Sweet as Honey

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  When Paul talked about Aunt Bitsy like that, Lily usually swallowed her indignation and changed the subject. Paul didn’t like confrontation. It made him unhappy. He was never one to pick a fight.

  Another reason she didn’t deserve him.

  Maybe she was hungry or worried about the family finances or fed up with Raymond Glick’s harsh judgments, but for Aunt B’s sake, she dared to scold him. “I won’t listen to talk like that, Paul, not from someone who is supposed to be my friend.” And future husband.

  His nostrils flared in surprise, and he set his fork down even though he hadn’t finished eating. “Of all the stuff, Lily. I’m just telling the truth. You know how I despise pride.”

  She should have let it drop, smooth things over so Paul wouldn’t realize how upset she was. But, ach du lieva, even Dan Kanagy, mean Dan Kanagy, liked Aunt B’s light blue hair. She slammed her accounts book shut. “Pride? Who is the one at this table who thinks they’re better than Aunt B? Thou shalt not judge.”

  A headache throbbed at the base of her skull. She really shouldn’t accuse him of pride. When the dust settled, she’d be apologizing to him for days.

  To her surprise, the sullen expression on his face shifted. He must have realized he’d crossed some sort of line. He tried to backpedal, but he didn’t do it very well, probably because she’d never seen him backpedal in his life. “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean it. Your aunt can color her hair purple for all I care. You don’t have to get in such a tizzy about it. Of all the stuff!”

  Lily stood up, unsatisfied with Paul’s weak apology and her own behavior. Blessed are the meek. How could she have forgotten herself like that? She should probably apologize right now and get it over with, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Let Paul gloat over her some other day.

  She turned on her heel and marched to the door. To her utter amazement, Paul chased after her. He must have seen how serious she was or he never would have left a perfectly good bite of biscuit and a pool of gravy on his plate. “Lily, okay, Lily. You shouldn’t be angry. It’s a sin.”

  She stopped before she opened the door and slumped her shoulders. He was right. How could she leave like a pouty child who hadn’t gotten her way? They should be able to talk things over like two people in love were supposed to talk. “I’m sorry. I should hold my temper.”

  “Jah, you should.”

  “But I wish you wouldn’t speak badly of my aunt.”

  “I forgive you, and I hope you’ll forgive me for upsetting you.” He patted her cheek. “You see. I’m humble enough to admit I upset you.”

  “Denki.”

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I always want to speak the truth between us, Lily, but I suppose some things are better left unsaid.”

  “I suppose they are.”

  He opened the door for her, and they walked outside.

  “I won’t see you Sunday at gmay,” he said. “My fater is preaching in another district, and we are going with him.”

  “Okay,” she said, not really listening. She just wanted to go home and repent. Maybe write Paul a long and earnest letter of apology. Sometimes she wished she could start a day over again.

  “You can walk back to your buggy okay, can’t you?” Paul said. He no doubt wanted to get back to his gravy.

  “Jah. You finish eating.”

  “My blood sugar always does better that way.”

  Mahlon and Moses Zook passed them on the sidewalk, each holding a half-eaten doughnut in their hands. They’d been to Yutzy’s doughnut stand.

  “Hello,” Mahlon said. “Have you tasted these doughnuts? They’re so soft.”

  “My mamm’s rolls are even softer,” Paul said.

  Moses nodded and grinned. “Your mamm’s rolls are my favorite. I eat them with Honeybee Sisters honey.”

  Mahlon motioned toward the restaurant. “Did you eat?”

  Well, one of them had.

  “Biscuits and gravy,” Paul said. “No one makes them as gute as my mamm. There’s still some left if you go in before the dinner rush.”

  “We already had supper.” Mahlon held up his doughnut. “This is dessert.”

  Moses took another bite of doughnut. “Did you ever find your croquet ball at the gathering, Lily?” He said it with a grin, knowing perfectly well that she had found Dan Kanagy along with her ball in the bushes.

  “Denki for being so concerned. I was never going to win that game anyway. It was better I dropped out.”

  “At least you got a ride home out of it,” Moses said.

  She could practically see Paul’s ears perk up. “What ride?”

  Mahlon slapped Moses on the back. “We’ve got to get to the harness shop if we ever want to get that field sown today.”

  Moses nodded. He waved his doughnut at Lily as he and his brother marched away toward the harness and tack shop. “We’ll see you at gmay.”

  Paul concentrated on Lily’s face as if he were trying to read tiny letters written on her forehead. “You said you weren’t going to the gathering.”

  Actually, Paul hadn’t bothered to check with her before he had told Dan she wouldn’t be at the gathering. Lily clenched her teeth and did her best to quell the fire that flared to life. Paul didn’t deserve her anger. He was only asking a question. Why was she so out of sorts with him? “I, uh . . . I decided to go. Rose wouldn’t go unless Poppy and I went with her. You know how nervous she gets.”

  Paul intensified his gaze. “You’ve got to stop babying her, Lily. If Rose is ever going to learn to be a good wife, she has to be brave enough to go to gatherings by herself.”

  Lily nibbled on her bottom lip and reminded herself there was no reason to be mad at Paul. “It makes Rose happy when we come.”

  “Who drove you home?”

  Lily wouldn’t have answered that question for a whole set of Carol Ryrie Brink novels. “Paul, I need to go. I’m reading to the children at school and then I have to run to Coblenzes and see how their dat is doing. Poppy made them a cake. And then I’m off to the—”

  “Lily.” Paul narrowed his eyes and scrunched his lips together, the look he gave her when he got ready to scold her for something. “Moses said you got a ride out of it. What did he mean?”

  “I . . . Moses sent my croquet ball into the bushes. I happened upon Dan Kanagy, and he offered to drive me home.”

  He stuck out his bottom lip so far he could have caught raindrops with it. “You let Dan Kanagy take you home?”

  “He took Poppy and Rose too.”

  “He’s a cheat, Lily. He calls you bad names. He said you were hesslich, ugly. How could you have agreed to a ride home?”

  The word ugly felt like a little pinch, on purpose. “You weren’t there, and we needed a ride.”

  “If I had known you would accept a ride from Dan Kanagy, I would have come to the gathering and taken you home myself. He could have hurt your feelings.”

  “It’s okay, Paul. It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but he was nothing but nice.”

  The corners of Paul’s mouth seemed to droop all the way to his toes. “Nice? He didn’t call you names?”

  She lowered her eyes. The buggy ride had been nice up until the last minute. “Jah, he did.”

  “I thought so.”

  “But he talked to Rose, and Rose talked to him, and he reads beekeeping books.”

  “So what. Anybody can read a beekeeping book.”

  Anybody could; not everybody did. Sighing, she wrapped both arms around her accounts book and hugged it to her. “Maybe it’s time we forgave him, Paul. He’s probably sorry for what he’s done.”

  Paul stuck that lip out again. “Forgive him? You might still be holding a grudge, Lily, but I’m not. I forgave Dan and his family almost before they cheated us. But I haven’t forgotten, and you’d be wise not to forget either. If you forget how he hurt you, you’re inviting him to hurt you again. That’s why I don’t forget. I don’t want to be tricked, and I don’t want him to insult you. A
boy like Dan will put you down over and over again.”

  Lily nibbled on her bottom lip. Dan had used his charm on her in the buggy and then when her guard was down, he’d called her Amtrak. Paul was right. She should forgive, but she shouldn’t forget.

  “I’m sorry I let Dan take me home,” she said, more out of a need to placate Paul than actual regret for doing it. She’d rather he not stew over it.

  He took a deep breath as his annoyance came to rest. “From now on, I don’t want you to go to gatherings without me.” His attempt at a smile came out more like a grimace. “I’m jealous when another boy takes you home.”

  “I wouldn’t want a boy who’s never jealous.”

  He didn’t stick his bottom lip out again, but he was definitely pouting. “You wouldn’t make me jealous on purpose, would you?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t play with your emotions like that.” She glanced at the sky. “I’ve got to go, Paul. I’m due at the school at one thirty.”

  He rubbed his hands together as if he were eager to get moving himself. “Okay then. I’ll walk you to your buggy.”

  “No need. Go finish your dinner.”

  “What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you walk by yourself? We don’t spend enough time together as it is.”

  He motioned for her to lead the way, and she tried not to let the shock show on her face. He never walked her back unless he happened to be going that way already.

  Paul had willingly left gravy on his plate.

  Her riding home with Dan must have shaken his confidence.

  It had certainly shaken hers.

  Chapter Eleven

  Willing his heart to slow down, Dan tucked the large roll under his arm and tapped on the Christners’ door. He obviously didn’t have a very strong will, because his pulse kicked into a gallop at the mere feel of Lily’s door beneath his knuckles.

  He didn’t even know if she’d be home. He hoped like crazy she’d be home, but he had really come to see Bitsy. Just like the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, if he wanted Lily to notice him, he’d have to go through Aunt Bitsy.

  Bitsy opened the door with a suspicious look on her face and her hand on the shotgun leaning against the wall.

  “Hullo, Bitsy,” Dan said, smiling and resisting the powerful urge to glance at the gun. It wasn’t loaded, was it?

  Bitsy wore a cherry-red apron over a bright purple dress with her hair tied up in a blindingly fluorescent pink scarf. The scarf wasn’t unusual. Many Amish women wore a scarf instead of a kapp when they did chores. The color was a bit outrageous, but Dan liked it—something festive to wear to do ordinary work.

  He tried not to gawk at her hair. He could have sworn the salt-and-pepper gray had been tinted blue. Today it was a shade of lime green—light and subtle—but definitely green.

  Bitsy sighed and arched one eyebrow. “She must have fed you.”

  “What?”

  “The last time you were here, Lily fed you, didn’t she?”

  “Uh.” He had to stop and think. “Jah. She gave me two cookies. I finished them off before I got to the end of your lane. They were delicious.”

  Her other eyebrow rose to meet the first, and she nodded as if she had the mysteries of the world figured out. “If you feed a stray cat . . .”

  A heavenly smell wafted from the kitchen. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Ach, nae,” she said, looking skyward as if she were holding a silent conversation with someone up there. “I’ve been lounging on the couch eating ice cream and waiting for suitors to show up.”

  Dan chuckled. “What I meant was, I hope I’m a welcome interruption.”

  She smirked, but there was good humor in her face. Ach. If only he could read the thoughts behind those eyes. “I won’t know if you’re a welcome interruption until I know why you’ve come. I don’t think you’re worth burning the muffins for.”

  “Please, don’t let your muffins burn on my account.”

  “If you’re looking for one of the girls, they’re gone. Poppy and Rose are thinning apples, and Lily is in town talking business with Paul.”

  Dan did his best not to let his smile droop. He should have expected Lily would be with Paul. He couldn’t let it bother him. This whole attempt to get Lily’s attention was probably futile, and if he got upset about Lily spending time with Paul, he’d be perpetually miserable.

  Bitsy must have seen the shadow pass across his face. “So. You’re here to see Lily.” Her eyebrows inched higher. “You know she’s got a boyfriend?”

  Dan took a deep breath and let the word boyfriend wash over him. Miserable. He’d be eternally miserable if he didn’t discipline his feelings. He pulled the paper-covered roll from under his arm. “Actually, I’m here to see you. I brought you something.”

  Bitsy seemed resigned to the possibility of burned muffins. She propped her hands on her hips and eyed him as if she were trying to count his nose hairs. “You’re a smart boy, Dan Kanagy. And persistent. I’ll give you that.” She stared at him for a few uncomfortable seconds before stepping back from the doorway. “Come in then,” she said, “and let’s see what you’ve got to say for yourself.”

  The Christners’ fluffy white cat lazed on the window seat as if she’d been there all day. She probably had.

  Leaving him standing just inside the doorway, Bitsy went into the kitchen, slid two chunky oven mitts onto her hands, and opened the oven. She pulled out a tin of golden-brown muffins and set it on the cooking rack next to the stove. “You’re off the hook for the muffins,” she said.

  “They smell delicious.”

  She peeled off her oven mitts and shook her finger at him as if he were a naughty little boy. “Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t feed strays.”

  Was he a stray?

  Before he could decide the answer to that question, the tattoo on her wrist diverted his attention. Last week, it was a honeybee, and it had been on her left wrist. This week, it was a purple butterfly on her right wrist. It matched her dress perfectly. He stole a look at her other wrist to see if maybe he’d missed the butterfly last time.

  Nope. The honeybee has disappeared.

  How had she managed a traveling tattoo?

  He laid his bundle on the table and hoped against hope she’d like it. Despite her vivid attire and butterfly tattoo, she seemed like a person who would appreciate a practical gift.

  Bitsy turned the muffins out of the tin, righted them on the cooking rack, and wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the fridge handle. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He stepped aside and let her unwrap the paper from around the roll of mesh. “Hardware cloth,” she said. He might have detected a little lilt in her voice. “What size?”

  “Eight mesh. The bees can’t fit, but the Varroa mites fall right through. It’s the most useful size for a beekeeper.” He cleared his throat, trying not to get carried away by his eagerness. “At least that’s what it says in the book I got from the library.”

  Her lips curled so slightly, he wasn’t sure he’d actually seen it. “Jah. I know all about hardware cloth.”

  His breathing grew rapid and his stomach tied itself into a complicated knot. Maybe she liked it. Maybe she would tell Lily what a thoughtful young man he was. Maybe she’d give her blessing to their happy marriage.

  Whoa there. He was getting ahead of himself. Far ahead. Five counties ahead. His heart did cartwheels in Minnesota. Bitsy hadn’t even thanked him. Maybe she had rolls and rolls of number eight mesh already stored in her shed. Maybe she despised hardware cloth and shot any boy who presumed to bring it onto the property.

  But there was something in the twist of her lips and the glint of her eye that told him he might be on the right track, at least with Bitsy. Who knew what kind of a track he was on with Lily? Probably the railroad track, and he was tied to it.

  “So tell me, young man, why am I the lucky one to get hardware cloth?�
�� Bitsy folded her arms and looked at him as if she already knew the answer to her own question.

  “I hoped it might be something you could use.”

  “Jah. We can use it,” she said.

  “Lily has agreed to discuss Where the Red Fern Grows with me. I thought mesh would be a nice thank-you gift.”

  Bitsy looked like a cat stalking an unsuspecting mouse. “What else?”

  He’d been afraid of this. What if Bitsy grilled him until she forced him to admit that he was in love with Lily and that he’d buy her a whole buggy full of mesh if it would make her like him better? His lungs got tight, and he had to squeeze air out of them to speak. “I . . . I want to get to know your family better.”

  She looked at him sideways. “What if my family doesn’t want to get to know you better? What if my family has a boyfriend?”

  Ach du lieva, she knew! Why had he ever imagined he could pull one over on Aunt Bitsy? He curled his lips in feigned innocence. “I’m hoping this mesh will soften you up?”

  “I’m always impressed by a boy who knows his meshes.”

  Dan snapped his head around as the door opened, and the girl of his dreams entered in a pretty gray dress. Okay, the dress wasn’t pretty, but the girl inside sure was. His heart tripped all over itself, and it was all he could do to keep from shouting her name out loud.

  He’d made a fool of himself with his eagerness once. He wasn’t about to do it again. He leaned his elbow casually against the butcher-block island. It wasn’t as tall as he’d anticipated and his torso bent awkwardly in an attempt to strike a natural pose. Yep. He looked like an idiot, but it was too late to unbend himself now without seeming more foolish. “Lily,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Surprise? She lived here. How surprised could he be at seeing her in her own home? He mentally pounded his head against the wall.

  Lily was the one who looked surprised, as if a visit from the deacon would have been less of an intrusion. “Dan,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  Bitsy picked up the mesh roll. “You fed him cookies.”

  “I thought you might need some hardware cloth,” he said, pushing away from the butcher block and unkinking his back.