Free The Beekeeper's Son (The Amish of Bee County Book 1) by Kelly Irvin

Mordecai plucked a long serrated knife from a shelf and dipped it in the pan of water still boiling on the stove. “The supers are above the section where the queen bee lives. That way we can take out the frames without upsetting her.”
    He proceeded to scrape the white wax into a plastic container. “We’ll use this beeswax to make candles and lip balm.”
    He pointed at the openings now visible on the frame. “See, there’s the honey.”
    “How do you get it out?” Rebekah raised her hand as if at school, then giggled. “Do you have to cook it or something?”
    “We put the frames in an extractor and spin them.” He grinned as if this thought gave him great joy. “Do you and your schweschders want to help? It’s old hat to all these women. They’ve seen it hundreds of times.”
    “I do, I do.” Hazel crawled out from under the table where she’d been sitting with her own pan of green beans, attempting to snap them the way Abigail had shown her. “I want honey.”
    Mordecai laughed, a big, booming sound. “Well, that’s one thing we’ve got plenty of.”
    Deborah, Leila, Rebekah, and Hazel crowded around the table while the others, true to Mordecai’s prediction, went back to chatting, finishing up the tomatoes, and starting on the pickles. Abigail longed to watch, but somehow it seemed as if she shouldn’t. Why, she couldn’t be sure. It was simply honey, after all. Tomatoes. Think tomatoes . She couldn’t help it. She sneaked a glance now and again.
    Mordecai removed all the wax from the frames and then set them in a huge pot he called an extractor. It had a handle that allowed him to spin the frames, flinging the honey against the sides of the pan so it pooled in the bottom.
    As he worked, he talked to the girls in a tone that reminded Abigail of a schoolteacher. Had his life been different, had he not been born a Plain man, maybe he would’ve been a teacher. Instead, Susan had that job in the King family.
    “Did you know bees have a stomach especially for honey?” He picked up Hazel from the floor and stood her on the chair so she could see. “That’s where they put the nectar when they collect it from the flowers. On one trip, they suck up so much nectar their stomachs weigh as much as they do.”
    He stuck his hands out as if to mimic a huge belly and thegirls laughed. His gaze whipped toward Abigail. She whirled toward the counter. Lids made popping sounds. Pop. Pop. Good. Good, the first batch of tomatoes was setting up fine.
    Mordecai’s soft chuckle told her he’d caught her watching him. “You know, worker bees only live about thirty-five days in the summer. That’s because they work themselves to death going back and forth to get the nectar and then flap their wings to help the extra water evaporate from the nectar once it’s in the hive. My point is, I don’t want to hear any of you complaining about having to work too hard. I’ve never seen a Plain child worked to death yet.”
    Laughter followed this statement. Abigail couldn’t help herself and peeked again. Mordecai grinned. Her face flaming, she turned back to her rows of jars.
    “How does the nectar get out of the bee’s belly?”
    Deborah, ever the scholar with the most discerning mind, posed the question. Abigail waited, wanting an answer to that strange question herself.
    “The hive bees suck it out with their tongues, mouth to mouth.”
    “Ewww! Yuck. Gross!”
    The chorus from her girls filled the kitchen, followed by laughter from Eve and the other women. Abigail found herself smiling for the first time in days. Mordecai’s tone said he relished the telling of this little fact. Probably had repeated it many times. It was so like a man. Still smiling, Abigail picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the spicy vinegar concoction that would cover the cucumbers, onions, and red peppers that would become bread-and-butter pickles. At least they were learning something new. Even Deborah, who’d been morose at best