The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance) (6 page)

Waters grimaced. “Never mind. That’s exactly what the bank manager asked when I applied for the loan. My brother and I plan to run a fishing and hunting lodge eventually. One of those places that offer one-on-one guides along with gourmet meals. My sister-in-law’s a great cook and my brother knows all the best fishing holes.”

“Sounds great,” Will said, trying for a note of encouragement. Personally, he thought rich people might want to fish and hunt for more exotic game in more exclusive surroundings. Still, he’d already put one foot in his mouth. There wasn’t room for the other.

“Yeah, I hope it will be. We have the vision anyway,” Waters said, chuckling. “All we need to do is finish the work.” He handed Will the keys. “I’ll show you where things are. You’ll have your pick of sites, but I recommend the one closest to the wash house.”

Will followed him outside and looked at the log cabin beneath a giant sycamore tree about two hundred yards from the stream. Exactly the place he’d have chosen himself.

A
NNIE HAD
a bad feeling as soon as she saw Danny climb out of his father’s pickup truck. He didn’t make
eye contact with her until he was almost two feet away and even then his gaze was directed at some point beyond her right shoulder.

“You look like something’s troubling you,” she said. “Have you come to tell me you can’t work for me today, either?”

“No…uh…I mean, I can work for you today and probably tomorrow but the thing is…”

“What?” she asked, more sharply than she’d intended.

“Annie, I’m real sorry but I just found out that I’m failing English and I have to have the course to get into the college I want to go to in Charlotte. My teacher said I can go to summer school and that starts next week. Mom and Dad are real pissed—sorry—ticked off at me and say I have to have no life but school until it’s over.”

“And when will that be?”

“It’s only for six weeks. End of July.”

“But I really need you now, Danny. By the end of July my father will be back on his feet to help.”

He blushed. “I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry. Maybe you can find someone else from school.”

“Well, since you’re here we might as well head out to the buckwheat field and check the hives there,” she muttered. “Why don’t you follow me in your dad’s truck? We can load both trucks at once and save some time. I’ve got a lot of spring honey coming in over the next few days.”

“Like I said, I’m real sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Not your fault. At least, except for failing English. How did that happen?”

“I dunno. I don’t like writing essays and stuff about poems and that. Kinda boring. And my teacher and I didn’t get along.”

She’d heard echoes of that last sentence countless times over the past few years from students. But she wasn’t a teacher anymore, and he was simply her student in the beeyard.

“Well, good luck with summer school. C’mon into the honey barn and try on my dad’s bee suit.”

Danny’s eyes flashed. “Are we, like, gonna be in those white space suit thingies?”

At least he was excited about it. “You bet. Complete with hats and netting.”

While he was getting suited up, Annie’s mind raced, trying to think of someone—anyone—who might be available for even a week. It wasn’t until Danny had left, almost three hours later, that Annie came up with a name.

She shied away from the idea at first but by the time she turned out her bedside lamp, she knew Will was a good possibility. She just wasn’t certain how good it would be for her, to have the attractive ex-firefighter in such close proximity.

S
HE COULD HAVE WAITED
another day, Annie was thinking as she turned onto the gravel road leading to Rest Haven Campground. Danny had promised to keep working until she found someone else. But what if Will decided to leave the valley before she had a chance to offer him the temporary job?

The irony of the situation hadn’t escaped her. When he was sitting in her kitchen just the day before yesterday, asking her about available work, she’d been afraid he’d been hinting for a job at the apiary. If she was worried about his take on her invitation to coffee yesterday, what was he going to think when she showed up offering him work after all?

Annie blew air out her pursed lips. Too bad what he thought. She was desperate for help and he was an available, able-bodied man. That’s all that really mattered. As her truck curved past the office, Annie spotted Will’s van parked at the edge of the stream beyond the dirt road linking the campsites.

She pulled up behind his van and waved her fingers at him, where he stood by a picnic table. He walked to
ward her, holding a spatula in his hand. Annie opened the door and jumped down to the grass.

“This is a surprise,” he said. “I was just cooking some breakfast. Have you eaten yet?”

“Cereal.”

He gestured with the spatula to a small propane stove on the picnic table. “Feel up to bacon and eggs?”

She hesitated, reluctant to make her visit seem like a social one. On the other hand, the food smelled delicious. “Sure.”

“Great. Coffee’s in the thermos jug on the table.”

“You’ve camped before, I see,” she commented, studying his preparations at the table. “Looks pretty organized.”

“Camping was a good cheap holiday years ago, when I first joined the department. After I got married, I gave it up.” He paused to flip the eggs sizzling in a cast-iron pan.

Married? Did he just say married?

He turned the eggs onto a plate, added two pieces of bacon and passed it to her. “There’s another fork, in that plastic container next to the coffee.”

She waited for him to clarify the married remark but he seemed in no hurry. After he cracked open another two eggs and dropped them into the pan, he glanced her way and said, “Go ahead. They’re no good cold.”

Annie popped the lid on the plastic container and withdrew a fork from the assortment of cutlery, knives, can opener and bottle opener. She halfheartedly broke
into the eggs which, in spite of her lack of appetite, were delicious. Crisp on the edges, runny inside and lightly salted and peppered. She was mopping up the eggy residue with pieces of bacon by the time he sat opposite her with his own plate.

He looked at her empty one and arched an eyebrow. “More?”

“No thanks, but they were yummy.”

“It’s the air,” he said between bites. “Anything eaten outside at a picnic table tastes better.”

She watched him eat silently and quickly, as if he knew she’d come for some purpose other than an impromptu breakfast. When he finished, he pushed his plate aside, reached for his coffee and took a long swallow. Then he set the mug down, placed his elbows on the table and asked, “What can I do for you?”

Annie felt herself color. “Am I that obvious?”

“Well, Rest Haven isn’t exactly on the road to Ambrosia Apiaries.”

“Something’s come up,” she began.

“Nothing about your father, I hope.”

“No, no. But remember how I told you that Danny McLean was going to work for me for the next few weeks?”

“The high school kid?”

“Yes. It turns out he has to go to summer school and his parents won’t let him work. At least, until summer school’s finished.”

“When’s that?”

“End of July.”

“So basically for the next six weeks you’re on your own?”

“Yes, until Dad gets back from Charlotte.”

“Though he may not be able to get right back into things for a while.”

Annie nodded. She hoped the expression on her face wasn’t as bleak as she was feeling.

“And you were wondering if I’d be interested in helping out?”

“Just for a day or two,” she quickly said, not wanting to make the favor seem to be an imposition. To her relief, she saw no sign of reluctance in his eyes.

“Sure,” he said. “I’d be glad to. When do I start?”

“Now?”

“Fine by me. Do I have time to wash up the dishes?”

“I’ll do that. You made breakfast.”

“How about if you head back to the farm now and I’ll join you there in about half an hour? Give me time to shave, too.”

“Great.” Annie stood. “And thanks so much, Will. I really appreciate it.”

As she walked back to the pickup, Annie noticed a fishing rod leaning against the side of his van. She felt a twinge of guilt, that she might be spoiling his plans for the day.

But on the way back to the apiary, Annie kept seeing the look on Will’s face when she’d asked for help. As if she’d given him an unexpected gift.

K
IDS TEND TO
romanticize things. A twelve-year-old boy would certainly love to wear a bee suit. But Will gave the white canvas cloth jumpsuit Annie handed him a skeptical once-over. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

“Dad’s a bit shorter and not as bulky as you are, but we can fill in the gaps with socks and gloves.”

“Yeah? Will that work?”

Her smile was somewhat indulgent. After stepping into it, he pulled his arms through and, sucking in his stomach, tugged up the zipper. About four inches of jeans hung below the cuffs of the bee suit and at least three inches of shirtsleeve below the wrist band. Will tried not to imagine how he looked. Annie was averting her eyes.

“Here,” she said, handing him a large pair of long, woolly socks. “Pull them up over your jeans and the cuffs of the suit. Dad’s boots will probably fit. He has big feet.”

“Will I be able to run in these?” he asked, once he’d squeezed his feet into the tall rubber boots.

“Run?” Annie stopped to look at him, her own bee suit halfway up her legs.

“In case the bees attack.”

To her credit, she continued pulling up her suit before replying, “Running won’t do you much good, Will. The idea is to prevent anything from happening that would make you want to run.”

Sweat trickled down his armpits. “Such as?”

“You’re going to stay behind me and do everything I tell you, for one thing. The bees aren’t dangerous, but they will be angry when we start disturbing their hives. That’s why I have the smoker. Some of them will buzz around you, but as long as there are no gaps in your suit, you’ll be fine.”

She zipped up her own and shoved her feet into her boots. Then she handed him a pair of gloves before grabbing hers. “You won’t need to put these on until we’re at the beeyard. Don’t forget your hat,” she said as he turned to leave without it.

Will glanced at the pith helmet-style hat with its curtain of fine mesh. Somehow the outfit didn’t look as glamorous as he remembered. He eyed the metal smoker with its accordion-like bellows. It looked pretty damn small. “Does that produce enough smoke?”

“Yep. Besides, it’s a sunny day. Most of the worker bees will be out of the hives searching for nectar. The smoke will make any still inside think their hive is on fire. They’ll fill up with honey and fly down to the lower supers. When I give the word, you place this bee excluder on top of the second super from the bottom.” She held up a flat metal grid with a cross-hatched pattern that resembled something that might fit on a barbecue.

Will couldn’t resist a skeptical look.

She smiled. “It’ll stop them from coming back up into the top part of the hive to get at the honey.”

“What about the queen? What’s she doing while all this is going on?”

“The queen and her brood are in the bottom two supers.”

He wondered how many bees would decide to stay behind to guard the honey instead of joining the queen. When he glanced at Annie, she was grinning. “Do I look that funny?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. You look like a real beekeeper. Well,” she added, “a real nervous beekeeper.”

Exactly, Will was thinking, as they got in the truck and drove out to the colony at the back of the property. Although it was a mere fifteen-minute walk, they’d need the truck to bring back the supers full of honey.

“I’ve never seen or tasted buckwheat honey, but I read somewhere that it’s very dark,” he said as they drove by the buckwheat field.

“Dark and bitter. It’s an acquired taste. Most of our customers prefer the pale clover honey, but surprisingly there’s still a good market for the buckwheat.”

“So the honey we’re collecting today, is that from the buckwheat or what?”

When she didn’t answer right away, he turned her way. She looked amused.

“No. This is the spring honey,” she said.

“Yeah…I get that part.”

“The buckwheat doesn’t bloom until summer. This honey’s from spring clover or fruit blossoms.”

“Oh.” His eyes flicked back to the tall green plants for a second. “Right. Should have thought of that. Must be the city boy in me.”

“Newark can’t be all asphalt and concrete.”

“The section of the city where I grew up only had a few green areas. I remember some people turned an empty lot into one of those community gardening projects. I spent a lot of time in it. It was a place I could relax in, feel at peace. It got me through a lot of bad times.”

Her face sobered and Will instantly regretted the comment, realizing that it opened the door to a conversation he didn’t feel like getting into right then. She looked like she was about to ask him something but they’d reached the end of the trail. The truck lurched to a stop.

Annie looked over at Will. “Just follow my lead and do what I say. Everything will be fine.”

As a firefighter, he’d been the one to give orders. How life had changed!

“You okay?”

Will blinked. “Yes, just drifted off for a second there.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “So long as you don’t drift off while I’m waiting for you to lower the excluder.”

“Right.”

Will helped her remove the equipment from the back of the pickup and they carried it the few yards to
the hives, stopping a few feet away to put on their hats and gloves. Will had a sudden flashback to his fire training days, when he was still trying to figure out the various snaps and flaps on his bunker gear.

“All set?”

He couldn’t see her face clearly through the mesh, but her voice was edged with doubt. “Just waiting for you,” he said, louder than necessary but with as much confidence as he could muster.

She took the smoker and headed for the first hive, removing its top cover. Will watched as she squeezed the bellows and gently puffed smoke across the exposed super. A cluster of bees flew up at her and instantly Will stepped back. Annie continued working the smoker, apparently oblivious to the bees swarming around her head.

A pulse drummed at Will’s temples. He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath.

“Will?” Annie raised her head from the smoker. “Can you lift this super when I give the word?”

Bees, he told himself. Tiny honey bees and smoke from a handful of wood chips. That’s all this is. He walked slowly toward her. In spite of the smoke, there appeared to be an awful lot of bees still circling.

Annie squeezed the bellows a couple more times. “Okay.”

Will set his gloved hands into the slots on either side of the super and pulled. It was heavier than he’d expected and he made a kind of dipping motion, raising and lowering it before managing to heave it completely
off the hive. A cloud of bees flew up into his face, brushing against the mesh of his hat.

A surge of adrenaline sent blood rushing to his head and for a moment, he was afraid he was going to pass out.

Annie puffed more smoke onto the super and said, “Take that as far as you can carry it. The bees will leave you alone after a few seconds.”

He didn’t quite make it to the truck, but was forced to lower the super onto the ground midway. When he stood, he waited until the vertigo left him. He suspected his face was bright red beneath the dark mesh and was glad Annie couldn’t see. When the sense of panic eased, Will went back to the hive.

Annie was waiting for him, seemingly oblivious to what was happening. Except that just before she stopped smoking the second super, she asked, “Feel up to finishing this now, or do you want to take a break?”

“Let’s keep on,” he said, stooping to lift the other super.

“Okay.”

They worked silently for another hour, removing supers, setting the bee excluders down and replacing the supers back on the hives.

“It takes a few days to get all the bees settled at the bottom of the hive,” Annie said. “Then we’ll come back for the honey. Dad and I have already set bee excluders in those over there.” She pointed to a cluster of hives with stones on their covers. “We marked them so
we’d know which hives to take honey from on the next round. We’ll do them just before we leave.”

Will was prepared for the next hive. He took a deep breath as he raised the cover and clenched his teeth when the first cloud of bees flew up in his face. By the third hive, his heart rate scarcely budged and by the time they set the last excluder, he was feeling like a pro.

“Now we take the honey. The supers will be heavy, but there won’t be many bees to bother us.”

Will wondered if she was smiling underneath the dark gauze of her hat. But she was right about the honey part. His heavy breathing was purely from hard labor this time. When they were finished, they both sagged against the side of the pickup, ripping off their hats and gloves to let the slight breeze cool them.

“So what did you think?” Annie asked.

Will hesitated. “Harder work than I expected,” he began, “and I admit to feeling some panic when that first super came off. I was expecting them to go down to the bottom right away.”

“There are always a few that get angry rather than frightened.” She closed the rear end of the truck. “How about a sandwich and a cold drink back at the house?”

“Great,” he said, tossing his hat on top of hers in the back of the truck and climbing into the passenger side. “So what’s on the agenda after lunch?” he asked after she slid behind the steering wheel.