Sweet as Honey Page 8

  She couldn’t understand why a boy who found her so repulsive always seemed so happy to see her. Maybe he was a naturally cheerful person. Maybe he secretly made fun of her in his head. Whatever the reason, she certainly wished he’d quit staring.

  The three sisters played croquet by themselves, while most of die youngie played volleyball or sat and listened to music on Benji Schmucker’s portable CD player. Benji hadn’t been baptized yet, and he took his music everywhere. Lily thought the blaring noise messed up a perfectly good gathering, but many of the younger teenagers enjoyed it.

  Poppy hit her ball right at the wicket, only to have it stall in a divot in the grass. She groaned. “Your turn, Lily.”

  Lily had never been good at croquet, but it was the one game Rose seemed to like, so they played. Of course, if Rose had known they were only playing for her benefit, she never would have agreed to it. She hated to impose on anybody and went out of her way to make sure no one ever knew what she truly wanted. She would have much rather accommodated everyone else.

  For Rose’s sake, Lily and Poppy both pretended they liked croquet, but Lily did a lot more pretending than Poppy did. Lily had always been clumsy and uncoordinated and would much rather have curled up with a good book than run around the yard chasing balls.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lily saw Mahlon and Moses Zook each pick up a mallet. “Can we play?” Moses said.

  Lily glanced at Rose. Rose had talked to Mahlon at the last gathering. She was probably as comfortable around him as any boy, probably because he was young like a little brother. Rose gave Mahlon a weak smile and nodded.

  The boys put their balls down and took their turns. Since Lily, Rose, and Poppy were in the middle of a game, the boys took a few extra turns to catch up. Just as Lily thought she might die of boredom, Moses hit an impressive ball through the wicket, and it came to rest touching Lily’s. His eyes darted between Lily and some thick bushes to the side of the deacon’s house.

  “Sorry, Lily,” he said before planting his foot on his ball, hitting it with the mallet, and sending Lily’s ball into the bushes. He grinned sheepishly. “No hard feelings, I hope.”

  “Not at all,” Lily said, grinding her teeth together and forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the game.” Part of the stupidest game on Earth. She dragged her feet to the bushes with half a mind to get lost in the foliage and escape out the other side. Getting on her hands and knees, she tried to find her ball. She couldn’t see it anywhere.

  She stood and squeezed herself through a gap in the bushes just wide enough to accommodate her and found herself in a small open space surrounded by tall bushes. And Dan Kanagy.

  Well, she wasn’t really surrounded by Dan Kanagy. It only felt that way because he stood well over six feet tall and had broad shoulders, and she felt small when she thought of all the things he’d said about her. He smiled and held up her croquet ball as if it were a prize. “I found your ball.”

  Why did her ball have the misfortune of rolling under this particular forest of bushes? And why was Dan Kanagy lurking here? Her face must have been glowing bright red. He’d probably take one look at her and call her “Beethead” or some other equally cruel name.

  She reached out and practically snatched her ball from his fingers. “Denki,” she said, turning around to squeeze out of this horrible place.

  “Wait, Lily,” he said. “Please wait.”

  It wasn’t really the words he said but how he said them that made her hesitate. His smug smile had disappeared, and his voice sounded like a mixture of gravel and dejection, as if he were really sorry for something. As if he knew he deserved her disdain and felt bad about it.

  With more reluctance than she’d ever done anything besides play croquet, she stopped, pulled her arm back from between the bushes, and took a tiny step toward him. She folded her arms around her waist and squared her shoulders. Poppy wasn’t here to protect her. Paul wasn’t here to scowl. She’d have to be strong on her own. “What do you want?”

  Her look seemed to pain him, as if she’d stuck him with a pin. “Ach du lieva,” he said. “It must be really bad.”

  “What must be really bad?”

  He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his golden hair. “Lily, I don’t know what I’ve done, but I want to apologize. You look like you want to kill me.”

  She frowned. “I would never wish to kill you or anybody. That’s a horrible thought.”

  He held up one hand. “I know. You’re right. We were getting along so nicely. You showed me your beehives. I stepped on your dandelions. But now you’re upset. Can you please tell me what I’ve done so I can make amends?”

  Lily felt as if the foliage closed in around her. Dan Kanagy didn’t deserve an explanation. Dan Kanagy didn’t really want an explanation. “I’ve got to get back to the game.” It spoke volumes that she’d rather play croquet than spend another minute with him.

  She might as well have stuck him with a hundred pins. “Is this about Paul? I didn’t mean to make him mad yesterday. I just really wanted to give you those books. I’ll take them back if that will make it better.”

  The thought of his nasty insults made her ill, but if she’d learned one thing about Dan Kanagy, she knew he was as persistent as a bloodhound. He’d probably camp out all night amongst the bushes until she took pity on him.

  Lily sighed in surrender. “Paul told me what you said.”

  Something came to life behind his eyes, something almost like hope. She couldn’t begin to figure this boy out. “What I said when? What did I say?”

  She couldn’t look at him. It would be humiliating to see the truth of what he said in his eyes. “You said I’m as ugly as a dog and that I should go live with the pigs.”

  Silence felt like an avalanche between them. When Dan spoke, his voice sounded stiff and hard, as if someone had sucked all the emotion out of his lungs. “When did Paul hear me say this?”

  She looked up. He’d wrapped his hand around his opposite arm and gripped it tightly. The muscles of his jaw flexed, and though his face was blank, she could tell he was angry, so angry he seemed like a taut wire about to snap.

  Lily lowered her eyes again. “In eighth grade.”

  “You’ve been mad since eighth grade?”

  “He told me yesterday.”

  “Paul has an amazing memory,” Dan said, with a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

  Something shifted on his face and his anger seemed to melt away, leaving an emotion profoundly sad and deeply hopeful at the same time. He reached out as if to touch her, but must have thought better of it. His hand fell to his side. “Lily, I don’t know if Paul thought he heard something he didn’t or if his memory is playing tricks on him, but I would never in a million years say that about anybody, especially you.”

  “Are you . . . are you sure?”

  “Never in a million years,” he whispered. Now he did touch her, gently cupping his hands around her shoulders. For some inexplicable reason she didn’t pull away. “Those words must have hurt you something wonderful.”

  He looked so concerned that if she’d tried to say one word, she would have started crying in relief and humiliation. Even if Paul had told her only yesterday, it had happened— or not happened—eight years ago. Dan must have thought she was incredibly childish.

  “Lily, you have always been . . . I have always thought of you as . . .” He sounded thick and deep and sincere. He cleared his throat. “Lily, I think you are prettier than a hundred sunsets.”

  She thought of his favorite nicknames for her. “You do not.”

  “I would never lie about that.”

  The way he looked at her made her heart do a little skip. Her heart shouldn’t be doing little skips. Paul would admonish her for her vanity. Still, it felt nice to hear someone, even Dan Kanagy, give her a compliment.

  She banished all vain thoughts from her head and drew her brows together. “So you really didn’t say that about me?”

  “Lil
y, I was a stupid boy in eighth grade, but I wasn’t mean.”

  Jah, he had been mean, but maybe she wouldn’t scold him for that today. It was enough to know that he hadn’t said she looked like a dog. How could Paul have gotten it so wrong? One look in Dan’s eyes told her he wasn’t lying. That assurance made her feel a thousand times better.

  “I’m sorry I got mad at you for something you didn’t say. And I should have forgiven you, even if I thought you had said it.”

  He shook his head. “Those kinds of things are hard to forgive. I feel bad you thought they were true.” He seemed to realize that he still had hold of her shoulders. He dropped his hands and took a step back, coming up against the bushes behind him. “Will you do me a favor? If Paul has any other memories of eighth grade, will you let me know? I should at least get a chance to apologize before you decide to hate me.”

  Lily bowed her head in embarrassment. “A good Christian would have forgiven you first thing.”

  He grinned. “Maybe. But if I had said those things, I would have deserved one of Poppy’s best shoves. Or a good sock in the mouth yet.”

  A giggle of relief tripped from her lips. “Poppy thought so too. I told her she wasn’t allowed to hurt you.”

  He swiped a hand across his forehead as if he’d escaped with his life. “Phew. I’m glad you’re around to protect me.”

  He smiled with his whole face, as if there wasn’t enough room in his mouth to contain all his happiness. The way he looked at her made her want to blush, as a pleasantly warm sensation trickled down her arms to the tips of her fingers.

  Dan Kanagy could be rude and insensitive, but she didn’t hate him. She’d come pretty far in three minutes.

  She held up her ball. “I should get back to the game.”

  “It looks to me like you’re losing pretty soundly.”

  Lily’s lips twitched involuntarily. “I always do.”

  Dan peeked between the bushes. “They seem to be doing fine without you. You could forfeit. We could sit here in our little hideout and talk about books. I finished Where the Red Fern Grows.”

  “I wish I could,” Lily said, smiling to soften her refusal. “But Rose is so nervous at gatherings. I should be with her yet.”

  He didn’t seem the least bit offended—a little disappointed maybe—but he grinned as wide as ever so she couldn’t be sure. “Of course. You should be with your sister.” Before she squeezed back through the bushes, he said, “Could I drive you home?” She stopped as if she’d frozen in place. He tilted his head to look her in the eye. “We could talk about books.”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  And she really didn’t. Aunt B usually drove her and her sisters to gatherings, and Paul usually drove them home.

  “Paul isn’t here,” he coaxed.

  Did he know how to read minds? “We were going to catch a ride with Hannah Yutzy.”

  “Why ride home with her, when you can go with me? My buggy is really comfortable, and we can decide if Billy should have cut down that big old tree just so his dogs could catch a raccoon.”

  It took her half a second to realize he was talking about the book. Her lips twitched teasingly. “Of course he should have. There was no other way.”

  “I would have climbed up and scared the critter down. No sense killing a perfectly good tree.”

  She smiled. “I see we have a lot to talk about.”

  “Then you’ll ride home with me?”

  “My sisters and I won’t all fit in that courting buggy of yours.”

  “I brought the other buggy. It wouldn’t be right to take you without your sisters.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  His smile was as blinding as the sunshine. “Okay? You’ll let me drive you home?”

  “Jah. Okay.”

  He looked like a little boy who’d gotten seven puppies for Christmas.

  She laughed. Who knew it was that easy to make a boy happy?

  Dan cupped his fingers around her elbow to help steady her as she went back through the gap in the bushes. “Will you be sure Poppy knows I’m not as terrible as she thinks I am? I’d rather she not break my leg in an attempt to protect you.”

  “Okay,” she said, as his touch set off some sort of explosion in her head.

  And why did her heart do that wild dance inside her chest? A fifteen-minute buggy ride was nothing to get excited about, and she had only agreed to it because Paul wasn’t there to take her. Paul usually drove her and her sisters home, even though he’d made it clear what an imposition it was. But for all his complaining, he never would have let Lily actually find another ride. He wanted other boys to understand that Lily was taken.

  Dan didn’t seem to care that Lily was taken. Probably because he really wanted to talk about that book.

  So, it seemed, did she.

  Chapter Nine

  Poppy insisted on sitting in front next to Dan. Either she didn’t believe that Dan had reformed or she wanted to glare at him the entire buggy ride home.

  Lily told herself she didn’t mind, but a tiny seed of disappointment festered in the pit of her stomach. She should have been the one up front to make talking about books that much easier. If she sat up front, Dan might flash one of those cute smiles that made her toes curl.

  Disappointment was silly. He would likely call her some mean nickname or tease her about her glasses. Paul would be annoyed enough when he found out Dan had driven her home.

  If he found out. Why would he ever need to find out?

  She should be ashamed of herself that she’d started keeping a list of things she hoped Paul would never know. It didn’t seem right to be sneaky with the boy most likely to be her future husband.

  Dan didn’t seem to mind that Poppy studied him like a chicken might study a tick. If his smile had seemed a little forced when Poppy sat in the front seat, he acted cheerful enough and had even offered her the Spongey-Man blanket in case she got chilly.

  Dan had a good hand with the reins but didn’t seem compelled to push the horse all that fast. They pulled away from the gathering at a leisurely pace. The sun had set below the horizon, but it was still light enough to see the road ahead of them. “There’s another blanket on the floor if you get cold back there,” he said.

  “Denki.” Rose tucked the blanket around their legs. “It’s a tiny bit chilly yet.”

  Smiling, Dan quickly glanced back at Rose and Lily. “Everyone loved your cake, Rose. I saw Mahlon and Sol Petersheim playing rock-paper-scissors over the last piece, and Junior Zook asked the deacon’s wife if he could lick the plate.”

  Rose smiled that tentative, shy smile she always used around people she didn’t know very well. “You’re teasing. Junior wouldn’t dream of getting crumbs on his shirt.”

  Dan shook his head. “Not teasing. That cake tasted wonderful-gute.”

  “It’s Lily’s recipe. She thought of putting almond extract in the frosting.”

  “You said it’s a honey cake. I’m assuming there’s honey in it,” Dan said.

  Rose smiled, for real this time. “Jah. We use honey in most of our recipes.”

  “What other desserts do you make with honey?” For being a boy, he seemed unusually eager to talk about recipes. Paul wouldn’t have gone near the topic.

  “Well,” Rose said, nibbling on her fingernail, “we make honey buns and Dutch Babies and honey cookies filled with jam. Poppy’s honey-peach cake is the best thing you’ve ever tasted in July when the peaches are fresh from the tree.”

  Lily did her best not to gawk at Rose. She’d said more in the first few minutes of their buggy ride than she ever said in a whole trip with Paul. Had this been Dan’s doing?

  Of course. His seemingly genuine interest in honey recipes was coaxing Rose out of her shell a bit.

  Lily could have kissed him.

  Well, not really kissed him, because she never, ever wanted to kiss incorrigible Dan Kanagy. Ever. But his kindness certainly made up for a lot of past sins.


  To Lily’s delight, Rose didn’t fall into a timid silence like she often did when she thought she might be doing too much talking. “When the hives really started producing, Aunt Bitsy realized we could make a whole business out of it. We sell beeswax and royal jelly, even a queen once in a while. And of course Poppy’s bread and Lily’s cookies sell well at auction.”

  Poppy turned her head and gave Lily a significant look. She had noticed it too. Rose was talking to a boy.

  Could have kissed him.

  “I think it’s fascinating that bees can make so many different things: honey, beeswax, propolis. Did you know honey is good for burns?”

  “Jah,” Rose said at the same time Poppy spoke. “Of course.”

  “Some hives get stacked so high with supers, they’re hard to manage,” Dan said. “I noticed you stack two or three shallow supers on top of a couple of brood boxes. Much easier to work with. And you’re smart to have planted trees and flowers that bees love. I understand why Bitsy is protective of her dandelions.”

  Lily found herself gawking again. In a few sentences, Dan had spouted off more beekeeping facts than Paul had ever learned. Paul didn’t even know what a super was. He’d never been interested in their beekeeping operation.

  Lily cleared her throat. Why did Paul need to know anything about beekeeping? He was her boyfriend, not her assistant.

  “How do you know so much about the hives?” Rose asked, sounding more than mildly impressed.

  Poppy folded her arms and smirked in an obvious attempt not to look amazed. “Were you secretly a beekeeper’s apprentice in Pennsylvania?”

  Dan turned his face toward Lily and grinned sheepishly. “I’ve been doing some late-night reading.”

  Rose’s eyebrows inched together. “About bees?”

  Dan chuckled. “I wanted to get to know . . . you sisters better. I thought if I read some bee books, we could have a more intelligent conversation about them.”

  Poppy inclined her head in Lily’s direction. “Lily is the smart one. You can always have an intelligent conversation with her.”