The Winnowing Season (7 page)

Samuel had also rigged a watering system by running numerous hoses from the barn spigot to the shed. She lifted the hose from its hook and watered the plants.

Samuel
could
be a lot of help if he’d just stick to what he knew best—plants, not people.

As Rhoda took care of the tender shoots, her heart grew ever heavier. She had let her anger fuel bold statements to Samuel, but she could no more back out of going than he could.

With the last plant watered, she put the nozzle on its nail and grabbed her dirty gardening gloves off a bench. She slid her damp hands into each one and picked up a trowel. Several of the plants were struggling. Could they survive in the moving van from here to Maine, or should she give up on them now?

The door opened, and Samuel stepped inside. Her shoulders tightened, and the ache set in again. She waited for him to say something, but he jammed his hands into his pockets and stared at the plants.

She plucked a half-withered plant from the soil, shook the dirt from its roots, and threw it toward him. He didn’t flinch as it whizzed past him and hit her target—the compost bin—a few inches away.

He shifted. “I know you don’t want to face an official meeting, but Glick needs to be held—”

She slammed the trowel onto the bench, stopping him cold. She kept her eyes on the bench, because if she looked at him, she might well be overcome with anger.

Her life was intertwined with Samuel’s like the roots of a cilantro plant, but did they strengthen each other, as cilantro did, or would he choke the life out of her before they were through?

She drew a deep breath. “What time is the meeting?”

“Seven.”

She uprooted another plant and winged it into the compost pile. The temptation to refuse to attend the meeting was strong, but it had been absurd of her to think she could back out of going to Maine, whether they’d shaken hands on it or not. “Fine.”

“You can prove Glick’s guilt and leave here tomorrow with your community’s respect.”

She suppressed a scoff and managed a nod. “Sure.” She knew better. Rueben had her exactly where he’d wanted her all along—having to face the church leaders.

Samuel moved to the nail in the wall that held a clipboard. “You really don’t think so?”

“No,” she managed to whisper. “I will have no one’s respect when tonight is over.” She turned her back to him. “And certainly not yours or Jacob’s.”

She had wanted to avoid the humiliation of it all for her family’s sake, especially her Daed. He’d spent a lifetime trying to help her navigate the storm-tossed waves of who she was. Rhoda had done her best to hide every forewarning—until the day Emma was killed.

“The district can paint me in any light they want. I don’t care, not for myself. But it breaks my heart to think of what tonight will do to my family and to my Daed most of all.” He was the one others held accountable for who Rhoda was. As the head of the family, he would have clumps of fresh shame thrown at him.

Samuel said nothing, and she turned to look at him. His eyes met hers for a brief moment before he looked at the clipboard and flipped through the information. “He’s like his daughter. Strong enough to stand up and do what’s right.”

Was Samuel right? Did she tend to see her Daed as the broken man he was after Emma died?

Samuel moved to a raised bed of mint herbs—peppermint, Kentucky Colonel, and apple mint—and plunged his fingers into the soil. Some were
doing well. Others would be tossed into the compost pile to become additives in the mulch they were creating to spread on the Maine apple orchard.

He rubbed his fingertips together, studying the soil. “Do you want me to begin loading them on the moving van?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.” That’s all she needed to tell him. He didn’t require an explanation that she wanted them to have the benefit of a few more hours under the lamps. He trusted her opinion about plants.

Did he have any idea what he’d done? She had
trusted
him. Even more sad than the injustice that would be doled out to her and her family tonight was knowing she could never turn to Samuel again—the man she had dared to confide in more than any other.

He brushed his hands together, scattering dark soil onto the packed dirt floor. “I know the timing of the meeting is horrible, and you’re angry, but someone has to stand up to Glick, and you’re strong enough to do it. If you don’t go tonight, your brother and his family won’t be able to leave tomorrow.”

“What?”

“That’s the biggest part of the message Daed was trying to get to me when he sent Jacob to find me.”

Her heart palpitated. “Whatever else is going on, the church leaders intend for me to be at this last-minute meeting.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Rhodes …” His gentle tone reminded her of the day she’d told him her secrets. He’d been kind and supportive. She’d never had that before, not from someone outside her family.

She removed her gloves. “Since we voted to buy that abandoned farm and apple orchard, you’ve been distant or difficult or both. You don’t listen to what I have to say except when it comes to horticulture.”

He returned his attention to the clipboard. “Let’s stay focused on the problem at hand. If I can find Eli in time, he’ll be there to tell about Rueben pumping him with questions to find out when you and your family would be gone.”

“I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He’s hanging out with his friends, using his last day of freedom somewhere.”

“On our final day here?”

“Since he’s not going to Maine, he thinks that his responsibilities concerning the farm will triple once we leave tomorrow. So he ducked out on helping us pack, but he plans on being home around eight tonight to say good-bye.” Samuel grimaced. “Unfortunately, that’s probably too late to help at the meeting. But I’m hoping to find him. If I can’t, I know Jacob’s calm reasoning will go a long way in clearing the air.”

She hated the idea of Jacob seeing what all would take place tonight. But Samuel was right. He’d be a good one to have there—calm, friendly, and able to help others see his points.

“That’s it? I tell you that you’ve put wedges between us at every turn, and you simply move on to a different subject?”

His brown eyes held an apology. “Our relationship isn’t the important one. I haven’t interfered with you and Jacob, so rather than looking at what I’ve caused between us, look at what you have with Jacob. I want that for you. And for him.” He squashed a large brown spider under his boot. “Trust me on that.”

“I wasn’t questioning
that
.” Clearly she’d struck a nerve, although an active volcano would freeze over before she could figure out why. “My point is that I need to know what’s happening between
us
. I deserve for you to dig deep and explain some tiny part of it.”

Could he see that he’d removed something she treasured—her ability to rely on him as a friend? Even though he’d divulged a secret to her church leaders, she longed to be able to trust him again. She wanted a sincere apology and a promise that he would never again break her confidence. Why was that so hard?

He removed his hat. “Tonight’s meeting is likely to ensure we’ll be up all night packing. You should try to eat a little something and rest a bit beforehand.
I’ll tell Landon he needs to drive us to the meeting, and I’ll meet you at his truck at six this evening.”

She’d hoped their argument would bring understanding and clear the air, but that apparently wasn’t going to happen. “What’s the plan if the church leaders take away my right to go to Maine?”

“They won’t. I’m sure of it.” He left, and the door banged against its frame.

She closed her eyes as fear seeped through her. Having Samuel at the meeting would be bad enough, but would Jacob ever look at her the same way after he saw her as her district did?

SIX

Leah’s heart defied her, pounding at the very sight of Michael. How could she still care a whit for him? She didn’t. Did she?

He stopped cold when he spotted her.

Her palms sweating and her knees quaking, she turned and went into the summer kitchen. Maybe her reaction had nothing to do with caring about him. He had used her. Humiliated her. Then gone on his happy way. That would be enough to make any girl react like she did. For the first time in weeks, her stomach ached again.

Michael stepped through the open door, his dark eyes studying her.

Don’t look at him!

“Hey, Leah?” Arlan came in behind Michael. “I have to go for a bit. I didn’t realize it was this late. But I’ll be back in about an hour or so.”

She forced her attention to Arlan. “Swing by the house and get something to eat first.”

“Ya, maybe I’ll do that.” He waved his thumb toward the moving van. “Landon’s going to reorganize the boxes. If you need anything, holler.”

“Denki.”

Arlan disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Leah grabbed a flat box and unfolded it, slipping the flaps in place so they intertwined.

Michael came closer. “I’ve never figured out how to do that. I always give up and use a bunch of tape to keep the bottom secure.”

She turned the box right side up and carried it to a shelf filled with plastic bowls. “What do you want, Michael?”

“After your last visit to my place, I thought you’d come back. But I hear you’re leaving Harvest Mills tomorrow.”

Had it taken him months to figure out she wasn’t coming back?

“If you wanted to talk to me, you knew where I was.”

She kept her back to him. It was easier that way. Why, oh, why had she not seen him for who he was before?

“Does your family know you’re pregnant?”

She wheeled around. “You’re kidding, right?” Her hands moved to her hips. “I told you that almost three months ago, and you show up
today
to ask questions?”

“Kumm on, Leah, don’t hassle me. I’m here now.”

She raised her hands, palms facing him, and did a little dance. “
Woohoo!
Michael’s here.” Rolling her eyes, she lowered her hands. “Not that it matters, because I’m so done with you there are no words to describe it, but I’m not pregnant.”

“You said—”

“I thought I was. I didn’t read the test right.” She pulled several items off the shelf and placed them in the box. “It really shouldn’t surprise you that I was wrong about it. I was wrong about everything else.” When she straightened, a little jolt shot through her at the disappointment in Michael’s eyes. “You should be relieved.”

He half nodded and half shrugged at the same time. “I am … I guess.”

“You
guess
?” What game was he playing now?

He sighed. “You know what it’s like to be raised Amish. By the time we’re sixteen, we see nothing in front of us but rules, confusion, and isolation from the world.”

“You’re almost five years past that now. Maybe you should find another excuse. And do not talk to me about feeling lonely and confused. You heaped both on me. And you used our age difference against me, didn’t you? Always several steps ahead of me as you lured me to be who and what you wanted.”

“I gave you exactly what you wanted—alcohol and love.”

“You gave me sex, not love. Surely even you are mature enough to know the difference.”

“I didn’t come here to be insulted by a—” He clamped his mouth shut.

She moved forward. “Finish your sentence. I dare you.” She knew he wouldn’t, not while on King property with her brothers within screaming distance.

He studied her, disbelief registering on his face. “You’ve changed.”

“And you haven’t.” Besides, she hadn’t changed all that much. She’d been calling things as she saw them since she could talk. The only difference concerning Michael was she no longer felt any favoritism toward him.

“You might be surprised.” He strode to the doorway. “I came here because I’m leaving the Amish. I’ve been working seventy to eighty hours a week for months, doing every job I could get—construction after the tornado, school janitor. You name it, I’ve done it. Now I’ve got the money. I thought you might be interested in going with me.”

As he eased toward the door, she realized he was threatening her—dangling freedom in front of her face and then letting her know he would walk out without giving it to her. He made her sick. How had she let herself be that easily manipulated?

“Go with you? What for? Because you need someone to cook and clean for you? Someone you can wipe your feet on when the mood strikes, then take to bed when you’re between Englisch girlfriends? You think I don’t know what’s going on inside your head? You’re scared of striking out on your own, so you come here thinking I’ll jump at the chance to be with you. And if I
were
pregnant, well, then you wouldn’t even have to fake being nice about the invitation, would you?”

His features darkened. “You chased after me like a dog begging for my attention, desperate to see the outside life, and I showed it to you. Now you hate me for it?” He shook his head. “Forget it, Leah. You aren’t worth taking along to wipe my feet on.” He walked out the door.

She ran onto the porch. “I’d rather live Amish forever than go anywhere with you!”

He raised his hands, gesturing his frustration as he walked away from her.

Landon hopped down from the back of the truck, looking at her and then Michael.

She crossed her arms. “Chased after him like a dog.” She almost spit out the words, but they had burned into her heart. She had come to understand months ago that was how she’d acted, but for him to say it so plain was tasteless.

If she had to lock herself in a cellar, she would never be that girl again.