The Beekeeper's Daughter

“You’re doing great,” she called out behind him.

He’d have made some glib remark about hollow praise but was trying not to trip. Annie was standing at the edge of the tarpaulin by the time he reached it, smiling encouragement as he set it down.

“Okay. I’ll take it from here.”

Will watched her carefully tip the contents of the box onto the canvas. Then she moved back to where he was standing and took off her hat and gloves. “Thanks.”

He smiled, unable to take his eyes off the bees. The swarm began to break up, moving across the canvas tarpaulin toward the opening in the bottom super.

“So they’re just going to go inside now?”

“Yep. It won’t take too long. Maybe half an hour. I might have to brush some of them off the branch to hurry them along.”

“And they’ll start up another hive in there?”

“That’s right. Look, there’s the queen. She’s the large oval-shaped one with the three stripes on her back.”

Will leaned over the tarpaulin and, after a few seconds, spotted the much larger queen. “She looks like royalty,” he said, “the way she’s marching across the canvas.”

“Yeah. Dad says it’s the equivalent of the royal wave.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “It’s natural to be wary of a swarm. I guess many of us remember getting stung as kids. And of course, some people are allergic.” Her face clouded over. “God, I never thought to ask if you were allergic.”

“It’s okay. I was stung once and nothing much happened so I guess I’m not.” She’d removed the bee suit and the front of her tank top clung to her in a large, damp V. Will glanced at her hand on his arm, instantly regretting it when she pulled it away. He’d liked the feel of her warmth against his bare skin.

His eyes drifted to her face, still flushed with the exertion of bringing down the branch. A drop of perspiration clung to one eyebrow and a strand of hair was plastered to her forehead.

Abruptly he turned his attention back to the swarm. “You were right. They’re almost all inside.”

“Safe and sound.” After a moment, she added, “How about a cold beer when we get back to my place?”

Will felt his tension begin to unwind. “I’d like that. Thanks.” Well worth snaring a swarm of bees.

CHAPTER THREE

ANNIE RAN THE TIP of her finger along the edge of her empty glass, peering down at it as if she found it far more interesting than the man sitting across the table from her. But she wasn’t fooling herself and likely wasn’t fooling him, either.

The strange fact was that even though she’d known Will for less time than it usually took her to grocery shop in Essex, she felt as though it had been years.

“You said your father’s surgery was tomorrow morning?” he suddenly asked.

“Hmm?” She raised her head. “Yes.”

“When do you expect him back?”

“Maybe not for a couple of weeks. His friend, Shirley, is hoping she can persuade him to take a bit of a holiday afterward. But knowing Dad, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I was thinking of looking for work myself. Maybe…in town.”

Annie stared at him. Was he asking her for a job on the farm?

She was debating whether to be frank and tell him straight out that they could barely afford to hire another part-time student when he added, “Just that I thought I might stick around the valley for a bit before…well, heading out on the road again. If you know anyone looking for someone to do odd jobs, I’d appreciate it.”

“What kind of work?”

He shrugged. “Anything really. Yard work. Basic carpentry. Whatever.”

“What did you do in New Jersey?” As soon as the question popped out, Annie felt the temperature in the kitchen drop.

There was a quick interplay of emotions in his face, as if he were having an argument with himself. He stared at his empty beer bottle. “I was a firefighter.”

“Oh.” She hesitated for a second before blurting, “Is that where—”

“Yeah. An accident.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything much to say. “The long story.”

A trace of a smile crossed his face. “The long story,” he repeated. After a moment during which Annie wished she’d never asked the question, he added, “Part of a burning roof collapsed on me.”

A simple statement, but enough to etch a vivid picture in her mind. “So are you on sick leave now…or holidays?”

“Actually, I quit. And that’s—”

“Another long story,” she finished.

“You got it.” There was a slight pause. “Maybe I should confess now how badly I wanted to run from that swarm.”

Annie bet he wasn’t the type to admit to a real weakness quite so nonchalantly, but she played along. “Could have fooled me.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re mocking me?”

He sounded stern but she caught the look in his eyes and smiled. Then she realized that she was practically flirting with a stranger in her kitchen. She looked down at her empty glass again.

“I guess I should be heading out,” he said after another long silence. He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Thanks again for the honey, but you should let me pay for it,” he said, reaching for the small plastic bucket on the table.

“No way. As I said, I really appreciated your help.”

She followed him to the kitchen door and out into the yard. The sun had disappeared behind the honey barn roof and the yard, now in shade, was cooler. A faint breeze carried with it the delicate fragrance of the tulip poplar in full bloom at the corner of the house.

Will paused by the driver-side of the van and raised his face into the breeze. “Smells like spring.”

“Spring’s been here for a few weeks now. We’re a long way from New Jersey.”

“Yeah.” His expression was unreadable. “A long way,” he repeated softly, before abruptly opening the van door.

Annie peered over his shoulder into the van. “Looks like you’ve made yourself a cozy living space.”

“It works for me.” He set the honey inside. “That bench folds down into a bed and there’s a small fridge and propane burner for cooking. I stay at campsites wherever possible for the shower and laundry facilities.”

“There’s one not far from here,” Annie said impulsively. “Off the main highway back toward Essex. Rest Haven Camp, about ten miles outside the town limits.”