A Season for Tending (37 page)

“So everything I do lately is wrong, is that it?”

“Pretty much, ya.” Samuel wasn’t backing down, and at this moment he didn’t care where it led. “Look in the mirror, Catherine. Figure out what’s going on with
you
, because I can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you saying?”

Her wide brown eyes bore into his, and he knew he should find the words to ease the tension, to calm their emotions. Several sentences came to mind that would bring perspective for both of them, but he couldn’t make himself
say any of them. “I’m tired. I was up all night, and this heat is wearing on everyone. I think we should go our separate ways today before we burn a bridge.”

“It was
your
choice to work all through the night to help Rhoda, and now you’re too tired to talk to me? I don’t like who she’s become in your life, Samuel. I don’t like it at all.”

“I came up with this plan for us, for you in particular, and it’s not good enough? I expected that saving the orchard from financial ruin would make you happy, but that seems impossible.”

“You should’ve talked to me about it first.”

Samuel stared at the woman before him. “Okay, maybe I should have. If you feel this strongly about it, I guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t want Rhoda to be a part of our lives. Period.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “My plan is a solid one, and the King family needs her expertise. If she’ll accept my help, it’ll be good for all of us.”

She backed away from him. “What kind of help are you talking about giving her?”

“Time, energy, and money for starters.”

“Money from where?” She looked at him quizzically, and after a moment understanding registered on her face.

Samuel took her hand into his. “I know how this must sound. I really do.”

She pulled free. “No, I don’t think you do. I can’t stand by and allow this.”

Was she giving him an ultimatum? Something hard and immovable took up residence inside him. “I’ll do what I think is right. I’d hoped you’d see that and appreciate it, but I’m not altering the plans I’ve made.”

Her eyes filled with disbelief, and without another word she hurried toward the house.

When they’d last spent time apart, it seemed to do both of them some good. So he let her go.

Rhoda took the sole remaining jar of blackberry jam off the shelf and placed it in the box at her feet, the last of her garden’s produce, canned and ready to ship. She looked around her beloved cellar, now void of fresh fruit and delicious aromas. It had been four days since she’d found her garden destroyed.

As Tuesday wound to a close, her cookstove was lifeless. The fireplace was filled with cold ashes. The counters and shelves were empty. She couldn’t stand the look of the place, but going outside hurt worse. The barren space that once held her garden reminded her of a desert.

“Knock. Knock.”

She turned at the sound of Samuel’s voice. When she peered through the screen door, she saw him and Jacob standing at the entryway. She hadn’t heard them arrive or come down the steps.

“Kumm.” She closed the box of goods.

Samuel’s eyes moved about the desolate room. “We’ve brought you another proposition. One we think you’ll like.”

Jacob stepped forward. “At some point he’ll remember to say something personal before he begins talking business. Like maybe, ‘Hello, how are you?’ ” He bowed slightly.

“Hi, Jacob.” She returned his gesture with the slightest of curtseys. “I’m as well as can be expected. And you?”

“I’m much the same. Thank you.” Jacob turned to Samuel. “Take notes, man.”

Samuel studied her, his eyes serious and unhappy. “You don’t look so good.”

Jacob shook his head. “He’s like trying to train a cocker spaniel.”

Rhoda smiled, and it felt a bit odd. She hadn’t smiled in what felt like forever, but it’d been mere days since she’d had such a wonderful time at the King family gathering.

Right now she felt as empty as her room, and she needed something to do with her hands. She should invite them upstairs, but instead she leaned back against a counter. “You took time out of a workday to come here instead of calling? Why?”

“That’s what I said.” Samuel put his hands in his pockets, looking a little antsy. “But Jacob felt it was important to check on you in person.”

Her eyes met Jacob’s. “Ah.” The more she knew of Jacob, the more she liked him. And he seemed interested in her too. She pulled her attention back to Samuel. “So what’s your new proposition?”

“Before we talk about that, we need to tell you that it’s our fault Rueben knew you and your family would be gone last Friday night.”

“
Ours
or Eli’s?”

Samuel’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“When some of the shock wore off, it dawned on me. Eli meant no harm, and I take no offense. Ungodly meanness was in Rueben’s heart, and he’d have discovered a perfect opportunity to do what he wanted without anyone telling him when we’d all be gone.”

Samuel nodded. “Ya, well, here’s what we were thinking—”

Jacob removed his hat and smacked his brother with it. “We appreciate your attitude, Rhodes. And we have some ideas we’d like to present. If you don’t like them, we’ll understand. But we’re hoping you’ll at least consider them.”

Samuel crossed his arms, looking more relaxed by the minute. “May I share the plan now, Jacob?” Samuel’s teasing made her smile.

“Would you like to go upstairs and sit at the kitchen table?”

Samuel turned to Jacob. “If I say yes, is that too businesslike for you?”

“If
I
say yes, would you stay in the cellar while Rhodes and I go upstairs?”

Rhoda chuckled. Whatever they had in mind, she wanted to say yes. She needed to be a part of something bigger and stronger than she was on her own. Kings’ Orchard and the men who ran it fit the bill to perfection.

“Kumm.” Rhoda went up the stairs.

Her father and brothers were standing in what used to be her blackberry patch, talking to a couple of land surveyors about parceling up the property. Her family was wasting no time in getting the proper construction permits. Soon they’d know whether they could get building permits for one home or two. Before winter set in, at least one house would stand where her berry bushes
once grew, and children would play in the grass that would be planted in place of her garden.

Her mother stood on the driveway and turned toward Rhoda. “This will be best for everyone in the long run.”

“I know, Mamm. I know.”

Although her heart ached at the thought of making her last deliveries to customers, it hurt even more being here, staring at the cemetery where her lifelong dream had died.

She headed for the house, unable to remember a time when she didn’t have canning to do—not since she was a little girl, anyway. Now there was nothing left to can. Once the last box was delivered, Rhode Side Stands products would cease to exist.

She went inside, hearing her sisters-in-law and their children moving about upstairs. She looked over her shoulder at the brothers. “May I get you some lemonade or water?”

“Water. Denki,” Jacob said.

“I’m good, but thanks.” Samuel pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat.

Rhoda put ice and water in two glasses. She passed one to Jacob and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from the brothers. “So what’s on your mind, Samuel King?”

She listened as he shared their plans for the summer kitchen and how they wanted her to stay on their property anytime she had a mind to.

“We’ll hire Landon as a farmhand.”

“
You’ll
hire him? You don’t even like him.”

Samuel squinted. “I have vision problems.”

Rhoda raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“It seems I can’t see anything right the first few times I look at it. You won’t hold that against a man, will you?”

“Depends. Are you willing to trust what I say the object looks like?”

“Probably not every time. I mean, nobody’s right all the time.”

“I am.” Jacob plunked his hand against his chest.

Samuel rolled his eyes. “With the exception of my brother.”

Rhoda realized she did a lot of laughing when she was around these two. She took a sip of her drink. “Are you really thinking of hiring Landon full-time?”

“We’d like to talk to him about it and make an offer, but we’ll limit it to six months for now. Then we’ll reassess. He’s never done this type of work and may hate it. I know you find him valuable, but I’m not sure we will once the canning season is over. If he accepts, he’ll work wherever we need him most—with you or us. And he’ll be available to drive you back and forth between our place and your home whenever you want.”

She liked the sound of that. “He’ll be good at taking the products to different buyers and getting them on board to order from us. And he has a Rhode Side Stands website set up for orders as well. He’ll contact all those customers about the new apple line.”

“Excellent.” Samuel drummed his fingers on the table.

Rhoda played with a drop of condensation on her glass. “The summer kitchen is a building that sits off by itself, right?”

“Ya.” Jacob nodded. “I’ll start remodeling it soon and get it operational as quickly as possible.”

He ended his sentence there, but Rhoda heard his thoughts:
if I can make myself
. But why would a carpenter think that?

Jacob motioned. “When the remodeling is done, the kitchen will be bright and airy, unlike your cellar.”

“How big a space is it?”

“Eight times the size of your cellar.” Jacob smiled. “And laid out with canning in mind.”

“Really?” She glanced from one to the other. “I like how this is sounding.”

Samuel leaned back in his chair. “It’s nothing grand, and I don’t want this offer to sound like more than it is, Rhoda. It’s a practical space, and the size of it will enable you to can more goods.”

She frowned, looking to Jacob for backup. “Explain”—she waved her hand up and down, motioning at Samuel—“this.”

Jacob laughed. “Not sure we have that much time, but here goes. He’s offering full disclosure so you don’t enter the agreement thinking it’s one thing only to discover it’s another. He does that a lot, and once a person agrees to the raw, ugly view he gives, he feels he’s been extremely honest, so the deal, in his mind, is binding.”

“Ah.” Rhoda ran her fingers over the wooden tabletop. “Glad to finally understand that about him, and I appreciate his honesty.”

“As I was saying,”—Samuel straightened the front of his shirt collar—“there’s much to do and not much time to get organized, so we’ve been looking at ways to use the space in the summer kitchen for every possible contingency. One of which is if you wanted to sleep there, you could.”

“I accept.”

“You can’t say that yet.” Samuel frowned at her. “I haven’t finished explaining, and you haven’t seen the setup.”

She focused on Jacob. “I accept.”

Jacob raised his glass in the air. “I accept your acceptance.”

She touched her glass to his.

“Although the first of the apples will be ready soon,”—Samuel continued as though they hadn’t said a word—“the bulk of the crop won’t be ripe for five weeks yet, and then we’ll harvest from sunup to sundown until the end of October. Our aim is to have that kitchen operational in three weeks.”

“Sounds perfect. I have a lot to do to wrap up here and customers to contact, to let them know I can’t fill the orders and such.”

Samuel looked at her. “Have you called anyone yet?”

“No, and I know what you’re thinking. When I call to tell them about Rhode Side Stands not being able to fill the orders, I should let them know about the new line of apple products I’ll be making.”

“You’re quick.” Samuel grinned. “We’ve been brainstorming labeling ideas. And since you’re giving Kings’ Orchard your recipes and helping us through at
least one season to get us started, we wondered if you might like a label we came up with. Kings’ Orchard is well known for its apples, so we want to use that. We’ll keep our usual logo, the one stamped on the apple crates and such. It’s a silhouette of a horse and buggy under an apple tree with a full bushelbasket next to it. And we’d keep the name ‘Kings’ Orchard’ at the top. But for the labels on the canned goods, we thought we’d put ‘by Rhode Side Stands’ at the bottom.”

She knew his aim was to be generous, but he’d missed the mark. “You’d like to make me feel as if I still have my business. Is that right?”

“Ya. You haven’t lost it. It’s just facing a lot of changes.” Jacob smiled. “Like Samuel and his poor vision.”

“The problem is that the layout for the label is wrong. I don’t want to be listed at the bottom, as if my recipes and canning products aren’t worthy to share the top of the label with Kings’ Orchard.”

Samuel took a sideways glance at Jacob before responding to her. “I thought you’d consider it a generous offer.”

“You thought wrong. It isn’t all that surprising, is it?”

Jacob watched, like a calm spectator unwilling to get between the two of them, at least at this point.

Samuel’s jaws tightened. “I suppose it’s not surprising that you think I’m wrong.” He paused. “Well, go on.”