Seasons of Tomorrow (35 page)

They crossed the lawn toward the hitching post. “What if they mention to Dora that I was here?”

“Then we deal with it, but they won’t. We have a code: no lying but no volunteering information about someone else’s life.” She held up her hand. “I know, you seem to have gotten caught in some version of that yourself, and that’s my fault. I absolutely, positively …”

Even though she’d already apologized, he expected her to finish her sentence with another one.

She raised one eyebrow. “… should not have let you near Ammon.”

“What?” He laughed.

“Did I mumble?”

He started toward her door to open it for her, and she shooed him away. “Much appreciated, but I’m not your date, so get.”

He did as requested and went to his side. As he worked to turn the horse and rig in the right direction, he looked forward to talking about the serious things and getting perspective. But he also hoped to find out things about her—like why she felt so strong about not marrying, why she began helping unwed expectant moms, how Esther Mae was these days, whether Esther lived in the Daadi Haus with the girls, and dozens of other questions.

“Go right.”

“Right it is.” He pulled onto the road, and another question popped into his mind. “How’s your knee these days?”

“Gut. A doctor injected steroids into it. If the pain returns, I’ll get another injection. But all tests indicate that there’s no permanent damage and that it simply needs time to heal. I appreciate the nudge to have it seen and the money to cover the cost.”

“Anytime. So how did you originally hurt your knee?”

“In the same accident where Esther Mae was injured.”

“Were you two in a buggy accident or something?”

“No, that would be you and me, remember?”

He’d never forget the awful feeling when he hit her with his horse. But would he have gotten to know her otherwise? “That will stick with me forever. So how did you hurt your knee?”

She straightened. “I was at Ammon and Esther’s home, on the stairs, and had paused while talking to Ammon. Esther Mae was at the top of the steps, carrying a riding horse for one of the children, when she tripped over a piece of loose carpeting and fell.”

“Wait.” Jacob needed a moment to absorb this. So Esther was in her brother’s house when her sister-in-law ran over her with a horse—a toy one but still a horse. He pulled off the road onto the empty parking area. “Could you get out now?”

“Why?”

“Safety precaution. For me. The way I figure it, it’s about time for you to get hit with another horse, and I’d rather not be sitting next to you when it happens.”

Her eyes reflected shock. Apparently she hadn’t thought of the connection. Then she broke into laughter.

When their laughter quieted, he felt refreshed and strong and whole again.

And for the first time in a long time, he knew what he had to do.

TWENTY-NINE

A loud thud ricocheted against Rhoda’s nerves, and the plates slipped from her hands and crashed onto the hardwood floor. A quick glance told her that her uncle had just dropped two benches. The poor man. Everyone was exhausted.

Trembling, she knelt inside her childhood home, separating broken plates from whole ones. At least a few had survived. As if Phoebe’s illness weren’t stressful enough, her family now had to deal with a wedding. If only there had been a better way for her and Samuel to marry, but Amish girls married in their parents’ home, and the parents provided two meals to the guests.

Warm hands covered hers, and she looked up. Samuel crouched near her, wearing newly made black pants and a well-ironed new white shirt. His silky blond hair shone like a halo that emphasized his dark brown eyes. “Hi.” He paused. She wasn’t surprised he’d seen her drop the plates. How many times had one of them been caught admiring the other from across the room or the yard today?

Her cheeks warmed. “Hi.”

He helped gather the broken pieces into a mound.

She and Samuel had left Maine three days ago, along with everyone else, and they’d needed every minute of those days to get ready for this small, simple wedding. He’d been tempted to stay at the farm to work an extra day or two, but at the last minute they decided against that. Good thing too. Otherwise, there might not
be
a wedding today. Getting an expedited marriage license had proved to be quite the task, and it’d taken both of them to accomplish it. Before they left Maine, they’d written and overnighted a letter asking for a waiver of the three-day wait for a license, explaining their reasons and need. Even so, they’d spent most of Tuesday at the courthouse getting their license. Yesterday the men had moved furniture out of the
house and replaced it with tables and benches while the women cleaned and prepared food.

Rhoda bit her lip. She must have been out of her mind to think she could pull off even the smallest of Amish weddings in three and a half days. Feeding a wedding feast to sixty-three guests on Thursday when they hadn’t arrived here until late Monday afternoon was nearly impossible.

Another plate slipped from her shaky hands and bounced against the floor.

Samuel grabbed it, stopping its whirling vibration. “It’s still whole.” He angled his head, catching her eye. “Just breathe, Rhoda.”

She swallowed and nodded. Would her wedding day be the final straw for her? She’d wanted it to be simple, but Samuel was the first inside his nuclear family to marry, and he was a King of Kings’ Orchard. They had to provide a wedding his family could accept—one with family, close friends, and a day of feasting and fellowship.

Iva brought a trash can, and they discarded the broken pieces. Samuel passed the stack of rescued plates to Rhoda’s Mamm and gave Rhoda a hand as she stood.

Leah arrived with a broom and dustpan in hand. “I’ll get it.”

Samuel tugged on Rhoda’s hand, and she followed him, snaking around tables and people to wherever he was leading her.

With Phoebe and Steven having to leave the home they all shared, she and Samuel had easily received permission from the church leaders to marry immediately. The wedding festivities and number in attendance would be similar to that of a widow’s or widower’s second marriage. Of course, with the circumstances as they were, Rhoda and Samuel’s wedding was painfully more somber.

Samuel paused at the foot of the stairway that led to Rhoda’s bedroom. He wrapped her hands in his, and her heart pounded. Regardless of all else, she wanted to be his for the rest of her life.

He’d arrived at the house this morning around seven, his family in tow. That was probably about four hours ago now. He’d barely said
hello
before
she was pulled in one direction and he in another. They’d managed to brush fingers before parting ways.

He gently squeezed her hands. “It’s hard to believe that the start of the best thing to ever happen to me will take place today.”

The twinkle in his eyes was undeniable. It was these moments that she’d cherish about today—the looks shared across the room, the deep rumble of his quiet voice as he spoke words meant only for her, the happiness of their love that squeezed past the grief and held on tight to hope.

She freed a hand and eased her fingers to his hair, pretending to straighten a few misplaced strands. How many times had she wanted to run her fingers through it? “And the amount of stress and labor?”

“Should such a remarkable event happen without effort?”

She lowered her hand to his crisp starched shirt, admiring everything about him. Where was the new black dress coat his Mamm had made for him? “I wish Phoebe were here.”

He kissed her cheek. “I know.” His love and assurance caused her to take the first full breath in hours. “Go on and change clothes.”

She glanced at the clock.
What?
“We should’ve started twenty minutes ago.”

“Almost everyone invited has been working to help us get ready, and, trust me, we all needed the extra time. The few
real
guests have been seated and are chatting.” His eyes bore into hers, and she knew he longed to kiss her, but parents and relatives were everywhere. “The ceremony will be the start of our life together. It doesn’t matter whether it begins precisely on time. Only that it begins.”

She loved this about him too. He tended to think in terms of the big picture and posterity, where she focused on to-do lists for the day or week. He saw beyond all that to what would be accomplished through their efforts. Together they could weather any storm and would bask in every ray of sunshine.

She straightened his shirt collar, picturing him walking her down the aisle. “I’ll meet you right here in twenty.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He winked.

She scurried up the steps and into her bedroom. Without wasting a moment, she slid into the teal-blue dress her Mamm had made Tuesday and then pinned her white organdy apron into place. She’d worn a white apron like this to the meetinghouse every church Sunday since she was a baby. But today would be her last time to wear a white apron … until she was buried in this same wedding apron. She hoped they would have many, many decades filled with love and children and grandchildren before she—or Phoebe—needed to wear the aprons they’d been married in.

With her hair in place and her new prayer Kapp on, she stood in front of the mirror. How had she, a misfit, been so blessed to have Samuel fall in love with her? Could she keep his love throughout the years?

Someone tapped on the door. “Rhodes,” Daed called.

“Kumm.”

He opened the door, a tender smile in place. “You look like a woman in love.”

She laughed. “More than I ever knew was possible.”

“Your Mamm and I are so happy for you.”

“Denki.”

“Samuel is a good fit.” He kissed her cheek. “He’ll be good for you, and you for him.”

“Ya. Like you and Mamm.”

But she and Samuel had made mistakes already. It was so hard to let go of how they’d hurt Jacob. And was she mishandling the situation between Landon and Leah? What should she think or feel about them? She shook her head. Those thoughts needed to wait for another time. Right now she needed to focus on the wedding.

“I should go. Your Mamm is probably waiting on me so we can take our place.”

“I’ll be down in just a minute.”

He left, and she straightened her prayer Kapp and tucked a few wisps of hair in place. Her heart overflowed with every good gift from God. Despite how many mistakes people made, He never stopped being generous. She
prayed for Phoebe, and with the hope of today flooding her, peace rushed in, washing away all anxiety.

She heard a car door shut and looked out the window—and couldn’t hold back a smile. There stood another gift for today.

Jacob
.

Samuel strode toward the paddock beside the barn. He thought the rhythm inside him seemed a little odd for someone Amish, but it was as if trumpets were resounding inside his chest. Night had fallen. Cicadas and crickets sang. The bonfire was fading, but it still crackled and popped.

He held out a carrot, wooing the final horse belonging to a guest. Once he had a grip on the halter, he went toward its buggy near the house. Rhoda stood in the doorway of her home, talking to an aunt and hugging a final good-bye. He’d never celebrated life in all its wonder as he had today.

The fact that Jacob had come, making today even better, was a good indication of how much his little brother was changing. He no longer seemed to run from the awkward and uncomfortable. Samuel passed the horse to Rhoda’s uncle, and they worked together to hitch it to the buggy.

Steven had returned to the hospital almost eight hours ago. He had stayed only through the ceremony and the meal. Arie and Isaac were spending the night with Phoebe’s parents. Samuel’s family, including Leah, had headed home about twenty minutes ago. Iva went with them. At the side of the house, Jacob filled two buckets with water. No doubt he was going to douse what was left of the bonfire. Samuel waved as Rhoda’s aunt and uncle left, but he didn’t see Rhoda.

Jacob came around the corner of the house. “My driver should’ve been here hours ago.”

“It’s meant to be.” Samuel clasped his shoulder. “Kumm.” He didn’t know where Jacob was going after this. Jacob had always been a private person, and from childhood Samuel had known that keeping their relationship healthy meant he didn’t ask many questions.