Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

Like a Bee to Honey (14 page)

BOOK: Like a Bee to Honey

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Josiah didn't think he believed that. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss, but his opinion didn't matter. Dan had already opened his big mouth.

Dan put down his spoon. “Amos at the harness shop remembers at least three of the
Englischers
who bought that kind of pocketknife from him last month. He gave us their names and addresses. Tomorrow, Luke and Josiah and I are going to go to their houses and see if any of them have a brown car like the one that almost drove off with Poppy's hand.”

Deep lines gathered around Rose's mouth. “You could get hurt.”

Josiah leaned forward and gave Rose a reassuring gaze. “We're just going to look for cars.”

Poppy placed her palm on the side of Luke's face, eliciting a growl from Aunt Bitsy. “I should go with you. I'm the only one who has actually seen one of their faces.”

Luke shook his head. “Nope. You're not going anywhere near those houses.”

“That's what you think,” Poppy said.

Rose seemed to be unable to catch her breath. “So it
is
dangerous.”

Josiah couldn't stand to see Rose frightened. “It's not dangerous.”

Rose didn't believe him. “But then why doesn't Luke want Poppy to go?”

“All we're looking for is a brown car,” he said. “If we find one, Bitsy can call the sheriff.”

It felt like a jolt of lightning when Rose reached out her hand and grabbed his. “Please don't go. Any of you. There's got to be another way. Maybe they won't come back anymore. Maybe slashing the buggy is the last thing they'll ever do.”

That wasn't very likely, but Josiah didn't say it. “We still want to find out who it is.”

She squeezed Josiah's hand harder as her eyes pooled with tears. “I don't care if we ever catch them.” She blinked, and two teardrops splashed onto the table. “I'd be sick if something bad happened to one of you.”

“We'll be okay, Rose,” Luke said. “We've all been baptized. You know we'll leave at the first sign of trouble.”

“What if you can't leave fast enough?” Tears rolled down her face as she stared at Josiah. “Please don't go.”

No matter how badly he wanted to catch the troublemakers, Josiah would have crawled to Canada and back to make Rose happy. He could certainly never refuse anything she asked.

He laid his other hand over hers so her hand was snugly sandwiched between both of his. “If you don't want me to, then I won't.”

A sigh of profound relief escaped from between her lips.
“Denki.”

He wished he could sit there forever, holding Rose's hand safely within his own, but Bitsy was already eyeing him as if he had a bad smell. With great reluctance, he pulled both of his hands away, retrieved a tissue from his pocket, and handed it to Rose.

She stared at him as if he'd just saved her cats from certain death. “You brought tissue.”

“I promised I'd always have some just in case.”

She sniffled and smiled. His heart fluttered like a bird in flight.

Bitsy tapped her hand on the table. “That's all fine and good that Josiah has tissues, but we still need to figure out how to catch the troublemakers. They tried to burn down my honey house. I don't take kindly to someone who likes to play with fire.”

Luke looked none too happy that he wouldn't be able to search for the knife owner. He sat back and folded his arms. “Bitsy, maybe you could tell the police what we know and ask them to look.”

It wasn't the Amish way to involve the police with anything, but Bitsy had lived as an
Englischer
for twenty years and she wasn't touchy about such things. Today, Josiah was secretly glad that Bitsy didn't act like a normal Amish
frau.
They needed all the help they could get to keep the Honeybee sisters safe.

“I'll call the sheriff again,” Bitsy said, “but some days I wonder if he's very smart. He keeps calling me Misty, and the last time he was here, he left his badge on my counter. I pinned it on and called myself âOfficer Baxter' for two days.”

Poppy giggled. “And Farrah Fawcett still ignored you.”

Rose finished wiping her tears. “You wrote three parking tickets.”

Everyone laughed. Josiah studied Rose's face. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on, even with the constant worry lines around her eyes. He was more determined than ever to find out who was making all the trouble on the farm. Rose would not be truly happy until she felt safe. Josiah would not be truly happy until he was sure Rose was out of danger.

Despite Bitsy's protests, Luke had three helpings of peach crumble with ice cream. Josiah would have licked his plate if it weren't impolite. After dessert, they did up the dishes. Lily handed Josiah a dish towel, and he and Rose dried.

A loud knock drew everyone's attention to the door. Luke held up his hand to tell Poppy to stay where she was, but Poppy pretended she had no idea what he was trying to communicate. Dan strode to the door, and Luke and Poppy joined him there. Josiah sidled closer to Rose and positioned himself so he stood between her and whoever was on the other side.

Griff Simons, big and thick and as surly as a bull with a burr in his rump, stood on the porch with a police officer stationed close behind him. Luke tried to nudge Poppy behind him. She wouldn't budge. Luke's scowl could have melted all the ice cream in the freezer.

Griff wasn't as tall as Josiah, and he looked even shorter because he hunched over as if he was just about ready to try to touch his toes. With his neck and arms as thick as tree trunks, he would have been a pretty
gute
match for Luke in an arm-wrestling contest. On his right forearm, he sported a tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.

Josiah's anger flared like his own private forest fire. Griff had tried to kiss Rose. Josiah didn't even want to contemplate what he would have done if he had been there. He glanced at Rose. Lily hooked her arm around Rose's waist, and they stood as still as stone pillars.

“Can we help you?” Luke said through clenched teeth. Josiah could tell he was trying to be as friendly as possible even though he wasn't very good at it.

The officer kept a hand on Griff's arm as he stepped forward. “Is Frau Misty here?”

Bitsy gave a low growl, one that only those nearest to her could hear, and pushed Luke and Poppy aside to get to the door. “What can I do for you, deputy?”

The deputy was a good head shorter than Griff with a pudgy face and a stomach that hung a few inches over his belt. He spoke as if he were too lazy to move his lips. “Remember when someone tried to burn down your barn a couple of weeks ago?”

“I think I remember that,” Bitsy said with a straight face.

The deputy nodded. “Griff went to the emergency room that same day with second-degree burns on his arms. It looked suspicious, so the hospital reported it to us.”

“I didn't do anything,” Griff protested.

“You can speak when you're spoken to,” the deputy said.

Griff shut his mouth. The deputy's size and demeanor weren't all that intimidating, but a badge and a gun were probably enough to keep any kid quiet, at least temporarily.

The deputy sniffed the air. “I can arrest him if you want, but I know you Amish don't like going to court. I thought I'd let you have a talk with him first.”

“I appreciate that,” Bitsy said, squinting in Griff's direction. “Griff Simons, you've given us quite a bit of trouble. Are you still mad at Poppy for punching you in the face?”

The deputy frowned. “Who punched him in the face? That's assault.”

“Water under the bridge, deputy,” Bitsy said, her gaze pinned squarely on Griff. “Did you set fire to my honey house?”

The deputy glanced up at Griff. “She means the barn. Did you try to burn down their barn?”

Bitsy didn't even correct him. “Did you set that fire, Griff?”

Griff seemed to grow smaller, as if he were ashamed he had been dragged over here in the first place. “I haven't never been on your property except when my dad brought me.”

“Are you telling me the truth?” Bitsy said.

“Yeah.” Griff scowled and held out his hands so they could see the fading burn marks and old scabs on his arms. No wonder he had gone to the hospital. “I burned myself when I tripped and fell into the campfire.” His eyes shifted between Bitsy and the deputy.

Josiah pressed his lips together. Griff Simons was lying. But which part of his story was a lie?

“He did it, all right,” the deputy said, getting worked up enough to move his lips. He drew a cigarette lighter from his pocket. “I found this in his room.”

Bitsy scrunched her lips together, propped her hands on her hips, and fell silent. They waited as she stared at Griff. “Have you had a yeast infection lately? Or the chicken pox?”

Griff slowly shook his head as if leery of being led into a trap. “No.”

She looked up at the ceiling. “Lord, are You purposefully trying to annoy me? I know Your ways are not my ways, but can't our ways align with each other every once in a while?” Not taking her eyes from the ceiling, she paused as if she were waiting for an answer. After a few seconds, she threw up her hands. “He didn't do it, deputy,” she said. “And now we're going to have to give him a cookie.”

The deputy didn't seem to like her answer, but he didn't argue. He'd probably dealt with Amish people often enough to be familiar with their ways. “Okay, then. If you're sure.”

“I'm sure,” Bitsy said, seemingly irritated to have to admit it.

“Then I can go?” Griff asked, his tone a mixture of defiance and relief.

“Just a minute.” Bitsy went to the cookie jar and pulled out three cookies the size of saucers. Josiah suspected the Honeybee
schwesters
always had a full cookie jar. Bitsy wrapped the three cookies in a napkin and handed them to the deputy. “Thank you for your
gute
work. We are very grateful.”

The deputy acted as if she'd handed him the keys to a new car. “Thank you, Frau Misty. You know how I like your snickerdoodles.”

“There's more where that came from,” Bitsy said. “Whatever help you can give us is appreciated.”

He nodded. “I'll keep looking for the culprits.” He shoved his thumb in Griff's direction. “And I'll keep an eye on this one. He's always been a troublemaker.”

The deputy turned and walked down the porch steps. Griff turned to follow him.

“Not so fast, Griff,” Bitsy said. “Come in, and sit down.”

Josiah's chest tightened, and for a second he wondered if he'd heard right. Lily and Rose gasped. A look of surprise passed between Luke and Dan. Poppy clenched her fists at her side, probably getting ready just in case of an attack.

Griff narrowed his eyes. Josiah didn't blame him for being wary. They could have cut the suspicion on both sides with a knife. “Why?”

Only Bitsy seemed perfectly at ease, and as grumpy as ever. “Because you need a cookie. And we need to talk.”

Griff eyed Bitsy as if she were luring him into an ambush. “My girlfriend is waiting at the house.”

Josiah very nearly spoke up. Griff couldn't be allowed in the house. He'd scare Rose out of her wits, and under no circumstances was Rose to be frightened. But it wasn't his place to say who was and was not welcome in the Christners' home. He clamped his mouth shut and prayed that Bitsy knew what she was doing.

Just in case, he took a step forward to create a protective perimeter around Rose.

Griff didn't seem inclined to do what Bitsy wanted. He tromped down the porch steps. “I'm not gonna sit and listen to you preach to me about hell or nothing. I didn't do nothing wrong.”

Bitsy narrowed her gaze. “Why don't you come in and have a cookie and tell us how you got those burns.”

A shadow passed over Griff's already-cloudy expression. “My dad don't want trouble with the police.”

Bitsy folded her arms. “Then maybe we should talk about it.”

To Josiah's disappointment, Griff slowly and reluctantly tromped back up the stairs and into the kitchen. Everyone gave him wide berth, as if he might suddenly decide to swing his arms and break somebody's jaw.

Bitsy pulled out a chair at the table. Josiah was kind of surprised when Griff sat down. “Do you like milk with your cookies?”

“I don't want anything,” Griff said. “The deputy told my girlfriend she had to wait at the house.”

“You've come this far,” Bitsy said. “Might as well have a cookie.”

“What kind?”

“We have chocolate chip and snickerdoodles.”

“Chocolate chip,” Griff said, as if he wasn't happy about admitting it.

Everyone in the room seemed rooted to the floor, unable to do anything but stare at Griff and wonder how he had gotten into the house. Bitsy poured Griff a tall glass of milk, put a whole stack of cookies on a plate, and took them to the table. She must have been expecting Griff to eat a lot of cookies. That or she planned on his being here for a long time.

“I need to text my girlfriend.”

“Invite her over. There's plenty of cookies.”

Griff pulled his phone from his pocket, fiddled with the screen, and then put the phone away. Bitsy handed him a napkin and leaned her hands on the table so she could look him in the eye. “How old are you, Griff?”

Griff eyed the cookies, but he didn't touch them. “Eighteen.”

Her piercing gaze could have made a grizzly bear flinch. “Did your dad give you those burns?”

BOOK: Like a Bee to Honey

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