Seasons of Tomorrow (21 page)

“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?”

“Sure.” Jacob set the wooden crate on the ground and leaned against the wagon.

Ammon shifted from one foot to the other. “I … I shouldn’t have spoken to Essie the way I did when you were at the house. She said I embarrassed her. It took me a while to see what she was saying, but she’s right. I’d be humiliated if anyone treated me like that.”

“It was disturbing to witness.”

His brows narrowed. “That bad?”

“Every bit and worse.”

“I feel so much pressure concerning … stuff going on in my life. I’m sure a single man can’t imagine. Did Essie ever tell you the situation?”

“She mentioned you were under stress but nothing else.”

Ammon removed his hat and scratched his head. “Anyway, the bottom line is, I should’ve been much calmer that day and certainly nicer to her, whether you were there or not. Even when I’m at my best, and that’s been a while, she deserves better than I can give.”

This was a welcome side to Ammon, and the relief Jacob felt for Esther surprised him. “You want to talk about what has you under such pressure?”

“It’d be nice, but I can’t, not if Essie hasn’t talked about the situation.”

“Not a problem. I forgive your outburst, Ammon.”

“Gut.” He scratched his beard. “She said you’ve been traveling since you were a teen.”

“At times. I settled down for a while, but it didn’t work out too well.”

“So you’ve seen and heard things people like me never will.”

“Maybe. What’s on your mind?”

“My troubles.”

Jacob chuckled. “Of course. That’s nearly all we think about when they’re screaming at us. Ya?”

Ammon nodded, and his smile erased some of his usual solemnness. “Do you think God controls every bit of our lives?”

“It’s what we’ve been taught, but I wonder about it sometimes.”

“Me too. I want to believe it. But if it’s true, doesn’t that take the responsibility for our actions right off our shoulders and put it on God’s?”

“That’s a good question, and I’ve asked it a time or two myself.” Jacob would like to know what Esther thought about that. “What does your wife say?”

“She believes everything is His perfect plan.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem to line up with her fighting so hard for young people to make the right decisions, does it?”

“Oh, you meant Ess …” Ammon stopped cold. Was that guilt on his face?

Jacob motioned. “Go on.”

Ammon shook his head. “I was up with the baby half the night, and it’s all”—he pointed at his head—“fuzzy and confused in there today.”

Jacob wasn’t good at sizing up situations because all too often he took what people said at face value. The trouble was that some people lied, a lot. Hadn’t he had some of these same troubling thoughts when talking to Bailey only minutes ago? He doubted that either man would tell outright lies. Still, it seemed both were hiding something.