Like a Bee to Honey

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  He made her feel as if life were worth living.

  Her smile grew wider. She liked him—for his kindness and forgiving heart, his eagerness and thoughtful reflection. He occupied her thoughts often enough, but lately he was in her head all the time. At the funeral of Great-Uncle Titus, whom she had barely known, her mind had been in Bienenstock in a little white farmhouse where Josiah might have been scrambling eggs or petting his dog. She pictured him with his nephews and niece, playing grizzly bear or reading them a book. It made her smile when she thought of him lying on his back under the sink with water pouring from above him, or Aunt Bitsy’s incredulous expression when he used duct tape to repair the propane lantern in the kitchen.

  Rose giggled. Josiah was so earnest, not even Aunt Bitsy had the heart to put him down, even when his attempts to fix things were woefully inadequate. He desperately wanted to do the right thing, no matter what he tried. She loved him for that.

  Or . . . what . . . she loved him for that?

  Her heart flipped over and over itself, like a ball bouncing wildly down the stairs. Did she love Josiah Yoder? Her head spun even as her heart did flips. There was too much confusion. She had no answer.

  Rose climbed the stairs and went into the room she shared with her sisters. Lily and Poppy were already in bed, but neither of them was asleep. The small lantern on the bedside table hissed quietly. Rose had always been comforted by that sound. It meant there was light in the house, and she need not be afraid.

  She removed her kapp and untwisted her braid from its bun. It was going to be a very long night. Sleep would be impossible. Maybe she should ask her sisters if they could sleep with the lantern burning all night. Of course they would agree, but it was a shameful waste of kerosene.

  “Cum and sit,” Lily said, propping herself on her elbow and patting a space on her bed for Rose. “It wonders me if you are feeling better.”

  Rose took a deep, cleansing breath and thought of Josiah. “They probably won’t come back tonight.”

  Lily grabbed onto Rose’s hand. “Of course they won’t come back tonight. Josiah, Dan, and Luke will paint the barn tomorrow, and it will be gute as new.”

  “If only it was that easy to fix everything else,” Rose said. “I have put all of you in danger. I don’t know how to make it better.”

  Poppy growled. “Whoever is causing the trouble is responsible for their own actions. No matter how angry they are, they have no cause to scare us.”

  Rose drew her brows together. “But I would feel responsible if anything happened to either of you.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Rose,” Poppy said. “And we will be all right.”

  “You broke your hand for me,” Rose said. “You were not all right.”

  Poppy looked down at her cast and turned her arm over. “That was Griff’s doing, and even he’s coming around. Someone we once feared actually sat at our table and apologized.”

  Lily shook her head. “It’s unbelievable, really.”

  “A miracle from Gotte.” Poppy reached over and squeezed Rose’s braid. “I think we can expect more miracles yet. We just have to wait for them. Gotte will provide.”

  “What do we do until then?” Rose said.

  Lily gave Rose a reassuring smile. “If we stick close together, we’ll be okay.”

  If only Rose could be so sure. “You two will be gone by the end of September.” She did her best to let them see she wasn’t trembling. “Aunt Bitsy and I will be all alone. That’s when they will come for me.”

  Lily sat up and threw her arms around Rose. Poppy moved to Lily’s bed and also wrapped her arms around Rose. She felt like a sandwich. “Nae, nae, Rose,” Lily said. “You must never even imagine such things.”

  “How will I be able to sleep in this big room all by myself? Even now, the small sounds in the middle of the night keep me awake. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  Poppy squared her shoulders. “Then we don’t get married.”

  “What?” Rose and Lily said at the same time.

  “Not until we catch the troublemaker,” Poppy said. “We postpone the weddings until we have found him.” She pushed some errant strands of hair from Rose’s face. “There’s nothing more important to us than you, Rose.”

  Lily’s eyes filled with pain, but she nodded and linked her elbow with Rose’s. “She’s right, Rose. We will stay with you.”

  Rose recoiled in alarm. “Nae. I won’t let you sacrifice your wedding day for me.”

  “It would only be putting it off until you feel safe,” Poppy said.

  Rose frowned and shook her head. “Nae. I won’t let you do it. Dan and Luke would hate me.”

  “They’d understand,” Poppy said, as if she were trying to convince herself. “And even if they didn’t, they’d have nothing to say about it. We’re sisters first.”

  “Nae,” Rose said, more adamantly this time. “I will not have you sacrifice your happiness for me.”

  “We love you. We’ll do anything to make you happy.”

  The thought of what her sisters were willing to give up pressed against her until she couldn’t breathe. To her horror, she realized that everything her sisters did was to accommodate her. Their whole lives had been centered around making her happy, and she had been very willing to let them take care of her. She was so weak that they felt compelled to sacrifice everything, even Luke and Dan, for her. At heart, she was still that spoiled little five-year-old who fussed and carried on until her parents gave her what she wanted just to shut her up.

  She stood so fast that she practically yanked Lily’s arm out of the socket. “I don’t want either of you to do anything for me. I won’t have your ruined lives on my conscience too.”

  Poppy grabbed her hand and tried to pull her back to the bed. “That’s not how we feel, Rose. We love you.”

  “Love should never demand such a sacrifice,” she said. “I won’t let you.”

  Lily stood up and tried to pull Rose into an embrace.

  Rose resisted with everything she had in her. “I need to be alone. Please let me alone.” She marched out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Farrah Fawcett was curled up on the window seat. Leonard Nimoy was curled up near Farrah Fawcett’s tail. She had obviously been prohibited from touching any part of her, but Leonard Nimoy always seemed to want to be close to Farrah Fawcett, just the same. Leonard was a persistent kitty. It wouldn’t surprise Rose if they were best of friends in the end.

  Leonard Nimoy lifted her head when Rose walked into the darkened kitchen. Trying not to disturb Farrah Fawcett, Rose scooped Leonard Nimoy onto her lap and buried her fingers in the kitten’s soft orange fur. Leonard Nimoy rested her head in her paws and went back to sleep.

  The cats wouldn’t care if she cried her eyes out. It seemed crying was the only thing she did with regularity anymore.

  With no one to see, Rose indulged in the tears. She thought about her parents and how ungrateful she was to miss them. Aunt Bitsy couldn’t have been a more loving substitute. Gotte had been gute to her, even if she hadn’t deserved it.

  A thread of light descended the stairs. Rose cradled Leonard Nimoy in her hands and tucked her knees up to her chin to make herself smaller, but it wasn’t as if Aunt Bitsy wouldn’t see her.

  Aunt Bitsy held her lantern aloft and gazed into the kitchen. “Rose Christner, you gave me the fright of my life.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Bitsy. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “It’s only nine o’clock. I can’t imagine you’ve tried very hard yet.”

  “It wouldn’t matter,” Rose said.

  Aunt Bitsy set the lantern on the counter. The light illuminated her light red hair. She hadn’t been able to quite get all the red out this morning. “I would think, with Josiah looking out, you’d be sleeping like a baby.”

  “What do you mean ‘with Josiah looking out’?”

  In her green, fuzzy slippers with googly eyeballs on the toes, Aunt Bitsy shuffled to the window, reached over
Rose, and nudged the curtain aside. “See for yourself,” she said.

  Rose set Leonard Nimoy on the window seat and stood up to look out the window. It was dark, but she could make out a figure in a straw hat sitting on the porch with his elbows propped on his knees gazing into the darkness.

  Aunt Bitsy’s lips drooped into a thoughtful frown. “He refused to leave. He’s going to spend the night on the porch.”

  “He can’t do that. He’s got a farm and pumpkins.”

  “He says he can sleep fine, but he’s only saying that to humor me.”

  “He . . . he can’t,” Rose said, the words squeezing from her throat as if she were choking. “What if someone knocks him out or slits his throat?”

  “Nothing so dire is going to happen, baby sister. Josiah wants to be here. I’ve given him a pillow, a blanket, and some duct tape, with my permission to fix whatever he wants.”

  Frustration and anger and helplessness tightened around Rose’s chest. She was truly going to suffocate. “He . . . can’t, Aunt Bitsy. He just can’t.”

  She slapped the leftover tears from her face. Josiah would not see her cry. He would not be witness to her weakness one more time today. With no prayer covering or shoes and stockings, she tore herself from Aunt Bitsy’s side, grabbed the lantern, and threw open the front door.

  Startled, Josiah jumped to his feet and turned to look at her. His gaze settled briefly on her unkempt braid before he looked into her eyes. “Rose? Is everything okay?”

  With great effort, she held back the tears and slammed the door behind her, not caring if Lily or Poppy heard it upstairs. They already knew how upset she was. “You can’t do this, Josiah. I won’t let you.”

  “Did something frighten you?”

  Oh sis yuscht! She was no match for the compassion in his eyes. How would he believe anything she said if she made a fool of herself by crying? She clamped her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to look at him, almost like a childish game of hide-and-seek—if I can’t see you, you can’t see me. “This isn’t right, Josiah. You have a farm to look after. You need your sleep.”

  She opened her eyes when he curled his fingers around her arms in that gentle touch that she had come to like too much. Why had she let him get so close to her—let him think it was okay to touch her and comfort her and save her from frightening shadows in the night? Why did those blue eyes make her want to give in to his kindness?

  “I’ll sleep better here knowing you’re safe than at home worrying myself sick.”

  She pulled away from him. An ache of longing passed across his features and stabbed her right in the heart. “You wouldn’t have to be here if I could take care of myself.”

  “You take care of yourself just fine, but someone has threatened you. I want to protect you. I need to protect you.”

  “Nae,” she said. “Don’t you see? People get hurt when they try to protect me. And then they get disappointed.”

  “Not me. That will never be me.”

  “Never is a very long time.” Since she was seven, she hadn’t raised her voice in anger to another human being, but she was practically yelling at him now. “I don’t want your help, Josiah. The shame is unbearable, and the fear is worse. You already know how weak I am, and when you help me, it just compounds my humiliation. But the fear is even bigger. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

  His eyes practically glowed with emotion. “Rose, I’d face ten Perry Glicks plus a hundred Griff Simonses for you.”

  She threw back her head and groaned. “But I don’t want you to. I can’t be responsible for you.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “Of course you didn’t, but you’re too kindhearted not to want to help me.”

  “I’m not doing this because I’m kindhearted. I’m doing this because I’m afraid for you.” He shook his head as if he hadn’t wanted to admit that. “I feel powerless, and this is all I can think of to do. It’s the only way I can have a little peace.”

  She saw the truth of his words in his eyes, but she couldn’t let him make this kind of sacrifice for her. “It’s too much, Josiah.”

  “Rose,” he said. His voice was soft and tender, and she couldn’t bear it. She wished she could plug her ears and never hear that voice again. “You have the purest, kindest heart I know. You would never turn away someone who needed your help, and you make me want to be a better man. I could never do too much for you.”

  A sob started in her throat. Ach, du lieva. She had to maintain control. Swallowing the tears, she paced persistently back and forth across the porch. “Why do you say things like that? You know I am not that person.” She began to tremble. It was at least eighty degrees outside, and she was shivering like a leaf. “I can’t do it, Josiah.”

  He tried to reach out to her, but she stepped back. The last thing she needed was the comfort of his touch to confuse her.

  The pain in his blue eyes was one more thing to feel guilty about. “Rose, this isn’t . . . I don’t understand. You’re so . . .” He heaved a long sigh. “You’re so . . .”

  Her chest ached. It was as if her parents had died all over again. “Disappointing?”

  His eyes flashed with intensity, fierce and deep. “I was going to say unselfish.”

  “You want me to be different than I am.” She turned her face from him. “And I can’t meet your expectations.”

  He took off his hat and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t expect anything.”

  “Then I think you should stay away.”

  His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. “What?”

  “You promised me that you would leave when I told you to go. Now I’m telling you. I don’t want you sleeping on my porch. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

  “I’m not in danger—”

  “You will get hurt, and I can’t live with anything else on my conscience. I don’t want you here.”

  “Rose,” he whispered. There had never been so much pain in a single word.

  “I don’t want to see you anymore,” she said between ragged breaths. It was the biggest lie, as well as the most profound truth, she had ever told.

  “Rose,” he said again. His voice sounded as if the summer had just died.

  She kept her eyes glued to the line of duct tape on the porch floor. “Denki for trusting me enough to show me the message and for letting me cry on your shoulder and get your shirt wet, but I will be okay. I want you to go.”

  She couldn’t look at him, so she couldn’t begin to guess what he was thinking. She had warned him that she would be a disappointment. Lord willing, he finally understood why. “Okay, jah,” he said, his words falling to the ground like stones. She heard, more than saw, him walk slowly down the steps. The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he made his way down the lane. Was he going to walk all the way home?

  She almost called to him. Take my horse. Take our buggy. Instead, she stood motionless on the porch listening to the fading sound of his measured footsteps.

  When she couldn’t hear even the slightest remnant of sound, she took a deep, shuddering breath. May the gute Lord forgive her for hurting the gentlest soul she’d ever known. Was it possible to feel guiltier than she already did? She’d warned him about her. In time, he’d understand how blessed he was not to have the burden of Rose Christner in his life.

  There was no reason now to choke back her tears. She sat down on the porch and bawled like she had the night her parents died, like a lost five-year-old with not even a doll to cling to for comfort. The tears burned her cheeks and her eyes felt raw, but it didn’t stop her from crying. There would never be enough tears to fill up her ocean of pain.

  It would hurt for a long time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even though there were about forty steps to making bee sting cake, it was one of Rose’s favorite things to bake, partly because it took skill to see that the cake didn’t fall and to make sure the cream filling turned out just right and to
melt the butter without burning it. But mostly she loved making Bienenstich cake because it was something the Honeybee sisters always did together.

  Poppy liked to mix the dough, and Lily always prepared the almond topping and poured it on top of the cake just before it went into the oven. Rose was the one who made the cream filling. There was a certain rhythm, almost a music, to working side by side in the kitchen with her sisters, making something delicious and beautiful to gladden someone’s heart. A bee sting cake was a glorious gift to give. When someone got a bee sting cake, they knew they were special because the sisters had spent so much time on it. The effort to make the cake was part of the gift.

  But ever since Rose had ordered Josiah off the porch, an air of anxiety had settled over the house. Everyone seemed weary and sad and unfriendly, even Aunt Bitsy, who seldom let anything put her in a bad mood. Well, a worse mood. Aunt Bitsy was always endearingly grumpy.

  “Rose,” Poppy said. “Will you cut the cake into two layers? I can’t do it with my cast.”

  Rose cut the cake, then carefully put the top layer on a platter while Lily spread the bottom layer with cream filling. Rose and Lily together lifted the other layer on top of the cream filling. It looked beautiful and delicious at the same time. They’d been baking in the kitchen all afternoon, but there hadn’t been any happy chatter or laughter like there usually was when they cooked together. Lily and Poppy tiptoed around Rose as if she were a sleeping badger. They refused to say one word about Dan or Luke, and they glanced at her out of the corners of their eyes as if they were afraid if they said anything, she would burst into tears.

  Usually, when they knew Rose was upset or worried, they tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. Lily would never fail to give her a hug, and Poppy was always willing to punch someone if Rose needed her to—even though Rose would never have dreamed of asking.

  Rose wiped a drop of cream from the plate and bit back her tears. She had never been more upset in her life, but her sisters would never know, if she could help it.