Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(95)

“It will.”

“Good.” I stretched out a little, crossing my legs at the ankles and my arms over my chest, tilting my face toward the sun. “Okay, start.”

“The story starts one hundred years ago with a brave and determined young Russian named Jacob Feldmann. He’d grown up on his family’s farm, but times were tough. Facing widespread poverty, religious persecution, and starvation, he decided to take his chances in a faraway land—America.”

I smiled at his dramatic delivery. “Go on.”

“Like so many of his countryman, Jacob sets out on foot, bound for a port city in the east so he can sail across the ocean and make a better life for himself. And tucked inside one of his pockets is the key to his version of the American dream.”

“Magic beans?” I guessed.

“Something better. Magic seeds.”

“What kind of seeds?”

“Rye,” Oliver said emphatically. “But not just any rye—this was an unknown variety that had only been grown on his family’s land in Russia for generations. It had a big, earthy flavor that brought bread—and whiskey—to life. ”

I sat up a little taller in my seat.

“Now, he only has a handful of seeds—less than a handful, actually—but Jacob is confident. He makes his way west from New York City to Michigan and plants it. He chooses the state because he believes the climate and soil are similar to Russia’s.”

“Fucking cold nine months of the year?”

Oliver pointed at me. “Right. And it works—Jacob’s rye spreads beautifully to nearly a million acres. People start growing it in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and as promised, it makes a delicious, flavorful whiskey. Jacob prospers.”

“I feel like something is about to go wrong.”

He tapped my nose. “Bingo. Two things go wrong, actually. First, it turns out that Jacob Feldmann’s Russian rye is a finicky little princess. It can’t stand mixing. The moment foreign pollen is introduced, the rye starts to lose all its distinctive flavor characteristics.”

I gasped. “No.”

“Within ten years, only five percent of the crop was fit for sale. But Jacob didn’t give up—he knew all he needed was to find a place where it would be possible to grow only pure Feldmann rye without any intruders. But while he’s searching for the right spot, the Eighteenth Amendment passes, and the whiskey industry dies.”

“Damn you, Prohibition.” I shook my fist.

“This means lower demand, and lower demand means farmers need to find other crops to grow. Rye falls out of favor. Jacob can’t find anyone in a suitably isolated environment willing to take a chance on growing his seed.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere,” I snicker.

Oliver nudged my leg with his. “Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sawyer.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Now right about this time, something fortuitous happens.”

“What?”

“Jacob …” Oliver paused dramatically. “Falls in love.”

“Oooooh!” I clapped my hands and wiggled in my seat. “Who is she?”

“Her name is Rebecca Hofstadt, and she’s the daughter of a South Manitou island woodsman, a German immigrant named George. She grew up on the island, but left after the eighth grade so she could attend high school on the mainland. Later, she becomes a schoolteacher and returns to the island to take charge of the one-room schoolhouse there.”

“Interesting,” I said. “So how do they meet?”

“One summer afternoon, Jacob sees Rebecca walking along the Fishtown docks in Leland. She came often during the warmer months to stock up on supplies you couldn’t get on the island during the winter when the boats aren’t running. Well, the story goes Jacob takes one look at the beautiful Rebecca and falls to his knees in the street. He’s never seen such a heavenly creature in all his life. As he watches her make her way along the boards, he hears the voice of God in his head saying, Marry that girl, Jacob Feldmann. She is your destiny.”

“So does he propose right there on the docks?”

“Of course he did. He’d just heard the voice of God. Wouldn’t you?”

I laughed. “What did she say?”

“She said no, of course, but in the ensuing conversation, he did learn her name and where she lived. Now he’s even more ecstatic because he’s at the Fishtown docks that very day waiting for a boat to ferry him over to South Manitou Island, which is a self-contained, self-sustaining agricultural society. He thinks his rye would have a chance to grow purely there. All he needs is a farmer to try it, and he finds one.”

“Let me guess—Rebecca’s dear old dad.”

“Exactly. Undeterred by her refusal of his offer of marriage, Jacob asks permission to accompany her back to the island and meet her father. She agrees.”

Looking out over the water toward the island, I imagine Jacob and Rebecca on a ferry much like this one, heading for their future together. “So how does he convince George to grow the rye?”

“Well, George wasn’t really a farmer. He’d been a sailor, which was how he wound up on South Manitou—steamer ships used to put in there to fuel up with wood for their boilers. Back in those days, the Manitou Passage was a critical spot in the journey for ships traveling on the Great Lakes. South Manitou had an important lifesaving station and lighthouse to help prevent the shipwrecks that were all too common in those days due to high traffic, unpredictable weather, and the underwater landscape.”