A Bee in Her Bonnet (9 page)

Aunt B held out her hands for Rose and Lily. Rose in turn wrapped her fingers around Poppy's hand, and Poppy reluctantly reached out her bruised hand to Luke. She tried to act as if she absolutely did not care that she had to make contact with him. Dan was the fortunate one. He simply took hold of the dish towel wrapped around Luke's finger.

Luke took her bruised hand as if he were reaching for one of his tools—without a fuss and without emotion. Holding hands with a girl obviously didn't unnerve him one little bit. He probably did it all the time.

“Is this okay?” he said, giving her hand a light squeeze. “You still look pretty sore.”

Poppy felt the heat creep up her neck for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Her bruise ached, but her hand didn't particularly hurt when Luke took it. It felt rather more like a tingling sensation that trickled up her arm. “I'm fine,” she said without meeting his eye. She didn't want him to suspect that his touch was comfortable and unnerving at the same time. He wouldn't see a moment of weakness from Poppy Christner.

Aunt Bitsy didn't waste time or mince words. She often started her prayer before anyone was ready. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she said. Everyone quickly bowed their heads and closed their eyes. “We are grateful to be all together—not so grateful that Luke came by, but he did build us a new chicken coop and we owe him dinner. Since he is here, we ask that You strike him with a good dose of humility and give him more sense than to cut his finger again.”

Poppy felt a little tug on her hand from Luke's side. Did Aunt B's plain way of speaking offend him? He hadn't seemed to crave Aunt B's approval before. Why would he start now?

“Lord, will You please forgive the person who chopped down our coop and give him a severe case of poison ivy to remind him of his wickedness?” Aunt B paused. She often reconsidered halfway through her prayers. “If the poison ivy is too much, could You at least send a few mosquitoes to plague him? If it was good enough for Pharoah, it is good enough for him. Please also bless me to think up a plot for my vampire romance. I need to pay for this wedding. Amen.”

Poppy didn't even raise her head. As expected, Aunt B grunted in frustration and raised her voice to heaven once again. “And please bless this food to our use. Amen.” She always forgot to bless the food the first time.

Poppy opened her eyes long enough to steal a glance at Luke. Most of the men in the district, including those as young as Luke, would have seriously disapproved of Aunt Bitsy talking to
Gotte
out loud, and any number of them would have given her a stern lecture on the spot. Luke, on the other hand, wore an unremarkable expression, as if Aunt B hadn't just said a very un-Amish prayer and censured him right in front of
Gotte
and everybody at the dinner table.

“Now you can all say your own prayer,” Bitsy said.

Poppy again bowed her head. The silent prayer was how Aunt Bitsy ensured that her nieces learned how to be proper Amish girls. It had been their
mater
's dying wish. Poppy closed her prayer and looked up.

Rose frowned, and her eyes were scrunched and soft like they always got when something troubled her. She wore that look more and more often these days. “Aunt Bitsy,” Rose said. “Poison ivy can be very serious. People have ended up in the hospital.”

The lines around Aunt B's mouth softened. “Oh, Rosie.
Gotte
will give that boy, whoever he is, just what he deserves in His own due time. I don't really have any say in it.”

“Maybe he's had a hard life,” Rose said. “Maybe chopping down chicken coops and scaring our chickens is the only way he can find happiness.”

Fire leaped into Luke's eyes. “A man finds happiness in behaving like a man, not in hurting other people and their chickens.” He glanced at Rose and cleared his throat. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound harsh. You have a
gute
heart.”

A light pink tinted Rose's cheeks. “I hope you found happiness in building the chicken coop.”

Luke nodded and took the meat loaf plate from Poppy. “I like working with my hands.”

“You have done us a very good deed, and we think you are
wunderbarr
,” Rose said.

Dan chuckled. “Be careful, Rose, or you'll undo Bitsy's prayer. How is Luke ever going to learn humility if you call him
wunderbarr
?”

Luke leaned back and grinned. “Bitsy thinks I'm proud because she doesn't know me well.” He inclined his head in Aunt Bitsy's direction. “I forgive you.”

Aunt B always wore an I'm-barely-putting-up-with-you expression for Luke. “
Denki
from the bottom of my heart.”

Lily giggled. Poppy hid a smirk behind her hand. Luke had not the least desire to impress Aunt B, and B had not the least desire to befriend Luke. It was almost fun to watch them bait each other.

Luke pretended that Aunt B was sincere and showed off his nice white teeth when he smiled. “You're welcome.”

Dan helped himself to a piece of Poppy's nut brown bread. “You can't use that excuse on me. I know you better than just about anybody. You're arrogant, grumpy, and you've been hit one too many times in the face with a hammer.”

Luke laughed and scooped a mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “You're just jealous because I'm handsomer and smarter than you.”

“There's no one handsomer than Dan,” Lily said, looking at Dan as if he were a cupcake with sprinkles on top. Poppy's insides felt all soft and mushy. Would she ever love someone the way Lily loved Dan?

Not likely. There weren't many boys she could tolerate, let alone one she could love. Most of them were like Luke Bontrager, proud and oh so superior. She hadn't trusted a boy since she was seven, when a boy's vindictive lie had gotten her a whipping from Dawdi Sol.

Luke had said she'd never get a husband because she was stubborn. Dawdi used to tell her she'd never marry because she refused to act like a girl. She flinched. She could still feel the sting of Dawdi's hickory switch.

Luke paused between hearty bites of potato and looked at Poppy. “You okay?”

She immediately straightened and skewered a piece of watermelon with her fork. “I'm fine.”

He frowned. “You really should take that thumb to a doctor. And get a tetanus shot.”

She merely gave him a glare and took a bite of corn. Luke was in the same boat she was. For sure and certain, no one could love him just the way he was. It gave her a small measure of comfort and made her feel worse at the same time.

She studied Luke out of the corner of her eye. She was only fooling herself to think that Luke would remain a bachelor. He was certainly handsome enough to catch a wife, while she was as plain as a fence post—he'd told her so himself. And while she hated to admit it, Luke did have some
gute
qualities, like the kindness he showed to Rose and his good-natured determination not to be offended or cowered by Aunt Bitsy.

It didn't matter how abrasive or proud Luke was, he would get a wife—someone sweet and pretty and biddable like Treva King or Dinah Eicher. Not someone like Poppy Christner, who refused to keep her temper and spoke her mind and made a boy teach her how to build a chicken coop against his will.

“You're the one who needs a tetanus shot, Doctor Luke,” Aunt Bitsy said. “You practically cut your finger off. For someone who is too good for women's work, you don't do it well.”

“I'm not too good for women's work.” Luke grinned at Aunt B and held up his finger with the towel wrapped around it. “But this is
Gotte
's way of telling you that I am not fitted for it.”

Dan snorted. “Don't let him fool you, Bitsy. He's only saying that because he lost the watermelon-cutting contest.”

Aunt B pointed her fork at Luke as if she were going to hurl it at him. “Luke Bontrager couldn't fool me if I were blind and hard of hearing.”

Luke raised his hands in surrender. His towel flapped in the air. “I'm not trying to fool anybody. Poppy won fair and square, but I won't be caught off guard next time. That was a clever watermelon trick.”

Poppy very nearly flashed a smile but thought better of it. Luke didn't really think she was clever.

Luke helped himself to two pieces of Poppy's nut brown bread, spread a thick layer of butter over each of them, and took a bite as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. “This is wonderful-
gute
bread.”

“Poppy made it,” Lily said, as if Luke would care who baked the bread.

Luke turned his dark eyes to Poppy. “I know. I finished the chicken coop so she could come in early. This bread is worth all the work I had to do myself.”

Poppy willed her pulse to slow down. One nice word from Luke wasn't going to affect her in the least. “I think what you mean to say is that you wish I would have been baking bread all day instead of bothering you outside.”

“
Jah
, that's probably what I meant.” He took another bite. “I'd build three chicken coops for a loaf of this bread.”

“You would not,” Poppy protested.

“You don't have to do that,” Lily said. “Poppy made an extra loaf. You're welcome to take it home.”

Aunt B scrunched her brows together. “We can't risk sending food home with him. He's sure to come back if we do, and I won't stand for it.”

“I know how much you like my company, but I think I can safely promise you never to come back,” Luke said, stuffing a bite of meat loaf in his mouth and savoring it like it was his last bite of food ever. “Unless you need something else built or I have to rescue Poppy again. But I'll sure miss this bread.”

“That's a piecrust promise, Luke Bontrager,” Aunt B said, waving her fork so hard that Poppy was sure it would fly out of her hand. “Just look at Dan. We fed him once and he kept coming back, no matter how hard I prayed.”

“I've never needed rescuing,” Poppy said.

“I was happy to do it.”

Poppy ground her teeth together. Luke Bontrager was as aggravating as a garden full of bindweed in the springtime.

Luke ate like a starved man. For as tall and muscular as he was and as hard as he worked, he probably ate that way at every meal. “
Denki
for dinner,” he said. “The potatoes are creamy, and the meat loaf is delicious.”

“Poppy helped with the meat loaf,” Lily said.

Poppy glanced sideways at her sister. “I grated the carrots and chopped the onions. It's Lily's recipe and Rose's special sauce.”

Luke trained his eyes on Poppy as his lips twitched upward. “The carrots are well grated.”

A pleasant warmth overspread her face. She gritted her teeth and pushed it away by pressing her fingers against her cheeks. She refused to behave like silly Dinah Eicher, who swooned every time Luke looked at her. Poppy never swooned, especially not over a boy.

“It doesn't take much to grate carrots,” she said.

Luke raised his eyebrows. “I'd probably lose half the skin on my hand.”

“And bleed all over the kitchen,” Aunt B added. She had a very low opinion of Luke's abilities.

Luke finally looked away from her. Poppy's breathing returned almost to normal. “It wonders me if Joann would like the recipe for your sauce, Rose.”

Rose smiled, not the least bit disconcerted that Luke looked at her. So why was Poppy feeling so skittish? Luke didn't frighten her at all.

“Are you going to the animal shelter tomorrow?” Luke said. “You could give her the recipe when you see her.”

“Jah,”
Rose said. “For sure and certain.”

Luke had two sisters. Joann, age fifteen, and Dorothy, age thirteen. Luke's sisters and Rose rode the bus together every Wednesday afternoon to volunteer at the animal shelter in Shawano. At the ripe old age of twenty, Rose was like a mother hen when she got together with Joann and Dorothy.

Luke polished off the last of the meat loaf on his plate. Poppy had never seen anyone eat with the appreciation Luke showed his dinner. He had probably tucked away half of the food on the table. “This whole meal is wonderful-
gute
.”

The lines around Aunt B's mouth were as deep as canyons. “Well, don't get your hopes up.”

Lily had been blessed in her choice of boyfriends. Always so helpful, Dan jumped up after dinner and began filling the sink with soapy water. Aunt B insisted that Luke, in spite of having only one good hand, help clean up too. He groaned about having to do women's work, flapped his towel-wrapped hand like a wing, and made a big show of struggling to lift his plate from the table, but he did his share and made everyone laugh. That is, everyone but Aunt Bitsy. Aunt B would never allow Luke to coax so much as a smile from her lips. She kept a watchful eye just in case Luke shirked his duties.

After dishes, Aunt B folded her dish towel and propped her hands on her hips. “Now, Poppy, I'd like to inspect part of the chicken coop.”

“Which part?” Luke said, doing an unsatisfactory job of wiping down the table with his one good hand. He left several crumbs.

“The part that you built,” Aunt B said. “I trust that Poppy's part is well made, but if you build like you cut watermelon, it might not pass muster.”

For the first time since he'd walked into the house, determination settled into the lines of Luke's face, as if Aunt B had thrown him a challenge. Poppy had seen that same look on his face several times in the last two days. She hadn't really considered it before, but Luke took immense pride in his work.