“Harvest kitchen?” Samuel looked around, bewildered at all she was covering.
“It’s not a summer kitchen, and I don’t like the name canning kitchen either. You know what else, Samuel? You should name this place Orchard Bend Farms. That way, if you have married daughters or granddaughters who wish to carry on the canning business, they won’t have to refer to it as Kings’ Orchard if they don’t carry the King name.”
“Grandchildren,” Samuel mumbled. “Is she seeing me so old that I’m retired before we’ve even poured the footers for the harvest kitchen?”
Jacob moved next to her. “Ya, but apparently only you are going gray or bald. I wasn’t mentioned in that little scenario.”
She slid her hand into Jacob’s. “We won’t be here after this first harvest.” She closed her eyes, fighting tears. “He wants to be a carpenter in his uncle’s business until he can afford to start his own.”
She wasn’t sure what reaction she’d expected from Jacob, but not a muscle twitched. There was not even a hint of his signature smile. Had she just confessed to him how she felt about Samuel?
Samuel’s demeanor showed his grief, but her intuition told her that his sorrow was more for her loss of this dream than anything else. She knew guilt pounded him for what he’d done to her future by that kiss, but it wasn’t him. It was both of them. Maybe all three of them.
She smiled at Samuel. “It’s a good plan. The only one that will really work.”
He nodded. “It is.”
She tugged on Jacob’s hand. “All three of us need to be together when we tell the others.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Aromas mingled from the dishes on the kitchen table. Leah had found them enticing only moments ago, but now they turned her stomach. She couldn’t budge as Jacob finished explaining Rhoda and his new plan.
Orchard Bend Farms. She knew they would be referred to as the Orchard Bend Amish. Leah swallowed hard. They were losing half of who they were while gaining only a name.
Jacob’s smile was reassuring, but his hands trembled a bit when he took a drink of water. “I know this sounds as if it changes everything, but actually it’ll only be a new division of labor, and it’ll help Iva’s situation because Steven will be able to use our leaving as an argument that this business needs her. Landon will manage supplies and shipping on a daily basis—spices, sugar, jars, shipping boxes, labels, and such. Leah will manage the product itself, making each batch of apple butter, jelly, jam, applesauce, pie filling, salsa, cider, and everything else according to the recipes. And Iva will handle the canning and cooling and packing. So the whole operation should run smoothly.”
Phoebe studied Rhoda. “This is what you want?”
Rhoda clasped both of Jacob’s hands. “It is. A wife’s place is with her husband, no?”
Phoebe turned to Steven, looking bewildered, and then faced Rhoda again. “I never dreamed you’d turn over to anyone your grandmother’s recipes and your business of selling canned goods. You’ve been doing this since before I knew you.”
Jacob put his arm around Rhoda’s shoulders. “And she’ll keep doing it to some degree.”
The room fell silent, and finally Steven shifted in his chair. “Let’s pray.”
When the silent prayer was over, Leah still couldn’t move, even as bowls of food were passed in front of her.
“Here you go.” Jacob plopped a serving of Amish six layer on her plate. “Dinner you didn’t have to cook. Isn’t that always your favorite?”
Leah stared at the steam rising from the food. Rhoda was leaving? Not only was the news shocking, but it made Leah’s heart ache to think of losing Rhoda. Jacob too, but Leah had adjusted to his going away a long, long time ago. How old had she been when he moved to Lancaster to apprentice with their uncle? Eight or nine? He came home some, certainly on holidays and birthdays, until he left to live among the Englisch when she was around thirteen.
Truth was, she’d spent more time with Rhoda since waking up half-drunk in her fruit garden than she ever had with Jacob. Rhoda was the first person to really believe in her. Well, Jacob did, but he was never around to battle for her the way Rhoda had. She’d argued with Samuel until he saw that he didn’t value his sisters as he did his brothers. Samuel then stood against their Daed for Leah’s sake.
Leah’s stomach hurt as concerns for what else this meant kept coming at her. What would this do to her chance to break free? Jacob was excited to have his freedom back, but in the process it appeared he’d chained Leah to the business, to being Amish. She couldn’t just walk away, not if she had to help fill Rhoda’s shoes. Jacob knew Leah wasn’t sure if she was staying.
And if Landon wasn’t just an assistant to Rhoda but was an integral part of running the business, he couldn’t help Leah leave the Amish. Despite the trouble it would cause for a spell, he still might have been able to keep his position as Rhoda’s assistant, as a simple farmhand, but the Amish ways wouldn’t let him stay as a managing partner if he did anything subversive against the Amish. With Rhoda gone, what would it do to the business if Landon had to leave? Or if Leah left?
Jacob had to know that. He was ruining everything. Then another truth dawned on her, and concern for Rhoda weighed heavy.
“This is wrong, Jacob.” Her voice wavered. “You’re taking her from all of us because your sense of wanderlust has hit again. This won’t be the last time. Did you tell her that?”
Jacob set his fork and knife on his plate. “Leah.”
“No.” She tossed her napkin over the pile of food on her plate. “You won’t stay in Lancaster. That’s Uncle Mervin’s territory. You’ll only stay until you’re reputation is established and you have some money.”
Rhoda seemed surprised by what Leah had said, but it faded quickly, and Rhoda leaned in. “Leah, I’m marrying your brother, and we’re leaving to make a different life for ourselves. Maybe it’s shocking news, but if you dig a little deeper, you’ll discover it’s good news, ya?”
Leah looked to Landon. Was she building a case against Jacob because her emotions were so raw, like the nonsense she’d pulled with Landon when he’d ignored her while watching a ball game?
Is this how freedom worked? For one man to have it, he had to take it from someone else? That’s how it seemed. Jacob had taken every choice from her and from Landon. Maybe she was overreacting to Jacob and Rhoda’s news. How things felt and how they really were could be quite different. Leah steadied her breathing until she had more control over her panic, and then she walked around the table to Rhoda. “Congratulations.”
Rhoda stood and held her tight. “Denki.”
Jacob waited by her side. “I know this is hard, but it’s a good thing, Leah. For all of us.”
Leah hoped so. Oh, how she hoped so. When she released him, she saw a unity in the two, something built on compromise and yet beautifully romantic. Was it real, or was Leah letting years of romance novels fill her head? “If it’s okay, I’ll eat a little later.”
As soon as the others nodded, Leah left. She hurried out the front door, into the barn, and up the ladder to the haymow. Its familiarity brought comfort, reminding her of the one she’d hid in for hours at a time, reading, while she was growing up. But she didn’t have shelves of books up here, in part because she had a bedroom of her own, but mostly because life was so very different here. She didn’t need to hide during her off time. She had freedom and respect. Samuel had seen to that.
How must he feel about this news? She imagined he had a set of chains that Jacob had clasped on him too.
“Leah?” Landon stood on the ladder, waiting. “Can I come up?”
She sat on a hay bale and stared out the open door. “You know what this means, right?”
He sat down next to her. “I know.” He propped his arms on his thighs. “The business stood a real chance of stabilizing over the next year. Now it could be five, at least. Nobody knows the canning side like Rhoda.”
“After this I’ll need to be here for Samuel, trying to
help him like Rhoda has. I won’t be a smidgen as good, but I can’t abandon him.”
Landon interlaced his fingers and sighed. “You’re a good sister.”
His words sent a chill through her. “You’ll be here too, right?”
He angled his head, staring at her, a hint of confusion flickering through his eyes. “Rhoda is trusting me to do that, so yes.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Unless you plan on running me off.”
His words held out comfort to her, but she couldn’t quite grab hold of it. “If you’re anchored in this job as a partner, holding a position with my brother, we can’t be the freewheeling underlings who could break away without causing the business to fold. Samuel can’t do it all.”
Landon’s wry smile radiated patience. “So today, without any doubts, you’re dreaming of breaking free?”
“Don’t make fun of me. I know I constantly waver about what I’m going to do, but I want the right to choose, the right to follow as God leads.”
“Then it seems He’s leading you to wait, whether Rhoda stays or leaves.”
“What makes you say that?”
“There’s a saying that I think is true: if in doubt, don’t. And, Leah King, you constantly doubt what you’re going to do. You’ve just been given good reasons to stay put. Samuel needs that, and the truth is, we need it.”
“We?” She screeched the word at him, but when she did, she knew what he meant. She needed a few years before deciding anything. That terrified her too. Would he wait? Would they still care about each other years from now?
He held out his hand to her.
The gesture caught her off guard. “You got another learner’s manual up your sleeve?”
With his other hand, he shook the short sleeve of his T-shirt. “Nope.”
He wanted her to take his hand, and she wasn’t quite certain how to receive this gesture of affection. “I thought you didn’t like holding hands.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes when dating a young woman and everything seems confusing and frustrating, the only thing a man can do is hold her hand and wait.”
She slid her hand into his. “When Jacob calls my folks with the plan to build the harvest kitchen, they’ll come. I can’t let them find out that we’re dating or that I’m attending a church in town.”
He tucked her arm inside his, holding her hand. “Then don’t.”
Leah quieted her nerves and looked out at the acres of vibrant trees, and all she could think of was that Landon Olson was holding her hand.
THIRTY-FIVE
Iva walked down the paved road toward the area where she should soon find the building site of the harvest kitchen. The late June weather was absolutely delicious. Midseventies. A light breeze.
She paused, pulled the viewfinder to her eye, and snapped a few pictures of the first mourning dove she’d seen since arriving in Maine. It stayed on the ground, alert and silent as she eased closer and then knelt. She continued to get shots even as it flew away. She lowered the camera until its weight was fully on the strap around her neck. Once she’d returned to the road, she patted her apron pocket, verifying Sandra’s letter was still safe.
After numerous meanderings from the road to take pictures, she finally rounded a slight bend, and the building site was before her. She blinked several times.
Was that it?
What lay before her was considered good progress?
It’d been three weeks! No wonder Jacob had told her she hadn’t missed much since the groundbreaking. She was busier than a new Mamm with triplets now that Jacob spent his days building instead of working in the orchard.
Oh, he was going to hear about this. She smiled, imagining his reaction to being teased.
The good news was that Steven had spent tireless hours on the phone with her Daed. She’d never seen a more kindhearted, patient man than Steven, and he’d finally won her Daed’s approval. Because the thriving business needed her, Iva could stay here—as long as she sent half her salary home to help with the family’s needs. Iva didn’t care about the money. Her Daed could have all of it, but Steven said she needed to keep her portion.
Steven Byler, champion of women, especially his own wife. His daughter, Arie, was a very blessed little girl. How different would Iva’s life be if her Daed valued her that same way?
Jacob pushed a shovel blade into a pile of gravel in a wheelbarrow and tossed it onto what appeared to be nothing but ground. She zoomed in on him until she could see the sweat glistening on his forearms and soaking through his pale blue shirt. She might have to delete these, but she couldn’t resist taking them.
With the scope of the camera, she could see a concrete border around a cleared square of dirt with plastic over it. A pile of half-broken boards lay to one side, and a large heap of gravel was beside it.
So this was the early stage of construction? With the naked eye it wasn’t much to look at, but through her camera lens—fascinating. She made her way up the gravel lane, taking dozens of shots. Since she hadn’t uploaded any images to Landon’s computer in a while, she could only hope her memory card didn’t get full. It would hold about seven hundred images, but when one didn’t own a computer or have easy access to a photo center, that wasn’t a lot of space.
She zoomed in on a stack of lumber. This building site would be a great place for taking photos next week. That’s when Rhoda’s and Jacob’s families would arrive, along with his uncle’s construction crew. She could already feel the thrill of taking pictures of their work—in the early morning light, as a summertime thunderstorm approached, as the moon rose over the apple trees. She’d have to be discreet and avoid getting their faces, but she’d learned long ago how to capture the heart of an event without crossing a line.
Oh, this is what life was meant to be—fresh, exuberating visions to be captured by a camera.
Gravel crunched under her feet as she walked down the long driveway, snapping more pictures. Jacob didn’t look up. Could he not hear her over his shoveling?
Two pipes stood erect inside the border. She focused on them—nasty looking, really. One was probably four inches in diameter, caked in dirt and mud, with some type of cap on top. How did something so hideous become a part of a place that would be filled with delicious aromas and spices?
The plan for her to work in this kitchen with Leah and Landon was daunting at best. But it also meant freedom, and even though months of long, hot days in a kitchen wasn’t her dream job, it was exciting to be a part of a new business.
She lifted the camera, taking more shots. Her feet smacked into something hard, and she fell forward. “My camera!”
A blur surrounded her, but a pair of strong hands eased her fall right before her face struck the ground. Her knees screamed in pain, as did an elbow.
“Iva?” Jacob righted her to a sitting position. “Bischt du allrecht?”
Her hands shook as she inspected her camera. “I’m fine.” When she couldn’t find a scratch on the camera, she looked up. “Denki.” She’d landed inside his concrete border onto what eventually would be the floor.
“You’re bleeding.” He pointed at her elbow.
“I’ll heal. You saved the important part.”
“Your camera?” He held out his hand.
She grabbed his hand, her knees yelling at her as she rose to her feet. Hopefully the faux sincerity she was about to inflect would bring a smile to him. “Oh, no. I meant the dirt-and-gravel floor.”
He laughed. “What?”
Pleased with herself, she knocked the dirt off her apron. “May I sit on this border?”
“Border?” His laughter returned before motioning for her to sit. “It’s a footer. You’ll hear it referred to as the foundation when the crews arrive.”
“Footer is a gut word for it. I ran my footer into it, and it knocked me off my feeter.”
“And onto your kneezers.”
She sat. “Oh, a letter came for you today.” She dug it out of her pocket and held it up.
“Envelope removed, I see. Have I mentioned lately that I appreciate what you’re doing to help us?”
Late at night, just before she would drift off to sleep, thoughts niggled their way free of the place she hid them during waking hours. She hadn’t helped move Sandra just because she wanted to prove she was worth keeping as a hired worker. If Jacob believed in this cause with Sandra, Iva believed it too.
She turned off her camera to save the battery. At least the solar panels outside Rhoda’s greenhouses were hooked to a small converter, which gave her a way to recharge it.
“I was concerned for a little bit that maybe I was doing something wrong by helping to hide Sandra.”
He lowered the pages of the letter. “I didn’t realize that, although I guess I should have considered it. Do we need to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “If you think it’s wise and necessary, I trust that.”
His face didn’t yield to a smile, but his green eyes reflected appreciation before he went back to reading the letter from Sandra. “She sounds surprisingly peaceful and maybe even happy.”
“You’d like where she is. I think she does too.”
“Look.” He held up a piece of white paper with colored scribbles. “Casey drew me a picture. Sandra wrote that Casey says she loves me and misses me every second of every day.”
His faint smile warmed Iva’s heart.
“I can’t wait until all this cloak-and-dagger stuff is behind me.” He folded the letter and shoved it into his pocket. “Denki.”
“Anytime.” She began reviewing the images on her camera just to be sure it hadn’t taken an unnoticed hit. “So if I pose a question extremely politely, do you mind answering it?”
“Can’t imagine why I would.” Jacob picked up his shovel and moved back to his pile of gravel.
“You’ve been working out here for three weeks, from right after breakfast until dark, ya?”
“Ya.” He dug the shovel into the wheelbarrow of gravel.
“Rhoda, Leah, or Phoebe brings food to you.”
“Ya.”
For Every Season Page 30