Honey Be Mine, page 2
Everett tried not to grit his teeth. Hobart was right, a crime had been committed. But as far as Everett was concerned, a paint marker “gun” versus a legitimate firearm offered two very different levels of threat. “I’m not happy to see the state of the park, Mayor Hobart, but I’m relieved that the damage was done by a paint gun, which is considered sport equipment, not a potentially lethal firearm.” Surely the man could understand there was a significant difference?
Hobart just stared at him.
Everett stood and stared back.
“What do you propose to do about it?” Hobart snapped.
“Get a cleanup crew out here.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck. After Mayor Hobart’s panicked call, Everett had called the local game warden, the county sheriff, and the state highway patrol—determined to pool every resource in the area to prevent things from escalating. Because that’s what should be done when folk were driving around shooting at things close to populated areas. Shooting as in guns. Real guns. Not paint guns. Now, he’d have to make the same phone calls all over again to apologize. This was vandalism and warranted investigation, but it didn’t warrant having the entire county on standby and braced for a serious-threat-level event.
Thank goodness.
“And?” Hobart didn’t seem satisfied. “As the county parks and recreation director, isn’t there more you can do?”
“I’ve already reached out to local law enforcement so we can find out who did this.” Today was the start of a new school year, so he was ninety-eight percent certain this was the handiwork of some bored teenagers—probably some last hurrah of summer. But whoever it was, they needed to face consequences. Defacing public property wasn’t okay. Paintballs weren’t lethal, but they sure stung like a sonofabitch if you got hit by one at close range.
“Good.” Hobart nodded. “Good. I won’t stand for this sort of desecration. Not on my watch. You understand?”
Everett nodded, his jaw clenched tight. He wasn’t the quick-to-temper type, but today was testing that. Rather, Mayor Dennis Hobart was testing that. Still, better to be relieved at the truth than riled up over the way the man had presented things to Everett. He took pictures, made some notes on his phone, and walked Hobart back to his office before climbing into his truck. He hadn’t had time to check in with his office this morning, so as he drove back to Honey, he called his office.
“Morning, boss.” Libby Owens-Baldwin, his recently hired secretary, answered on the second ring.
“Morning. I’m headed to the office now. Anything I need to know about?”
“Nope. Pretty quiet.” She paused. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. Had to make a run to Alpine Springs before I came in.”
“I must have missed that on the calendar. Okay, I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He disconnected and let the drive soothe his nerves. Until he reached his office, he wasn’t going to think about Mayor Hobart, the paint splatters all over the park, or the phone calls he’d have to make. He turned on the radio and scrolled through the stations. Nothing worth listening to. He flipped off the radio and peered out the window.
The late August sun had turned things mostly brown and brittle. An occasional sunflower stood defiantly amid the dry grasses, swaying in the still-balmy breeze. A few Hereford cattle grazed in a nearby field. There were a couple of handmade signs along the roadside advertising this weekend’s farmers market before he drove past the You’re Entering Honey Country sign. By the time he parked in front of the county courthouse, he’d relaxed.
Libby looked up from her computer as he stepped into the office. “Hey, boss. I put the paper and your messages on your desk. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”
“Thank you.” He headed for his office, but his phone pinged so he paused and pulled it from his pocket.
A text from his sister, Jenny.
We missed you this morning, but thanks to one of the Bee Girls for bringing over the onesies for the baby goats, Gramma Dot isn’t mad at you.
Damn. He’d forgotten. Once Mayor Hobart called, picking up knitted onesies from the Hill place was the last thing on his mind.
Then an image popped up on his screen. He’d expected to see Astrid or Tansy—not Rosemary. Rosemary Hill. Rosebud to him. He swallowed, staring closer at the picture. She hadn’t changed. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. His Rosebud.
Nope. Not mine. She’d never been his.
In the picture, she and Jenny were laughing as they each held up a onesie-clad goat kid. Gramma Dot and his mom grinned alongside them. They all looked so happy, he found himself smiling.
“Aw, how cute.” Libby stood at his side, a mug of steaming coffee in her hands but her eyes on his phone screen. “Who is... Is that Rosemary Hill?”
“Looks like it.” He closed the image and tucked the phone back into his pocket. He’d expected her to hightail it out of Honey now that her aunt’s wedding was over—not drop by to visit his mother, sister, and grandmother. But from the looks on their faces, the visit had been a good thing. Today’s been full of surprises.
“I guess she came to town for her aunt’s wedding.” Libby had a thoughtful look on her face. “Probably not staying for long, though.”
He shrugged.
“You don’t know?” She smiled up at him. “I always thought you two were close.”
“We were. I guess. Sure.” He frowned. “I mean we are...friends.” Friends that had only talked a handful of times the last twelve months or so.
Her brows rose, and her smile grew. “Right. Friends.” But the emphasis on the last word was a little too pointed to miss.
“Good morning, Everett.” Lorna Franks, his education and outreach facilitator, opened the door. “Libby.” There was a hint of frost in her voice.
“Lorna,” Libby gushed, her smile bright. “How are you? Did you bring your adorable baby?” She paused, giving Lorna a once-over. “You’re getting your figure back. Good for you.”
Lorna opened her mouth, then shook her head. “Everett, this will be a quick visit. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” He opened his office and stood aside, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach. He nodded his thanks as Libby pressed the cup of coffee into his hands, then pulled his office door shut behind him. “What can I do for you?”
“It will never not be weird to walk in here and see her. Why did you hire Libby Owens?” This was a whisper. “Wherever that woman goes, she leaves a wake of destruction behind her. And no, I’m not exaggerating. She and her sister love nothing more than to stir up trouble. You don’t need that here, in your place of work—or in your life.”
He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “She was the only qualified applicant.” This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten a talking-to about hiring Libby. There was plenty of talk about the Owens sisters, he knew that, but the applicant list had been short. As in Libby and one other person. What choice had he had? All he wanted was someone who’d show up for work, do their job, and be pleasant. So far, Libby had done just that. “I’m thinking you didn’t come in just to ask me about my secretary?”
“No.” Lorna sat in one of the chairs facing his desk. “Everett, I’m here to give you my two-week notice. I need to be home right now—I hope you understand.”
Everett had been expecting as much. Lorna was one of the most efficient and likable people he’d ever known, and he’d miss having her around. But he respected her decision to stay home with her baby girl. Even if it did leave him shorthanded.
“It’s not that I don’t love my job, Everett. I do. Working remotely, part-time—it’s a sweet deal. And you’re a dream to work for.” She sighed. “But this isn’t where my heart is.”
He nodded. “I appreciate the notice.”
“Of course.” She stood. “And you know I’ll help with my replacement. Whatever questions they have, I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“I appreciate that, too.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you have anyone in mind?”
“I’d say one of the Hills. They’ve been pretty much in charge of the Junior Beekeepers for months now anyway. But I think Tansy might be too busy with the agritourism stuff she and Dane are developing. Astrid’s a newlywed and pregnant, so her plate is pretty full, too. Any idea if Rosemary is staying in town?”
He shook his head. Everything he’d heard about Rosebud was that she was living the life she’d always wanted. There was no way she’d trade that for this—even if he was a dream to work with. And he was happy for her.
“I’m sure you’ll find the right person.” She leaned forward to whisper, “A hint, the right person is not Kate Owens-Knudson.”
He chuckled. While he’d never had any negative firsthand dealings with Libby, he couldn’t say the same for her sister, Kate. She’d gone and married his best friend’s father—then done her best to tear that family apart. “Thanks. I’ll try to remember that.”
Lorna chuckled. “I better let you get back to work.” She paused. “Did you see the paper yet?”
“No.” He walked with her to the door. “Haven’t had time yet.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “Well, you made the front page. And...it’s a good article.”
“Good.” That was something. But, for now, being in the paper was the least of his worries. “Take care.” He closed the door behind her, then turned to Libby. “Can you find Lorna’s job description for me? I want to review and update it before we post the opening.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the now-closed door. “Can do, boss. Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.” He stifled a yawn. “I’ve got a lot of phone calls to make.” Phone calls he couldn’t put off any longer.
“I’ll do my best to keep things quiet out here.” She laughed, smoothed her tight sweater over her chest, and smiled at him. She did that sometimes. Smile and look at him like she was expecting something more. There wasn’t anything more, so with a nod, he went back into his office.
He pulled the door closed behind him and sat behind his desk. While he waited for his computer to load the day’s schedule, he sipped his coffee. It’d been a long day, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning. He took a sip of his coffee—scanning his messages and the paper.
“What the hell?” The headline jumped out, mocking and impossible to miss. “On the front page?” He shook his head. What have I ever done to Daisy Granger? He’d thought he was friends with the woman who’d interviewed him, but this... This was just mean. And now that it was out there, there was nothing he could do about it. Great. Just great.
First things first, those phone calls. He had no doubt everyone was scrambling to come up with a safety plan—active-shooter threats were nightmare-scenario situations that were both time-consuming and high stress. The sooner he could assure them things weren’t what they’d been led to believe, the better.
The reactions he got were mixed. Some were amused. Others, not so much. But the overall consensus was relief. That, Everett decided, would be what he’d focus on. Relief. He’d take paint-gun vandalism over potential casualties all day, every day.
Around noon, Libby poked her head in to tell him she was taking lunch. When she asked him if he wanted to come with her, he declined. Hiring her had led folk to speculate, but so far, there hadn’t been much talk linking him and Libby Owens-Baldwin outside of the office. He’d like to keep it that way.
He was poring over next year’s proposed operating budget when there was a knock on his office door.
Dane Knudson, his best friend, leaned inside. “Earth to Everett?”
He set the papers aside. “What brings you into town?” He held his breath, waiting for Dane to start teasing him over the damn newspaper headline.
“Lunch. You free?” He nodded at the desk. “A man’s gotta eat.”
Everett stood. “I could eat.” Maybe Everett had caught a break and Dane hadn’t seen the paper. “Where’s Tansy?”
“Spending some time with her sisters.” Dane shrugged. “She and Astrid are worried about something being up with Rosemary, so I figured I should make myself scarce. Let them talk.”
If he’d thought things through, he wouldn’t have asked, “What’s going on with Rosebud?” But the question was out, and Dane was grinning at him. No matter how many times he told his best friend his feelings for Rosebud were over and done with, Dane didn’t buy it. “Come on, now.” Everett sighed. “You set me up for that.”
Dane shrugged, then slapped him on the back. “Food.”
While they walked from the courthouse to Delaney’s, Everett forced himself not to think about what Dane had said. If Rosebud’s sisters were worrying, then something was up, but they’d sort it out. The three of them had always been close—in tune with one another. A couple of years and a thousand-plus miles wasn’t enough to change that. She had plenty of people to help her; she didn’t need him in the mix.
It was a Monday, so Delaney’s wasn’t too crowded. The fact that it was the first day of school might have played a part, too. Which reminded him. “How are you doing? Your little brother’s senior year and all. Is Leif excited?” He glanced at his friend.
Sure enough, Dane’s jaw clenched tight. “Oh, he’s excited, all right. That’s all that matters. I’d be happy if he spent as much time on his studies as he does courting Kerrielynn, but it is what it is.”
Everett laughed. “Young love.”
“Can hurt like hell.” Dane shot him a long look. “You’d know all about that.”
He ran a hand over his face.
Dane grinned.
“It’s too early to start drinking, so how about we change the subject and not talk about Rosebud anymore?”
“Sure.” Dane nodded. “Let’s give that a try.” But he shook his head.
Once they were seated and their orders were in, Everett told Dane about Lorna resigning and the paintball vandalism in Alpine Springs.
“Damn.” Dane sat back, his brows high. “I bet making that second round of phone calls was...fun.” He chuckled. “That Dennis Hobart is something else. I don’t think that man has ever had a good day—at least, he’s never acted like it.”
“At least his bad mood is warranted today.” Everett took a sip of his iced tea. “I’d be pissed off if my brand-new park equipment had been trashed like that.”
“Any idea who’d do this?” Dane leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“The sheriff’s going to do some digging—that’s his jurisdiction, not mine. But if I were to guess, I’d say it’s a bunch of kids pulling some end-of-summer stunt. Like we used to do.” He grinned at Dane. Summers got long in small towns with limited things to do.
“Not that we ever destroyed property like that.” Dane frowned. “If we had and we got caught, my dad would have tanned my hide. Then yours.”
Everett nodded. It was one thing to pull a harmless prank. It was something else entirely to deface public property at the taxpayers’ expense. “Do me a favor, though. If you hear something, let me know?”
Dane nodded. “Now, what are you going to do about Lorna? It’s not a surprise, but still, she was good at her job.”
“Don’t I know it.” He shrugged. “Of course Lorna said she’d help train her replacement—that helps. But it’s not going to be easy to find someone that’s good with people, knows all the festivals and the area, and gets excited about educational programming.”
“A needle in a haystack if you ask me.” Dane nodded. “Maybe you should offer Lorna more money to stay.”
Everett chuckled. Lorna leaving had nothing to do with money and everything to do with her growing family. He respected that. It was time to find a replacement. And the sooner he got the job posted, the sooner that would happen.
“I hate to bring this up, but Tansy’s convinced your secretary is after you. Considering we’re talking about Libby Owens-Baldwin, I can see where she’s coming from.” Dane gave him a long assessing look.
“I appreciate the concern and all, but it’s not going to happen.” He chuckled. “Libby’s doing a good job, but I won’t date an employee or a coworker. You can pass that along to Tansy. And my mother. And my sister. And Gramma Dot.” He paused. “Should I be offended that all the women in my life seem to think I need protecting? Or flattered?”
Dane laughed. “Flattered, I think. It means they care.”
“So they’re not implying that I’m incapable of making good choices when it comes to my personal life?” He sighed.
“I’d buckle up, because thanks to that article this morning, your personal life is now everyone’s business.” Dane was laughing harder then.
There it is. Everett sighed. He’d been careful not to date many women from Honey because he didn’t want the whole town planning his wedding before there was a second date. That was not the way it worked. He’d grown up watching his parents live their vows every single day—working through the good and the bad times, giving unconditional love, and truly being a partner in all things. That was what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to settle. Until then, he needed to be prepared for the hell he was going to catch over that damn newspaper headline.
CHAPTER TWO
THE TAGGERT PLACE was a working goat farm. Meaning herds of red and brown and black and white goats dotted the hillside, and a whole host of baas and bleats filled the air, along with the occasional tinkling of a bell.
Rosemary had learned the difference between milk goats and Angora goats when she was very young. The Taggerts took their goats to a lot of the same festivals her family’s Honey Hill Farms would attend. While the Hills sold their honey and beeswax goods, the Taggerts offered goat-milking demonstrations and how to weave Angora hair into thread. Many a time, she had lent a hand at their booth when she was younger.
