How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart

by Candice Patterson

  With an oomph, Arianne shoved his chair into the kitchen. Was this his kitchen? It was so…clean. The countertops sparkled and the room smelled like cinnamon and apples.

  “I’ll be finishing up outside if you need anything.” Jude squeezed Huck’s shoulder and disappeared out the door.

  Everything was fine. Now that he was home, things would get back to normal.

  “Your bedroom’s all ready for you.” Arianne steered through the kitchen. “Your dirty clothes have been washed and put away, and I put fresh sheets on the bed.”

  “You cleaned my room?”

  “Someone had to. It looked like a nuclear warzone. You can’t afford to risk infection.”

  The idea of her going through his things rankled. They entered the living room, and his blood pressure spiked. “What is that?”

  A large blanket draped over his moose.

  “I got tired of Bullwinkle’s eyes following me everywhere I went. It scared Emma, so…”

  “Whatever.” He’d deal with her later. Right now, he was too weak to argue.

  She struggled to get the wheelchair through his bedroom door, but finally managed. His bed was made, and he could see his carpet. The room smelled like fabric softener.

  Arianne tugged down the blankets and wheeled him as close to the bed as she could. Emma stood beside the mattress. “Thank you, Mr. Huck, for letting us live with you. Do you have a swing set?”

  “No.”

  “Can I see your bees? Will you teach me how to make honey?”

  Arianne knelt in front of her daughter. “Huck’s had a long day, and he’s very tired. Would you please get a water bottle out of the refrigerator and bring it to me? He needs to take his medicine.”

  “Yes, Mommy.” The kid skipped from the room.

  Arianne fluffed his pillows. “You ready?” She walked in front of him and her cheek touched his as she hugged him close. With his good arm and leg, he helped push his weight up. He teetered, but she held him steady. She fit against him like a puzzle piece.

  They maneuvered to the mattress and he fell onto the bed, taking her with him. Something he would’ve enjoyed had the pain not made him nauseous.

  Emma returned with the water, and Arianne held a finger to her lips. He clenched his teeth as he lowered onto the pillows. The ache in his ribs snatched his breath.

  “Pain?”

  He nodded.

  Arianne retrieved a pill and twisted the cap off the water. He downed the capsule along with most of the liquid.

  She tugged the blankets up to his chest. “Get some sleep. I set up Emma’s old baby monitor, so let me know when you’re ready for supper. Just talk into it and I’ll hear you.”

  How ridiculous. A few minutes ago, he’d played the part of an old man. Now he was a newborn baby.

  Arianne shooed Emma out and turned to go. He grabbed her wrist. “Thanks.”

  The contact sent a spark of heat through him. He’d almost died, and in that moment he realized how much he wanted someone to care. But Arianne couldn’t care. He needed to keep his distance so he wouldn’t hurt her too.

  Nurse bees care for the developing bees as they undergo metamorphosis, from egg to adult.

  10

  Arianne peeked inside Huck’s bedroom door. The setting sun glowed through the sheer curtains and cast a pinkish hue over the room. He faced the window, making it hard for Arianne to determine if he was asleep. The sight squeezed her chest, like witnessing Samson after his battle with Delilah. A strong, capable man weaker than a newborn kitten.

  He turned to her, eyes glazed.

  “Ready for supper?”

  “Sure.” He tried to sit up, but his lips twisted in pain.

  She moved to his bedside.

  “I can do it,” he growled.

  Arianne inched to the bed and put her knee onto the mattress. She bent and put her arms around him. “Let me help you.”

  His thick back muscles flexed beneath her palms. She pulled with all her strength. Her pulse raced as she fluffed his pillow against the headboard with one hand and held him tight with the other. She clung on longer than necessary, to comfort him more than anything. He’d been through so much. It had nothing to do with her silly crush or that delicious smell of soap and…Huck.

  He eased back against the headboard, breathing heavily. “I could’ve done it myself if you’d have given me a minute.”

  She ignored his grouchy tone and retrieved his food from the kitchen.

  “Please tell me the food doesn’t jiggle.” He frowned at the tray.

  “Jude’s wife sent over homemade clam chowder and blueberry muffins. How does that sound?” His stomach answered with a rowdy grumble. She laughed and straddled the tray over his lap.

  Huck reached for the spoon but failed to grasp it, restricted by his finger splints. He tried again. After the fourth failed attempt, she sat on the bed and reached for the spoon.

  “Drop it.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “I can do it.” He scowled at the bowl. His jaw flexed. The skin around his eyes was jaundice from the healing bruises. Despite the fact that his hair was shaggy and he needed a good shave, he was handsome in a wild mountain man kind of way.

  Just yesterday she’d sat behind him in math class, staring at the back of his head, daydreaming he’d profess his undying love. Yet twelve years separated yesterday and today.

  She loathed the way he stirred her blood. “Will you please let me help you?”

  He glared at her. “I can feed myself.”

  “Fine.” She stormed out the room and shut the door. If he ate cold soup, so be it.

  After a late supper, Arianne tucked Emma into bed and checked on Huck one last time. His bedroom light blazed, and the tray sat on his bedside table, most of the food wasted. Muffin crumbs sprinkled his blanket and soup stains dirtied his shirt. Stubborn mule.

  She tip-toed into the room for the tray and turned off the light with her elbow as she left, chasing away the disappointment that he didn’t want her help.

  ~*~

  The next day, Huck woke to the sun in his face and the scream of a bald eagle outside his open bedroom window. He pressed his hand against his ribs and pushed his weight up and back against the headboard. His body trembled and he took slow, steady breaths.

  A knock.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened to Arianne with her hip against the doorframe. Bare feet peeked from teal-and-purple-striped pajama bottoms. “Hockey Fights Cancer” stretched across her too big T-shirt in purple letters. Hair that hadn’t made it into her ponytail framed black horn-rimmed glasses.

  There was the Arianne he used to know. She’d been there the whole time under a different alias.

  She smiled. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.”

  “Breakfast is ready. I didn’t know what you liked, so I made about everything I could think of. What can I get you?”

  A bathroom. He needed to go so bad his eyes were crossing. Huck stared at the wheelchair. How was this going to work?

  She cocked her head.

  He scooted to the edge of the bed, swallowing curses. His good leg wouldn’t hold him steady as he tried to stand, and he dropped back onto the bed. Arianne rushed to his side and tucked her little body beneath his arm.

  “I’m not helpless.” He bit down the rest of his growl.

  She assisted him to the wheelchair anyway, her soft body pressed against his. “Doctor Reynolds has you scheduled for physical therapy in a couple of weeks. Things will get better.”

  Would they? He’d killed a woman. Which made his need to get closer to this one impossible.

  Gripping the wheel, he pushed forward and swiveled straight into his nightstand. Son of a gun. The urge to go was maddening, and he stared at the bedpan on his dresser. He’d fight a swarm of African Killer Bees, unarmed, before he’d use that thing with Arianne in the house.

  “Careful. Would you like to eat breakfast at the table?”
r />   He was starving. The spoon never would cooperate with his finger splints last night and a muffin only went so far. “Please.”

  She wheeled him from the room and down the hall. As they neared the bathroom, he grabbed the left wheel and jerked the chair to the right. The foot pedals crashed into the doorframe. Torture.

  “What are you—? Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Arianne realigned the wheelchair and pushed him near the toilet. Her cheeks flamed. She scratched her forehead. “Um, how are you…”

  He remembered the plastic urinal the nurse had put in his bag that hung from a nearby hook. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She crossed her arms. “Awkward, yes, but I can get you whatever you need and—”

  “What I need is a strong cup of coffee, so see to it, woman.” That’d raise her hackles, but if it got her out of this room, so be it. Another minute and his bladder would burst.

  Her lips twisted in a smirk, and she slammed the door behind her.

  Once his business was done and his vision had cleared, he maneuvered the chair to the door. It opened toward him, so until she returned, he was stuck in here. One thing was certain, these finger splints wouldn’t make him go hungry again. He ripped them off, tossed them in the trashcan, and glimpsed his haggard appearance in the full-length mirror. He looked as terrible as he felt.

  Arianne knocked, and with his permission, entered the room and wheeled him to the kitchen.

  The room smelled of vanilla and cinnamon. A smorgasbord of food lined the countertop, making his mouth water. She pushed him to the table next to Emma.

  “Good morning, Mr. Huck.” Propped on her knees, she fiddled with her pink bathrobe. Curly hair stuck out in all directions.

  “Hey, kid.”

  “Did you sleep good, Mr. Huck? I did. I got to sleep with Mommy. I really like it here.”

  He wanted to tell her not to like it too much, they would be leaving, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “Can I see your bees today?”

  Arianne patted Emma’s back. “Honey, why don’t you let Huck wake up and eat his breakfast before you attack him with a million questions?” Arianne smiled at him. “Coffee’s ready. Cream and sugar?”

  “Black.”

  She returned with a full mug and a plate piled with food. Huck picked up his fork, stabbed his scrambled eggs, and lifted it to his mouth.

  Emma placed her hand on his wrist. “You can’t eat yet, Mr. Huck. We haven’t prayed.”

  He glared at Arianne across the kitchen.

  She frowned. “What happened to your finger splints?”

  “I took them off.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I did.”

  “Men.” She spat the word and poured another cup of coffee into his favorite mug. “Don’t push yourself too quickly. Your body won’t heal and then—”

  “If I wanted to be nagged, I’d get married.”

  She scowled, stirring cream into her coffee. “You can’t push yourself too hard.”

  Ignoring Emma’s rule, he popped eggs into his mouth. “Appreciate the concern, Mom.”

  Emma giggled. “She’s not your mommy. She’s my mommy, silly.”

  “Well, she’s trying to be mine too.”

  Arianne’s chest rose with a deep breath and her eyes darkened. “Emma, say grace, please.” She tossed him a dirty look before bowing her head.

  The kid folded her chubby fingers together and shut her eyes tight. “Dear, Jesus, thank you for this food. Thank you for this day. Please, help Mr. Huck to feel better. I really want to see his bees. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Arianne mumbled, refusing to look him in the eyes.

  No one had ever prayed for him before. It was sweet, genuine. Too bad there was nobody there to hear it.

  “Mommy, can I play outside today?”

  Arianne swallowed her bite. “Sure, honey, but I have some alterations I need to finish up first?”

  “OK.”

  Huck chewed the charred bacon. He preferred it floppy, but wouldn’t complain. He was hungry enough this morning to eat the stinker out of a skunk. “Who’s running the shop for you?”

  “My sister.” Her tone was curt and she still wouldn’t look at him.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot you had a sister. What does she do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean nothing?”

  She rested her fork on her plate. “I mean nothing. She never went to college, she’s currently unemployed, and I’ll be lucky if my shop is still standing by the time I’m able to get back to work.”

  Her voice cracked on the last sentence. She left the table and stormed out of the kitchen, dabbing at her eyes.

  What was that?

  He looked at the kid. She held her palms up and shrugged.

  The joys of a female mood swing.

  ~*~

  Arianne cleaned the table, scooping stray crumbs into her hand. A cartoon theme song played from the living room where Emma was coloring. The girl was amazed by the 54” screen. Huck had insisted on spending time in his office, though she couldn’t imagine him getting any work done.

  She glanced out the kitchen window to the sparkling water beneath the footbridge. She had to pull herself together. Her emotions teetered between I can’t do this—my shop’s not worth it and Toughen up! Prove them all wrong. Huck made the simplest things difficult and was grouchy enough to scare away an angry bear. She didn’t want to be here anymore than he wanted her here, so why couldn’t they make the best of things and move forward?

  Missy running the shop worried Arianne the most. Sales were bad enough without adding her sister’s flightiness to the mess.

  A red sedan rolled into the driveway and parked next to the shed. Jude emerged and walked toward the house, carrying a pan covered in aluminum foil. She met him at the door. “Good morning.”

  “I see you survived the night.” Jude’s dark eyes danced. His weathered face bunched in a wicked grin. She guessed him to be somewhere in his sixties.

  “Barely. Coffee is still warm. Would you like a cup?” She stepped aside.

  “Sure.” He passed her the glass pan. “Haddock casserole, compliments of my wife.”

  “Sounds divine. Please, thank her for me.”

  “I will.” Jude followed her to the coffeepot. He took the mug she offered and poured a cup. “How’s the patient?”

  Cold air from the refrigerator hit Arianne as she slid the pan inside. “Cranky. It doesn’t matter what I do to help him, he gets mad.”

  She didn’t usually open up to strangers so quickly, but something about Jude told her he’d understand.

  He laughed. “I think I can help you with that one.” He took a sip and leaned against the counter. “See, us men don’t want to be the victim. We want to be the hero. I’m sure Huck doesn’t like having to ask for help. I know I don’t.”

  So this was all some stupid male pride thing? Men really were from another planet.

  “Don’t coddle him,” Jude said. “And just between you and me, if there’s something you want accomplished, it’s best to trick him into thinking it’s his idea. My wife does this to me all the time.” He winked. “It always works.”

  She considered this. “Thanks, Jude. I think I understand.”

  The clock read nine. Alterations for two bridesmaids’ dresses awaited her, and she needed to get started while Emma was occupied. “I better check on Huck before I dive into my work.”

  Jude put his mug on the counter. “Let me do it. We’ve got business to discuss anyway.”

  “He’s in his office. Second door on the right.” She pointed toward the hallway.

  Jude sauntered that direction.

  She rinsed out the mug and put it in the sink. Huck had suffered a loss most people never experience. He’d confessed that he only dated Giada a few times, but had he loved her? The thought bothered Arianne, which was insane. Not to mention disrespectful. Maybe she needed more sleep. Her new bed was like sta
ying in a hotel suite, and she’d forced herself to climb out of it this morning.

  So, with Huck she needed a different tactic. Strategy wasn’t her forte. Her life was proof of that. But if Huck wanted to play the hero, she could fill the role of the damsel. Though it went against her inner girl power.

  If all men would go back to Mars, her life would be so much easier.

  ~*~

  Knuckles rapped on the door. Huck brushed his fingers across his eyebrow. He wanted to be alone. Couldn’t she respect that?

  Jude poked his head in.

  Huck sat straighter. “Come on in.”

  Jude shut the door behind him. “Got a few minutes?”

  “I’ve got months.” Huck gestured to his leather office chair. “How’s the farm?”

  “Good. You run a tight operation here. In the end, you may be sorry you asked me to take over.” Jude dropped onto the chair and laced his fingers over his paunch.

  Humility was one of Jude’s best qualities. “I doubt that.”

  He gave Huck a long look. “How are you getting along?”

  “Fine.”

  The man’s lips curved, but he appeared to be fighting it. “Good. Seems you’re in capable hands.”

  “Hmm.” Arianne was capable all right. Capable of making this the longest year of his life. “How’s the missus?”

  Jude laughed. “Bossy as ever.”

  Weren’t they all? Even the little ones. He remembered Emma’s comment earlier about praying.

  “Sherry sent over her famous haddock casserole.”

  One of his favorites. “She didn’t have to do that. Y’all are helping so much already.”

  Jude glanced out the large window and shook his head. “She loves it, gives her something to do.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “Women like to feel needed. They’re built that way.”

  Not all women. Huck’s mom had been a taker, not a giver.

  “I know this situation isn’t ideal, but the fact is you need help—whether you want it or not—and Arianne’s willing to do the job. Be gentle. Women have these things called emotions. Make her feel needed, and time will pass more smoothly.”

  He didn’t need anyone.

  Huck scratched his chin. He did, however, need a shave. “What brought all this about?”