They’d worked well as a team in the morning, except for his humiliating few seconds of panic when she’d opened the first hive. He’d found the work totally different from anything he’d experienced before. And in a good way. It was definitely harder physical work than he’d imagined, but that was okay, too.
No, what was really bothering him was his need to hang around the valley. He’d satisfied his curiosity about Ambrosia Apiary and, as physically appealing as Garden Valley was, he figured there were plenty of equally beautiful places. He’d only begun his road trip, after all. So why was he acting as if this place were the end of his journey, rather than the start?
He watched Annie’s truck round the curve out of Rest Haven. Face it, pal. She’s the reason you’re lingering. He could admit that much, but shied away from the bigger question. What do you expect can possibly come out of it?
Will unlocked the van and took out a cold beer from his fridge. There’d been the offer of one at her place after they’d visited the McLean beeyard. She seemed more relaxed than she had after the phone call. He’d known as soon as she’d hung up that she was ticked off at him. Maybe she was regretting her decision to hire him. He hoped not, but at least she hadn’t changed her mind. Yet.
Must have been something he’d said. The thing about her father? Nah. How sensitive could she be? It had been the most innocuous remark a person could make. He snapped the tab on the can of beer and went outside to sit at the picnic table. Still, her mood had altered dramatically after his comment about Jack Collins wanting to protect her. The observation had slipped out without any real thought. He wasn’t sure himself what he’d meant by it. Now, in retrospect, he realized how presumptuous the comment had been. He didn’t really know her or her father.
He swallowed another mouthful and felt his muscles begin to relax. He hadn’t worked quite so hard since the accident. It felt good, mentally and physically. He missed his regular gym workouts with some of the guys from the fire hall.
But there was no reason to assume that working temporarily at Ambrosia Apiary was going to significantly change things for him. Perhaps the most he could hope for was respite from the loneliness that engulfed him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ANNIE DROVE INTO the parking lot adjacent to the hospital and found a space near one of the entrances. She hadn’t used her Ford Focus in ages. Since her exodus from New York, the car had sat in the shed behind the barn. Will had seemed surprised when she’d handed him the keys to the pickup, perhaps assuming she’d be stranded.
Back to Will again. She’d spent most of the drive from Garden Valley replaying the events of the day before. By the time she’d reached the outskirts of Charlotte, she’d forced herself to admit that she’d overreacted to his comment about her dad. He’d meant well, even if she didn’t expect his two cents.
The instant she saw her father sitting in bed, staring morosely at the tray in front of him, everything else vanished from Annie’s mind. She paused in the open doorway, watching him. He looked even frailer than he had the day he’d left the valley. He picked up a fork and prodded at something on the tray, then tossed it aside in disgust.
Annie smiled. Frail but still feisty. She tapped on the door frame. His craggy head swung her way, his smile illuminating the room.
“Annie!”
“Hi, Dad.” She crossed the room and bent to kiss him. It was an awkward greeting with the tray in the way. There was an intravenous line in his left arm and he hadn’t had a shave yet that morning. Large dark circles underlined his eyes and the furrows in his cheeks seemed deeper than usual. He looked like an old man. The image saddened her and she fought back tears. She was overwhelmed with an impulse to swoop him up and take him home.
“Shirl said you were coming. How’re things at the farm? Did you check that hive at the Vanderhoffs’? The one I told you might swarm?”
Annie’s face heated up. Hold that urge. “Yes, I did, Dad. Not to worry.” She moved around the bed to a chair next to the window.
“Well, did it swarm or not?”
“It did—but I got it,” she added quickly when he frowned.
“Set up a new one in the same area?”
“Yes, Dad. I know the drill. But how are you? Shirley said you were up walking yesterday.”
“No rest for the wicked in this place. It’s worse than an overpopulated beehive. People coming and going—all wearing those green outfits with stethoscopes dangling from their necks. Like being in one of those medical TV shows.”
“The kind you never watch?”
He leaned forward to make a point. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone over the age of fifty. They all call themselves doctors but most of them haven’t even begun to shave yet. The men, I mean.” He fell back onto the pillow. His chest was heaving through his hospital gown. “When are we leaving?”
Annie felt breathless listening to him. “I don’t know. What did your doctor say?”
His thick eyebrows furled together. “I’ve only seen him once, for crying out loud. The man’s hiding from me, I think.”
Annie stifled a smile. Probably. “Shirley said they have a place for you at the rehab center. There’s a chance you might be going tomorrow or the day after.”
He glared at her. “What’s the point of going to a place where they give you a bunch of exercises? I can do that at home.”
“You can be supervised to make sure you’re doing them right.”
“Bah.” He waved a hand in her direction. “Besides, there’s no exercise like good honest work.”
She tried not to roll her eyes. He’d trotted out this line on a number of occasions. “And Shirley thinks this is a great opportunity for the two of you to spend some time together—away from the apiary,” she stressed.
He gave her a wounded look, as if she were playing dirty bringing Shirley into the equation. “Ah cripes,” was all he muttered.
Annie seized her chance. “Anyway, things are shipshape at home. I’ve got someone new at the apiary.”
“What?” He slowly pulled himself up against the pillows and pushed aside the tray. “Who? What about Danny?”
She’d given the story some thought on the drive from the valley and had decided to focus on the magazine article, knowing how proud her father had been to read about Ambrosia Apiaries in an international publication. “Remember after that magazine article came out and all those people started showing up at the farm, wanting to see the apiary and buy honey?”
“Yeah. Get on with it, girl. I’ve no time for long stories.”
Annie scanned the room as if to point out that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Well, the other day a man appeared with a copy of the article. He’d read it as a boy and had never forgotten about it. He…uh…was on a road trip through North Carolina when he decided to make a detour and see if the apiary was still in business.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Bit off the beaten track, wasn’t it?”
“I think it was an impulse, to satisfy his curiosity. Anyway, I showed him around and get this—he even helped me with the swarm at the Vanderhoffs’. Then when I found out that Danny couldn’t help out after all—”
“Why not?”
Annie’s rehearsed script began to slip away. “He has to go to summer school. It’s not a problem, though, because Will—that’s his name, Will Jennings—was looking for temporary work in the valley. I spent most of yesterday showing him around and—”
“You saying there’s a stranger running the business? Someone we don’t know?” His voice pitched.
“Dad, trust me on this, okay? I’m a pretty good judge of character. Besides, the McLeans are just next door.”
He opened his mouth to speak just as Shirley entered the room with a man in hospital scrubs. Annie gave her a hug and whispered, “Good timing.”
Shirley glanced sharply at Jack. “I’ve had a word with his doctor in the hallway.”
The doctor—who’d nodded at Annie—was speaking in a low voice to Jack. “Woul
d you ladies mind stepping outside while I have a look at Jack’s incision?”
Once in the safety of the hall, Shirley explained. “I told the doctor that the family didn’t want Jack to rush back to work and he was in complete agreement. He also said that they detected a slight heart arrhythmia while they were prepping Jack for the surgery.”
“Arrhythmia?” Her own heart seemed to have suddenly stopped.
“It’s not serious, Annie. Just that he may have to see a cardiologist for some kind of testing.”
“Can he do that here, in Charlotte?”
Shirley nodded. “That’s what I was asking the doctor about, before we came into the room. He said he can arrange it but wants to talk to Jack first.” She paused before asking, “How did you find your father?”
As bossy as usual. Cautiously she said, “He looks tired, but he’s just as vocal as ever.”
The other woman smiled. “Well, language has always been one of his strengths.”
Minutes later the doctor called them back into the room. Before leaving, he encouraged Jack to walk as much as possible and told him that he’d be moved to the rehab center in the next couple of days. Annie kept her eyes down at this, not wanting to make eye contact with Shirley and have her father think there’d been a conspiracy at work.
There was a long silence after the doctor left. Neither of them wanted to look at Jack. He’d need a few seconds to adjust to the disappointment that he wouldn’t be heading for home right away. She and Shirley made small talk about the drive from Garden Valley and about staying with Aunt Isobel.
Finally, Jack spoke up. “That young whipper-snapper told me I have to see a cardiologist before I go home. Seems there’s some irregularity in my heart.”
“I know, Jack, but he also said as far as he could tell it was nothing to worry about.”
“What would he know? He probably just got his MD a year ago.” No one spoke. “Humph. Guess this plays right into your plans, doesn’t it?” Jack glared at Shirley.
Annie was about to protest but Shirley merely said, “Sometimes the gods look favorably on me, Jack. Just as they did when I met you.”
He seemed to melt right before Annie’s eyes. His face turned bright red and the smile he cast at Shirley was one Annie had never seen. From her dad…or anyone else. She looked with new respect at the woman who’d been dating her father for the past two years.
“I should go to Aunt Isobel’s now, so we can have a bit of a visit before dinner.” She patted her dad’s hand. “Want me to come back later, after dinner?”
“No, that’s okay. Isobel will appreciate your company. When are you going back?”
So it’s you now, instead of we. “Maybe the day after tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.” She bent to kiss him goodbye, then kissed Shirley, too. “Thanks for everything.” She squeezed the other woman’s forearm and made for the door.
Just before she reached it, Jack piped up, “Don’t forget to call home tonight. See how that fella’s doing. And get Bob McLean to go round to the place, check things out.”
Annie smiled but didn’t turn around. “Will do, Dad. See ya.”
WILL REMOVED THE LAST FRAME from the extractor and turned the spigot, allowing the viscous pale honey to flow into the stainless-steel bucket beneath. After spending an entire afternoon extracting the honey from the frames they’d collected late yesterday, he decided that the novelty of holding a fingertip beneath the spigot to catch the first globular drip was beginning to wear. A bit like working in a candy store.
The extractor spun twenty-four frames at a time and squeezed out roughly sixty pounds of honey, Annie had told him. He’d been impressed by the amount, until she also told him that the average worker bee produced only one-twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in its six-week life span. Which explained why every colony had millions of bees.
It had taken him the morning to scrape off the wax covering each of the individual cells of the honeycomb. Decapping, Annie called it. Then he’d taken a brief lunch break, using the key she’d given him to go into the house to wash up. Although she’d told him to help himself to anything in the fridge, he just poured a cold glass of water from the tap. Well-water had never tasted so good. He didn’t linger inside—it felt too weird being in someone else’s house when no one was home—but ate his sandwich sitting on the fold-down step of his camper van.
Cleaning up at the end of the day, he felt as though he had a good sense of what the job entailed. He also had a keen appreciation for what Annie and her father did. He could see why Annie was in such good physical condition. Will wondered how her father would manage all the lifting and carrying with his new hip.
Still, that was their problem. For now, he was content to hang around the apiary and soak up the tranquility. He hadn’t slept so well in weeks. In spite of his thin foam mattress, once he’d dropped off to sleep, not even a six-alarm fire could have roused him. He decided to shower at the campground and, at the same time, make sure that Sam Waters had found the note he’d left early that morning. Will had paid a week in advance, but he didn’t want Sam to think he’d suddenly up and left for no reason.
He double-checked all the locks, even though he’d be coming back to spend the night there. As he drove to the campground, he thought of Annie’s sudden change in mood at his remark about her father yesterday. He hadn’t intended to butt in, but he could understand why she might have taken offense.
Will slowed to make the turn onto the side road. He took another look at the rundown farmhouse tucked into the trees about a hundred yards or so off the road. Sure looked deserted. Suddenly he thought of the arsonist. If the guy was someone who simply liked setting fires—as many arsonists did—then this place would be the ideal target. He craned his head as he passed it, but didn’t detect any sign of life.
When he pulled onto the gravel road to Rest Haven, a Chevy Blazer was heading his way. Will shifted to the right, tapping the brake as the Blazer rolled to a stop.
“Got your note,” Waters said. “Hope you don’t want a refund ’cause—”
“I don’t,” Will interrupted. “Just didn’t want you to let my site go to someone else. I’ll only be gone for a couple of days, and I want to come back and forth here anyway, to use the facilities and for meals.”
Waters nodded. “So you’re working up at the apiary. I’m sure Annie can use the help.”
Will didn’t say anything. He hadn’t mentioned working there. Someone in the area must’ve already sent the news around. What had Annie called it? The Garden Valley Grapevine? As much as he liked his privacy, it might be a good thing if people knew he was on the apiary premises.
“Thanks for setting out the barbecue,” Will said as Waters was about to continue on his way. “I noticed it this morning. It’ll make a change from the propane stove.”
“No problem. See ya around.”
After a hot shower Will sat at the picnic table with a cold drink and wondered—not for the first time that day—how Annie was doing. He hoped she’d been successful in persuading her father to stay in Charlotte. Mainly because he’d have a reason to stick around the apiary a few more days himself.
That is, if Annie decided to keep him on. He set the empty can on the table and wearily rubbed his face. Face it, Jennings. The only thing that legitimizes staying in Garden Valley any longer would be a decent, full-time job—which means firefighting.
And he wasn’t ready for that yet. Will stood and stretched. He felt restless and no longer quite so hungry. It would be a while before dusk, so he decided to hike along the stream to check out the property.
The walk under the canopy of willows and poplars edging the stream was cool and the air redolent of marshy plant decay mixed with perfume from the tulip poplar blossoms. Shadowy outlines of fish darted in the water and a mallard family flew squawking out of the tall grasses as he passed.
He stopped once to take a few deep breaths of clean air. In spite of the day’s labor, he felt
rejuvenated. If he’d been home in Newark, relaxing after a hard day would have meant a beer in front of the television rather than going for a walk. The idea prompted a grin. Where would he walk to? Seemed as if he drove his motorcycle everywhere, even the gym. Which kind of defeated the whole purpose of going in the first place. But that’s what people did in the city. They drove, rather than walked. Unless you were into jogging and that had never appealed to him.
The sun hovered above the foothills to the west when he finally came to a clearing, or what seemed to be overgrown pasture. The remnants of an old barbed wire fence at the far end of the acreage suggested he was on private property. He hadn’t seen any farms in the area except for the abandoned place a mile or two down the road, so Will assumed this land was part of that spread. Curious, he walked across the pasture and carefully ducked under the barbed wire. Now that he was closer, he could see the back of the house and the barn with its sagging roof. He paused, wondering if he ought to be trespassing, but decided abandoned places were fair game.
The yard behind the barn was littered with empty and rusting metal objects—cans, buckets, farm implements. Part of an old harvester or combine was almost hidden by tall weeds. As Will bypassed the barn, he was struck by the earthy odor of moldering hay and paused to peer in one of the broken windows. It was dark and shadowy inside. Something fluttered from a rafter and he jumped back. Then he laughed at himself. Probably a bat or bird of some kind.
He kept on walking and, rounding the corner of the barn, stopped suddenly. There were two large chicken-wire coops filled with pigeons. Pigeons of every kind, totally unlike the ubiquitous gray ones in his Newark neighborhood. They were perched on the roofs of bird houses inside the coops and also on an arrangement of various lengths of wooden poles, nailed crudely together to form a kind of avian climbing equipment. There must be at least fifty birds in there, he was thinking, and then realized that the place was obviously not deserted.
The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 8
