Honey be mine, p.1
Honey Be Mine, page 1
Praise for the novels of Sasha Summers
“Winter is so dreary, you’ll want to grab this one to warm up your heart.”
—Stephanie Dray, New York Times bestselling author, on Must Love Bees
“Delicious reading! Sasha Summers writes books brimming with warmth, humor, and the kind of love that lasts a lifetime.”
—Cathy Maxwell, New York Times bestselling author, on The Sweetest Thing
“A delightful summer, small town read, full of family love and drama. One that will leave you wanting to visit over and over.”
—Nicole Flockton, USA TODAY bestselling author, on The Sweetest Thing
“Sasha Summers is simply a mesmerizing talent.”
—Stephanie Dray, New York Times bestselling author
“Sasha Summers writes sweet, charming tales that are certain to warm your heart.”
—Lorraine Heath, New York Times bestselling author
Honey Be Mine
Sasha Summers
To Auntie Ann and Uncle Jeff—for inspiring me to follow my dreams and supporting me along the way.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
HONEY HILL FARMS RECIPES
HONEY SPICE BREAD
HONEY PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES
HONEY-LIME ALMOND COOKIES
HONEY ROASTED HEIRLOOM POTATOES
PEANUT BUTTER PROTEIN BALLS
HONEY ARNOLD PALMER
HONEY GARLIC CHICKEN
SKILLET SALTED HONEY APPLE CRISP
HONEY GINGERBREAD COOKIES
HONEY POT CIDER FOR ONE
HONEY BACON CHEDDAR SCONES
BANANA PANCAKE BITES WITH
ORANGE HONEY BUTTER
BANANA, ALMOND,
AND OATS SMOOTHIE
QUEEN BEE ROYALE FOR ONE
SAVORY TO-GO HONEY MUFFINS
CARROT CAKE OVERNIGHT OATS
CHAPTER ONE
ROSEMARY HILL LAY on the picnic blanket watching a ladybug crawl up a single blade of grass. The blade tipped, and the little bug reached out a spindly leg, searching. She held one finger out for the bug, smiling as its shiny red back parted long enough for wings to emerge so it could fly from grass to proffered finger. It was a perfect, quiet day, something she hadn’t had in a very long time. No deadlines or worries or expectations or responsibilities. After working nonstop for the last few years, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“You’ve been so quiet.” Tansy lay beside her on the blanket. “What’s up?”
Her other sister, Astrid, sat with her lap full of tiny wild white and yellow daisies that she was turning into chains. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”
Tansy snorted. “Yes, she does. We don’t keep secrets, remember?”
Tansy had always taken her role as the big sister seriously, especially after their parents died. She was the no-nonsense sister—eager to get to the bottom of things and make an action plan. Astrid, however, tended to focus on the emotional support first and the details later. As the youngest, Rosemary had been babied by them both her whole life.
She continued watching the ladybug crawl along the side of her hand. “I’ve only been home for a couple of days.” She glanced at Astrid. “Very, very eventful days.” She held her hand up, giving the ladybug access to the honeysuckle vine that ran up and around the tree they were picnicking under. Between her aunt’s perfect wedding, Astrid’s pregnancy announcement, and Tansy’s engagement, Rosemary didn’t want to dampen her loved ones’ spirits.
“And now we have a moment’s peace, so...” Tansy rolled onto her side to face her, propping herself onto her elbow. “Spill it—spill all the tea.”
Rosemary smiled. Tansy wasn’t going to let up until she got what she wanted. But she wasn’t going to make it easy on her big sister. “I have missed you.” She pushed Tansy’s elbow out from under her, causing her sister to flop onto the blanket. Rosemary giggled and sat up, scooching out of Tansy’s reach. “And you, too.” She hugged Astrid.
“She gets a hug. I get a shove. I see how it is. Fine. Don’t talk.” Tansy sat up, too. “Is there any more food?”
Astrid shoved the picnic basket her way. “Feel free to eat my sausage roll.” Her face pinched. “The smell is too much—” She broke off, fanning herself.
“Why did you pack them then?” Tansy pulled a sandwich from the basket.
“It sounded delicious when I was packing up our breakfast picnic.” Astrid shrugged. “Now? Not so much. But I have gone three whole hours without throwing up, so I’ll call that a win.”
Rosemary couldn’t imagine. “Poor thing.”
“Pregnancy sounds like so much fun.” Tansy eyed the sausage roll, shrugged, then took a bite. “I think I’ll follow Aunt Camellia’s lead and stick to dogs and cats and parrots and donkeys and...all that.”
“That sounds like a conversation you need to have with Dane. Your future husband might have an opinion on children versus an animal sanctuary.” Astrid turned the daisy chain into a ringlet and placed it on top of Rosemary’s head. “Perfect.”
All three sisters smiled. For a moment, they were little girls again. Astrid was making them all daisy chain crowns, Tansy would lead them off on some grand make-believe adventure, and Rosemary would follow along—content to be with them.
And she was. Content. She’d missed her sisters so much. Her home here in Honey, Texas. Her bees.
“I wonder if all that will go to Van’s place with Camellia.” Astrid started making another daisy chain. “Is it bad to admit I’m having a really hard time picturing that?”
“What? Not seeing Aunt Camellia in the kitchen every morning? It seems...wrong. I mean, it is her kitchen. Right here. At Honey Hill Farms.” Tansy took a slightly more aggressive bite, the dangly bee earrings she wore shaking. “Her home.”
Rosemary had been pondering the same thoughts since she’d arrived three days before. Honey Hill Farms was only as magical as it was because of the people who lived there. Well, and the bees, of course. Her aunts, Camellia and Magnolia, were the heart and soul of the farm and the sisters’ rock. They’d stepped up when the girls were young, giving them the unconditional love, guidance, and space to grow up free and strong. Rosemary liked to think the aunts had been successful. She and her sisters were all incredibly capable young women.
At least, she’d thought she was. Now... The last few months proved she still had a lot to learn.
“Life is all about change. And making the best of things.” Rosemary nibbled on the inside of her lip. That’s what she needed to do now—make the best of things. And letting go of what had happened between her and Dr. James Voigt.
Just thinking about him had her throat constricting and her stomach in knots. She had no one to blame but herself, really. She’d been too dazzled to see the truth. Dr. James Voigt, expert entomologist and melittologist, had been her mentor. She’d trusted him. Why would she have suspected him for the lying thief that he was? There was a very real chance his renowned “genius” had been stolen from some other too-eager and naïve research assistants. Someone like her—focused on making important discoveries and incorporating them into practical applications for beekeepers and others in the apiology field. She blew a long strand of hair from her face and pushed down the mix of anger and frustration she’d been fighting for the last couple of weeks. There was no point in being upset. It was done and over with, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“You’re making that face.” Astrid reached over and took her hand. “The one you used to make back in high school when Libby or Kate had been extra mean to you.” She frowned.
“Why ruin a perfectly lovely day by bringing either of them up?” Rosemary no longer woke up dripping sweat when one of her high school tormentors entered her dreams, but she did avoid thinking about them—if possible.
“Sorry. That was below the belt.” Astrid sighed. “But you really can tell us what’s going on. It might make you feel better.”
“We’re here for you.” Tansy took her other hand and gave it a solid squeeze.
“I’m just...” Rosemary mumbled to a stop. She loved her sisters dearly. Out of the whole world, they’d always been here for her. But it felt wrong to come home and dump her problems—her mistakes—on her sisters. “There’s so much good stuff happening, I’m just soaking it all up. The sunshine. Being here. With you.” She tilted her face to the sky, the heat of the Texas sun instantly warming her cheeks.
“And?” Tansy pushed. “We’re your big sisters, Rose. We know you. I know when you’ve got a secret—just like I know when Astrid’s telling a fib. Like Astrid said, it’s all right there.” She pointed at Rosemary’s face.
“Maybe she’s not ready to share.” Astrid patted her hand and went back to making daisy chains.
Rosemary was fully aware that they w
Astrid and Tansy kept right on staring at her.
“The project lost funding.” She let out a slow breath.
“Oh, Rosemary.” Astrid let the daisies fall into her lap, her expression pained. “I’m so sorry.”
“Which means I’m out of a job.” She plucked at a blade of grass. “At loose ends.”
“Wait. You mean, you’re not leaving? You’re staying?” Astrid’s grip tightened on her hand. “Here? Home? With us?” Her smile was bright and oh so happy.
“For now.” Rosemary squeezed her hand back. Astrid had always been the one to see the bright side of things.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be smiling.” Astrid’s attempt not to smile was an utter failure. “I am sorry the project is over, but I’m not sorry you’re back home. I’ve missed you. We’ve missed you.” She glanced at Tansy.
Tansy nodded. “I’m sure someone will snap you up for another project soon. You were working with one of the field’s experts. Your work won’t go unnoticed, Rosemary. Don’t worry.”
“Well...” She took a deep breath. “The thing is, my research wasn’t...exactly...attributed to me.”
There was a stretch of silence.
“What?” Tansy murmured. “What are... Wait. Is Dr. Voigt taking credit for your work?”
“But he can’t do that.” Astrid shook her head, her long strawberry blonde hair shimmying.
“He can, and he is.” Rosemary shrugged. “He literally pulled everything off the shared server and deleted all the working copies—right before the rest of us learned the project hadn’t received continued funding.”
Tandy’s face went scarlet. “What a complete and total di—”
“How awful,” Astrid said. “There has to be someone, anyone, you can tell about this?”
“Not really. He is the Dr. James Voigt—a renowned expert in our industry. I’m a postgrad research assistant with no significant independent credits or discoveries to my name. Why would anyone listen? Or believe me anyway?” She blinked, ignoring the sting in her eyes. “Honestly, I feel like such an idiot for trusting him.” She shook her head, refusing to shed any more tears over the situation. “I just need to figure out what to do next.”
Tansy was all but fuming. “But, Rose, you need to know—”
“Please, Tansy, let it go.” Rosemary added an extra, “Please,” for good measure.
“It’s just that—”
“No. Really. I’d rather not talk about it or him anymore.”
There was another stretch of silence—heavier this time.
“There’s a lot I can do here. The bees, of course. I’ve missed so much.” Rosemary smiled at her sisters, eager to change the subject. She looked at Tansy. “I mean, Dane is no longer the villain. That’s huge.” She turned to Astrid. “And I barely know Charlie and the girls. Your husband, which is so weird to say, and stepdaughters.”
Astrid squeezed her hand again. “They’re delightful. And easy to love.”
“The girls are, yes. But Charlie’s a little...” Tansy paused, tapping her pointer finger to her chin. “Quiet? Prickly? Awkward? Um...”
“Shy.” Astrid frowned. “Not everyone has a big, loud, and loving family like us. It’s a lot to take in—a lot to get used to.”
“Whatever.” Tansy rolled her eyes. “He thinks Astrid is the sun and the moon and the center of the universe, so he’s growing on me.”
“Oh, I picked up on that much.” Rosemary grinned. “All you have to do is look at him to know that.” And she’d been instantly won over by Charlie Driver’s obvious adoration for her sister. He was quiet and reserved, yes, but he was entirely in tune with them. And when he smiled, it was entirely because of Astrid and his daughters. “If that’s all I knew about him, that would be enough to make me like him.”
Astrid’s face lit up. “He’s...he’s... Well, I love him so much.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Tansy rolled her eyes again.
“Really?” Rosemary pointed at Tansy. “You, who can’t keep your hands off Dane Knudson? Or lips.” She laughed. “I’m gone a couple of years, and I come back to find one sister canoodling with her nemesis and the other sister married and pregnant. Not to mention Aunt Camellia marrying Van. Is there something in the water? Maybe I need to drink bottled water?”
“Oh, please.” But Tansy was laughing, too.
“What’s wrong with falling in love and being happy?” Astrid shrugged, pressing one hand to her stomach. “I, for one, am blissfully happy.”
“When you’re not throwing up.” Tansy wrinkled up her nose.
“When I’m not throwing up.” Astrid sighed, working quickly on the next daisy chain. “Oh, wait. Total change of topic here, but...” She set the daisy chain aside and pointed at the picnic basket. “I didn’t know if you two had seen today’s paper? In the basket. I can only imagine how it’s going to go over with the gossips.”
“Well, now I’m curious.” Tansy leaned forward, moved a few things around, then pulled out the paper. “What... Ohmygawd. Everett?” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “This is...”
“Everett?” Rosemary perked up. Everett Taggert was her onetime best friend. They’d kept up by video chats for the first couple of years she was in California. Over time, more and more time passed between conversations. But this last year or so, things had been so chaotic, they hadn’t spoken. And she’d missed him. She’d expected to see him at her aunt’s wedding—but he hadn’t come.
“Look.” Tansy turned the paper so Rosemary could see.
There, on the front page of the Hill Country Gazette, was Everett’s picture. He looked handsome. That familiar smile. The thick overlong hair that fell forward onto his forehead. The crinkles at the corners of his dark eyes. He’d always had one of the warmest smiles. He looked good... But the headline of the article was not. “‘Honey’s Future Looks Bright—Thanks to Lewis County’s Most Eligible Bachelor,’” Rosemary read aloud, in shock.
“Poor Everett.” Tansy was laughing hard. “He is going to get so much grief for this.”
“The article does praise him for all his hard work as the county parks and recreation director.” Astrid went back to her daisy chain. “How committed he is to honoring all the communities’ traditions while finding ways to drum up new tourism opportunities. Mayor Contreras says some really nice things, too. Once you get past the headline, the article is great.”
“If you get past the headline.” Rosemary shook her head.
“Oh no, it’s not just the headline. They mention he’s single in the article, too. Once. Or twice. Honestly, it’s equal parts praise for his work ethic and ingenuity and...how handsome and available he is. Along the lines of, whoever catches him will be one lucky lady sort of thing.” Astrid frowned.
Rosemary was mortified on Everett’s behalf.
“They’re really trying to revitalize the paper. They’ve been doing a monthly highlight on the people that serve the county and towns.” Tansy’s laughter was dying off. “I guess they thought going more sensational would help boost sales?”
This might boost paper sales, but at what cost? Small towns loved gossip. The juicier, the better. Not to mention that the eligible-bachelor thing undermined any and all of Everett’s accolades that might be listed in this article. Poor Everett. She’d reach out to him. Something told her they’d both benefit from a mutual pep talk.
* * *
“YOU SAID THE equipment had been shot up?” Everett Taggert wasn’t sure whether to be amused or really pissed off. It was fair to say he was feeling both.
“Well, isn’t it?” Dennis Hobart, mayor of Alpine Springs, gestured to the relatively new exercise stations currently speckled with bright green and pink paint.
“Being shot up and being used as paintball targets are...very different things.” Everett crouched, eyeing the splatter marks, and took a deep breath.
“It’s still vandalism, isn’t it? A crime has been committed here, am I right?” The man put his hands on his hips. “Everything was shot up—by a paint gun.”
