The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

simple chores, but she tended to make more of a mess when she tried to clean.
    “No harm done.” Mordecai set the second glass upright. He scooped Hazel from her bench and set her on her feet. “Go on, little one. Bring your mudder a towel.”
    The little girl, eyes wide, her face stained with tears, sniffled and scurried to the kitchen.
    Abigail opened her mouth to thank him.
    “You were getting pie.”
    Stephen pointed his long finger in the direction of the kitchen. His tone held an unmistakable note of authority Abigail hadn’t heard before. Timothy had never ordered her to do anything. He’d been more likely to bring her around to his way of thinking with a kiss on her neck or a hug from behind. She could never refuse him under those circumstances. “Why don’t you go sit in the yard? I’ll bring it out.”
    “That is a good idea.” He paused at the screen door and looked back, smiling. “It’s been a long time. We have some catching up to do.”
    He slipped through the door, letting it shut with hardly a sound.
    Abigail took the washrag from a still-tearful Hazel and wiped at the water on the bench and floor. Mordecai picked up a piece of bread he’d spent more time shredding than eating during most of the meal. Abigail, her skin hot with embarrassment, forced her gaze back to the mess her daughter had made.
    “It’ll dry. No harm done.” Mordecai picked up the stack of plates so she could dry under it. His eyes were blue green and brilliant against his tanned skin. “The girls will clean up.”
    Timothy’s eyes had been the color of freshly turned earth and always held a questioning note, as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d chosen him. Abigail gave herself a mental shake. She had to stop comparing. “I hate to make extra work for anyone, that’s all.”
    “You brought a lot of helping hands with you. We’re all happy you’re here. All of us are.”
    Something about the way he said the words eased the knot of apprehension between her shoulders. He smiled. He had a kind smile. She found herself smiling back.
    John cleared his throat. “Weren’t you getting pie and tea for Stephen?”
    “Tea, right. Tea.”
    She fled to the kitchen. There she encountered accusing stares from her four daughters, squeezed into the narrow kitchen with Eve’s three. Ignoring them the best she could, Abigail cut a thick wedge of pie and refilled Stephen’s glass. She inhaled and let out a breath. It had been only two years since Timothy’s death. She knew how to acquiesce to a man’s will. She’d done it for years, but somehow she felt out of practice. She’d best relearn the skill, no matter what the girls thought.
    “He doesn’t have kinner.” Deborah looked as if she’d bitten her tongue.
    “What?” Abigail had heard the statement, but she needed time to find a response. Stephen had never married, true, but that could be her fault. He’d asked her to marry him once before and she’d chosen their father instead. He’d moved away not long after Abigail married. Then he returned to Tennessee for a wedding a year after Timothy’s death. The same quiet man of faith he’d always been. A man who’d never fallen out of love with her. She had been sure of that when she left home or she would never have come. Could she learn to love him the way she hadn’t loved him the first time? She cared for him. Wasn’t that enough?
    It had to be. She had to have this new start in this new place. A place far from the pond where Timothy had asked her to marry him and far from the house where their children had been conceived and born. Far from the cemetery where he’d been laid to rest twenty-four months, one week, and six days ago.
    “What does he know about what a little girl should do or shouldn’t do?”
    “You best hush.” Abigail picked up the saucer, avoiding her oldest daughter’s dark look. “He was right. Hazel needs to learn.”
    “Will he tell the rest of us what to do too?”
    “Do the