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Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

A Bee in Her Bonnet (23 page)

BOOK: A Bee in Her Bonnet
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Chapter Twenty
July was not a
gute
month to be a beekeeper. Some of Poppy's hair had escaped from the scarf around her head and stuck to the back of her neck. Sweat trickled down her back and she longed to scratch it, but there was little she could do about it except work faster. To protect herself from the bees, she wore the traditional veil, a long-sleeved zip-up sweatshirt, jeans, canvas gloves, and long socks. She felt as if she were swimming in a pot of boiling water.
Aunt B had given her permission to go without the sling this morning. She'd worn it three days longer than the doctor had recommended because Aunt B wanted to be sure it was healed. It felt wonderful-
gute
to have two hands again. She'd volunteered to check the hives. They wouldn't pull honey again for almost two months, but they inspected the hives every few weeks just to make sure they were healthy and the queen was still laying. Nobody liked the job in the middle of July.
Poppy used her hive tool to pry another frame from the super. Bees covered practically the entire brood chamber, but she could see uncapped chambers with larvae inside. The queen had been busy, and the mite population looked low. She inserted the frame back into the super, being careful not to smash several bees in the process. She always smashed a few. There were just too many not to kill some.
Rose handled the hives better than any of them. Maybe she was more patient. Aunt B said it was because Rose had a way with animals of all sizes. She loved them, and they responded to her.
Except for Billy Idol. The only person Billy Idol didn't despise was Luke Bontrager. But how that had happened, Poppy would never be able to understand. Poppy couldn't help but smile when she thought of Luke's dislike for cats and Billy Idol's insistence that Luke be his best friend. Last night, Billy Idol had sharpened his claws on the table leg and then climbed into Luke's lap while he ate ice cream. Billy Idol hissed and snarled at Luke the same as the rest of the family, but he didn't stray far from Luke's side, and whenever Luke sat, Billy Idol tracked him down.
They'd made honey-cinnamon ice cream again last night because it was Luke's favorite. He inhaled two bowls of it. He would have eaten a third bowl if there had been any left to eat. That boy was a bottomless pit.
Okay, she admitted it. She loved that Luke enjoyed her ice cream. Aunt B would caution her against feeding Luke ever again. Paul Glick would admonish her for her vanity. But for sure and certain, Luke would be allowed to eat at her table anytime he wanted.
Luke had eaten dinner at their house last night, and Aunt B hadn't made one complaint about him in her prayer, but only because Luke, Dan, and Josiah had been kind enough to paint their barn door on Friday night. Sort of. Poppy seriously questioned their color-matching skills. The first time they had painted the Honeybee Sisters' barn door, it had turned out a muted shade of pumpkin orange. This time the door was reddish pink, much the same color as Paul Glick's face when he got angry.
When the door had turned out orange, Aunt B suggested to Rose that maybe the paint had faded in the sun. Rose wouldn't have believed that excuse twice. So Dan told her he had painted the door in the middle of the night to surprise them, which was technically true. The color had definitely surprised them.
Poppy felt a little twinge of guilt for not telling Rose the truth. Poppy would have wanted the truth with no sugar coating. But was it bad to protect her sister from something sure to make her nightmares more vivid?
Poppy tended the hives that were close to the road in front of their farm. The mischief maker had tipped over one of the clover field hives in May and the one closest to the road nearly a month ago. She glanced past the two rows of trees that lined their property. She hadn't seen any suspicious cars down the road lately. But she was wary all the same. Had they driven a car last weekend when they spray-painted the barn? If they had, where had they parked it? Next time she should sneak into their car while they were sneaking onto her property and pull out some important engine part so they wouldn't be able to escape.
She'd catch the troublemakers and irritate Luke at the same time. What could be better than that?
Above the thick hum of the hives, Poppy heard what sounded like a high-pitched whine coming from the direction of the dirt road. She seemed to remember that the spray-painter's car had squeaky brakes.
She quickly stacked the honey supers back on top of the brood box and laid both her hive tool and smoker on the ground next to the hive. She clumsily took off her gloves and veil as she jogged toward their little bridge. Craning her neck to get a better view around the bend, she stuffed her gloves inside the veil, took off her sweat jacket, and laid them all on the bridge to retrieve later. She'd kick herself into next Sunday if she missed those boys again.
Once she stepped off the bridge and onto the dirt road, she paused long enough to listen for the car. She heard it, down the road to her right.
But it wasn't a car. Someone was crying for help.
Her heart flipped over like a pancake. Rose and Luke's little sisters were due home from the animal shelter soon. Were they in trouble? Was it Griff again? He was supposed to be at work. The three of them had left earlier this morning to avoid Griff altogether.
Poppy bolted in the direction of that sound. With her beekeeping jeans on, she could run much faster than when she wore a dress. When she turned the bend, her heart stopped and she couldn't get any air into her lungs. Right in the middle of the dirt road, Rose, Dorothy, and Joann were in some sort of struggle with a thick-necked boy a good head taller than Rose. He looked to weigh at least twice as much.
It took Poppy a moment to recognize Griff Simons. Rose had been right. He was a lot bigger than he used to be.
Griff had his burly arm wrapped around Rose's waist, and it looked as if he was trying to give her a kiss. Rose pushed against him with one hand while Joann screamed at the top of her lungs and tugged Rose's other arm in an attempt to pull her from Griff's grasp. Dorothy, who at thirteen years old couldn't have been more than four feet ten inches tall, pounded her fists on Griff's back while tears streamed down her face.
Poppy felt the anger burn in her throat. With nearly irrational rage and little forethought, she ran toward Rose. Plunging herself between Griff and her sister, she shoved Griff away with all her might. Griff didn't expect Poppy's attack, and she knocked him off balance just enough that he released his hold on Rose and stumbled a few steps backward. He didn't go far. Poppy had never shoved herself against someone so solid—except maybe Luke Bontrager.
Surprise popped like a pimple on Griff's face before he smiled a smug, hateful smile that stretched across his crooked teeth. Aunt B would have slapped braces on that boy before he could say another word. Griff didn't seem the least bit concerned or cowered by Poppy. “Go away, Poppy,” he growled, showing those very bad teeth.
“How dare you pick on three helpless Amish girls!”
Griff looked her up and down. He'd probably never seen her in jeans and a T-shirt before. “You leaving the Amish?”
“Leave my sister alone.”
“Poppy, it's okay,” Rose said, taking Poppy's elbow and whimpering softly right against her ear. Rose had never told such a big lie.
Dorothy and Joann had pulled back and stood a few feet away, holding on tight to each other. Joann's
kapp
lay in the dirt, and her hair fell over her shoulders in unruly tufts. Dorothy's sleeve was torn at the seam and two trails of tears made their way down her face.
Poppy extended her arm and gently nudged Rose farther behind her. “Rose, take Dorothy and Joann and get home.”
Rose took a step back and took Poppy's elbow with her. “Come with us, Poppy. Let's just go.”
Poppy hesitated and glanced at her sister. Much as she would have liked to teach Griff Simons a lesson, he'd grown a lot bigger since the last time she'd given him a black eye. Judging by the condition of his teeth, he probably ate nails for breakfast and washed them down with a swig of kerosene. No matter how furious she was that he had scared sweet, guileless Rose and Luke's little sisters, it was best to get the girls safely away. Whatever she did might put the girls in more danger than they already were. Maybe she'd pay him a visit later when Rose and Luke's sisters were safely at home.
Keeping her eyes trained on Griff, she took two steps back and hooked arms with Rose. “Okay, come on.”
Rose let out a shuddering breath.
“Denki.”
Griff scowled. “Don't look at me like that, like I'm nothing. You Amish girls are so stuck up.”
“Just stay away from us,” Poppy said. “Or you'll answer to me.”
When she turned away from him, he shot out his hand and yanked Poppy hard by the wrist. She winced as the pain traveled all the way to her shoulder, her good shoulder. Without thinking, she made a fist with her free hand—no longer hampered by a sling—whipped around, and brought it up hard against Griff's fleshy lips.
The impact moved from her hand up her arm like sharp lightning and made her dizzy with pain. She cried out involuntarily as the old injuries seemed to flare to life.
Griff released her arm, touched his fingers to his lips, and uttered several curse words. With something primal and brutal flashing in his eyes, he raised his hand and slapped Poppy hard upside the head before she could even think about moving out of the way.
Agony seared through her cheek as her head snapped back and stars danced at the back of her eyes. She tasted the salty blood in her mouth, and in her dazed condition the idea that she might lose a tooth floated in and out of her brain. Oh,
sis yuscht
! Please let her keep all her teeth.
She'd been slapped twice in two weeks. Jesus said to turn the other cheek. Was
Gotte
trying to tell her something?
She felt a tug at her elbow and realized Rose was pulling her away from Griff with a force and speed she hadn't thought Rose capable of. Joann grabbed her hand on the other side, and the two of them pulled Poppy down the road with Dorothy leading the way.
They walked as fast as Poppy could manage, though Griff didn't follow them. Maybe she'd scared him off. If her face hadn't felt like it would crack into a million pieces, she might have grimaced. She wasn't so vain as to think she'd intimidated Griff Simons, no matter how tough she thought herself.
More likely, Griff was too lazy or too out of shape to chase after them.
Or, maybe, just maybe, his lips ached a little, and he wanted to put some ice on them before they swelled up like a pair of bloated fish in a chum bucket.
They probably wouldn't swell that big.
But she could always hope.
“Keep going, Poppy,” Rose said. “We've got to get you home.”
“Are you all right?” she said, wincing at the pain that traveled up her face when she moved her lips. “Did he hurt you?”
“Luke said Griff wouldn't be home,” Dorothy sobbed.
“He tore my
kapp
off,” Joann said. “And he tried to kiss Rose, but he didn't hit us or anything.”
Rose nudged Poppy forward. “We're okay, Poppy, but we need to get home. Aunt Bitsy will know what to do.”
Poppy's shoulder ached and her hand was on fire, and she couldn't even blink without making her face hurt, but Rose and Luke's sisters hadn't been injured. That was all that mattered.
An invisible hand squeezed her lungs until she couldn't breathe. Except for Luke. He mattered very much.
And he would be furious.
He'd yell at her until she went deaf.
Chapter Twenty-One
The gas generator that powered Luke's air compressor and other tools hummed loudly outside the workshop window. It was a comforting sound, a sound that said Luke had furniture orders and work and a livelihood. He was glad for all three.
If he asked Poppy to marry him, he would be able to assure Bitsy that he could provide for a wife and family. He could even build them a house with his own two hands. He had a lot to offer a girl if she didn't mind being married to a grumpy, stubborn man who often opened his mouth without using his brain first.
Ach!
A girl like Poppy could have any boy in the community. Why would she ever pick someone like Luke Bontrager?
Dinah Eicher might still be available.
His heart felt like a stone in his chest. Now that he knew Poppy, he could never bring himself to settle for Dinah Eicher.
The door to the wood shop swung open and slammed against the wall behind it. Startled, Luke jumped to his feet and almost smacked his head against the shelf above him. Joann, with no
kapp
and hair running wild around her head, shot into the room and threw herself into Luke's arms. “Oh,
mein bruder
,” she said, before disintegrating into sobs.
Luke tightened his arms around his hysterical sister as blood raced through his veins. “What happened? Are you injured? Was there a buggy accident? Where's Dat?”
“Griff Simons attacked us.”
Luke lost the ability to breathe. “Attacked you? Where is Dorothy?” When Joann didn't answer immediately, he grabbed her shoulders and nudged her away from him. “Joann, look at me. What happened? Is anybody hurt?”
“We were coming home from the animal shelter, and he tried to kiss Rose Christner,” Joann said, barely able to get the words out between sobs. “Poppy shoved him away, and he hit her. Hard. He was supposed to be at work.”
Luke flinched. “He hit Poppy?”
“There's a big purple mark on her cheek, and Bitsy thinks she broke her hand.” Joann took in great gulps of air as her body shook violently. “She saved us.”
Luke pulled Joann close again. No doubt his heart pounded as violently as hers. “Where is she now? And what about Dorothy? Is Dorothy okay? And Rose?”
“We didn't know what to do, so we ran to Bitsy's house because Rose said she has a shotgun. Dorothy pounded on his back when he wouldn't let Rose go. Her sleeve tore, and she has a scratch on her leg and she can't stop crying. Rose's arm got scraped, and she's crying too, but not as bad as Dorothy. Poppy's cheek is swollen something wonderful.”
Luke took a few deep breaths to calm his raw anger. It didn't help. A boy who would strike a girl would surely answer to
Gotte
. “You said she broke her hand.”
“She wasn't even afraid. She only wanted to help us get away from him. He grabbed her, and then she punched him.” Joann shuddered. “He hit her back. But then we ran away.”
Rage and shock clamped around his throat like a noose, and Luke thought he might be sick. “Mamm and Dat went into town.”
Joann sniffled into his shirt. “I know.”
He smoothed his hand down her hair. “Can you run out to the cornfields and tell Matthew and Mark what happened? Tell them I've gone to the Christners'.”
The sobbing started up all over again. “I can't go out there alone.”
He pressed his lips against her forehead. “You made it all the way from the Christners' house by yourself.”
“The cat came with me.”
“The cat?”
Joann pointed to the open door. Billy Idol stood guard at the threshold looking as fierce and dangerous as a robber cloaked in black.
That stupid,
wunderbarr
cat.
“Take the cat with you to the fields. He'll protect you.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “He got you this far, didn't he?”
A faint smile played at Joann's lips.
“And stay with Matthew and Mark until Mamm and Dat get home. Okay?”
She nodded.
Luke grabbed his hat from the hook and shoved it onto his head. He scooped Billy Idol from the floor and handed him to Joann, who cradled him in her arms like she would a nice, fluffy kitty. Luke narrowed his eyes and got face-to-face with the ugly cat. “Billy Idol, take care of my sister. If anyone frightens her, you have my permission to scratch.”
Billy Idol hissed and bared his teeth, but Luke figured it was only to prove to Joann what a good protector he was. Joann took a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. “I'll go find Matthew. We'll be okay till you come home.”
“Okay.
Gute
girl.”
He watched Joann until she disappeared behind the house with Billy Idol clutched tightly in her arms. If Luke didn't hate that cat so much, he'd give it a hug.
The anxiety and anger nearly suffocated him. Joann was scared to be by herself, Dorothy was certainly traumatized, and Poppy had been assaulted. The girl he loved had been assaulted. And he hadn't been there.
The despair crumpled him like a thin piece of tissue paper. First his
mamm
and now Poppy. How could he ever hope to win her love? He couldn't even protect her when she needed him the most.
BOOK: A Bee in Her Bonnet
8.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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