The Sweetest Thing, page 8
Dane stood. “Get your stuff,” he murmured to Leif.
“I appreciate you coming in,” Mrs. Lopez said as she shook his father’s hand.
“Yes, well.” His father spoke directly to Jed Dwyer, his tone razor-sharp. “It’s not like I had much of a choice now, did I?”
Dane shot his father a look. Challenging a man twenty years his junior with a good fifty pounds of work-earned muscle made all the sense in the world. Not exactly role-model behavior. He got the whole protective thing—he felt the same way—but Leif didn’t need his father causing a scene. Dane nudged his father, hard. “We appreciate your time, Mrs. Lopez.”
His father’s jaw was locked and it was clear he wasn’t happy, but he stopped glaring at Jed Dwyer. “Let’s go.”
Dane led the way, holding the door wide for his father. Leif grabbed his backpack and hurried after them, almost tripping over his own feet in the process.
“Mr. Dwyer.” Principal Lopez stepped aside so Jed Dwyer could come inside her office.
“Come on, boy.” Jed took hold of his son’s upper arm and pulled him to his feet, forcibly steering Clay into the principal’s office.
A cold, hard knot formed in the pit of Dane’s stomach as he watched the exchange. He’d been all too willing to blame the Dwyer boys for the trouble Leif had found himself in. But the reality wasn’t that clear-cut. Real life seldom is.
He turned to find Leif, alone, waiting. “Where’s Dad?”
Leif shrugged. “He got a phone call.”
“He left?” Dane glanced down the long, empty hallway. Was he going to talk to Leif? Tell him what the plan was—if the plan was still what Dane and Mrs. Lopez had discussed? Why had their father bothered to show up if he wasn’t going to stick around? He ran a hand along the back of his neck and sighed. “What is he, a ninja? I didn’t know the old man could move that fast.”
The corner of Leif’s mouth kicked up for a split second before he winced.
“Hurt?” Dane asked, eyeing his brother’s lower lip. It looked more swollen now. Painfully so. “Probably want to get some ice on that.”
Leif nodded.
“Let’s go.” Dane led Leif outside. He spied his father in his truck in the parking lot, the engine idling. From the amount of hand gestures, his father was having quite a telephone conversation. It’d better be damn important. He’d dropped everything to get here for Leif—including the long-awaited teleconference with the green architect one of his former colleagues had recommended for the expansion. Dane got into his own truck and sped out of the lot.
“I need to make a quick stop.” Dane pulled into the gas station on the edge of town, parked, and climbed out of the truck. He turned and asked, “You want anything from inside?”
“I’m good,” Leif murmured.
Dane wracked his brain for something to say—something to comfort his brother. Leif wasn’t okay, today had made that blatantly obvious. What if he said something that made it worse? It’s not like I have any idea what I’m doing. “Be back, then.” He closed the door, filled the gas tank, then walked across the parking lot and into the convenience store. Once he’d paid for the gas and a large paper cup full of ice, he stepped back outside.
His gaze caught on a woman, a toddler on her hip. She was vaguely familiar, tall and slim, with long red hair. Her green eyes met his. His smile of greeting vanished as she shot him a cold look and brushed past him, and into the shop. Have a nice day. Someone should. He shook the cup of ice and headed for his truck.
I can’t seem to catch a break.
Tansy Hill, wearing a bright yellow attention-grabbing shirt with a honeycomb print, stood beside her clunker of a truck, filling the gas tank. He didn’t say a word. Maybe if he was really quiet, and really lucky, she wouldn’t see him.
Tansy turned, her mossy-green eyes scanning her surroundings.
Or not. He could feel her gaze but wasn’t about to acknowledge her. There was no point. While he usually didn’t shy away from a good bout of verbal sparring, he didn’t have the energy to go toe-to-toe with her today.
He held his breath, keeping his attention on his truck, until he pulled open the driver’s door, climbed in and held out the cup. “Here.”
Leif took the cup and looked inside. His little brother’s jaw clenched tight and he pressed a hand to the side of his face but Dane saw the quiver of his chin. For an instant, Leif wasn’t some hostile, rebellious teenager, he was Dane’s little brother. And he’s hurting.
Dane reached out, resting a hand on Leif’s shoulder. “I... If you need to talk, I’m here.”
Leif nodded but kept his face covered.
“You ready?” Dane started the truck—but there was a knock on his window. All he saw was bright yellow, but it was enough. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, dreading the inevitable. Without looking, he rolled his window down. “Miss Hill. What an unexpected treat.” He glanced at her, shielding his eyes. “Hold on.” He reached for his glove box, pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. “Better.”
“Funny.” She sighed. “As a decent human being, it is my duty to tell you that your right rear wheel looks extremely low.” She walked away without giving him a chance to say a thing.
Well, damn. Dane glanced at Leif, who was sort of smiling, and shrugged. “Too much?” He took off his sunglasses.
“I guess.” Leif shrugged back. “It’s kind of...your thing.”
“Is it?” he asked, pulling alongside the air pump machine. “Guess I’ll check the tire. You hold that ice to your face.” He climbed down, squatted by the rear of the truck and surveyed the tire. Well, damn again. He was standing when Tansy’s rattletrap of a truck rolled up to the parking lot exit alongside him. “Tansy?” He stepped forward and knocked on her passenger window.
She ignored him.
“Tansy.” He knocked again, sighing. Of course, she was ignoring him. It was his own damn fault. “Thank you.”
Tansy’s head spun in his direction and her eyes went wide, then narrowed. She seemed to be waiting for something.
“Really,” he added, sincere.
She blinked several times before she nodded and pulled out onto the road.
Was she smiling? Nah. The only time Tansy ever smiled at him was when she’d bested him. That made her happy. Boy, did that make her happy.
After the day he’d been having, a tire blowout on the highway would be the cherry on top. He glanced down the road, Tansy’s highlighter-yellow shirt visible through the back window of her truck cab. If someone had told him Tansy Hill would save the day, he’d have laughed out loud. But she had. And Astrid hadn’t been in the car to make her this time, either. He liked knowing that a little too much. I’m a dumbass.
* * *
DUMBASS. LEIF HELD the ice to his lip, watching his brother watch Tansy Hill’s truck rattle down the county road. She’d totally just saved their butts even though Dane was a jerk to her. Then again, Dane had a lot going on. Thanks to me. He stared into the ice cup, his insides knotted. People sucked. Period. Like, all of them.
And Tansy must be trouble, too. Why else was Dane so...weird around her? Sure, she’d saved their asses twice now but there was something about her that made Dane act the way he did when she was around so... Leif shook his head.
His father drank too much and sucked at being a father. First his mom died and his dad flipped—at least, that’s what Dane said. Dane said their dad hadn’t always been the world’s worst father. Leif had a hard time believing that. He didn’t remember his mom. He did remember his father’s wives two through four. They weren’t all bad. Not until the end. Then his dad went to the hunting cabin, things got tense, people in town started talking and Dane was left to keep everything running smoothly. Or at least, Dane tried.
Kate had been the worst. Kate was the reason today had happened. Clay. Talking trash about his father, making Kate out to be some victim and Dane to be a real rat bastard. Hell yes, Leif had thrown the first punch—but Clay threw the last. The whole fight, Leif saw red. He wanted to shut Clay up. Then Kerrielynn Baldwin had stepped in. Nothing like seeing the most popular girl in school get pushed to the ground and knowing it was his fault. Leif had been making sure she was okay when Clay slammed his head into a locker. Their tussle broke that science equipment, too. Leif’s lungs felt tight and his hands fisted just thinking about it. All of it.
“You ready?” Dane climbed into the truck.
Leif let out a slow, unsteady breath. “Sure,” he murmured, turning the ice cup in his hands. Dane glanced his way and Leif braced himself. He didn’t want to talk about it. How could he? He didn’t believe Dane had hooked up with Kate, but a lot of people did. And they kept talking about it. Talking to him about it—like he had the inside scoop or something. Leif was sick of hearing about it.
“You want to drive home?” Dane asked, holding the keys out.
Leif stared. “I don’t have my license.”
“You have your learner’s permit. I’m in the car.” Dane jingled the keys. “The more practice the better.”
Leif glanced at his brother, then the keys. “I’m grounded.” And, if he wanted to drive, now probably wasn’t the best time to remind Dane of that.
“Yeah.” Dane sighed but didn’t take the keys back.
“My lip hurts.” He used his other hand to point at the ice cup he had pressed to his lip.
“Good thing you’re not using your lip to steer.” Dane frowned at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t want to drive?”
“I do.” If he ever got up the nerve to take off for good, it’d be easier if he could drive. Sometimes, that was all he thought about—going someplace where no one knew him or his father or brother or any of the crap about their family.
“Then take these.” He tossed the keys.
Leif slid across the bench seat and put the key in the ignition.
“Watch your speed.” Dane put on his seat belt. “Use your blinker. We should be good.”
Leif buckled up and turned on the truck. Every once in a while, Dane was cool. Like now. If he wasn’t always trying to be Leif’s dad and brother, Leif would probably like him more. Then again, he was a better dad than their father was.
“Oh, and the brakes are stiff.” Dane pointed at the floorboard.
“Right.” Leif put the truck in gear and started forward slowly.
“Relax. You got this, Leif.” Dane slumped back against the truck seat like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Even after he’d snuck out, been suspended from school, failed pre-Cal and gotten into a fight at school, it was like Dane still believed in Leif—like Dane trusted him to get this right. It was like Dane didn’t see Leif for the loser he was. Leif knew it. Their dad knew it. Everyone in school knew it. So why didn’t Dane? He’s a dumbass.
But the vise pressing the air from Leif’s lungs let up a little. As Leif drove them down the country road toward Texas Viking Honey, he was smiling.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’M LEAVING FOR the Madigans’ in ten minutes.” Tansy went through her backpack, making doubly sure she had everything she’d need. The tiny town of Rose Prairie, where the Madigan family farm and beeyard was, took a good thirty minutes to reach—too far to double back if something was forgotten.
When Texas had offered an agriculture exemption for keeping bees to help with the dwindling bee population, Honey Hill Farms jumped at the opportunity. There were plenty of landowners that wanted the exemption but none of the hands-on work of beekeeping. So they paid the Hills to maintain the hives and let the Hills keep the honey—a win for the bees and the Hills.
“I’m ready.” Astrid patted the plastic hanging bag containing their beekeeping suits. “Full suits, gloves and tape.”
“Lots of tape.” Tansy nodded, smiling when Astrid dropped another roll of wide blue painter’s tape into the pocket on the front of the bag.
While the Hills primarily raised the more gentle-natured Italian bees, the Rose Prairie bees were feral, and the majority of feral Texas bees were Africanized. The upside was how adaptive these bees were to the Texas heat, resistant to mites and pests, and productive honey makers. The downside was their aggressive nature. Amongst the Texas beekeeping community, these bees were called hot—referring to their temperament. Astrid said they were cranky but Tansy thought they were just plain mean. If one started stinging, the others followed suit and that’s why proper beekeeping gear was so important for this visit. The tape kept a bee from trying to slip in between a boot and ankle cuff, the space at the end of the zipper, or any place a bee or two might sneak in. More tape was always a good idea.
“You’re stopping by Lorna’s?” Aunt Camellia was tucking several plastic containers full of food into a brown paper shopping bag.
“After we’re done in Rose Prairie. She’s handing off the Junior Beekeepers stuff for tomorrow night’s meeting.” Everett had assured her the meetings all but ran themselves, and if that was the case, she’d be able to handle them on her own in future—without Dane Knudson’s help.
“Good. Van says Lorna’s about to pop any day now so you make sure you give her this. Just let me repack this into a cooler bag.”
“Pop?” Tansy winced. “That sounds just awful.”
“Fine.” Aunt Camellia opened the pantry and pulled out a large insulated shopping bag. “Lorna should be delivering baby Franks pretty quick.” She started stacking food containers inside. “The last thing she and Bud need to worry over is cooking and cleaning—first babies can be a challenge.”
“She must be so excited,” Astrid cooed. “I can’t wait to babysit.” Astrid loved babies and animals and bees with equal enthusiasm.
Tansy didn’t mind bees or animals but babies made her nervous. They were too small. And noisy. And fragile. “We’ll make sure she gets it.” Tansy shifted her backpack and took the packed-full insulated bag. “Don’t worry.”
She and Astrid finished loading the van and headed for the farm-to-market road that led them to the highway and Rose Prairie beyond.
“I want a baby,” Astrid announced so suddenly that Tansy almost drove off the road.
“Where did that come from?” Tansy asked, steering the van between the lines once more.
“Not now, obviously.” Astrid shook her head. “Eventually. I want lots of babies.”
“Lots?” Tansy wrinkled up her nose. “How many is lots?”
“More than two.” Astrid sighed, leaning back against her seat and hugging herself.
“Do you have someone in mind to help you make these babies?” Tansy laughed. “I guess I sort of figured you’d tell me when you found the guy you’d want to...impregnate you.”
Astrid turned a deep red as she stared at her sister. “Tansy.”
“What? It seems like a perfectly reasonable question.” She was laughing harder now.
“Impregnate me? That sounds so romantic.” But Astrid was laughing, too. “In answer to your question, no. I don’t have someone in mind. It’s not like there are a whole bunch of options in Honey. We know everyone.”
Tansy didn’t argue. The pool of single men in Honey was more like a puddle. A teeny-tiny puddle of men she knew too well to ever consider romantically. “I guess we’re doomed to dating apps?”
It was Astrid’s turn to wince. “Um, no. It’s all about meeting to...well, you know.”
“Hook up?” Tansy glanced at her sister. “Well, I guess you could consider it practice for when you do meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Baby-Daddy Material.”
Astrid burst out laughing again, waving her hand dismissively. “Enough of that. How about some tunes?” She leaned forward and flipped on the radio to a classic rock station.
Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” came spilling through the speakers, instantly transporting Tansy to that day.
“Oops.” Astrid changed the station. “Sorry.”
“Unless you’re programming the radio playlist, you don’t need to apologize.” Besides, it was ridiculous for the song to still get to her. It was just a song. And, if she could ever disentangle said song from the look on Dane’s face during one of the more humiliating experiences of her life, it would probably still be one of her favorite songs.
Astrid settled on a safe classical music station for the remainder of the drive, talking about Nicole’s dating app life and the possibility of venturing into breeding queen bees as another income stream.
Finally, they were bouncing down the rough gravel road that led to the periphery of the Madigans’ property line, then Tansy parked and gave Astrid a look.
Astrid gave her a thumbs-up.
“I’ll get the smoker started.” Tansy held out the garment bag to Astrid, then reached for the cylinder smoker. She opened the funnel-like top, added bits of burlap inside the metal canister, and lit the fabric on fire. It would take a few minutes before it was smoking well so she set the handheld smoker on a large flat rock to burn down.
“Good?” Astrid asked, securing the front zipper beneath the Velcro seal and holding out her arms for inspection.
Tansy turned Astrid around, double-checking for any potential points of entry and applying tape as necessary. “Good.”
“Your turn.” Astrid stood aside, tape at the ready, as Tansy pulled on her well-worn white keeper suit. In Texas, the vented suits were almost a requirement. Today offered a glorious May morning with springlike temperatures and a light breeze but by noon, it would be inching into the nineties. In August, the heat was downright miserable. Without the ventilated suits, they’d be dripping sweat and soaked through, facing potential heat exhaustion before they’d finished inspecting the hives.
“Give me a slow spin.” Astrid stepped back to watch, then knelt, taping Tansy’s elasticized pant cuffs tight against her brown leather work boots. She stood, added a piece over the slight gap at the top of one of Tansy’s zippers and nodded. “Clear.”
