Free The Winnowing Season by Cindy Woodsmall

going,” he warned as he left the office.
    “Where are you going?”
    “I’ll be back before the train leaves the station tomorrow morning.” He went to the stall where his mare stood.
    Samuel went with him and grabbed the bridle off a peg.
    Jacob lifted the saddle and blanket straddling the half wall. “And for Pete’s sake, Samuel, be nice to Rhoda. She saved your life.” He put the wool and leather items on the horse’s back.
    Samuel slid the bridle onto the mare. “I know what she did.” No matter how much guilt pressed in on him, it couldn’t alter how he needed to interact with her.
    He recalled the day of the storm so clearly. Before the tornado hit, he’d been in the orchard, and she had called to him. If he hadn’t heard her and taken a step back to respond right at that moment, half of a tree would have fallen on his head and chest and most likely would have killed him. As it was, he’d been hit in the leg.
    Jacob frowned. “No, you only think you do. She didn’t just call to you at the right time. She sensed the tornado was coming. The sky was clearing, and I tried to tell her she was wrong. But she was desperate for me to trust her, and I did. She begged me to go to the house and get Daed and Mamm and the family to the cellar. And I did, less than a minute before the house was ripped apart.”
    Samuel stared at his brother. “What? Why haven’t I heard about this before?”
    “Because she asked me not to tell anyone.” He cinched the belly strap. “Now, be nice to her.”
    It was too late for that. In Samuel’s efforts to do nothing that would pull her attention from Jacob, he’d been testy and rude for the last month—since he’d realized he was in love with her. Could he find a way to be kind and yet not open his heart to her any more than it already was? He didn’t trust himself to be her friend again, to do anything that would make her smile or allow them to share a laugh. He had to keep his emotions reined in, but how?
    He would have to find a kinder way to keep his distance.
    Impossible.
    Samuel motioned. “You’d better go. I’m supposed to meet Rhoda at Landon’s truck in about five minutes.”
    Jacob pointed at him again. “I’m trusting you.”
    Samuel nodded. “I know.” And he did know. It was Jacob who was clueless. And Rhoda.
    Samuel headed for Landon’s truck. The Englischer was behind the wheel, and Rhoda was in the passenger’s seat.
    She rolled down the window. “Where’s Jacob?”
    Samuel opened the back door to the crew cab and climbed in. “Some unexpected business came up. He’ll be there if he can.”
    She turned, looking horrified at the news, but said nothing.
    Samuel made small talk with Landon as they drove the thirty miles to Morgansville. When he or Landon spoke to Rhoda, she answered in her usualtone. She seemed peaceful now. Did she sense that the meeting would turn out favorably, or had she simply resigned herself to coping with whatever happened?
    He had a strange knot in his stomach. Who wouldn’t with all this going on fewer than ten hours before they were to leave?
    When Landon stopped in front of an unfamiliar home, Rhoda got out.
    Samuel did too. “You’ll wait, right?” He peered into the truck at Landon.
    “Sure, if that’s what you want. Why?”
    “We may need you to tell about Rueben harassing Rhoda for years before he destroyed her garden.”
    “I’ll hang here for a bit and give you some time to see if they’ll let me do that, but I can tell you now, they won’t.”
    “Thanks.” Samuel followed Rhoda and then waited a few steps back as she knocked on the door. When someone answered, he went inside after her. More than thirty men waited inside, with maybe fifteen or so women, some younger than Rhoda. The air buzzed with the sound of soft chatter, but the murmuring became whispers as people stared at her and shook their heads.
    If he wasn’t witnessing it with his own eyes, he would never believe good Amish folk would