The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1) (25 page)

“Have what?”

“You felt sorry for me and you got carried away and let me hold your hand and now you’re afraid I’ll think it’s more than it was.”

“Nee, it’s the other way around. You held my hand and you got carried away and now you’re afraid I’ll think it’s more than it was.”

“What?” He looked as if his brain hurt. “I don’t think—”

“Who’s been holding hands?” Mudder stormed around the corner, hands on her hips, eyebrows so high they might touch her prayer kapp. “What’s going on here?”

“N-Nothing,” Deborah stuttered. “We were just—”

“I heard. You both best get yourselves out there to say goodbye. They’re pulling out.”

Phineas, a look of sheer relief on his face, hurtled past Mudder without looking Deborah’s way.

Deborah followed. Mudder’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. “Just remember, dochder, there’s a right way and a wrong
way to do things. You’ve been baptized. You know the Ordnung. Your father might not be here, but Gott is.”

“I know.”

“Gut.”

Her hand dropped. Deborah bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying more. Too bad Mudder didn’t take her own advice. Open her eyes and admit she cared for a man who truly cared for her. And his name didn’t begin with an
S
.

TWENTY-SIX

Deborah turned the lantern up just enough to throw light on Josie’s letter. She shouldn’t be reading it at what passed for the middle of the night, but the privacy she wanted was a luxury hard to come by. She couldn’t sleep anyway, in the still, breathless heat of the tiny bedroom. The air didn’t seem to have cooled at all after the sun disappeared into a starless, cloudy night. Maybe another storm was headed their way. Nothing to be done about it, either way. Sitting cross-legged on the floor under an open window, she smoothed the paper and peered at Josie’s careful, penciled print.

Dear
Deborah,

It’s been awhile since you wrote me so I’m taking my turn again. Maybe that will jog your memory about your poor, forgotten best friend in Tennessee. I imagine you’ve made friends there so you don’t feel the need to write so much. That’s okay. We’re busy here too, with harvest and canning and you name it. Still, it seems strange to be doing it all without you. I think of you every time I put a stitch in the quilt we started together back in May.

Surprise mixed with a touch of shame. Deborah had missed her turn without even realizing it. How had that happened? She’d written so much in the beginning, but then the days had filled up with the fire and moving and canning and honey. And Phineas. Not Phineas. Thinking about Phineas. Puzzling about him. Trying to ignore him. Trying to ignore her feelings. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What? Who’s talking?” Leila muttered in her sleep, turned over, and tucked a flat, shapeless pillow under her head.

“Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

Leila muttered again and rolled the other way.

It’s strange to have both you and Aaron gone. The singings aren’t nearly as much fun. I think he was really sorry about how things ended up with you, but your paths have gone in opposite directions so I’m thinking it’s for the best. Easy for me to say, I know. On the happy news side, Milo Borntrager asked me to ride home with him Sunday night. I thought he’d never ask and now he has. We sat outside the house for an hour talking. I’m sorry you don’t get to do that with Aaron anymore. I’m praying that your heart mends quickly. I have to run now. Mudder is calling me to help with supper. Write me soon. I’m dying to know if you’re still thinking of coming back. If you come back before summer’s end, you might be able to help Lotty teach at the school in the fall, but you’ll have to write and tell me soon before they get someone else. Summer’s almost over!

Deborah fanned herself with the paper for a few minutes, considering, probing her feelings. A faint ache, like a bruise that has almost healed, emanated from around her heart, but only a faint one. She hadn’t thought about Aaron in weeks. She hadn’t given
much thought to going home either. Two months ago she would’ve jumped at the chance to be a teacher’s aide. Now the heartstrings tugged in another direction. Gott’s plan all along? A strange, meandering path that brought her exactly where she needed to be?

Mudder would say yes. That everything happened for a reason. Even Daed’s death. The thought of it didn’t pierce her heart the way it once had. She needed to think on that in the light of day when she wasn’t so bone tired and fuzzy-headed.

Tomorrow she would write to Josie and cheer her on. Milo was a pleasant man, a hard worker, and he had a nice smile. Good for Josie. She folded the letter back into its envelope and laid it on the crate. At this rate, she would be walking through her chores in the morning. She slipped into the bed, trying not to disturb Leila.

“Stop tossing and turning, will you? I’d like to get some sleep ’fore morning.”

The irritation in Leila’s voice was deserved. Deborah rolled back toward the edge, keeping a narrow space between her sister and herself. “Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Rebekah and Hazel.”

If Frannie were here, she’d know what to think about all this. About Aaron and Phineas and Gott’s plan. Deborah missed Frannie more than she thought possible, even more than Josie. Her cousin had made life here bearable with her tart observations on life, all delivered with her freckled nose wrinkled and her hands on her skinny hips.

Leila wiggled around on her side so she faced Deborah and put her hands under her cheek. “Do you think Frannie likes it in Missouri?”

Funny how Leila’s thoughts always seemed to run parallel to Deborah’s. “I think Frannie will be happy wherever she lands. She’s like that.”

“Not like you.” Leila’s mouth opened in a wide yawn. “Always moping around. Homesick.”

“Hey, I’m not homesick anymore and I’m not moping. I’m just trying to . . . fit in.”

“I’m not homesick anymore either.”

Deborah couldn’t see her sister’s expression in the dark, but she heard the smile in her voice. “What changed?” As if she didn’t know, but it was obvious Leila wanted to talk about it.

“Courting is private.”

“Jah, jah. Spill the beans.”

“Jesse slipped me a note after the service today.” Leila rolled on her back as if she couldn’t contain herself. “He’s planning to shine his flashlight in the window soon.”

“Good for you.”

“It feels like my insides will explode.”

Deborah knew that feeling. Her chest tightened. Her lungs didn’t seem to want to do their job anymore. The feelings she had for Aaron were nothing compared to the morass of emotion that held her prisoner every time she talked to Phineas. If she’d never met him, she might never have known the difference. She would’ve thought her simple, sturdy feelings for Aaron were the best she could do. Could there be different kinds of love? A calm, steady love with no highs or lows. A love a person could count on. A love that lasted. Except it hadn’t. Aaron had moved on.

Maybe that was because their feelings weren’t deep enough or strong enough. As compared to the bedlam of feelings that made her want to pull her hair out, run screaming through the fields, and shake the man until he explained this whole mess to her. Was that love? “Your insides won’t explode.”

“How do you know?”

“You saw how Mudder and Daed were. Even after all those years together, they were in lieb.” Deborah smiled to herself, remembering the looks Mudder stole at Daed during breakfast in the morning and supper at night. As if they couldn’t wait to share a secret. “Their insides never exploded. They never died down either.”

“You think she feels that way about Stephen?”

“Nee.”

“Me neither.” Leila slapped her hand over her mouth and swallowed another yawn. “Do you feel that way about Phin?”

“Go to sleep, Leila.”

“Oh, come on, your turn to share. Everyone has seen how you two keep accidentally-on-purpose running into each other.”

“You’re dreaming.” Deborah shoved back a sheet that felt as if it weighed forty pounds and sat up. “Go to sleep.”

“Where are you going? The sun won’t be up for at least another hour.”

“I need a drink of water.”

She slipped on her dress and slapped her kapp on her head. It wouldn’t be right to go gallivanting about the King house in her nightgown. Grabbing the flashlight from the crate, she navigated down the hallway through the front room to the kitchen. The air seemed a little cooler. All the windows were open and a tepid breeze caught a curtain and lifted it. She could breathe again.

No chance she would run into Phineas. He’d moved out, lock, stock, and barrel. Most likely he slept fine in his new house where he didn’t have to worry about running into her or sitting across the table from her at mealtimes. Or accidentally holding her hand. He had the place all to himself. Did he get lonely? Not
likely. Sighing, she shuffled into the kitchen, one hand rubbing her burning eyes.

“Guder mariye.”

Deborah jumped and shrieked. “Mordecai!”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His lean figure silhouetted by a kerosene lantern on the counter behind him, he cupped a mug of kaffi in both hands. “I figured you barely had your eyes open. Didn’t see me.”

“Nee, I didn’t.” Hand on her heaving chest, she took a step back. “I was just . . . I mean, I was going to—”

“I couldn’t sleep either. Kaffi’s ready.”

“It’s too hot for kaffi.”

“It’s downright cool this time of day—compared to what it’s like out in the field, putting up silage in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I guess that’s a better way of looking at it.”

“I guess it is.”

She had so many questions she’d like to ask Phineas’s father. She wanted to ask him why Phineas moved out and why he was so hard to talk to and why he couldn’t see that she wanted to be his friend.

More than his friend.

“Phineas is coming over today. We have a hive that’s lost its queen. We’re shutting down the colony and shaking the bees into the one next door to it. We’ll store the honey. It’s quite the under-taking.” Mordecai shifted and straightened. He set his cup on the counter. “I imagine he’ll stay for supper. Susan’s making that Mexican rice he likes with jalapeños and ground beef. It’s spicy. One of his favorites. He really likes lemon pie too.”

Phineas liked spicy food and lemon pie. Trying to figure
out what Mordecai was telling her in his man-roundabout way, Deborah grabbed a glass and filled it with water from a pitcher sitting on the counter. Mudder always said the best way to sweeten up a grumpy man was with a good dessert. “I have a hankering for lemon meringue pie myself. I might have to make one.”

“If you cook like your mudder, I’ll be first in line.” Mordecai lifted his straw hat and settled it back on his head. “My son’s not much of a cook, and living by himself, he’s likely to starve.”

“That bad, huh? He can’t make himself a sandwich?”

“I reckon he can, but what he really needs is a good fraa to cook for him.”

“Or Esther could do for him what Susan does for you.” Deborah wanted to sink into the floor. The words sounded judgmental. She had no right to judge. Mordecai had lost his fraa in a terrible accident, and he was blessed to have a sister who helped him raise his children and keep his house in order. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

“Susan never met the right man.” Mordecai strode past her, his boots clomping on the vinyl floor. “It looks as if Gott has blessed Esther with a special friend. The whole district is blessed by having your family move here.”

It didn’t feel that way to Deborah. “Because now there’re a few more girls to marry the boys?”

“New blood is gut for the district.”

“And that’s more important than being happy?”

“The greater gut.” Something in Mordecai’s tone said he was trying to convince himself as much as Deborah. “We must submit to Gott’s will for this district.”

“How can it be for the greater gut if we’re unhappy?”

“You have to choose your attitude.” The grooves in Mordecai’s
face deepened into a frown. “We should all have an attitude of gratitude.”

“I try.”

“So do I.”

“But it’s not easy.”

“Nee, but nothing worthwhile is.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“I try to practice what I preach. I know we need new families here.” He strode past her and stopped at the screen door, his back to her. “It’s also important to me that my son find happiness. I pray for that every day. That all his wounds be healed, not just the ones on his face.”

He turned, his gaze drilling her. “No matter what’s best for this district, I’m asking you to stay away from him if you’re not really interested.”

“I-Interested?” In her surprise at the raw emotion in Mordecai’s voice, Deborah stuttered the word. “I’m—”

“He’s had enough hurt for a lifetime. That he is still standing is a testament to Gott’s lieb for him.”

Before Deborah could point out the same could be said of Mordecai, he pushed through the door and disappeared from sight.

She had no intention of hurting Phineas. In fact, she was sure her heart was the one in danger of being broken.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Deborah shoved open the van door and hopped out. Her feet sank into hot, gritty sand that drifted over the edge of the asphalt parking lot. She inhaled the damp, heated air that wafted in a salty breeze from the endless expanse of gulf water. It had an odor the likes of which she’d never smelled before. Fishy, salty, and earthy all at once. She could almost taste the salt on her tongue.

Her mouth hung open at the sheer enormity of it. Waves crashed against the beach, dragging seaweed in great bundles back and forth, back and forth. The sun reflected on the water with such brilliance it hurt her eyes. Seagulls swooped and chattered over the roar of the waves. She stood without moving, one hand still on the van’s sliding door, trying to absorb the idea of so much water all in one place. It stretched as far as she could see to the horizon and beyond, going to places she would never visit or know.

“What do you think?” Mordecai stopped next to her, hands on his hips. Butch, who had insisted on making the trip—according to Mordecai—kept going as if as anxious as the kinner to get to the
water. There was no sign of the serious man who had taken her to task before dawn in his own kitchen only a week earlier. “Easy to see Gott’s hand in all that yonder, don’t you think?”