Landon sighed and scrolled through Bible passages on the laptop resting on his legs. When Samuel had asked him to leave the farm until Monday, Landon’s temptation to ask Leah to go with him had been unbearable. But he’d fought with himself and walked away. What was the right thing to do? He and Leah could marry and be done with Benjamin King. Only two things stopped him—
His phone rang. It was the number from the barn office! “Leah?”
“It’s me,” she whispered.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Daed was awful yesterday, but he’s not said a word to me today. Last night before I went to bed, he gave us an ultimatum. Either I return to Pennsylvania with him, or you can quit working for Orchard Bend Farms and give your word you won’t see me anymore.”
Landon’s heart raced, and all he could think of was picking up Leah once everyone was asleep and them running off together. Think, Landon. Be rational. But he hated ultimatums. Hated them. The giver of one believed he had all the power. But rarely did one person have all the power.
Could he negotiate with Benjamin? It’d be preferable to doing something rash, like breaking ties with all of Leah’s family. Maybe he could get Benjamin to put a time frame on what he wanted, something reasonable like separating them for only a few months. He and Leah could weather that, but if her Daed thought that’s all it would take to break them up, he might agree to it. “He’s actually given us something we can work with.”
“How?”
“We’ll try to—”
Leah gasped. “Daed’s coming this way. I have to go. You’re coming to work tomorrow?”
“Nothing could keep me away.” Although Benjamin could keep the two apart once Landon was on the property.
He heard the distinct click of a phone being put in its cradle. He put his phone down. What did he possess that would cause Benjamin to negotiate?
The front door opened, and his grandmother’s spry steps carried her inside. She tossed in his lap a white bag with a silver apple icon. “Who’d have thought a phone store would be that crowded on a Sunday?”
Landon opened the bag. She’d had to drive more than an hour to get to the phone store. But to get this phone activated today and put on his account, that’s where it needed to be bought. “Granny, thank you.”
“The man had it at the counter, waiting for me, when I arrived. Is it the one you asked to be set aside when you called them?”
“Yes.” He clutched it. “I can breathe again. You did that.”
She moved to her recliner. “From your expression I assume there’s been no change of heart in Benjamin King.”
“He’s given Leah an ultimatum. Either she returns to Pennsylvania, or I leave the farm and never see her again.”
“What will you do?”
“Not sure, but I never imagined all this drama and the threats. What has me baffled is trying to figure out what’s truth and what’s overzealous religion. I think I’d rather try to find a needle in a haystack.”
“She’s his daughter, and you have to respect that.”
“I know. But where’s the line between godly obedience and using God’s Word to get your own way?” Besides, did Benjamin have a clue how much Landon was needed on the farm? Or that Leah was needed just as much? “I gotta figure out what I need to do. Otherwise I’m paralyzed.”
“I’ve yet to hear you say what you want.”
“I want to remain faithful to what Rhoda and Orchard Bend Farms need. I want it to be okay with Leah’s family that Leah and I love each other. But most of all, I want to marry her.”
But none of that addressed the foundational questions: what was right, and what did Leah want? Unfortunately, the priority of those questions came in that order. What was right had to come ahead of what he or Leah wanted.
“What I don’t want is for us to have to marry in a hurry. It’s ridiculous that we’re being forced into a divisive, bridge-burning position.”
He turned his focus to his laptop again and decided to check out the verse of the day on Bible Gateway.“ ‘And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope.’ Romans 5:3–4”
He moaned.
Surely God didn’t expect him to do as Leah’s Daed wanted. How could he walk away from the woman he loved?
ELEVEN
Gray, murky light began to lessen the darkness as Jacob dressed for the day. The Amish family he lived with—Noah, Barb, and their five children—were still asleep. He usually ate breakfast with them, and she fixed him a sack lunch, so he’d leave them a note before he slipped out. But since he was awake early, he’d get a jump-start on his day.
The lumberyard had delivered wood yesterday for making mantels for the new houses. He wasn’t sure why they’d brought it here instead of the construction site, but he needed to get it loaded.
While pulling his suspenders over his shoulders, he knocked a book off the nightstand. He picked it up. A Bible. The tattered leather cover and the coarse, heavy pages indicated it was an old one.
He sat on the edge of the bed and opened it. He couldn’t make out the words—the light was too dim—but he caressed the pages. Regardless of how easy it was to go his own way, he did want to find peace. But answering his brother’s calls or saying I forgive you felt impossible.
Was Jacob now as far from doing what was right as he’d been in his teen years? When he’d left the Amish as a teen to travel and support himself by doing construction work, he had no desire to sin. His scrape with the law was more a matter of being fresh off the farm and not understanding what was legal than anything else. When he realized his actions were illegal, he believed he could set everything right while helping a friend. That was his biggest mistake.
He wasn’t the best decision maker, and he was a restless soul, but he wasn’t a bad guy. At least he didn’t think so. He seemed to fall somewhere between not being bad and not doing as he thought God wanted in every circumstance. Instead of landing at the halfway point, causing him to be balanced, it just left him …
Useless.
He laid down the Bible, threw the covers on his bed into place, and left the room. After writing Noah and Barb a note, he grabbed his coat and tool belt and eased out the back door. Cold air and patches of fog welcomed him. With it being the first of April, highs in the midfifties, and lots of sunshine, even the most stubborn mounds of snow had melted.
He hitched the horse to the wagon, and by the time he had it loaded with the wood and fresh supplies, sunlight was streaming through broken, pink clouds with golden linings. He climbed onto the driver’s seat and headed through town.
Rhoda had helped him find peace. With God. With himself. She’d been his strength and inspiration to get free of his legal issues. After leaving her behind, he’d finished what he’d begun by using the immunity he’d been given and testifying in court. Every trial—criminal and civil—was now behind him.
Odd really. As unrestricted as his life was—no legal authorities chasing him, no fear of his past pinning him to an orchard, no church ministers watching his every move—he’d never felt more imprisoned. So if freedom didn’t make one free, what did? If he knew the answer to that, maybe he wouldn’t feel so restless.
Movement up ahead drew him from his thoughts, and he saw an Amish woman walking down the middle of street. He slowed the rig to a crawl, studying her from afar.
The slight limp was a dead giveaway. Esther.
She hobbled near the area where they’d collided last week, apparently looking for something. Had he not gathered up all her scattered treasures?
His horse whinnied. She looked up, and her eyes grew wide as she stuck out her hand and shook her head, clearly asking him not to run over her.
His laughter caused pigeons on the nearby roofs to scatter into the sky.
After stopping the rig a good fifty feet from her, he got down and tied the reins to a hitching post. At the far end of the block sto
od a horse and wagon, carrying what appeared to be shutters. While approaching her, he began talking. “Seems to me you’re just asking to be run over again.”
One barely-there dimple deepened with her smile before she returned her attention to the gutters along the curb. “And it seems to me you’re just itching to do a repeat performance.”
He chuckled. “You did say the accident was the most entertaining event to happen to you in a while, but I thought it best not to indulge you this time.”
A smile crossed her lips. “Denki.”
“For running over you with my horse the first time or for resisting this time?”
Her laughter welcomed him. But when she turned back to searching the gutters, he felt something stir inside. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A desire for friendship. It surprised him that he liked her. With the exception of immediate family, he’d never really desired to befriend women. That was part of the reason Rhoda had knocked him off his feet. He’d just turned twenty-three, and she’d been the first woman to hold his interest.
But he was tired of thinking about Rhoda. Tired of rehashing what had once existed between them.
“So just why are we standing in this road looking around?”
With the toe of her shoe, Esther nudged wet leaves out of the gutter. “I’m missing two sets of antique doorknobs.”
He saw a slight flinch and heard an almost inaudible sharp breath.
“Does your knee feel any better?”
“Not yet.” She continued walking along the gutter, kicking debris out of the way as she went.
Jacob went with her. “I hate to keep repeating myself, but if your knee still hurts, you should be seen. I’m the one who ran into you, so the bill will be mine, not yours.”
“It’s only been a week today. It’ll be better in a month.”
“Does Ammon realize how much your knee is bothering you?”
She startled, seemingly embarrassed. Was she bothered by the way Ammon treated her in front of Jacob the other day? She shouldn’t be. That was Ammon’s to own, not hers.
But Jacob wished he hadn’t mentioned Ammon’s name. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s not discuss Ammon. I won’t ask you what he thinks, and I won’t try to force you to go to a doctor. But if you feel you need to see one, the bill is mine to pay, okay?”
She studied him with warm, expressive eyes. “That plan works.”
“Gut.”
She returned her attention to the gutter while walking. “Look! Isn’t that one?”
The sun glinted off something buried under wet leaves. “Let me get that.” Jacob grabbed the two connected glass doorknobs, saving her from bending her knee. “Here you go.”
Looking pleased, she took it from him and brushed off the grime and rotting leaves.
It couldn’t be worth more than thirty dollars, even if she got top price for it. “We’re getting too far from the accident. Let’s go back, and I’ll check the other side of the street.” After waiting for a car to pass, he ran across the road, and as he worked his way back to where the accident happened, he spotted the missing doorknobs. “Got ’em.”
“Really?”
He held them up. “Ya.” He walked to where she was and gave them to her. “I guess if that’s all of them, I should be on my way.”
“Actually”—she looked at the palm of her hand and then ran it down her coat, wiping off debris from the doorknobs, he guessed—“if you came by the shop, you could show me how to connect the shutters. Ammon’s keeping the children until after lunch so I can get some work done, and think of how much more I could get done if I had a clue what I was doing. The warehouse is only a couple of blocks from here.”
“Ammon won’t mind?”
“Not a bit. If he could, he’d hire you to help me. Now Dora, she would mind. She’s asked me more than once if I did anything to sabotage you and her.” Esther headed for her wagon. “And I had to admit that we did talk about you two dating. She’s really angry with me.”
Jacob hated that he’d caused trouble between them. He walked with Esther. “I didn’t mean to drag you into the conversation. I barely mentioned your name, and she was immediately suspicious that you may have said something to influence me.”
“And did I?”
“No. I’d told her from the start that I was leaving in April, but since she was thinking of things more seriously than I was, it was time to end it. Sorry for my part in causing trouble.”
“Completely forgiven. It’s not your fault that my relationship with Dora is a bit complicated. I get motherly and smother her at times. Anyway, sibling issues aside …” Esther’s wry smile hinted of her scheming something, and he was intrigued. “You run over me with your horse, and then you cause my sister to be angry with me.”
He could tell by her playful tone where she was headed. “And don’t forget your injured knee.”
“Ouch.” She immediately grabbed her knee and started an exaggerated hobble. “I know how you can make up for it.”
“Let me guess. Uh, shutters?”
“The warehouse is really close. I’ll lead the way.”
“Go ahead, and I’ll catch up.” Jacob hurried back to his wagon, wishing he’d eaten breakfast. By the time he got to his rig and started out, he was about a block behind Esther. They continued on for another two blocks, and then she turned onto a driveway next to a large brick building, but it wasn’t a warehouse. An electric sign in the window read Hudson’s Decorative Ironwork. The sidewalk had a display of tables, chairs, sections of fences, and a piece of a banister. Then it clicked. This was the place that had provided the banisters for the houses he was finishing for Kings’ Construction.
As Jacob brought the horse to a stop, a tall, burly black man came out a side door. Jacob recognized him as the man who’d been Esther’s driver the day she came to the construction site. “Shark Bait.” The man scowled. “I expected you sooner. Where have you been?” He gestured at Jacob. “And why do you have a King of Kings’ Construction with you?”
Esther grinned. “He kept trying to run over me with his rig, and I’m trying to rehabilitate his bad behavior by putting him to work.”
The man nodded. “I’m Bailey Hudson.”
Jacob hopped down. “Jacob King.”
“He’s going to show me how to put these shutters together.” Esther looped the reins around the handle of the brake and scooted across the bench seat toward the step down.
Bailey eyed her. “Knee bothering you again?”
How did the man know that?
Bailey went to the side of the wagon near the bench seat. “You promised me about that knee. Are you keeping your promise this time, or am I calling Ammon?”
Esther shook a doorknob at Bailey. “If you think I’m spending my morning away from the house to go to the doctor’s, you’ve lost your marbles. All they’ll say is stay off it, don’t tote children, and take ibuprofen.”
“That’s not all, Miss Essie. They’ll also say you need to get an MRI.” Bailey scowled, but he held out his hands. “Well, come on.”
She set the doorknobs on the bench seat, put her hands on his shoulders, and he eased her to the ground.
Bailey turned to him. “It’s nice of you to help our little Shark Bait, Jacob. And for your reward, let me invite you to breakfast.”
Esther grabbed the two sets of doorknobs from the bench seat. “Don’t let Bailey fool you. He goes by the diner most mornings to buy breakfast for his workers, and he gets too much every single time. If you’ll eat, you’ll be doing him the favor.”
“True enough. Even Shark Bait can’t possibly eat all I got today.”
Jacob balanced the shutters on one shoulder.
Bailey grabbed several shutters too. “Jacob, you hungry?”
“I am. But I’m more curious—‘Shark Bait’ and ‘Miss Essie’?”
The man grinned, his white teeth in sharp contrast to his dark skin. “You come inside, and maybe I’ll show you why we call her that.�
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Esther narrowed her eyes at the man.
Bailey shrugged, his eyes mockingly wide, as if he were afraid of her.
Jacob needed to be doing his own work, but he also owed Esther some of his time. That actually just gave him a rationalization for being here. Right now, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. “How many nicknames do you have?”
She sighed. “Too many. My understanding is my Daed started it, but most of them have been given by this one.” She gestured from Bailey’s head to his toes.
Bailey grinned. “Me and her Daed go way back.” He nodded for Jacob to follow him. Esther continued to walk toward the side door while Jacob and Bailey leaned the shutters against the building.
Bailey dusted his hands together as they returned to the wagon for more. “You’re probably wondering just who is the boss around here.” He smiled, pure joy radiating from his eyes. “It’s definitely me. Just keep that under wraps. Okay?”
Jacob laughed. “Sure. But why does she call it a warehouse?”
“There’s one out back. She fell in love with it when her Daed started bringing her here before she knew how to speak English.”
“You’ve known her that long?”
“Her Daed was a farmer, but during the late fall and winter months, he’d work in the warehouse for me, and she tagged along when allowed.”
“I suppose it was some of your men who put in railings for the porches, staircases, and catwalks, both inside and out, at the new houses.”
“Yeah, that’s right. They did a good job, right?”
“Excellent.”
“Good.”
They finished unloading the wagon. When they stepped into the shop, Jacob breathed in the aroma of coffee and breakfast foods. His stomach rumbled as he scanned the place. Five middle-aged men were at workbenches, and a couple of them had on welding helmets and had lit torches in hand.
Bailey pointed. “Breakfast is in the kitchen, and that’s at the back of the building. Help yourself to anything that’s there.” He gestured to some privacy screens toward the front where customers would enter from the sidewalk. “That’s Shark Bait’s workspace.”
Seasons of Tomorrow Page 9