Amish Romance: The Amish Beekeeper: A Hollybrook Amish Romance Clean & Wholesome Story (Rhoda's Story Book 1)

by Brenda Maxfield

  “I see I’ve surprised you.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m lining things up for the spring. I heard you have bees.”

  “I do.”

  “I’ll be needing them to pollinate. I plan to do all I can to help the trees set on fruit this coming season.”

  “My bees are free to roam wherever they please.”

  “Jah. But I could pay you to rent your hives. I want to set them in my orchards for a spell when the blossoms come on.”

  Rhoda considered his words. “I think I’ve heard of something like that before. But my bees do just fine on the local wildflowers. In fact, my honey is the best around.”

  “I know that apple honey is mighty fine, too. You could expand your market.” He gave her a hopeful look, and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “But it might disturb them to be moved.”

  “Perhaps we could do some research about it. But I don’t think it’ll harm a thing. And I will pay.”

  Rhoda thought for a moment. He’d pay her to use her bees? It would be like getting double income from her beloved insects.

  “I’ll need to think on it.” She gazed at him. “And jah, I’d need to do some research.”

  “Of course. There’s no rush.” He gazed out at the cloudy sky. “We have a winter to get through first. But from what I know, I’d need the hives moved to my orchard in February or March.”

  “So early? Here in the Midwest?”

  He reached toward her and then dropped his hand to his side. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to harm your bees. Truly. We’ll research it, all right?”

  He looked completely sincere. She let out her breath. Since everyone had moved out, her bees had slowly become her whole life. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She still had many chores and much housework to complete every day. And then there was her mother. But the bees? They were her true interest. Almost like her own little family. She shook her head. She was being silly, calling bees her family. Whoever heard of such stuff and nonsense?

  “And your family?” she asked on a whim. Had the man come to Hollybrook alone? That would be odd, indeed.

  “My folks live in Ohio.” He raised his chin, and she noted the fine profile he had. “Should things go well, I’ll bring them here.”

  “Jah. The Stutzmans had a daadi haus if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You’re not mistaken. But my folks will live in the big house with me. I hardly need the whole place to myself. As it is, I lumber about in there and hear echoes.” He gave a resonant chuckle. “I’ll be renting the daadi haus out.”

  This man was a continual surprise.

  “Oh?”

  “To a young couple. I’m sure you know them. They will be wed next month. Betty and Matthew? I forget their last names.”

  Rhoda’s lips parted. “So Betty and Matthew are going to be wed.”

  Aaron turned red. “Ach. I feel like a fool. They haven’t been published yet?”

  “Nee. But don’t worry. Everyone suspects it.”

  “Please don’t tell them I was the one who let it slip.”

  Rhoda laughed. “I won’t. Truth is, I was wondering where they would settle. No room in either of their folks’ homes, from what I know. Well, that’ll be nice for them, then. Your daadi haus.”

  Aaron nodded. “And nice for me, too.”

  Rhoda wished she had a daadi haus. Then she could earn money by renting it out. She gazed behind her up the stairs. Maybe she could rent out a room. She dismissed the idea as soon as it appeared. With Winnie’s strange wanderings during the night, a boarder could get spooked. No, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

  But, renting her hives. Now, that could work.

  “If I did let you use my bees for a while, I’d need to have access to the hives regularly.” Rhoda checked on the bees daily, especially during the warmer months.

  “That goes without saying.”

  She bit her lip. “I’ll be telling you soon.”

  He put his hat on his head. “Again. No hurry. Just planting the idea.”

  She bid him farewell. He nodded to her and left the porch, going down the steps two at a time. He got into his pony cart with an easy leap and snapped the reins on his horse. Rhoda didn’t move from the door. She watched his cart leave the drive, the forgotten plate of cookies still in her hand. He sat in his wagon with an easy grace, holding the reins loosely in his hands. When he got to the end of the drive, he glanced back. With a gasp, Rhoda ducked behind the door.

  Rhoda put the stack of plates in the cupboard with a decisive clunk. Then she swiped the counter clean and tossed the dishrag into the sink. Why couldn’t she get the image of Aaron Raber out of her mind? It was downright annoying. As she shoved the utensil drawer closed, she decided that it was because of her bees. Doing business with Aaron could lead to making more money, which could then lead to being able to keep her mother on the farm.

  She snorted. As if his piddly bit of money would keep the farm going, for she couldn’t imagine that renting out bees was very lucrative.

  No. She needed more than renting out her bees. She needed someone to farm the land. She stood still and thought. What about Matthew? As far as she knew, the groom-to-be wasn’t inheriting any land from his folks. Maybe he would like to farm her land. It would give him and Betty a good start on their family finances. He just might welcome the chance to start off his marriage with such a plan.

  Rhoda smiled. She’d talk to him as soon as possible. There was going to be a youth singing after church the coming Sunday. Maybe, she should go and seek him out for a word. She scoffed. She’d stopped going to the youth singings a couple of years back. While most other girls kept going until they were wed, Rhoda didn’t see the point. It was embarrassing being the eldest girl there.

  Humiliating, more like.

  Well, she’d just have to swallow her pride and go. She balked and felt her cheeks warm. Pride? Is that what it was? The Lord God didn’t look favorably upon pride. With an impatient huff, Rhoda left the kitchen. She was doing entirely too much thinking of late.

  “Rhoda!” came Winnie’s cry from the front room.

  Rhoda hurried to her. “Jah, Mamm? What is it?”

  “I want to fix your father a nice roast for dinner. Do we have one?”

  Rhoda’s breath seeped out in a sigh. “Mamm, Dat won’t be here for dinner.”

  Winnie’s brow creased. “Why ever not? He’s out in the fields working right now.”

  Rhoda went to her mother and put her hand on her shoulder. “Mamm,” she said softly. “Dat isn’t in the fields. Remember? He died. He’s not coming to dinner.”

  Winnie’s face froze. “What?”

  Rhoda swallowed. Old Mae had told her to gently remind her mother of the truth in situations like this. But the truth was so upsetting that she wondered if it was the best thing. Wouldn’t it be better to just let her mother think what she wanted to think? Rhoda felt like she was always hurting her. Making her sad over and over again.

  It was awful.

  “What?” Winnie asked again, more quietly this time.

  “Nothing, Mamm,” Rhoda said quickly. “I think a roast is a fine idea for dinner.”

  Winnie took a huge breath and settled back in her chair. Her forehead smoothed out, and she gave Rhoda a smile. “He always likes a good pot roast.”

  “Jah, he does.”

  Winnie grabbed Rhoda’s arm. “I’ll cook it. I don’t want you to do a thing. After all, you have your schoolwork to do.”

  Rhoda blinked hard, fighting back the tears that pricked at her eyes. “I got my schoolwork done, Mamm.”

  “Did you now?” Winnie hoisted her thin frame out of the chair. “I’ll be starting on that roast.”

  Rhoda took her arm. “Let me come with you. You can show me what to do.”

  Winnie nodded and patted Rhoda’s hand. “That I can, daughter.”

  The two of them walked toward the kitchen, when Winnie stopped so abruptly, she nearl
y fell over.

  “Ach. What am I thinking?” she said, her voice choked with tears. “Zeb is gone. What am I thinking?”

  She burst into sobs, and her legs crumpled. Rhoda grabbed her and barely kept her from falling to the floor. “Come on, Mamm. Let’s get you back into the front room. I’ll bring you a cup of tea. How does that sound?”

  But Winnie didn’t answer. The tears kept rolling down her cheeks as Rhoda got her back into her rocker next to the warming stove.

  “There you go. Sit right here. I’ll be back.”

  Rhoda walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. It was happening too frequently now. She’d talk to Old Mae again, but Rhoda wasn’t very confident it would do any good. Her mother’s mind was going. And one day, it would be gone.

  And then what?

  Chapter Three

  It was a service Sunday, and it was being held at the Burki farm. Rhoda bundled up her mother and put her in the pony cart. Bart had taken the family carriage with him when he’d moved to his wife’s family farm. Rhoda didn’t mind. She preferred driving the pony cart or the wagon anyway. Bart offered to take her and her mother to the services held every other Sunday, but Rhoda knew that would mean two trips for him, and she wasn’t keen on the bother they would become.

  Besides, in her heart of hearts, Rhoda didn’t like being beholden to Bart overly much. As far as she was concerned, he already acted as the authority in her life enough. She didn’t broadcast such rebellious thoughts as she knew they wouldn’t be received well by anyone. As the remaining male family member, Bart was the authority in her life.

  But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  She’d seen what depending too much on a male could do. Hadn’t her mother counted almost completely on her father? And then when he’d died, Winnie had been devastated—like a lost puppy in a thick forest. Rhoda sometimes wondered if her father’s death had brought on her mother’s mental issues. Old Mae said no, it was age. But still, Rhoda wondered.

  “Where’s the meeting?” Winnie asked, hugging her cape around her.

  “At the Burki’s farm.” Rhoda slapped the reins on Feisty’s back and the pony cart sprang into motion.

  Winnie nodded. “Gut. That’s gut.” She looked at Rhoda. “They’re gut people. The Burkis.”

  “Jah, Mamm, they are.” Rhoda took a deep breath. “I’m planning to attend the youth singing tonight. After the noon meal, I’ll bring you home. But I’ll be leaving again later. Is that all right? You’ll be okay by yourself?”

  Winnie scowled. “And why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “No reason. I was just commenting.”

  “You don’t have to comment. I changed your diapers, you know.”

  Rhoda’s eyebrows raised. She glanced at her mother. “You making jokes, now, Mamm?”

  Winnie shrugged and smiled playfully. “And if I am?”

  “I’d say it was right welcome.” Rhoda giggled. “I remember when I was little. If my memory serves, you used to make quite a few jokes.”

  “I was a true jokester,” Winnie said with a completely straight face.

  Rhoda snickered again. “Aw. It’s good to see you being so silly.”

  “This is Gott’s day, girl. Enough of that.”

  And just so quickly, the frivolity was over. But Rhoda didn’t care. Even seeing her mother joke at all was huge. And quite lovely. Rhoda grinned in the cool air, hugging the moment to herself.

  The Burki’s barn was cold. Rhoda worried about her mother. She sat on the bench as close to her as she dared, hoping that her body heat would help keep the woman warm. She should have heated some bricks and placed them at Winnie’s feet. She’d remember next time. Although, the next service would be at the Kemps, and they always held the meeting inside their house, having a huge room just for such purposes.

  There was a commotion at the door as the last people came inside for the preaching. Rhoda glanced over, and her heart did a flip when she spotted Aaron Raber saunter in. She looked down quickly, annoyed with herself. Why should she give a start just because he’d come in? She looked up, keeping her head partially turned to the side, to look as inconspicuous as possible. She watched him move to the men’s side of the room. A few people greeted him, and he smiled a charmingly crooked smile. His eyes roamed the room, and she froze when they momentarily landed on her. Could he tell that she was looking at him? She immediately studied her hands in her lap, and her throat went dry.

  How absurd. She hardly knew the man, and there she was acting like they had some kind of a relationship.

  With a rush of air, her sister Donna and her four children came over and planted themselves beside her.

  “Good morning, Rhoda,” Donna said. Then she turned her attention to getting the kids settled. She positioned the youngest, Abby, on her lap.

  “Morning, Donna,” Rhoda replied. She leaned around her sister and grinned at her nieces and nephew just as the preacher stood to begin.

  The service was long and protracted. Rhoda was used to sitting for up to three hours, but for some reason, the meeting that day felt more like six. She couldn’t get comfortable, and she was maddeningly aware of Aaron Raber just a few rows over and back one.

  When the second sermon was finished and the last prayer spoken, Rhoda almost clapped with glee. She shot up from the bench, eager to help set out the noon meal. She took Winnie with her to the Burki’s kitchen.

  “He’s new around these parts,” one of the women was saying as they entered the room.

  “Taking over the Stutzman place is what I heard,” said another.

  Rhoda stopped. “You’re right,” she said. “His name is Aaron Raber and he plans to try again with the old apple orchard.”

  “Lost cause is what I say,” observed Louellen Burki. “Never made the Stutzmans a dime. I was awful sorry to see them go. If they’d only have raised corn, they’d still be here.”

  “How do you know what he plans to do?” asked Donna, who was suddenly standing behind Rhoda.

  “Because he came by and wants my bees to pollinate his trees.”

  Donna frowned. “What? How silly. Bees fly wherever they want.”

  Rhoda didn’t feel like getting into it in front of all the women. “True. They do go where they want.”

  “Just keep them away from my Jake,” Martha Wyse said. “He swells up like a pumpkin if he gets stung.”

  And the conversation rambled on. Rhoda was only half-listening, her mind still stuck on Aaron and how striking he had looked sitting on the narrow bench during the service.

  Later that day, Rhoda stood just outside the Burki’s barn door trying to convince herself to enter. She heard the chatter from inside and knew that most of the district’s youth had already congregated. The singing hadn’t yet started but probably would shortly. She felt like a fool—still single and going to a youth singing at the age of twenty-six. She would certainly be the oldest person there.

  Yet, it was the easiest way to speak with Matthew about the possibility of him farming her land. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her best cape dress and walked inside. Pockets of youth stood in clusters all around the barn. She scanned the crowd quickly and spotted Matthew without much trouble. He was the skinniest lad Rhoda knew. Presently, he was speaking with a group of four other guys. Rhoda’s eyes darted around for Betty. She stood, over by the plow, watching Matthew with a glowing expression. Yes, they were engaged all right.

  Rhoda made her way through the merriment until she stood just to the side of Matthew. He gazed down at her with raised eyebrows. “Hello, Rhoda.” His voice reflected his surprise at her singling him out.

  “May I speak with you for a moment, Matthew?”

  He nodded and stepped away from the group of guys. “Jah. What do you need?”

  “Over here,” she said, indicating a few feet over with a tilt of her head.

  He followed her. “What is it?”

  “I was wondering if you plan to do any farming next
season.”

  “Farming?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you were planning to farm with your dat or what…” Rhoda let the words hang, knowing how absurd they must sound to him. After all, they didn’t know each other that well.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Rhoda lowered her voice. “I was wondering if you’d like to farm my family’s land.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Your brother farms it.”

  “He has no time anymore.”

  Matthew frowned. “Really?”

  Rhoda nodded. “I’m looking for someone to lease the land. It’s gut land, Matthew. You can ask Bart.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” He peered around the room, and Rhoda knew he was looking for Betty. When he saw her, they exchanged a look.

  “Think about it, all right?”

  “I’d need to know the terms.”

  “Of course. We can talk about it later if you want.”

  “You know, don’t you?” He gave her a sheepish smile.

  “About you and…” Rhoda left the sentence dangling. Then she smiled at him and nodded. “Jah. I know.”

  “I suppose everyone knows.”

  “Nee. Not everyone.” And then Rhoda laughed. “Come over anytime, and we’ll talk.”

  He agreed and went back to his group. Rhoda stood for a moment feeling completely out-of-place. When she was younger, she’d lived for these events. She had cast her eyes on more than one young man, but it had never turned into anything serious. She pressed her lips together. Why hadn’t it? Was something wrong with her? Was she unappealing in some way? When she gazed at herself in the small hand mirror on her dresser, she thought she looked all right. Not beautiful, maybe, but pretty enough.

  “Rhoda!” cried Emmy Zook, interrupting her reverie. “You’re here. How lovely.”

  Rhoda blinked and then smiled at Emmy. “I’m here.”

  “You haven’t come to a singing for ages, and your voice is so pretty. Want to sit with me?” Emmy asked.

  Rhoda grinned, relieved at having someone to be with. Emmy always was such a friendly girl. She was a good five years younger than Rhoda, and if gossip was to be believed, she had a big crush on Mark Sutter. But Mark didn’t seem to be in attendance, so Emmy was probably at loose ends. They settled themselves on a bench and Rhoda pulled her dress a bit further toward her ankles. She glanced over toward the barn door and gasped.