How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart

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How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart Page 27

by Candice Sue Patterson

She whipped around. Huck. “I need to get to Emma.”

  The agony in his eyes matched her own. “They’re still running tests. Let’s go outside, get some fresh air, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “I…” She looked from Huck to the woman’s glare, then back to Huck. From the corner of her eye, she noticed she’d drawn people’s attention in the waiting area, heard whispers. Tears blurred her view.

  Huck kissed her head. “Come on, baby.”

  “No, I…paperwork…Emma.”

  Another nurse approached the window. “The doctor is running an MRI right now. Why don’t you take a few minutes to calm down, and you can go back and see her as soon as they’re done. We’ll worry about the paperwork later.” She smiled, her soothing voice calming Arianne’s fire.

  Huck put his arm around her shoulders and led her outdoors.

  A fog settled around her as they moved down the sidewalk, the kind that appeared when something bad happened and the brain was combatting shock. They walked to the end of the sidewalk.

  “Emma.” Nausea sent the lowering sun in the pink sky spinning.

  Huck gathered her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Arianne. I’m so sorry.”

  His smothering touch grated. She pushed him away. “What happened?”

  He turned his head. “One minute she was there, and the next she was gone.” His hair stood in wild tufts, as if he’d been pulling on it. The skin around his eyes and mouth sagged.

  “What. Happened.”

  Huck scrubbed a hand down his face and closed his eyes. “I found her by the supers. She’d lifted the lid, stirred them up. I told her not to go without me.” He opened his eyes, paced. “I called 911. She wasn’t breathing.”

  A glimpse of her precious daughter with purple lips, struggling for breath, tortured her. Arianne released a moan before she could stop it. What if God took her? Emma was all she had left. Please, God. Don’t take her.

  The next thing she knew, Huck had her in his arms again, rocking her. “I’m sorry, baby.” His voice broke. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Don’t you trust me by now? I won’t let anything happen to that little girl.” His words from earlier that day rang in her ears. She was such an idiot. A sexy grin, a few flattering words, and her loneliness played into dangerous men’s hands every time. Only this time, it might cost her daughter’s life.

  Rage erupted—boiled and spewed. She wiggled from Huck’s embrace. “Yes, it was. How could you? That little girl loves you, trusts you.”

  I did too.

  Huck stared at her. “I…it was an accident. I was on the phone and—”

  Everything inside her burned with a fierceness that terrified her. “I’m so stupid for leaving her with you. Every time you have an accident someone ends up dead.”

  Huck paled. Stumbled back.

  The instant the words left her mouth, she hated herself for them. But this…this other Arianne had taken possession of her body, and she couldn’t stop. Emma was all she had.

  He concentrated on something in the distance. His eyes took on a glazed, faraway look. Then they started to glisten.

  She moved to go around him, but he caught her elbow. “Baby, please, I—”

  “I am not your baby.” She tore away from him.

  The kind woman from the nurses’ station appeared from the doorway and called to them. “Mrs. Winters? The doctor would like to speak with you.”

  Arianne raced to follow her inside when heavy footfalls sounded beside her. She stopped and pointed a finger at Huck. “Not you. You’ve done enough. Go home.”

  He inhaled. “Arianne. You need someone here to support you. Provide for you and Emma.”

  “I’ll call Jack.”

  She turned and took another step toward the door.

  “Jack? No.” He reached for her hand.

  Arianne spun to face him. “We’re through, Huck. Jack proposed. And I’m accepting.” Her stomach rolled. “I never want to see you again.”

  He grimaced as if she’d stabbed his heart and twisted the knife.

  She rushed through the door with Huck beside her. Apparently, he didn’t understand how serious she was. She stopped and poked a finger in his chest. “You’re not family. You have no right to be here. If you don’t leave and stay gone, I’ll call the police. Understand? Go. Home.”

  With that, she caught up to the woman and the doctor standing in an open doorway marked Staff Only. This time, she walked alone.

  The doctor directed her down the hallway. “Right this way, Mrs. Winters.”

  A loud click of the door echoed behind them, like the one permanently closing between her and Huck. She’d think about that later. “How’s my daughter?”

  The florescent lights reflected off the doctor’s gold-rimmed glasses. He was tall, and his caramel-colored skin appeared darker against the stark white lab coat. “I’m Doctor Blevins, pediatric specialist. Your daughter is stable, but very sick. We’ll talk in here.”

  He led her to a private room for consultations. Her legs grew weak from the fading adrenaline. She sank onto a chair and braced herself.

  The doctor sat across from her and crossed his legs. How could he be so casual when her world was falling apart?

  “Emma suffered over a hundred stings, which sent her into anaphylactic shock. The EpiPen used by the man who called for the ambulance helped counteract some of that until the paramedics arrived. But the poisons are attacking her kidneys. We have her on dialysis and a strong antibiotic. We’re still running tests and will closely monitor her condition.”

  Arianne’s bottom lip trembled. “Is she going to make it?”

  “We’re doing everything we can.”

  She slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her sobs.

  “We just got her settled in ICU. Third floor. We ask that you let her rest, and when she does wake up, avoid too much stimulation.”

  Arianne nodded.

  “Do you need a nurse to walk you there?”

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  She prayed, begged God to heal Emma as she took the elevator and walked the hallways to her daughter’s room. The metal bed swallowed Emma’s body. Tubes and cords stretched to a dozen different machines. She grabbed her baby’s cold, limp hand as tears poured down her face. Emma was swollen, and angry red knots covered her normally porcelain skin.

  Sooner or later, everything she loved got ripped away from her. In the past, she’d moved on, continued to love. Did what she had to do to survive. But losing Emma would kill her. “Please, God,” she whispered. “Save my baby girl.”

  ~*~

  Arianne fought against the pull of sleep. She needed to stay awake, but her eyelids were heavy, her body weighted with lead. A door opened. It took everything she had to crack one eye open. A blurry figure stood in her vision.

  “Arianne,” a deep voice whispered.

  She forced herself awake. Her sight cleared. Jack stood before her with red-rimmed eyes, clutching his brown coat. Sleep faded. She rose from the bedside chair. “Jack.”

  He tossed his coat onto the chair and embraced her in his warm, safe arms. Stable arms. “Oh, Jack.”

  She cried into his T-shirt.

  Jack rubbed her back, soothing. “Shh. It’ll be all right.”

  Emma lay asleep, breathing softly. The welts on her body had calmed dramatically overnight. A golden sky peered through the slits in the blinds.

  Arianne lifted her head. Jack’s presence made her feel stronger. “Thanks for coming.”

  He took her face in his hands and thumbed away her tears. “I left as soon as you called.”

  “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “I couldn’t get a flight, so I rented a car and drove through the night.”

  “But your mom—”

  “She’s fine. We got her home, and my sisters are taking good care of her.” He looked over at Emma and furrowed his brows. “What happened?”

  She told him about Emma’s fascination with Huck�
�s bees and Huck’s plan to surprise Emma for her birthday by teaching her how to care for them. Then she explained about the ruined wedding dress and how foolish she was to let Huck take Emma alone. The rage from yesterday began festering again. “The jerk thought a phone call took precedence over my daughter, and the next thing he knew, she was gone.”

  Jack’s mouth fell into a serious line. “I’m sure he didn’t mean for anything to happen to her.”

  He was defending Huck? Whose side was he on? “Huck should’ve been more responsible.”

  Jack nodded. “Agreed.”

  He looked down at his shoes. Her anger fizzled, like water thrown on hot coals. She trembled. “They’ll run more tests today to check her toxin levels. If she’s improved, we’ll discuss reducing the sedation medicine.”

  “Come here.” After picking up his coat, Jack settled onto the chair then pulled her onto his lap. He held her like a child, covering her with his coat. She burrowed against him, relishing the warm cocoon he’d created.

  This man loved her and Emma. He hadn’t used flattering words to convince her to love him back, hadn’t manipulated her feelings. He’d simply done his best every day to be the man God wanted him to be. God. He believed in God. Huck didn’t. Maybe that was why she hadn’t heard an answer to her prayers yet. The answer was staring her in the face all along. She needed to be with a godly man. A Christian man.

  Whether or not Jack’s touch created enough magic to shame the Northern Lights, she was going to marry him.

  She slipped her arms around Jack’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  ~*~

  Morning mist clung to Huck’s windshield. The sun cast a golden glow over the budding trees. Birds chirped.

  He stared at the gray stones that stretched the hillsides. They were all the same, yet each unique. Some larger than others. Some held miniature flags at the base, flapping in the breeze. Some had fake flowers stuck in plastic vases. Others were void. All had the same end result.

  Reality sucker-punched his middle. What would hers be like?

  Huck leaned away from the truck, uncrossed his ankles, and walked down the paved, narrow path. An eerie chill crawled up the back of his neck, as if the spirits below ground could sense his presence. He passed one stone with a birth and death date only a year apart. Huck stopped and stared at it. It wasn’t right, this death thing. Never knowing when it would strike. He wanted to believe what the pastor had said in church about a life after death, about heaven. But how could he believe in something he couldn’t see?

  He continued on, gaining ground toward the area where Giada was at rest. Was she? The fact that he was responsible for her being here tore his chest wide open. His precious little girl in the hospital could be next.

  Who was he kidding? She would never be his little girl. Arianne was marrying Jack. He’d lost them to a better man. Rightfully so. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never be good enough. Not good enough for Arianne. Not good enough for Emma. Not good enough for God.

  A yellow finch, perched on a granite headstone, cheeped as if calling to him. Beneath the bird, a name. Giada Roselli. Huck stopped. There she was.

  Emotions clogged his throat. He inched to the grave and knelt. Giada’s laughter catching in the wind filled his memory. Her vibrant smile. Her zest for life.

  Resting his palm on the polished rock, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Tears stung his eyes, a reaction he was unfamiliar with. The world went still. No birds. No sounds. He let the tears fall, let his emotions pour out of him as he grieved this young life he’d ended with his destructive choices. He cried for Giada. He cried for Arianne, the woman who taught him to love, and little Emma, who believed he was worthy of her adoration. But Arianne was gone, and Emma would never be his daughter, no matter how much his heart broke for them.

  Suddenly, it became clear. Uncle Marty had stood in the shadows and mourned the loss of a life that could never be his. If he couldn’t provide for those girls in life, he made sure he provided for them in death. The old dog knew Huck had been in love with Arianne since high school. Must’ve known that by throwing them together, Huck would do the right thing, take care of her. Love her. The way Uncle Marty wanted to with her mother.

  Except Huck had failed. The one thing he was good at.

  Emma couldn’t end up like this because of him. She couldn’t. His heart cried out. God, please. If you’re there, please…

  Nothing.

  Huck tipped his wet face to the sky, gazing into the clouds. Either God wasn’t there, or He couldn’t hear Huck.

  Wiping his eyes with his coat sleeve, he stood, disappointed. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe a sign that God was really there. He wanted God to exist. To believe someone could love him unconditionally despite his faults.

  Huck sniffed and leaned forward, giving the headstone one last grip. He mentally said goodbye to Giada and turned. A black-haired woman in her fifties with olive skin and big dark eyes stared back at him. A heavy set man with more gray in his hair than brown held her hand.

  Embarrassment washed through Huck. He’d hogged the space like he was the only one who’d ever lost someone. “Pardon me.”

  He nodded and stepped carefully around the nearby stones.

  “What’s your name, son?” the man asked.

  Huck knotted his forehead. Why did it matter? “Huck Anderson.”

  The woman gasped. The man placed his hand over his heart. “We’re Alberto and Bellina Roselli. Giada’s parents.”

  And I have said, I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt…unto a land flowing with milk and honey.

  —Exodus 3:17

  35

  Huck’s blood froze. The woman standing before him, Bellina, had Giada’s hair and stature. The man, Alberto, stared at him, eyes wide with fear as if Huck were a ghost.

  They must hate him. Huck’s eyes burned. What could he possibly say for what he’d done?

  “I’m so sorry.” He knew it wasn’t enough, but it was the truth. “I never meant to hurt her.”

  No, he’d just slept with her, toyed with her emotions. Used her. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked at his boots.

  “Of course you didn’t.” Bellina’s words were soft. Kind. The opposite of what he’d expected.

  Huck’s head came up. Instead of contempt on their faces, he saw compassion. How was that possible when he’d murdered their daughter? “The car was in my lane. I tried to avoid a wreck, but lost control. I…”

  His own voice sounded far away, unfamiliar.

  Bellina released her husband’s arm and walked to Huck. She stared up at him, tears filling her eyes, and gripped his arm. The wind shifted her long, black hair. “It was an accident.”

  Grief etched her face. Her motherly touch, her soft words, radiated forgiveness. Bile rose in Huck’s throat. He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have had her on my bike. Shouldn’t have been going so fast.”

  Shouldn’t have been ready to throw her out like yesterday’s leftovers.

  He looked at Alberto, who wiped his face with a handkerchief. Giada had been this man’s child—his little girl. And Huck had used her for his own pleasure. If a man ever treated Emma that way… Yet he was that kind of man.

  “We cannot change what God wills.” Bellina’s thick, accented whisper filled the air.

  Why wasn’t she angry? She should yell at him, slap him—he’d know how to handle that. He backed away from her tender grasp. “It’s my fault. I could’ve done somethin’ differently. I’m sorry.”

  Alberto stepped forward, tucking the handkerchief into his coat pocket. “We know it was an accident. Bellina and I forgive you.”

  Huck shook his head. The man had no idea how Huck had treated Giada. He clenched his teeth to keep from yelling.

  A single tear rolled down Bellina’s cheek. “Did you force her onto your motorcycle? Did you make the other driver have a heart attack? Did you mean to lose control?”

/>   “No.” But it was his fault. Somehow. It always was.

  Another of Bellina’s tears followed the first. “We forgive you. You must forgive yourself.”

  A sadness like he’d never felt before welled up from deep inside him. Huck ran his fingers through his hair, once, twice. If he didn’t escape now, he’d drown in it.

  Huck strode to a nearby concrete bench and dropped onto it. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he lowered his face in his hands. How could they possibly forgive him?

  A body stirred beside him. “We have prayed for you,” Bellina said.

  “Why? How can you forgive me for killing your daughter?” Sobs wracked his body. The more he tried to suppress them, the more they spilled out like waves. He hadn’t been this weak since he was seven, begging step-dad number two to stop pummeling him with his fists for digging a hole in the yard to bury his cat. He’d decided that day that caring for others hurt. He’d never allowed himself to again.

  Until Arianne and Emma. They’d climbed his wall.

  “You did not kill her. Life and death are in God’s hands.”

  “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

  “None of us do.” Alberto drew out his weary, Italian accent and closed in on Huck’s other side. “But that’s the beauty of God’s love. If Jesus could look down from the cross and forgive those who crucified him, we can forgive an accident.”

  Huck leaned back and wiped his wet palms on his jeans. All this God stuff. He wanted to believe it, but it confused him.

  Bellina handed him a tissue from her purse. “I won’t lie. Most days are hard. We do not know if Giada ever asked Jesus into her heart. We can only pray that she waits for us in heaven.”

  Huck scrubbed the tissue down his cheeks then blew his nose. He’d thought if he started being good, helped people, stayed out of trouble, he could make it into that place called heaven. Had Giada thought that too? Truth was no matter how hard he tried to be good, he just wasn’t.

  The flames of hell were licking his feet this very minute.

  Bellina held his hand and squeezed. “If you are on your way to heaven, you will see her again also.”

  Huck gazed at the headstones. No. This is where it would end for him. “I wish it were possible—to apologize to her, but I won’t be there.”

 

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