Seasons of Tomorrow (8 page)

Was there something more to this encounter with Esther than he was seeing?

SEVEN

Sunlight streamed through breaking clouds and glistened off the melting snow in the apple orchard. Leah’s homemade work sled jiggled and bounced her as the horse pulled the apparatus between another row of trees. The goal of this device, with its sack of feed for extra weight, was to tamp down vole tunnels.

If one had to work all day—and around here that’s about all they did—she figured riding on a sled was the best job currently on the roster. At least now, because of the amazing harvest they’d had last fall, she received good, steady pay for her efforts.

As she came to the end of the row, she made a large loop, turning to the left, and spotted Crist Schrock crossing the field on his horse. He logged about ten hours here a week. It wasn’t much compared to what they needed, but as a farmer tending his own land, he couldn’t give any more time to this side job.

Before last Sunday, when he saw Landon and her coming out of church together, Crist would grin and wave and go out of his way to speak to her. But he hadn’t shown much enthusiasm this week. What was bothering him more—her attending a non-Amish church or her wearing Englisch clothes with her hair down?

“Hi, Leah.” He slowed his horse to an amble, probably making sure that the animal didn’t kick snow in her face as he approached or, worse, that it didn’t step on the back of her sled and break it.

She had to smile. Despite being disappointed in her, he remained polite. But she was especially grateful he’d remained silent about seeing her, never mentioning it to her, Landon, or apparently anyone else. Since he hadn’t brought it up, neither would she. If they discussed it, an argument could erupt. Or worse, the news of it could travel throughout the Maine Amish and find its way to her Daed.

Orchard Bend Farms needed Landon far more than it needed her,
because his skills and expertise were deeply intertwined with the success of the King-Byler family business. She and Landon had to move forward with great caution and patience. If they didn’t, they’d disrupt the stability of this farm more than Jacob had when he left. Jacob worked hard when he was here, but he’d been absent a lot. Landon had been here six days a week, helping Samuel and Rhoda, and when he did go home, he worked on the business end of the orchard through an avenue no one else could: the Internet—buyer connections, website updates, and marketing the products.

He brought his horse to a complete stop mere feet from her.

“Crist, if you didn’t tower over me before, you certainly do on that horse with me sitting on this toboggan.” She’d never known a man quite as tall or broad shouldered as he was.

He looked around. “You by yourself today?”

She tugged on the horse’s reins, trying to keep it still. “Ya. Last I saw, Rhoda was in the third greenhouse, and Samuel was in the barn. You looking for someone in particular?”

He shifted in his saddle. “I just expected to see Landon nearby. Am I wrong to think that?”

She swallowed, wishing he didn’t sound so hopeful. Should she tell him that she intended to marry Landon? Probably not. She should simply avoid answering Crist’s question directly. “He’s not too far, I’m sure, but I haven’t seen him yet today.” While tugging on her gloves, she shifted the reins from one hand to the other. “I should get back to it.”

He nodded. “Me too. I told Rhoda I’d see if I could get the spreader working again. It’s gonna be a long spring of spreading mulch by hand if I can’t.”

“It’s still under the lean-to on the east side.”

“Okay, thanks.” He rode off, going in the opposite direction from her.

Leah jiggled the reins, and the horse soon topped the hill. When she saw Landon several rows down, perched on a ladder, she couldn’t help but smile. He was probably cutting scions for grafting. What was it about Landon that always made her heart rate go wild? She clicked her tongue, slapping the reins against the horse’s back. Soon she was heading straight for him.

He smiled the moment he spotted her. She came to a halt, and he stepped off the ladder. “Good morning.”

She smirked. “It is now. What happened that you weren’t around before I had to leave for the field?”

He grinned. “I was running late.”

“Uh-huh. Being lazy is more like it. Sleeping in. Meandering into the orchard when it suits you. Right?”

“That’s a mighty strong accusation from a woman who’s done nothing for two days but sit on a toboggan being pulled by a horse.” Landon scooped up a handful of snow and eased toward her. “I think you said you were lazy, right?” He held the snow threateningly above her.

“Wow, so you’ve recently become lazy
and
hard of hearing.” She slapped the reins and yelled for the horse to move before he got too close.

He stopped and shrugged, so Leah brought the rig to a halt. He tucked his hands behind him, meandering toward her while staring into the sky and whistling.

“You’re fooling no one. Put down the snow.” She tapped the reins against the horse, causing it to move away from Landon.

“What snow?” He moved his hands from behind his back. “This stuff?” He threw the ball he’d made and hit her directly above her coat collar.

“Landon!”

The two-way crackled. “Lunch in thirty.” Iva sounded chipper, and Leah imagined she was keeping Phoebe quite entertained.

Leah slowed the horse again. “That’s our cue to head for home. Come on.”

He looked leery of her offer to wait on him, but he headed for the toboggan anyway.

When he was almost there, she took off again. Then stopped. “Problem, Landon?”

“Problem, thy name is Leah King.”

She made a face. “Landon Olson, thy name is not Shakespeare.”

Landon walked up and stepped onto the back of the sled.

“Geh!” she hollered, tapping the reins against the horse’s back. Her command caused the horse to jolt forward, and Landon started to fall backward but somehow managed to land belly first on the sack of feed behind her.

He crawled to a sitting position and straddled the sack of feed. “Don’t you know you can’t keep a good man down?”

“I knew that. I just didn’t realize you were a good man.” She turned, her face inches from his.

He shook his head. “The older you become, Leah King, the meaner you get.”

“And yet you fight to ride on my toboggan anyway.”

He closed the space between them and reached his arms around each side of her. “Until the day I die,” he whispered.

What a rare moment of him being so honest and so close, even though thick coats separated them. Actually, if the coats weren’t between them, Landon wouldn’t be where he was. She knew that. But he was suddenly more willing to show affection.

He kissed her cheek, bringing added warmth to this cold spring day. “How’s your morning been?”

She angled her head so she could see him. “I know how it could be even better.” Surely he could see in her eyes what she meant.

He studied her, probably considering the worst-case scenario if he actually kissed her on the lips. How many people dated, albeit secretly, for well more than a year without kissing?

He cradled her face, and soon his lips found hers. It was the best kiss a woman could hope for. Even better than she’d imagined. And she’d done a lot of imagining.

A lot.

When he pulled away, he shook his head, a trace of sadness in his eyes. “I’m a fool to be this far gone over a girl who doesn’t know what she wants.”

But she did know, didn’t she? As much as she loved those she lived with, she became more certain every week that she couldn’t remain Amish. But she couldn’t leave, not for quite a while yet. Still, there had to be a way for her to extract herself from being Amish without causing Orchard Bend
Farms to lose Landon in the process. She simply had no clue yet how that could be done. Not only was it too much for them to talk about, but it was also too much to think about.

Leah covered his lips with her fingers. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

He nodded, studying her face.

Landon leaned in and kissed her again.

Sunlight streamed from heaven. Birds sang. Snow glistened. And she was in love with a man who was willing to wait for her.

What else could she possibly want?

Samuel dragged two orchard sprayers across the floor of the hayloft. For the third time this year, he slid containers of oil from their storage space. They needed a shed for storing equipment. What they had was half of a hayloft.

He didn’t mind. He’d been made keenly aware of what was and wasn’t important in life. And he’d been set free. Free to be in love with Rhoda. Free to love her more with each passing month. And what he’d come to accept since Jacob and Rhoda’s breakup was that Jacob had been set free too. Samuel continued to pray that Jacob would realize he was free. It would happen … eventually.

But until enough time had passed that they could marry, Samuel had to find a way to stop all the can’t-think, can’t-sleep love nonsense. Had to. Men were supposed to be strong, so why did he feel like an apple in the hands of a woman with a paring knife?

Maybe organizing this area would help clear his mind. He slid canisters of oil out of the way and began moving the mess of equipment they didn’t need right now.

Was that a car door he’d just heard? If so, Landon was probably leaving to run another errand or was getting back from one. How would they have managed here without a full-time driver?

“Samuel!” Rhoda’s excited voice came from below. “You won’t believe this!”

“Ya?” He set down the stuff in his hand and worked his way around the mess.

“Samuel?”

She must not have heard him respond. He went to the opening of the haymow and peered down. “I’m right here.”

“I have good news … I think. An intuition about finding Camilla’s granddaughter came to me.”

Her smile ignited fresh love, but he wasn’t sure if he should go down the ladder or just listen. Her rare bits of insights were as fragile as a child’s sense of safety.

“I was minding my own business, and,
wham
, the name of the town or city or street came to me, and it came without any odd voices of supposedly dead people.” She shuddered. “It’d help if the whole incident was clearer.” She motioned for him.

“This is great news.” He climbed down, and when his feet hit the floor, he turned.

She clutched his shoulders. “Ya, it is, isn’t it?” She shook him. “And it’s way past time!”

He laughed. “How can it be? You just now got it, didn’t you?” But Rhoda had begun receiving tidbits of info concerning Camilla’s granddaughter, Sophia, and the child’s mother, Jojo, during Rhoda’s first night in Maine. At the time Rhoda didn’t even know Bob and Camilla Cranford, their Englisch neighbors.

“But I only heard a little, like a whisper on the wind.” She pranced her fingers through the air. “I’m almost as confused as I am excited, which is where you come in. You have to help me sort through it.” She lowered her hands and began pacing.

He studied the freshly raked dirt under her shoes. Months ago he’d thought he noticed that when the rare insight pressed in, her footsteps, whether in snow or on the soft dirt of the barn floor, were deeper than usual, as if the insight physically weighed on her.

“When I heard a piece of a name of a place—road, town, something—I
saw piles and piles of office supplies strewed about as if they’d been hit by a storm. Why?”

She wasn’t actually asking him, not yet anyway. Her body language said she was thinking out loud, so he waited. A crackling sound caught his attention, and when he looked in that direction, he saw a shadow moving out of sight. Was someone outside the barn?

She stopped. “Where are you?”

“Right here.” He gestured at his body. “See?”

“You seem distracted.”

He doubted if that bit of insight was because of her gift. She’d grown to know him, his moods, his thoughts. “
Nee
, I’m focused.”

“You sure everything is okay?” Concern tightened her brows.

“Ya. Sorry to be distracted.”

She smiled. “Forgiven.” She took a breath and began pacing again. “George Knox or something like that. Do you know a place by that name?”