Seasons of Tomorrow

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “I’m surprised Rhoda didn’t help you pack the wagon for the day.”

  “She volunteered to, and I should’ve let her.” At the time Leah had just wanted Iva and her to get into the wagon and head out, thinking the sooner they started, the sooner they’d be done.

  Crist easily lifted the huge container with the mixture and carefully poured some into the first trap in the row that lined the back of the wagon. Leah held a towel under the drip line between the two containers—the one in Crist’s hand and the empty one in the wagon. It wouldn’t do to get the mixture on the ground. That would only attract insects and undermine their efforts.

  He moved to the next empty trap. “I got something on my mind.”

  His statement made her heart shiver. Was he going to ask her out again, as he had before he’d realized she was seeing Landon? As nice and handsome as Crist was, he wasn’t the man for her. And Leah wasn’t the woman for him—even if she’d never met Landon Olson.

  “But before I say anything else, are you doing okay these days?” Crist got in the wagon and shifted the empty molasses jug out of the way and replaced it with one that still had some in it.

  Leah exhaled slowly, intending to steady her emotions. He was fishing for answers she didn’t want to give, but she was doing better than she had expected. Actually, as strange as it seemed, Landon’s absence had a surprising upside to it. Without him waiting in the wings for her, without his love beckoning her and causing her to question whether she wanted to leave the Amish for him or for herself, she’d come to an absolute, peaceful conclusion.

  It wasn’t based on some huge revelation. At no point did she think, Now I know the answer! Her understanding and decision had come to her like a gentle snowfall, answers floating from the sky like feathery white flakes, one by one, until now, months later, everything in her life was covered in a pristine layer of answers.

  Since he’d asked her an honest question and she’d been rude not to answer, she set down everything and focused on him. “I’m good. What’s on your mind?”

  He got out of the wagon. “I don’t want to stir anything negative between us, but I need to clear the air. I don’t want to be rude or cruel, but I was wrong when I said I came to Maine for you.”

  Leah relaxed, her shoulders tingling as stress drained from her. “I’m relieved, not insulted.”

  “Gut.” He pushed a few items back, making room for them to sit on the wagon. “Because you only appeared to be who I was looking for.”

  Leah sat. “Are you telling me this for the fun of it, or is there a point?”

  “Iva. She’s the point.”

  “Ah.” Leah’s heart jittered with excitement. They just might be really happy together, but she would keep those thoughts to herself. It wasn’t wise to influence someone when it came to matchmaking. “Does she know how you feel?”

  “She knows I’d like for us to date. I asked if she’d let me take her home after the singing this Sunday night.”

  “Today’s Friday”—Leah crinkled her nose—“and she hasn’t answered you yet?”

  “She’s thinking on it, which means a lot because there’s a guy in Indiana who’s been writing to her. She’s known him for a while, and he moved out of the way when her Daed wanted her to marry someone else. But now he’s letting his interest be known.”

  “She’s been living here more than a year. I’d say it took him a while.”

  “He works for the man her Daed wanted her to marry. You know how complicated these things can get. Anyway, if she says yes, it means she told him she’s decided to see someone else.” He grinned. “Me.”

  “I definitely could see you two together.” But what did Iva want?

  Leah knew what she wanted for herself—a very plain and simple life guided by her own sense of what God wanted, not one guided by the written and unwritten rules of the Ordnung. She longed to move and breathe without feeling dirty if she let her hair down or wore a flowery dress. Or jeans.

  What she didn’t know was how she’d make a living. But she would figure that out too, and by the time she left in a year or so, she’d have a good savings from all her time working the orchard.

  “Iva’s really great.” Crist rubbed his hands together, trying to get the sticky goo off. “When I first came here, all I saw was my offense that an Amish girl had a camera.”

  “And now?”

  “She’s made me stop being afraid of picture taking as if it’s a graven image I’m going to fall down and worship. She’s capturing creation in images that say, isn’t God amazing?”

  Leah gestured toward the knoll that Iva had topped, riding a horse. “I’m not sure she’ll be willing to give it up to join the church.”

  He spotted her and smiled. “Ah, but is she the kind of girl who’d not join a faith she believes in simply because she doesn’t agree with every facet of it? Or will she accept the greater good of the faith and put the camera away or use it only when no one is around who would be offended by it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He stood and smiled at Leah. “Neither do I, but I intend to find out.” He strode to where Iva had stopped the horse and held it steady while she got down.

  “Rags and lots of them.” Iva removed the saddlebags and passed them to Crist.

  “Denki. But half of the last twenty codling moth traps I’ve removed since you left have been broken, so we don’t have enough traps … or molasses.” Leah reconnected the thick wire to one of the traps that was ready to be hung in its tree. “What took you so long anyway?”

  Iva shrugged. “I had a call to make, and it took longer than I expected.”

  Crist definitely looked uncomfortable, and when he turned to put a stack of rags into the wagon, Iva grabbed him by his shirt sleeve.

  He paused.

  Iva smiled. “The answer is ya. I’ll ride home from the singing with you.”

  All discomfort faded from Crist’s face as he smiled, showing a beautiful row of straight, white teeth. “Gut. Wunderbaar gut.”

  “I thought so. Actually, you should pick me up and take me there too.” Iva took a stack of rags from Crist. “What will we do about the broken traps?”

  Leah shrugged. “Get Jojo to take someone to the supply store tomorrow. She’s not going to live here forever, though. What Englisch person would want to stay in a home without a radio or television? Her daughter keeps asking to watch some favorite show of hers.”

  “It’s more than just that. They’re ready to feel a part of the Englisch world again. Did you hear Jojo at breakfast this morning?”

  “I left early to grab a shower. What’d I miss?”

  “Jojo is thinking about visiting Camilla later this week.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Crist frowned. “You said it’s good, but you look as if it’s not.”

  “Without her here to drive us, getting to the grocery and supply store becomes an all-day event.”

  “Ya.” Iva nodded. “But I enjoy the outings, and you know that with more Amish moving here, someone will eventually open a store closer to this area.”

  Leah’s heart about stopped. Wasn’t this the answer she’d been looking for? “That’s it!” She grabbed Iva by the shoulders. “A store! A general store right here in this area.” Chills exploded over her body.

  Iva shook the rags, looking amused and confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “We need a store in this area, ya?”

  Iva nodded. “Badly. We spend half our time ordering by phone or hiring drivers or traveling too far by horse and buggy.”

  “And it needs to be one that caters to the needs of the Amish, with farming supplies, fabric for making clothes, oil, candles, kerosene lamps, and everything else—even some basic grocery items.”

  Crist finished filling the last container and set the barrel in the back of the wagon. “But we’re all farmers thus far. Who’d run it?”

  Leah’s heart turned the biggest flip of her life. “I would.”
Could she rent the abandoned store from Erlene, maybe doing housework and laundry for her in exchange for living there? Her skin tingled with excitement. It was a perfect idea, wasn’t it? An Amish person who was willing to open that kind of store would eventually move to Maine, but if Leah got one started first …

  Her heart went wild. That she could do. No one would know what to stock in that kind of store better than she would, and it’d be worth it to Samuel and Rhoda not to have to spend so much time ordering and trying to get the goods here. Leah could make a profit and save them money!

  Crist looked hopeful. “My Daed says there’s a group of twenty Amish who hope to purchase four hundred acres not too far from here come winter.”

  Erlene would work with her, and Leah could live there while she built up the business. If she’d learned one thing from her years of living Amish, it was how to sacrifice comforts while building a successful business.

  But if Leah’s Daed had any power to wield, and he did, he’d see to it that not one Amish in this area bought anything from Leah.

  Would everyone go along with that? Would they have a choice?

  THIRTY-FOUR

  As the rain made a steady pitter-patter on the tin roof, Samuel shuffled papers inside the barn office, catching up on bills and inventory and enjoying the slower pace of a rainy day. He’d let too many supplies run out while keeping up with the demands of the orchard. There had been other rainy days, but those were spent readying the harvest kitchen for the mass production of canning that would begin next month.

  He pulled the calendar in front of him. July 6. They had about six weeks, maybe less, to get the harvest kitchen organized to run from sunup to sundown six days a week for a month or more after the last apples were picked. After this harvest they should have the money to buy more land and invest in full-time, year-round help. Lots of workers.

  Something pulled his thoughts from the paperwork in front of him. Was someone else in the barn? He left the office, scanning the area.

  His wife.

  She stood in the open doorway at the back of the building, gazing at the steady, welcome rain that soaked the orchard. If he made a guess, he’d say she was praying and thinking.

  He crossed the dirt floor. “Hi.”

  She glanced back, a tranquil smile welcoming him. “Hallo.”

  He joined her in watching the rain cover the orchard and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and across her chest.

  She rested against him, and he felt bathed in contentment. He kissed her neck, enjoying this rare moment of not having to watch their every move. When Jacob had realized rain was moving in, he made plans to go to Virginia. According to the weatherman the skies there were clear. “In three days we will have our two-month anniversary.”

  “Do you think it’s possible to keep falling deeper in love?”

  “It doesn’t feel as if it’s possible, but I think Steven and Phoebe are proof that no matter how boundless love is, it can grow as the years pass.”

  Rhoda drew a deep breath and nodded.

  She seemed serene and yet deep in thought. “Something on your mind?” He brushed his fingers along her neck.

  “She’s not going to stay, Samuel.”

  “Leah?”

  She nodded.

  “My sister said that?”

  “No. But I know it’s true. What if we’ve been wrong about Landon and her?”

  “We did our best neither to condone nor condemn their relationship. They’ve broken up, and I think it’d be a mistake to do anything that would encourage them to get back together.”

  She eased from him and leaned against the rough wood wall. “But we allowed them to see each other, knowing they were falling in love. We may not have encouraged it, but we didn’t try to stop it. Yet when the pressure from the community hit, we did nothing as they were pulled apart. I’ve wavered like a woman without faith, and I’ve done so because in this I’ve not had faith—only fear. Well, that and selfishness. I don’t want to lose her from being in our lives in ways she can only be if she remains Amish. But what about what she and Landon wanted?”

  “There were lots of factors, but they decided to break up. Not every relationship is meant to be. Aren’t you and Jacob proof of that?”

  “Jacob and I imploded because of who we were together and because you and I fell in love. But Leah and Landon were strong together until people hit them with religious prejudices and fears. I’ve been trying to figure it out,”—she touched her temple and then the center of her chest—“and all I can come up with is a question. How are our actions any different than the way Jojo treated Camilla—mistrusting, assuming, fearful, and controlling?”

  After living here a couple of weeks, Jojo had come up with a plan to meet with Camilla and the same family counselor that Camilla and her son had been going to before he was killed. Jojo and Camilla had gone to see the counselor three times, and now Jojo was thinking of introducing Sophia to her Grandmamma. It was a good start. But it wouldn’t have happened if Rhoda had kept fighting God about the intuitions or if Jojo had refused to compromise by meeting Camilla at a family counselor.

  Is that what he and Rhoda were doing concerning Leah—fighting against what they should be fighting for?

  Samuel placed a hand on the wall on each side of Rhoda, distracted by her closeness. “What you’re saying is against all the Amish believe.”

  Her eyes were locked on his, and he knew she was looking to him for confirmation and leadership. Was she right?

  The phone rang, jolting both of them. Samuel bent and kissed her on the lips, lingering longer than he should have. “Hold that thought.” He hurried into the next room. Caller ID said it was the hospital, and he grabbed the receiver. “Hello.”

  Samuel listened as Steven stumbled through the latest happenings. Phoebe’s condition had changed for the worse, and she had a long list of issues going on, including an erratic heart rate they couldn’t control. The doctors were going to take the baby, hoping that brought the needed changes in Phoebe’s health.

  Rhoda came to the door, and when she saw the look on his face, intensity pierced her eyes, and she moved in closer.

  “Do you need us to come?”

  “Not immediately. She started struggling during the night, and the doctor said if she didn’t improve by noon, they’d take the baby today. After letting Phoebe’s parents and my parents know, I called Landon. We’re at this hospital so the children and I have parents and grandparents and such, and yet I wanted Landon here. Makes little sense, but he arrived about four hours later. I knew he would. He’s been …” Steven’s voice cracked, and he cleared it. “Anyway, maybe in my exhaustion I’m just making weird and bad decisions, but I feel with such a scant crew, you all need to keep working the farm as much as possible. Besides, they’ll take the baby before you could get here. He’s only two weeks shy of being full term. If Phoebe improves as they expect, they’ll bring her out of the coma two to four days after the C-section. The doctors think her heart rate will stabilize once the baby is delivered. One of their main goals is to get her breathing on her own so they can remove the trach tube. It’s a breeding ground for bacteria, and antibiotics can do only so much.”

  Steven had obviously learned a lot during his lengthy stay.

  “So when do you want us to come?”

  “Stay there until I call back, but start making plans to come in about four days.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “We’re taking this by faith and trusting that Phoebe will improve. But it would be good if you were here when they bring her out of the coma, so I’ll let you know. If things change, I’ll call.” Someone spoke to Steven. “I have to go.”

  “Okay. Bye.” He hung up the phone and told Rhoda all that her brother had said. He remained in the chair, and she stayed on the edge of his desk, facing him. She seemed as lost in thought as he.

  Life was so fragile. If something happened to Phoebe, Rhoda and he would be devastated, but they were at p
eace with their relationship with her. But if something were to happen to Leah, he couldn’t say the same thing. That thought made his mind spin with questions. Would defying the church to support Leah be morally wrong? Would he answer to God for not using tough love with his sister?

  Why did life have to raise so many more questions than it answered?

  He took Rhoda’s hands into his. “The questions never end, and seldom can we be completely sure of the choices we make.” He squeezed her hands and took a deep breath. “But come what may, and what may come is us being shunned, we’ll let Leah know we support whatever decisions she makes. We’ll apologize to her and support her, but we won’t interfere between her and Landon. That’s theirs to work out or not. Still, from here on out, she makes her own decisions, and we back her.”

  Rhoda studied him, not a trace of a smile on her beautiful face, and he knew she had the same question as he did—what if they were wrong to support her and Landon?

  Landon watched from his chair in the overcrowded waiting room as Amish greeted one another with kisses and hugs. They talked in hushed tones, speaking in Pennsylvanian Dutch.

  Phoebe had been wheeled into the operating room about five minutes ago. His nerves were stretched tight. Most in this room didn’t know about the daily battle that was waged for Phoebe’s survival. Doctors changed her medications, altered how they administered the nutrients and oxygen, and combated constant antibiotic-resistant infections, as they fought swelling, bedsores, and more. And yet, for all the struggles, Phoebe seemed to want to live as desperately as Steven wanted her to.

  With working full-time, coming here the minute he was off, being a driver for Phoebe’s loved ones, and ensuring everyone made fresh recordings for Phoebe to listen to, Landon was bone weary. Steven had to be far more exhausted. On top of that, Steven knew the hospital bills were insurmountable, especially for a man who, like most Amish, didn’t have regular health insurance. Instead, they had some sort of co-op through the Amish. Landon hoped it would be some help.