Tansy looked up at him. “Don’t tempt me.” The hint of mischief on her face was just enough to make him wonder what she was thinking. “Power tools and unsupervised teenagers. Not a good idea.” She pointed toward his station.
“I don’t know. Learning a little first aid and how to build a beehive would be twice as educational.” He shrugged, then sprinted down to the pavilion he’d been assigned to—her laughter ringing out.
Dane jumped right into the presentation. It was simple. He let the boys do most of the presenting, but he took apart the hive box, pulled out and held up a frame from inside, then passed around a plexiglass-encased piece of honeycomb for them to see up close.
“Each cell in that honeycomb has a purpose. Bees store honey, pollen and babies in their combs,” Leif said.
A little boy raised his hand. “My daddy said bees are mean and sting you.”
“They don’t sting unless they are protecting the hive.” Leif smiled. “They’re not mean, either. Maybe the one your dad was talking about was having a bad day.” That caused a ripple of laughter.
Dane was impressed. His little brother was working the crowd and he didn’t even know it.
“Leif, do you know what a bee uses to style their hair?” Felix asked Leif.
“No, Felix, I don’t.” Leif was smiling.
“A honeycomb, of course.” Felix held up the honeycomb and pointed at it.
Dane wasn’t the only one that groaned over the joke. A few people were laughing—but he recognized one laugh in particular. He scanned the crowd, spotting Kerrielynn standing with Tansy a little way back. They were laughing like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. And even though it was an old joke he’d heard a million times, he laughed, too.
He had it bad all right. Thinking about her, sound asleep on his chest, didn’t help.
After the school buses were gone and everything was packed up, Dane went to set up the Texas Viking Honey booth. It went a lot faster when three eager teenagers were on hand to help. Leif was in deep conversation with Kerrielynn so Dane used that as an excuse to find the Honey Hill Farms booth.
“Looks like you’re ready for tomorrow.” Dane eyed their always-impressive display. With the honeycomb wooden shelves, blue-flower-and-bee-print tablecloth, and delicate lace-trimmed burlap tags on every item—everything about it was eye-catching.
“Ready.” Astrid nodded. “What about you?”
“Nothing this fancy.” He scratched his jaw. He had a black tablecloth with the Texas Viking Honey logo on it, the same as the black labels on his honey jars. That was it.
“It’s all Astrid.” Nicole came around the table to look at it from his perspective. “She has a good eye.”
“New hair?” Dane gave Nicole’s messy bun a look.
“Nope. It’s been purple for a while.” She held out her wrist. “New ink, though.” It was an infinity sign.
“Nice.” He nodded, glancing at Tansy.
Tansy was scribbling notes on a beat-up steno pad, her lips twisted to one side and her brow furrowed in concentration.
“She’s got an idea,” Astrid murmured.
“I can see that.” Dane watched Tansy’s pencil race across the page over and over. “Must be something important.”
“No clue.” Astrid shrugged. “She’ll tell us once she’s got it all down.”
He nodded. “I guess I’ll see you ladies this evening?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Nicole said.
“You wouldn’t get all the good stuff out of the Honey Festival if you skipped the Honey Flow Dance.” Astrid glanced at Tansy, then back at him. “We will be there. All of us.”
“I’ll see you then.” He waved and headed back to his truck. Leif was inside, grinning. “You good?”
“Yep.” Leif nodded. “We’re coming back for the dance, right?”
“Yep.” Dane chuckled, instantly understanding his brother’s mood. For all his worries over things going south between Leif and Kerrielynn, it wasn’t like he could snap his fingers and end it. Besides, he wanted Leif to live and love and be young—even if it meant risking heartache.
