“Oh dear, what?” Mags met her sister’s gaze in the mirror.

  “I’m a bit poofy, don’t you think?” Camellia pointed at the rather large bump on the top of her head. “I knew better than to put a roller there. What was I thinking?”

  Mags pressed against the curl but it popped back up. “You’ll be wearing a flower circlet, Camellia.”

  “It looks like a tidal wave. Cresting. Right there.” She poked the curl, which wiggled in a rather wave-like fashion.

  Mags giggled. “I’m sorry.” She covered her mouth.

  But Camellia started giggling, too, making the curl bounce and shimmy—which had them both laughing even harder.

  “What did we miss?” Astrid, along with the rest of them, were watching them.

  “My hair.” Camellia poked the curl again, swallowing back another giggle. “It’s horrible.”

  But an hour later, Mags had managed to tame the curl, helped Camellia slip into her vintage lace garden-party wedding dress, and made sure her sister felt and looked every bit the glowing bride she was. Mags could hardly wait to see Van’s reaction.

  Since the wisteria was in full bloom, Camellia had decided to embrace the color and beauty that surrounded them for her celebration. The nieces and Shelby wore matching tea-length cream dresses covered in an elegant wisteria print. Nova, Halley and Bea wore solid pale lavender dresses. Mags, the maid of honor, wore a plum colored tea-length dress with a low V-neck and wide shoulders straps of the same color. All of them wore the same flower circlets in their hair with long thin plum and lavender ribbons hanging down their backs.

  “Pictures.” Shelby scooped Bea up. “You smile for Auntie Camellia.”

  Bea nodded and clapped her hands.

  “Good girl.” Shelby patted Bea’s back, glancing Mags’s way. “Do you want to go to your Mimi?”

  Bea leaned forward with outstretched arms. And Mags’s heart melted. “You know I’ll never pass up a chance to cuddle my baby bee.” She rested Bea on her hip, loving the baby girl’s smile and the way she rested her head on Mags’s shoulder. “You can cuddle Mimi any time you want.” She pressed a kiss to the top of the baby girl’s head.

  “Let’s go.” Astrid held open Camellia’s bedroom door and waved them outside. “The photographer wanted to get a few bridal party pictures before the wedding.”

  “Van isn’t here.” Mags was quick to assure Camellia, bouncing Bea on her hip. “He’s just as superstitious as you are.” That was something else Mags appreciated about her soon-to-be brother-in-law. He, like Camellia, wanted this to last. If it meant not seeing one another for twenty-four hours before the wedding, so be it. It was no small sacrifice considering her sister and Van hadn’t been apart for that length of time since their first date.

  They took the hall, went down the wooden stairs—the swish of skirts and excited whispers of the younger girls pulling Mags back in time.

  Young Mags and an even younger Camellia had loved playing dress up in the attic, where Great Grandma Hill’s clothes were stored. Great Grandma Sybil Hill may have been a beekeeper’s wife, but she’d been socialite Sybil Graham from Boston first. According to their father, Sybil had met Norman Hill at the Texas State Fair and never went back to Boston. She had, however, insisted on having all of her fancy things brought to her. For the girls, Great Grandma Sybil’s things were a glimpse into another world. So many full skirts, evening gowns, petticoats, big sparkly broaches and beaded necklaces, and fancy hats. Camellia and Mags would spend hours going through the steamer trunks. From ballerina slippers to an elegant tea set to fancy evening wear and elbow length gloves, there was always a new adventure to have or imaginary world to visit.

  There were no elbow length gloves or ballerina slippers in use today. Today was the start of a brand-new adventure for Camellia.

  “Mimi.” Bea pressed her hand to Mags’s cheek.

  “Yes, baby bee?” She smiled, giving her granddaughter a bunny-nose rub. “I was just thinking of how much fun we’ll have when you’re a little older.”

  Bea smiled widely.

  “You and I will have all sorts of adventures together.” She made a silly face and Bea’s laughter rang out.

  For the first fifty years of her life, Mags had waged war against wrinkles. She’d managed to train her facial features to maintain a somewhat blank, therefore wrinkleless, expression. But having her daughter and granddaughter restored to her changed everything. With Shelby and Bea here, smiling and laughing and making silly faces had become a regular part of her daily life. If she was going to wind up with wrinkles, she couldn’t think of a better way to earn them.

  “Charlie said the photographer is setting up outside.” Astrid led the way, holding Nova’s hand while the little girl skipped along beside her.

  Mags shifted Bea to her other hip, then paused at one of the dozens of yellow blooming lantana buds to show Bea a butterfly. “Butterfly,” Mags said. “Isn’t he pretty. He’s like the bees. Collecting pollen.”

  Bea nodded as if she understood every word.

  Rosemary and Halley walked past them, in deep conversation. Halley was a curious child—she questioned everything.

  “You work in a bee research lab in California?” Halley asked Rosemary. “My mom was a researcher, too. Only she studied atmospheric sciences and astronomy.”

  “That sounds fascinating.” Rosemary slowed her pace to match Halley’s.

  “It was. It is. I want to be like her, someday.” Halley reached up to straighten the floral circlet on her head. “We have telescopes all over the place so I practice a lot.”

  “That’s the best way to become an expert. Practice and making mistakes. No one likes to mess up, but sometimes it’s the most effective teaching tool.” Rosemary stopped to help adjust the pin in Halley’s hair.

  “Thank you. I never thought about it that way. You can come look through one of our telescopes, if you want?” Halley waited.

  “I’d love to. I’ve always been curious about space and stars—especially black holes.” Rosemary’s voice lowered. “I remember watching a scary movie I wasn’t supposed to, when I was younger, that had a black hole in it. It sucked up spaceships like a vacuum. I’ve always wondered if that’s how they work.”

  Mags bounced Bea. “Your Auntie Rosemary’s brain never stops working, Bea. She and Halley should get along just fine.”

  “Blah-uh.” Bea paused, then babbled some more and waved her hands around for emphasis.

  “You don’t say?” Mags was certain Bea was saying something in all her gibberish. Likely, something genius because Bea was, of course, a prodigy. “What else?”

  “Dog.” Bea pointed. “Dog dog. Mimi.”

  “Yes.” Mags glanced at the herd of dogs Camellia had brought into their home through the years. She couldn’t be sure, but she suspected Camellia had added another one—or two—when Mags wasn’t paying attention. “Lots and lots of dogs.” And beside the dogs, walking toward her, was Shelby and a rather well-dressed man. “I bet that’s our photographer, Bea.”

  “Mags.” Shelby fidgeted, clasping and unclasping her hands. She was nervous? Her gaze darted to the man, then to Bea, then back to Mags.

  “Momma.” Bea leaned forward for her mother.

  “Hi, baby bee.” Shelby took her daughter from Mags, facing her outward so Bea could see everything.

  Bea clapped her hands with glee and said, “Hi.”

  “Hi, Beatrix.” The man waved at Bea. From the look on his face, he was no stranger. He was looking at Bea with pure adoration.

  Mags had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Who was he? Surely, he wasn’t Bea’s father? Shelby never talked about him. But this man was Mags’s age, at least. Slightly older.

  “Mags, this is my father, Roman Dunholm.” Shelby smiled up at the man by her side.

  Her initial reaction was to grab Bea, take Shelby’s hand and run into the house... But that was ridiculous. Shelby was a grown adult, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Shelby hadn’t mentioned his visit or any changes in their current living situation. She had to hope this man’s arrival was because he was missing Shelby and Bea, not that he was taking Shelby and Bea back with him.

  “Mr. Dunholm.” She held her hand out. Breathe. Stay calm.

  “Miss Hill.” He shook her hand, his gaze locking with hers. “Finally, we meet.”

  He was curious about her, his dark eyes returning to her again and again. She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. She knew nothing about the man who’d adopted her daughter—except what Shelby had told her. He was the one who’d read Shelby bedtime stories, kissed her scrapes and bruises away, watched her first steps and watched her walk the graduation stage. He’d been with Shelby every step of the way. Shelby was a delight, and Mags gave him partial credit for that and was grateful to him.

  But Roman Dunholm was also the one who’d been against Shelby’s search for her birth mother. Now that he was done with his inspection, Mags felt it was within her rights to use her most intimidating expression as she sized the man up.

  Mr. Dunholm was shorter than her by an inch. He was trim and fit—he seemed to take care of himself. He had thick black and silver hair, a close-cropped salt-and-pepper beard and mustache, and was impeccably dressed. From his wire-rimmed glasses, starched coffee-colored slacks, a white button-up shirt, to his casual leather lace up shoes, he was well put together.

  “I picked a bad day to visit.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “It looks like some sort of celebration?”

  “My sister is getting married.” She turned, waving at the preparations all around them.

  Dane, Tansy’s beau, and his little brother, Leif, were stringing up strand after strand of white fairy lights. They’d already secured the crystal chandelier over the dance floor for the reception. Charlie, Astrid’s husband, was straightening the rows of white wooden folding chairs. Nicole Svoboda, a friend of Astrid, Tansy and Rosemary, was placing flower arrangements beside the honeysuckle wrapped arch and around the dance floor. Mags paused, her gaze bouncing back to Nicole. My goodness. Nicole, normally one to sport outrageous makeup and hair color and display her tattoos, wore a simple blue sundress and muted makeup. Mags adored the added pale lavender streaks Nicole had added to light brown hair. She looked lovely.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Roman scratched his chin. “It’s something.”

  What did that mean?

  “It’s just like you described.” Roman’s gaze swept over the family home before he turned to Shelby, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Shelby asked. “I can’t quite explain it, Dad. It’s like... I fit here. I belong. I’ve never felt so... Well, this is home.”

  Mags saw Roman’s smile falter and felt a twinge of sympathy. He’d been a good father to Shelby and now his daughter was referring to Honey Hill Farms as her home.

  “And the bees. Oh, you have to meet them.” Shelby sighed. “It’s crazy, really, how amazing these little creatures are. I’ve learned so much—”

  “Aunt Mags?” Astrid called out. “Shelby?” She waved them over.

  “Picture time.” Shelby shrugged. “For the bridal party.”

  Roman gave Shelby’s shoulder a squeeze before letting her go.

  As much as Mags wanted to ignore the disappointment on the man’s face, she couldn’t. He adjusted the wire glasses on his nose. “I should probably go—”

  “You are welcome to stay.” Mags couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth. “I’m sure Shelby would like having you here. There’s plenty of room and you’ll have more of a chance to get to know Shelby’s other family.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “I couldn’t impose—”

  “It’s no imposition.” Mags held out her hands and took Bea. “You get to come to Mimi.”

  “Mimi!” Bea squealed, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.

  “My goodness.” Mags laughed, carrying Bea to the bridal party patiently waiting on them. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. The photographer is taking pics of Aunt Camellia alone first, anyway.” Rosemary gestured with her bouquet.

  Sure enough, Camellia stood before an explosion of wisteria smiling sweetly at the photographer.

  “Who is that man?” Astrid asked, fanning herself, staring pointedly at Roman.

  “He looks like that actor. In all the reruns of that show?” Nicole had joined the group and was glancing across the field at Roman like the rest of them. “You know the one? It was funny. Steve Carell? On television. Not young Steve Carell. Older, silver fox Steve Carell.”

  “Who’s that?” Mags didn’t watch television.

  “Never mind.” Tansy waved the question aside. “Who is he, really?”

  “His name is Roman Dunholm.” Mags bounced Bea as she spoke. “He’s Shelby’s adoptive father.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  THERE WAS MOMENT of absolute silence—as if her announcement had stupefied them. Which was exactly how she’d felt as Shelby had made the introductions.

  “I’m sorry? Who?” Tansy’s brows rose.

  Nicole was still staring at the man with interest. “Was she expecting him?”

  “I don’t think so. If she was, she’d never mentioned it to me.” Mags felt certain Shelby would have told her. “I think he wanted to surprise her.”

  “Well... What... Is he staying?” Astrid was studying the man in question.

  “I’m sorry, I’m still processing how good looking he is.” Nicole fanned herself. “I never thought I was into older guys but Mr. Silver Fox...” She practically purred the man’s name. “Roman Dunholm might be the exception.”

  “Nicole.” Astrid was both amused and horrified by this.

  “You’re all staring at what?” Dane approached them—turning his head to look in the same direction they were.

  “Don’t stare.” Tansy tugged at his arm.

  “Well, hello there.” Dane pulled Tansy into a close embrace. “Why would I stare at anything or anyone that wasn’t you?” He bent his head to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.

  Mags was fairly certain her mother would not have approved of this public display of passionate affection.

  “Blech.” Leif made a series of gagging noises.

  Mags laughed—so did the rest of them.

  “Do you hear something?” Dane lifted his head from Tansy’s. “Oh look. There are other people here.”

  Tansy leaned against him, smiling blissfully.

  “Who’s the dude with Shelby?” Leif asked. “The one you’re all staring at.”

  “That dude is Shelby’s dad.” Tansy ruffled Leif’s overlong curls.

  “Like bio-dad or adoptive dad?” He glanced from face-to-face.

  “Adoptive.” Astrid reached over to take Mags’s hand.

  Shelby wasn’t the product of a willing, love-filled entanglement—a fact her nieces knew. They’d never asked for details and she’d never offered them up. What happened had been horrible but, over time, she’d learned not to let the event rule her. She’d been so young and her family had been struggling with drought, loss of bees and her mother’s failing health. Giving up her baby had been the best option. Shelby had gone to the Dunholms and, every day, Mags had grieved for her baby girl.

  “He’s not sticking around, is he?” Dane played with one of the flowers in Tansy’s hair. “Or is he crashing Camellia’s wedding?”

  “I hope not.” Astrid squeezed her hand.

  “I hope so.” Nicole smiled, biting her lower lip and fluttering her eyelashes.

  “Nicole.” Tansy rolled her eyes. “He’s just the sort of development Willadeene will jump on.”

  Mags took a deep breath. Tansy was right. Roman would be a distraction—the very thing Mags had hoped to prevent for Camellia’s big day. She was kicking herself as she admitted, “Well, actually, I...might have invited him to stay for the wedding.”

  All eyes swiveled her way.

  “That’s...sweet of you.” But Astrid’s owl-like eyes were shocked.

  “Aunt Mags...” Tansy opened her mouth but nothing more came out.

  “I can’t believe Willadeene is still wreaking such havoc.” Rosemary frowned. Her hands on her hips. “Why doesn’t someone put the woman in her place.” She shot Nicole an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Nic, I know she’s your mom—”

  “Oh, no. I totally agree. Willadeene and I aren’t close. Like, at all.” Nicole held up her hand to stop Rose. “Mom or not, I have no illusions about the woman.”

  “The Wicked Witch of the—” But Leif broke off when Dane flicked him, hard, on the ear. “Oww.”

  “Dane.” Mags chastised, shooting him her most disapproving look. “Be nice to your little brother.”

  Dane let go of Tansy to take her hand. “Come on, Magnolia. You, of all people, know how it is to be the oldest sibling. He was about to make a grievous error. It’s my duty to stop that from happening.” His smile was rather devastating. If it wasn’t for poor Leif still rubbing his ear and red-faced, she might have been swayed.

  Mags’s brows rose but she managed not to smile in return. “You’re wasting your charm on me, Dane Knudson. Now, apologize to poor Leif while we go take pictures.” She extricated her hand from Dane’s grasp and waved the others forward.

  She noticed Dane grab Leif in a headlock. Seconds later, Dane was tickling Leif until the teen was laughing and trying to pull away.

  “They’re two little boys trapped in six foot plus size bodies.” And Tansy didn’t sound the least bit upset about it.

  Mags didn’t argue.

  The pictures went well. The photographer was a bit jumpy over the bees and Bea smiled only when the photographer wasn’t taking pictures so Camellia called in reinforcements. Bea adored Camellia’s canine menagerie. The baby girl was so excited when Camellia called them over, she smiled for the next ten minutes straight.

 

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