If Not For A Bee

JANIE WASN’T EAVESDROPPING on purpose. She’d knocked softly on the back door like she always did in case Violet was sleeping. No one had answered so she’d let herself in, immediately heard voices, headed for the sound and almost walked right into the middle of the conversation. She’d had every intention of making herself known until she’d realized they were talking about her. And as the meaning of the words gradually coalesced in her brain, she’d stood frozen in shock. Eventually, she’d managed to turn around and quietly exit the way she’d come in.

If she didn’t have to pick up Gareth and Reagan she would simply get back into her car and drive off. But Bering had picked up the boys after school, which meant they could be anywhere within a ten-mile radius around here.

Uneducated? Fine, so she didn’t have a journalism degree. But qualified? Yes! She did have years of experience working for Laurel at the Rankins Press. What did he have? The answer immediately popped into her head—a doctorate degree, a lifetime spent traveling the world, articles published in prestigious scientific journals, television appearances and an important, soon-to-be-released documentary film... Fine, so he was more educated and accomplished, but that didn’t give him the right to mock and belittle her in that way.

And mommy-ish? What...?

Janie looked down at her khakis, pink button-down shirt, sensible “comfort” shoes. She reached up and smoothed her hands over the loosely twisted bun situated above the nape of her neck. Her fingers skimmed over the dainty white pearls in her ears...

Well, crap.

She’d obviously made quite an impression on him the day before. A niggle of insecurity crept over her...

She quickly squelched the feeling. Indignant, that’s how she should feel, she decided. So she was a mom, so what? Yes, it was a big part of her identity. But she loved being a mom, and raising four children didn’t exclude her from being a qualified journalist. And Emily was right, Laurel would never entrust her with an assignment if she didn’t think she could handle it.

She grinned as she thought about Emily’s defense of her. If she didn’t already adore her sister-in-law she certainly would now. But how could such a judgmental, condescending attitude belong to any brother of Emily’s?

Janie lightly tapped a fisted hand to her chin and tried to decide what to do. She didn’t like confrontation, yet she wasn’t afraid of standing up for what she thought was right. And her fighting side was urging her to march back into the house and confront him. To tell Dr. Hollings and his overeducated opinion exactly which cliff he could jump off of...

Suddenly she heard voices coming from the direction of one of Bering’s outbuildings. She turned and saw her brother and her two oldest sons waving at her. She lifted a hand in greeting and began walking their way.

“Hey, guys,” she said, trying to dampen her anger while infusing some enthusiasm into her tone. “Did you have fun?”

Her brother owned a successful local business—James Guide and Outfitter Service—that offered guide trips for fishing, hunting, wildlife and glacier viewings. People traveled from all over the country, even the world, for Bering’s excursions. Gareth and Reagan loved to spend time with their uncle while he was working—and when he wasn’t.

“Mom, we went out to the cabin and through the window we spotted a bear with two tiny cubs,” Gareth told her. “So cute.”

“A bear already?”

“Yep, first cubs of the year,” Bering said with a wide, cheerful smile.

Viewing wildlife never seemed to get old to Bering.

“That’s great,” she returned. “Spring is definitely in the air.”

“Mom,” Reagan said, “Tag is flying to Anchorage tomorrow and I need a few more things for my science project. I can’t wait for you to see it.” He fished a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. He’d made a list.

“I can’t wait, either.” And knowing her eleven-year-old genius like she did, she would undoubtedly be blown away by his efforts. Reagan had been working on the project for months, but hadn’t yet let her see his progress. He’d commandeered a corner of the garage and kept a tarp over the area when he wasn’t working on it.

“What are you guys up to now?”

“Unloading firewood.” Bering tipped his head toward the pickup, where most of the wood had already been tossed into a large haphazard pile ready to be split and stacked. “The boys helped me get a load while we were out.” He looked at his nephews. “You guys can call it a day. I sure appreciate your hard work, though.”

“No problem, Uncle Bering,” Gareth said proudly.

Reagan asked, “Mom, is it okay if we go down to the river?”

“Sure.”

She and Bering watched the boys head toward the river that bordered Bering’s vast property. Bering removed his baseball hat, ran a hand through his dark brown hair and then rearranged the cap back on his head. “Aidan is in the house with Emily and Violet. Have you seen them yet?”

“No, but Gareth and I ran into Aidan yesterday.” She hadn’t actually seen him just now—only heard his insensitive comments.

“You did?”

“Yep, in town. I didn’t recognize him at first, and we didn’t really have time to visit.” She vaguely related the occurrence, not wanting to rehash the finer details of the event.

“Oh...” Bering looked confused. “Aidan didn’t mention that he’d seen you guys.”

“Yeah, well—it was pretty brief.” Not surprising that Aidan hadn’t thought their encounter significant enough to mention, Janie thought, considering what she’d heard. That pretty much sealed her belief in her level of importance on Dr. Hollings’s scale.

“Do you like him?” Janie asked. She desperately, and yes, selfishly, wanted her brother to say no.

Bering rubbed his chin. “I don’t really know him very well, either. I mean—I haven’t seen him since the cruise and I was pretty single-minded then. All I really cared to see was Emily.”

Janie chuckled. “We were quite a pair, weren’t we? You lovesick and me...grief-sick.”

Bering grinned. “He seems like a good guy, though. Emily is crazy about him, so that means I want to be, too. We’ve talked on the phone here and there, used Skype a bit, but I’m looking forward to spending some time with him to get to know him better. He’s already crazy about Violet—of course.” Bering paused to widen his grin and then gestured toward the house. “Come on, let’s go in and say hi.”

“Sure,” Janie said quickly, “but why don’t I help you with this wood for a few minutes first? Get a jump on that pile.”

Janie knew Bering would never pass up her help and she wasn’t ready to face Aidan when she was still so angry and...deflated. Touching, she thought cynically, how Dr. Hollings was so intent on saving bees yet had no qualms about killing a person’s self-esteem. She felt a fresh spike of anger. Bering handed her a pair of gloves. She slipped them on as she walked over and picked up an ax, now counting on the physical exertion to calm her ire.

Chopping wood always helped ease her anxieties, like some primitive form of therapy. Although, it probably wasn’t all that healthy from a psychological point of view to imagine what she began to imagine about Aidan as she gripped the ax, and began chopping the thick circles of wood into wedges small enough to fit into the woodstove.

* * *

“SOUNDS LIKE BERING’S chopping wood,” Emily said a while later as she and Aidan stepped out the back door. “Come on, we’ll go say hi.”

As they walked toward one of the outbuildings, Emily pointed here and there and recited what Aidan was sure were some very interesting facts about their property, Bering’s business and Alaska in general. But he’d quit listening because he was mesmerized by the sight that had suddenly materialized before his eyes. Bering and a...woman? Who was skillfully chopping wood like some kind of tiny, female Paul Bunyan. Suddenly she stopped and lowered her ax, apparently to laugh at something Bering said. She grabbed ahold of his arm and doubled over. The throaty sound carried all the way over to him and he wondered why Emily wasn’t scratching this woman’s eyes out for pawing at her husband.

“Oh, good.” Emily smiled in their direction. “Janie’s here.”

Janie? Aidan felt a stab of surprise as they drew closer and he realized that it was indeed the woman he’d encountered the day before. She looked so...different—lively, vibrant and...happy.

But as they approached something shifted in her eyes, like a curtain being drawn or a sheet draped over a surprise. Aidan knew he was likely the cause and he almost cringed at the awkward moment about to unfold. Not that he was a stranger to awkward moments, but for some reason he particularly dreaded this one.

“Aidan, Janie, you guys remember each other, right?”

“Of course,” Janie said. “I was just telling Bering about how we ran in to each other in town yesterday.”

“You did?” Emily shot a baffled look in Aidan’s direction. “Aidan, you didn’t mention that you saw Janie?”

“Yeah, um...” he said, feeling tongue-tied. “It wasn’t...”

“Gareth and I were in a huge hurry,” Janie explained smoothly. “We didn’t really have time to chat.”

With quick little tugging movements, Janie removed the gloves she was wearing and smoothed the delicate-looking fingertips of one hand across her brow. Aidan stared at those same hands that had only moments ago been grasping an ax and chopping wood like an experienced logger. His eyes traveled over her as he searched for words to explain...