For Every Season Page 17

  “In exchange for you marrying him.”

  “Well … yes.”

  “That’s just a nicer way of selling someone, only it’d be for a lifetime.”

  “My father believes I’m the one being selfish to do only what I want.”

  “He’s rationalizing. In his mind he’s figured out all the reasons he’s not wrong. He can probably even put scripture to it. But Jacob once told me something I’ve never forgotten. If you can remove all chance of making any money or perks from a venture, does that change how you feel about it? If that man were poor and couldn’t help your family, would your dad still want you to marry him?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

  “If your Daed’s motivation was in your best interest, he wouldn’t let money be the deciding factor. He’s hoping to profit from it while you give up your future to a man you don’t love.”

  “So what was Jacob’s motive for breaking the law?”

  “Helping me and my husband so we didn’t go bankrupt. Finding solutions so Jacob’s buddies on the construction site didn’t lose their jobs. He wasn’t going to make a penny more for his efforts. Later he tried hiding Blaine’s crimes so my husband wouldn’t go to jail. But too many people were lying to Jacob, including me—all of us rationalizing our actions and trying to get what we wanted. We ruined his ability to do what he wanted—to make right the wrongs we’d done.”

  “Go now!” Casey slapped the table. “Go now!”

  Sandra pointed at her daughter. “Use your nice words.”

  Casey’s eyes clouded with tears. “Go home?”

  “Yes.” Sandra glanced at the motel across the road. “Such as it is.” She gathered her purse and the diaper bag. “I’m going back now to bathe her before she has a meltdown. You coming?”

  Iva shook her head. “Jacob should be at his hotel soon. He seemed under a lot of stress this morning concerning you, Casey, and me. I thought I’d relieve as much of that as I can. He’s got enough pressure with needing to testify and the frost coming.” She pointed. “And there’s a pay phone here.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You can’t call from the motel without a credit card.”

  “Even if I could use that phone, its number would show up on his caller ID. But at home when I received a call from someone at a pay phone, it never revealed the caller information.”

  Sandra stood and picked up Casey. “I loaned him my cell. You need that number?”

  “It’s in the vault.” Iva tapped her forehead, rolled her eyes, and pulled up the long sleeve to her dress. “Jacob wrote it in permanent ink before boarding the train.”

  Sandra chuckled. “You’re okay. You know that?” She shifted Casey. “You look to be about sixteen, but you’ve got the maturity of someone my age.”

  “So I look like a teen and think like a mom. Got it.”

  Sandra raised an eyebrow. “That was a Jacob statement if I ever heard one.”

  Sandra looked to be pushing forty, but Jacob said she wasn’t much older than him. As Iva was driving Jacob to the train station before dawn, he’d given her a few tips for helping Sandra. He’d been right—listening and humor would lead to smooth sailing.

  She waited until nine o’clock to go to the pay phone. After putting some change into the slot, she dialed the number.

  “This is Jacob.”

  It sounded quiet where he was. “Hi. It’s Iva.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Ya, that’s why I called—to let you know we’re doing fine.”

  “That’s nice of you. A phone number didn’t come through, so I don’t even have an area code. How many hours did you travel today?”

  “I’m not saying. We had no mishaps along the way. So how are you?”

  “Sort of relieved to be at this point but far more nervous than anything.”

  “I can’t imagine having to take an oath and then answer every question about anything. I might pass out.”

  “Me too.”

  She laughed. “There is good news for both of us.”

  “I’d love to hear it.”

  “We are not manning the orchards all night, keeping those fires going. We’ll be inside, snuggly warm.”

  Jacob chuckled. “I’d rather be there than here.”

  “Next time a frost comes through, I demand you tell the others that Sandra needs to move again.”

  “From here on out, I don’t intend to lie for any reason, so I can’t help you there. But after the orchard is established and the canning business is running smoothly, maybe a year from now, Samuel will hire some more workers, and you won’t have to help in the fields. A little success for Kings’ Orchard, and you’ll be sleeping in a warm bed while the farmhands work around the clock.”

  “If that’s the plan, will I still be needed?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s my plan, ya.”

  She liked the sound of that. “Have you talked to anyone at the farm?”

  “No. They have a heavy work load tonight, so calling would only slow them down.”

  Iva unfolded the map. “I’ve been looking at the map and train schedule, and I think the best depot for you to get off at when you return is Old Orchard Beach. It’ll save me having to fight Boston traffic or going an hour north of the farm to get to our usual depot.”

  “You sure that plan will work? Last fall, when making train reservations for the move to Orchard Bend, I hoped to get a few hours at the beach along the way, but I learned the train only stops there at certain times of the year.”

  “I checked. Off-season is officially over, and the train began stopping there again about two weeks ago. It’s never easy for me to read these train schedules, but I think that unless you can board the train in Virginia by five thirty on Friday, you’ll have to catch the late one on Saturday, and I’ll meet you in Orchard Bend on Sunday around noon.”

  “Craig said we might not be done until seven or eight tomorrow night. So let’s plan on me arriving there Sunday.”

  “Sounds good. You’ll do great tomorrow.”

  “Glad you think so. Then maybe I can finally have my life back.”

  Now that she had Sandra’s version, so many questions about the position Jacob was in were zipping through Iva’s mind. But they needed to hang up before she had to add any more coins to the phone box. “I’d better go. Bye, Jacob.”

  As she gathered her assortment of maps, train schedules, and classified ads, she felt an unfamiliar weight. Since getting her driver’s license a little more than three years ago, she’d traveled to a few places close to home, either alone or with a girlfriend or two. Those road trips were just for the fun of it. It’d been exhilarating when she had money to visit places just to see them and take pictures, but Jacob trusted her to find a safe, affordable place for Sandra.

  In her desire to prove her value to the budding settlement, she had forgotten to ask herself what would happen if she proved the opposite.

  NINETEEN

  The skies were a gorgeous red and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Leah bundled her coat around her as she trudged through the orchard, her toes and fingertips stinging with the early night’s frosty bite. This would be their first night to maintain the fires.

  As she approached one of the steel drums, she noticed it needed more wood. She took two logs from a nearby pile and tossed them into the oversize can. Ashes and embers flew out. The logs popped and sizzled away the bits of frost that had accumulated on them.

  “Hallo?” Samuel’s voice crackled through her two-way. “Has anyone checked on barrels thirty-one through thirty-six in the last couple of hours?”

  Leah unclipped the walkie-talkie from her coat pocket and pushed the button. “Ya, I’m here now.” She scanned the drums down the row.

  They’d started the fires around nine that morning, aiming to build the smog effect that would create a shield of heat hovering over the treetops. The temperature had dropped below
freezing several hours ago, and Leah was already looking forward to tomorrow afternoon when it’d warm up for a few hours and she could get some sleep.

  She pushed the talk button on the two-way again. “I had to feed the ones that needed it, and now we’re low on lumber at those barrels.”

  The fires were growing larger, but it’d be quite a night to keep them going. And tomorrow night too. Hopefully, they’d need to keep this up for only two nights.

  The strategic placement of the dozens of steel drums was done. The low-lying areas of the orchard had blazing fires going to keep the hoarfrost off the trees so they could continue budding.

  “All right,” Samuel acknowledged. “I’m in the farthest dip on the west side. It’ll be a while before I can get back that way.”

  “I just filled the wagon with wood. I’ll take her a load,” Landon chimed in.

  “Thanks.” She reattached her two-way, smiling at the sound of Landon’s voice.

  She rubbed her gloved hands together and held them out to the warm drum, feeling a rush of relief as the heat eased her fingers of their numbness. Staring into the soft glow of the flames, she allowed her mind to wander. Long before she’d met Landon, she’d dreamed about leaving the Amish—actually she’d dreamed that for most of her life. But did she really want to separate from the Amish, from her family, and forsake the safety net interwoven among so many relatives? When Kings’ Orchard had suffered storm damage, family and church members from across the state had given money and supplies to help them restore the property and purchase this one. Without charging a penny, Jacob and their brother Eli had repaired Amish homes that’d been damaged. Her Daed had provided families with food from the farm—milk, eggs, and homemade yogurts. Every Mamm who was able in the storm-ravaged area had made meals for those whose kitchens had been damaged. No one went hungry or felt isolated or was overwhelmed without the Amish people reaching out, giving all they had to bring comfort.

  They didn’t do that based on the rules Leah hated so much. They did so because those who kept the Old Ways had favor with all the others who did the same. The Amish were a family.

  But if tragedy brought out the best in the Amish, someone leaving the faith brought out the worst in them. Even if she was willing to give up the good parts of living Amish, was she willing to suffer all the angst it’d take to get free?

  Landon thought he knew what it’d take for her to get free, but he didn’t. The pressure her family and community would apply was similar to the present battle with mother nature, only the harsh, cold treatment from her community wouldn’t improve in a few days. Or even a few years.

  Still, if she wanted help in leaving, she had the very best—Landon. He wasn’t pulling or pushing. But—

  Something touched her shoulder, and she gasped. She spun around to see Landon standing there with a stack of lumber balanced on his right arm and a travel mug in his left hand. He grinned, handing the mug to her. “Didn’t mean to scare you, but I gotta admit, it was adorable.”

  He’d called her adorable. She released the breath she’d been holding since he’d touched her. “I need more wood than that. Where’s the wagon?”

  “Over the ridge where Rhoda’s fighting to keep one of the fires going.”

  She cradled the mug. “Thank you.”

  “For the cocoa, the wood, or the heart attack?” He turned around and added the logs to the dwindling pile.

  “The first two. You’ll have to pay for the third one.” She sipped the cocoa and let the sensation of sweetness and warmth permeate her. She would miss this—and a thousand things like it—if Landon grew weary of waiting for her.

  But she’d seen other Amish leave, and in her experience those ex-Amish spent a decade either embroiled in correction through letters and calls, or they received a cold shoulder—usually both. Eventually, when the families tried to put the differences behind them and open the lines of communication, it was awkward, void of affection, and empty of respect—on both sides.

  Did Landon have any idea how much she wavered on the subject? Leaving the Amish for the Englisch world would run a knife through her parents’ hearts. It didn’t matter what her reason was. Even if she believed it was God’s leading, the Amish wouldn’t accept that as reasonable thinking. To them, God had placed her in an Amish home, and it was her responsibility to live according to that calling.

  Landon knocked some debris from his gloves and coat. “The barrels in this section stoked?”

  “I’m standing here doing nothing but warming my fingers, aren’t I?”

  “Seems so.”

  “Then they’re in good shape.”

  He walked off, going down the row of apple trees, inspecting the barrels.

  “So”—she cupped her hands around the mug of hot chocolate—“my word that all is well isn’t good enough?”

  He barely glanced at her before motioning he’d be back in a minute.

  Her thoughts returned to the struggle it’d be to leave the Amish. Jacob was the only one she’d seen leave and return home without having to go through misery, but he’d simply packed his bags and disappeared. He’d called every so often just to let the family know he was safe. When anyone had tried to convince him what he needed to do, he’d politely gotten off the phone. Then they wouldn’t hear from him for months. His parents had quickly learned that if they wanted him to stay in touch, they’d best not push him to come home.

  That was Jacob. He’d been very “my way or the highway” with his family, and armed with confidence and strong carpentry skills, he’d made it work for him.

  Leah couldn’t disappear the way he had. Not only did she lack the skills to make good money, but she had no desire to disappear, leaving her family to long for her.

  Was that why more girls than guys stayed Amish? Because their hearts were too tender toward their families? Then, like Jacob, the men often stayed or returned because they’d fallen in love with a woman who was unwilling to forsake her family.

  Landon ambled back toward her, a broad smile in place. “The fires are all good in your section, and I don’t see any frost accumulating on your trees.”

  She refused to return his grin. He needed to believe she was plotting against him for scaring her a few minutes ago.

  He stretched his hands over the heat.

  Leah scowled. “But you just had to inspect them regardless of me telling you they were good.” Did he get tired of her teasing and being sassy?

  “Rhoda said do a visual, and so I did. She’s always been like a mother hen over her fruit crops, and if she didn’t trust me to do exactly as she asked, I wouldn’t be much use to her, would I?”

  “Ah.” She took another sip of cocoa and decided to move to a different topic. “Do you think Jacob’s in Virginia by now?”

  “Should be, unless the train was delayed or something.”

  “I’m proud of him for doing this.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool, I guess.”

  “You guess? He made mistakes and is owning up to them.” Was she not seeing some aspect of what Jacob was doing?

  “He helped make the train wreck. It’s only right he help clean it up. You sound as if he deserves a trophy.”

  “It’s hard to own up to the bad things we’ve done. He thought he might go to jail.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He shrugged. “And it’s good he’s getting it straight. But if you’re looking for heroes in this, I think it was pretty cool of Rhoda and Samuel to help him out financially and for Iva to volunteer like she did. I expected Steven to have some strong words for Jacob leaving again while this farm needs him. Did he?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “See, that’s the main thing I respect about the Amish. They help each other out no matter what.”

  She took a long sip of her cocoa. “As long as one stays Amish.”

  Landon stepped toward her, removing his gloves. He held out one hand.

  She stood there for a moment, not quite certain how to receive this gestu
re. “I thought you didn’t like holding hands.”

  His lopsided smile made her heart thump. He lowered his arm, jiggling it for a moment, and a booklet slid out of his coat sleeve and into his hand. “Care to take a look at this?”

  She took it from him and studied the front of it: State of Maine Motorist Handbook and Study Guide. “A driver’s manual?” Had she shrieked at him?

  “I thought you’d like the idea.”

  With her index finger she made looping circles near her temple. “Everything keeps churning inside my head. My past. My future. If I leave the Amish, then I give up everything I’ve ever known and not just the bad but the good too.” She removed a glove and flipped through the pages. “But if I stay Amish, will I ever be truly happy? There’s no guarantee either way. All I do is waver, and you bring me a book like this?”

  He stared at her. “I’ve been thinking, and it seems to me that whether you stay Amish or not, you should know how to drive. What if there’s a real need to drive one day? Maybe something that’s an emergency and you can’t wait for an ambulance? My truck could be in the driveway, but I might be out in the field somewhere, or I might be the one who needs to be driven to a clinic. Or you could need to call my grandmother and borrow her car, except that plan won’t work either because you don’t know how to drive. Every healthy adult should know how to drive and have a license. Period.”

  The war of right and wrong raged within her, and tears stung her eyes. People were wrong about the Amish life being simple. It was so very complicated. Were it not so, she would do everything in her power to hold on to Landon. She’d been so set on leaving the Amish until she’d witnessed how bravely her family had pulled together and faced all the troubles of the past year.

  “Leah, am I wrong?”

  The manual looked daunting, and she still couldn’t imagine asking her mom for her birth certificate so she could get her driver’s license. “Not wrong.” She tucked the book into her pocket. The idea felt empowering. It also felt … sinful.

  Driving aside, would it solve any of her issues about joining the faith if Landon also joined? She didn’t know if she even liked that idea. His joining the faith wouldn’t lessen her work load or make the rules easier to bear. Nonetheless, she was intensely curious. “Ever thought of becoming Amish?”