Aaron Raber was there.
Without thinking, she pressed her hand to her heart. He was as old or older than she was, yet there he was, walking in with a shy smile on his face. He removed his felt hat, and his blond hair fell gently over his ears. His eyes caught hers, and she froze. He nodded and moved smoothly to where a few boys were sitting.
Was he there to check out the girls in the district? Was he in the market for a wife? Rhoda nearly choked on her own saliva. What in the world was she thinking? She had no call to poke her nose into Aaron Raber’s business. She didn’t even know him. She felt his eyes still on her, and she shifted uncomfortably. Her face turned hot. Was it warm in there? Had the Burki’s lit a stove or something? She pulled at the neck of her dress.
Finally, she raised her eyes and dared look toward him. He flinched when their eyes met, and he quickly looked away. He had been staring at her.
Rhoda was sure her cheeks were flaming red.
“What’s the matter with you?” Emmy asked. “You’re wiggling like a worm on a hook. Don’t you feel good?”
“I’m fine,” Rhoda said. “Sorry. I’m fine.”
Emmy gave her a nudge. “You don’t look fine.”
Then Thomas began the singing. Rhoda forgot about Aaron and enjoyed the slow, melodious hymns. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed time dedicated solely to singing. Back in school, they had sung every day, and she’d loved it. But for her, school had been over many years before. Of course, she sang at church meetings, but that was only every other Sunday. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it.
“Your voice is so pretty,” Emmy whispered in her ear.
Rhoda felt her cheeks grow warm all over again. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Who’s the new guy?” Emmy continued. She jerked her head toward where Aaron was sitting. “He’s cute, don’t you think?”
Rhoda’s eyes widened. Yes, she did think he was cute. She shrugged.
“He keeps looking at you. Do you know him?” Emmy’s voice was low.
“Shh,” Rhoda said, giving Emmy a stern look.
“Well, sorry. But he acts like he knows you.”
Rhoda gave a huge sigh and faced Emmy. “He wants my bees.”
Emmy’s face screwed up. “What? Did you say he wants your bees?”
Now, others were turning around and staring at them. Rhoda grimaced and joined in the singing again. When did Emmy become such a talker? She looked at her out of the corner of her eye and saw that Emmy was focused on Aaron. She rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have come. This was turning into a real spectacle. She should have found another way to talk to Matthew.
The singing moved to faster songs, and once again, Rhoda’s full attention was on the music. She found herself smiling while she sang. How lovely it was to be out of the house for the evening away from the worries of her mother. Away from all her responsibilities. She had been right to come after all. In fact, she might attend the next youth singing, too. There was no age limit. So what if she was the oldest girl there.
After the last song, everyone stood and began to wander to the tables laden with food. Rhoda wasn’t really hungry, but she followed the crowd.
“Rhoda?”
She swirled around to face Aaron.
“Oh, Aaron. Hello.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She glanced around and then nodded. “Sure.”
He walked to the side of the barn where the shadows moved across the worn siding. The lanterns didn’t cast much light over there, and Rhoda knew that often couples took advantage of the spot to arrange further trysts. She felt awkward to find herself in the shadows with Aaron.
“Can you meet me at the public library?” Aaron asked.
“What?”
“You know, to do research on bee pollination.”
“Oh, jah.” Rhoda’s mind whirled. She supposed the library was the best place to do research. Unless she could find another Amish beekeeper to talk with who was involved in such things.
Aaron seemed careful to keep a proper distance between them, but Rhoda was painfully aware of how close he stood. She could smell the earth and the wind and the trees on him. His blue eyes appeared black in the dim light. He towered over her, and she felt small, and well, feminine before him—a feeling she was not accustomed to. Her pulse raced, and she suddenly felt out of breath. She couldn’t take her eyes from his.
His brows raised. “So, that will work for you? We could meet there tomorrow in the afternoon. About two o’clock?”
She nodded. She couldn’t trust her voice not to shake. Ach! This is ridiculous. He just wants to rent my bees. Get ahold of yourself.
“Gut,” he said, smiling at her. His straight white teeth gleamed in the dark. “Gut. I’ll see you then.”
And he walked away. For a moment, Rhoda didn’t move. She stared into the darkness where he’d been and felt an absurd sense of loss. She shuddered and turned back toward the table of refreshments.
“What did he want?” Emmy appeared at her elbow.
“I already told you. He wants to use my bees come spring.”
“What for?”
“To pollinate his apple trees.” Rhoda kept walking, but Emmy had stopped. Rhoda turned back around. “What?”
“Your bees?” Emmy nodded her head as if she was privy to some private information. “Right. Your bees.”
Rhoda gave a moan of dismay and quickly went to the table, pouring herself a glass of lemonade.
Chapter Four
Monday was laundry day. For many Amish women, that meant a full day of hard labor over the wringer washer. But for Rhoda, it was done in a couple of hours. She and her mother didn’t make much laundry, and for that, she was grateful. Truth was, she could barely concentrate on what she was doing. She nearly put her own hand through the wringer more than once.
Her mind was on two o’clock.
“Mamm, I need to take the cart into town this afternoon,” she said after the laundry was finished and they were sitting together eating the noon meal.
Winnie looked up from her plate of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and green peas. “Do you now?”
“Jah. I shouldn’t be long. Will you be all right without me?”
Winnie dropped her fork. “Why do you keep asking me that? Of course, I’ll be all right. What do you think will happen?”
Rhoda covered her mother’s hand with her own. “I’m sorry, Mamm. I worry about you is all.”
“Well, you can right well stop your fretting. It ain’t becoming.”
Rhoda smiled. “I’m sure you’re right. It ain’t becoming.” She chuckled.
“Why are you going into town?”
“I’m going to the library to do some reading on bees.” Rhoda saw no reason to tell her mother that she was meeting Aaron Raber there.
“Bees, bees, bees. That’s all you think about.” Winnie loosed her hand from Rhoda’s grasp and grabbed her forearm. “When are you getting married? Where are your beaus? Them bees take all your time.”
Rhoda scooted back at her mother’s sudden intensity. “Mamm?”
Winnie let go of her. “The Lord Gott made women to be wives and mamas.” Her watery gray eyes turned hard. “You ignoring your beaus to take care of me? Or you bees?”
“Nee.” Rhoda let out her breath. “I have no beaus. Now, it’s my turn to tell you to stop fretting. I’m fine.” She leaned in. “Perfectly fine. Now, you will be all right?”
Winnie slumped back in her chair. “Your father loved meat loaf.”
Rhoda’s grip on her spoon tightened.
“Jah, he surely did.” Winnie giggled. “One time I made a meat loaf in the shape of a heart. Did I ever tell you that?”
Rhoda smiled. “I remember, Mamm. Dat nearly came unglued laughing.”
Winnie tipped her head. “He built me this house, you know. I don’t want to leave.”
“You don’t have to.” Rhoda shook her head. “I’ll make sure of it.
You don’t have to leave.”
Winnie set her thin hand on the table beside her plate. “I aim to die here. It’s my home.”
“Jah, Mamm. I know.” Rhoda wasn’t hungry anymore. She set her utensil down and started to gather up the serving dishes. “I’ll red up the kitchen. And then, how about I settle you in for a nice nap?”
Winnie nodded. “Tell your dat that I’ll be sleeping this afternoon.”
“He knows.” Rhoda stood and took the first stack of dishes into the kitchen. Her mother would sleep three to four hours, which would give her plenty of time to go to the library and back.
She ran the hot water into the sink, letting the warmth spill over her hands.
The Hollybrook Public Library had a designated spot for the Amish to park their buggies and wagons. Rhoda pulled her pony cart into the spot and noticed that there was already a buggy there. Was it Aaron’s? If not, that would mean another Amish person would see them together, researching. She wondered if it was prudent to be with Aaron in public.
Of course, there was nothing wrong with it, but was it wise? Tongues would wag. Rumors would begin. By the end of the day, the two of them would be courting… Rhoda gave a quiet snort.
If such rumors started, they would soon be extinguished, because they weren’t courting. Rhoda was a confirmed spinster. Everybody knew that. She thought of Aaron and a warmth spread through her chest. He seemed like such a nice man. He certainly was handsome. She wondered why he wasn’t married. Since he had no beard, chances were good that he wasn’t widowed either. What was his story? And why hadn’t he stayed in Ohio with his family? He could have purchased land there just the same.
She secured Feisty’s reins and walked into the library. She used to frequent the library fairly regularly when she was young. She loved to read. Her mother would let her check out books weekly, as long as she had pre-approved them. Rhoda snickered. Her mother had been a stickler for “appropriate” books, but even so, Rhoda had always managed to come away with at least three books every time.
She looked around the large space with the heavy square tables. There were a few people there, bending over stacks of books. One woman had a pile of at least ten magazines. She was flicking through the pages as if she was on a timer … licking her finger between each turn of a page.
And then, Rhoda spotted him.
Aaron sat at a back table, pouring over a thin red volume. She took a deep breath. So the buggy was his. As far as she could tell, there were no other Amish people in the library. She found herself hugely relieved.
She approached Aaron. He must have sensed her presence because he looked up at her, his deep blue eyes lighting up. “Rhoda.”
She slipped into a chair across the table from him. “Hello, Aaron.”
He smiled and then pointed to his stack of books. “These are all about bee-keeping.”
She nodded, feeling suddenly shy.
“We’d probably learn more quickly on the computers, but it didn’t feel right to use them.”
“I wouldn’t even know how. Would you?”
He pursed his lips. “Actually, I would. Back in Ohio, I had to do some work on a computer for my dad’s furniture business.”
“Your dad makes furniture?”
“Jah.”
“But you don’t?” How odd that he didn’t take on his father’s trade.
“Nee.”
Aaron didn’t seem inclined to say more. A heavy silence followed. Rhoda cleared her throat. “Oh,” she finally uttered, and then marveled at her own ineptness at conversation.
“I didn’t like it,” he admitted, although his reluctance of talk further about it was obvious.
“You don’t have to tell me why.” She folded her hands in her lap.
He shrugged. “No big secret.”
“So that’s why you left?” She couldn’t help but ask.
He gazed at her as if he was studying whether she was trustworthy or not. He seemed to decide she was.
“Everyone expected me to follow in his footsteps. I’m the only son. I have four sisters. I tried working with wood. I wasn’t good at it. Truth is, I didn’t want to be good at it. I like the outdoors. I like dirt.” He gave her a wry smile.
“I’m quite fond of dirt myself,” she said, and they both laughed.
“You probably should sit beside me,” he said, pulling out the chair next to him. “It will be easier to study this together on the same side of the table.”
Her heart did a flip flop. Did she dare move seats? Her pulse was racing, and she feared he would sense it. She hesitated a moment too long.
“I don’t bite.”
“Nee. Nee. I-I know that,” she stuttered.
He looked around the room. “There are no other Amish here.”
“I know.”
He sighed. “If you are more comfortable there, fine.”
She stood up and slowly walked around the table. His eyes were on hers, and she nearly bumped into the corner of the table before she sat beside him. She blew out her breath slowly and picked up one of the books he had pulled from the shelves.
He was so close to her. His chair wasn’t more than ten inches from hers. He was looking at the pages of the book again, but there was a tension between them. The air was so thick, she could taste it. She attempted to swallow and realized her throat had gone bone dry. Her hand trembled slightly when she turned a page of the book.
He gave a quiet cough. “It says here that bees are most active when the air is between sixty and a hundred degrees.”
Of course, she already knew that.
“And that they can fly as much as five miles to find food. It also says that a beekeeper has to learn the skills of having a colony for pollination instead of having one only for honey.” He put his finger under the line on the page and looked at her.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she said.
“So really, what I’m asking you to do is learn a whole different thing for my benefit only.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I guess you are.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t realize.” He tapped his finger on the page. “I think I had a lot of nerve to ask you to do this.”
“Maybe.” She couldn’t read his face. Was he regretting his request or was he simply trying to be polite and give her an out? The truth was, if she did learn these skills, she could rent out her hives to others also, but she would probably have to first invest in more hives if she did.
“I don’t think I thought this through enough. Perhaps this could weaken your hives.”
Rhoda raised her chin. “My hives are very strong. The number of bees is high, and they are healthy. Right now, they’re storing food for the winter.”
“I wasn’t doubting that. You seem like a person who would be very diligent and excellent at what she does.”
Rhoda’s face went warm. She wasn’t used to such an outright compliment. “Thank you,” she murmured.
His cheeks flushed then, as if he just realized this was becoming too intimate. He looked down at the book. “For apple orchards, you need two-story hives with a laying queen.”
“My hives are two-story.”
“With four or more frames and sufficient bees to cover them.” He laughed. “I’m not even sure what this means.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I know what it means.”
He studied her face, and his eyes rested on her lips, but only for the barest fraction of a second. But she saw it, and her heart raced. He blew out his breath and looked back at his book.
“It says here that I would need one strong hive per acre. I’ve got two acres of trees. Not that many, really. I’m hoping to get these producing well and then plant more.” His face came alive while he talked. “I know the Stutzmans didn’t have any luck with the orchard, and I don’t really know why. Maybe the weather didn’t cooperate. Maybe they didn’t have your bees to pollinate.” He gave her a smile. “But I feel certain I can turn it around. You know, in my gut,
I feel certain.”
His eyes were alight with eagerness. She grinned. “You sound like me when I talk about my bees.”
He laughed again. “We both love what we do.” He sobered and glanced down at his hands. He played with the edge of a page, flipping it back and forth. “Truth is, it has to work. I’ve put everything into it.”
She knew what that was like. Putting everything into something. She was putting everything into her dat’s farm. All her energy, her time, her dreams. She wasn’t even sure it was the land she was saving. Maybe, it was her mother. She didn’t have the heart to displace her near the end of her life. It didn’t seem right somehow. Bart was well-meaning, of course. He saw moving their mother as the perfect answer. But he hadn’t lived with her these past years. He didn’t understand the tie Winnie had with the place. If she was uprooted, she might lose her small grasp on reality.
“What is it?” Aaron asked, his brow creased with concern.
Rhoda blanched. “Ach. I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”
“I could see that. Something’s worrying you.”
She gave him a blank look. They hardly knew each other, and yet, there he was asking her such a personal question? It wouldn’t suit. It wouldn’t suit at all.
His cheeks grew red. “Uh, I’m sorry. Sticking my nose in, I see.”
The thing was, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything that was on her mind, which surprised her. She wasn’t normally a chatty person or a person who shared her personal story. But his eyes were so tender on hers, and his face was so open, that she was tempted. She’d never met someone with whom she’d felt such a connection. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. With such feelings, a business arrangement between them should work smoothly.
Business arrangement? Was that all this was? Her mind had taken it further. She found herself wanting to know him better. Wanting to know him in ways that had nothing to do with his apple orchard. She wanted to know his story. About his life back in Ohio. She still wondered why he’d left.
Amish Romance: The Amish Beekeeper: A Hollybrook Amish Romance Clean & Wholesome Story (Rhoda's Story Book 1) Page 3