Now, it’s mostly my mom and the girls holding everything together. Colby and Clementine—seventeen, wild, and still figuring out their place in the world, but they love to help out at the farmers markets.
Hazel’s got her own house on the far end of the property, tucked against the trees where nobody bothers her. She’s always preferred the animals and crops to flowers and honey.
And Gemma... she hasn’t lived here in years. Moved to North Dakota after her husband got a job up there. She visits, just not often.
Used to be more, but I’m the last person to be judging.
I pass the horse barn on my way up the hill. Two of the mares are out in the coral, flicking flies off their flanks with their tails. One of them tosses her head when she sees me, and I grin.
“Well, hey there, Dolly,” I murmur, stepping up to the fence. She’s a dapple-gray with big eyes and an attitude, but she’s old enough to know me. “You givin’ Clem hell again?”
She hooves at the dirt, tail swishing in fast snaps that make me laugh.
Next to her, a senior chestnut nudges closer, her muzzle more gray than brown.
“Hey, June Bug,” I say, running my fingers down her velvet-soft nose, whiskers catching on my calluses. “Still the prettiest girl in the bunch, huh?”
She huffs like she knows it, pushing my hand away. Cocking her head to the side, she reaches through the bars and digs for my pockets like she remembers exactly what I used to keep in them.
Chuckling, I trail my finger down the white diamond between her eyes.
“Sorry, girl. I’ll bring some sugar cubes before I leave.”
I spend a bit more time with the horses, then goats, before moving on, passing the chicken coops and barns on my way.
Surprisingly, the familiar path helps soothe my nerves. This land is in my blood—every fence post, every worn trail. I could walk it blindfolded and still find my way home.
By the time I make it to the Big House, the sun is setting and a soft breeze carries the faint hum of music. I smile before I even round the corner. My mom always listens to classical music when she’s with the bees. Swears it makes them smarter, sweeter. She says you can taste the difference in the honey. That the right song’ll have them working twice as fast, building stronger combs, and filling the frames like they’re drunk on the vibrations.
Sure enough, when I round the back of the house, I spot her in the distance by the apiary—white suit unzipped and hanging loose around her waist, veil pushed back off her short hair, bare hands moving calmly over the frames. Her mouth moves, talking to the bees in a low voice, like she’s coaxing them to behave.
The apiary’s gotten bigger since I last saw it.
Gotta be more than a thousand hives lined up in rows, each painted a different pastel color to help the bees find their way home. Wildflowers bloom in intentional chaos all around the area—purple coneflowers, black-eyed Susans, lemon mint, and bee balm.
Everything smells like sunlight and sugar. Like home. Feels better than I thought it would. Damn near cathartic.
She doesn’t see me yet, and I don’t call out. Because for the first time in a long time, I’m not in a rush to fill the space with guilt, grief, or explanations.
Right now, I just want to take it in.
The place that raised me.
The woman who never stopped loving me, even when I gave her every reason to.
After a while, she finally spots me and finishes what she’s doing before stripping off her gear as she walks toward me. She doesn’t call out until we’re close, always thinking of her bees.
“Twice in one month? What do I owe the pleasure?”
My smile falters, and my heart flips in time with my gut. I swallow hard.
God, I’m a fuckin’ dick.
“Ma…” I press my hat to my chest and rake a hand through my hair. “I gotta talk to you about something.”
“Oh, my.” She gives me a long look, then shakes her head like she’s seen this coming. “This looks like a porch talk.”
My throat burns, but when she wraps me up in a hug, some of the weight eases off my chest. She’s a foot shorter than me, her brown and silver strands catching my beard as I bend down, but a hug from her has the power to soothe even the deepest cuts.
