He gave her a heavenly smile. “I wouldn’t want anything else.”
She thought she might faint. Or fly. Or float. Her happiness overflowed to fill the entire house. She would be Luke Bontrager’s wife. Oy, anyhow!
Aunt B breathed deep. “It’s going to be a big event. We’ve got to come up with a way to make some money. Maybe we could start by selling the cats.”
Lily gasped in mock horror. “I’d be desolate without Farrah Fawcett.”
Luke held Billy Idol up so they were face-to-face. “I won’t let that mean lady sell you,” he said, talking to Billy Idol as if he were a baby. That cat had wheedled his way into Luke’s heart.
Rose hugged the kitten against her neck. “You can’t sell Fluffy either.”
Aunt B threw up her hands. “All right. I won’t sell the cats, but if that kitten is going to be living with us, she’ll have to be renamed. Fluffy is no name for a cat.”
Luke placed Billy Idol on the floor and winked at Poppy. “We should get to work. There’s no telling how much time we’ll need to repair the honey house.”
Aunt B shot darts at Luke with her eyes. “You’re too cheerful for your own good, Luke Bontrager. No kissing behind the honey house.”
Luke gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Would you prefer we kiss in front of the honey house?”
“No shenanigans in front of or behind the honey house.”
Luke fingered the stubble on his chin. “I’ll think real hard on that, cat lady.”
Poppy giggled at the look on Aunt B’s face. Luke refused to be intimidated.
Billy Idol followed them to the porch, where Luke shut the door behind them and paused to put his arms around Poppy. “I love you with everything I’ve got, Poppy Christner.”
“I love you back.”
“And I promise to always keep you safe.”
Poppy laid a swift kiss on his lips. “We’ll keep each other safe.”
“All the better,” he said as he tugged her in for another kiss. Her heart did a cartwheel across her ribs. The fireworks had already begun.
Billy Idol sat on the mat and watched the shenanigans with that permanent sneer on his lips. He adored Luke. He wouldn’t think of tattling to Aunt B.
Poppy always forgot that Aunt B had a sense about these things. The door swung open and startled Luke and Poppy apart. Luke cleared his throat and tried to act as if he hadn’t been caught doing anything wrong.
It was too late. Aunt B had seen everything. She stood just inside the door with a scowl on her lips and the cat formerly known as Fluffy in her arms. “Luke Bontrager, you have been warned. Stay away from Poppy’s lips, or I’ll throw you off our property.”
Luke did his best to stifle a grin. “You’re right, Bitsy. Poppy is always safe with me. I promise to behave myself.”
“You’d better,” Aunt B said, holding the kitten up as if she were Aunt B’s eyes and ears. “Leonard Nimoy and I will be watching.”
Recipes
Honey Apple Pie
Note from Poppy: If you love honey, you will love this pie! If you like your apple pie more tart, you can decrease the honey to ½ cup. Luke loves it with the full amount of honey and of course, the cinnamon.
Pastry for 2-crust pie
2 lbs. tart apples (7 to 10 depending on the size)
1½ tablespoons lime juice
3 tablespoons flour
¾ cup honey
Dash of salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 tablespoons butter
Canned milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
Prepare the pastry and refrigerate 30 to 40 minutes. Return to room temperature before rolling it out. Roll out and line pie plate with the pastry.
Peel apples; slice. Place in the pie shell. Sprinkle with lime juice, flour, honey, salt, and 1 teaspoon cinnamon. Dot with butter.
Cover with top crust, brushing edges of lower crust with cold water before pressing together. Flute. Cut slits in top of pie to allow steam to escape, or decorate with pastry cutouts.
Mix 1 tablespoon of sugar and 1 tablespoon of cinnamon together. Brush top crust with canned milk. Sprinkle with sugar-cinnamon mixture.
Bake at 375 degrees about 1 hour, until nicely browned. Put a cookie sheet under pie pan while baking in case the pie drips. Aunt B won’t stand for a dirty oven.
Mammi Sarah’s Nut Brown Bread
Note from Poppy: This hearty bread goes well with soup or salad, or you can serve it for breakfast. It doesn’t burn easily, so make sure it’s cooked all the way through.
⅔ cup molasses
2 teaspoons baking soda
2⅔ cups buttermilk
½ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1½ cups chopped walnuts
2 cups raisins (softened in hot water and drained)
2½ cups whole wheat flour
2½ cups white flour
Mix together molasses and baking soda. Mix in all the rest of the ingredients. Divide the dough into three bread loaf pans sprayed with nonstick cooking spray. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 to 45 minutes.
NOT Dinah Eicher’s Coffee Cake
Note from Lily: This is the best coffee cake I’ve ever tasted. And nae, I have not tried Dinah Eicher’s recipe.
Ingredients for the cake
¾ cup butter, softened
2 cups (scant) sugar
3 cups sifted flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1¼ cups whole milk
3 egg whites, beaten until stiff
Ingredients for the topping
¾ cup butter, softened
¾ cup flour
1½ cups brown sugar
2 tablespoons cinnamon
1½ cups chopped pecans
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Beat egg whites and set aside. Cream butter and sugar. Add flour mixture and milk alternately until combined. Don’t overbeat. Fold in beaten egg whites with a rubber spatula. Spread in a well-greased 9”-x-13” baking pan. A cake pan with higher sides is best.
In a separate bowl, combine topping ingredients with a pastry cutter until crumbly. Sprinkle over the top of the batter. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until no longer jiggly. Serve warm.
Honey Custard with Sweet Cherries
Note from Bitsy: This recipe might have singlehandedly made Luke fall in love with Poppy. Do not make this if you do not want the boys hanging around.
Ingredients
6 eggs
½ cup honey
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
1 quart (4 cups) skim milk
Topping
2 cups sweet cherries
4 teaspoons honey for drizzling
Break eggs into large bowl and beat well. Add honey, vanilla, and salt; beat again. Heat milk to just below the boiling point (when fine skin forms on top).
Add milk to egg mixture, stirring to blend well. Pour into small cups or large casserole dish.
Place cups or casserole dish in pan of hot water to a depth of at least 1 inch. Bake at 300 degrees for 1 hour or until a wet knife comes out clean when inserted in custard. Chill in the fridge for at least an hour before serving. Serve topped with fresh cherries and a drizzle of fresh honey.
Affectionately dubbed The Honeybee Sisters in their
Wisconsin Amish community, the three Christner girls
are devoted beekeepers who are coming of age—
and discovering the sweet surprise of love ...
* * *
Shy, skittish Rose Christner is more comfortable tending
to the beehives on the family farm and keeping her aunt’s
unruly cats in line than attending social gatherings with
the rest of the die youngie. A childhood trauma and secret
shame keep her heart under lock and key, and Rose just
can’t accept the sweet
attention she’s receiving from a
handsome neighbor. But the more she shies away from
Josiah Yoder, the more their families sneakily plot to
bring them together. And when a vandal who’s been
plaguing the Honeybee Farm starts targeting Rose,
Josiah’s steadfast protection—and patience—
just may lead her into his waiting arms ...
* * *
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
LIKE A BEE TO HONEY,
Click here to get your copy.
Chapter One
Josiah Yoder’s heart pounded so hard, they could probably hear it in the next county, and it made him kind of disgusted with himself. He’d been to the Honeybee Schwesters’ farm at least a dozen times. The mere thought of possibly, maybe, hopefully seeing Rose Christner shouldn’t make him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.
Just because he had been completely and hopelessly in love with Rose for four long years didn’t mean he couldn’t be perfectly calm when he saw her. He had never managed to be perfectly calm before, but surely he could muster his levelheadedness today. He’d scare Rose away if he drove onto her farm jumpy and agitated like a spooked horse.
His chicken heart only beat faster as his open-air buggy passed the sign on the road that stood at the entrance to the Christners’ property. BEWARE THE HONEYBEES, it said. Every time he saw that sign, his pulse raced out of control—not because he was especially afraid of honeybees, but because Rose had painted that sign herself. With her own two hands. It was almost as if she were standing there at the entrance to their property greeting him with a smile and a wave.
Almost. It was almost like that.
The sign had Rose’s touch all over it. She’d painted red roses and bright yellow daisies, pastel tulips and spiky dandelions. Bees and butterflies frolicked among the flowers—kind of like the ones making a home in his gut at this very minute.
His heart knocked into his ribs like a sledgehammer and smashed all the butterflies in his stomach.
Oy, anyhow. He was hopeless.
No matter how ferhoodled, he was determined not to mess things up with Rose—not when he had already made a connection with her. And by “connection,” he meant that she didn’t cower like a nervous bunny rabbit when he said hello.
With a light tug on the reins, Josiah guided his horse Max onto the small wooden bridge that marked the entrance to the Honeybee Schwesters’ property. He caught his breath and nearly choked. Rose and her sisters Lily and Poppy were but thirty feet away tending to their beehives. Each of them wore one of those beekeeper hats with netting draped over the top plus a long-sleeved jacket and jeans tucked into long stockings. The outfits weren’t strictly Amish, but the sisters couldn’t wear Plain dresses while tending the bees or they’d be stung for sure and certain. Josiah pinned his gaze to the shortest of the three beekeepers. Rose looked pretty no matter what she wore.
All three sisters turned to see who was coming over their bridge and waved to him, even Rose. Surely his heart couldn’t beat any faster.
He raised his arm and waved back but tried not to look too eager. Eagerness tended to make Rose nervous. Once after a fellowship supper, Josiah had watched Benji Kauffman follow Rose around like a lost puppy looking for a scrap of food. Benji was persistent and wouldn’t leave her alone until Rose had planted herself firmly between her sisters for the rest of the day and Poppy had given Benji a very dirty look. Benji had slouched home like he was going to his own funeral.
Josiah’s gut clenched. He couldn’t make any mistakes. He’d been to enough funerals to last a lifetime.
The sisters turned back to their hives. He slumped his shoulders. All he needed to do was deliver his little bag to the house. He had no gute excuse for talking to Rose whatsoever.
He realized he had an iron grip on the reins when Max veered onto the grass and started trampling dandelions. Josiah quickly pulled the horse up and pointed him in the right direction. Rose would be unhappy if the dandelions got trampled.
He guided Max to the end of the lane where the Honeybee Sisters’ house stood to his right and their red barn with the pink door stood to his left. Josiah, with his friends Dan and Luke, had come in the middle of the night a few weeks ago to paint that door. In the dark, they hadn’t been able to get the color quite right.
A ragged-looking black-and-white cat sat on its haunches not three feet from Josiah’s buggy guarding the farm from intruders. The cat scowled at Josiah as if daring him to set foot on their property. Josiah raised his eyebrows. That cat looked mean enough to halt a whole herd of charging bulls. He didn’t know if it would be wiser to ignore him or run away as fast as he could.
Rose probably wouldn’t like it either way.
Rose had barely noticed him. She probably wouldn’t even know.
He climbed from the buggy and stuffed his hand in his pocket to make sure the bag was still there. If he wanted to talk to Rose, he’d have to make his own chances, like Luke Bontrager was always telling him. Luke said Josiah was as slow as a turtle. Would it hurt to pick up the pace?
Even though he was risking a finger or two, Josiah bent over and reached out to smooth his hand along the ragged cat’s head, partly to impress Rose with his love for animals and partly to try to make peace so the cat wouldn’t bite off his arm.
The cat bared his teeth and hissed as if he were trying to set Josiah on fire. Wanting to keep both of the hands he had, Josiah pulled away and glanced in Rose’s direction. He’d have to impress her some other way. She didn’t need to witness his failure with a cat.
When he stood up straight and tried to walk away, the cat threw himself at Josiah and hooked his claws into one of his trousers legs. “Ach!” Josiah said, as the cat’s sharp claws pierced his ankle. The animal was trying to kill him.
The warning at the front of the property hadn’t said anything about cats.
They should probably add that to the sign as soon as possible.
Chapter Two
Gasping in pain, Josiah tried to shake the cat gently from his leg. Rose had a tender heart for all living creatures. She would be unhappy if he kicked out and sent the cat flying.
The cat didn’t budge.
Josiah reached down and tried to wrench it away from his leg without taking several chunks of flesh with him, but the cat’s claws were buried deep, as if he were holding on for dear life. An orange-marmalade ball of fur bounded across the lawn and started climbing Josiah’s other leg. This one was a cute little kitten with sharp, not-so-cute claws that made Josiah flinch when they punctured his leg.
The kitty, making its way up Josiah’s trousers, would surely fall if Josiah made any sudden movements, and the ugly black-and-white cat had decided to park on Josiah’s foot with its claws firmly embedded in Josiah’s shin.
Another cat, milky white and elegant, sauntered across the lawn and planted itself at Josiah’s feet. It rolled onto its back and looked up at Josiah with a mixture of disdain and indignation, as if she had a plan to make Josiah very sorry for intruding.
Either the cats were trying to keep him from escaping or they were overjoyed to see him. He couldn’t imagine they were overjoyed. He barely knew any of them.
The Honeybee Schwesters were a good twenty yards off so he couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but at least they had noticed he was in trouble. Poppy nudged Rose and gestured toward him with her smoker. Rose hesitated, then stepped away from the hives and removed her long canvas gloves and beekeeper’s hat to reveal her golden hair tied up with a light pink scarf and her cheeks tinted an appealing shade of red.
His heart did a flip, three somersaults, four push-ups, several cartwheels, and a double back handspring.
Rose Christner was coming to his rescue.
His mouth went dry as he thought of about a million things he wanted to say to her, and—oh, sis yuscht—he had suddenly lost the power of speech.
She glanced at
him and gave him a tentative half smile before turning her attention to the cats. “Billy Idol, Leonard Nimoy, you naughty, naughty kitties.” She knelt on the ground and carefully detached the orange kitten’s claws from Josiah’s trousers. He’d made it all the way up to Josiah’s knee.
“He’s a gute climber,” Josiah said, trying to sound cheerful and meek, but not too eager, all at the same time. Mostly, he sounded gravelly, like he’d swallowed a cup of rocks for breakfast.
Rose nuzzled the kitten’s soft head against her cheek. “I hope she didn’t hurt you. Leonard Nimoy is just learning her manners, and Billy Idol is a bad influence.”
“No harm done,” he said, wishing she’d turn her gaze to him and give him a glimpse of those eyes that were as blue as ice on Lake Michigan. “Is the kitten a female?”
She finally looked at him. He tried to act like nothing important had just happened, even though his head spun like a washing machine in a tornado.
“Jah,” she said, looking away as soon as their eyes met. “Aunt Bitsy named her Leonard Nimoy after a movie star, but she’s a girl.” Rose set Leonard Nimoy on the grass and shook her finger when the kitten tried to scale Josiah’s leg again. “Nae, Leonard Nimoy. Leave Josiah be.”
Josiah liked the way she talked to the cats, as if they were adorable and she loved them with all her heart, but there was nothing adorable about the black-and-white cat still clinging to his trousers. Rose smoothed her hand over the cat’s blotchy fur. “Billy Idol, there’s no need to attack people. You’re being a very bad example to Leonard Nimoy.”