“WHAT’S ALL THAT?” Astrid Hill eyed the large stack of mail Abner Jones, Honey’s mail carrier, held in his arms.
“Supply and equipment catalogs, bills and flyers, and the usual.” He paused and slid the stack on top of the counter. He riffled through the pile and pulled out a glossy magazine. “And this. Bet you get all puffed up with pride.” He sighed, shaking his head.
Pride and awe, certainly. And yet, even though she was looking at a picture of her family on the cover of Beekeeping Monthly with the heading, “Female Beekeeping Family Success Story,” there was an air of disbelief to the whole thing. All of it.
“I bet winning the top honey prize was like winning the lottery.” Abner was inspecting the magazine cover. “Not that I’ve ever won the lottery, even if I do buy a ticket every week.” He chuckled and handed her the magazine.
“You never know, Abner. If you don’t buy a ticket, there’s zero chance of winning.” Astrid took the magazine and set it aside. It felt wrong to flip through it without her sister Tansy and her aunts present. Every time their honey or family was featured in a newspaper or magazine article, television interview or commercial for Wholesome Foods, they’d ooh and aah and get excited all over again—together.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Abner tipped his blue-and-white cap forward. “Give your aunts my best, won’t you?”
“Will do.” Astrid pulled a cold bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter. “You stay hydrated out in this heat.” She offered him the bottle.
His weathered face crinkled up in a smile as he took her offering. “Thank you. This will help.”
Astrid waved him goodbye, then leaned forward to prop one elbow atop the antique glass case—full of equally antique beekeeping supplies—and sifted through all the mail. As much as she enjoyed working in her family’s Main Street boutique, no customers with hours to go had her fidgeting. She sighed, peering out the large picture window. The bright summer sun shone down, and the trees lining Main Street cast long swaying shadows along the sidewalk. Breeze or no breeze, she wasn’t fooled. The temperature was nearing triple digits—the norm for the Texas Hill Country in mid-July. But, even with the heat, her favorite place in the world was being outdoors with her bees.
Her aunt Camellia was humming off-key as she worked in the jam-packed stockroom. Every time her pitch broke or she hit a note that made any nearby dogs howl, Astrid smiled. This was part of Aunt Camellia’s “process.” Humming and mumbling as she sorted through all the bee-centric bric-a-brac, beeswax lip balm and candle-making kits, and anything else that struck either aunts’ fancy enough to stock. Their little shop, a mere six hundred square feet, had become quite a tourist draw since her family’s honey farm, Honey Hill Farms, won the Best in Honey contest two months ago. The win hadn’t been about the blue ribbon or bragging rights. The win had come with a large cash prize and a distribution deal with Wholesome Foods—meaning Astrid’s family no longer had to worry over losing their ancestral family home or beloved bees.
Thanks to the win, Astrid’s family, honey farm and tiny shop had been featured in all the local papers, magazines, two commercials for Wholesome Foods—as well as being listed on their store website. Just yesterday, Astrid had taken a message for her sister Tansy to call Wake Up America for an interview. It seems a family of all female beekeepers was newsworthy.
Of course, the win had been huge. If they hadn’t won, who knew where she and her aunts and her sisters, Tansy and Rosemary, would be now? It wasn’t that she wasn’t eternally grateful that their home and future were no longer in jeopardy—she was. But all the attention from photo-taking tourists and reporters, podcasters and news crews were a little much for her. She preferred a quiet life.
She was braiding a long strand of her hair when she caught sight of two adorable girls walking past the shop. They appeared on the left side of the picture window, hand in hand, in deep conversation. She didn’t recognize them. Tourists, perhaps?
Both of them had a riot of dark brown curly hair. Curls upon curls. The older girl was tall and slim and wore a bright blue headband to keep her curls from her face. The younger girl’s curls had been pulled back and secured into a severely cockeyed ponytail. The older girl was holding the younger girl’s hand as if it was something she did regularly, steering the smaller girl. The younger girl’s free arm held a worn stuffed blue toy against her chest. How many times had her older sister, Tansy, dragged her and her younger sister, Rosemary, about as if they were just another appendage? While the older girl looked to be years older than the younger, they were definitely sisters. No doubt about it. When the older girl pushed open the door of Hill Honey Boutique, Astrid’s curiosity was piqued.
New people in a town the size of Honey were a welcome curiosity to Astrid. She had no desire to leave Honey, ever, but she loved hearing about other places and people’s lives beyond the flowers and bees and family that made up her whole world. According to her aunt Camellia, that’s why Astrid had never met a stranger: her insatiable curiosity and gentle spirit. Everyone likes Astrid. She’d grown up hearing that from just about every one she knew. Which was a good thing—at least, Astrid thought so. Her aunt Magnolia, who was far more reserved than her sister, Camellia, said Astrid was entirely too nice for her own good.
Either way, Astrid liked people. That these two were young and adorable and reminded her of herself and Tansy only added to her delight.
The older girl peered around the shop. She looked equal parts interested and confused. She adjusted her headband and pushed her curls from her shoulders, continuing to pull her younger sister along behind her while wearing a dubious expression.
Likely not honey folk, then. If you weren’t “in honey,” the supplies and equipment taking up a good portion of shelf space might look a little suspect.
Suddenly, the older girl stopped, her eyes going wide when they landed on Astrid. “Um...hi. We’re looking for Astrid Hill.”
Which was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “You’ve found her. I’m Astrid.”
“You are?” She blinked, exchanging a long look with her sister. “Wow. Okay. Well...”
“You’re supposed to be an ol’ lady.” The little girl seemed shocked. “And you’re not an ol’ lady.”
Supposed to be an old lady? “Oh...” Astrid shook her head. “Not really.” But there were times she felt a good deal older than she was.
“My aunt Rebecca—well, our great-aunt—said you were the nicest person in this whole town and we had to meet if we visited.” The older girl stepped forward, dragging the younger girl with her. “So, we wanted to meet you.”
Great-Aunt Rebecca? The only Rebecca in Honey, Texas, was... Rebecca Wallace. The eccentric old lady had been the Hills’ neighbor. She’d passed away a couple of months now and Astrid missed their frequent chats and visits with Rebecca’s bees. “Your great-aunt Rebecca was a wonderful lady and dear friend.”
“We never met her in person,” the older girl said. “But Mom read us her letters. Charlie, too.”
“She wrote long letters.” The younger girl dragged out the word long for emphasis, making Astrid smile. “Pages and pages.” She hugged her stuffed toy tightly.
“Rebecca did love to write letters.” Many a time, Astrid had helped Rebecca snap peas or shell pecans or with whatever odd job needed doing while Rebecca had read aloud from the letters her beloved nephew Charlie—these precious girls’ stepfather—sent her. “And she loved telling me all about you two.” She held out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
The elder girl shook Astrid’s hand. “Halley.” Her smile was shy and hesitant. “And this is Nova, my little sister.” She wiggled Nova’s arm.
“This is Scorpio.” Nova held out her stuffed star-shaped toy. A star with arms and legs and a very happy expression on its star face. “Scorpio says your store is nice.”
Halley sighed, shook her head and rolled her eyes—something Tansy would have done.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Halley, Nova and Scorpio. And I agree with Scorpio. I’m rather fond of our shop.” Astrid couldn’t help but like them right away. “What brings you into town?”
“Charlie has to work.” Halley shrugged. “He told us to occupy ourselves.”
“He works lots.” Nova nodded in earnest. “Lots and lots and lots.”
“That’s a lot of lots.” Astrid grinned at the little girl. Absolutely adorable.
“Charlie is our stepdad,” Halley explained.
Astrid nodded. She knew all about Rebecca’s nephew, Charlie. Mr. Charlie Adam Driver, to be exact. Rebecca had painted him as quite the gentleman. He’d sent weekly letters without fail. While Rebecca had doted on her only nephew, he’d ruffled more than a few feathers since his arrival in Honey. Astrid had yet to meet him but she’d heard plenty about the man. Mainly, that he was not very...neighborly.
Rude. Abrupt. Short. Dismissive. Those were the most frequently used descriptors. Having so recently lost his aunt, and his wife not long before that, Astrid couldn’t think ill of him. He was dealing with grief. The poor man probably wanted to be left in peace. Rebecca had mentioned on more than one occasion that her Charlie was slow to warm up to people. It was likely that he simply needed time to do just that.
“Is your stepdad with you?” Astrid peered out the window. She’d like to meet him and offer her condolences.
Halley looked panicked as she gazed over her shoulder. “Uh...no. I rode Charlie’s bike. It has a seat on it for Nova. She can’t ride without training wheels yet.” Halley glanced at Nova. “We’re working on that, though.” Nova’s nod was determined. “Charlie says the exercise will do us some good. Staying fit and healthy is important.” It sounded like she was repeating something she’d heard more than once.
“Don’t wanna get fat or lazy,” Nova added, shaking her head. “That is bad for your body.” She patted her stomach.
“Oh.” Astrid wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was for that. Neither girl had any extra meat on them and, even if they had, that seemed a tad harsh. More troubling was the idea of these two riding along the county road into town. Exercise was good—but not when it put two children in the path of a speeding vehicle or 18-wheeler.
“Charlie likes it when we essercise.” Nova was peering around the shop with wide eyes.
“Exercise,” Halley murmured.
“Me and Scorpio do sit-ups and push-ups and eat all our vegetables. Sometimes Charlie even smiles some.” Nova rocked up and down on her toes.
“Oh.” Astrid repeated. Smiling was a rarity? This didn’t sound a thing like the man who’d written weekly, albeit dry, letters to Rebecca.
“What’s this?” Halley asked, cautiously holding up a frame grip.
“It’s a beekeeper’s tool.” Astrid showed Halley how to use the handle to release the pincher-like tool. “A frame grip. When you open a beehive to check on the bees and honey, you use this to very gently grip the edge of a frame and pull it free from the hive box to inspect the bees and...” She got the feeling they had no idea what she was talking about. “Everything.”
Both girls were frowning at the slightly ominous-looking tool.
“You don’t have to use it, though. Your hands work just fine—as long as you’re careful.” This eased their alarmed expressions somewhat. She tended to get excited and chatter away over bees. Working here, she’d learned it was best to presume a person knew nothing about beekeeping or bees in the beginning. If they did have some knowledge, a refresher couldn’t hurt them. If they didn’t, then they might learn something new. Of course, there were those that wanted to come in, put on the beekeeper’s netted hat for a few pictures and leave, but Astrid never missed an opportunity to be a bee ambassador. “Have you ever seen a beehive?”
Both girls shook their heads.
Bee novices were her favorite. It meant she had the chance to turn them into bee lovers—something the world needed more of. She accepted that just because she was ridiculously enthusiastic about her love of bees didn’t mean others would feel the same way. “Would you like to? Do you have any interest in bees?”
“Bee’s sting.” Nova hugged her slightly dingy star toy close. “That hurts.”
“I don’t know.” Halley shrugged, eyeing one of the long L hive tools hanging on the rack with open skepticism. “Some of this stuff looks like it could be in a scary movie.”
“Halley likes hairy movies.” Nova lowered her voice and leaned closer.
“Scary and horror,” Halley translated.
Which makes perfect sense.
Nova kept going. “I watched one, too.” She held up one finger. “I wasn’t supposed to but I hid. It was so icky.” She hugged her toy closer. “I don’t like those hairy movies.”
“I admit, I’ve only seen one or two myself.” Astrid couldn’t stop smiling. “The tools all have a practical use. And none of them are scary, I promise.” She thought she saw a glimmer of interest on Nova’s face. “What if I told you I could show you a beehive and bees without you getting stung?” Astrid waited, hoping they’d say yes.
“On TV?” Nova shook her head. “Charlie says too much TV will give you headaches. Or make your eyes go bad. Or rot your brains out.”
Astrid stopped herself from saying another “Oh.” This time she said, “I see.” Then hurried on to say, “Not on the television. On an observation deck. You stand behind a screen wall to see the bees but they can’t sting you.”
“I guess that sounds okay.” Halley shrugged. Clearly, she wasn’t sold on the idea.
“Can you see the stars there, too?” Nova asked, holding up her toy. “Momma says obversation decks are the best place to lay and stare up at all the stars in the sky.”
“Observation,” Halley murmured.
“Obversation.” Nova nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“It’s a different sort of observation deck. But I can lie on a blanket and stare up at the stars for hours and hours. Especially on a clear night. There’s no bigger night sky than the one here in Honey.”
“It’s the same sky all over.” Nova frowned. “Isn’t it?”
Astrid giggled. “It is, you’re right. I mean it feels bigger. There aren’t any lights to dim their sparkle. Like there are in the city.” Not that she had any personal experience with city night skies.
“I miss the city.” Halley sounded downright mournful. “There is nothing to do here. Nothing. And there’s no one to talk to. I miss my friends, you know?” She swallowed.
Astrid understood exactly how Halley felt. Her best friends had always been her sisters. When Rosemary had moved to the other side of the country for school, she and Tansy had missed her desperately—but they still had each other. It took effort to resist hugging the girl. “How long are you staying?”
“Until Charlie sells Aunt Rebecca’s house.” Halley shrugged.
“I like the house. I like that it’s purple. And crooked. And I love all the flowers. Except for the rat monster, I like it.” Nova’s little nose crinkled up. “It could be in a hairy movie.”
“Rat monster?” Astrid paused.
Halley shook her head. “Nova has invisible friends.”
“He’s real.” Nova pushed back. “I won’t miss it when we go back home.”
Astrid was heartsick to hear the property would be sold. Things were just getting settled with the neighbor on the other side of Honey Hill Farms. Settled as in her sister Tansy and the owner of the neighboring farm, Dane Knudson, were officially in love and making all sorts of plans—the sort of plans a couple makes when they know their future is together.
Now the Wallace place was going to be sold? Rebecca would be so sad to know her little “slice of heaven,” as she’d called it, would no longer belong to the family. She and Clyde Wallace had met and married later in life and spent eight joy-filled years together. When he died and left the place to her, she’d had it another twenty-six years on her own. In that time, she’d come to savor the quiet and peace of her gardens and the bees she’d let Astrid keep there.
Rebecca had said some of her happiest memories were Charlie’s boyhood visits. Long before Rebecca had become friends with Astrid or her aunts, Charlie had spent time working in the garden, catching fireflies, studying the bugs and birds that resided on his aunt’s property. Rebecca had always been a big proponent for the outdoors.
When Astrid and Tansy had agreed to co-sponsor the Junior Beekeepers, Rebecca had eagerly invited the group out to care for her bees. In fact, the club’s upcoming summer service project was to build several new hive boxes to replace the existing ones on Rebecca’s property.
Oh, no.
A tiny bubble formed in her stomach. Tiny but nausea inducing all the same... Did Charlie Driver know about the project? Would he care? She knew Rebecca had told him about it in one of her letters, but that had been before the place was his responsibility so he might have forgotten. The Junior Beekeepers were counting on these service hours. Especially Benji and Kerrielynn—they were so close to leveling up their beekeepers’ status. There was no time to find another qualifying project before next month’s testing.
Don’t panic. She’d simply explain and plead their case. It wouldn’t affect him and she’d make sure they stayed out of his way. Surely, he’d be on board. Rebecca always said he had a good, practical head on his shoulders. Astrid would count on that.
“Well, who do we have here?” Aunt Camellia came out of the stockroom, her arms loaded with boxes of buttons, decorative bee-print ribbons, honey pots and other sundries they carried at the boutique.
“Let me help you, Aunt Camellia.” Astrid hurried around the glass-front display cabinet. “These delightful young ladies are Rebecca Wallace’s great-nieces. Halley and Nova, this is my aunt Camellia.”
“And this is Scorpio.” Nova held out her star. “He’s my bestest friend.”
“It’s so very nice to meet you all.” Aunt Camellia adored children—almost as much as she adored her pets, cooking and her sweetheart, Van Kettner. “I’m delighted to know Rebecca’s kin have come to stay.”
Nova shook her head. “For a visit.”
“Until Charlie sells the place.” Halley picked up one of the bee buttons. “These are so cute.”
“They’re some of our best sellers.” Aunt Camellia looked as entranced by the girls as Astrid felt. “I don’t suppose either of you like candy? I have some honey drops that are melt-in-your-mouth delicious.”
“I do, I do.” Nova let go of Halley’s hand for the first time, her whole face lighting up. “But...” She sighed. “Charlie says candy is bad for you. It can give you cavities and give you diabebes.”
“Diabetes,” Halley corrected.
“That.” Nova nodded.
Astrid wasn’t one for jumping to conclusions but...she was beginning to wonder if Rebecca’s opinion of her nephew hadn’t exactly been objective.
“I don’t think one piece would hurt you.” Aunt Camellia chuckled. “It’s only bad for you if you eat the whole bag.”
“Can we, Halley?” Nova stared up at her sister. “Please. Just one.” She held up her pointer finger and squished up her face, like she was waiting for bad news.
Halley considered her answer far too long. So long, Astrid began to worry this candy would lead to more trouble than it was worth.
“One, maybe.” Halley eyed the clear canister. “But, maybe, we won’t tell Charlie.”
“Deal.” Nova hooked pinkies with her sister. “One, please.”
Aunt Camellia shot Astrid a pointed look—one that said she was thinking exactly what Astrid was—before handing each of the girls a piece of candy. “I hope you like them.”
Astrid watched them as they both removed the cellophane, popped the candy into their mouths, and smiled.
“Here.” Astrid held out her hand. “I’ll throw the wrappers away.”
Halley handed the wrappers over. “Good thinking.”
For a moment, Astrid felt a teensy bit guilty keeping something from the girls’... Charlie. But really, it was one candy. One candy couldn’t hurt a thing.
The door opened, the welcome bell jingled and Astrid turned to greet a new customer.
At well over six feet, the man was broad and fit. He wore casual business attire, a pale blue pressed button-down, brown slacks and polished leather shoes. At first glance, he looked like a businessman on a lunch break.
Until the tension rolling off the man flooded the room. He was struggling. Not only was the overlong hair mussed—a contradiction from his put-together appearance—but his jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful. He looked tormented. Conflicted. His hooded eyes were fixed on the girls.
The man drew in a deep breath and a visible shudder shook his large frame.
“May I help you?” Astrid’s words broke the awkward silence.
He didn’t even glance her way. “I was looking for my daughters. And now I’ve found them.”
This was Charlie Driver?
“We only had one.” Nova’s eyes went so large they took up her entire face.
Halley elbowed her but didn’t say a word.
“Halley...” It was a hoarse whisper. He pressed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath—his jaw still clenched—before he ground out, “How about we get the bike into the car and head home.” He held the door open for them, the doorbell jingling again.
“Bye, Astrid. Bye, Miss Camellia.” Nova waved and walked to the door. “I would like to meet your bees, Astrid. If Charlie says it’s okay.” She looked up at the thundercloud of a man standing, silent, in the doorway and winced.
“I hope so.” Astrid smiled at the little girl. “It was very nice to meet you and Scorpio.”
“Scorpio says it’s nice to meet you, too.” She offered a parting smile, then walked outside to where Halley was waiting.
When Astrid glanced back at Charlie Driver, he seemed to be evaluating her. And he didn’t look the least bit happy. Then again, he didn’t look unhappy—or angry. In fact, Astrid had no idea what to make of the completely blank expression on the man’s face.
He left without a word, pulling the door shut behind him.
“What on earth was that about?” Aunt Camellia hurried to the front window. She didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was watching Charlie Driver carry the bike to Rebecca Wallace’s 1970 Buick Electra. He set the bike down, pulled open the back door, ran his fingers through his hair and attempted—rather forcefully—to wedge the bike into the back seat.
Astrid was certain there was no way that bike was fitting in that car. Charlie Driver, however, wasn’t ready to admit defeat. He pulled the bike out and tried again, from a different angle, and with an increased vigor that couldn’t be good for the bike. Or Charlie Driver.
“I can understand why people are saying he’s short on charm. I might even agree with Corliss Ogden’s assessment of downright rude.” Aunt Camellia shook her head. “He didn’t even bother with introductions.”
Astrid didn’t argue. One look at the girls’ faces and she wished there was something she could do. After all, Halley and Nova had come here looking for her because of Rebecca’s letters.
Charlie Driver doggedly continued to try with the bike.
“Poor little things. I should have filled their pockets with candy for later,” Aunt Camellia murmured, turning back to the stack of mail. “Astrid, look. Oh, my word, did you see this?” Camellia held the magazine out at arm’s length. “This will be going in the scrapbook.”
“I did.” But her focus remained on Charlie Driver, the bike and the two girls watching. She winced at one especially hard shove of bike against car door—and the way both girls jumped from the action.
The man was drawn so tight, there was a good chance he’d pop right here on Main Street. She could feel it, in her bones. She winced as he pulled his hand away, shaking it and flexing his fingers.
To Astrid, the entire exchange felt like a sign. He and his girls needed help. They were in a new place, knowing no one, and it would be hard to enjoy all that Honey had to offer. She could help with that. She’d take him some of Aunt Camellia’s delectable treats and see if there was anything she could do for the family. He might resist her offer, he seemed a proud sort, but she wasn’t one to give up easily.
CHARLIE WAS AT a loss for words. He’d looked up from his computer to see the girls sitting on the front porch swing and talking. They hadn’t exactly looked thrilled, but he could see them and knew they were safe. Safety, for Charlie, was a big thing.
Ten minutes later, they were gone. The only thing that had prevented him from going into a full-blown panic was noticing his bicycle was missing. He and the girls had discovered a series of paths across his aunt’s four-hundred-acre property a few days ago. He’d convinced himself they were probably riding one and would be back shortly. Except they weren’t back. The longer they were gone, the more anxious he’d become. After running every path on the property, he’d climbed into his aunt’s metal tank of a car and driven into town.
Seeing his bike, with both bike helmets swinging off the handlebars, allowed his lungs to fully inflate and his heart to resume a sort-of normal rhythm. He’d parked in front of the shop where the bike sat, waited until his agitation wasn’t so obvious and collected the girls. The thrum in his temple had yet to subside.
Now he was dripping sweat, trying to wedge his damn bike into the damn back seat of the awful mustard gold car. He’d yet to find a place to recharge his electric car so he was having to make do with this monstrosity. The bike didn’t want to fit but, dammit, he was going to keep trying. He bent over, turning the handlebar so the wheels would fit behind the front seat.
“Are you mad?” Nova stood on the sidewalk behind him. “About the candy?”
Her wobbly voice made him pause, rub the back of his forearm across his brow and will himself to stay calm. He slumped to rest his forehead on his arm. From this angle, Charlie could see Scorpio dangling from one of Nova’s little hands.
“Are you, Charlie?” Nova’s voice quivered a little. “It was one teeny-tiny-teeny piece.”
He sighed and pulled the bike from the back seat. He looked down at her, forcing himself to smile as he ran his fingers through his hair. “No.”
“He didn’t even know about the candy, Nova.” Halley sighed. “I did something to make him mad. Like always.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk at her feet.
He and Halley’s relationship had grown more fragile since they’d arrived in Honey. She barely looked at him. She had every right to be angry with him, but she didn’t get angry. She cried. A lot. Tears rendered him absolutely useless. He didn’t know what to do about it. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Their mom would know. Yasmina should be here to handle this whole teen thing. He wasn’t equipped for this. Not in the least.
“Prolly. You always do something.” Nova nodded, imitating Halley’s long-suffering sigh to perfection.
Great.
“What did Halley do, Charlie?” Nova whispered loudly—so loudly there was no doubt Halley heard.
Charlie swallowed. Be careful with your words. Yasmina’s warning echoed in his head—over and over. It took effort, a lot of effort. He wasn’t the talker. Words always tripped him up.
“Something really bad?” Nova asked.
“I didn’t know you two were planning to ride into town.” He eyed the bike, then the car, and wanted to throw something. Throwing the bike sounded pretty damn tempting. “It’s a long ride. On a road with traffic...” A dangerous road. Calm, stay calm.
“Halley wrote a note.” Nova hugged Scorpio close. “I saw it. She did.”
Halley was staring at her nails. “After I tried to tell you and you did your one-minute thing.” She held up her index finger—what he did when he was in the middle of something and just needed a few more seconds to finish the line of code.
“It took a little longer than I’d anticipated,” he murmured.
Halley went back to staring at the sidewalk but her voice wobbled when she said, “It was on the kitchen table.”
He hadn’t been looking for a note. He’d been too worried about all the horrible things that could have happened to them. They could’ve gotten lost or hurt or, he swallowed hard... The bottom line was, bad things happened all the time. He knew that. The girls knew that.
Not so long ago, a very bad thing took Yasmina away from them. Since then, worry had been constant. Protecting the girls had him by the throat every second of every moment of every damn day. As long as he could see them, he could keep the fear at bay. But that wasn’t the sort of thing he could admit to a thirteen-year-old.
“If my phone was working, I could have texted you,” Halley said.
“You’re always on your phone, Charlie.” Nova said in singsong, making Scorpio dance, completely oblivious to the underlying tension between him and Halley.
They might be spending their summer in Honey, but he wasn’t on vacation. He still had to work.
Halley’s phone was another source of conflict. In Fort Worth, she’d obsessed over friends’ constant texting and social media posts and parties and teen drama. Instead of doing her homework or her extracurriculars, she’d close herself in her room with her phone—especially after Yasmina’s death. That had been concerning. When he’d walked in on Halley cuddled up with some boy with patchy facial hair and a car, he’d been more than concerned. There was no way, no way, he was prepared for that. Halley and boys? No. Hell, no.
His reaction? Getting out of Fort Worth. He could have handled the sale of his aunt’s place from home or he could take the girls and attempt to reset everything. Plus, he’d hoped being in Honey would make life a little easier for him. Nova was Nova, she had Scorpio and was happy enough. Halley had yet to forgive him. If she knew her phone was acting up because he’d limited her data and turned on parental controls, she’d never forgive him.
Work was the only thing he had a handle on. His office had been amazingly accommodating since Yasmina’s death, but he knew better than to take advantage of that. There was no wiggle room with his work, none. It had always been that way. Now that Yasmina was gone... Well, that hadn’t changed. He took a slow, steady breath. If he couldn’t get the job done, they’d find someone else. He might be the best in his field but that wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t deliver.
“I have to work.” It was that simple.
“You work a lot, Charlie.” Nova hugged Scorpio close. “All the time. Even when it’s dark outside.”
Charlie didn’t respond. Other than worrying about the girls, work consumed him. If he stopped or let his mind wander, he’d get lost in this reality without Yasmina and that sent him into a tailspin. After almost twelve months, the realization that he was parenting alone still sent him into a panic attack. It made no sense. He wasn’t wired for this. He would—he was screwing this up. But he was all they had left.
“My job is important, Nova.” Charlie smiled at her—at least, he tried to. “But nothing is more important than you two.”
Nova smiled at him.
Halley continued to stare at the sidewalk.
Charlie wanted to get home, out of the sun, and away from the too-prying eyes of Honey, Texas. He wouldn’t be surprised if the occupants of every shop were watching them from their storefront windows. What else would they be doing? It was a quiet Wednesday, not that he’d ever seen Honey bustling with activity.
Everything moved at a snail’s pace. Everything. Even business. It was what he wanted, initially, but he hadn’t considered just how glacial Honey’s pacing was. From arranging the property appraisal to finding a real estate agent to list the property, no one appreciated his sense of urgency. Due to a health crisis, the earliest the lawyer could schedule Aunt Rebecca’s will reading was in two weeks—even though she’d been gone for months. With luck, his sisters would continue to stay disinterested in all things concerning their “weird aunt” and her “bug-infested” property. If they did, he’d sell, divide the profits amongst the three of them and go back to Fort Worth, their condo, a tightly scheduled week for the girls and real life—minus Halley’s stubble-faced boyfriend, that is. He hadn’t exactly worked that part out, but he would.
The faster this was done and over with, the better. He set the bike down and looked at his swelling knuckles.
“You can leave the bike here, if you like.” A woman stood under a store awning, shielding her eyes against the bright sun.
He’d been too wound up to care about anything beyond the girls. But now... He swiped the back of his arm across his head. The woman from the shop. Hazel-green eyes. Long strawberry-blond hair. Watching and waiting with a smile on her face.
It wasn’t a happy smile, though. It was sympathetic. Almost pitying. Too much. Which was akin to rubbing salt into his wounded pride. He didn’t like it. Then again, he didn’t do well with people. Especially those he didn’t know. He wasn’t exactly a people person.
“It will be safe.” The woman looked less certain now, glancing from him to the bike and back to him. “The bike, I mean.”
He frowned.
“Charlie,” Nova whispered, too loudly. “You look grumpy.”
Right. His gaze fell from the woman. According to Nova and Halley, he tended to look grumpy most of the time.
“That’s Astrid.” Halley managed to actually whisper.
Nova’s attempt at a whisper was a little quieter this time. “Aunt Rebecca’s friend?”
This was Astrid Hill? His aunt’s letters had painted Astrid as her peer. An older, eccentric, free spirit of a woman with a penchant for gardening, walking barefoot, and tending to and talking with bees. He glanced at Astrid’s feet. She was wearing sandals. For some reason, that was reassuring.
If he calmed down and cleared his mind, he might be able to acknowledge that he needed help. Fine. With a deep breath, he carried the bike back onto the sidewalk and leaned it against the shop next to her. “I’ll come back for it.” He forced himself to make eye contact.
“There’s no rush.” She was studying him, her green eyes unsettling this close.
Studying and judging, no doubt. He nodded, his mouth too dry to speak, and tore his gaze from her. Making eye contact was hard for him—maintaining eye contact was a nightmare. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. After all the years of therapy and self-help books, the eye-contact thing was still a huge issue for him. That, and touch.
“I’m Astrid Hill.” She held her hand out. “I suppose we will be neighbors for a bit?”
Great. He shook her hand, horrified by how sweaty and grimy he was. He wiped his hand against his leg—and realized his mistake. Now he’d made an even greater ass out of himself by wiping his hand off after they’d shaken hands. “Yes.”
She blinked.
“Neighbors?” He tripped over his words, but didn’t look at her. “Temporarily.”
“If there’s anything I can do, I’m right on the other side of the fence.” She sounded sincere.
He nodded, his gaze shifting her way as she tucked a long thin braid of hair behind her ear.
“Well, on the other side of the fence, down the trail past the little creek and beeyard. You can’t miss the trail. Rebecca and I dug up the rocks and made the path together. Follow it all the way and I’m right there. Rather, our house is right there.” She moved her hands, pointing one way and then the other. “Not me, just standing there. That would be weird. But I guess that’s obvious?”
Charlie went through her words again. Even if he didn’t struggle with conversation, he wasn’t sure he’d know what to say to that. He didn’t spend much time with people—other than Nova and Halley. His work was entirely remote so he didn’t have to worry about these types of uncomfortable interactions. Astrid Hill’s lively sort of rambling left Charlie...baffled. “Right.” It was a neutral response.
Astrid blinked again, looking a bit baffled herself.
“We should go.” And yet, Charlie found himself staying put—watching Astrid Hill’s expressive face.
“I’m sure you have things to do.” Astrid’s smile gave off an almost tangible warmth.
He swallowed against the lump in his throat and went back to frowning. “Yes, I do.”
“Charlie.” Nova’s impatience was clear. “It’s hot. Are we going?”
Yes. Now. He nodded, turned and opened the back door of the car. Once Nova and Halley were safely inside, he climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb. He thought he saw Astrid Hill wave. He didn’t wave back.
“You are so weird,” Halley murmured, staring out the window.
Charlie glanced in his rearview mirror. “I’m not.”
Halley was wearing her yeah right expression. “You were way harsh to Astrid. She didn’t do anything.”
“She’s pretty—fairy princess pretty, even. I like her hair. It was so long. Like Rapunzel.” Nova sighed, hugging Scorpio. “We made friends.”
Halley’s sigh wavered. “She was probably just being nice.”
Charlie agreed with Halley, but stayed quiet. The idea that Astrid Hill, an adult, would want to be friends with children was far-fetched. Especially children she wasn’t related to. Even then, there were no guarantees. He knew this because of the home he’d grown up in. Now that he was a stepfather, he wasn’t sure how to be their friend or their parent. He was failing on all fronts.
“She was so pretty. I liked her flowy dress.” Nova wasn’t the least bit fazed by her sister’s statement. “And Miss Hill was nice. Like Mrs. Claus. Only with colored hair.” Her big brown eyes met his in the rearview mirror. “She did give us each one piece of candy.”
Nova was incapable of keeping a secret. Charlie hoped this was a permanent trait—it would make her teenage years much easier for him. “That was nice of her.”
Nova relaxed against the car seat and yawned. She’d been having bad dreams and a rough time sleeping since they’d moved into Rebecca’s house. “We said thank you.”
The girls had impeccable manners. Yasmina had been a stickler about that.
“I did try to tell you.” Halley continued looking out the window. “But you’re still mad.”
Charlie took a minute. He had to. He spent all day writing and thinking in code. Words didn’t come easy to him. “I was worried.” Worried sick. “I’m not angry.” He was too relieved to be angry. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “We need to work on...communicating.”
She glanced at him, her lips pressed tight—like she was holding something back.
Don’t ask. He’d handled himself well, so far. But he wasn’t sure that would continue if Halley dissolved into tears. He wasn’t trying to make her life miserable, he was...trying.
Halley didn’t see it that way. She’d start with everything that was wrong today before eventually circling around to them being here, him ruining her social life, and how Steve or Sam or Scott was the love of her life and she might lose him now that she wasn’t there. Because of him. It was easier not to say anything else until they’d turned off the farm-to-market road and onto the gravel drive leading to Rebecca’s house.
“You have to work?” Nova glanced up at him as they walked to the front porch.
Yes, he had to work. He’d lost the better part of the day looking for them. Dammit, he’d also missed a call that he shouldn’t have missed. But... He slowed, took a deep breath and really looked at Nova. Her curly ponytail was crooked, her shoes didn’t match and she was staring up at him, focused on his answer. “I can take a break.”
“You can?” Nova bounced up and down, gleeful. “Can we play a game? Please.”
Halley sighed. “Not Monopoly.”
“Agreed.” Charlie could take a break, not the afternoon. “How about Clue or Sorry?”
“Sorry.” Nova went running into the house.
Charlie glanced at Halley from the corner of his eye. There were times, like now, when she looked so much like her mother.
Every time he tried to fix things, he wound up making a bigger mess. Yasmina’s girls were counting on him.
My girls, now. It should be the three of them against the world. But, most of the time, it felt like the two of them against him.
“What do you think of the town?” he asked, picking as neutral a topic as possible.
“The Hill Honey Boutique was okay.” Halley waited until they were inside to murmur, “That and the grocery store is all we’ve seen. I know you’re too busy to take us to look around.”
Charlie swallowed back his immediate My job is important response. The girls were important, too. He had to make time. “No. We’ll do it. This weekend.”
Halley didn’t look convinced but she gave him a slight nod before following Nova into the family room.
Most of his memories of Honey revolved around Rebecca and her place. In a world full of judgment and criticism, this was a sanctuary. If only he could tap into that now—the peace and freedom he’d had when he’d been a boy here.
Instead, he’d find something to do with the girls. Fishing or hiking or swimming at the lake, there’d be something they could enjoy together. He’d look over his schedule, move things around and make a day of it. But first, he had to play Sorry, get his bike home and try to reschedule the call he missed.