But the vise pressing the air from Leif’s lungs let up a little. As Leif drove them down the country road toward Texas Viking Honey, he was smiling.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’MLEAVINGFORthe Madigans’ in ten minutes.” Tansy went through her backpack, making doubly sure she had everything she’d need. The tiny town of Rose Prairie, where the Madigan family farm and beeyard was, took a good thirty minutes to reach—too far to double back if something was forgotten.
When Texas had offered an agriculture exemption for keeping bees to help with the dwindling bee population, Honey Hill Farms jumped at the opportunity. There were plenty of landowners that wanted the exemption but none of the hands-on work of beekeeping. So they paid the Hills to maintain the hives and let the Hills keep the honey—a win for the bees and the Hills.
“I’m ready.” Astrid patted the plastic hanging bag containing their beekeeping suits. “Full suits, gloves and tape.”
“Lots of tape.” Tansy nodded, smiling when Astrid dropped another roll of wide blue painter’s tape into the pocket on the front of the bag.
While the Hills primarily raised the more gentle-natured Italian bees, the Rose Prairie bees were feral, and the majority of feral Texas bees were Africanized. The upside was how adaptive these bees were to the Texas heat, resistant to mites and pests, and productive honey makers. The downside was their aggressive nature. Amongst the Texas beekeeping community, these bees were calledhot—referring to their temperament. Astrid said they were cranky but Tansy thought they were just plain mean. If one started stinging, the others followed suit and that’s why proper beekeeping gear was so important for this visit. The tape kept a bee from trying to slip in between a boot and ankle cuff, the space at the end of the zipper, or any place a bee or two might sneak in. More tape was always a good idea.
“You’re stopping by Lorna’s?” Aunt Camellia was tucking several plastic containers full of food into a brown paper shopping bag.
“After we’re done in Rose Prairie. She’s handing off the Junior Beekeepers stuff for tomorrow night’s meeting.” Everett had assured her the meetings all but ran themselves, and if that was the case, she’d be able to handle them on her own in future—without Dane Knudson’s help.
“Good. Van says Lorna’s about to pop any day now so you make sure you give her this. Just let me repack this into a cooler bag.”
“Pop?” Tansy winced. “That sounds just awful.”
“Fine.” Aunt Camellia opened the pantry and pulled out a large insulated shopping bag. “Lorna should be delivering baby Franks pretty quick.” She started stacking food containers inside. “The last thing she and Bud need to worry over is cooking and cleaning—first babies can be a challenge.”
“She must be so excited,” Astrid cooed. “I can’t wait to babysit.” Astrid loved babies and animals and bees with equal enthusiasm.
Tansy didn’t mind bees or animals but babies made her nervous. They were too small. And noisy. And fragile. “We’ll make sure she gets it.” Tansy shifted her backpack and took the packed-full insulated bag. “Don’t worry.”
She and Astrid finished loading the van and headed for the farm-to-market road that led them to the highway and Rose Prairie beyond.
“I want a baby,” Astrid announced so suddenly that Tansy almost drove off the road.
“Where did that come from?” Tansy asked, steering the van between the lines once more.
“Not now, obviously.” Astrid shook her head. “Eventually. I want lots of babies.”
“Lots?” Tansy wrinkled up her nose. “How many is lots?”
“More than two.” Astrid sighed, leaning back against her seat and hugging herself.
“Do you have someone in mind to help you make these babies?” Tansy laughed. “I guess I sort of figured you’d tell me when you found the guy you’d want to...impregnate you.”
Astrid turned a deep red as she stared at her sister. “Tansy.”
“What? It seems like a perfectly reasonable question.” She was laughing harder now.
“Impregnate me? That soundssoromantic.” But Astrid was laughing, too. “In answer to your question, no. I don’t have someone in mind. It’s not like there are a whole bunch of options in Honey. We knoweveryone.”
Tansy didn’t argue. The pool of single men in Honey was more like a puddle. A teeny-tiny puddle of men she knew too well to ever consider romantically. “I guess we’re doomed to dating apps?”
It was Astrid’s turn to wince. “Um, no. It’s all about meeting to...well, you know.”
“Hook up?” Tansy glanced at her sister. “Well, I guess you could consider it practice for when you do meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Baby-Daddy Material.”
Astrid burst out laughing again, waving her hand dismissively. “Enough of that. How about some tunes?” She leaned forward and flipped on the radio to a classic rock station.
Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” came spilling through the speakers, instantly transporting Tansy tothatday.
“Oops.” Astrid changed the station. “Sorry.”
