Matthew looked at his mother. “I don’t believe my family would disown me for following my conscience. I can’t know if service to my country will require me to kill another. But when I return to Wayne County, I would hope to be welcomed back.” “I will hear no more of this.” Brother Letts waved his arm as if to brush away the argumentative words. “Let us consider this matter in silent worship. The answer will come from our Lord. Let no other voice be heard except His.”
The men returned to their seats, and a hush fell over the congregation, but it wasn’t the usual tranquil silence of the First Day meeting. Instead a current of unease slipped through the crowd like a frigid wind.
Leah bowed her head, closed her eyes, and prepared her heart to listen. Her new husband had gone to fight; her cousin was set to do the same. Turmoil and upheaval seemed to be in every part of her life. At times like these, she needed the comfort that only the Holy Spirit could provide.
A week later, Leah removed the last skep from the wagon and gingerly placed it in the compartment of the bee shelter Joseph had built. Uncle Abram’s structure had been little more than old boards loosely nailed together, but Joseph had constructed columns of five-sided sturdy boxes, topped with a pitched roof. He’d even provided empty alcoves for future skeps. Perhaps Leah would be able to divide the hive and increase honey production. The bees were sure to thrive in their new home.
She stepped back and listened to the bees’ constant hum inside the skep. They’d settle down soon and begin exploring their new home, just in time for the autumn honey harvest. She’d have to make a trip to Newport to order jars from the general store.
The sound of a horse called Leah’s attention to an approaching rider. It was Joseph, with Stephen perched in front of him.
“What brings the two of thee out to the orchard?” she asked.
“Aunt Rose sent me to get you.” Stephen slid off the saddle. “We got a letter from Papa.”
“That’s wonderful. Is thy papa well?”
Stephen picked up a stick and used it to brush the top of the tall grass. “I guess so. I sure wish I could be with him, fighting those Rebs and showing them what’s what.”
“The Confederate soldiers are men, just like thy papa. Thee wouldn’t hurt thy father; why then would thee hurt another boy’s father?”
Stephen squinted his eyes and cocked his head like a curious puppy. “What?”
Joseph chuckled low and tied his horse to the wagon’s side rail. “That’s a lot for a little head to take in, Miss Leah. Everything all right with your bees?”
“They are sure to flourish here, Joseph. The extra cubicles were a good idea.”
“When can I chew the honeycomb?” Stephen asked.
“In a few weeks.”
Stephen climbed into the back of the wagon while Joseph helped Leah up to the bench. “Olivia said your bees are stupid,” the boy said. “She said anybody who likes insects must be stupid, too.”
Leah caught Joseph’s glance as he drove the wagon out of the orchard. Two weeks had passed without Olivia speaking to Leah, but obviously the girl had spoken many cruel words about her.
“Many people fear what they don’t understand,” Leah said. “Perhaps Olivia will change her mind when she tastes the honey.”
“Miss Rose sure likes your bees,” Joseph said. “She told me you were doctoring her with a honey balm.”
“It’s not honey, but a sticky substance the bees make to protect the hive. My mother taught me to mix it with ginger and arnica as a remedy for sore joints.”
“Ginger I’ve heard of, but what in the world is arnica?”
“It’s a flower, actually. I have a good supply of it in my medicinals box.”
“Whatever it is, Miss Rose swears her old joints are growing younger every day.”
“Maybe,” Stephen said, “but everything else on Aunt Rose is growing older.”
Joseph threw back his head and laughed loudly, but Leah hid her smile behind her apron. If Stephen knew he’d made an impression, he was likely to repeat his opinion to Rose.
When they reached the house, Rose and Olivia sat in the garden, their heads bent over sheets of paper.
“There you are,” Rose said. “Caleb has sent us each a letter.”
“Where’s my letter?” Stephen asked.
“Olivia has it,” Rose answered.
“I want to see it,” Stephen said.
“Papa wrote it to both of us, and I’m keeping it,” Olivia said. “You can’t read, anyway.”
“But it’s my letter, too. Come on, Olivia, give me my letter.”
“No.” Olivia pushed the paper into the sash of her dress. “It’s for me, and I’m keeping it.” The girl turned on her heel and dashed into the house, with Stephen chasing after her, screaming her name.
Rose propped her head in her hand and sighed loudly. “I don’t know whether to be proud of Caleb for answering the call of duty or to be angry at him for leaving me with those two.”
“How is Caleb?” Leah asked. “Is he well?”
“Oh yes. He’s in Missouri.” Rose passed a small folded paper to Leah then turned to Joseph. “Caleb sent instructions for the farm. Let’s go inside, and I’ll relay everything to you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Joseph said.
Leah watched them leave then sat on the bench and examined the letter. It was small and innocuous, a simple piece of folded paper with her name written in black ink. Why then did her chest ache at the prospect of reading it? She took a deep breath and untucked the flap that held the letter closed.
Dear Leah,
It is my fervent hope this letter finds you well and
adjusting to life with my family. I wish to convey my
regret for having to leave so quickly after our wedding and
for not having time to help you settle in. I trust my aunt
has made you feel welcome. When I return, I hope we may
become better acquainted. Until that time I invite you to
write me and to tell me more about yourself.
It was hardly a love letter. It was hardly anything at all. Leah refolded the paper and slid it into the pocket of her apron.
Stephen stomped out of the house, his head hanging, and his eyes shining with tears.
“Why Stephen, what is it?”
The boy collapsed beside her and laid his head against her side. “My letter,” he said between sniffles. “Olivia won’t let me see my letter from Papa.”
Leah wrapped her arm around the boy’s shoulders and felt a tremor of sadness pass through his small body. “Thee may have my letter, and we will write to thy father. Won’t he be surprised when he sees a letter from thee?”
Stephen turned his sorrowful gaze toward her. “But Leah, I can’t write. And I can’t learn until I go to school next year.”
“Says who? There’s no law that says children can only learn at school. I will teach thee to read and write.”
Stephen wiped away a tear. “You?”
“Me. Shall we have our first lesson now?”
Stephen’s sadness vanished as he smiled. “Wait till I tell Olivia I’m going to learn to read and write. She thinks she’s better than me ’cause she knows how and I don’t. But after you teach me, she’ll never be able to say that again.” The boy ran back into the house, yelling his sister’s name.
Leah shook her head slowly. She’d meant to help Stephen, but somehow she’d given Olivia another reason to dislike her.
Chapter 5
Although it was an uneasy peace, the mere routine of daily life forged a type of harmony at the Whitaker farm. In September Olivia returned to school, Joseph prepared for the apple harvest, and Leah took on more and more household duties. As the oak trees changed from green to gold, she immersed herself in the everyday chores of all farm wives. In the mornings, she cooked and cleaned; afternoons she spent in lessons with Stephen and tending the kitchen garden, and evenings, sewing and writing letters. Despite Caleb’s invitation
, Leah had declined to write, focusing instead on helping Stephen compose notes and drawings to send to his father.
She was an in-between woman. She was married, but she was not a wife. She’d come to love Stephen, but she was not a mother. And as far as Olivia was concerned, she was little more than a live-in housekeeper.
The girl rarely spoke to Leah. She ate the food Leah prepared, but during meals, she spoke only to her aunt and brother. Olivia handed her dirty laundry to Leah, accepted freshly starched and ironed clothes in return, but still frowned at Leah’s plain brown dress and severe black bonnet.
Near the end of September, Leah entered the house from the kitchen garden, her basket full of freshly picked yellow squash, and heard Olivia speaking to Rose.
“When Papa comes home, will he send Leah back to the Quakers?” the twelve-year-old asked.
“Of course not,” Rose said, disapproval evident in her voice. “Leah is your father’s new wife, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll be happy.”
“I’ll never be happy again,” Olivia protested. “Not until that ugly woman leaves this house. She’s much too tall, and she’s skinny as a blade of grass.”
Although she understood the reasons behind Olivia’s unkind words, Leah’s heart ached to hear the old slights. Too tall. Too skinny. Not pretty enough.
“That’s enough,” Rose said harshly. “Leah has done nothing to deserve such cruel words from you.”
“We don’t need her,” Olivia continued. “I can do everything she does, and I’m ten times prettier. When Papa comes home I’ll show him.”
The tone of Rose’s voice grew sterner. “I won’t listen to another word of this nonsense, Olivia Louise Whitaker. Even if you continue to refuse Leah as your stepmother, you will respect her as your father’s wife.”
“I’ll never—”
“Not another word, Olivia.”
Olivia ran through the back door, tears flowing down her blotched face. She brushed past Leah as though she were invisible and ran toward the orchard. Rose appeared in the doorway, one hand covering her mouth.
“Oh Leah,” Rose said. “I hope you didn’t…”
“Olivia is hurt and confused,” Leah replied. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent, and if my mother had remarried, I probably would have felt the same way.”
Rose clucked her tongue. “You’re too kind. If we give in to Olivia’s selfish ways, we’ll have a brat on our hands. Caleb babied the girl when her mother died, and look at her now. If Olivia is to grow into a respectable woman, I must put a stop to her bad behavior.”
“Perhaps if we give her more time—” Leah’s words died in her throat.
A peculiar, high-pitched sound traveled on the wind. “What in the world?” Rose asked.
The noise grew louder, and a spark of fear flared in Leah’s chest. Olivia was screaming. Screaming and running toward the house.
Leah dropped her basket, picked up her skirt, and ran toward the orchard. She recognized the noise that accompanied Olivia’s panicked shrieks. The humming wings of hundreds of bees, swarming around the girl.
“Get a blanket!” Leah called over her shoulder.
Rose disappeared into the house just as Olivia came into sight. Furious bees bore down on her as she tore through the brush, swatting the insects as they buried their barbs into her tender skin.
“Stop running!” Leah called.
Olivia screamed, stumbled, and fell face-first.
Leah untied her apron and threw it over the girl’s head. “Calm down, Olivia. The bees will leave once they no longer feel threatened.”
Rose hobbled toward the pair, a woolen blanket clutched to her chest. Leah took the blanket and spread it over the sobbing girl’s body. “Easy now. The bees are leaving. Take a deep breath. Let it out. Take another breath. Let it out. Nice and slow.”
Olivia’s sobs slowly receded. The bees’ constant humming subsided as they abandoned their pursuit and returned to the orchard.
Leah removed the cover and brushed away the few trapped bees that clung to the blanket. “Sit up, Olivia, and let me see if thee is stung.”
“Of course I’m stung,” the girl shouted. “Those awful bees attacked me! You brought them here, and now they’ve attacked me!”
Leah removed her prayer cap and used it to brush away the stingers. “Let’s go into the house, Olivia. I’ll make a poultice to draw out the pain.”
Olivia pushed to her feet and ran to Rose’s side. “Aunt Rose, make her take those horrible bees away. They attacked me for no reason.”
Rose lifted the girl’s hair and inspected her neck. “I don’t believe that, Olivia.”
Olivia’s blotched face turned a deeper shade of red. “Didn’t you see how those awful bees attacked me?”
“Perhaps we should talk about this after we care for your stings.”
Olivia stamped her foot. “But surely you don’t believe I did something to those bees.”
Rose’s gaze connected with Leah’s. With those words, Olivia had inadvertently admitted her guilt.
But the girl hadn’t noticed the silent communication that passed between Rose and Leah. She flung her arm toward the orchard. “I was just walking down the path that leads through the orchard when all of a sudden, for no reason at all, those terrible bees attacked me.”
Rose stepped away from the girl, as though trying to distance herself from the lies. “What did you do, Olivia?”
Olivia’s hands fisted at her sides. “I didn’t do anything. It’s Leah who should be in trouble. She’s the one who brought bee hives to our farm.”
Rose put a hand on her forehead and spoke in a voice ripe with exhaustion and frustration. “What did you do, Olivia?”
“I told you what happened!” she yelled. “Why do you keep asking me?”
Rose kept her voice calm. “Because I’m hoping you’ll find your way to the truth. Leah, perhaps you should go and check on your bees.”
Leah stepped closer to the pair. “The bees will wait. I’d like to take care of Olivia’s stings first.”
Rose put a hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Did you hear that, Olivia? Leah knows you’ve done something to her bee hives, yet she wants to take care of you. That, young lady, is Christian love. Leah is putting you before herself. I can only hope that someday you will grow into such a fine woman.”
Olivia froze like a threatened rabbit. Her bottom lip quivered, and her chest heaved with uneven breaths. She covered her face with her hands and turned her back to Leah and Rose.
Leah held her breath in anticipation of Olivia’s next move. Would the girl bend, or would she hold on to her painful anger? If she could put aside her wounded pride, love would find its way into her young heart.
Olivia’s slender shoulders shook with silent sobs. Leah walked quietly to the girl’s side. “Come inside, and let me tend to thy injuries.”
Olivia leaned toward Leah, and Leah slid her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I will mix a paste of bicarbonate and water. It draws out the pain of a bee sting and reduces the redness.
Thee will be good as new in just a little while.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to… If you’ll show me how to repair them—”
“Shh. Calm thyself, Olivia.” Leah guided the girl into the kitchen, settled her into a chair, and went to the cabinet. “I’ll see to the hives when I’m sure thee is all right.”
Rose joined Leah at the counter. “I’ll leave the two of you alone for now. Call me if I’m needed.”
Leah nodded to the older woman and mixed the paste while Olivia’s sobs abated.
“I found a big stick and knocked the skeps over,” Olivia said. “I wanted to smash them and make the bees fly away.”
Leah dampened a cloth and used it to clean the girl’s face. “I know thee is angry, Olivia. But taking out thy anger on bees wasn’t a smart thing to do.”
Olivia smiled for the first time. “I know that now. But I thou
ght if the bees left, you’d leave, too.”
Leah dabbed the paste on the girl’s many stings. “I have nowhere to go, Olivia. My aunt would take me back, but my uncle wouldn’t. Plus I made a vow before God that I would be thy father’s wife until the day I died.”
Olivia sniffed loudly. “Where are your parents?”
“With the Lord.”
Olivia sighed, as though exhaling all the anger and bitterness she’d been carrying inside since her father left. “I’m sorry, Leah.” “I know, Olivia. I know what it’s like to be left behind. I was angry, too.”
“You were angry when your parents died?”
“Oh yes.”
“Are you angry at me?”
“Do I seem angry?”
“No. But I destroyed your bee hives.”
“Bees are more resilient than thee thinks. When I finish here, I’ll go to the orchard and check on them.”
“May I come with you?”
Leah smiled at her stepdaughter. “Next time. Thee needs to rest, and the bees may need special attention. Now go upstairs and change thy clothes, and if thee finds any more stingers or swollen spots, let me know.”
“I will.” Olivia threw her arms around Leah’s neck. “Thank you, Leah.”
Leah’s heart warmed as she returned the girl’s embrace. She laid her cheek atop Olivia’s silky hair. “It will be all right. ‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ “
Olivia sniffed one last time, smiled at Leah, and ran up the stairs.
“‘All things work together for good to them that love God,’ “Leah repeated. “But only thee, Lord, would use bee stings to open a way to Olivia’s heart.”
Chapter 6
Leah retied her apron and entered the barn. Without the swallows’ constant chattering, the barn was as quiet as the meetinghouse on First Day. The little travelers had left just after the apple harvest, a sure sign the first snowfall couldn’t be far away. It was past time to harvest the honey.
Joseph carried the last box of jars into the barn and set it on the workbench next to Leah. “It’s hard to believe your bees made enough honey to fill all these jars.”
Quakers of New Garden Page 18
