An Amish Flower Farm Read online

  Descending the rise, he saw that a lamp flickered in the front window of his grandmother’s house, indicating she was still up. Mammi seldom waited until nightfall to go to bed, but of course on this night of all nights, when he had Belinda with him, she would still be awake.

  “Just let me tell her we’re out here. Don’t want her coming out with Dawdi’s old shotgun thinking we’re a pair of fool kids up to no good.” Adam laughed, recalling the near heart attack she’d given him the first time she came barreling out the front door holding the gun longer than she was tall. By now Adam was accustomed to her opening the door with it, but it would surely give Belinda a fright.

  Realizing Belinda was no longer strolling alongside him, Adam spun around and immediately spotted the look of terror on her face. He instinctually marched back to her and reached for her hand.

  “It’s not loaded, Belinda. I’m sorry I scared you.” He shook his head. Stress and fatigue were making him dumb. What was he thinking, talking about something that would upset any woman, especially this one?

  He squeezed her hand, adding an extra measure of assurance, and urged her toward May’s front door. “She just keeps an unloaded gun by the door. She likes to have it handy after some kids in town smashed in her mailbox, like, five years ago.” He patted her shoulder with his free hand.

  She shuddered and finally looked up at him. “Why would she dare use one?” He offered a smile, trying to push back the urgent need to make her feel safe that had come without even a hint of warning.

  “She only uses it as a prop, truly. Don’t worry, there aren’t any bullets in the house. I checked.” He squeezed her hand again. “It’s okay. I promise. I wouldn’t lead you into harm’s way,” Adam urged tenderly, and slowly coerced her all the way to the front door before Belinda’s nerves ebbed. She peered down where their hands were joined and immediately pulled herself from his grasp. Adam knocked on the door, then rubbed his hand down his britches leg as if he could wipe away her touch and his own boldness in taking her hand.

  No man had ever touched her, aside from Mica and Daed. Belinda had no time to dissect the gesture or how she felt about it before movement stirred inside and the door opened. May Fisher bounded onto the porch, unarmed. Belinda exhaled slowly.

  “Well hello, sweetie, and oh, you brought a friend.” May did a sidestep around Adam and wrapped Belinda in a hug, causing her to gasp in surprise. She wasn’t used to such affection. Embracing was an uncommon greeting, unless among kin. May smelled strongly of lavender and soap, and happy thoughts. Despite her surprise, Belinda’s smile came easily, though her stomach was still a riot of emotions.

  “Belinda Graber, it has been three months since you came to see me outside of gmay. You shouldn’t ignore your elders, dear,” May winked, shaking a finger at her. Something soft flickered in Adam’s green eyes. Or maybe they were blue. Belinda looked away before she could tell for sure. Was it possible she wasn’t imagining the changing colors? Did eyes change colors?

  “Sorry, May, but with Mamm and Daed gone and the growing season peaking, Mica can use all the hands we’ve got, and I only have two,” Belinda said with a shrug, sending May laughing. She wasn’t used to people laughing with her, only at her appearance and shyness. The change felt nice, in an awkward kind of way.

  “Well, we all can’t be spiders.” May patted her cheek affectionately. “Always was a helper. Another week and I might have been tempted to come drag you out here for tea and kichlin. I have only one grosskind and he never has the time for me.” May shot a stern look toward Adam. One could see the love between them, displayed rather than disguised by the playful banter. Belinda mentally noted to set aside some time this week for tea and kichlin. It must be awful lonesome living alone this far from anyone. May’s little parcel was the last house on Mulberry Lane, a mile to the nearest neighbors—her family and Adam’s.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised that my Adam here brought you over for a visit. I always thought...” Adam cleared his throat before May could go on. Belinda wished she knew what May had been about to say, but brushed off the curiosity.

  “Belinda is helping me this honey season since I’ll be working at the mill.” The grandmother and grandson exchanged a look.

  “Oh she is, is she?” May smiled cunningly. “Well, that’s nice. I did wonder how you would manage working, tending to the livestock, helping Ivan on jobs, and your honey business. I have been needing that old chicken run repaired for months, but didn’t dare mention it.” Now that May had mentioned it, Belinda watched Adam immediately give the small chicken run a quick study, clearly making plans for its repair. How would he do so many jobs and when would he sleep? Realizing she was gaping at him, she quickly lowered her head.

  “I came to show her the hives here at the orchard and didn’t want to startle you if you heard us walking about. I can look at the coop over the weekend, perhaps. I also wanted you to know that Belinda will be over here often, so it would be nice if you could leave Dawdi’s shotgun behind the door and not frighten off my only help.” Adam gave May a wink.

  “Mighty kind of you, and I can try. But I won’t promise.” She waved a stubby finger. “Those pesky kids may return, wanting to smash this mailbox too.” May turned to Belinda. “I’ve had three smashed to pieces, and mailboxes aren’t cheap.” Her voice snapped with anger. Belinda shuddered to think someone would destroy an old lady’s mailbox. Another reason to avoid outsiders, she reminded herself.

  “Adam’s helping me sell my flowers,” she mumbled. She didn’t know why she said that. It was no one’s business, but suddenly she felt the need to say something.

  “Well, Adam has always had a good head on his shoulders. It’s kind of handsome, too.” May reached up and patted his cheek. Belinda knew better than to agree to her words but couldn’t help but grin when Adam’s jaw tightened and his head shook. Family could be embarrassing at times.

  “I’m sure he will do his best to see your flowers fetch a good price.” May tossed a wink back to Adam. “I think you two will make a good match.” Adam shot her a frown.

  “Business partners,” Adam corrected. Belinda nodded in agreement, even as she winced a little at his firm, unhesitating correction.

  “I see. Well, I think you will make good business partners then. You both need each other. It’s good.” She patted Adam’s shoulder. May liked patting to show affection and approval—and dragging someone out of their house by roots and tails to show affection and disapproval.

  “We should get going.” Adam stepped off the little porch.

  “Jah, make sure to walk her home. We wouldn’t want our Belinda here to trip and fall. It’s getting dark.” She quickly slammed the door before Adam could say more.

  “Sorry about that,” Adam said, as they began walking toward the orchard. “Mammi has a habit of speaking her thoughts out loud. It’s hard to be the only kid in a family, and unwed, without kinner for her and my parents to dote over.”

  “It’s okay. You cleared up any curiosity she was having,” Belinda muttered, watching her footing. “Family can be pushy in such matters.” She may have been blessed with siblings, but that just meant there were more people to put pressure on her when she didn’t move through life fast enough to suit them.

  “So you have a pushy family too,” he jested. Belinda didn’t feel comfortable having such a personal conversation with him, so she kept her reply neutral.

  “We are expected to court at a certain age, marry, and have kinner. At least you are courting, so that should make your family happy.”

  “Jah,” Adam said on a sigh. Well, Tabitha must have heard wrong for sure, or Adam would have clarified his and Susanne’s break-up right then.

  When they reached the orchard behind May’s house, a new world came into view. The “small orchard” Adam had referred to consisted of more than twenty trees, all in a full and glorious bloom. It was a hidden treasur
e as perfectly painted as a postcard. “I’ve never been here before.” Belinda stopped and inhaled deeply. There was nothing like the fresh scent of apple blossoms to make spring linger. Two long rows of hives nestled just south of the orchard.

  “But it’s only a mile from your house, and you do visit here sometimes.” Adam stopped and stared at her. He must think her a seltsam, an oddity. He would be right. Her ignorance about this area was her own doing, of course. She was always purposely hiding herself, staying unavailable, which meant she’d had fewer opportunities than most to explore the area. It resulted in her not knowing her surroundings well enough. She didn’t attend singings on Sunday evenings or gatherings in warm weather months, or frolics, unless threatened. Why would she, after barely surviving the heartbreak of cruel words and harsh looks until she finished her schooling in the eighth grade?

  “I don’t make it a habit to go wandering around people’s properties,” she said flatly, and continued toward the hives. And with what she’d recently learned, it was a good thing, too. If May had pulled a gun on her, Belinda surely would have died of shock.

  “You haven’t been to the market and you haven’t seen the orchard a mile from your house.” Was he asking a question? Belinda just shrugged, unwilling to answer either way. It was none of his concern why she preferred staying at home. Fortunately, he didn’t push for a reply.

  “I checked on these just a couple days ago and I think I can start in the next week or so. I’ll let you know, but feel free to see for yourself anytime. These are a good distance from my honey house, so I can fetch them early when we start.”

  A honeybee landed on Belinda’s shoulder, and she carefully fingered it back into flight. “I can meet with your inspector and start some this week, if you’d like.” She nervously twisted a kapp string. “If you try to do too much, you might wear yourself out and I am here to help, ain’t so?”

  “Jah, but I could say the same about you,” he said. staring at her intently again. For a moment they stood there among the hives and low buzz of evening. A chill climbed up her spine until it tickled the hairs on the back of her neck. She broke the gaze first, telling herself that she had nothing to prove by holding it. Adam Hostetler had no idea how she spent her time or how those long looks bothered her.

  “What are those blocks for?” She pointed to the hives sitting firmly on cinder blocks. All his hives were elevated like that.

  “Skunks,” he muttered. Noting her confusion, he continued. “Skunks are a top predator of honeybees. By putting the hives up on blocks, skunks have to stretch to reach into the escape hole to snatch a free meal. It also exposes their soft spot.” Belinda listened intently. She knew skunks raided honey hives, but not that they had soft spots.

  “Their stomachs are where they’re most vulnerable. Forcing them to stretch out for a free meal gives the bees a chance to defend themselves. A few stings send the skunks running.”

  “That is a good idea. I didn’t know that.”

  Adam watched Belinda out of the corner of his eye as they walked back toward the house. Not only was she offering to help, but she seemed eager to start. “I still need to show you the honey house.” He needed time to think. Working with her was going to be trying, that was for sure. He was a man of his word and he had already made a deal with her, but if he could, Adam would erase it all right now. Belinda was going to be far too much of a distraction.

  He walked her home as Mammi had insisted, hands in his pockets, his mind playing his last conversation with Susanne over and over. He wasn’t good enough. He had too many responsibilities. He was a beekeeper. All the reasons why romance was not meant to be an option for him. Anything to distract him from walking alongside Belinda and her quiet innocence and big charitable heart, and those eyes that could almost make a man forget his troubles.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday morning sunlight peeked through barn gaps, descended on leafy branches, and washed over dew-kissed grass in shimmers. Belinda carefully pondered which blossoms to gather for Adam to present to the florist today. In her pocket, she’d already prepared a list of specific plants he could bring. She had a feeling he would need all the information she could provide—she knew better than to expect him to have looked up the names on his own. His lack of enthusiasm for her chosen trade was evident.

  With scissors in hand, she snipped a perfectly mid-blooming snapdragon and closed in on a row of tulips begging to be shown off. There were so few left now. She selected a pink one along with a late blooming hyacinth, adding them to a small bucket where a few pussy willow sprigs awaited in fresh water. She stared at the array of colors and shapes. Something was missing.

  In the greenhouse’s far corner where her parents let her toy with wintering new sprouts, Belinda stared at the flowering hibiscus. A large pink dinner plate bloom would make a perfect addition to her collection, she concluded.

  Content with her choices, she stepped out of the greenhouse and caught sight of the figure strolling through the morning fog toward her garden. His long strides were purposeful and quick, his erect posture solid. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing him. Their encounters left her befuddled, yet craving the next one. Taking a nervous breath, marshalling the thoughts swirling through her head, she stepped out.

  “Gute mariye.”

  Adam halted at the soft sound and began walking toward it until all of her came into view. Just as he suspected, morning light did her the same favors as the glow of dusk. Even in drab grey, she was freshly crisp, a morning jolt to the senses.

  “Do I really have to walk into a florist carrying that little green bucket?” His grin quirked to one side as he pointed to the bucket in her hand. He didn’t allow himself to compliment her morning smile. This was a partnership, nothing more.

  “A deal is a deal, but no. It is just for the travel. You can carry them in your hand and ditch the bucket if you feel better doing so.” She giggled. It was clear even she thought a grown man walking into a florist’s shop with a bouquet would catch some attention.

  Little did she know that before he joined the church, Adam was well known for accepting a good dare. Tobias had always liked stretching the limits of their upbringing as far as he could without crashing over a cliff. Well, there was one cliff, he mused. Adam took the dare and dove right into the lake, earning him “king of the hill” status for a good year or better. He also took full responsibility for hiding all the bishop’s tack early on Sunday morning on the occasion when it had occurred to the twelve-year-old boys that no bishop meant no three-hour church service. And yet, as sure as they’d been that the idea would work, the bishop was standing in the center of the Planks’ living room when they arrived that morning.

  Adam peered up from the flower bucket, pondering. Had quiet Belinda Graber ever done anything reckless in her whole life?

  “The things we do for help around here,” he teased, and took the pail from her hands. “Now what kinds of flowers do I tell her you have?”

  Belinda dug into her pocket and presented the list. Her smile turned into a grin, but a small dimple still winked to be noticed. Something was different about her today. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it. She still had that habit of dipping her chin and lifting her shoulder as if hiding an expression—that much hadn’t changed. He wondered if she did it to hide the cute little mark on her face.

  “Are you always this prepared?”

  “I am.” Her chin tilted upward. She had more pluck than he’d counted on.

  “So am I,” he said, before tipping his hat and disappearing across the road into the mist of waking day.

  Adam secured Honey to a telephone post in the empty parking lot. He reached in and pulled Belinda’s flower collection from the small green pail. Honey snickered. “Yeah, I know. I should have thought this out better.” He looked like a fool, not for talking to his horse, but for carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hand walkin
g down the street. At seven in the morning most of the inhabitants of Havenlee—primarily Englisch—were only just waking up, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward. He hoped the early fog would linger before he was noticed by a familiar face.

  He walked swiftly past the old bookstore, the bakery, and a small brick front that boasted a sign for the best lawyer in town, before he fixed his gaze on the grey siding attachment with floor to ceiling windows.

  At the sound of hooves clopping on pavement, Adam turned. Tobias heading to work. Tobias hadn’t been early for a solitary thing since he was born, and yet he had picked today to head to the mill forty minutes before clocking in. It just figured. Adam groaned inwardly, tightening his hold on the ridiculous bouquet in his hands.

  Tobias tilted his straw hat upward for a better view and threw up a wave, a wide grin spread over his face. Adam scowled and half-waved in a surrendering gesture. Yep, he was going to hear about this for months to come.

  The sign on Swift Florist and Gifts said they didn’t open until eight, but the light inside accompanied by movement urged Adam to knock. Through the glass door, a middle-aged Englisch woman strolled toward him. She wore a cheery smile beneath a head full of brown curls that needed taming desperately.

  She opened the door and stared at him in puzzlement, before her brown eyes landed on the flowers. “Well, it’s not every day a man walks in here carrying flowers.” She chuckled easily and reached out a hand. “I’m Marcy. Marcy Swift. Are those hyacinths?” She stepped out from the doorway, coming closer. “Oh, and you have calla lilies and pussy willows. Where did you find such delicious hibiscus in bloom this time of year?” Her eyes lit up. Adam felt his throat tightening. He had no idea what a hibiscus was, but she seemed impressed he had one. He loosened his grip, hoping he hadn’t caused any damage to the flowers.