How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart

by Candice Sue Patterson

  When they passed a sign announcing five more miles to Stone Harbor, Missy finally spoke up. “Be careful with my sister. She’s been through a lot.”

  “You’re one to talk. You’ve put her through misery the last month, disappearing and not answering your phone.” He clamped his teeth together and reined in his temper. He forced the edge from his voice. “What’s this about, Missy?”

  She twisted her purse strap until the fake leather squeaked. After a long pause, she tossed it aside and rubbed her palms down her jeans. “Do you have any idea why your uncle would leave me something in his will?”

  Huck floored the brake. “What?”

  Tires squealed, and they jolted forward.

  Missy grabbed the dash. “Maybe you should pull over.”

  Good idea. A convenience store lay ahead. He pulled into the parking lot and angled the truck into the first available space. Missy gripped her purse and bolted out the door. He opened his. His leg wasn’t strong enough for a chase, but if that’s what it came to…

  When Missy entered the building, he relaxed against the seat and closed the door.

  A few minutes later, she returned with two foam cups. The heater blasted lukewarm air through the cab, and he made a mental note to check the heating coil. Missy handed him a drink.

  “Thanks.”

  She nodded and pressed her lips to her straw, suctioning red liquid through it. She swallowed and traced the lid with her finger. “Your uncle remembered me in his will. Which is really weird, since I’ve never met the man. I wondered if you could tell me why.”

  Had he heard her right? His brain was still a little fogged from that kiss. “No idea. Are you sure it was my uncle?”

  She bobbed her head. “Martin Eugene Billings, resident of Trenton.”

  The one and only. Uncle Marty had taken care of every detail with his lawyer as if he’d known when he was going to die. Since the will was all settled, Huck hadn’t questioned it.

  He eyed her warily. “What’d ya get?”

  She played with her straw as if deciding whether or not to light this stick of dynamite. “Cash from the sale of a 1967 Chevelle.”

  His jaw dropped. “You got the Chevelle?”

  Missy shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”

  The classic flashed before his eyes. The shiny orange paint, the glimmering chrome. He was gonna need something stronger going down his hatch than this pop. “How much did it sell for?”

  She hiked her chin. “None of your business.”

  Why would his uncle leave something like that to a stranger? He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  “So you have no clue whatsoever why your uncle would leave me money?”

  “No.”

  Neither said a word. Customers entered and exited the store. Nothing in Uncle Marty’s will had made sense. None of it.

  “I could see him leaving Arianne something, I guess.” Missy broke the silence. “They knew each other. Spoke often. But, why me?”

  The dots connected. “You’re M. Thompson.”

  She nodded and took another sip. “So, tell me about Martin Billings.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m curious about the man who left me a small fortune for no apparent reason.”

  Huck gazed out the window. “He was a regular Joe. Known in the community, not showy or wealthy.” He looked at Missy. “An all-around good guy.”

  Quiet returned to the cab, and he sipped his drink. As far as Huck knew, his uncle hadn’t left anything to Arianne. Why would he leave something to her sister?

  The boutique windows were dark when they returned to Pine Bay. Streetlights bathed the truck and allowed enough light to see around the cab. Missy wrapped her fingers around the door handle. “Please, don’t say anything to Arianne about this.”

  Huck put his hands in the air. “Oh, no. I’m not keeping any more secrets. She’s mad enough already.”

  “Please. If she finds out, she’ll want answers I can’t give. I promise I’ll tell her as soon as I figure this out.” She put a hand on his arm. “I know you care about my sister. You have to agree there’s no need to upset her until we know the facts. She worries enough. She’s big-hearted and delicate and—”

  “I’m not making any promises.” He’d wanted to protect Arianne from whatever this was, but it backfired instead. “You need a ride?”

  She shoved open the door, inviting in the cold air. “I have a ride. Thanks.”

  He watched Missy jog to a sedan down the block. Fog escaped the exhaust after a minute; then she pulled away.

  The entire ride home, Huck’s mind reeled. News of the Chevelle and that smokin’ kiss with Arianne were almost too much to handle in one day. And how he was going to explain his miraculously healed leg? Maybe he could claim it was an answer to her prayers.

  Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he rolled up the drive. Arianne’s car was parked beside the back door. The hazy porch light illuminated the contents of her open trunk.

  Suitcases.

  ~*~

  Arianne willed herself not to shed anymore tears. Emma was having a hard enough time as it was.

  “Mommy, will Mr. Huck be back before we leave?” Emma pumped her legs on the side of their bed.

  Not if she hurried. Arianne shoved the last of Emma’s clothes into her bag. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t want to leave.” Her little voice trembled.

  “We have to, honey. Huck’s all better now, and we can’t stay any longer.” Arianne hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and left the room.

  “I didn’t think he could get any hotter.” Missy’s comment the day she’d run into Huck at the shop grated Arianne’s nerves worse than a fiddle severely out of tune.

  Her sister? He’d aimed straight for the jugular.

  What a fool she’d been, falling into his arms when he had other women waiting in the wings. She wasn’t the closing act. She was intermission.

  Oh, what did it matter? It was just a stupid kiss. People gave away meaningless kisses every day. Arianne stopped at the end of the hall. Not her. She didn’t even know she could kiss with such reckless abandon. And she’d certainly never been kissed that way before. Not even by her ex-husband. Huck’s kiss had been full of rugged passion and vulnerability…

  Enough! He was out with Missy right now, probably kissing her the same way, giving her the same false, giddy feeling. She continued toward the boxes stacked by the door. Arianne heaved one onto her hip and struggled for balance. She’d fallen for this twice. Twice! Only this time, the other woman was her sister.

  She kicked open the door. It swung back and crashed against the house. Wild, free-spirited, unpredictable—wouldn’t they make the perfect couple?

  She walked into the cold night and jolted at Huck’s image standing by her car, coat zipped to his chin, hands buried in his pockets.

  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she snapped.

  He looked to her open trunk. “Where’re you going?”

  She moved toward her vehicle. “Home.”

  “Arianne, I know you’re angry, but, please, hear me out.”

  “Mr. Huck!” Emma flew past Arianne and captured Huck’s legs in her arms.

  “Hey, kid.” He rubbed circles on Emma’s head with his palm, never taking his eyes off Arianne.

  “Are you going with us, Mr. Huck?”

  He stared at Arianne. A raw desperation radiated from his eyes, begged her to say yes. When Arianne didn’t invite him, he said, “Not this time.”

  Emma released his legs and hung her head.

  Arianne stormed to the car and threw the box and bag into the trunk. Her daughter would suffer the most, and it was all her fault. “Emma, will you please go inside and gather up all your dolls?”

  “Yes, Mommy.” Tears shimmered on Emma’s lashes, and she trudged into the house.

  Huck pulled his hands from his pockets and joined her by the car.

  Arianne slammed the trunk.
“How’s the leg?”

  “Fine.”

  She threw a hand on her hip. “Care to tell me how one second you’re hobbling around on crutches and the next you’re miraculously healed?”

  His mouth turned up. “Your kisses have healing powers?”

  This was no time for games. “Did you tell that to Missy too?”

  “I’m not dating your sister.”

  “Yeah, right. Yesterday on the phone, Missy told me she had a date tonight. You said this morning that you had a date tonight, and then Missy shows up asking if you’re ready. I’m not stupid.” She started past him, but he caught her arm.

  “You have my word, Arianne.”

  She yanked away from his grip. “What good is that?”

  He winced like she’d slapped him.

  Maybe she should. “You’ve watched me worry myself sick about Missy for weeks now, knowing good and well this whole time where she was.”

  “Until this morning, I hadn’t talked to Missy since high school. When she called, she sounded upset. All she wanted to do was meet and talk.”

  “I bet.”

  “Think about it, Arianne. Missy would’ve reacted a lot differently if we were dating and she’d walked in on me kissing another woman.”

  Arianne opened her mouth only to close it again.

  True. Missy had seemed distant not angry.

  Huck shook his head. “Uncle Marty remembered her in his will, and she wants to know why, since she’s never met him. She asked me not to tell you until she’s figured it all out, but I didn’t make any promises.” He inched closer. “I’m not dating your sister. Or anyone.”

  Marty had left her sister something? Why did Missy want to keep it a secret?

  Huck closed the space between them. “I came by the shop to tell you I was meeting Missy because I felt guilty for hiding it from you. Then I saw you in that dress and…”

  He scratched his jaw.

  “And what?”

  He gripped her elbows and pulled her closer. “And I forgot why I’d even walked in there. All I could think about was how beautiful you looked.” He rested his forehead against hers. “And how badly I wanted you.”

  Arianne jerked away. Oh, he was good. He’d had practice over the years to know exactly what to say to a woman to make her heart sing. She couldn’t trust him. He’d still lied to her and she was tired of being deceived. “What’s your game, Huck?”

  “No games.”

  “Then why did you lie about your leg?”

  “I didn’t want you to leave.”

  “Why, because you’d miss your housekeeper?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to go back to the way my life was before.”

  “Well, that’s your problem. We’re leaving.” She stuffed her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her keys.

  His fingers dove through his hair. “Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry for not telling you about your sister. I’m sorry I lied about my leg, my date. I’ll be completely honest with you from now on. Please, Arianne, don’t leave.”

  Her instincts told her the crackle in his voice was genuine, which probably meant he was lying his face off. “Why? Give me one good reason why I should stay.”

  His warm hands encased her face. “Because I…” His eyes grew wide. A few seconds passed and Huck let go. He hit his palm against the car’s metal frame. Rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

  That’s what she’d thought. “It’s called Florence Nightingale syndrome.”

  He looked at her. “What?”

  “What you think you’re feeling. It’s when a patient develops romantic feelings for their caretaker. You’re grateful for what I’ve done for you, confusing your psyche into believing it’s something more. That’s all this is.”

  Huck stared off into the distance with a slight shake of his head. He’d figure it out eventually. She opened her door and started the car. It sputtered but turned over, sending a cloud from the exhaust. She got out and shut the door.

  Huck stood there, hands in his coat pockets. “It doesn’t matter what I say, you’re going to leave. Aren’t you?”

  For a moment she saw him as a small boy watching one dad after another walk away. She’d never seen such a crumpled mix of anguish on one person before, the shrapnel of abandonment. Except in her own reflection. Her heart screamed for him, but her head told her she was a fool. Someone needed to fight for her for a change.

  Her boiling anger had dropped to a simmer. “I have to. You’re healed. It’s no longer appropriate for us to be here.”

  Emma slunk from the house, dragging her Barbie suitcase. Arianne took it from her and threw it into the backseat. “Come on, Emma. It’s time to go.”

  Sobs erupted from her daughter, twisting Arianne’s heart. Emma didn’t remember much about her dad, but this scene, she’d remember.

  “I don’t want to go, Mommy.”

  Arianne turned her back and pressed a hand to her mouth. Tears welled up in her with the force of Niagara, and though she closed her eyes tight, a few managed to escape.

  Huck’s soft voice carried to her ears. “It’s all right, kid. I’ll be around. You be good and go with your mama, and maybe you both can come back to visit sometime.”

  Emma sniffled. “But I want to stay with you, Mr. Huck.”

  A beat of silence. “Now that we’re good friends, I think it’s time you just call me Huck.”

  Another sniffle. “We’re friends?”

  “The very best.”

  His voice was deep, full of emotion. Arianne wiped her frozen cheeks. She turned and found him kneeling in front of Emma. He stared into Emma’s eyes with a tenderness she’d never witnessed in him before.

  Emma slipped her arms around his neck. “Goodbye, Huck.”

  Huck wrapped his arms around Emma. He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Goodbye, Emma.”

  Tears poured down Arianne’s cheeks. He’d finally called her daughter by her name. With every cell in her being, she longed to throw her arms around them.

  Arianne swallowed the tennis ball-sized lump in her throat. “Emma, it’s time.”

  Huck released her. “Be good.”

  “Mommy says we can’t take Baby Kitty tonight. Will you take good care of him for me?”

  “I will.”

  Emma rubbed her eyes and followed Arianne to the car, sobbing all the way. Arianne buckled Emma in, kissed her daughter’s wet cheek, and closed the door. Huck’s gaze locked with hers for several seconds.

  Arianne realized she’d overreacted about Missy. But Huck’s past behavior had her spooked and she was tired of being a doormat for men to wipe their shoes on. Besides, the way she’d reacted to his kiss—she needed to move out.

  Finally, Huck backed toward the door. “Got everything?”

  “Yep.”

  He looked down at his feet then up again. “Take care.”

  “You too.”

  Arianne slid beneath the steering wheel and put the car in drive. Huck watched them leave until the dark night swallowed him in her rearview mirror.

  Male bees, called drones, don’t have stingers to protect themselves.

  26

  The drafty apartment was dark and depressing. Walls closed in on her. Breaths weren’t deep enough. Air wasn’t fresh enough.

  The company wasn’t masculine enough.

  Arianne put down her fork. Missy and Emma picked at their food too.

  Emma hadn’t smiled since they left Huck’s last week. She missed her kitty. Missy had called yesterday to reconcile, but she, too, lacked enthusiasm tonight. Arianne wouldn’t ask why. She’d promised Missy over the phone that she wouldn’t mother-hen anymore, and that she’d let Missy live her life without interfering. She’d manage, grateful to have her sister safe and relieved that Missy and Huck had no romantic interest in each other.

  Arianne pushed back her plate with a sigh. “How about we forget the pasta and go straight to the cookies?”

  Missy and Emma bo
th shrugged, staring at their plates.

  Arianne retrieved the cream-filled cookies and placed a gallon of milk on the table. The bag crackled as she tore it open. These wouldn’t solve her problems, but they’d make her feel better for a few minutes.

  Until they were all gone.

  Arianne poured a glass of milk and drowned a cookie.

  “You and your sweets.” Missy pushed her uneaten pasta to the side.

  Arianne slid the double-stuffed delights in Missy’s direction. Missy shook her head, so Arianne ate one for her. “I can’t help it. I get it honestly. You know how Mom loved her sweets.”

  Emma reached for one.

  Missy dropped her chin in her hand. “No, I don’t know. I don’t remember anything about her.”

  “Really?” The cookie broke in half and sunk to the bottom of Arianne’s glass. She grunted, munched on the salvaged end, and took another one.

  “I was two when she died. I can’t remember what she looked like, much less her personality.”

  “I should’ve done more to help you remember her.”

  Missy shrugged and scooted from the table. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does,” Arianne said through a mouthful of mushy chocolate.

  Missy forked her spaghetti into the trash. “Everywhere we went, people said, ‘Arianne, you look just like your mother.’ You and Dad hung out, did things together. I was the odd one out.”

  The plate splashed into the sudsy sink.

  Arianne swallowed. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  Missy shrugged. “You were too busy living the life Dad had mapped out for you to notice.” Her voice cracked.

  Arianne wiped her hands and mouth with a napkin and led Missy into the living room. She searched her sister’s teary eyes. “What’s brought all this about?”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why Dad had big plans for you and nothing for me?”

  “He had greater expectations of the oldest child, I guess.”

  “But he didn’t have any for me. Why?”

  Arianne drew Missy close and squeezed. “I’m sure he did.”

  “No, he didn’t. He never once mentioned me going to college. When I brought it up, he chuckled like, Yeah right. You, go to college?”