Naomi’s Christmas (9 page)

He stared at her for a moment, angry and baffled, it seemed. Then, without a word,
he turned and stalked out.

Naomi stood where she was, glad of the sturdy table beneath her hand, trying to deal
with the pain and doubt he left behind.

The mist that clung to the valleys on November mornings had already vanished, chased
away by the sun, when Nathan sent his buggy horse into the field behind the barn with
a pat of the horse’s rump. Coalie trotted up to greet the mare, then whisked around
and broke into a canter across the frosty grass. Something about the nip in the air
must have invigorated the horses, unlike the Herefords, whose placid dispositions
never seemed to change.

Sometimes he wished people were as easy to deal with as animals. He leaned on the
fence instead of rushing on to another chore. By November, with the corn harvested
and plenty of hay in the loft, things eased up a bit even on a dairy farm, so he could
spare a few minutes to look at the fields spreading out toward the woods and then
the ridge in the distance.

He’d been relieved to see Naomi her usual serene self this
morning. He’d been unhappy over his curtness with her about Jessie, even though he’d
tried to make amends.

His fingers tightened on the rough plank fence. Jessie couldn’t be left alone with
the children. Ada had been the first to admit that truth, and she’d certainly known
her little sister as well as anyone. Emma had agreed, and as long as she was here,
Jessie had never so much as shown an interest in watching them.

So what had caused her to get that bee in her bonnet about being the proper person
to care for Joshua and Sadie while Emma was away? With Jessie, it was impossible to
tell. She was a creature of whims, like a flighty horse that would take exception
to a bit of paper blowing across the road.

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 eyes 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.