by Marta Perry
Little though he’d relished hearing Naomi speak of Jessie, he had to admit that she had probably known Jessie as well as anyone other than family. Emma had worried about Jessie and coddled her, near as he could make out, while Ada had been kind but clear-sighted where Jessie was concerned. Elizabeth, the middle sister, always seemed to go her own way, paying little heed to what went on unless Jessie embarrassed her by some outburst. And as for Seth, the only boy—well, Seth had jumped the fence to the Englisch world at eighteen, leaving his family responsibilities behind for others. Emma heard from him now and then, and she’d once admitted that the checks he sent made a big difference after her husband died. Still, it wasn’t like being there and helping.
Which brought Nathan full circle back to Naomi. If she were right that Jessie needed more help than any of them could give…
No, he wasn’t going to think that way. He turned toward the barn, caught a flicker of movement, and realized it was Naomi and the children, walking along the lane toward the bee yard. Worry knotted his stomach, even though common sense told him it was needless. The bees were dormant now, and they were no danger. Still, it would be best if Joshua and Sadie didn’t get the idea that it was all right to be around the hives.
He cut across the field toward them, stubble crackling under his work shoes. He’d just drop a word in Naomi’s ear.
Despite Nathan’s quick strides, Naomi and the children were already in the midst of the hives by the time he reached them. He slowed his steps, not wanting to look as if he were alarmed by the children’s nearness to the bees.
“You can’t hear them buzzing now because they’re not moving around,” Naomi said, apparently answering a question Joshua had asked.
“Can’t you wake them up, Naomi?” Sadie, her cheeks rosy from the cold, looked up at her. Then Nathan’s movement must have alerted the children, because they glanced at him—Joshua a little warily, as if he anticipated being sent back to the house.
That look gave him pause. He didn’t want his son thinking of him as someone who always said no.
“Naomi is showing us where the bees live, Daadi,” Sadie piped up. “I want her to wake them up so we can see them.”
He glanced at Naomi, and she smiled. “It would be bad for the bees to be wakened now. They’re all cozy in their home for the winter, snuggled up close together to stay warm. The bees all crowd closely around the queen, and they whir their little wings to help keep the hive warm for her. If we disturb them, they might get sick.”
“I wouldn’t want to make them sick.” Sadie looked appropriately sad for an instant. “But when will they come out of their hive?”
“In the spring,” Joshua said. “Lots of animals sleep in the cold weather. Remember the story Grossmammi read us about the bears?”
“That’s right,” Naomi said. “One warm day, you’ll notice all sorts of creatures stirring. When the plants start growing, the bees will start coming out of the hive. I will put a branch outside the entrance to each hive, which makes them fly up higher and take a look around.
“Really?” Nathan couldn’t help being interested himself.
Naomi nodded, smiling. “It’s an old beekeeper’s trick that my grossmammi taught me. When the hive is in a new location, you have to make the bees fly up higher, so they take in the larger landscape and find their way back to the hive.”
“I’d forgotten it was your grossmammi who started you off with the bees.” Naomi had been fairly young when her grossmammi passed, but she’d already been trained in how to care for the bees.
“Ja, that’s the way of it. Mother to daughter to granddaughter in our family, all learning to care for the bees.” She glanced at the children. “So, in the spring, the bees will fly up out of the hive, take a look around, and know it’s time they got to work.”
“Making honey for us,” Sadie said.
“That’s right. But they have other important jobs, too. If they don’t carry the pollen from one plant to another, the crops won’t grow properly.”
“Bees are part of God’s plan for the world, ain’t so, Daadi?” Joshua looked to him for approval.
“That’s right.” His smile encompassed all of them, and he found he was in no hurry to deliver his message and rush back to work. “God lets us take care of the earth for Him.”
He might not articulate it in words very often, but like most Amish, he felt that farming was a privilege. Other jobs were important to the community, for sure, but farming brought a person closer to God’s earth.
“There aren’t so many wild bees around as there used to be,” Naomi said. “That makes our bees even more precious, and we must never do anything to disturb them. Even when they’re awake and flying around, you must never go close to the hives unless Daadi or Grossdaadi or I bring you.”
She smiled at Sadie, who looked ready to burst out with her inevitable Why?
“Because if you do, the bees might think you are not Sadie and Joshua but a bear, come to steal their honey. And if they think that, they’ll sting.” Forming her fingers into pincers, she nipped at the children, making them giggle.
Smiling as he watched, Nathan felt his worry subside. Naomi had warned the children, probably in a way they’d listen to better than if he’d just ordered them to stay away. Naomi was an unusual woman.
He studied her face as she began telling the children a story about the bees. Naomi had often faded into insignificance next to lively Ada, but her serenity had its own appeal. Knowing what her life had been like since her mamm died, he’d guess that serenity was hard-won.
“Now we will say good-bye to the bees,” she concluded. “Families with bees know that you should tell them whenever something is happening in a family.” She looked around her at the hives. “This is your home now, and I will always be here to take care of you. Joshua and Sadie live here, and they are your friends.”
“Good-bye, bees,” Sadie said promptly. Joshua, with a flicker of embarrassment, did the same.
“Off we go, now.” Naomi began shepherding the children back toward the house. Nathan fell into step with her while Joshua and Sadie darted ahead.
Naomi sent a glance his way. “Were you checking up on me then, Nathan?”
“No, I…” He gave a reluctant grin, knowing she’d not believe a denial. “I just wanted to be sure the kinder were warned about getting too close to the bees. You did that better than I could.”
“It’s only common sense, after all,” she said. “Most young ones raised on a farm learn how to behave around the animals, and bees are no different.”
“They have stingers,” he reminded her.
“Ja, and horses have teeth and hooves,” she retorted. “But I’ll bet you were working around them long before you went to school, ja?”
He shrugged, the question reminding him uncomfortably about his conversation with Daad about protecting the children. “I guess so.” He watched Joshua, showing Sadie a tiny wildflower that had somehow managed to evade the frost.
“You got plenty of bumps and bruises, if you were like my brothers.” Naomi shook her head. “I’ll never forget the day Elijah ran into the field with that bad-tempered old bull we had, waving a tablecloth he’d snatched from Mamm’s laundry. Thought he was going to be a bullfighter, I guess.” She smiled, shaking her head. “The bull gave him a boost over the fence, and then Daad gave him a hiding for being so foolish.”
Nathan had to smile at that image of Elijah, who had turned a bit pompous once he’d married and started running the store in town. Still, his heart would surely stop if he ever saw Joshua doing such a thing.
“You are thinking you’d be more scared than angry,” Naomi said, her gaze on his face. “Ja?”
He nodded. “Guess I am.”
“So Daad was, too. I saw his face, and he was scared half out of his wits. But I guess he knew there were some lessons Elijah had to learn for himself.”
Nathan stopped, and Naomi halted, too. She looked up at him, her deep blue eye
s clear and untroubled.
“You are trying to say that I’m overprotective with my kinder, ja?”
Faint frown lines showed between her brows. “I did not say that, Nathan. They are your kinder, and you must raise them as you see fit. I just thought you might have forgotten some of the things you got up to when you were Joshua’s age.”
“I haven’t forgotten. At least, I don’t think so.” Honesty compelled him to add the qualifier. “But that’s not the point. I had two parents to look after me. Sadie and Joshua don’t.”
“I know.” Pain flickered in her eyes, and he knew she was thinking of Ada, as well.
He closed his mind to the thought that she was grieving Ada. “Then you’ll understand that I have to make the decisions where Joshua and Sadie are concerned.” He said the words with finality. Naomi would either accept that or she would leave.
“Ja, of course,” she said, bowing her head in agreement.
She understood then. Good. So why did she make him feel like such a bully?
Overall, it had been a good day, Naomi thought as she rolled out a piecrust late that afternoon. She’d found a basket of apples in the cold storage shed that would have to be used before a hard freeze, so apple pies seemed to be the answer.
Yes, a fairly good day. For the most part, Joshua and Sadie seemed to have adjusted to their grandmother’s absence.
She glanced at the kitchen table. Joshua was still busy printing a story about the bees, but Sadie must have lost interest in the picture she was coloring, since she’d begun tossing crayons onto her brother’s page.
“Sadie, would you like to roll out some piecrust with me?”
Sadie blinked, forgetting the pleasures of pestering her brother in an instant. “Can I? Grossmammi always says I make too much mess.”
“Well, messes are for cleaning up, ja? Komm, I’ll let you make some little pies of your own.”
Sadie scrambled down from her chair and pushed it over to the counter.
“Clean hands first,” Naomi cautioned, and glanced at Joshua, head still bent over his printing. “Joshua, would you like to make a pie, too?”
Intent on the story, he didn’t look up. “Denke, Naomi. I would like to finish my story first, ja?”
“That’s fine. You will be a gut scholar when you start school.” And at the rate he was going, the teacher would be hard-pressed to keep up with him.
“I’m ready,” Sadie announced. She reached for the crust Naomi had been rolling, but Naomi shook her head.
“Not that one. I will give you some dough of your own to roll.” She made a space next to her area, sprinkling the counter surface with flour and searching for a second rolling pin in the drawer. It would be an unlikely Amish kitchen that only had one, and sure enough, she found a second, smaller one, ideal for a child’s hands.
“Now,” she said, putting a ball of dough in front of Sadie. “You smooth some flour on your rolling pin, and then you begin to roll out the dough, like this.” She demonstrated, and Sadie’s fingers twitched with her desire to do it herself.
“I can do it,” she declared, and Naomi put the rolling pin in front of Sadie.
The dough would no doubt be tough after the handling Sadie was sure to give it, but that was a first step in mastering pastry.
So they rolled and rerolled, Naomi managing to get two pies finished in between encouraging Sadie and showing her how to mound a few sliced apples, some sugar, and some cinnamon onto a round of dough and then pinch the dough together around the filling. Little purses, Naomi’s mamm had called them, and that had been the first thing Naomi had learned to bake. For an instant she was back in that kitchen, standing on a chair next to Mamm and copying her movements.
The thought pierced her heart. She had had those precious years with her mother, while Sadie probably barely remembered Ada.
A half hour later they were taking the pies from the oven when the back door swung open. Naomi turned, expecting to see Nathan or his father, but it was Sarah Schultz, Nathan’s married sister, along with three of her young ones—four, counting the babe she held in her arms.
“Aunt Sarah, I baked!” Sadie danced across the kitchen to tug eagerly on Sarah’s cape while Sarah tried to remove jackets from her little ones.
“I see you did.” Sarah’s smiling gaze met Naomi’s, and Naomi hurried to help her with the children.
“Sarah, it is wonderful gut to see you.” She divested two-year-old Samuel of his jacket. “And the kinder.”
“I thought I would stop to see how things are going, and then I’ll pick up the older ones from school.” With her lively brood, Sarah had her hands full, but she seemed to control them without effort. “Ja, Samuel, you can color, but not on Joshua’s paper.” She diverted her young son’s attention to a picture of his own.
“Let me hold the boppli while you get your coat off, at least,” Naomi said. “Will you have some pie or coffee cake? And there is coffee on the stove.”
Sarah handed over the sleeping baby and stretched as she took off her jacket. “Ach, wouldn’t you know little Matthew would fall asleep in the buggy?”
One-handed, Naomi began setting out a plate of oatmeal cookies for the children while she cradled the sleeping baby in her other arm. “The motion always puts them to sleep, ja? I remember when Isaiah used to fall asleep the minute we started to worship.”
“And now he’s married himself.” Sarah poured a cup of coffee and helped herself to a slice of the coffee cake on the counter. With the children occupied at the table, she took one of the two rockers by the wood-burner. “Shall I take little Matt back?”
“I’ll hold him.” Naomi sat down in the other rocking chair, cradling the warm bundle against her. Would she ever stop feeling this longing for a babe of her own whenever she held one? Not likely, it seemed.
She’d been hoping for a chance to talk with Sarah. Things had happened so fast with Emma leaving that she hadn’t had a chance to reassure herself that Sarah didn’t mind her taking over here.
“Aaron, you share with your bruder.” Sarah seemed to keep an eagle eye on her young ones. “I meant to stop by sooner than this, but yesterday was so busy…Well, I am here now. Are you settling all right with the kinder?”
“Ja, everything is fine.” Naomi glanced at the children, satisfied that they were intent on what they were doing and not listening to the grown-ups. “I hope it is all right with you that I am watching them.”
“All right?” Sarah echoed. “I couldn’t be more pleased. Mind, I told Nathan I’d be happy to have his two at my house until Emma returns, but he thought they’d do better in their own home. And I can’t deny he’s probably right.” She sighed. “Those poor kinder have been through enough in their young lives without being bounced around. As for you—I’m just thanking God you were able to fill in when Nathan needed you.”
“Nathan is helping me, as well,” Naomi said quickly. “He’s letting me have my beehives on his land.”
“Ach, ja, I heard about the situation with your daad.” She shook her head. “Foolish, I’d say, making such a change at his age, but there’s no talking to men.”
The last thing Naomi wanted to do was encourage any gossip. “I’m happy he and Betty found each other,” she said, monitoring her tone. “And even though it was difficult to move the bees, this will be a better situation in the end, I think.”
“That’s how life works out sometimes, ain’t so? The things we think are a disaster turn out to be God’s way of putting us on a new path.”
Naomi stared at her. She wouldn’t have expected such an observation from Sarah, who seemed as busy and content with her life as one of the worker bees.
“I guess that’s so,” she said, not wanting to inquire into Sarah’s reason for saying it.
Sarah darted another glance toward the children. The boys had deserted the coloring and were starting to build something with the wooden blocks from the toy box in the corner.
“At least with you here, th
ere’s no chance Jessie will be trying to take over.” Sarah had lowered her voice, even though the children seemed well occupied. “That’s what I was worried about most with Emma leaving.”
Naomi shouldn’t talk about Jessie with Sarah, but surely, since Sarah had brought it up, it would be appropriate to mention Jessie’s effort.
“Jessie came by yesterday with just that thought in mind,” she said. “But Nathan made it clear that I’d be watching the kinder.”
“Gut.” Sarah spoke firmly. “Sometimes I think he’s too determined not to hurt Jessie’s feelings, but she really can’t be left with the kinder. I hope Jessie didn’t make too much of a fuss.”
Naomi wouldn’t forget Jessie’s shrill demands in a hurry. “Nathan handled it,” she said.
“Gut,” Sarah said again, and then she smiled, looking like the freckle-faced tomboy she’d once been. “Though Nathan probably didn’t think it so gut. Men never want to deal with women’s emotions.”
Naomi just smiled, determined not to be drawn into that subject. “Joshua and Sadie are dears, and I’m wonderful glad to have this opportunity to know them better.”
“They are gut kinder,” Sarah said, watching as Sadie pointed out the apple purses she’d made to her smaller cousin. “Joshua should be in school this year, don’t you think?”
Caught off-guard, Naomi nodded, then quickly backed up. “It’s Nathan’s decision. If he doesn’t think the boy is ready—”
“Ach, Nathan can see for himself that Joshua is ready if he has eyes in his head.” Sarah sounded frustrated. “I told him and told him Joshua should start to school this year, but he wouldn’t listen, because he didn’t want to hear. Nathan couldn’t handle the thought of Joshua going off on his own.” A shadow crossed her face, chasing away her exasperated look. “Nathan has been like that ever since Ada died, as if he can stop anything bad from happening to those kinder by keeping them close. The truth of it is that he’s never gotten over losing Ada that way, and I fear he never will.”