A Beekeeper for Christmas

by Kimberly Grist

  The conductor seated Bethany across from a young woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a simple dark dress. A dark curl framed her cheek under her straw bonnet. She introduced herself as Charity Ann Moore and explained she was on her way to visit family in Texas. Bethany was relieved to be traveling the majority of the trip with another young woman of similar age. She leaned back in her chair and relaxed with the easy conversation, and they admired the beautiful landscape as they bid the hills of Tennessee goodbye.

  Miss Moore pulled out a scarf she was knitting while Bethany positioned her embroidery hoop over her linen shawl. The young woman gasped. “How beautiful. Is that for your wedding?”

  “I hope to be able to wear it for an upcoming dance and possibly for my wedding.” Bethany extended the piece toward her traveling companion. “The honeybee design was my grandmother’s suggestion. She thought the shawl was too plain and needed some embellishment.”

  Charity gasped. “You’ve inspired me. I have a similar shawl I use for church. Do you mind if I copy the pattern?”

  “Not at all. I’m flattered.” Bethany searched through her satchel and retrieved her notepad, which included the sketch of the honeybee. “I thought it a lovely sentiment, but I wondered if others would see the beauty in it.”

  “Well, if they don’t, who cares? You, your grandmother, and I love it, which is all that matters.” Charity giggled.

  Days later, an unexpected stop caused Bethany and Charity to have to make a choice. Standing on the train platform of a small town north of Dallas, the conductor frowned. “At the moment, it’s a guessing game. I don’t have official word on the cause of the interruption, but word is a herd of cattle broke loose from a corral. You can wait here and hope the delay isn’t too great or you can board number 15. There’s a stop at the Mundy station, which is a much safer and comfortable place to be.”

  The weather in Texas was blistering. Bethany glanced around at the small town. Tumbleweeds bounced across the dusty road toward the single structure made of weathered plank walls. A hand-painted sign identifying the trading post and telegraph office swung in the wind. She studied the thin line of the conductor's mouth. “What would you do?”

  The middle-aged man removed his watch dangling from a silver chain and checked the time. He inclined his head toward the locomotive. “Even if it meant a further delay, if you were my daughters, I would much rather you wait it out in Mundy.”

  The engineer activated two long whistles. “Do we have time to send a telegraph?”

  ***

  Moses took in a deep breath. A blend of harness oil, leather, hay, and manure reached his nostrils. Placing the pitchfork aside, he stared across the pasture toward his soon-to-be home. The bright July sun reflected a steady beam on the new tin roof. He removed his watch from his pocket and checked the time. He’d hoped to hear an update about Bethany’s arrival by now.

  The sounds of boots crunched behind him. Moses spun on his heel to see Matthew making strides toward him. His brother was an inch taller than his height of six-three and a more slender build but still massive in size. He gave Moses’s shoulder a good slap. “I was headed over to order the fixtures for your new washroom and stopped by to check if there was an update on Miss Brady’s schedule. The stationmaster said there’s a problem on the westbound track, and the trains are being rerouted. His guess is your fiancée should arrive at the Mundy station sometime tomorrow.”

  “Mundy Station? That’s about an hour or so from here. Will she take the connection into Carrie Town?”

  “The telegraph operator was in the middle of sending out some more inquiries. Leo was there. He said he’d stop by and tell you once he receives a confirmation of arrival times.”

  Moses rubbed his chest. “Thanks for letting me know. My imagination has been running wild.”

  “Imagine so. You figuring on riding over to Mundy and meeting her?”

  “It sure beats staying here and worrying. How about you walk over with me to the mercantile? We’ll place my order and then loop back by the station.”

  Moses paused with his brother in front of the mercantile. “I’ve been trying to decide on a gift for Bethany to let her know how happy I am she’s agreed to come.” He rubbed his chin and studied the display. The large picture window sparkled illuminating tin signs advertising tobacco, cigars, and hardware. On the opposite side stood a churn, washboard, and varieties of laundry and bath soap.

  An elongated shadow appeared over their heads. Deputy Leo Weaver nodded toward a sign featuring cherubs advertising Borax. “Everywhere I look these days, I see those little angels. I don’t understand people’s attraction to half-naked cherubs.” Leo patted Moses’s back and handed him a telegram. “If you’re looking to buy your sweetheart a gift, you’d best make up your mind. Her train should arrive at the Mundy station by tomorrow at noon.”

  Chapter 10

  “The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams.”

  – Henry David Thoreau, Poet, and Philosopher

  Bethany patted her mouth with a checkered napkin and glanced out the window of the Mundy station diner. “I thought I’d be too nervous to sleep last night. The warm bath was so refreshing I fell asleep before my head settled on the pillow.”

  “Even though our night’s stay was extravagant, I would have paid double what the hotel charged for the opportunity to wash my hair and change clothes.” Charity’s hazel eyes twinkled. “I feel like a new person, and you look like one too. There’s not a smidge of train soot on your face or dress.”

  “You look clean and fresh yourself. Since my journey ends this morning, I hope I can remain this way until I reach Carrie Town. More than one person warned me about the accumulation of soot, but I confess I thought it was an exaggeration.”

  “You look lovely. The periwinkle pattern of your dress brings out the color of your eyes.” Charity stared at her over her cup. “Are you feeling nervous about meeting Moses?”

  Bethany shuffled her feet. “On the one hand, I can hardly wait and am excited to see him. On the other, I’m scared to death. What if he’s not who he seems to be in his letters? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like me once we meet or doesn’t show up at all?”

  Charity laughed. “I’m not complaining, but do you realize whenever I ask you a question, you never answer with a simple yes or no?” Her new friend patted her hand. “Is there something worrying you specifically about Moses?”

  “We spent so much time getting to know each other through correspondence. I believe we’ll enjoy one another’s company.” Bethany stared out the window and watched multiple tumbleweeds bounce along the boardwalk toward the train station. “My friends who recently relocated to Carrie Town, sing his praises, and say he is generous and kind.”

  “What’s bothering you then?” Charity added jam to her toast.

  “Even though he constantly sent packages with things he and his family made for my students, his letters were so brief. If it weren’t for the fact his family members took turns adding comments to our correspondence, his letters would seem more like a short note.”

  “His family wrote to you as well? That seems a bit odd.”

  “Most of the time, they added short descriptions of Moses and the community. He shared parts of my letters and told them about my students. For weeks, his sister included jokes and puns his family came up with about bees. My students looked forward to hearing them and soon wanted to correspond as well. The matron of the orphanage where I taught agreed it was an excellent way for the children to practice their writing skills.” Bethany studied the raised brow of her traveling companion. ”He and his family were just trying to make me feel at ease. Do you think I should be concerned?”

  “Don’t mind me. My less-than-stellar experience with my relatives has made me a cynic. It’s nice to hear about families who care about one another.”

  “In his first letter, Moses indicated he wasn’t fond of putting pen to paper. I hope that doesn’t mean he is gruff or abrupt.”
Bethany removed a bundle of letters tied with twine from her reticule. “He seems to enjoy drawing. One letter I received contained a detailed floor plan of the house he purchased for us. It even included the ceiling height and the size of the windows.”

  “Could I see?”

  Bethany removed the paper and handed it to Charity. “My grandmother has been so thrilled that I’m not going to remain a spinster she’s spent hours filling my hope chest with household items. From the information he included in the letters, she set to work making curtains. Grandmother finished the panels for the front rooms with a floral pattern and embroidered honeybees on random flowers. I’m excited to see Moses’s reaction.”

  “From what you’ve told me about your grandmother’s sewing skills, they’ll be beautiful.” Charity glanced at the floorplan of the house, then turned the page over. “Did he include any information about the outside of the house?”

  “The property overlooks the stable yard and is close to town. The structure is sandstone, and he and his brothers are in the process of renovating it. Other than that, I have no idea. My hope is that there will be a front porch large enough for a swing or a pair of rockers.”

  “From our experience so far, I’d say Texas is even hotter in the summer than Tennessee. Surely there will be a verandah. How else will you be able to escape the heat?” Charity glanced at her heart-shaped pendant watch attached to her traveling suit. “As much as I hate to say this, it’s time we started making our way to the station.”

  Carrying their satchels, the women passed the Mundy Camp Meeting Ground. Charity smoothed her freshly washed hair and nodded toward the open-sided frame structure with a gabled roof and bench seating. “I’d prefer to wait here under the pavilion if our schedules are delayed again. The depot’s so dusty. I’d like to avoid undoing the work of my scented soap.”

  “This unexpected stop was a double blessing. We were able to rest, and when we arrive at our destinations today, we’ll smell of roses as opposed to—” Bethany paused.

  “A skunk?” Charity raised one eyebrow.

  Bethany’s mouth twitched. “I was going to be a bit more generous and say a wet dog.” Their skirts flapped in the warm breeze as they checked the schedule. “We still have another forty-five minutes to wait. Would you like to join me while I stroll over to the mercantile? I’m going to need another spool of gold embroidery thread to complete my shawl.”

  Passing through the doors of the establishment, Bethany made her way toward the back wall containing fabric and sewing notions. Charity motioned toward a colorful display of peppermint sticks, jellybeans, rock candy, and lemon drops in glass jars. “I’m going to pick up a bag of penny candy while you look.” The store owner approached wearing a clean white apron over her dark dress.

  ***

  Moses glanced at the wildflowers sitting in a can of water he’d cut from his mother’s garden this morning. He was surprised they looked fresh despite the stifling temperature. He rubbed his forearm, wishing he’d stopped long enough to treat the bee stings. I don’t know what it is about me that seems to attract bees. Whatever it is, I hope it applies to a certain beekeeper.

  Pulling the buggy to a stop, Moses glanced at the train station’s empty tracks. After tending to his horses and checking his watch, he glanced in the town’s direction. He increased his stride and headed toward the mercantile in the hope of purchasing something for his itchy rash. Moses entered the general store. The blend of merchandise, ripe cheese, pickles, onions, molasses, lard, and dried fish combined, causing a distinct aroma. A fluffy yellow kitten circled his leg, brushing its body against his best pants. He sighed and sidestepped the cat, another one of God’s creatures that seemed drawn to him. Passing cracker barrels, he made his way to the cluttered counter. Spotting the bottle of witch hazel on a shelf above the proprietor’s head, Moses let out a breath of relief.

  The mercantile proprietors were busy dividing their attention between two young women. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. A woman dressed in a brightly colored dress compared two spools of thread while the other debated whether to buy peppermint or lemon drops. After he married, he hoped Bethany would do all the shopping and save him from being detained by women not capable of making a simple choice.

  Two long whistles from an approaching train sounded. Moses clenched his jaw in an effort not to scratch his throbbing arm. He moved closer to the proprietor, who was helping the woman with the sewing notions. Who was it that said, “desperate times call for desperate measures?” Moses cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m sorry to interrupt, but while the young lady makes up her mind, I’ve had a run-in with some angry bees and would like to purchase a bottle of witch hazel.” He closed his eyes. Did I just say that out loud?

  Both women straightened. The younger woman’s blue eyes widened. Moses tipped his hat. “I apologize for interrupting. I need to meet the incoming train and am in a bit of a rush.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right with you.” The proprietor removed a bottle from behind the counter, then collected his coins.

  Chapter 11

  “A bee's sense of smell is so precise that it can differentiate between hundreds

  of different flowers. It can also tell from several feet away whether a flower carries pollen or nectar.”

  – Miss Bethany Brady, Beekeeper and Substitute Teacher, Counting Stars Children’s Home

  Moses hurried out the mercantile door, his long legs eating up the distance to the train station and his buggy. He removed his jacket, then soaked his handkerchief with witch hazel, and tied it around his forearm. Grimacing from the burn, he rolled his sleeve down, donned his jacket, retrieved the hard-fought-for bouquet, and headed back to the depot.

  Flowers in hand, he watched as the conductor assisted passengers from the train. So far, no one seemed to fit the description of Miss Bethany Brady. Could she have missed the train? He pulled out the telegram, then moved toward a man in a dark suit wearing a black cap. “Excuse me, sir. I am trying to locate my fiancée. She was supposed to have arrived in Carrie Town yesterday but was rerouted.”

  The man motioned with his thumb toward the schedule. “There’s been a lot of confusion and more changes than I care to admit. One train arrived last night, and I expect another in about twenty minutes. Those two are the only unmarried women whom I know of scheduled in that direction. But like I said, the next one is scheduled to arrive shortly.”

  Moses swallowed and shook his head at the sight of the elegant woman chatting happily to the young lady holding a bag of penny candy. The women from the mercantile. He studied the tall woman in the brightly colored dress who had been the one debating about a spool of thread. That couldn’t be Bethany, could it?

  A lock of hair, the color of chestnuts caressed her cheek. He stepped closer to study the shape of her eyes. Her bright smile was so like the photo in his pocket. Moses quickly removed his hat and placed it over his heart. “Excuse me again, miss. Would you happen to be Miss Bethany Brady?”

  “Yes, I am.” The woman stared at the wildflowers, then met his gaze. Her mouth formed a circle. “Moses?”

  “Yes ma’am.” He extended the bouquet. “I was worried when we received word of the delays. I thought it best that I come and fetch you myself. Welcome to Texas.”

  “How romantic.” The other woman elbowed Bethany. “How do you do, Mr. Montgomery. I’m Charity Moore and have been traveling with your tongue-tied fiancée since Memphis, Tennessee. I must say the flowers are a nice touch.”

  The conductor called. “All aboard.”

  Charity reached into her reticule and pulled out a paper. “I’d best be on my way. Here’s my address. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Bethany pulled her new friend into a hug. “I’ve enjoyed our time together. I’ll write soon.”

  “You’d better.” The young woman gave a quick grin, then gathered her skirts and entered the train.

  The engineer leaned his head out the window and pulled on th
e cord, producing two long whistles. Clouds of steam shot up from the engine, and the combination of hundreds of moving parts joined together, creating the locomotive’s chugging sound.

  Moses’s attention fixed on Bethany, his stomach fluttering like a fish at the flush appearing on her cheeks.

  “Thank you for the flowers. I’m sorry they came at such a great price.”

  He rubbed his arm. “My intentions were good, but the bees didn’t see it that way. It will all be worth it if you like them.”

  “They’re lovely.” Bethany buried her face in the flowers and inhaled the sweet aroma of the lavender bouquet his mother suggested. The yellow daisies he’d added as an afterthought contrasted with the blue in her eyes. Or were they gray?

  “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

  Moses's mouth turned up at her soft voice with a slight twang. The break in her vowels reminded him of the plucking motion he used when playing his banjo. “I’m thankful you traveled all this way to meet me.” He offered his arm, then winced from her touch.

  Bethany paused and stared at his sleeve. “You poor thing. Did you apply the witch hazel?”

  “I did.” Moses felt his face flush. She must think I’m a weakling. “It’s fine. I should have taken the time to treat the sting as soon as it happened. But I was in a hurry and didn’t want to risk missing your train.”

  “Bees don’t like the color black. My grandfather says it’s because many animals of that color prey on them.” Bethany smoothed the arm of his dark jacket with a light touch. “Not that I would compare someone who came all this way to pick me up to a bear or a skunk. But the honey makers you ran into this morning seem to disagree.”

  Moses tilted his head back and laughed. “I’ve been compared to worse. But I was hoping to create a better impression this morning. Since you’re undoubtedly the expert, do you think the little critters would have left me alone if they knew I was trying to impress a certain young lady? Maybe they’d like my blue shirt and brown leather vest better?”