The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1) (27 page)

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Authors: Kelly Irvin

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Beekeeper, #Amish, #Country, #God, #Creation, #Scarred, #Tragic, #Accident, #Fire, #Bee's, #Family Life, #Tennessee, #Letter, #Sorrow, #Joy, #Future, #God's Plan, #Excuse, #Small-Town, #New, #Arrival, #Uncover, #Barren

BOOK: The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1)
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“Butch, enough!”

Butch ceased his caterwauling, circled the group, and plopped down next to Caleb, his intent to guard the boy apparent in the low growl still emanating from his throat. Phineas tugged Caleb back from a big, shimmering blob burrowed in the sand. At first glance, Caleb probably mistook it for a plastic bag filled with water and thrown on the beach like trash. On closer inspection, it looked like an iridescent balloon ready to pop.

Phineas knelt next to Abigail, keeping his distance from the sea creature, which for all intents and purposes had only been doing what came naturally to it. “It’s a jellyfish.”

Daed squatted on the other side of the boy. “Yep, those fellers are a nasty lot.”

“It hurts.” Caleb moaned and put a hand out as if to rub his foot. “It feels like my foot is on fire. Stephen said I shouldn’t come. He was right.”

“Stephen doesn’t know much about these things.” Phineas glanced at Abigail. Her fair skin, already pink from the sun, reddened. He grabbed a handful of wet sand and dumped it on the red, swelling welts on Caleb’s leg. He wanted to tell the boy that Stephen’s words came from jealousy and nothing more, but he didn’t. Caleb was too young to understand man-woman things. “A little sand and mud will help.”

“Hey, hey!” Caleb squirmed and pulled away. “Don’t do that.”

“He’s removing the stingers. They’re like little tiny harpoons and they have poison in them. We have to get them out.”
Mordecai put both hands on Caleb’s shoulders and held him still. “Esther, run to the van and get the vinegar and the first aid kit. They’re in the back.”

They always came prepared. The little ones always seemed to have to learn this lesson the hard way. Don’t mess with jellyfish.

“You Lantz kinner have never seen a jellyfish before.” Mordecai shoved his hat back as he surveyed the concerned faces of Caleb’s sisters. Phineas recognized that tone. Daed was about to give a lecture. The man should’ve been a teacher. “This here is a garden-variety jellyfish. They sting their food to catch it.”

“That’s an animal?” Abigail wrinkled a nose already turning pink with sunburn. “Where’s its mouth?”

“Don’t encourage him.” Phineas took the bottle from a puffing Esther’s outstretched hand. He removed the bottle cap and poured vinegar over the welts, then dried them. “You’ll just get more of a lecture.”

“A jellyfish is an invertebrate animal.” Daed tapped his temple with one long finger. “It has no brain, no head, no bones, heart, ears, or eyes. It’s basically a big belly with a nervous system.”

“How did it know to sting me?” Daed’s tactic had worked. Caleb was so interested in his lecture, he forgot to be in pain. “He didn’t see me coming.”

“It has a nervous system. Its tentacles come in contact with something, it shoots out stingers. That’s how it gets food.” Daed began applying an ointment that would reduce the itching and pain. “You’re lucky it’s just a jellyfish. The Portuguese man-of-war is the one you want to avoid. It’s purple and kind of pretty, but the venom can kill you.”

Abigail sighed. Phineas glanced at the woman next to him. Her gaze was fastened on his daed, her expression a strange mix of
concern and bewilderment. She looked mesmerized. He glanced from her to Mordecai. His daed’s gaze skipped from the kinner to Abigail, who immediately ducked her head.

His daed was showing off for Abigail Lantz. Phineas couldn’t help it. He grinned.

Gott was good. Why hadn’t Phineas seen the thing going on between his father and Abigail before? Because he’d been too wrapped up in his own messy feelings. Too selfish.

Let Daed tell his stories. What impressed a woman never ceased to amaze Phineas. He wasn’t a storyteller and never would be. Mordecai told the best stories Phineas had ever heard. The stories were true, but he and his brothers and sister had heard them hundreds of times. Along with the admonition: Stay away from creatures that might inflict pain and hurt.

“We’re all done.” Phineas patted Caleb’s shoulder. “Time to go.”

Daed handed Esther the first aid kit and turned to Caleb. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the van. There’re spigots in the parking lot. Everyone can wash off the sand before getting back in the van. It’s time to eat lunch anyway.”

Still grinning to himself, Phineas turned to lead the way until Butch took over, glancing back every few seconds as if to question why it took humans so long to cover such a short distance. The second Phineas squeezed into the van, clothes wet and sticky, Deborah plopped into the seat next to him. She shouldn’t. The others would notice. They always sat boys in one row, girls in the next.

“Go away.” He whispered the words while fumbling at the seat belt he never failed to buckle on every trip. The smell of sweat, ocean, and wet dog made his stomach roil. “Sit with the girls.”

“You had been to this beach the day of the crash.” Her voice was soft, meant for his ears only. “Why did Mordecai bring you
here? It must’ve caused you pain. What made him think it would help you sleep better?”

“The pain was no worse than what I already carried with me.” Phineas faced the window, ignoring the peanut butter sandwich wrapped in wax paper she extended toward him. “He knew this was the last happy place I would ever be.”

“You’ve never been happy again?”

Phineas glanced at her. Emotion lit her blue eyes like fire in a woodstove, leaping and dancing in the air. She looked as if a wave of sadness took her breath away. He didn’t want her to be sad for him. He had enough sadness for them both. “I’ve learned to be at peace. Most of the time. Until now.”

“Until now?”

“I’d learned to not want what I can’t have.”

Her frown said she didn’t understand what he tried so hard to tell her. “What can’t you have?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

Her expression still puzzled, she laid the sandwich on his knee without touching him. “Fine. Eat.”

She didn’t intend to ask him the question again. He breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re bossy.”

She smiled. “I’ve been told that.”

“Not a quality a good Plain fraa should have.”

“Plain women run households full of children. Bossy is all they can be.” She unwrapped her sandwich, took a bite, and chewed, her expression thoughtful. After a while she swallowed. “You’re good with the kinner.”

“As a man should be.”

“Not all are.” Her expression said she undoubtedly was thinking of Stephen. “Some leave it to the women and don’t learn to be daeds.”

“Or maybe they just need time to learn.”

Her eyebrows rose and her nose wrinkled. She had a nice nose. “I suppose.”

“They need their . . . the women to be patient with them. To let them figure some things out, learn how to do some things.”

Would she hear what he was saying?

“I think I might find peace here too.”

“Here?”

“In Texas.”

Phineas’s fingers tightened on his sandwich. Grape jam squeezed from the ragged sides of the white bread and dripped on the wax paper. His heart did a strange two-step that made it hard to breathe. “Why?”

“I can see it through your eyes now. I see how a cactus and a straggly bush passing for a tree and flat fields of milo can be pretty.”

“How?”

“It has to do with the person who’s doing the looking.”

“Jah.”

“That goes for people too.”

What was she telling him in that weird, roundabout way women had? “It does?”

“Gott made them beautiful.” She nodded, her gaze solemn, eyes sad beyond measure. “One of these days I hope you’ll see things through my eyes too.”

TWENTY-NINE

The palm tree–lined street that led to the international bridge between Weslaco and Progreso teemed with people and cars streaming south through checkpoints manned by men in green uniforms that were dark with sweat around their necks, backs, and under their arms. They wore guns on their hips. The air held the stench of sweat and human waste mingled with the sweet scent of pineapple sold by vendors and meat grilling on spits at street-side restaurants with doors flung open. Abigail sidestepped a cluster of barefoot children, all with dirty faces, all with their hands out, and all speaking a language she didn’t understand.

She couldn’t help but look back at them as Leroy and Mordecai hustled their little group through the doors and into a building filled with cool, damp air. The children’s expressions spoke words any mother would understand.
I’m hungry. I’m tired. Feed me. Help me.
The mother in her wanted to go back and share what was left of her lunch with them. Filled with uncertainty and a strange sense of unreality, she hugged her canvas bag to her chest. Inside, tucked in her coin bag, lay the passport card that
had arrived in the mail a few days earlier. The card featured the first and only photo she’d ever willingly taken.

“It’s okay. We’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s necessary for us.” Susan held one of the double glass doors open for her. “It’s a little discombobulating the first time, but I really enjoy coming here. Mexico is so different. It’s colorful and noisy. Different from being out in the middle of nowhere, that’s for sure.”

If Leroy thought it was all right for them to do this, it must be all right. He’d drawn the holy lot. Abigail understood the reasoning. Buying medicine and going to the dentist across the border helped them stretch their funds. “Are you sure the kinner will be all right?” She asked the question for the third time, afraid the others would become impatient with her uncertainty. Parents decided if they would lift the ban on photos for their children. Hers didn’t need medical attention, so she’d chosen not to get passport cards for them, but she hadn’t realized she would be leaving them in such a vulnerable place while she traipsed by foot over a bridge into a foreign country. “No one will tell them to move or leave?”

Or worse, take them to jail for loitering too close to the border.

“They’ll be fine. We’ve done this many times. They know to stay together. They know this is no place to mess around.” Mordecai waved his passport card. “Be ready to show your card.”

“Didn’t you feel strange getting your photo taken?” She blurted the question, her neck and ears suddenly hot. Stephen had chosen not to be a part of this expedition, even though his teeth could use some work. He hadn’t been happy with her choice, but she had an aching tooth and dwindling savings. “After so many years of being told to turn away?”

“I know many of our kind who take their families to Mexico
for medical treatment. This is a concession that makes sense, like having a phone in the store.” Mordecai showed no signs of impatience as he shuffled forward in a line thirty people deep. “It helps the business thrive, which helps keep our families together. We do this in order to make sure our district survives.”

Abigail understood all that. Leroy had offered the rule long before she and her family had arrived in Bee County. Still, whenever she glanced at the photo on the card she felt a shiver of apprehension.

The man behind the counter glanced from her card to her face and back in a split second. He handed it back and waved her on with barely an acknowledgment of her existence. She pushed through another set of double doors and stepped back into the blazing sun behind Mordecai, Susan, Naomi, and Leroy. A few more steps along the bridge, which featured a medallion settled into the cement at that spot that divided the United States from Mexico, and she, Abigail Lantz, stood on foreign soil. Slowing to peek over the edge at the scant waters of the Rio Grande, she giggled aloud. Who would’ve thought it possible?

“Are you coming?” Mordecai called. “We need to be quick about it and get back to the van. It’s a long drive home.”

“Jah, jah.” She rushed to catch up. “Sorry.”

“I understand.” He grinned. “Even after all these years, I still like coming here to see what I can see.”

“I’ll take Susan and Naomi to the doctor.” Leroy’s expression said he didn’t think much of what he was seeing. “Mordecai, you show Abigail where the dentist is. Stay there until we come find you. We’ll return across together.”

“Maybe we should all stay together.” Naomi’s frown seemed to settle squarely on Abigail. “It would be more . . . seemly.”

“We don’t have time for that.” Leroy took off across the bridge, impatience evident in his long stride and hunched shoulders. “Be quick about it.”

Abigail scampered after them, trying not to be distracted by the teeming masses around her. So much to see. The stores all opened directly onto the street, their wares spilling out in sidewalk displays. Many of the signs were in English and even the Spanish words like
farmacía
looked familiar. Everywhere, children begged for money and adults called out, “Miss, miss, one dollar, one dollar.”

Blankets, huge straw hats with cones for tops, jewelry, masks, furniture, leather goods, candy, dresses covered with all colors of embroidered designs, liquor, papier-mâché animals. Abigail touched a turquoise-colored dress, marveling at the intricate embroidery of row after row of multicolored flowers done by some skillful seamstress. She turned to a large papier-mâché donkey hanging from a hook on the ceiling. Whatever did a person need a paper donkey for?

“Those are called piñatas.” Mordecai’s voice close to her ear startled her. How did he know she had this question? “Folks fill them with candy at birthday parties and the kids whack them with sticks until they break and everyone gets a treat.”

“And this is fun?”

“The kinner think so.”

“I wouldn’t like hitting things, but I like candy.” She touched a ceramic lizard painted in greens and reds. “So much stuff.”

Mordecai nodded. “Most of it is of little use.”

The crowd jostled them. Abigail stumbled and found herself toppling from the curb. Mordecai grabbed her arm and tugged her back. Her momentum sent her against his chest. His
blue-green eyes widened as his big hands wrapped around her waist and held her. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.” If she could melt into the sidewalk, she would. “How far to the dentist office?”

“Only two more blocks. Look, roasted corn. Would you like one?” He tugged a bill from the brim of his hat. “Add some lime juice and a little chili. You’ll like it, you’ll see. Just remember not to chew on the side that hurts.”

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