Even though her heart was crushed and her future was in limbo, Leah could see that finding the strength to get through this would come, in part, by letting her friends help her.
Jacob clicked his tongue and tapped the reins against the horse’s back. “Geh.”
He had a few hours before he’d meet a driver at Noah’s and head for the train station. At the end of his journey, Sandra and Casey waited for him. He looked forward to a couple of weeks with Casey, but ignoring his better judgment, right now he had hammered out a bit of time to say good-bye to Esther. Unless something had changed her plans, she should be at the shop.
He hadn’t talked to her since she and Bailey came to look through the new houses a week ago. Jacob had given Esther and Bailey a tour, and as she oohed and aahed over Jacob’s work, they talked about construction as if it was her favorite topic. Later the three of them had sat on the floor and eaten the sandwiches Bailey’s wife had made for them. It was then that Jacob realized he liked her a little too much. So he’d decided to put distance between them.
He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since.
The houses were done. The buyers would close on them next week, but Jacob had nothing to do with that part. His job was finished, and later today he’d put this little town behind him … forever. So what could it possibly hurt to say good-bye? He pulled into the parking lot and tethered his horse to a hitching rail.
Jacob went in the side door and saw numerous men, some wearing welding helmets. Unfamiliar music played in the background as he received nods and waves. He glanced to Esther’s workspace, hoping to see her.
Bailey sat behind the desk and had the phone to his ear. He waved, gesturing that he’d be with Jacob in a minute.
While Bailey and Esther were at the new houses, Jacob had learned a few things about the connection between them. Bailey and his wife had five grown children, all sons. When his wife was seriously injured, breaking her neck and back, he’d hired Esther to be full-time help for her. Esther was thirteen at the time, and his wife had needed her constant help for two years. Esther had stopped working for Bailey when her father became ill, but a few months after he died, Bailey hired Esther to help his wife again, especially when the Hudson family traveled on vacations. And that seemed to be a source of joy for Esther—traveling, all expenses paid. Jacob found it really odd that the church ministers would continue to let a married woman and mom travel with Bailey and his wife.
Bailey put the corded phone into its cradle and stood. “Jacob.”
“I’m leaving in a few hours, and I haven’t seen Esther since you two came to the new houses last week. I thought if she was around, I’d say bye.”
Bailey’s brows furrowed. “I suppose it is that time, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Shark Bait is running late, but she should be on her way. With the town fire sale next week, she’s finishing items to sell at her booth. I’m sure she could use another hand if you have time.”
“I can’t stay long, but I’ll do what I can.” He could handle working by her side. But if she didn’t show up, could he go by her house without it seeming improper? It wasn’t as if he was planning a rendezvous—although wanting to speak to her this much did seem to cross a line.
He shouldn’t like her as much as he did. She was married, for Pete’s sake. But that didn’t keep her from being an unexpected ray of light for him at the end of what’d been a really long, dark tunnel—a black passageway he’d entered when he lived with the Englisch. That tunnel had almost caved in on him when he and Rhoda broke up.
Bailey rapped his fingers on the arms of his chair. “You coming back this way at any point?”
“Maybe.” Jacob shrugged and then rethought his answer. The only draw to this place was a married woman. “Actually, no chance.”
“I hate to hear that.” Bailey rubbed the back of his neck. “For several years now I’ve wanted to build a kitchen in my backyard, and after seeing your work and the diligence you give to detail, I’d like you to build it.”
“I appreciate it, but it’s time for me to go.”
“But you could come back this way after you finish whatever you’re leaving to do. I pay top dollar for work on my place.” He grabbed the mouse and made a few clicks, and an outdoor kitchen showed up on the screen. “This is what I have in mind. Esther could be a lot of help on the details I’d like added. Then I’d like the cement around the pool redone so that it matches the new that will be poured for the outdoor kitchen. Can you do that too?”
“I’m capable but not when in another state, Bailey.”
“Hey, boss.” One of the men held up a set of blueprints, motioning for Bailey.
“Hang on.” He gestured at the man first and then at his computer. “Care to see why we call her Shark Bait?”
“Sure.”
“You know she’s not going to like me showing you.”
“Yeah.” Jacob chuckled. The man had mentioned the clip several times while at the new house. “But you’ve been wanting to show me anyway, right?”
“True.” Bailey moved the mouse, clicking on this and that until footage of a skinny girl with a ponytail appeared. She was wearing a baseball cap and Capri pants while standing in ocean water halfway to her knees. She had a fishing pole in her hands as she fought to reel in whatever was on her line. “Recognize her?”
Jacob studied the screen. “No.” All he could see was a wobbly video of the back of an underweight girl as she fought to stay standing. “You’re saying that’s Esther?”
“When she was nineteen.”
“She was a rail.”
“Yeah, she got that way while caring for her Daed for three years before he died. It scared my wife and me. She got worse after …” He shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell. I reckon if you want to know more, you’ll have to ask her.” Bailey stood. “I gotta check on what Charlie needs. I’ll be back.”
First there was the offer to work with Esther on a construction project and now this? Why would Bailey encourage Jacob in any way concerning Esther? With the question still ringing inside him, he watched the clip. She must’ve been walking deeper into the ocean, because the water was now almost to her knees. Her voice and the sound of seagulls and the ocean came through the monitor: “I’ve never fished … for striper from shore …” She was out of breath and talking to the camera. “But Travis bet me I couldn’t catch one, and, as always, I’m here to prove him wrong. I put squid on my line, and I’ve hooked something. Now to reel it in …”
Who was Travis? The camera turned in jerky movements to give a shot of the shoreline behind the beach area. A piercing scream made Jacob want to grab the camera and focus it on Esther again. The lens jerked back to her. She was hurrying back to dry sand, toting the fishing pole while screaming. “Shark!” She looked back. “He’s coming at me!”
“Essie, drop the fishing pole!” Bailey’s voice was undeniable. “You’re reeling in its supper!”
Bailey ran into the scene. So who was doing the filming?
“Drop the pole!” Bailey screamed, running for her.
She flung it onto the shore, with about a two-pound fish on the line, flopping in the ebb and flow of the water. Then a small shark, weighing maybe a hundred pounds, dove out of the water and toward Esther’s legs.
Esther jumped and fell on dry sand. Voices clamored as she backed up on shore, walking much like a crab and pointing as the shark wriggled away from shore and into deeper water.
She broke into laughter and turned, smiling directly into the camera. “And that’s how to catch a striper. Apparently striper is also known as shark bait.”
The camera moved to the striper.
Bailey grabbed her off the sand and engulfed her in a hug. “You were the shark bait.”
The footage faded into a series of stills. Jacob watched as strangers popped up on screen in various destinations—a beach, the mountains, the Grand Canyon, New York City. Apparently Bailey enjoyed traveling, t
aking along friends and family. Some of the images included a woman in a wheelchair, and Esther was often the only white face in the crowd, but her smile radiated joy.
“Sorry.” Bailey set a notepad on his desk. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long.”
Jacob got up from Bailey’s office chair, and Bailey sat and rocked back. “You know what I find interesting about that whole shark scenario?”
Jacob looped a thumb through one suspender. “That the moment the danger was over, she found the situation funny?”
“That too, but she automatically calls the shark a he. I’ve not pointed it out to her, but she’s never referred to it as an it or a she.”
Jacob could see that in her. How much of it was compounded by helping pregnant girls? “What I thought was the most interesting is that the cameraman never set the camera down to try to help her.”
“Travis, my son. He knew trying to help her would only make the situation worse.” Bailey turned off the monitor. “Will you keep in contact?”
What an odd question. “I hadn’t planned on it. Do you need me to?”
“No, not for me, but maybe … someone.”
“Am I missing something? Because I can’t see where anyone in this area needs me to stay in contact.”
Bailey clenched his lips, nodding. “I guess you’re right.”
“You guess? Bailey, what is it you’re not saying?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Jacob had never considered himself insightful when it came to people. Many lied, and he was rarely aware of it until he’d been hooked into helping or was hurt by it, but he had a definite feeling that Bailey was covering up something.
“Is Esther sick or something?”
“No. She’s fine.”
So what did Bailey want him to know but wasn’t free to say? “I mean no disrespect, but this conversation is really confusing.”
Bailey sighed. “Yeah, I can see where it would be puzzling. I usually find the answer is to ask questions. Lots of them. To the right people.”
The screen door jerked open, and Esther walked in, carrying a basket. Someone turned the volume way up on the music.
Esther smiled. “Ya, ya, ya, I’m here. And look”—she bent her knee and stretched her leg straight a few times—“it works without pain.”
The men applauded.
Bailey leaned in. “Don’t know why, but she finally went to see a specialist, and she’s been doing what he said.”
“Good for her.” Jacob knew why.
She headed for her workspace behind the privacy screens. The men started clapping to the beat of the music, and the music blared even louder. She rolled her eyes, set the basket down, and immediately made moves like a dancing robot—smooth, to the beat, and funny. Jacob suppressed laughter, but the men didn’t, and they applauded.
He knew why she did the little dance—because in her father’s final days, he told her a lot of things that didn’t necessarily line up with the Ordnung. She told Jacob that one day he clutched her hand and said, “Always remember to dance.” He hadn’t needed to clarify what kind of dancing he was referring to. Esther had told Jacob she would often do an innocent jig throughout the house when she was young, but he’d punished her for it time and again, even sending her to bed without dinner a couple of nights when she was twelve. But as her father’s physical strength drained, he saw life differently, and when he whispered the insights, she took them to heart.
After a final move she stopped and waved her hand under her neck, giving the cut-the-noise motion, and someone turned down the music.
“The wagon is loaded. Could someone give Ammon a hand?” Without looking at Bailey or noticing Jacob, she went to her workspace.
Bailey stood. “She’s not supposed to lift anything for a while.”
Jacob wished he hadn’t seen the video clip or watched her respond to the music. It only made him like her more. He shouldn’t have come. “I could use some air, so I’ll do it.” He strode out the door.
SEVENTEEN
Landon led the last three horses into the barn for the night. He stopped near the saddle racks and dropped the reins. When bridled, these horses wouldn’t budge until told. They were too well trained. He unfastened the breast collar from the D-rings and began removing the latigo from its ring. Because he’d learned to ride, feed, and work with horses while on the farm in Maine, he’d applied for work on this guest ranch. After all, he knew plenty about horses. Or so he’d thought.
He’d been wrong.
Alec strode into the barn, his cowboy hat in place and his spurs jingling. Odd sight, really. One that would take as much getting used to as Amish attire had when he began working for Rhoda years ago.
Thing was, Landon didn’t look much different from Alec. He’d had to trade in his work boots and baseball cap for cowboy boots and a hat, but he didn’t wear spurs. One thing for sure, no one wearing spurs could sneak up on anybody. Landon figured he could put bells on his boots and have the same effect for a lot less money, and since no one used spurs on the horses, the bells would be just as useful.
Aside from this guest ranch, he didn’t recall ever seeing cowboys in Pennsylvania, even in the Poconos. But it was beautiful here—mountains, valleys, lakes, and wildlife.
“How’s the new guy tonight?”
Landon pulled the blanket and saddle off the horse in one swoop and set the saddle on a rack. “Same as yesterday. Tired of being called the new guy.”
Alec cracked his knuckles. “It stops when someone else is hired, which could be a year from now.”
Would Landon be here that long? Most of the workers were nice, but the hardest part of this job was living in a bunkhouse. He’d never had to share a room in his life, and now he had three other guys in there with him.
“Test time.” Alec let the horse nuzzle against him before he moved to its side. “This one’s been on the trail all day, ridden by a woman who is no featherweight, and”—he ran his hands over the horse’s back and girth on one side and then moved to the other—“it’s apparent the horse sweated as she needed to. No cowlicks where the saddle was on wrong, no cinch marks, no evidence the pad slipped back and caused the saddle to rub against her.” He lifted her mane near her shoulders, still inspecting her. “I’d say you saddled her right this morning.”
Having worked here only a week, Landon was still learning all the dos and don’ts of how to treat horses. A horse that stayed on the trail all day, with a different rider every few days, needed attentive care, starting with preventive measures—equipment that fit and proper saddling. A horse in pain spooked easily, and part of Landon’s job was to make sure the horses were never in pain.
Alec removed the horse’s bridle, adjusted her halter, and grabbed a brush. “After we get these three taken care of, we’re off for the evening. Since the guests leave in the morning and no others arrive until the following day, we’ve been given off until noon tomorrow.”
Landon glanced outside. It was pitch black. “I guess that means some extra sleep.”
“Where is your partying spirit, dude? I’ve been looking for it since you got here.” Alec made short, fast strokes with the brush. “We go into NYC during breaks like this. Since you didn’t go with us last time, I’ll ask again, you got somebody?”
Landon wished he knew. Would Leah wait? Did he even want her to? Maybe she’d be better off finding an Amish guy and building a life with him.
Alec stood straight, peering over the horse’s back. “Gabi’s got her eye on you. Any interest?”
Landon shook his head as he unsaddled the last horse.
“She’s cute. Nice. Enjoys having fun.”
“I appreciate it, but I have someone. Maybe … probably.” Heat flushed his body. How had he let things happen in such a way that he didn’t even know? Is that what he and Leah needed in order to go their separate ways—no real breakup, no set plans to reunite, just a fading away of who they’d once been?
He’d given his word
to stay away from her, no communication whatsoever, for a year. It was her chance to find peace with being Amish. Her opportunity to discover if an Amish man was a better choice than he was. In that sense he was grateful he’d walked off without a way for her to contact him. Maybe they needed that.
Alec leaned back against a wall and folded his arms. “Go with us. We’ll eat out, catch a movie, walk through Times Square—nothing big or expensive, just different. Sounds to me as if you need a break from thinking about Miss Maybe-Probably. True?”
Actually, he did. If his heart didn’t stop aching, even if only for a few hours, Landon might just become an irrational lunatic while working with ranch guests.
“Sure, why not.”
Jacob finished helping Ammon unload the wagon. Since they were stacking the goods outside Esther’s privacy screen, she’d yet to realize Jacob was there. He put the last of the shutters on the pile. He’d worked with her on hinging one set, and she seemed to understand how to do it, but it had taken her a lot of time to get it right. He hadn’t realized she had this many left to do.
When he stepped back outside, Ammon was coming toward him.
“Denki, Jacob.”
“Glad to do it.”
“All that’s left is what’s under the wagon bench.” Ammon disappeared into the building, carrying two old windowpanes without glass in them.
Jacob went to the wagon, reached under the bench seat, and pulled out a crate of junk.
Ammon hurried out of the shop, dusting off his hands. “Essie told me you stayed and helped her for nearly five hours a couple of weeks ago.”
“I did.” Jacob spotted a rusty door hinge under the wagon seat and grabbed it. Ammon certainly didn’t sound as if he minded. “I thought I might stay for a bit today, just until I need to leave to catch the bus. Unless you’d rather I didn’t.” He put the hinge inside the crate he held.
“If Esther doesn’t mind, I don’t.”
Interesting and odd, but … “Gut. So where are your boys today?”
“Dora’s at the house, baby-sitting.” Ammon propped his forearms on the top of the wagon side. “Listen, Essie said I don’t need to bring this up, but I disagree. I probably shoulda come to you and said my piece before now. Since we’re together, can I get something off my chest?”
Seasons of Tomorrow Page 15