The Winnowing Season by Cindy Woodsmall Page A

had cast a spell on those who came close? This man could twist anything to sound as he wanted it to. Tonight’s meeting wasn’t about what Rhoda had done. It was about what events could be made to look like. Samuel wanted to stand up and scream at Urie. He had to get out of here before he made the situation for Rhoda worse.
    People continued to whisper as Urie questioned her, so Samuel stood up and turned to Karl. “I can’t sit here any longer.”
    Karl propped his forearms on his legs, blocking Samuel from leaving the row. “You can, and you will.”
    Samuel motioned to the front, not caring that people around him were watching. “This is a disgrace!”
    “That it is.” Karl looked up. “Now sit and mind that temper.” He fidgeted with his hat. “Unless my daughter is more of a man than you are.”
    Samuel sat down.
    Karl faced forward, his face stricken. “It takes patience to cope with people’s reactions to Rhoda, and you will develop it, or you will be guilty of far more than tonight’s injustice.”
    Since the day he’d met Rhoda, Samuel had become aware of his need for patience. They saw nothing alike, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing her to partner with Kings’ Orchard, and he had refused to take no for an answer.She had taken patience then too, every aggravating step of the way. But the kind of patience Karl had just spoken of was foreign to Samuel. It had nothing to do with controlling one’s temper or tolerating opposing opinions or flaws. It was about resigning oneself to the fallout due to someone’s strengths, because the truth was, what was taking place tonight was because of Rhoda’s gifts, not her sin.
    Samuel studied the back of Rhoda—her willowy neck and neatly pinned hair under the translucent Kapp led to narrow, strong shoulders. Her strength and beauty beckoned him. Her knowledge of horticulture astounded him. But all of that didn’t explain what it was about her that had made him fall out of love with Catherine. Or maybe he hadn’t fallen out of love with her but instead had realized that what he felt for Catherine was not strong enough to call love. Not when compared to what he felt for Rhoda.
    God, please, free me .
    Karl intertwined his fingers. “It’s my understanding that my daughter is not the only one who takes patience.”
    That was true. His ways and views grated on Rhoda’s nerves even when he wasn’t trying to put distance between them. But unlike Rhoda, it wasn’t his abilities that took patience. It was his flaws.
    “So let me see if I have this right.” Urie’s critical tone grabbed Samuel’s attention. “The night your garden was vandalized, you decided to finish uprooting the plants and grade the property so you could give it to your family, who needed the land to build a home on, right?”
    “Ya.”
    “Then its demise ended up being good for your family, right? So why not thank God for the blessings and leave it alone?”
    “Again!” Samuel jumped up. “That is not the point. Her garden was uprooted, stolen from her. Just because she chose to give the land to her brothers rather than replant does not diminish the punishment due to someone who broke the law.”
    “You have no proof I did anything, Samuel King.” Rueben stood, his disrespectclear. “Since you wanted Rhoda to work for Kings’ Orchard, perhaps you were behind ruining her garden. Although, as I understand it, your father, Benjamin King, would just as soon you cut your losses now and end the partnership you’ve made with her.”
    Samuel’s Daed did too much talking on the Amish chat line—where dozens, and at times hundreds, of Amish people across the states were on the phone at the same time, some taking turns talking, others listening silently for hours. News from it spread like wildfires, and his Daed should know better than to share a negative opinion on the chat line.
    Urie motioned for Rueben to sit.
    Rhoda turned in her chair and faced Samuel, and her blue eyes