He resisted the urge to remind her that he had just as much knowledge and experience as she did. There was no point. It wasn’t about his beekeeping knowledge or whether or not he was of value to the club. It was entirely about her not wanting him here and him worrying over her motivation. “I gave my word to Everett and Lorna that I’d help out,” Dane grumbled, glancing at his brother. “Besides, it’ll be good for Leif.” Leif would come around. “Whether he likes it or not.”
Tansy’s laugh was soft, and it caught him so off guard that he found himself staring at her. Most of her laughter was at his expense. At the moment, she looked and sounded...sympathetic. “Leif needs this. Something good. Like friends that don’t cause trouble or get into fights.” He sucked in a deep breath. Why was he sharing with Tansy, of all people?
Tansy looked as startled as he was, but she nodded. “It’s hard being the oldest sibling. Watching them make mistakes instead of listening to your advice or asking for help? But you can’t give up.”
Dane forced his gaze from Tansy to Leif, mulling over her words. Leif didn’t want to hear a thing he said, could barely tolerate him.But I won’t give up.
She sounded almost pained as she added, “You’re a good brother, Dane.”
Dane went back to staring at her. As nice as it was, all sorts of mental red flags popped up.
“You’re really going to stick around?” She turned, looking up at him. “Do this Junior Beekeepers thing with me?” Her eyes looked emerald green underneath the fluorescent lights of the barn.
He nodded, his throat too tight to answer. Try as he might, he was having a hell of a time ignoring the hair and the shirt and the lip gloss and her sparkly earrings swaying against the long curve of her neck. She wasn’tjustsexy. She was pretty—even prettier than she had been back in high school. Thankfully, he was older and a good deal wiser. He took a deep breath, preparing to say something he’d never, ever planned to say to her. “I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if we—you and me—call a truce.”
Tansy took a deep breath but, slowly, she began to nod. “I see.”
“When it comes to anything Junior Beekeepers related, of course.” He couldn’t help but grin.
“Ofcourse.” Her eyes flashed when they met his. “I know it will be a challenge...”
The fire in her eyes had his heart tripping over itself. “Not really.Ican behave, Miss Hill.” Was he goading her? Yes. Was he enjoying it? Hell, yes.
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Knudson.” She held her hand out. “Shall we shake on it?”
He was still grinning as he took her hand and gave it a solid shake. But once she’d let go and the Junior Beekeepers meeting was called to order, Dane was no longer grinning. Each time she smiled or laughed or spoke with her hands, she made the hollow ache in his stomach harder to ignore. Worse, his palm still tingled from their brief contact. No matter how hard he rubbed his hand against his jeans, he couldn’t erase the feel of her touch.
CHAPTER SIX
THEELGINSTONSPRING& FIDDLEFESTwas always a fun event. Elginston was a tiny town twenty minutes down the road but still within Lewis County. The town had bragging rights as the birthplace of some 1930s genius bluegrass fiddler, and every May, fiddlers from far and wide came to play and compete in Fiddle Fest. It was one of Tansy’s favorite festivals because it boasted not only a wide array of handcrafted items for sale and yummy food, but world-class music, too.
Another reason she was so partial to it? The organizer always made sure to put Honey Hill Farms booth far from Texas Viking Honey—if the Knudsons even participated.
“I doubt they’ll be here,” Nicole said again, handing the last of the beeswax candles to Astrid.
“It doesn’t matter one way or the other.” Tansy stowed the cash box in the large tote by her feet, refusing to make eye contact for fear Nicole and Astrid would call her on her outright lie. Was it so wrong to wish Dane Knudson wouldn’t turn up so she wasn’t distracted for most of the day? Lorna had said Dane had grown up some but Tansy hadn’t believed it. And then the Junior Beekeepers meeting had happened. Not only had he proposed a truce, there was that moment of understanding between them. It had been one hundred percent unexpected and surprisingly nice. After all that, she needed...space.
“She and Dane have called a truce.” Astrid stepped back. “How does it look?”
But Nicole wasn’t looking at Astrid’s artful display, she was staring—open-mouthed—at Tansy. “What? When?” She blinked her sparkly eyelids—she was playing with new makeup looks to complement her new purple streaks. “How?”
“It’s the right thing to do.” Even if she’d felt unsettled ever since. “For Junior Beekeepers meetingsonly.”
“Oh.” Nicole wrinkled up her nose. “Huh. How...mature of you both.” She shrugged. “I meant to tell you, Benji had the best time. You two know I love my son more than anything, but I can’t help worrying about him—he’s all sorts of awkward. He gets it from his dad.”
Nicole and her high school sweetheart had become parents when they were barely fourteen. Even though they’d outgrown their relationship, they’d remained friends and seemed to have figured out the whole co-parenting thing. Benji Svoboda was indeed awkward, but in the most endearing way. He was quiet but eager to help and all around sweet.
“He sure knows his honey.” Tansy had a soft spot for anyone who shared her enthusiasm for bees and honey. And boy was Benji enthusiastic.
Nicole nodded. “I know. If you guys decide to hire some extra help this summer for the honey flow, Benji would probably do it for free.”
Tansy and Astrid exchanged a look. At the moment, free was just about all they could afford.
“My oh my, look at this.” Ida Popplewell inspected Astrid’s carefully arranged display. She and her husband, Waylon, owned and operated the local bakery. No matter the festival, their booth was always one of the first to sell out. Resisting one of their delectable pastries or breakfast confections was all but impossible. “It’s prettier than a picture out ofBetterHomes and GardensorSouthern Living, that’s for sure.” She smoothed the front of her croissant-and-muffin-print apron. “I was telling Corliss Ogden just the other day that you’d be a wonderful interior decorator, Astrid—if Honey Hill Farms ever closed up, that is.”
Tansy’s heart tightened. None of the Bee Girls dared air their precarious financial situation with anyone. Gossip in a small town spread like wildfire and could be just as devastating.
“Not that that will ever happen.” Ida chuckled. “You girls are just as devoted to those bees as your Poppa Tom was.”
