by Mindy Steele
Once the final prayer was over, he stood, stretching out his stiff limbs. He collected his straw hat, walked to the barn opening, and peered out. Cool May rain drizzled down, matching his discontented mood. It was only a month ago that logs had slid off the loading skids at the mill, landing on his father’s leg. It had been a terrible accident, and that grim day had been the beginning of everything shifting in Adam’s life.
As an only child, Adam accepted responsibility for all the family’s financial burdens while his father was laid low, but working multiple jobs left a man little time to sleep, much less do anything else.
But it wasn’t sleep that was harassing Adam right now. It wasn’t even the rejection he’d received from the woman he’d spent the last year courting, though it still stung that she had left him because he worked too much—as if that was even a plausible excuse. But no, none of those were what troubled him now.
Adam had a bee problem.
Under all the mounting responsibilities he’d inherited, how would he manage the summer honey harvest?
He glanced back and noticed his former girlfriend, Susanne, prattling with friends in a distant corner instead of helping the women ready the fellowship meal. She stood out with her blonde hair and fetching smile, mocking him. In the large open barn, tables lined the back while benches sat nearly empty beside him, nearer the open front. He waited for the weather to break, a chance to put some distance between him and the woman who made a habit of skirting chores like she did commitments. Susanne always hid when there was work to be done or promises to be kept. Instead of helping the women serve today, she stood giggling and gossiping in a corner. It made his blood boil. One minute he was anticipating asking her to marry him and the next, he was alone.
Couples who endured the hard days with an equal love and gratitude as for the good ones were equivalently matched. Adam believed that wholeheartedly. He had been a fool to rest his hopes in a maedel who had other ideas. Watching his parents work so well together over the years had sent all kinds of fanciful notions into his head about marriage, but reality had taught him few could have what his parents had been blessed with. Susanne wanted a husband who made her the center of his world, but the world was too big for one to set any fallible human at the center of it, by his way of thinking. He should have seen the truth earlier, but he’d been blinded until it was too late. Betrayal, just like rejection, had a way of bruising a man deep. He knew he was better off, but fresh wounds were sore spots, and some sores tended to linger longer than others.
Few knew about the breakup yet, since it had been just days ago when Adam caught her holding hands with another man, but surely all of Havenlee would know soon enough. The gossip would spread that Adam had been passed over for Jerimiah Petersheim. It seemed Jerimiah had more time for porch-sitting and doting on her, and that appealed to her. Susanne had made it clear she had no intention of sharing a life with someone who raised bees for a living.
Hoping to avoid further sympathetic looks from Kathy Zook, Susanne’s mother, Adam retrieved his hat and strolled out of the barn to seek solace under an old oak. The misty rain was tapering down, but even if it had been pouring buckets, he would have preferred being out here.
Tobias, Jacob, and Caleb, his closest friends, ambled out of the barn and joined him under the budding oak, which did nothing to umbrella them from the gloomy day. Since childhood, wherever he went, they had never been far behind.
“Looks to be about over.” Tobias held out a palm up to prove it. Slowly, others began leaving the crowded barn, beckoned by the promise of summer carried on the winds.
“How’s Atlee doing?” Caleb inquired.
“He handled the two surgeries and the two weeks in the hospital with the finesse of a bear awoken in winter.” Adam grinned. “But now he’s happy as a cat in the milk pail with all the pampering Mamm is giving him.”
Adam surveyed everyone milling about. Faces he had known all his life. Somewhere in that sea of hats and white kapps had to be someone willing to lend an extra pair of hands. He was going to need more than the two he had if he was to keep things moving forward. Everyone had offered well-wishes and expressed their concerns for his father’s well-being since the accident. Many of the local women had been by their home to lend a hand, making Mamm’s life easier. It was one of the reasons Adam loved being part of his Amish community: how people went out of their way to help each other. Havenlee was a community where everyone took care of one another. There were five cakes, nine pies, and more cookies than three people could eat in a lifetime sitting on Mamm’s counter presently. But not one of those sweets was going to help him manage his life right now.
He was at a dead end.
The bees were his future, and soon he needed to be pulling frames and harvesting their riches. But how was one man supposed to do all the things he needed to? He groaned inwardly.
He had asked everyone he could think of, but no one could help him out. He suspected some were more afraid of the bees than others, and he couldn’t rightly hold that against them.
He ran his hands through his darkening blonde hair, glad Mamm had shortened it yesterday, and surveyed the faces more closely. He just needed one person, just one, and then he could manage.
He liked plans, following them; he was no longer a boy who believed things would work themselves out.
It was all...complicated.
After the meal, children scampered away in various directions and split into groups: some to play kickball, some boys who were overly fascinated with mud puddles, and little girls who just stared at the two groups, giggling. Men gathered into clusters to talk about the upcoming planting season and the weather. Standing between youth and age, Adam didn’t want to play kickball or talk about planting. He wanted to find someone who could help him with his hives. The tension between his shoulder blades tightened.
“That one’s still shy,” Tobias said, jolting Adam out of his thinking. Tobias was working at the mill this summer for extra money, but he’d always preferred cattle over wood. They were nearly eye level, of the same build—only Tobias ate better, Adam mused.
“I asked her for an extra slice of pie, said danki, and still nothing.” Tobias sounded a bit put out.
“Noel Christner asked Mica if he could drive her home, but she won’t go,” Caleb Esh added, though who he was talking about, Adam couldn’t have said. Adam finally turned to face his friends. Be present. Something he knew he needed to work on more.
Adam followed their gaze to the Graber sisters clearing the dessert table. Tabitha Graber was as well-known for her beauty and her bold, forthright personality as she was for selling quilts at the local Quilters Haven shop and running the family’s produce stand at the local Amish market. She liked things in order, even the way the desserts sat on the table in sequence of color, or the way she arranged vegetables at the family’s produce stand at the market. She never had a hair out of place and always walked with her chin tilted up. She projected confidence and demanded order.
He narrowed his gaze to her younger sister. Belinda was the complete opposite—as gentle and quiet as her sister was dynamic and outspoken. Belinda’s fine looks weren’t as striking as her sister’s, but her beauty had a lovely peacefulness to it. Looking at her settled him, filled his heart with quiet warmth. His eyes caught on her hair, which didn’t hint at red like the rest of the Grabers. She was blonde, but not the sunny color of Susanne’s. Belinda’s was somewhere between wheat and gold.
He pulled his gaze away firmly, deliberately. Women only complicated life, and he needed no more complications, especially from that one.
In school Belinda had been teased because of a birthmark on her left cheek, but Adam never noticed it much. He was more entranced by those large, expressive eyes of hers, and the way she would turn squiggling lines on her paper into plants, flowers, and scenery. He could count on both hands the number of times he’d almost app
roached her when they were students, but every time he came close, she would drop her gaze and he’d imagined he could literally see the anxiety run up her spine. No, Adam wasn’t one for making others feel uncomfortable, and it was clear he made her very uncomfortable. Another reason he hadn’t followed her last night, to query if her grandfather had taken a turn for the worse.
“You’re talking about Belinda, aren’t you?” Adam replied coolly.
“Jah.” Tobias smirked. He was an incorrigible flirt. “A man could catch a glimpse of those eyes if she’d stop staring at her feet all the time.”
Adam refused to comment.
“I told her that strawberry pie was my favorite, offering her a compliment, and she walked off into the house like she hadn’t heard a word I’d said,” Jacob added. Jacob had a tendency to speak in one volume, a decibel just above actual silence. Adam suspected most didn’t hear a word he said, but he was used to his friend’s undertones.
“You know she’s shy,” Adam put in unnecessarily. Everyone knew her timid, quiet nature. Belinda never sought out attention like other single girls in the community. Still, it found her easy enough. Maybe Gott knew what he was doing, blessing the beautiful sisters with an older brother the size of a shed. Mica would never allow just any man to court one of his sisters. Adam shook his head and grinned.
“Jah, that too,” Tobias conceded. “But still...she isn’t getting any younger. You’d think she would look up once in awhile. Smile or bat her eyelashes like the rest do,” he added in an irked tone. “Isn’t that a rule or something?”
Caleb chuckled. “Maybe she finds you repulsive.” Caleb had a uniquely deep voice, the kind that always stood out amongst others. Adam laughed too. He loved his friends, with their banter and their comebacks. They never said a word when Susanne broke off their relationship. In fact, they seemed pleased. Caleb had often voiced the thought that Adam and Susanne weren’t a good match. His friends also never fussed when days went by and they hadn’t spoken, which he was now regretting, considering the topic of conversation was Belinda.
Adam fixed his gaze on the subject of conversation again. He hadn’t let himself look at her when he’d been courting Susanne. He preferred Belinda didn’t look up and bat eyelashes at any of his friends, knowing them as he did.
She was far from the little girl who had first stirred his heart. Her pale green dress hinted at subtle curves that had not been present on her younger form. She whispered something in her grandmother’s ear, guided her toward the house, and vanished. She was probably encouraging Mollie to rest. That limp couldn’t be ignored, and at Mollie’s age, the family matriarch had earned all the rest she needed.
“You just wish she stared at you.” Adam pulled his attention away, toed the dirt around a dandelion.
“I remember when you wished that, too,” Tobias countered, and gave his dark brows a wiggle. “You missed out on a lot fun back then since you were so stuck on pining over that one.”
“I remember that too,” Caleb added. “Never understood why you never tried harder.”
“I didn’t pine,” Adam said gruffly. “We were kinner and she didn’t care for my... staring.” No, she ran and hid every time Adam even thought to approach her during those years.
“Maybe you should give it another try,” Tobias said, visibly amused.
“Nee. I’m not ever trying my hand at courting again,” Adam said firmly. He had half a dozen responsibilities and not one would ever again include a woman. Too much trouble.
“Ever?” Joshua asked, his face distorted in shock.
“Ever.” Betrayal, like rejection, left its marks.
To his surprise, they let the subject drop. Normally they teased, poked a thing with a stick enough that Adam’s temper flared. He appreciated their restraint in this case. These days it took little poking to get his temper going.
Nelly waved in their direction. “Guess that’s my cue to go. See ya fellows,” Caleb said, marching toward his sweetheart. Adam watched the perfect pair stroll off. Caleb was soon to take over his father’s dairy business and Nelly worked at her onkel’s store a few days each week and baked pies to sell for extra income for her family. They had a future ripe for the taking.
“I need to get going as well. Rhoda agreed to let me drive her home. If we leave now, we can take the long way,” Tobias said, with a side-twisted grin.
“Staring at one girl and courting another?” Adam lifted a brow. “And how is that Yoder girl over in the next district?” he added, teasing.
Tobias tipped his hat, smiling to show off a row of slightly crooked teeth and a full-fledged charm that matched the twinkle in his dark eyes. “I’m in no hurry to settle down, and I like leaving my options open. See ya.” Adam shook his head as his friends wandered off. He doubted Tobias would ever grow up.
“You look like a man who is thinking too hard. It wonders me if you have more than Atlee’s health on your mind today.” The bishop, Benjamin Schwartz, appeared out of nowhere. He was a short, stout man with more grey in his hair than a man his age had usually earned, and he’d always been keen on seeing to the needs of others.
Adam hoped the bishop hadn’t heard him and his friends talking about girls.
“Jah,” Adam said. “With Daed laid up with his leg, I took up work at the local pallet mill. I think missing a few extra hours of sleep is weighing on me.”
“Your Daed has a long road ahead of him, for sure and for certain.” That was the truth. Soon his father would begin physical therapy. Adam winced. He shouldn’t be fretting over his own problems when his Daed was bending toward miserable.
“That’s five days a week,” the bishop tilted his head. “And do you still help Ivan Shetler in his construction business?”
“Jah, when he needs the help. He has a full crew and only calls for small jobs or if he’s running behind on a project.” Adam looked down at his hands, blistered from cutting metal for three days straight. The work wasn’t easy or steady, but it paid well and didn’t interfere with his honey business. He and Ivan had made a deal years ago.
The bishop cleared his throat. “You know the community has funds for matters such as these. You are stretching yourself out too thin, I feel.” The community always collected offerings to help families in need, but Adam knew his Daed was a firm believer that accepting help should only happen in times of dire need, not to simply make life easier.
“Nee. I can manage. Others could use the money more.” Like the Schmidts, who’d lost their barn, including livestock, in a recent lightning storm. The bishop agreed with a signature nod.
“So it is something else that troubles you today?” The bishop returned to stroking his beard, searching for the answers somewhere in the steady strokes. “You are worried about the honey business.”
It wasn’t a question. Everyone in Havenlee knew Adam had raised bees since he was sixteen. Many purchased his honey at the local Amish store or one of the Englisch stores in town, and there was hardly any surplus to stockpile over the winter months. Mamm had suggested he open a booth at the local Amish market. It was a good idea, but Adam had too many other responsibilities to work the stand so frequently.
He was itching to add more hives. It would be a good income. Enough, eventually, to sustain himself without the need for another income, now that supporting a family of his own was no longer in his future.
“Jah, I am. First harvest is June, then again in mid-August. With my other responsibilities, I could use an extra set of hands this year.” Adam shifted his feet and searched the crowd as many began leaving. “I’ve asked everyone, but with summer nearing, no one can help.”
The bishop looked over his community as he ran his hands down his beard, forming a sharp point. Benjamin wasn’t just the bishop, but a problem solver, too. His advice had helped the small community of Havenlee prosper and grow, with a busy Amish market where families sold their
homemade goods. Tourists flocked to the largest Amish communities, but out here where roads ran narrow and pavement was scarce, their old roadside stands had barely seen a visitor. Havenlee had been fortunate the day he chose the lot.
Not all men were called to serve. The choosing was God’s will. No Amish man was formally trained to lead a community, but when a position for a deacon, minister, or bishop needed to be filled, it was the man who unknowingly picked up the one Bible containing a slip of paper from a table of Bibles who was gifted a lifelong commitment of serving others. Benjamin Schwartz was made for his position.
“You’ve got time yet,” Benjamin said. Adam did, but not a lot of it—a handful of weeks. “Mica Graber used to help his family back in Kentucky with their hives. He is mighty busy, but he’s close by and has a strong back.” The Bishop smiled and patted Adam’s shoulder, before strolling away to the next group of men and whatever troubles they might have that needed mending.
Adam turned his attention toward the Bylers’ barn. Mica was already helping his sisters into their buggy, and Mollie sat primly in the front holding a few empty dishes. Mica was a few years older than Adam and helped his family run their greenhouse business. In the colder months he served as the local blacksmith, and he had spent a few summers in Kentucky helping his dawdi with his beehives. Adam had even asked him a thing or two when he’d purchased his first two hives. How had he forgotten that? Mica had experience and was strong enough to handle the weight of the supers—the large wooden boxes used to collect the honey. What’s more, Adam wouldn’t have to teach him a thing.
It was the perfect idea. He felt his spirits lift, along with the tension that had been building up for days. Maybe he was being given an ounce of mercy, after all.
Chapter Three
On Monday evening, Adam pulled into his drive, feeling as if he had just worked through a full week instead of simply starting one. He veered toward the barn and noticed Mica Graber sitting outside on the Graber family’s wide wraparound porch, watching the sun fall behind Adam’s barn. Adam often found himself watching the sun rise over his neighbors’ home; their east and west positions were perfectly placed to enhance the view. Adam put Honey, his horse, in her stall, giving her a bucket of oats to keep her content for the time being. She needed a good brushing, not to mention a new shoe. But first, Adam needed to see a man about some bees.
