How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart

by Candice Patterson

  Daryl released a loud breath. “Nothing’s impossible. Each baby is a miracle and they happen every day.”

  Miracles. Huck stared at Emma’s framed drawing of his motorcycle accident. Did miracles really exist? “And he didn’t give any reasons why he left Missy a random inheritance?”

  “Marty was of sound mind, so I didn’t ask. But I do know he never stopped loving Karin. They kept in touch. Even saw each other from time to time. Of course there were rumors, but you know how those go. I can say he was never the same after she died.”

  Huck nodded, saddened his uncle was tormented by a life never lived. “Thanks, Daryl. ‘Preciate your time.”

  He hung up the phone and glanced around his office. In some ways, he could sympathize with his uncle. This house had been alive when the girls were here. Lately, when the loneliness threatened to devour him, he imagined rowdy children running in the hallways, a soft, feminine body pressed against his at night. The same body every night. Forever.

  Crazy. He’d never given a second thought to having kids. Or taking a wife. But his entire life overturned the first day he walked into Arianne’s shop. And it was time he told her. What happened from here would determine whether it changed for the better.

  ~*~

  Arianne admired the way Jack held a drill steady in his hands. The tool bit into the drywall and whirred. Then Jack dropped it into his tool belt like a Wild West gunslinger dropping his Colt .45 in its holster.

  Jack caught her staring at his profile and gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. Winked.

  He was amazing in every way, but something was lacking. A…a… She didn’t know. Maybe, a southern accent?

  Arianne frowned. This triangle was spinning her in circles and making her dizzy.

  “What’s wrong?” Metal clicked against metal as Jack dug around in his tool belt.

  “Nothing.” She smiled.

  He studied her a moment then went back to hanging her new shelf.

  She paced the room. The space might be small, but utilities were cheaper and the building was in much better condition. Huck had agreed to let them stay in the apartment until he and his business partner were ready to convert it into offices. He hadn’t liked the idea, argued that it wasn’t a fitting place for them to live and he’d help her find a new place. She’d countered that they’d lived there for three years and had survived.

  The drill zipped the screw into place. With quick movements, Jack attached the shelf he’d made to the wall. Arianne ran her palm across the perfectly level surface. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Arianne turned to Jack. There was no mistaking that look. Heat flamed her cheeks.

  He chuckled and pulled her against his chest. Her cheek rested against his soft flannel shirt. He smelled like cologne and woodchips. But her skin didn’t hum. “Valentine’s Day is next week. If you don’t already have plans, I’d like to spend it with you.”

  Arianne hadn’t spent that holiday with a man in years. She couldn’t help her smile. “I’ll try to get a sitter for Emma.”

  “Bring her too.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear. “We’ll keep it casual.”

  She relaxed into his strong arms. How long had it been since someone—

  The front door swung open. “Arianne?”

  Huck’s voice boomed in the doorway. Arianne jolted, tempted to pull away from Jack. She didn’t. Huck had never made any declarations, and probably wouldn’t, even though she suspected he wanted to be more than friends. Or business partners. Possibly relatives. Certainly not husband and wife.

  Huck’s initial grin faded to a frown as he stared at them, arms wrapped around each other. He swallowed. Then his back straightened and his face turned stoic. “How’s it goin’, Jack?”

  “Good.” Jack released her. “Just hanging Arianne’s new shelf.”

  Anger—or jealousy?—flashed in Huck’s eyes when he glanced her way. He blinked and it disappeared. “It looks great.” He walked toward the shelf for a closer look. “Did you make this?”

  Jack nodded.

  “That’s quality craftsmanship there.” Huck’s smile and stance revealed nothing, but Arianne knew him well enough to detect the strain in his tone.

  Huck shook Jack’s hand. “It’s nice of you to help her out.”

  Jack smiled at Arianne. “My pleasure.”

  Arianne clasped her hands together, trying not to choke on the tension in the air.

  Huck cleared his throat, removed his mask, and seared Arianne with a look of agony. “I came by to talk business, but it’s nothing that can’t wait. We’ll catch up later.”

  Jack bent and latched his toolbox lid closed. “No need.” He gripped the handle and stood. “I have to get going anyway.” He gazed at Arianne tenderly, caressed her face, and leaned in for a quick kiss. “See you later.”

  “Bye, Jack.” Her voice cracked, and she watched him walk out the door to his truck.

  Huck scratched his jaw that had sprouted a healthy day’s worth of growth. “Where’s Emma?”

  Arianne shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Making cinnamon rolls with Sherry.”

  The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “You and Jack looked comfortable.”

  She turned away and pulled the furniture polish and an old rag from a box. Ten minutes ago, her traitorous heart conjured Huck here. Now, all she wanted to think about was her Valentine’s date with Jack. After all, it wasn’t like Huck was professing any undying love. Her feelings bounced back and forth, colliding like a desktop pendulum. “What did you want to talk about?”

  ~*~

  Huck raked his fingers through his hair. It took all his self-control to stomp his temper when he walked in on Jack groping Arianne. How would that pretty shelf hold up with Jack’s face buried in it? He unclenched his fists and exhaled. That would only push Arianne away. Like Uncle Marty had suggested, Huck was wiping the slate clean. He had to prove to Arianne he was good enough for her.

  “I, uh, wanted to see how things were going.” At least it was warm in here this time.

  Arianne climbed on a stepstool and sprayed the furniture polish on the shelf. “You said we had business to discuss.”

  A lemony scent filled the room. “We do, but it doesn’t involve the shop.”

  Her hand stilled on the dust rag. Morning light pooled into the windows and illuminated the drops of polish hanging in the air. “Why do I feel like you’re about to deliver bad news?”

  He’d thumb away the knot she’d created between her eyebrows if she were close enough. Huck offered his hand. “Sit with me.”

  Arianne glanced at the shelf then back to his hand. She linked them together and climbed off the stool.

  He lowered onto a nearby stack of boxes. “Uncle Marty caught an extreme case of mumps during Vietnam. It hindered his reproductive organs.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I remember learning about mumps in medical school. Poor Martin.”

  “Yeah, I thought they had vaccines against that kind of stuff.”

  “They didn’t back then. The MMR vaccination wasn’t deemed safe and offered by the government until the early ‘70s.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a walking encyclopedia.”

  She grinned. “Not really. It’s that I’m a mom and I research what’s going into my child’s body.” She leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees. “How did you find out?”

  He mimicked her stance. “A friend of his, but his doctor confirmed it. He’d signed a consent form a few years ago giving his doctor permission to share his medical records with me. I didn’t know that until I called.”

  Arianne exhaled. “Well, now we know he’s not Missy’s father.”

  He placed her hand in his, palm to palm, and enjoyed the feel of her. “It’s not likely, but not impossible either.” Miracles happen every day. If so, he could use another one right about now.

  She looked at him for answers. Answers he was finally ready to give. He kissed her fingers, allow
ing his lips to linger. He itched to pull her into his arms and show her just how much she meant to him. This clean slate thing was harder than he thought. He’d never hesitated to charm a woman into bed before. But he wanted something pure and beautiful with Arianne. She made him want to be a better man.

  “Huck?” she whispered. “What is this between us? I need to know where I stand with you.”

  With a mouth full of cotton, he faced her until their knees touched, prepared to give her his raw heart. He had to before it was too late. “Arianne, I…”

  A cellphone rang. Arianne hesitated then stood, pulled the blasted thing from her sweatshirt pocket, and held up a finger.

  Huck gulped his words, tucked his heart back inside his chest. If that was Jack…

  “Missy?” Arianne walked to the window. “I can barely hear you. What? You’re where? What on earth are you doing in California?”

  Apitherapy is the art and science of using products of the honeybee for therapeutic and medicinal purposes.

  31

  “What are you doing in California?” Static crackled in Arianne’s ear. “Missy? Are you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  Huck stood and stepped away from the box he’d been sitting on. Arianne covered the phone with her hand. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  He waved to dismiss it and moved closer. “We’ll finish talking about this later.” He ran his fingers along her jaw, eyes so full of longing it made her blush. He turned to go, and she refocused her attention back to Missy. “What are you doing in California?”

  “Martin was stationed here in Monterey. I came to see what I could find out.”

  When the door clicked, Arianne knew Huck was gone. From the window, she watched him huddle against the wind, climb into his truck, and drive away. Arianne shook her head. “Missy, you’ve got to stop this rabbit chase.”

  A pause. “I’m not Dad’s.”

  Arianne stared at the headlights of a passing car and waited for Missy to say she was joking. When she didn’t, Arianne said, “How did you find out?”

  “I got the paternity test back yesterday. They tested the blood from his fishing hat. The results proved the sample to be human blood, and the possibility of being his daughter is so slim it’s practically non-existent.”

  Her sister’s words were as cold as the air outside.

  “How do you know it was Dad’s blood?” After all, he’d filleted dozens of fish on that trip.

  Missy sniffed. “Because you match it with 99.8% accuracy. I sent a hair from your hairbrush.”

  Arianne’s legs gave out, and she lowered onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall. The room turned black and fuzzy. She tucked her head between her knees. Breathe.

  Arianne exhaled. Inhaled. Lucy’s comment from the hospital that day resurfaced to haunt her again. How had everyone else known except her and Missy? How had they managed to avoid the gossip, the condemnation all these years? Arianne had only been seven when their mother died and coped by throwing herself into her studies and avoiding people, that’s how.

  No wonder Daddy hadn’t liked Huck. It all made sense now. “I…I don’t know what to say, Miss.”

  “I don’t either. I’ve no way to test Martin’s paternity, though it’s quite obvious. I guess I’ll never really know.”

  Arianne’s vision cleared, but the sickness in her gut continued. “Why don’t you come back home, and we’ll move forward from here.”

  “I’m not coming back.” Missy’s tone was as hard as granite.

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve never felt at home there. Even more so now. I’m staying.”

  “What are you going to do in Monterey?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s warm. That’s a nice change. Maybe I’ll get an apartment. A job. I’ve always wanted to leave Pine Bay. Here’s my chance.”

  Softball-sized panic clogged Arianne’s throat. “But Pine Bay’s your home. With me.”

  “You’ve played my mother long enough, Arianne. It’s time to let me go.” Missy voice broke.

  Tears burned Arianne’s eyes. “I don’t know how.”

  “You’ll find a way. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Miss?” Warm droplets slid down Arianne’s cheeks. “I love you.”

  A pause. “I love you too.”

  The phone beeped, ending the call.

  Arianne glanced around the mostly empty shop. The scent of fresh paint lingered in the room from the wall she’d painted a few hours earlier. Boxes stacked three layers high filled the back corner. Nothing would be the same without Missy. Who would keep her on her toes? Help her with an encouraging word? Bring her hot chocolate or coffee in the middle of her mundane day? Be the other adult body sleeping in the apartment to remind her she wasn’t alone in the world.

  She was being selfish. This was about Missy. Not her.

  Arianne brushed away the tears with her sleeve. Truth was she needed Missy more than Missy needed her. She’d smothered her sister since childhood because it helped fill the gaping hole inside. But it wasn’t fair to Missy. Her sister was an adult now. Missy needed to find her own way. So did Arianne.

  If only Arianne didn’t get lost so easily.

  ~*~

  Huck stared at the big screen in the upscale Portland bar, watching the Colts intercept the ball at the fifty-yard line. Their defensive lineman sprinted across the green, dodging one Patriot after another. The men at the table behind Huck pumped their fists and roared over the touchdown.

  Huck would’ve joined in, but his mind was 175 miles away with two blonde beauties who were spending the evening with his tool-clad nemesis. He’d come close to telling Arianne he loved her yesterday before Missy’s call interrupted. A part of him had been glad. Her half-empty shop wasn’t the most romantic place for such announcements. Only now, picturing her cozied up on the couch with Sir Fix-a-lot, he regretted procrastinating. Huck popped a fried pickle into his mouth. It turned to dust on his tongue.

  Lamar made his way back to their table and slipped his phone into his man purse. “Sorry about that.” He shucked his suit coat, rolled up the sleeves of his beige dress shirt, and loosened his matching—probably silk—tie. “When the missus calls, I answer.”

  The guy looked like every other big-city dandy in here. A room full of male socialites in a fancy historic tavern on Valentine’s Day made Huck nervous. Huck nodded. “Gotta keep ‘em happy. You sure she’s not upset about spending tonight alone?”

  Lamar laughed. “She’s not alone. She’s out shopping and having drinks with her girlfriends. Besides, she’s always tolerant when she knows it means more money coming her way.”

  Ouch. Huck had known women like that. Mainly, his mother.

  “I’ve scheduled a crew to start renovations in two weeks.”

  Huck nodded again and took a swig of his pop. He’d help Arianne finish relocating by then.

  Lamar’s voice droned on about construction and inventory. Jack better keep his hands off her tonight if he wants to keep ‘em intact.

  “Is something wrong?”

  It took a minute for Huck to register that Lamar had changed the subject. “I’m good. Just listening.”

  A basket of onion rings and a refill later, Lamar stood and stuck out his hand. “See you March first.”

  Huck pumped his hand. “See you then.” He paid the waitress, told her to keep the change, and stood to pull on his coat. A hand on his arm stopped him.

  A pretty brunette with hard green eyes and a wide smile fluttered her eyelashes. She reeked of money earned with dirty old men and cheating husbands. “Taking off so soon?”

  He shrugged away her grip and put on his coat. “Yep.”

  She did her best to change his mind with her pouty pink lips. “You’re not planning to leave alone, are you?”

  Her invitation was as clear as the cleavage exposed from her low cut dress. Huck assassinated the part of him that already had them leaving together, though it wasn’t easy. He was us
ed to women throwing themselves at him, and he’d always handled it the only way he knew how.

  He took a deep breath. “I sure am.”

  Huck zipped his coat in preparation for the cold walk to the hotel and stalked to the exit. He had a fine woman back home, and was going to make the right decision this time. He loved Arianne. Even if another man was keeping her company tonight.

  ~*~

  Jack braked in front of her apartment, and Arianne glanced toward the backseat. Emma was asleep, as usual. The air outside was frigid, and Arianne hated to leave the car’s warmth. “And they said Phil predicted an early spring.”

  “He can’t always be right.” Jack put the car in park, reached for her gloved hand, and laced his fingers with hers. He leaned against the headrest and turned to her. “I had a good time.”

  “Me too.” His body heat seeped through her glove.

  “It’s been awhile. Valentine’s day is always a little rough for me.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  “I really enjoyed spending it with you and Emma.”

  Snow flurries danced in the beam of his headlights. The street was dark, abandoned.

  Jack looked at Emma from his rearview mirror. “Can I ask what happened to her father?” he whispered.

  Shame burned her cheeks. She shouldn’t be ashamed, since it all happened against her will, but telling Jack made her uncomfortable, embarrassed. And after witnessing his wife’s memory stamped all over his house from the wall colors to the beadwork in the homemade throw pillows, Arianne knew if they ever pursued this relationship to the altar she’d have some giant shoes to fill. She swallowed and opened the closet door in her heart wide, so she could clean it all out now and wouldn’t have to enter it again for a good long while. Hopefully, never.

  When she finished the whole story, Jack nodded and folded his other hand around hers. “I care for you both. A lot.” He stared out the windshield into the dark night. “I wondered if I’d ever be able to open my heart to a woman again.” He pinned his gaze on hers, the dash lights highlighting the side of his face. “With you, I believe I can.”

  His words choked Arianne. Could she ever fully open her heart to him? She wanted that capability. Jack was the ideal man. But her thoughts always went back to Huck. They’d yet to finish their lets-define-this-relationship talk, and she was impatiently anticipating his answer. She was growing weary of spreading her emotions between two men.