An Amish Flower Farm

by Mindy Steele

  “I hope I didn’t startle you.” Startle was too kind a word for what she was feeling. “Weather seems to be warming up.” He sounded uncertain, lacking his normal confidence. Not that she paid him much mind, because she didn’t...much. She’d simply noticed over the years that he chatted with others without a care, laughed out loud when something struck him as funny, and a handful of times over the years, had even offered her a thank you for a glass of something to drink. None of which Belinda dared to respond to. Not after the way he used to stare at her all the time when they were in school.

  Ten years should be long enough to forgive the foolish antics of boys. Forgiveness was the center of their faith, and it was a tenet she worked hard to practice. But while she could forgive, she couldn’t so easily forget. She might have grown out of those urges to run away, but the urge was never far from her thoughts, especially right now.

  Adam kicked a clod of dirt and stared at the sky. He clearly wasn’t leaving.

  “Jah,” She tried on a smile—Mamm insisted that all hellos needed a smile attached—but it felt like a grimace. Smiles that weren’t genuine took a lot of effort.

  “Mica said I could find you here.” Of course he did. She released a slow sigh. Why were her siblings disrupting her quiet life so? Stirring a pot with nothing in it made no sense at all. Her stomach twisted a bit tighter, part nerves and part anger with her brother. She focused on weeding a row around a patch of young zinnias. If she was going to take seriously this new venture Daed had dropped into her lap, she needed all the flowers she could grow. Once she figured out a way to sell them without going to town, that was. One problem at a time, she told herself. Get rid of your neighbor, first.

  “These look nice.” His blue eyes glanced about. He looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt.

  “Your bees think so.” Belinda continued weeding, though she had barely a weed to pull, and began searching them out desperately.

  “What are they?”

  “Delphinium,” she muttered, wondering why he cared. Adam was taller than she remembered. Seeing him across the road, tending to his hives and the family’s few horses and head of cattle, she hadn’t noticed how he’d grown. Though he’d never been short, either. Tall and handsome, that was Adam Hostetler, though he was nothing like his friend Tobias, a well-known flirt. Adam went to gatherings when he was sixteen until after his baptism, but never showed signs of holding an interest in anyone, including her dear friend Nelly, who used to go starry-eyed any time Adam drew near. Then last spring Belinda had watched him drive Susanne Zook home from church. Her friend Salina had told her Susanne had even been so forward as to ask him for that ride home. Belinda could never have spoken to a man so brazenly. In fact, speaking to one at all right now was making her itchy. And this one just stood there, disturbing her quiet. If one of them didn’t say something soon, would he keep standing there?

  What did one say to someone who never spoke to you? She could ask about his father. “How is Atlee?” Her gaze slid toward him again, cautiously. His long legs traveled some distance to a pair of narrow hips before his torso fanned out again into two broad shoulders. She swallowed back the sudden awareness of him. What had made her look, she couldn’t say. All this talk of courting and time having limits, peppered with an active imagination, perhaps. Certainly, not something she would’ve usually done.

  “Better, now that he is home. His leg was broken in four places.” He removed his hat and ran his hands over his sandy hair. “They had to put pins and screws in it.” His sharp brows gathered, but his eyes remained fixed on her. He looked to be searching for something—her birthmark maybe. She returned her focus to the imaginary weeds.

  “The doctor says he will have a long road ahead,” he added. She felt for Atlee Hostetler and for Ada, who would be taking care of him. It was no small duty to care for others, and Atlee would need months of care. “Mamm says danki for the dishes your family sent over. It was kind of you.”

  Belinda nodded. Tabitha had delivered the dishes before going to work over two weeks ago. If “Thank you” was his purpose for coming over today, he could’ve knocked on the door and delivered it straight to Mammi. She lifted one shoulder higher, hiding the mark, not gifting him the chance to see it clearly, say something cold. Adam might not have teased her about it like most, but the way he stared had hurt nearly as much. Avoiding him had worked for years, so why was he here, staring at her again? And where was Mica? She could always depend on Mica to know when he was needed.

  Adam moved through the garden and she watched his steps weave through her flowers, until he was facing her straight on, leaving her more uneasy than ever.

  “I heard your parents are staying the summer in Kentucky to help with your dawdi.” His voice really was deeper than she remembered, rusty, and maybe tired. Not as deep as Caleb Esh’s, but weighty enough to unsettle the air, force things to attention.

  She nodded, declining to reply. It was none of Adam’s business how long her parents would be gone. Just thinking of her parents again made her think of her grandfather. Mamm had left another message on the answering machine last night saying Dawdi was in good spirits and eating better, but the doctor’s prognosis was still the same. Without treatments, his time was narrowed down to a painfully small number. Four months. That was all he was expected to have. Of course Daed had no intention of leaving his side for a single day of them. It would be a hard summer without her parents around to see things done well, but nothing was more important than what her parents were doing.

  “I heard that he stopped taking his treatments,” he said with genuine empathy. “I’m sorry.”

  Biting her lip, she managed another courteous nod. She wasn’t about to cry in front of Adam Hostetler. Belinda focused on the flowers. Another stretch of quiet lingered, only broken by an owl clearing his throat before nightfall. Adam remained, hovering like a schoolmaster. Normally people found her too quiet, too skittish, for them to be comfortable in her company for long. They said their hellos and went on their way. Even Noel Christner was learning to stop wasting time on her. She’d even given him a full on “No thank you” the last time he’d asked to take her home. Tabitha had been awfully happy that Belinda had been brave. Could she be brave now and perhaps tell Adam to go? She mentally shook her head. She was shy, but not purposely rude.

  Taking a deep breath, Belinda spoke, though she didn’t dare give him eye contact. “Is there something you need?”

  “I just wanted to stop by, say hello.” His tone was uncertain. Lying was a sin, and yet, Belinda was certain she’d heard just one.

  “Why?” she asked, befuddled.

  “Would you like me to go?”

  Yes, I would. She could be in the house in ten seconds flat. His head tilted toward her and she dared another glance. He didn’t look like he was here to spy on her ugliness or tease about her singing in the garden. In fact, Adam looked worried.

  “You never came to say hello before.” Where did that come from?

  Adam’s eyes widened into something looking a whole lot like surprise. His unease did wonders to nurture her confidence.

  “I don’t like making you uncomfortable,” he said. Did he not? “And the distance is the same, both ways.” He quirked a brow, bringing with it a one-sided grin. Something in that smile caught her off guard. Adam Hostetler was handsome, no denying that, but it wasn’t like Belinda had ever thought about going across the road, knocking on the door, and saying, Hi, we went to school together. I see you every day and you see me, but I wanted to be the one who said hello first. No, she never once thought about doing that.

  “Well,” she said, and hated the slight tremble in her voice. “I’ve got work to do, and I have an early morning.”

  Chapter Five

  Adam knew he was going about everything all wrong, and Belinda looked about two cows from a conniption. But at least she wasn’t running away, which was
what he’d been expecting. To think that all these years he’d worried about her sensitivity, when all he had to do was march over here and strike up a conversation. To be sure, it was an uncomfortable one, but she had in fact spoken to him.

  “I could use your help,” he said.

  “Help?” Her perfectly lined brows gathered, but she still refused to look at him. If he had a pet peeve, it was someone refusing to make eye contact when talking to others. It seemed so dismissive, as if she wanted to emphasize that she cared more about some green leaves with not a bloom showing than talking to him. He had half a mind to walk away, leave her to her precious flowers. If he wasn’t so desperate, he would have, too.

  He shifted his stance, faced her. It was now or never. “I took work at the mill to manage Daed’s medical expenses, and I al-ready work part-time helping Ivan on the side. That leaves me with not enough time for my hives. I’ve asked friends and even Mica if they could help with the honey harvest, but none have the time to spare.”

  “But Atlee got hurt at that mill.” Her voice trembled slightly.

  Adam was stunned. Was Belinda concerned, for him—for his safety at the mill? That was a silly thought, and he quickly squashed it.

  “Tobias has helped you before,” Belinda said in a voice barely audible, still not giving him the courtesy of her full attention.

  “He’s helping at the mill for the summer and tending to his daed’s cattle, and he only helped pull frames for a few days one fall.” In fact, Tobias had fooled around more than he’d helped. How did she know about that, anyway?

  “Susanne?” Belinda suggested. Adam bristled. She must not have heard of the breakup, keeping to herself as she did.

  “She’s allergic,” he said, before clenching his jaw tight. Or at least, that was what she’d always told him when he’d tried to get her to help. Susanne was certainly not interested in bees, him, or anything resembling work. Just Jerimiah Petersheim.

  “Is she.” It didn’t sound like a question. “You’re a beekeeper and courting someone who is allergic to bees.”

  He couldn’t help but be taken by surprise again. Belinda Graber was more practiced in sarcasm than he’d expected. He hadn’t expected that...or that he might like it. Here, in her garden, surrounded by familiarities, she was different. And even though her words were unexpected, Adam agreed with her skepticism. Susanne’s claim that she was allergic had been just another lie.

  “Belinda,” her name came on a weary sigh. “I can’t afford to pay much, but I was hoping you could help. I will be gone a lot, but I’ll help every hour I’m home. I have an inspector coming soon and then there’s Zimmerman’s general store to deal with. They have less than a dozen jars left to sell and I can’t let them buy from someone else and lose my place. Mica says you helped your dawdi with his hives and know a lot about them. I don’t have time to teach anyone everything there is to know.”

  “Mica said that?” Her voice sounded a bit husky, indicating anger. Cocking his head, for a better look of her, he still could only see the top of her kapp. Was that all she heard from his mouthful?

  She rose, turned and knelt again, this time to pluck dead blooms with her back toward him. “Why is an inspector coming? Have you got mites or something?”

  Well. She did know a little about bees.

  He maneuvered to a short section of puffy pink blooms and stood before her again. Talking to someone who avoided looking at you was a chore. Especially when he didn’t understand the reason for it. It seemed like more than just shyness.

  Mica had said Belinda was...self-conscious, but Adam still couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t stutter like little Katie Jo Shetler or have a tic like Ivy Lapp did, rubbing her fingers together in odd circles. She no longer bore as dark a mark on her face as she had as a girl, not that it had ever bothered him; it was lighter and less noticeable now. She was witty, and if he was being honest, she was even prettier than he remembered. What did she have to be self-conscious about? She was a gentle spirit wrapped in beauty, with eyes that had the power to entrap a man’s good sense. He averted his own gaze. Focus on your troubles, Adam, don’t go adding to them.

  “The state sends out an inspector every so often to all beekeepers, checking the health of the hives. It doesn’t cost anything and it’s voluntary, but they let you know if other keepers in the area are having problems with mites, beetles, and such. Its routine, but someone has to be there, and Mamm wouldn’t know how to answer any questions, should there be any.”

  She didn’t seem the least bit enthused to help. In fact, Adam wasn’t sure she was even listening. She was still pretty, even at this angle. Susanne had been pretty too, but something about Belinda drew him closer. Her innocent vulnerability, her delicate movements, the way she braved a look at him when he knew she hated doing so. It was all tempting, but he was man enough not to take the bait.

  Her eyes snapped up to meet his equally. “So Mica and you figure I have plenty of time on my hands?”

  The earth went quiet. Not a frog croaked, not a bug dared to zoom by. He was pretty sure time simply halted, giving him time to regain some sense of composure. Those big blue eyes, a dazzling violet matching a small flower tucked into her hair, made Adam’s mouth go dry. He was trying to stay focused, but all he could do was stare helplessly at the way she really had grown into those eyes, and the small delicate point of her chin, the way her lashes encased those...Snap out of it.

  “Jah, I mean I hoped, I’m hoping,” he stuttered foolishly, pulling his gaze away from those eyes and the tiny flower in her hair. She sang to flowers, and wore them, which should’ve made him think her a foolish maedel, but it seemed adorable instead. She had freckles, too. He hadn’t known that. Three made a cute line down the right side of her button nose. Adam knelt to see her more clearly. Maybe he looked too intimidating standing over her as he was. Maybe there was more of her to see in the dimming light of the day.

  “There is no one else. I really could use the help,” he said with complete honesty, uncomfortably aware that he was just east of begging. Asking for help was harder than it looked. Add guilt, and it was pure torture. He was putting pressure on her and he didn’t like himself for it, but he was desperate. “I will compensate you fairly for any help you can offer.”

  “I’m your last choice,” she muttered. Adam knew better than to answer that. She bit her bottom lip—a little fuller than her top one—as she considered his request.

  Adam waited, wishing he knew what was going through her mind, wondering how he could tip it in his favor. He was the worst neighbor, using her good heart to get what he wanted. Mamm would have his hide if she knew he used his circumstances to apply pressure for his own personal gain. But he needed this help too much to walk away.

  Belinda yanked a few blades of grass that dared to grow too close to the garden’s edge, and contemplated. Not only had her brother sent Adam out here, but now her good moral sense told her she might just have to accept helping him. It was the Amish way: helping out those in need.

  The sun was nearly gone, the moon casting a warm scarlet hue over the landscape as he waited for her answer. She’d always enjoyed harvesting honey for Dawdi, but could she work with another, someone who wasn’t family? On top of that, could she take money for it? With Atlee’s injured state, the Hostetlers needed every dime they could rub together.

  “You can’t pay me.” She started to get to her feet, and Adam followed. “It wouldn’t feel right. I know Atlee’s surgeries and future needs will be costly.”

  “You can’t do the work for nothing. That wouldn’t be fair.” Adam offered her a hand up, but she ignored it, brushing dirt from her drab chore dress. When she looked up to him, Adam was again staring. Life had taught her to wilt under such looks. Unexpectedly, Adam took a step back, a gesture to address her natural-born reticence.

  “I won’t do it for nothing.”

  His eye
s flickered with surprise. “What do you want, then?”

  Belinda swallowed the flock of sparrows trying to make its way out of her belly and took a deep breath. What she wanted was not to be looked at like she was right now—especially by him. Adam’s eyes had always intrigued her. From a distance, she’d thought them to be green, but as sure as she stood there looking at them now, they were blue, a pale dusty color like a sky nearing the brink of change. She needed to think, and that wasn’t easy with those magnetic eyes hanging on so tightly.

  She was inexperienced in matters of attraction, avoiding worldly temptations easily enough, but Belinda was bewildered by what those eyes were doing to her. Maybe she was coming down with something. A summer cold, perhaps? Or maybe she had been spending too much time reading and daydreaming.

  One thing she did know for certain, though: He wouldn’t be here, asking her for help, if he wasn’t desperate for it.

  Adam had a lot of responsibilities. Working two jobs while trying to run his own business, and having not a soul he could depend on. Belinda could always count on her family if she needed them in anything, but Adam was an only child. All of these responsibilities fell on his shoulders alone.

  She knew so little about work troubles, except one. How to find a market for her flowers without actually speaking to strangers. A thought hit her like lightning. Yes! She could do this. He needed her, and she needed a way out of doing the one thing she feared most.

  “I’ll help you harvest your honey, and you’ll help sell my flowers.” She spoke loudly and lifted her chin to show him she was serious. It was a moment of bravery. If only her siblings were here to witness it.

  “Flowers,” Adam said, less enthusiastic. “I don’t know a thing about flowers.”