Seasons of Tomorrow (10 page)

Within ten minutes he spotted Dora’s house and pulled onto her driveway.

Dora turned to him. “How can you tell when someone really cares about you?”

That was a good question. Jacob got out of the rig, went around the carriage, and opened her door. “I don’t know, but it seems like one way is to stop wanting the person to love you so much that you make yourself believe things that aren’t true.”

That’s what he’d done with Rhoda. He wanted to marry her so much that, despite the insecurity and jealousy that tormented him where Samuel was concerned, Jacob often saw in her what he wanted to—love for only him. How
did
people tell if someone they loved really loved them back?

Dora stared at the ground. He bent his knees, lowering his body so he could catch her eye. “Remember what I told you. Just because you feel shy at the singings doesn’t mean you should act that way. Be a little bold.”

In a blur of moments, she slung her arms around his neck and kissed
him on the lips. Jacob took a step back, and she released him, looking pleased and maybe terrified he’d be angry. He laughed. “Well, Dora Beachy, I guess I got what I asked for when it comes to boldness, huh?”

She grinned. “And it paid off.” She ran her fingers over her lips. “When you’re over the former girlfriend, come back. I’ll be waiting.”

“Dora, no. Don’t wait.”

Without responding she turned and hurried up the few stairs of the front stoop. Pausing, she turned back. “I meant what I said. I’ll wait.” She hurried inside and closed the door.

Jacob returned to his rig, fairly baffled. The girl was an immature mess, and her emotions were all over the place, but she was sweet with a good heart. Hopefully time would take care of the rest.

As he started to pull onto the main road, he decided to turn left so he could swing past Esther’s place. If she was still outside, he would stop for a minute. Should he simply offer to donate money toward the home? That felt wrong, although he didn’t know why. Maybe because she hadn’t told him about the place for unwed moms. But his gut said aiming to work out a business deal would be best.

When Esther’s place came into sight, he saw her and Ammon and four boys. Four? He thought she had two. The eldest appeared to be around five or six. Esther and Ammon were looking at some old doors propped against the side of a shed near a garden. Ammon scowled as he inspected them.

Jacob pulled onto the shoulder of the road, just past the mailbox that had the street number and the names: Ammon and Esther Beachy. Before now, he hadn’t thought of what her last name might be. But this meant Esther’s maiden name had been Beachy, and then she married a Beachy. With less than a dozen Amish surnames in these parts, he’d met a few men who’d married women with the same last name as them. The man Jacob lived with had said that over the decades three different families of Beachys had joined one of the two districts in these parts, and none of them were related. He could see that happening in Maine too. At some point a family of Kings or Bylers might move to the area and be completely unrelated to the founding members.

Esther, with a little one in her arms, looked in his direction, a welcoming smile greeting him before she waved.

She spoke to Ammon, and he glanced up, looking quite solemn. Unless Jacob was mistaken, Esther was nudging him toward Jacob.

Ammon slowly headed his way. Jacob covered far more ground than Ammon.

“Jacob.” Ammon reached out, and they shook hands. “It’s good to see you again. I appreciate that you stayed with Essie and helped gather up her goodies and such until I arrived.” Despite the man’s words Ammon didn’t look grateful about much of anything.

“It was the least I could do. I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by.”

“Not at all.” Ammon shook his head.

Esther shifted the baby from one hip to the other. “I’m surprised you’re in our poor neck of the woods. On a nice day like today, I would’ve pegged you to be working on those fancy houses.”

“I was, and I will again, but I needed to talk to Dora.”

Ammon gave Esther a quizzical look. She moved forward. “Jacob met her at a singing, and they’ve gone out a few times.”

Ammon nodded, not looking the least bit interested. He unfolded what looked like a picture from a magazine.

Esther smiled. “I’m sure she was pleased to see you.”

Jacob shrugged. But it made little sense to keep the conversation between him and Dora private. She was bound to tell Esther every detail the next time they were together. When Dora explained about the kiss, would she make him out to be the one who pursued it? It didn’t matter. If that’s what Dora needed to think, then let her.

Ammon turned the image one way and then the other. “Tell me again what you’re wanting me to help you do?” A phone rang, and Ammon jolted. Clearly
that
interested him. “Essie, I
have
to catch this.”

“I know that.
Geh
.” She shooed him away.

He held the picture toward Jacob. “If you have time, would you help her figure that out? I’m a farmer”—he sighed, tossing a slight smile Esther’s way—“not a room designer.”

Jacob clutched the paper, and Ammon ran for the phone.

The little one on Esther’s hip opened and closed his fist. She kissed his cheek. “
Mach’s gut
, Daed.” She spoke for the little boy, waving bye to Ammon with his hand. She shifted the boy on her hip. “You don’t have to help me. Ammon shouldn’t have asked it, and I can figure it out on my own.” She gazed into the little one’s eyes and smiled. “Isn’t that right?”

“I’ve got a little time.”

She looked up, her brown eyes reflecting peace. The little boy he’d first seen at the construction site ran to her and tugged on her dress.
“Mammzu, Ich bin hungerich!”

His words were a little hard to understand, but Jacob definitely caught “Mamm” and that he was hungry.

Essie rested her hand on his head, telling him that he hadn’t eaten his dinner she’d cooked but that if he’d play while she spoke to Jacob for a bit, she’d see to it that his Daed let her warm up that meal for him a little later.

The boy wrapped his arms around her.
“Ich lieb du.”

She tousled his hair and said she loved him too, and then he ran off. Chuckling, she looked at Jacob. “Where were we?”

He studied the picture. It showed six shutters connected through hinges in such a way they folded up like an accordion. “This is ambitious.”

“But the real question is, can it be done with the shutters I have?”

He went into the shed. It was filled with old doors and shutters and windows. “More treasures?”

“Ya. If all goes well, we’ll have everything ready for the annual City of Chelsea Fire Sale three Saturdays from today.”

“Do you still have the pine flooring?”

“Ya, but not here. It’s at the warehouse.” She shifted the sleepy baby onto her shoulder. “I’ll cut up the planks and use them to make tabletops and picture frames.”

“Are they still whole?”

“Ya. Why?”

“I’d like to talk to the owners of the houses I’m working on about using it. Could you give me a week before cutting them?” Easing farther into the
building, he noticed she had quite a collection of old pieces of junk. He inspected the shutters for dry rot and uniformity.

“Your idea is very kind, but I promise there’s no need for favoritism just because you’re seeing my sister while you’re in the area.”

He stood two shutters upright. “It’s not favoritism. I … would like to do something that would go toward the home you give those girls.”

She put her knit neck scarf over the face of the now-sleeping baby. “Dora mentioned the pregnant girls to you? She’s mortified by their presence and my connection to them.”

“You’re right about that, but we passed by here, and I saw you and a couple of young women outside, so I asked questions.” Some of the slats in the shutters looked loose, so he jiggled them. They were sound. “With the right tools and hardware, these
can
be connected like the one in the picture. But I don’t know what your skills are, so I can’t say whether you can do it or not. The shutters aren’t completely symmetrical, so that’ll cause a bit of trouble.”

“Do you know exactly how I would add the hardware so the shutters would fold like they’re supposed to?”

“Sure.” He stood two shutters side by side. “The first step would be to stand the pair that will share a hinge, and—”

“Essie!” Ammon bellowed as he charged out of the phone shanty.

“Right here where you left me.” Her voice was a gentle melody.

“We’ve been doing it all wrong. Can you believe it?” He grabbed the little boy who was hungry and hurried toward the house, yelling for the other two children. Ammon motioned at her. “You too. Kumm.”

She looked longingly at the shutters. “I guess that’s all the work I’ll get to do.”

A stab of disappointment for her went through Jacob. He put the shutters back and passed her the page from the magazine. “Maybe we could talk about it another day.”

“Essie!” Ammon turned and hurried back toward her, scowling as if coming after a disobedient child.

“I’m sorry, Jacob.” Esther’s cheeks turned pink. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. He’s under a lot of stress as he tries to take care of his family.”

“No need to apologize to me. Go help your husband.”

Her gentle brown eyes intensified as if she hadn’t understood his words. She shook her head. “My—”

Ammon had put the two- or three-year-old on the porch, and then the man all but ran to Esther. “I forgot about your knee.” Ammon cupped his hand under her elbow. “Now will you walk already?”

Esther blinked, pulling her attention from Jacob. “Ya.”

Ammon clicked his tongue, hurrying her along. “If you’d stayed home the other night like I said, you wouldn’t be injured.”

Jacob watched as Ammon helped her hobble up the stairs to the house. The man seemed to be whispering harshly the whole way. The children were already inside when Esther and Ammon disappeared into the home. Once they were inside, he heard Ammon yelling. A door slammed, and the baby started crying.

What had he just witnessed? He started to walk toward the rig, but as Ammon’s outburst kept ringing from inside the house, Jacob couldn’t budge. Disheartened for Esther, Jacob shook his head.

It’s none of my business
.

He sighed. He could barely understand his own actions and reactions to life. But how had she let herself marry someone who seemed like such a bad fit for her?

Look away, Jacob
.

But he just stood there. Finally he broke his gaze from the home and strode toward his carriage.

Was any romantic relationship worth it? If someone with Esther’s spunk and love for life had known that Ammon was going to treat her like that, would she have married him? Apparently few people ever really knew the person they were dating.

Was he destined to be lonely forever?

NINE

Standing in her bedroom facing her Daed, Leah felt like a defiant toddler—all tantrums and no actual power. “Daed, I won’t go.” He’d been here twenty-four hours, and whether she tried to be respectful or was defiant, he wouldn’t accept her answer of no.

He pointed at her. “I’m still your father.”

“That doesn’t mean you own me.”

“This attitude comes from Landon, doesn’t it? No Amish would support such rebellion. I forbid you—”

“I’m nineteen! You can’t
forbid
me to do anything!”

His face was so red he looked like an overwatered tomato ready to split. “Is that what you’ll do, Leah? Stand on man’s law that says you’re free of your father’s will at eighteen instead of standing on God’s?”

“Maybe … because I’ve done nothing wrong, and I’m not leaving here!”

“Leah King, think. The only way this district survived the legal troubles that Rhoda faced is because the Amish in Pennsylvania supported it. If you think Orchard Bend Amish is a self-governing district, free from the opinions and guidance of the Pennsylvania Amish, you’re as blind about that as you are about what your future will be like out in the world!”

“I’m not going to the world. I attend church, and I’m in love with Landon.”

Her father didn’t blink or twitch or breathe, and then Leah realized she’d confessed her Daed’s worst nightmare: she was involved with an Englisch man
and
his church. Daed probably could’ve coped more easily if she’d been drinking or was pregnant. At least in those situations he would have had solid footing to lead her to repent.

“Where’s your suitcase?”

“Daed, no!”

He went to the closet, dragged it out, and tossed it onto the bed. “Pack,
or I’ll do it for you.” He waited. When she didn’t move, he jerked dresses and aprons off hangers and threw them into the suitcase. “We’re leaving. You can tell Landon good-bye, and after that you’re not to see him again.”

He opened a drawer. Leah hurried across the room and slammed the drawer shut, knocking a kerosene lantern from the dresser. It shattered on the wood floor, the liquid spattering against the wall and bedspread and running until it hit the area rug.