“Those Bee Girls, always ready and willing to help.” Libby watched as Tansy and Dane left. “Growing up, I always wanted to be one of them. They have such a loving family—so close. Kate and I... Well, you know all about our family.” She sighed and pulled her long blond hair over one shoulder. “But Rosemary has never liked me. Back in school, no matter what I tried to do to draw her out of her shell or put a smile on her mouth, she went out of her way to avoid me. Kind of like tonight.”
He was surprised to hear this. Rosebud had been super shy and on the awkward side in high school. And he couldn’t remember Rosebud having a negative word to say about anyone. Ever. And tonight, she’d been upset over something to do with the annual beekeeper’s convention.Ifshe’d avoided Libby, that was probably why. “Maybe now things can be different.”
“How’s that?” Libby asked, plucking an invisible something from her sweater—her very tight, curve-hugging sweater.
“I offered Rosebud... Rosemary the job. Lorna’s job.” He shrugged. “If she takes it, it means you’ll be working with her every once in a while. Might give you two a chance at friendship.”
Libby’s face lit up. “She’s staying? Oh, howfun. I bet she’ll take the job. She just adores you.”
He frowned. “We’ve always been friends.”
“Exactly. You’ve always been special friends.” She put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Oh, I hope she takes the job. You know how hard I’ve been trying to get away from all that negative talk and gossip. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve learned from them. I’d love to try again with Rosemary. I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends in no time.”
Everett was heartened by Libby’s enthusiasm, but felt the need to caution her. “She hasn’t said yes.”
“Oh, fingers crossed. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” She patted his chest. “I’m going to call it a night, boss. You should get some rest, too. You’ll doubtless be heading off more phone calls and emails from the rest of the single ladies in the Hill Country.”
He frowned. “Right.” Some of the emails he’d received werenotokay. He’d quickly learned not to open any email attachments, too. “Night. And thanks for the hard work.” He took the clipboard she offered before she left.
As tired as he was, a quick inventory of the sign-up sheet was rewarding. His instincts were right—most of Honey would do what it took to keep their small town safe.
And if he was right about that, then maybe he’d be right about Rosebud. She’d said she needed something to do—a way to connect with her hometown and feel useful again. This job would do that, and then some. Libby being excited about working with Rosebud was the icing on the cake. After all, having a team that worked well together would make it feel less like work. As far as Everett was concerned, it was a win-win.
CHAPTER FOUR
“IALMOSTFORGOThow pretty our hives are.” Rosemary sat on the edge of the Lavender-Blue bee yard, her sketch pad on her lap. Every hive box in the apiary was painted a different shade of lavender or blue with hand-painted whimsical accents like a shower of stars, blowing dandelion wisps, or snowflakes falling.
“Really?” Astrid put her hands on her hips. “That’s sad.”
It was sad. But she’d learned early on that thinking about home made her homesick—which was counterproductive. Her whole life, she’d been told she was meant to do big things. Poppa Tom, her grandfather, said it was her mission to use every bit of her smarts to make the world a more bee-friendly, bee-focused place. Her grandmother and the aunts had agreed.
Her sisters were her biggest cheerleaders. If she applied for an accelerated summer program, they’d help her pack. If she took extra college hours, they’d help her study. She was always going and doing—always. If there was an hour of unscheduled time in her day, she’d find a use for it. She was single-minded in her pursuit to achieve more and more. She never thought to slow down or consider her choices or how she wanted her future to look. It was no wonder she had her doctorate in entomology by the age of twenty-four.
Getting in to the UC Davis program had been an honor. That was it—the start of her mission. She’d hit the ground running, working hard and contributing as much as she could toward the research study—until it was gone.
She glanced down at the bees she’d sketched out. Four little bees climbing up the side of the star-speckled hive box, wearing daisy crowns—like Astrid liked to make—and sweet smiles. Technically, bees didn’t smile or wear daisy crowns, but she wanted her story for Bea to have equal parts whimsy and facts.
“Can I see?” Astrid asked, sitting on the ground beside her. “Oh, Rosemary.” She rested her head on her shoulder. “They are precious.”
“You think so?” She ran her finger along the edge of the beehive, smearing the thick line and softening the whole image. “That’s better.”
It helped that Honey Hill bees were gentle enough for her to work without protective gear. Being up close to the creatures she’d dedicated her life to was giving her all sorts of inspiration for her storybook. The tickle of tiny bee feet as a worker bee crawled along her arm. The whisper of fluttering wings when one flew by her ear. The up-close view of a bee—unobscured by mesh or net.
She could see every tiny hair that covered a bee’s body. And the way they moved. So busy. Always going. The way they used their front legs to push the collected pollen to their hind legs and stored it all in the dense hair structure that acted as the pollen baskets.
The variation in pollen was just as dramatic as each bee. Some bee pollen baskets were vibrant yellow. Others looked like tiny tangerines. The color of the pollen showed where the bee had gone foraging—and would impact the flavor of the honey they’d eventually harvest. Since their hives were placed by the lavender fields, the pollen was muted and dark and perfect for the earthy lavender-flavored honey it would produce.
“I didn’t forget about our hives.” Rosemary stared out over the bee yard. “It was a self-defense mechanism. If I thought about being here, it was hard to remember why I was there.”
“I can imagine.” Astrid lifted her head and looked at her. “Actually, I can’t imagine leaving. Everything I love is here. Now that you’re back, everyone I love is here.” She rested her head on her shoulder again. “I know it’s selfish and you’ve been through a lot, but... I’m so happy you’re home.”
Astrid was a gentle soul with a huge heart. She had the ability to be both wise and empathetic—and not just with the bees. And she was so easy to love. Maybe that’s why the bees talked to her. Not talking as in human words, but communicating nonetheless. Poppa Tom said Astrid was a bee whisperer. And since there was no proof to the contrary and plenty of proof to support his claim, no one questioned it.
“Have you made up your mind about going to the convention?” Astrid stood and wiped her hands on the apron she wore. “Part of me thinks you should go just to sock the guy in the nose.” She mimicked the action, her expression determined. “Heck, I want to. Maybe I should go.”
“While I appreciate the support—” Rosemary laughed “—you’re a mother now, you can’t go around socking people in the nose, Astrid.”
“Um, the whole mama bear thing is real. And Nova and Halley would totally support my decision. Charlie would... Well, he might prefer it if I handle things a bit more diplomatically, but he’d still support me.” She smiled. “He does that. Always.”
