Rhoda moved back to the love seat. “In my mind I saw you in front of a medical building, arguing with Zachary and Jojo. I don’t understand what I saw.”
All color drained from Camilla’s face. “I understand it. I was there.”
“Then you believe me about having a grandchild?”
Camilla swiped at a tear. “It was an abortion clinic.”
Hurt for Camilla outweighed everything else, but Rhoda felt foolish not to have put it all together. No wonder Camilla was so certain she didn’t have a grandchild.
Camilla’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I stayed in my car the whole time they were inside that building, and they were in there for more than two hours. Jojo left the clinic in control, but when she saw me in my car, she burst into tears. My son came to me, and he said I’d made everything harder for Jojo. He told me to leave them alone, and even though I cried every day, I did as he asked. I owed him that much.
“About six months later he contacted me. I walked on eggshells, hoping for a chance to reconnect with him. We’d meet somewhere neutral for coffee or lunch, and we kept the conversations as light and breezy as possible, but we couldn’t talk about our reality or it’d shatter us. I asked about Jojo, and he’d said that topic was off-limits. I supposed they weren’t together anymore. At one point he asked for us to see a family counselor. We did twice, and I thought healing was taking place, but before the third visit came around, he was killed in a car wreck—by a trucker who fell asleep at the wheel.” The pain reflected in her eyes was unbearable.
Bob stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder as he held the glass for her. “Is it possible Jojo changed her mind?”
She sipped from the straw. “No. She left that clinic completely broken.”
Bob set the drink on a side table. “Rhoda?”
She shrugged. “I wish I could say for sure. Sometimes I see a piece of something and I assume the wrong thing, but isn’t it worth investigating?”
“They weren’t married, and I don’t even know the girl’s last name.” Camilla ran her unbandaged hand through her hair, as if trying to pull a memory from her brain. “Whenever Zachary would say her name, I’d think Jojo Jade.”
Rhoda paced the floor, needing to release some of her pent-up nerves. “Dumont. Look for Joella Dumont.”
“I told you they were underage, and I didn’t sign a paper.”
“Would his dad?”
Camilla’s eyes bugged out. “What? Zachary disowned him … but if that boy wanted to marry her bad enough, and if he caught his dad in the right mood, he could’ve talked him into anything.”
Rhoda’s chest ached. “The day I came through the woods following your music, I heard a little girl’s voice. She called you Grandmamma.”
Camilla gasped. “When Zachary was little, he always said he wanted a grandmamma. My parents were dead, so we agreed that when he had children, they could call me that.”
Rhoda had to sit.
Camilla lay back, breathing deep and weeping. “I might have a grandchild. But if this is true, how can I find her?”
Bob scratched his chin. “Zachary told you he was living in Maine, and you said his car tags indicated the same thing. So maybe that’s where the child was born. We’ll start looking at records, but it’ll take a while since we’re not sure when the child would’ve been born.”
Chills and excitement skidded through Rhoda in waves. “After he told you to leave them alone, when did he contact you again?”
“It was four years ago, but I don’t really remember the month.” Camilla thought. “Wait, it was right after Thanksgiving. I remember because when the phone rang, I was carving the leftover turkey to make a potpie.”
Rhoda rubbed her arms, trying to dispel the chill bumps. “I think he either had held his daughter or it was close to her birth. His sense of hope and joy were strong, and he needed to connect with his mom. And when the time was right, after more counseling, he would’ve told you about your granddaughter.”
Bob held his wife’s hand. “There’s a records office in Augusta. We can go there and look through the birth records. We’ll verify her birth date and then put ads in the paper looking for Jojo. We’ll hire investigators if need be.”
“What if Jojo doesn’t want me in her life?”
Rhoda’s head pounded from the energy pumping through her. “One issue at a time, okay?”
Camilla stared, wide eyed. “Of course. Sorry.”
Rhoda felt like clothes on a line during a storm.
Samuel leaned in. “I’ve never been more proud of you.” His soothing voice made her relax a bit. She looked him in the eyes, and he nodded. “And that’s really saying something.”
His words made her eyes sting with tears, and she took a deep breath, relaxing. She’d done it. She’d finally managed to share what she needed to.
Someone knocked at the front door, but Camilla and Bob were whispering and teary eyed.
Samuel stood. “I’ll get it.”
A few moments later Rhoda heard the front door open and then … Was that arguing? She slipped out of the living room and went to the foyer.
Jacob. Her spontaneous smile waned as she heard his cutting words.
“So why is it, brother, that whenever I return, you’re with Rhoda, even when she’s not at the farm?”
Rhoda’s chest constricted. That awful sense of powerlessness returned. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she defended Samuel being here, she’d make Jacob feel as if he’d been stabbed in the back. If she allowed Jacob to stew in his anger against Samuel, she was guilty of coming between the brothers.
She decided to respond as if she hadn’t heard anything. “Jacob.” She went to him and embraced him. The warmth of the hug wasn’t what she’d hoped for, but she didn’t let go. Her disappointment in his harshness with Samuel faded, and she rested her head on his chest. “You’re home.”
“I am.” He kissed the top of her head. “Is Camilla okay?”
“Minor injuries.” Rhoda backed away and cupped his face with her hands. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Jacob, right?” Bob moved forward, his hand extended.
“Yeah.”
“Come on in. My wife and I are trying to talk Rhoda into something. I think we have Samuel convinced. How do you feel about Rhoda’s canning kitchen being built on your property?”
Jacob rested his hands on Rhoda’s shoulders as they went into the living room. “I think there’s no money to do that right now.”
Jacob took a place on the love seat beside her, watching as Samuel brought in a chair from the kitchen. There was a couch on the far side of the room, but Bob had set up this area to surround Camilla so they could easily chat.
Bob explained about the accident, and Rhoda cringed when he told about Samuel and her sharing a horse so they could make eye contact with Camilla and keep her calm.
Rhoda interlaced her fingers with Jacob’s as Bob then explained their desire to invest in the business by making it possible for them to build the canning kitchen.
Bob passed him the plat. “Samuel seems to think it’s a fine idea.”
Jacob released her hand and studied the plat. “I’m sure my brother likes the plan. It’d keep everyone so close.” He looked at Samuel. “Right?”
Samuel’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
“Well,”—Camilla laid her head back, closing her eyes—“much has happened in the last twenty-four hours. We can’t sort it all out tonight. You need to think on our offer, and Bob and I will think about my granddaughter.” Camilla smiled, eyes still closed. “Thanks to Rhoda.”
Jacob frowned and held out the plat to Bob. “Why’s she thanking Rhoda for a grandchild?”
Bob took the plat. “You don’t know?”
Rhoda’s head began to pound. “We haven’t talked about it.”
Despite noticeably bristling, Jacob managed a smile. “I’ve been gone too much, but I’m putting that behind us as fast as I can.”<
br />
Was his absence all that kept them from talking about serious matters?
Jacob held her hand. “It sounds as if Rhoda and I need to talk before I’ll know what to think.” He turned to her. “How did the battle with the frost go?”
Rhoda looped her arm through his. “Really great, we think.”
He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You look exhausted.”
“Between that and Camilla’s mishap, and … other things I’ll tell you later.” Like Phoebe losing the baby and Rhoda’s insight concerning Jojo.
“Then we should talk.” Jacob smiled.
“I look forward to that.” She squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow when you pick me up to take me to the farm?”
Disappointment flashed through his eyes, but he nodded and stood.
“I’d love to tonight.” Rhoda rose. “But I’m exhausted. Is your rig here?”
“Iva dropped me off.”
Bob pulled some keys from his pocket. “I drove Samuel here. Come on. I’ll give you men a lift back to the farm, and the womenfolk can crawl into bed early.”
Rhoda walked with Jacob to the porch while Bob and Samuel went on to the car.
Jacob gazed into her eyes. “It’ll be different for us from here on. I may have a few more responsibilities to fulfill, but because of the immunity, I’m free, Rhoda. You’re the only one who could’ve gotten me to do carpentry work again. You’re the only reason I did what had to be done so I could get cleared. And you’re the only one for me.” He leaned in, kissing her on the lips. “I’ll be here an hour earlier than usual so we can talk, and we won’t stop making time to talk for the rest of our lives.”
Every word was filled with a promise, and he meant them. She knew he did. “I look forward to a fresh start in the morning.” And she did, but she was apprehensive too. His words would be soft-spoken and kind, even interlaced with humor and understanding, but he’d ask hard questions, ones she wouldn’t have an answer for, like how did she and Samuel seem to be inseparable when he was away?
Circumstances just seemed to work out that way, but Jacob had a right to feel frustrated.
And yet, in some ways he didn’t.
All of that aside, she was hopeful. He saw what they needed, and he was committed to her in ways that had been impossible before now.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The sun had yet to rise as Jacob waited in the buggy outside the Cranfords’ house. It was too early to tap on their door, and Rhoda was usually waiting for him on the porch when he arrived. He didn’t see any lights on.
Now what?
He supposed he’d wait. She’d certainly done plenty of that for him.
It had been impossible to sleep last night. Without realizing it, Iva had made crystal clear that there was a romantic relationship of some kind between Samuel and Rhoda. Well, crystal clear might be the wrong words. His thoughts about Rhoda were almost as muddied as ever, but he knew his brother was in love.
Was it Samuel’s fault? Was it Jacob’s? Maybe the responsibility belonged to both of them to some degree. But accountability wasn’t the most important part. The only thing that really mattered was where Jacob and Rhoda landed in the end.
She didn’t need to live on the farm and be near Samuel. Jacob was confident of that. The question was how to convince Rhoda.
If he could, he’d whisk her away from Maine. Maybe Iva’s playful idea wasn’t altogether silly. Rhoda loved tending fruit and canning. Jacob had a newfound urge to try his hand at carpentry again. He thought he was finally free to pursue that—not just physically but also emotionally. The Pennsylvania orchard had a summer kitchen that she loved. It had been damaged by the tornado, but it could be repaired. Of course they had moved all the equipment to Maine, and it was now in storage in the barn. But that could be replaced. Anything could be replaced—except Rhoda.
As the sun rose, spreading bright pink and orange hues across the sky, he continued to stare at the house. Where was she?
His mind continued to churn with frustrations and half-baked solutions. Finally the front door opened, and Rhoda stepped outside.
He hopped out of the carriage and hurried to open her door.
“Sorry.” She slid her arms into her sweater while walking toward him. “I overslept.”
“Guder Marye.” He bowed.
She laughed softly before placing her warm cheek against his cold face. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” He wasn’t going to lose this woman. If he had to abandon the family business and disown his brother in order to keep her, he’d do it. “Anyone who’s battled mother nature and won, or at least mostly won, deserves to sleep in.”
She kissed him on the cheek and then wiped the same spot, her eyes admiring him. “This is our new beginning.”
“Absolutely.”
She climbed into the buggy. Clearly, she was pleased to see him last night and today. That helped. A lot. It was a far cry from the last time he’d returned, when he found out Samuel had kissed her only moments earlier, and it was a world better than what he’d feared most of yesterday.
He went back around the vehicle and grabbed the reins. As he pulled onto the main road, one question hounded him: How would she feel about the idea of moving to Pennsylvania? She could still do what she loved to do—tend to fruit crops and can. And Jacob would get what he wanted—distance between Samuel and her.
Of course, he couldn’t yet afford to buy land or a house there. The Pennsylvania orchard wouldn’t produce enough work or income to support him, Rhoda, and Eli full-time, not for years yet. But he and Rhoda could live on the King farm. She and Eli could work the orchard, and he could …
A desire that had been niggling its way free for days, maybe months, finally overtook him. Passion and excitement ignited.
Construction work!
He could work for his uncle, doing the vocation he’d once loved. From his first weeks of knowing Rhoda, she’d helped him learn to love it again. He could hire a driver to take him to and from Lancaster every day.
Now that wasn’t a bad idea at all.
“I really am sorry for being so late.” She stretched, yawning. “But, oh, how good that bed felt this morning.”
“Forgiven. You’ve certainly had to wait on me plenty. But that time is over. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
Despite hugging him moments ago and her encouraging words, her voice sounded hollow, similar to when he used to call her while he was away. He’d spend the day looking forward to talking to her, but once on the phone, he felt less connected, not more.
He came to a yield sign and then headed away from the farm. “It was dark when I got to the farm last night and when I left this morning. How do the buds look?”
“Healthy.” She tightened her sweater. “Didn’t you ask that last night?”
“I did.” But right now he was aiming for something peaceful to talk about, and since the only thing coming to his mind were daydreams of their imminent return to Pennsylvania, he couldn’t think of much to say. “How’s your family back home?”
She blinked. “Fine.” She sounded a bit perplexed. “You’ve never asked about them before.”
Jacob stifled a sigh and shrugged. Why was she right next to him and yet seemed so far away? The answer, obviously, was Samuel.
Jacob wasn’t sure what irked him most—the fact that he had been the one to cajole her into moving to Maine or that she was so tied to the orchard he couldn’t imagine her leaving it for months.
When Samuel had wavered on whether Rhoda and he could work together, Jacob had helped smooth the way, thinking it’d give him good reasons to be near her and it’d give him time to get to know her. Now he wished he’d let Samuel and Rhoda go their separate ways during any one of the arguments that’d threatened to end their partnership.
But no … he just had to be the peacekeeper.
“How did the deposition go?”
“Good, I suppose. It’s hard to
dissect months of mistakes while lawyers are asking so many questions.”
“Ya. I can imagine.”
He reached for her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me about Camilla having a grandchild?”
She squeezed his fingers reassuringly. “It wasn’t intentional. You and I have dealt with a lot this past year. And when we’re together, we don’t talk about those kinds of things.”
“So what do we talk about?”
She smiled, her sincerity evident. “You tell me jokes and make me laugh. You harass me, trying to put melted marshmallow in my hair or pulling on my coattails while I’m working. We’ve mostly talked about Sandra and the troubles you walked into.”
“That’s it?” Wasn’t there more between them than childish playfulness and Jacob’s burdens?
“We’re us. Who else do we need to be? You see me better than I see myself, and you helped me find laughter again.” She held his hand with both of hers. “I accepted your many secrets, and we’ve traveled that bumpy road together. You made me look at the facts concerning Emma’s death—that even though I knew what was going to happen, I couldn’t have gotten there in time.”
He’d have preferred for her to recall more touching things and end her explanation with a proclamation of love. “When did you first get a hunch about Camilla having a grandchild?”
“My first night on the farm.”
“Ah.” He tried to sound nonchalant. “When did Samuel know?”
Her face flushed. “I … I’m not sure.”
“Not sure? What does that mean?” He sounded like a jealous boyfriend again. He hated that. If his humor drew her to him, would his suspicions push her away?
“I wanted to talk to him that night, but he said I had you for that. Then I mentioned it again at some point because it was hounding me, and you were staying with Sandra.” She played with the edges of her sweater. “Jacob, he’s a good brother. He worked hard and avoided me like I was the plague most of the time you were gone. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but I grew angry that you weren’t here and Samuel wasn’t available. He’d disappear to the farthest parts of the orchard. When the pressure got so bad because of my legal issues, Samuel feared I was going to have a nervous breakdown. Then he stopped hiding from me because I needed some support. Would you want any less?”
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