”
He was right, and she felt silly for asking. As she thought about their time at the accident scene, she recalled fighting with Samuel while trying to get to Camilla. “I was rough on you this afternoon.”
“I’m fine. You have a lot of strength hidden behind those girly clothes. Did I hurt you?”
“Nee.” She dipped the fork in some i
cing and licked it off.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a silhouette shift. She refused to look. Maybe it was shadows from the flames in the barrels, but she imagined it was Emma. “I have a weird question for you.”
“Does that mean I need to have a weird answer?”
She dipped up another forkful of cake. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I see Emma?”
Samuel shrugged. “Not sure. We hear about murders and such, but I can’t imagine having to survive it happening to a family member. Especially for someone like you.”
Just what did that mean? “Like me?”
He glanced her way. “You feel so deeply, Rhoda.”
“Oh.” It was true, and maybe much of the reason she’d spent most of her life hiding in her fruit patch, tending her acre of vines. Those thorns and prickles only went skin deep, and it was so peaceful inside that picket fence.
He pulled out a carton of milk from the bag and passed it to her. “When my Daadi Sam died, I’d walk through the orchard at night talking to him … or rather to myself and imagining it was him. I think needing to do that in order to cope probably changed my perspective about people and mourning. Grief is every bit as powerful as love. And that’s saying something, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “You were a teen when your grandfather died?”
“Sixteen, and it was really difficult. Maybe it shouldn’t have been. But I never once imagined he might die at sixty-two. He was healthy and fit. My greatest consolation is he wanted me to run the orchard, and I needed something to keep me occupied. But that first year, whenever the day was quiet, in my mind’s eye I’d see his hand push up from the ground and grab mine.”
“Only the first year?”
“Ya, I stepped in a yellow jacket’s nest and needed to be taken to the doctor, and I told him what I kept imagining … you know, in case maybe I was nuts.”
She chuckled. “I know that feeling all too well.”
“He said, ‘Maybe he’s not reaching up to grab you. Maybe you are the one afraid to let go of him.’ ” Samuel didn’t say anything for a really long time. “That doctor was right. I knew it the moment he said it. So I aimed to find peace with having to let go of Daadi Sam. It took a while, but when the image came to me, I just mumbled to myself, ‘It’s okay to let him go. He’s fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.’ ”
Her soul seemed to vibrate, and when she closed her eyes, she felt as free as the winds soaring through the orchard. She could find peace with Emma being gone, and somehow she’d uncover how to let her go.
Samuel drew a heavy breath. “I never told anybody that before.”
She’d needed to hear it, and she sensed that he’d needed to tell it. “Denki.” The word came out as a whisper.
She could tell that he felt about his grandfather the way she did about her sister. “When we talked at Camilla’s week before last, I told you I hoped you had answers about Emma, but you didn’t mention anything about your Daadi Sam.”
His brows furrowed. “I didn’t think about it then, and I didn’t bring it up tonight to be helpful. We were just talking, and the conversation meandered that way. Was it helpful?”
“Definitely.” It seemed odd that he’d managed to stumble onto help for her time and again simply by thinking and sharing his thoughts. “It never dawned on me that I might be the one trying to hang on to Emma. I see myself as more of a runner.”
“A runner?”
“Ya, I started running after I had my first premonition when I was four or five. I told Steven a few months back that it was like he and Daed and everyone else watched, pleading with me to go faster. I think that panicked feeling of running is part of the reason I understand Jacob. We both run, just from different things. And I know we both want to stop.”
“No reason you can’t. Seems like this new settlement is the perfect place for you and Jacob. Fresh start. Your brother is the spiritual head. In the past he may have spurred you to outrun who God made you to be, but I know he can understand you better now.”
“I doubt Steven’s ever had to run from parts of who he is.”
“You might be surprised. I imagine most people run from something like that at one point or another.”
She couldn’t imagine Samuel running from anything. “Even you?”
He dug into his cake without answering.
She poked his arm with her elbow. “After all I’ve just told you about me, you’re not going to answer?”
His eyes met hers. “You should know the answer to that without asking.”
As crisp and clear as the night air, she knew. He ran from the desire to pursue her. He ran from all he felt for her.
She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have wanted time alone to talk with him. Shouldn’t be gazing at the stars. Enjoying desserts. Discussing matters of the heart and longing to know what was on his mind.
TWENTY-FOUR
Jacob grabbed his overnight bag as the train pulled into the depot at Old Orchard Beach. Since he’d been in a Virginia Beach motel, he had gone to the beach on Friday night and walked it for hours.
The sand and surf used to be the love of his life, the one thing that stirred him when nothing else did. He hadn’t been able to take joy in it since the construction company debacle. Now that some measure of respect had been restored to him, he’d enjoyed feeling the sand under his feet and watching the rolling waves while recalling his many times of scuba diving and deep-sea fishing.
As he’d ambled along the water’s edge, more hope had filled him. The world of construction and the magic of the ocean seemed to have opened their arms to him again. Was it possible he wasn’t done with both of them as he’d thought? The idea was somewhat appealing, and maybe in a few years, when the orchard wasn’t as labor intensive, he could enjoy seasons of both construction and the ocean.
But right now he was more than ready to get home to Rhoda. He longed to start a life with her. Just the thought of it made him smile, but he suppressed the desire. Since he was in his Amish clothes, he figured he stuck out enough without grinning like a possum. As soon as he got home, he’d tell Steven he was ready to begin the instruction period so he could join the faith. Rhoda’s words of love echoed inside him, giving him confidence in their future. They could marry this fall, just as soon as the harvest and canning season were over. Would she prefer to marry before or after Thanksgiving?
The clackity-clack of the train slowed until the huge machine came to a smooth stop. Three other people were also waiting to get off. Maybe taking a train to the shore on a Sunday morning wasn’t a prime time for beachgoers. He waited his turn and then stepped onto a small platform enclosed with a rail. To his right was a short set of steps that led to the long platform running alongside the tracks.
Iva was a ways down the platform, a camera masking her face. She wore Englisch clothes—a casual dress and a fitted jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and he noticed her light brown hair had a touch of blond in it.
He eased up behind her. “Excuse me, but Amish don’t approve of such things.”
She turned, camera in place as the shutter seemed to click dozens of times per second.
Jacob backed up, but she moved in closer, snapping images.
He held up his hand, blocking the lens. “I surrender. Stop already.”
She lowered the camera and gestured across the road. “Welcome to Old Orchard Beach, Maine.”
“Been here long?”
“Not even an hour yet.” She pulled her jacket tighter. “Hard to believe it was freezing until lunchtime yesterday. It’s still chillier than I expected.”
“There’s always a breeze coming off the ocean. How are Sandra and Casey?”
“Good. Happy, I think. We found a really cute place. It’s tiny, but it’s light and airy, with a playground nearby.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.” But he was ready to spend every bit of the day’s free time with Rhoda. He gestured away from the tracks. “Any c
hance you’re ready to mosey homeward?”
“Really?” She searched his eyes, clearly trying to decide if he was teasing.
They went up a set of concrete stairs. “I’ve been traveling since this time yesterday, and I’m anxious to see Rhoda. I know the last few days have been tough on the farm.”
“Well, sure, but the frost is over. I wanted to get some pictures of the ocean, lots of them, and of the amusement park.” She held up the camera. “Since arriving, I’ve been waiting right here, making sure I was in sight when you got off the train.”
He said nothing, and disappointment flickered across her face. “Okay.” She pulled the keys out of her jacket pocket. “You ready, then?”
Guilt nibbled at him. He’d asked a huge favor of her and had yet to ask what he could do in return. Surely after she’d spent three and a half days away from the farm to help him, he could take a little time to let her enjoy an afternoon at the beach. He glanced around. “Looks like an interesting place. Let’s walk around a bit.”
“You sure?” She clutched Landon’s truck keys in her palm.
“Yeah. Who knows, maybe I can tell Rhoda about it, and she’ll want to come see for herself.” It was apparent that both of them were in the Englisch mode—their speech patterns fitting in with those they’d been spending time around. Had she left the Amish at one point as he had? She might have, since she had a driver’s license and a camera, but not necessarily.
“It takes only two hours to get here by car.” She followed an elderly man with her camera, taking shots of him as he pushed a stroller. “I’ve learned just enough about this little vacation spot to show you the best parts. There’s a pier that is sort of an outdoor shopping mall, loaded with restaurants and souvenir shops. The food smells delicious. Then there’s a carnival area almost on the beach. It’s called Palace Playland, and among other things it has a Ferris wheel and carousel. Ever ridden either?”
“Nope. They never looked interesting. How about you?”
“Never been on one, and they look extremely interesting. The carousel has a rooster.” She dipped her head before looking up at him. “Please. I’ve been very good with the money Rhoda gave me.”
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