“They find colors attractive, especially blue, purple, and yellow. It must remind them of flowers.” She smiled coyly.
Moses paused. “Let’s see if I have this straight. If I wear black, I’ll draw their anger because they think I’m a bear or a skunk. But if I wear colors, they’ll think I’m a flower?”
“Exactly. Honeybees also have an incredible sense of smell and are attracted to certain odors. But if they are attracted to your scent, they’ll most likely not attack. The key is to remain calm and keep going in the opposite direction.”
“Odors? Since they were less than friendly, is that another reference to me being a skunk?” Moses waggled his eyebrows.
“Of course not. You smell very nice.” A beautiful color of pink darkened her cheeks. Moses rubbed his chin and grinned, suddenly happy he’d taken the extra time to apply a bit of aftershave.
“The hot weather affects their mood. The decrease in pollen and nectar makes honeybees nasty and more territorial. It is a natural defense. They’re defending their honey.”
“I can understand that. You can’t blame a fellow for getting riled when someone tries to take his honey.” Moses tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and grinned.
Bethany’s cheeks lifted, and her eyes crinkled in a smile. “Another bee joke. You must have a hundred of them.”
“It’s a new-found talent. There’s a young lady I’ve been trying to impress. I’m fortunate to have my entire family and circle of friends trying to help me come up with new ones. But that one I came up with myself.”
“Well done. I’m impressed.” Bethany met his gaze. “Coming to get me was a very thoughtful thing to do. How long a drive is it to Carrie Town?”
Moses steered her away from the station toward his buggy. “It will take about an hour and a half. There’s a shady spot along the way next to the river that I’d like to show you. I brought a picnic lunch and thought it might be a nice place to sit and chat. If that’s agreeable to you?”
Chapter 12
“What kind of bee is a sore loser? Answer: A Cry ba-bee!”
– Henry Taylor, Student, Age Seven.
Moses placed her satchel next to a large hamper in the back of the buggy. Bethany studied his full lips and square jaw. Both Memphis Rose’s and Daisy’s letters described him as handsome with dark hair and eyes. Their descriptions didn’t do the man justice. He was gorgeous. He removed his hat and reached for her hand. “Your carriage awaits, my lady.”
The morning sun lit a fire of auburn highlights in his wavy locks, his light brown eyes reminding her of honey. His freshly shaven face smelled of lemongrass. No wonder the bees swarmed him. He returned his hat to his head, then whisked her onto the bench and hopped up beside her.
Her worry about Moses's cryptic correspondence returned when she realized the man glaring at her at the mercantile was her intended. Perhaps it was the bee stings that caused his brief display of displeasure. With the town at their back, Bethany cast a sideways glance at Moses. Though not a small person herself, the size of the man was intimidating, he was massive with broad-shoulders, large hands, and muscular arms.
Her relief knew no bounds when they settled into a natural conversation. Bethany listened contentedly as he gave her an update on the status of their new home’s repairs. She glanced at her lap and studied the brightly colored flowers in bright shades of lemon-yellow, orange, and gold with chocolate-colored centers. “Did I tell you my favorite flower is a daisy?”
Moses clucked to the horses. “Don’t believe so. But if I recall correctly, you weren’t able to narrow your favorite color down to one. You said you liked the blue sky, green grass, and golden wheat. This morning when the sun was shining on the black-eyed-Susans, it reminded me of your first letter. Which is why I went back for more, and it was then that your pesky friends mistook me for a bear.”
“No one’s ever given me flowers before. I appreciate your efforts, but I’m sorry you were stung.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with the men in Tennessee that no one has ever come courting with flowers before now.” Moses flashed a broad smile and reached for her hand. “Their loss is my gain. Although the next time I go stomping around in my mother’s garden, I sure won’t wear black.”
“I have some liniment in my bag we can put on your arm when we stop. I made it myself from beeswax.” Bethany felt her face flame. “I’m sorry, you must think I’m forward.”
“Not at all. You remind me a bit of my mother talking about making your own healing remedies.” He chuckled. “A word of warning. My mother has a remedy and a story to go along with everything.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her and the rest of your family as well.”
“There’s a bunch of us and a lot to take in at one time. You’ll meet some of them tonight at dinner.” Moses circled her palm with the rough pad of his thumb. “Tell me about your trip. I’m sorry you were rerouted. Hope the rest of your experience wasn’t too unpleasant.”
“Not at all. The fact that Charity was my traveling companion the entire time made the trip very enjoyable. But I must say we were grateful to stop in Mundy last night. It gave us a chance to rest and freshen up.”
“You certainly don’t look as though you’ve been traveling for days. From the tintype and my sister-in-law’s description, I knew you were pretty. But you’re a mite different than I expected.”
Bethany sucked in her breath and turned her attention to the wildflowers in her lap.
Moses cleared his throat. “That didn’t come out right. I’m making a mess of this. What I meant to say is you exceed my expectations.”
Bethany felt her heart melt. She studied the slight flush on Moses’s face. “I’m nervous too.” The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves created a comforting rhythm. Moses nodded toward the flat, dusty landscape. “This must seem like a different world compared to the hills of Tennessee.”
“It’s different but beautiful in its own way. Have you ever been to Tennessee?”
“No. My parents both spoke of it often. I can almost picture the hills and mountains, green in the spring and multi-colored in the fall.”
“The matron of the orphanage shared quite a few stories about both of your parents. She said your mother got her name because her eyes were as green as the Tennessee mountaintops.”
“That’s true. You can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, and my mother is no exception. They’re as green as grass and sparkle with mischief quite often. But don’t think because you’ve heard the story from Mrs. Shelby that she won’t feel the need to share it with you as well. My mother likes to talk almost as much as she likes to cook.”
“Mrs. Shelby often spoke of your father, as well. My guess is there are remnants still there from her schoolgirl crush.”
Moses's shoulders shook. “Apparently, my father was quite the lady’s man. But it's hard to picture him as a young man with girls fighting over him. According to my mother, the reason my pa found her appealing was because she was the only one who ignored him.” Still laughing, Moses steered the buggy around a bend. “You haven’t said much about your father. What did he say when you wrote to tell him you were coming here?”
“I haven’t heard back from him yet, but that’s not unusual. He doesn’t get to town much, and it’s typical for months to go by without receiving any correspondence.”
“Do you have any other family, other than your grandparents?”
“Yes, I have a lot of cousins. My father’s sister is a recent widow. She and her family are moving back to the Memphis area to live with my grandparents. Her oldest son is going to be a huge help to my grandfather on his farm.”
Moses clucked to the horses and pulled to a stop in a flat area underneath a group of massive trees. He descended from the buggy and motioned with his thumb. “There are a couple of boulders situated together that form a makeshift table and bench. They’re situated next to the river.”
Bethany’s skirts swooshed when he plac
ed his hands on her waist and swung her down from the buggy. Moses took her hand, then retrieved the picnic basket. “If you like the spot, we can come back more often in the fall when the weather’s a bit cooler.”
Bethany stared at the flow of the crystal water. The soothing sounds of water splashing and tumbling over rocks spurred her closer. “It’s beautiful.”
Moses led her to a large rock next to the river. Bethany held the picnic basket while Moses threw a checkered cloth high in the air. He grinned when it fell seamlessly onto the flat stone surface. “When I was a kid, I heard about a magician who could remove a cloth from under a table full of dishes. My mother let me practice outside with our tin plates and cups. I never could pull off the trick, but I became an expert at putting on a tablecloth.”
“That is a wonderful accomplishment in itself. I can’t imagine my grandmother allowing me to attempt something like that even with her tin dishes.”
After eating lunch, Bethany packed the basket while Moses took care of the horses. Shielding the sun from her eyes, she noticed Moses rubbing his arm and grimacing. Bethany put the basket in the back of the buggy, reached for her satchel, and removed a tin of salve. When Moses returned to the carriage after hitching the horses, she said, “I can tell your arm is still bothering you. Would you allow me to put some balm on the beestings?”
Moses’s brow furrowed. “I’m fine.”
Bethany raised one eyebrow. “I’m beginning to see why the bees may have mistaken you for a bear. That was an impressive growl.”
“I did not growl.” Moses’s mouth opened and closed. “Did I?”
Hands on hips, Bethany’s mouth twitched. “You most certainly did. Although your scowl wasn’t quite as big as the one you gave me at the mercantile, I’m willing to let bygones bee bygones, considering I know first-hand how uncomfortable a sting can bee.”
Moses chuckled. “Thank you for your concern, but what kind of man would I be if I let a little insect make me into a crybaby?”
“My hope is this salve will eliminate the need to compare yourself to an infant or a grizzly.” Bethany nodded toward his arm. “Are you going to roll up your sleeve?”
Moses stepped closer and met her gaze. Bethany stared into his eyes, mesmerized as the color darkened from amber to a rich chocolate. “Well, I sure don’t want to be compared to a bear again today. So, I guess I’d better.”
Her stomach fluttered as she dabbed the salve on the stings and then gently rubbed the ointment on the angry red patches surrounding the bites. “This should help.”
“Thank you for the salve.” Moses reached for her hand and placed her fingers to his lips. Bethany took in a deep breath and exhaled, knowing she was about to lose her heart.
Chapter 13
“My grandmother used to say, ‘If a bee enters your home, it's a sign that you will soon have a visitor. If you kill the bee, you will have bad luck, or the visitor will be unpleasant.’” – Mrs. Tennessee Montgomery, Housewife, and Mother
Bethany’s hand flew to her throat when they pulled in front of his parents’ gray two-storied Gothic Revival-style house with pointed arches and window shapes. “How lovely and what a wonderful front porch.”
Moses followed her gaze toward the wooden structure trimmed in white decorative screens with wrought iron, covering the windows and front door. Everything about the house was pristine.
His gut wrenched. Deputy Weaver was correct when he said his new bride deserved a nice-looking home. Moses glanced at Bethany’s bright smile. It was natural to appreciate something beautiful. But then again, why wouldn’t she find their new home attractive? After all, there was a good view of the stable yard. No porch to sit on, but what was the point of having a front parlor? Then again, at the moment, there was no place to sit. Maybe he could make a bench.
“To me, nothing says home like a front porch. I spent many hours sitting with my grandparents on their verandah at the end of the day.”
Moses jumped from the buggy, then followed her gaze. “We tend to gather there as a family as well, especially on Sunday afternoons.”
Bethany accepted his assistance exiting the buggy. His hands lingered on her waist. “It seems strange that today is the first time we’ve laid eyes on one another, and yet I feel as though I know you so well. I’m happy you’re here.”
Her blue-gray eyes met his. The beautiful shade of pink he’d come to admire colored her cheeks. “I’m happy to be here. I’ve had a wonderful day, and I am looking forward to meeting your family.” Bethany reached for her bouquet. “I’d also like to see the scene of the crime.”
“Not a chance, young lady.” Moses’s eyebrows drew together. “Tomorrow while I’m at work, my mother will be thrilled to show you her garden. Fair warning, once she sees you have an interest in vegetation, she’ll want to show you my sister’s plot as well. Maggie’s home is only a few blocks from here.”
“I’m not so easily swayed and will have you know I won’t feel sufficiently courted without a stroll through the garden. Though considering your suffering, certain allowances should be made going forward.” Bethany’s eyes twinkled. “I must insist you forego the wearing of your dark jacket. Perhaps you should wear the blue shirt you were telling me about.”
Moses pulled on his ear. “I have plans to show you another spot that has an equally impressive view. I’d like to postpone my visit to my mother’s garden until it’s time for the honeybees to settle down some. Like in the dead of winter, maybe?”
The screen door slammed, and a young girl with blond hair squealed. “Grandma, they’re here.”
Moses nodded toward the house. “You’re about to become acquainted with the sister-in-law of my brother, John-Mark. Annie is six-years-old and has a vivid imagination. She insists Memphis is a long-lost princess from a fairy tale.”
“Memphis Rose shared stories about Annie in her letters. She mentioned she also has an obsession with the characters in The Christmas Carol.” Bethany glanced toward the front door. “I possessed quite the imagination when I was a child. My poor grandmother became convinced I would be forever nonsensical.”
“Nothing wrong with a kid having a bit of fun. She keeps us in stitches. Her newest belief is that Deputy Weaver’s new wife is Nellie Bly.”
“The lady reporter?”
“According to Annie, Deputy Weaver’s wife has a plaid coat, just like the reporter wore when she traveled around the world. She also has a little dog that does tricks. Annie’s convinced they are the same person.” Moses retrieved her satchel, then offered his arm. “Both Annie and her brother, Andrew, think of Ma and Pa as grandparents and me and my brothers, uncles. Hope you’re ready to be an aunt?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
***
Bethany leaned back contentedly in the wooden rocking chair on the Montgomery family’s L-shaped front porch. Dinner was delicious and filled with lively chatter as Moses’s family teasingly warned Bethany against considering their brother’s suit.
Moses moved his rocker closer and reached for her hand. She was surprised how comforting she found the small calluses on the tips of his fingers and palm. His gaze focused on dozens of fireflies, spurred on by the warm, humid evening, illuminating the front yard with displays of blinking lights.
Moses’s father pointed his pipe toward the display of insects. “The lightning bugs are creating a festive program this evening. It’s as though they know we’re celebrating your safe arrival, Miss Brady.”
The youngest brother, Malachi, glanced up from his perch on the front steps and slapped his knees. “More like the little critters recognize a miracle when they see it. I still can’t believe you chose to write back after you read Moe’s comment about The Pied Piper. That was even worse than when he changed Mike’s answer to that book by Jane Austen.”
Mr. Montgomery, every bit as handsome as Mrs. Shelby indicated, narrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly. His hair was dark and graying slightly at the temples. His shoulders broad
, and his hands and arms showed the strength of a man who made his living pounding iron into shape. It was apparent Moses and his brothers inherited their size and coloring from their father. But his round cheeks and a hint of auburn in his hair were from his mother. “There now, Malachi, your brother is entitled to his own opinion about his favorite author. Perhaps Miss Brady enjoys Mr. Browning’s poems as well.”
Moses shot her a lopsided grin. Her mouth lifted at the sight of his flushed cheeks. “I just thought it was interesting.” He nodded toward his niece, who appeared carrying a mason jar filled with fireflies. “Since Annie gives us an almost daily dose of fairy tales and how they end happily ever after, the ending of The Pied Piper surprised me. The story wasn’t what I expected, but the morale was a good one and made me think.”
“It gave me a bad dream.” Annie broke out into giggles. “Not really, I’m teasing.” The young girl extended a glass jar filled with lightening bugs to Bethany. “I’m glad you wrote back.”
Bethany felt her heart swell at the gift from the young girl whose blond hair had escaped its ribbons.
“I like the story because the man had a magic flute. Did you like that part of the poem, Uncle Moe?” Annie patted Moses’s arm and nodded toward his older brother sitting in the wrought-iron swing with Memphis. “Uncle Mike says you’re going to need one to get rid of all the mice in your attic.”
Bethany straightened. She watched in dismay as everyone dissolved into laughter. She glanced at Moses’s flushed face, then at her friend. Memphis Rose wiped tears from her cheek. “You’ll get used to this teasing, Bethany. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, but there is.” Annie motioned toward Moses’s mother. “Grandma said for Uncle Moses to take home a couple of mousers. But Uncle Moe doesn’t like cats.”
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