The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Carter, Janice

  “It wasn’t at serious risk,” he muttered. “Word travels fast here.”

  “Oh, yeah. The Garden Valley Grapevine. I almost missed it when I was in New York.” Someone jostled Annie from behind and she turned sharply. When she looked back up at Will, his gaze hadn’t wavered. So now what? Annie wondered. Nice to see you again? Have a good road trip?

  “So, are you heading out of the valley?” she asked.

  “Uh, no. Captain Andrews gave me the phone number of the fellow who owns that campsite you mentioned. I’ve arranged to meet him there at noon.”

  Annie hoped her voice was calmer than her insides. “It’s a beautiful place. I think you’ll like it.”

  “I drove through it yesterday, but there was no one around.”

  “Ah. That’s when you spotted the fire.”

  He nodded, then noticed it was his turn at the cashier and moved forward. Annie peered into her cart. She had enough for the express line but still hadn’t completed her shopping.

  “It’s early yet,” she said. “Want to go for a coffee?”

  A trace of a smile crossed his face and he said, “Sure.”

  WILL STIRRED his coffee slowly, trying not to be too obvious about staring at her. Her hair was tied back in some kind of knot that made her look a bit older. Or sophisticated, he amended, except for the jeans and sleeveless cotton blouse.

  “How’s your father?” he suddenly thought to ask, careful to angle his body so she wouldn’t have to look straight at his scar.

  “He’s fine. Everything went well.”

  Will nodded. He took another drink of his coffee, glancing at her again as he swallowed. She didn’t look any more comfortable than he was feeling. Was it the scar? He didn’t blame her. He couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror. Reminded him of too much…

  The problem was he really wanted to talk about Annie. How she spent her leisure time. Or more to the point, with whom. She was far too pretty not to have someone.

  Don’t even go there, Jennings. You could hardly expect her to be attracted to you. Not like this.

  “I’ll probably go to Charlotte in the next day or so,” she added.

  He thought immediately of the arsonist on the loose in the valley. “What about the apiary? Will someone be looking after it?”

  “The McLeans—Danny, our student help, and his father—will check on the place for me.”

  “Will that be enough?”

  “Enough?”

  “Of a deterrent.”

  He saw something in her face. He couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or anxiety. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

  He shrugged.

  “Is there something else?” she asked, her forehead lined with worry. “Something you found out at the Lewis place?”

  “No, no,” he said, clearing his throat, trying to think of a way to get past the roadblock he’d just set up. “The captain—”

  “Scott Andrews.”

  “Yeah. He thought the fire might have been set by the same person responsible for the others in the valley but he doesn’t know for sure yet.”

  “So there you go,” she said, pursing her lips. “For all we know, the fire could have been caused by somebody driving by the place and tossing a cigarette butt out a car window.”

  Except for the gasoline can, he thought. “Sure. It happens.” They looked at one another long enough for Will to realize she guessed he was saying that to ease her mind. But the chances of the arsonist striking so soon and so close to the Lewis farm were small. How many fires had actually been set—something like four in a three-month period? Nah. The odds were in her favor. “No point in panicking,” he added.

  She continued to stare at him before finally picking up her coffee mug and sipping from it. When she set it down, she asked, “What time do you have to meet Sam Waters?”

  The unexpected change of subject took him aback. Obviously, she didn’t want to keep talking about the fires and any potential danger to the apiary. What options did she have? She had to visit her father and there wasn’t anyone else at home. He looked down at his watch. “In about five minutes.”

  Her eyes widened. “Guess you’ll have to go.”

  He wished now he hadn’t set a time with Waters. The coffee break might have segued into lunch. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

  As he glanced down at her upturned face, he thought he saw disappointment. Maybe his intuition had been right yesterday after all, when he’d felt a connection with this woman. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thanks again for the coffee.”

  She rose from her chair. “I should be going as well. Lots to do before I can head for Charlotte.”

  He followed her out to the street, his mind teeming with images. The way the sun picked up strands of amber, chestnut and honey in her hair; the scatter of gold in her eyes. Her skin reflected a glow of good health. Next to her, he felt old, wrung-out and far too worldly.

  “Well,” she said almost breathlessly, “if you need any more honey, you know where to get it.”

  “And if you need any help with swarms, you know where to find me.”

  That made her smile. She turned, walking away from the Red and White Grocery.

  The old Will Jennings—the one before the accident—would never have let a beautiful woman slip away like that.

  He was still mulling over this transformation when he turned onto the gravel road at the campsite entrance. The sunlight-dappled trees, sparkling stream and distant hills confirmed the wisdom of his decision to leave Newark.

  There was a Chevy Blazer parked in front of the office and when Will pulled up alongside it, a burly man in faded jeans and plaid shirt who looked to be in his late thirties ambled out to greet him.

  “Jennings?”

  “Yeah,” Will said as he climbed out of the van.

  “Sam Waters. Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking Will’s hand. He cast his eyes across Will, lingering a fraction of a second on the scar before switching to the van. “Haven’t seen one of those in a long while. Right out of the sixties.”

  “It’s a later model, but you’re right. Not many around.”

  “Too bad. I bet they’re better made than most of the new vans.”

  Will thought of the struggling transmission but just nodded.

  “Scotty said you were interested in hanging around the valley for a few days. Were you planning on doing any fishing or hunting?”

  “Maybe some fishing and hiking.”

  “Okay. Just asking ’cause there’s trout in the stream but the season’s not open yet. As for hunting, not much around except white-tailed deer and season’s not on for them either. Unfortunately.” He paused for a moment. “If you do go hiking, wear long pants. Lots of ticks in this area.”

  “Sure. Uh, how much is it for the night?”

  The man scrunched up his face in thought. “Tourist season isn’t quite open yet so… How does twenty bucks a night sound to you?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Do you want a cabin, or are you going to bunk in the van?”

  “Is the cabin twenty bucks?”

  “Maybe double that.”

  Will had the feeling the guy was making up the prices as he went along. He peered around at the otherwise deserted grounds. “I assume there are facilities, if I stay in the van.”

  “For sure. Even got hot water. The washroom and shower lodge is over there.” He pointed to a cabin halfway between the office and the stream. “Me and my brother are working on a laundry right now. That shed there,” he said and jerked his head to a wooden structure the size of a small garage several yards to the left of the office. “The place is in a bit of a turmoil right now but…”

  Will wondered for a moment if he might be better off going back to the motel. But then he caught sight of a large hawk skimming over the trees. The ambience was a heck of a lot more relaxing here than the sports bar adjacent to the motel.

  “No problem,” he said.r />
  “Great. Well, c’mon in and get registered. I’ll show you around before I have to leave for work.”

  Will followed him into the office. The desk wasn’t so tidy today. It looked as though most of the contents of the filing cabinet had been dumped onto it. Waters waved a hand at the mess.

  “Don’t mind that. The one piece of paper I need seems to be missing. Isn’t that always the way?” He opened a drawer and fingered through it, coming up with a pair of keys. “Here. The small one opens the padlock on what we call the wash house—toilets and showers. I keep it locked when I’m not around. I don’t want any teenagers vandalizing the place.”

  “There’s the arsonist, too.”

  Sam’s eyes flashed back to Will. “Damn right. By the way, congratulations on a great job yesterday. The Cap was telling me about it.”

  Will was getting tired of the fuss. He knew, without a trace of false modesty, that what he’d done had been miniscule. “So I heard this is your first season. Think people will find the place, given that it’s not on the main highway? Not that it’s any of my business,” he swiftly added at the cloud that fell over the other man’s face.

  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.

  ANNIE 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.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SHE 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 toward 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.

  KIDS 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.”