The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1) (29 page)

Deborah picked up her share of the load and turned. Immediately two children appeared in their path. They looked to be about Caleb’s age, a boy and a girl, both so thin she could see
their bones protruding in their arms and legs. Both were barefoot and their dark hair hadn’t seen a brush in a long time. The boy wore a dirty gray T-shirt and ragged shorts while the girl’s faded dress looked more like a flour sack than clothing. The dirt on her face didn’t hide the bruises that darkened her brown skin. Her bottom lip was swollen and blood had dried on the end of her nose. The boy held out his hand. “Mister, mister! Helado. Ice cream. Hungry.”

“They want our ice cream?” Deborah glanced from Esther, who’d already devoured a good portion of her ice cream bar, to Phineas. His gaze was locked on the girl. “Phineas?”

“Who did that to you?” He spoke to the girl. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Our
papá
,” the boy answered for her. “We no bring money.
Pow-pow
.”

He mimed punches being thrown. “Our job bring money.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have any money.” Phineas’s tone was gentle and regretful. “I wish we did.”

The little girl blinked back tears. Butch inched forward, his nose nudging her dirty hand. The girl disappeared behind her brother, her hands in the pockets of her dress. The boy shrugged. “She no like
perros.
Dogs.” He grinned. “Ice cream, she like.”

“Butch won’t hurt you. He’s a nice dog. We have ice cream.” Phineas tugged Butch back with one hand while he held out the sack with the other. The boy’s grin widened. Phineas pulled it back. “If it’s all right with you, Deborah.”

She nodded. Who could say no to these two waiflike little ones? Their job was to walk the streets begging and, if they didn’t bring home money, be beaten. “We still have sandwiches in the van. And oranges. Cookies.”

The supplies were for the trip back, but they’d all eaten plenty
on the drive to Weslaco. Phineas’s smile appeared. Deborah’s breath caught in her throat. The scars disappeared and she caught a glimpse of a boy who liked to blow pink bubbles, fish, and swim in the ocean.

“Come on.” Phineas jerked his head toward the van. The boy skipped to keep up, but the girl seemed entrenched in the cement. “Let’s go. We won’t hurt you. We have
comida
.”

“What’s her name?” Deborah didn’t know how much the boy understood, but his English had been good so far.

“
Nombre
? Isabela. I’m Javier.”

“Isabela. Come. Please. We won’t hurt you.”

The girl swiped at her dirty face with an equally dirty arm. Javier grabbed her hand and tugged her forward.
“Vámonos.”

In minutes, they were situated inside the van. Mr. Carson cranked up the air and the two children devoured their ice cream before it could melt, and then sandwiches, oranges, and cookies. No one complained about sharing their food, not even Caleb, who loved ice cream more than venison steak.

Phineas kept adding food to their paper plates, first more chips, then an apple, followed by Deborah’s oatmeal cookies. The boy wolfed them all down, his gaze darting from the plate to Caleb as if he feared the other boy would steal his food. Deborah caught Phineas’s gaze. He leaned toward her. “Thank you for being willing to share.”

“It was your idea to share the ice cream.” She patted her belly. “I could skip a meal or two and not notice it.”

“Not really.” He cocked his head, his gaze traveling head to foot. “Like I said before, you’re a little scrawny.”

“Am not.”

The grin reappeared. She shook her head. Phineas could be
a tease and he took enjoyment from teasing her. She’d seen that grin on this trip more than in the entire time she’d been in Bee County. Was it the change in scenery or the company?

“We go now.” Javier wiped grape jam on his shirt and tugged on the van door. “We work now.”

“Wait.” Mr. Carson had been watching over the impromptu feast with a thoughtful look on his face. He tugged a long leather billfold from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s a little to tide you over.”

He handed Javier a ten-dollar bill. The boy’s face split open in a wide grin that revealed two missing teeth. “Gracías,
señor,
gracías.”

Isabela, who’d mostly hidden behind her brother in the van, popped out long enough to join the chorus. “Gracías.”

“God bless you.” Mr. Carson waved them away. “Take care.”

They scuttled away, still exclaiming in Spanish.

“Thank you, Mr. Carson.” Phineas repeated the boy’s story. “I was afraid they would get slapped around again by their father if they came home without money.”

Shaking his head, Mr. Carson chuckled. “More than likely they fed you a line of bull.”

“What do you mean?”

“They learn to tell tourists what they want to hear. The bigger the sob story, the better they do.” Mr. Carson snorted when he laughed. “More than likely the girl got beat up fighting with another beggar over something they found in a Dumpster behind one of these restaurants.”

Phineas’s frown said he didn’t believe Mr. Carson. Or didn’t want to believe him. “So why did you give them money?”

Mr. Carson sipped from a soda can and then burped gently. “You did a good thing, bringing them here, feeding them what
little you had. That’s a generous spirit. They’ll remember that and maybe somewhere down the line, they’ll pay it forward.”

“Even if they took advantage of us?”

“They were hungry and you fed them. They were thirsty for more than just water, and you gave them what they needed. They’ll remember your kindness. They might think twice about pulling the wool over someone else’s eyes.”

“They’ll remember the ten bucks you gave them.” Caleb groaned. “And my ice cream bar.”

Esther laughed. “Just like you to think of your ice cream.”

“Easy for you to say. You ate yours before they could get it.”

This time everyone laughed. Phineas slid from his seat and stood outside the van. Deborah took the opportunity to do the same, closing the door behind her. Phineas began to stalk up and down in the narrow space between the van and an RV. Deborah wanted to grab his arm and make him stand still. “He’s right. Helping someone can’t be wrong, even if they don’t appreciate it or they try to take advantage of you.”

“I feel . . . swindled.”

“You can rest easy knowing your heart is in the right place.”

He stopped pacing, his back to her. “What do you know about my heart?”

“Why are you like this with me?”

He traced a crack in the asphalt with his boot. “I don’t know.”

Deborah turned to open the van door.

“Did you know your mudder likes my daed and he likes her?”

She stopped, her hand on the door. “Jah.”

“What do you think of that?”

She turned to face him. “I think it’s a private thing between them only.”

“And what about Stephen?”

“I don’t think we pick the people we lieb.” Of that she was sure or she wouldn’t be standing here in the blazing sun talking to the most stubborn, prickly, know-it-all man in the world. In her world. He filled up her world, whether she liked it or not. Mostly she didn’t. Like it. “I pray every day that Gott’s will be done. Then I pray that Gott will favor Mordecai.”

“For his sake or for yours?”

Phineas was also a very smart man. “Both. And for my mudder’s sake. Your daed has waited twelve years. He’s kind. He’s good. He’s . . . funny.”

“You like him?”

“Jah.” She sighed and turned back to the van. She didn’t want him to see the feeling she couldn’t hide. “I do.”

“Give me time.”

Deborah had given him time. She would give him more. She had no choice. That didn’t mean she had to like it. She tugged open the door and climbed in, ignoring Esther’s curious look from where she sat in the middle row. She shut the door and left Phineas standing in the blistering heat of the midafternoon sun a few yards from Mexico.

Deborah felt as if she were the one wandering alone in a foreign country.

Phineas raised his face to the sun. The heat felt good. Sweat slid from his temples into his hair, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. Deborah’s question reverberated in his head. Why was he like that with her? Why couldn’t he let down his guard and keep
it down? Because he couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen when she saw the real him. It had nothing to do with his face or his scars. How could a woman like Deborah Lantz have any interest in someone so messed up inside? Inside and out.

He kicked at a rock and stubbed the toe of his boot. “Whatever,” he muttered.

The van door slid open and he turned, thinking he would have another chance to explain himself to Deborah. Or defend himself, he wasn’t sure which it was. Instead, Esther popped through the door and hopped onto the steamy asphalt. She slung the door shut, turned, and planted her feet, hands on her hips. “What are you doing out here, besides getting heatstroke and sunburn?”

“I like the heat.” He turned his back on his sister. “Feels good on my face.”

He could say that to Esther. She had a way about her that was different from his brothers, who always seemed to be looking for a way to avoid the obvious. They worked side by side for days on end but, by silent agreement, kept their mouths shut. She shrugged and leaned against the van, arms crossed. “What were you and Deborah jawing about?”

“None of your business.”

“When did that ever stop me?”

Phineas snorted. Esther was so like their father. She had more opinions than their momma cat had kittens. Which was saying plenty. “We were talking about Daed and her mudder.”

“I reckon everyone can see what’s going on there. What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?”

“You’re an idiot, bruder.”

“Name calling is never necessary.”

“It’s not name calling when it’s true.”

“Whatever you’re wanting to say, schweschder, spit it out.”

Esther straightened and sauntered over to stand next to him, her back to the van. “What I’m saying is Deborah got into the van just now looking like she lost her best friend. It’s obvious she likes you. It’s also obvious you like her. The problem is so do others.”

A band like leather tightened around Phineas’s chest. He struggled to draw a breath. He bent and scooped up another rock. It felt hot in his hand. He tightened his fingers around it until the sharp edges bit into his skin, a bittersweet pain. Others. Who? He flung the rock at a cement-and-dirt median bereft of plant life. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw Will Glick talking to her at a singing.” Esther’s voice softened. “I see the way he looks at her during church. He’s biding his time, working up his courage. He doesn’t have a lot of choices when it comes to courting and Deborah will make a good fraa. What I’m saying is she has shown herself to be a kind person who longs to have something more with you. The question is what do you want?”

The sun had nothing to do with the heat that scorched Phineas’s face. He longed to walk away, but he had nowhere to go in this town bordering on a foreign country. He wanted his open fields and his beehives. He wanted to stop talking and hear the wind blow and the bees buzzing with contentment. Will Glick wanted to court Deborah. Phineas shouldn’t be surprised, yet he found it hard to draw a breath. “Not something I plan to talk to you about. It’s private.”

“I may be younger than you, but I know more about this man-woman stuff.” Esther sounded pleased with that fact. “I know how Deborah feels. I feel that way about someone too. Her heart is vulnerable to you. It’s a gift. Take it before someone else does.”

She spun around and opened the van door, to Phineas’s great relief. Esther couldn’t understand. She was his sister, but even he could see she was pleasing to the eye and she might think he didn’t know, but he had eyes in his head. Her special friend, Adam Glick, was unmarred as well. A hard worker and faithful. He would make a good husband for Esther.

Phineas worked hard at being solitary. He had his beehives and his bird-watching. He liked living alone on his little farm on the back road. He didn’t like singings or social frolics. When he smashed into that highway face-first, he’d lost more than his looks, he’d lost a piece of his heart. In all these years, he hadn’t found a way to replace it.

Esther looked back. “She’s what you’ve been looking for, bruder. She’s the peace you need.”

She closed the van door behind her with a bang.

Peace. Phineas closed his eyes. A tiny sprout of hope burst from the barren soil in his heart and stretched, green and fresh, toward the sun.
Gott, please.

It wasn’t much of a prayer, but it was more than he’d mustered in a long time. He had no right to ask for anything, but in this moment, in this place in time, his heart’s desire was stronger than any guilt or remorse, any shame.

Please.

THIRTY-ONE

Flopping one hand in the air to ward off a swarm of mosquitoes, Deborah ripped open the envelope the second she plopped down on the back step. Her favorite place for reading letters. No one looked over her shoulder or clamored for her to read aloud. She was selfish. She wanted to absorb Frannie’s letter first, before she had to share her news with everyone. Frannie was a cousin and family, so the letter was considered fair game for everyone even though it was addressed to Deborah. But knowing Frannie, this would be a letter to be read in private first.