Dane came back with a bright white flashlight. “No lights out there—careful.” He sighed, the beam of the flashlight landing on a pile of fertilizer bags stacked right in their path. “Those were supposed to have been stored in the shed.” He helped them over the bags and headed down a rock path.
“Have you started building the cabins yet?” Astrid asked, following close behind him.
“No. Phase one is the hall. Phase two, the cabins.” Dane shrugged. “I’m still taking construction bids so I don’t think they’ll be done before next spring.” He paused. “Over there is the closest apiary.” He flashed the beam at the rows of bee boxes—stark white in the flashlight. “So far, there’s been no issues with the bees or the construction team.”
“Good to know you’ve talked to the bees about it.” Tansy sighed.
Dane chuckled. “My bee isn’t as fluent as yours or Astrid’s but I didn’t hear any complaints or pick up on any resistance.”
Tansy sighed again.
They walked on in silence for a few minutes, following the beam of the flashlight. Overhead, the sky was clear enough to see a million stars but the farther into the trees they got, the more reliant they were on their single flashlight. He led them through a grove of oak trees and around the remnant of a stone wall.
“You said you had a plan for traffic?” Tansy reminded him. “Why do we not need to worry?”
“A shuttle. I’ll have a lot on the edge of the street. An electric shuttle, meaning environmentally friendly, will pick up guests and deliver them back to their cars.” He glanced at her. “What? No argument?”
Tansy laughed, she couldn’t help it. “I’m working on it.” But, really, it was a great idea. He really had thought this through.
Astrid giggled. “You two are...fun.”
“You sure you want to do this?” Dane shined his flashlight at their heels. “I don’t have any lights strung up down there so there’s not much to see.”
“We’re fine.” Tansy paused to pull off her heels. “See?” He was making a valid point. Why was she pushing back?Because he’s Dane and that’s what I do.She’d need to work on that.
Dane shook his head. “It wasn’t a challenge.” He turned his flashlight beam.
“We’re already out here.” Astrid, love her, was trying to be supportive of Tansy.
“Less than halfway there.” Dane paused.
“It is late.” Tansy grabbed Astrid’s hand and gave her a squeeze. “I guess we can come back.”
“After the Honey Festival.” Astrid squeezed back. “Things will be too chaotic until it’s all done and over.”
By then, the honey contest would be over. If they lost, Dane’s expansion wouldn’t matter so much to Tansy’s family. Honey Hill Farms would be no more.
“Monday morning sound good?” He turned, the three of them walking back along the path. “I can make some coffee. Not good coffee, but fortifying.” His laugh cut short. “Do you see...” Dane swung the flashlight down, the beam hitting the ground at their feet.
For a second, Tansy thought he’d spotted a snake or skunk or some other night critter. But there was a movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned, her heart stuttering to a stop.
“Is that...” Astrid’s voice broke. “Fire? It’s a fire.”
Dane was already running, the flashlight beam swinging in time with his long stride as he sprinted toward the rising flames.
Tansy had her phone out and dialed 911. “There’s a fire at Viking Honey. You’ll see it from the road. Please hurry.” She disconnected, turned on the phone’s flashlight, and she and Astrid started running, too.
Fire was never a good thing. And in the country it could be cataclysmic. It would take precious minutes before their volunteer fire department rallied. If there was a way to contain the fire, they had to try.
When she and Astrid reached the clearing, the Viking Hall was a roaring blaze and the smoke billowing up was choking out the stars overhead. Tansy didn’t stop, she ran to the van and opened the back doors, rifling through their gear. She grabbed their rubber boots, a shovel and a metal-lined hive roof.
“Here.” Tansy handed Astrid her boots and the shovel, tugged on her own boots and tucked the hive roof under her arm.
Dane had started soaking the ground between the building and the construction material so she and Astrid went to the other side. Astrid started digging while Tansy used the hive roof to break up the ground cover—forming a bit of a firebreak. If there was no fuel to burn, maybe they could slow or stop the spread.
Tansy wasn’t sure how long they worked. She was dripping sweat and coughing ash and her eyes were dry and raw, but stopping wasn’t an option. All they could do was focus on the task at hand. The fire kept growing, snapping and crackling and devouring everything in its path.
The dent she and Astrid managed to make didn’t do much. The fire singed the grass black and sent sparks flying—to land and catch and burn in an ever-widening radius.
