Like a Bee to Honey (17 page)

“Even though I am.”

“You aren't.”

Rose dabbed at her eyes. “You just saw me fall apart over a tub of mini mints.”

He shrugged. “Who can resist the little white sprinkles?” He leaned against her buggy. “If you want to prove your bravery, come with me and we'll do something dangerous.”

Rose's heart skipped a beat. Just one more reason to be ashamed. She had told Josiah that she didn't want his pity, but she couldn't bring herself to agree to anything dangerous, not even to prove herself.

Maybe he saw the doubt—or more likely, abject fear—in her expression. He reached out and took one of her
kapp
strings in his fingers. “There is an Amish market in Bonduel that sells those mini mints. I'll take you there, if you dare.”

“That . . . that doesn't seem very dangerous.”

“It does to someone who gets bullied at Amish markets.”

“But I don't want you to feel obligated to buy anything for me,” she said.

“Who said anything about buying something for you? You'll have to pay for your own mints.” He winked at her. “After the market, we could take your mints to the lake and stick our toes in the water.”

“That doesn't seem very dangerous either.”

He grinned. “You never know what creatures are lurking in the lake. Maybe a fisherman will row by and give us a ride in his boat. Would that be dangerous enough?”

The way he was looking at her made her warm yet shivery all over. She could maybe do a boat, if it was small and wasn't a motorboat. And if they didn't go too fast. If Josiah knew how to swim so he could rescue her if she fell in. Or maybe they could stay very close to the shore so that if the boat tipped, she wouldn't go in over her head.

She nodded. “Okay.”

He bloomed into a smile. “Okay?”

She nodded again, hoping to reassure herself more than him. She hadn't done so well at Glick's Family Market, but at least she'd tried. Josiah would be with her if she needed him, and his presence would lend her courage. She might even get in that boat.

As long as she had a life jacket.

Chapter Eleven

Josiah couldn't stop whistling. He whistled while he gathered eggs and made breakfast. He whistled while he mucked out the barn and milked the cow. He whistled as he hitched up Max to the courting buggy, and he whistled on the road to Rose's house. He would have to stop whistling once he got to the Honeybee Farm. He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and he might very well scare Rose away with his sour notes.

For the first time ever, he had allowed his hopes to run wild. Monday had quite possibly been the best day of his life. It hadn't started out that way. When he had walked into Glick's Market and seen how Paul was treating Rose, he had almost lost his composure. The temptation to chastise Paul Glick, angrily and righteously, was almost overpowering.

Thank the
gute
Lord he had kept his temper, but his instinct to protect Rose had almost made him irrational. Her tears were the sight he hated most in the whole world.

Rose had dropped her buggy off at home, and they had taken his courting buggy to the Lark Country Store in Bonduel, where the owners were much friendlier than Paul and Perry Glick. They had bought a tub of mini mints for Rose and a tub of licorice for Josiah. He liked the colorful licorice with black and yellow stripes and pink circles. Rose had crinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue when he let her taste a piece.

They had spent over an hour in the Lark Country Store, looking at books and clocks, trying on hats and aprons, and making each other laugh. Rose's laugh was probably his favorite thing in the whole world. Her laughter meant she wasn't afraid or worried. It meant she was happy. Rose deserved to be happy.

Along with their mints and licorice, they had bought graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows and driven to one of the camping spots near the lake. Josiah had built a fire and whittled some roasting sticks with his pocketknife. Then they had roasted marshmallows for s'mores. With Rose sitting next to him and gifting him with her smile, the s'mores were quite possibly the best thing he had ever eaten.

When they were done, Rose had made him stamp out the fire and then pour water onto the smoking coals. They didn't have a bucket for water, so Josiah had emptied all his licorice into his pockets and used the empty licorice tub to scoop water from the lake and douse the fire.

After that, they had kicked off their shoes and sat on the edge of the lake to watch the sunset. That pained, uneasy expression that Rose often wore hadn't appeared once. They had talked about his parents and her parents and how Rose loved to paint more than anything. Josiah had thought about how he loved looking at Rose more than anything. She told him about her bees and how the bees came to know her so that she didn't even have to wear gloves by the end of the season. They talked about cats and her sisters and even Paul Glick.

It never ceased to amaze Josiah how forgiving Rose was. Even after Paul had treated her so poorly, she'd still forgiven him and hoped he could learn to be happy without Lily and without the Honeybee
schwesters'
honey. She sincerely longed for him to find peace instead of worrying about profits. Josiah couldn't see that happening, but Rose believed in the goodness of everybody.

By the time he had brought her home, he had fallen more deeply in love with her than ever.

He practically leaped from his buggy and bounded across the flagstone path that led to the house. He'd raced through his chores this morning so he could spend the afternoon with Rose—maybe take her to the lake. Maybe just sit and watch her as she painted or made bread. He didn't even have an excuse to give Aunt Bitsy for his visit.

Unless being madly in love was a
gute
excuse.

Even that excuse probably wasn't
gute
enough for Bitsy.

The body of a small bird sat on the welcome mat, its feathers askew, its mouth open in what was probably its last scream. Billy Idol usually left mice on the doorstep. A bird was rarer. Josiah picked the poor creature up and carefully laid it under one of the bushes next to the porch. The sight of a dead bird would surely upset Rose.

Josiah knocked on the door, and it creaked open wide enough for Bitsy to poke the barrel of her shotgun through. Josiah gasped and took a cautious step backward. It would be
gute
if Bitsy's finger didn't slip and blow a hole through his chest. That would sort of ruin his day.

“Oh, it's you,” Bitsy said, nudging the door open wider with the gun barrel. “I suppose I'm glad to see you.” She set the gun down and propped it against the wall.

Josiah's eyebrows probably flew off his forehead. Bitsy's hair was no longer a lovely pastel shade of pink or blue. It was a bright, fire-engine red, as if she'd stuck her head in a can of paint and swirled it around. Not only that, but three-inch plastic skeleton earrings dangled from her ears. “Whoa, horsey!” he said, too shocked to temper his reaction. “What happened to your hair?” Quickly recovering himself, he stretched a smile across his face and pretended he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. “I mean, that is a very nice color, Bitsy.”

Bitsy seemed more annoyed than usual. “I colored it this morning,” she said, stepping back so Josiah could come in. She slammed the door behind him. “I've never done it quite so dark before. I was hoping it would make me feel like Wonder Woman, but I look ridiculous. It will be gone by the time the girls get back tomorrow morning.”

Josiah deflated like a flat bicycle tire. “Rose isn't here?”

Bitsy fiddled with the skeleton in her right ear. “They went to a funeral in Cashton. A van came and picked them up last night, and they'll be home tomorrow around noon.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Who died?”

“Their great-onkel Titus on their
fater
's side. I didn't know him, and they barely knew him either, but they thought they should go. There wasn't an opportunity to let anyone know. Even Dan and Luke don't know.”

Ach, vell.
He wouldn't be seeing Rose today, but he should probably make the most of being here. Leonard Nimoy sidled up against Josiah's leg, so Josiah knelt down and petted her. “Is there anything you want me to fix while I'm here?”

“Nae.”
Bitsy's frown looked as if someone had drawn dark lines on her face to match her dark hair. “But there's something that I want you to see.” She picked up her shotgun as she motioned toward the door. “
Cum
outside.”

Josiah's heart felt heavy without his even knowing why. Maybe it was the way Bitsy looked at him. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't want him to fix anything. She was usually so happy when he offered to fix things around her house. Maybe it was because her knuckles were white around her shotgun. Josiah had a feeling he didn't want to know why she brought the shotgun with her.

Leonard Nimoy and even Farrah Fawcett followed them out the door. Billy Idol joined their procession as they marched across the flagstones. Josiah felt even worse. It must be serious if Farrah Fawcett could be stirred from her window seat.

Bitsy's hair was a torch leading the way as they tromped toward the back of the barn. “Please tell me it's not the chicken coop,” he said. The troublemakers had destroyed the Honeybee sisters' chicken coop a few weeks ago, and Luke and Poppy had rebuilt it. Rose would be upset if they had chopped down the coop again.

Bitsy's earrings clicked softly as she shook her head.

Josiah breathed a sigh of relief. Behind the barn, the chicken coop stood straight and secure, and two or three chickens pecked at the ground at Josiah's feet. Nothing looked out of place or amiss. Maybe whatever Bitsy was concerned about had nothing to do with the troublemakers.

Farrah Fawcett padded past the chickens and found a comfortable spot beneath the chicken coop to lounge. The chickens ignored her. They'd had enough experience to know they were in no danger of being chased by the white cat. Billy Idol crouched and crept toward a large black hen scratching in the dirt. When Billy Idol got close enough, the hen squawked and flapped her wings before running around the side of the barn and out of sight. Leonard Nimoy acted as if she wanted to make friends with the chickens but was afraid she'd get pecked to death. She kept her distance.

Bitsy pressed her lips together and pointed up behind Josiah's head. Dread filled him at the look on her face. He turned around. In letters three feet high, someone had spray-painted a message on the back side of the barn.

“I think they put it here in hopes that Rose would see it before we painted over it, like we have the others,” Bitsy said.

Josiah's blood turned to ice, and his legs could no longer support him. He felt as if he were falling from a very high place into a dark abyss. He grabbed onto the edge of the chicken coop to keep himself upright.

Bitsy rested her gun against the barn wall, took Josiah's hand, and guided him to sit on the wide edge of the chicken coop. He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Bitsy bent over to make eye contact and rubbed her hand up and down his arm. Even that uncharacteristic show of sympathy didn't help. How could anything help?

“It's going to be okay, Joe.”

“How . . . how can you say that? Rose is in danger. Aren't you frightened?”

She shook her head. The skeletons in her ears looked as if they were dancing on top of her shoulders. “I'm angry. Very angry. It's lucky I didn't catch the cowards painting my barn last night. I would have been tempted to shoot them, and I don't think I'd do well in prison. Orange isn't my color.”

Josiah wanted to throw up. “I don't know what to do. Tell me what I should do. Why would anyone want to hurt Rose?”

Bitsy heaved a great sigh. “I think I know who has been making all the trouble.”

Josiah snapped his head up. “You do?”

“Although if they really want to punish who is responsible, they should blame me, not my Rosie.”

Josiah thought he might jump out of his skin. “Who are we looking for?”

“I will let Rose decide whether she wants to tell you. I think she's afraid you will reject her. So many people have let her down.”

He grabbed both of Bitsy's hands. “You know I would never, ever hurt Rose, don't you?”

“
Jah.
I know,” Bitsy said.

A lump grew at the back of his throat. “
Denki
for your trust in me.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” she said, pulling her hands from his grasp. She didn't seem like the type who liked to be touched, even in an emergency. “You've gone through three whole rolls of duct tape, and you want to take my little girl from me. The whole situation makes me a little suspicious. And a little testy.”

Josiah stared at her in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not blind, young man, and I didn't just fall off the turnip truck.”

He shook his head. Nothing got past Bitsy Kiem. “Then you understand why I'm so upset.”

“So am I. If Rose wants you to know who hates her this much, she'll have to tell you herself.”

Josiah stood up. “I thank the
gute
Lord that she wasn't here this morning and that we still have time to paint the barn before she gets back. I'll go buy some paint. Do you have a tall ladder?”

Bitsy narrowed her eyes until they were almost closed. “I think Rose needs to see it first.”

“Needs to see what?”

“This message. Rose should see it before you paint it.”

A fierce, protective emotion filled Josiah's chest, as if he were a wolf guarding his den from predators. “Absolutely not.”

“We've hid too many things from her.”

Josiah couldn't believe what he was hearing from Rose's own aunt. “Don't you realize what this would do to her? She'd be terrified.”

Bitsy folded her arms. “
Jah,
she would, but she doesn't want us to treat her like a baby. We should think about what is best for Rose.”

Josiah's voice rose with his agitation. “I
am
thinking about what is best for her. Her greatest desire is to not be afraid anymore.”

“We've got to tell her, Josiah. The secrets don't make her happy.”

He paced frantically in front of the chicken coop. “What she doesn't know won't hurt her.”

“Maybe we only think it doesn't hurt her,” Bitsy said, as if she really knew. As if she should decide what was best for Rose.

Josiah's chest tightened as anger and fear squeezed the air out of his lungs. “
Nae
, Bitsy. We can't tell her. I won't allow it.” He slapped his hand against the side of the barn. “I will not allow it.”

“Josiah Yoder,” Bitsy said, as if she were scolding a naughty schoolboy. “Your anger will not help my Rosie.”

Josiah stopped pacing, backed into the barn wall, and sank to the ground, breathless and spent as if he'd just swum the length of Lake Michigan. He covered his face with his hands. “I'm sorry, Bitsy. I am not one to lose my temper like that. But don't you see? I know Rose. She'll be so frightened she won't be able to eat or sleep. She can't know. She just can't know.”

Bitsy knelt on the ground in front of him, nudged his hand from his eyes, and cupped her hands on either side of his face. “You think I don't know what it will do to my little girl? You're so arrogant that you think you know her better than I do?”

He took a deep, quivering breath. “Of course I don't.”

The emotion in her eyes was so intense, a weaker person might have looked away. With the skeleton earrings and the flaming-red hair, she looked fierce indeed, but Josiah held her gaze, waiting to be chastised for his arrogance.