by Vivi Holt
“What do you think it is?” asked Bindi, with a wrinkle of her nose.
Isabella drummed her fingers on the table. “I think … I’m not sure, but I think Sam’s spraying his crops with pesticides.” As she said the words she felt more and more certain that there was something to her theory.
“You’re kidding?” exclaimed Kim. “I remember seeing a contract between his folks and yours not to use anything like that. It’s supposed to be all organic, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” Isabella ordered a lemon-lime and bitters from the waitress, then turned back to the group.
“What can you do about it?” asked Meg as she handed Evie a container of crackers from her purse. The little girl grabbed it with delight and began working on getting the lid off.
“Well, I was thinking I might move the hives to the other side of the property – that should be far enough away for them to recover. And if they recover, then I’ll know.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Kim.
They took a break from the conversation to order lunch. Isabella chose a chicken Caesar salad, then pulled her mother’s journal from her purse and set it on the table.
“What’s that?” asked Kim, studying the notebook.
“A journal I found in Mum’s desk.”
All three of the women eyed the notebook with interest. “What’s it say?” asked Meg, an eyebrow arched high.
“Well, in it she talks about Sam taking over his parents’ farm and her misgivings about it. But mostly, she talks about her hopes, dreams, family and … God.” Isabella paused, taking in Kim and Bindi’s surprised expressions and Meg’s warm smile. “She said she’d been searching for meaning, value and an understanding of her purpose. She found God, and He gave her all that.”
Meg nodded as the waitress set appetizers in front of them, interrupting their conversation. “And what do you think of that?” asked Meg after the server left.
“I’m not sure. That’s what I wanted to ask you guys about. I mean, I’ve always wondered if there was something more – a purpose for me, a reason for my existence. And now I know Mum had the same kinds of longings. Does everyone feel that way?”
Kim and Bindi exchanged a look, then nodded tentatively.
Meg chuckled. “Of course everyone feels it. It’s called ‘the human condition’ for a reason. God created us with that longing inside us so we would seek Him out. It’s not just a coincidence that without Him, people spend their whole lives searching for unconditional love, belonging, community and a sense of worth or purpose.”
The women ate quietly for a minute. Then Kim spoke up. “What about Baker – did you ask him about it? Seems like he’d be the right person to answer questions about God.” She grinned at the same time, and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“What?” Bindi squealed. “Baker and Issie? How come I didn’t know about this?”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to know. Not really. Actually, I’m not sure …”
Kim grabbed Isabella’s hands and bobbed up and down in her chair. “Ohhh …tell us everything!”
Evie threw her container of crackers on the floor and they shattered, tiny pieces skidding across the hardwood and disappearing beneath chairs and tables. Meg, horrified, quickly reached to pick up what she could. Other customers looked on with sympathy.
Finally Kim set Evie up with some carrot sticks and returned her attention to Isabella, who was pulling faces to make the little girl laugh. “Well, I think the two of you would be great together.”
“Yeah, he seems really nice.” Kim took a sip of soda. “And he’s pretty attractive, I have to say.”
“I don’t know …” Isabella rubbed her face, unable to calm the butterflies that rose in her stomach whenever Baker’s name came up or his face flitted across her mind’s eye.
She couldn’t help worrying about diving into a relationship with him, if that was even what was happening. They hadn’t really talked about it yet, so she couldn’t be sure. And she’d just ended things with Simon, though she had to admit she’d done it in a way she wasn’t proud of. If she was going to date again, she wanted things to be different this time. She wanted it to be healthy. Real. With someone who really cared about her.
And maybe that’s what he wanted too. But they still didn’t suit each other – him a church pastor and father to two girls; her a hopeless, unemployed atheist.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bindi.
“We’re so … different.”
“Opposites attract,” replied Bindi with a grin.
9
20 December
Isabella tore open the giant caramel Kit Kat bar’s wrapper and took an enormous bite. She chewed glumly, then continued down the aisle of the grocery store, her basket hanging on her arm.
She was shopping for Christmas dinner, but didn’t have a clue what to purchase. She’d never eaten her Christmas meal alone before. She wasn’t entirely sure she should bother cooking – what could you cook for one person? Perhaps she should just order take-away from the local Chinese restaurant – from what she remembered, they were open on Christmas day. She and her parents had done just that one year after a particularly disastrous turkey incident.
She grabbed a packet of stuffing and took another bite of Kit Kat. She was certain she’d gained about five kilograms since she’d returned to Heartstone. She should get back to running, or at least cut down on the candy. She grimaced and took another bite, her teeth getting stuck in the caramel as she read the ingredients list on the back of the stuffing packet.
“Hey, Issie.”
Baker’s deep voice behind her made her spin around, even as she was still working through the chocolate and caramel. She swallowed hard behind a closed-lipped smile. “Baker. How are you? Hi, Abi, hello, Rose – you two look so pretty.”
The girls smiled shyly at her from behind the shopping trolley in their matching Christmas T-shirts.
She glanced into Baker’s cart and noticed it was full of fresh produce, a whole turkey and various sodas. “Stocking up for Christmas?” She hadn’t seen him since their kiss on his back porch. He’d been busy with church and family commitments … and she’d been avoiding him. He’d called her a few times, but she’d studiously avoided answering the phone, only calling him back when she knew he wouldn’t be able to answer so she could leave him a vague message.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him – she just didn’t know how she felt about him. She liked him, probably more than she was willing to admit. But they were such different people – he thought he wanted a relationship now, but she knew that would change once he spent more time with her. And she didn’t want to risk falling for him only to be hurt later on. She was sure that would happen – it just didn’t make sense that someone like him would love someone like her.
Abi and Rose began grabbing random groceries and dropping them with giggles of delight into the trolley. Baker shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked up at her beneath a curl of blonde hair, a half-grin on his face. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Her cheeks burned as she felt his eyes on her. He seemed curious, or concerned, she couldn’t say which. “No, not really.” She scuffed the toe of her shoe against the tile floor, making it squeak.
“Yeah, you have. It’s okay, I understand.” He combed the curl back off his forehead.
“You do? That’s great, because I’m not sure I do,” said Isabella with a sigh.
He frowned. “You’re still grieving. I get it. And you think we don’t have anything in common. You’re wrong about that, but I’m not going to push you on it.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “You’re not?”
“Nope. I’ve loved you a long time, Issie Proctor – I can wait a bit longer. And when you realize we’re perfect for each other, I’ll be here.” He took a few steps past her, then turned with a grin. “Would you like to come to my place for lunch today?”
She laughed. “That sounds wo
nderful, thank you, I’d love to. Otherwise, I’d be reduced to eating …” She glanced at her basket. “… instant macaroni and cheese or something.”
“Just come over whenever you’re ready. I’d better find the girls before they destroy something.” He nodded and hurried down the aisle.
“Should I bring anything?” she called after him.
“Just your beautiful self,” he replied with a wave over his shoulder.
Isabella tucked the bottle of Riesling beneath her arm, knocked on the sturdy wooden double door and it nudged open at her touch. “Come on in!” Baker called from the kitchen.
She stepped inside and pulled off her flats, lining them up beside Baker’s boots and the girls’ dainty slippers. She followed the high-pitched giggles to find Baker and the girls piling a large platter with sandwich fillings. A basket of rolls sat on the long dining table along with crystal glasses filled with ice. “Hello there,” she said, setting the wine on the countertop.
He came over to greet her, wrapping his long arms around her in a tender embrace. The kiss on her cheek was warm and gentle, and she felt a buzz of electricity between them. “Thank you for having me,” she whispered against his stubbly cheek.
He nodded. “So I think everything is just about ready – isn’t it girls?” he said jovially.
“Yep!” replied Abi, picking up the platter and balancing it precariously on one hand like a waiter in an old movie.
“Whoa, let me take that!” Baker lifted it from Abi’s hand with a chuckle. “Thanks, sweetie. You can grab the plates, please.”
“What can I do?” asked Isabella, twisting her hands together.
He winked and laid the platter in the centre of the table. “There’s a corkscrew in the second drawer if you’d like to open the wine.”
Isabella foraged in the drawer, found the utensil and popped the wine open, then set the bottle on the table and took a seat beside Rose, across from Baker. Rose gazed up at her and grinned, then held out a hand to her. She took it with a puzzled frown, and Rose bowed her head and closed her eyes.
A tap on her other shoulder. Abi took that hand and also bowed her head. Isabella glanced up at Baker in surprise.
He smiled and closed his eyes as well. “Heavenly Father, thank You for this food, and that Issie could come and share it with us. Please bless it to us and us to Your service. Amen.” His blue eyes blinked opened and caught Isabella’s gaze still on him.
She should have known they’d say grace – she’d just been caught off guard. Her family had never done that, so it wasn’t a ritual she was used to, but there was something warm and endearing about it. She found herself even more attracted to Baker than she’d been before. His quiet strength was appealing in a way she couldn’t believe she’d never noticed before. She helped herself to the food and poured wine for Baker and herself.
The easy conversation that flowed between the four of them warmed her heart and filled up the empty space that had been carved into her by her job and the accident. It felt good to be part of a family, even for only one meal – to be part of a simple conversation, laughter and fun. No talk of grieving, death, funerals or inheritance, no mention of dying bees or taxes. She relaxed and ate and sipped wine as the warmth flooded her. And all the while, she watched Baker’s loving and attentive interaction with his daughters.
He caught her watching him, and for a moment there was nothing but the two of them. He didn’t look away, and crinkles formed around his eyes. It was as though he could see right into her soul – and didn’t mind what he saw. Her pulse raced.
“You should come over for Christmas dinner,” he said suddenly, his gaze unwavering.
Her cheeks flushed. “Really? Don’t you want to have Christmas with your family?”
“They’ll all be here. Meg and Dave will be here too, with little Evie. And I’d really like you to come as well.”
She took a sip of wine. “Okay, then, I’d love to join you. Thanks.”
“Good.” He grinned and took a bite of sandwich.
“I’ll bring my famous mac and cheese,” she added with a chuckle.
“Sounds perfect.” His gaze lit a fire deep inside her and she knew it was too late to fret about her heart getting broken. She’d already fallen for him, and each moment she spent with him only made her like him more.
22 December
Isabella tugged on the gumboots and stood, stretching her arms over her head with a yawn. Hector bounded about her feet, full of life and energy, and she studied him with a wry smile. “How do you wake up like that every day? You’re just ready to go, huh?” She squinted into the golden light that had begun to glow on the horizon. She knew it would soon be too hot to work outside, so time was of the essence.
Baker’s truck pulled up in front of the house, a trail of dust behind it swept away by the breeze. He stepped out and shoved a cowboy hat on his head with a grin. “You ready to get to work?”
She nodded. “I am, but are you? Do you think this time you could try to avoid being stung by the entire swarm of bees?” With a laugh, she put on her own straw hat.
When he reached her, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. Even that was enough to play havoc with her emotions, not to mention her tingling skin and racing pulse. Then his lips found hers and she gasped against them.
“Hello,” he whispered into her hair afterward.
She wobbled a little, then righted herself with a hand on the porch railing. “Hello yourself.”
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, but the girls were with us the whole time the other day. So …” He grinned.
She took a quick breath and stepped back, pressing herself against the railing. “I see … well, we should get started moving those hives. Thanks for offering to help – it would have taken me ages on my own.”
He put his hands on his hips and leaned toward her, closing the distance she’d created between them, but she quickly ducked past him. “Let’s go then,” he chuckled behind her.
She shook her head as she led Baker to the barn. Her old utility vehicle was parked there, the keys hidden above the visor. She banged on the side of the ute’s bed and Hector leaped up in a single stride, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. She climbed in the driver’s side and Baker the passenger side, gripping tight to the handhold, his knuckles white. With a chuckle, she started the engine and flicked on the headlights, illuminating the yard in front of them. Two sets of horse’s eyes glowed back at them in the pre-dawn darkness. “Scared?” she teased.
He lifted one dark eyebrow. “I remember what you drove like as a teenager.”
She revved the engine. “That was a long time ago.”
He nodded, but didn’t relax.
With a laugh, she stepped on the accelerator and the ute shot forward, bounding over hillocks and tussocks, jostling them both about in the cab. Hector, used to her driving, scampered from side to side to look out at the pastures as they rolled along.
When she pulled to a stop close to the beehives, Baker’s face was pinched and white and he had a hand braced against the dashboard. “You okay?” she questioned.
“Fine,” he grumbled.
She climbed out and strode over to the shed, using a flashlight to find her way. It was a movable structure, and she planned to carry the shed and everything in it over to the new location after they’d moved the hives. She’d sealed off the hive entrances with duct tape three nights earlier in preparation for the move, had checked on them and made sure they had access to water every day since. Now all that was left to do was to physically move it all.
With a glance she checked that everything was in order in the shed, then made her way over to the hives. Hopefully the bees were ready to reset their internal GPS after three days shut in the dark. When they emerged in their new location, they wouldn’t be so disoriented.
Baker met her beside the boxes, pulling on gloves. “So what should we do first?”
She frowned. She was nervous abo
ut the relocation – she’d seen her father do it before, but had never done it herself, and hoped she hadn’t forgotten an important step. Moving a hive could be disastrous for the colony if done incorrectly. But leaving them there could be just as damaging, given how badly they were suffering. It was their best chance for survival.
“Well, I guess we just lift them onto the truck. They’re all snug inside the hives, so there’s not really anything else for us to do. It will take us a few trips to get them all across. Then we have to take the shed and supplies over, since I’d prefer they were close to the colony.” She paused to draw a shaky breath. “Let’s do it.”
The move wasn’t complicated, but it was hard work. The hives were heavy and there were two dozen of them dotted around the pasture. By the time they were done, the sun was completely up and both Baker and Isabella were bathed in sweat.
They settled the hives on their stands and sprayed them with water to give the bees something to drink as soon as they were released. Isabella pulled the duct tape away from the entrances one at a time, and she and Baker stood back and watched bees make their way out – tentatively at first, but soon emerging in a stream of buzzing wings and busy investigations. She glanced at Baker, his arms crossed over his sweat-dampened chest, his face lit up by an enormous grin.
He met her gaze and stepped closer to rest an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her closer and she tucked herself into the space beneath his arm. “So what do you think? Will it work?” His eyes locked with hers and he lifted an eyebrow.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see if they can find their way back. But it should work. The problem is, my main buyer has been calling to ask when I can get them the next honey shipment – I’m overdue, and they’re threatening to find another supplier if I can’t come through soon. I’ve managed to stall them a while, but I don’t know how much more time they’ll give me. So these little fellas really have to recover quickly and get producing.”
