Chapter Five
Lewis
What a fool I was, but then I’d always been a grump.
At least according to my fathers. They were insistent that between my beekeeping and grouchiness, no omega would ever have me.
The omega in the shop who had been helping all the customers was amazing, and I couldn’t help but keep wondering if I hadn’t made a big mistake by leaving without the medicine he’d offered me.
It wasn’t even a question of money. He didn’t ask for any, but I could have insisted on paying rather than leaving without it.
He’d gone to so much trouble to bring me inside.
It wasn’t as if he needed my business, with the number of customers he had in the shop already.
Besides the fact he hadn’t wanted me to pay for anything.
Very nice of him, but I’d never been a charity case and wasn’t about to start now.
Particularly with my bear roaring inside me.
He rarely paid attention to anyone besides me, but he’d been right at the surface while I was in the shop and especially when we drew close to the omega.
Everything I experienced right now felt muffled through the headache.
My plans to make soup had gone by the wayside as well. I wanted to do it, but I just didn’t have any extra energy. The farm required my full attention on any given day, and if I didn’t take care of things on a timely basis, I would risk the bees not having the pollen they needed.
Since my first efforts to harvest honey, I’d experimented with growing various nectar sources for the bees in the hives. Everything on the property needed my attention, but I just wasn’t able to do it all while coughing my lungs out and with a pounding between my ears.
In addition to planting and watering and deadheading flowers at this season, I had grass to mow between the trees in the orchards, chickens to feed and tend—because that was the one thing I kept going of my dads’ farming that was not directly related to the bees—and, of course, the stand.
My first stand had been very small, more or less a table where I had to have an honor system a good deal of the time because I was still in school and only able to be there to man it after school and on weekends.
And while the honor system worked, for the most part, when my entire stock was a handful of jars, as it grew, I could no longer just put a coffee can with a slit in the top for cash to be deposited and check on it once a day.
The stand was open as much as I could keep it that way. I sold an array of honey products and even some cutesy merch that had been requested. T-shirts, hats, and knickknacks with my logo or other bee designs sold almost as well as honey. And it served the dual purpose of advertising my business.
If it hadn’t been clear before that I needed to hire some help, it was now.
I could barely keep up with the farm, making the honey products, the stand, and everything else when I was feeling great.
Right now, I felt as if I was running from place to place, trying to keep up and failing.
I loved being alone out here a good deal of the time.
It was peaceful, and I could let my bear out just about any time I wanted to.
All the acreage made a paradise for us. At first, I’d had a hard time convincing him to keep away from the hives, but over the years, we’d worked that out, avoiding beestings and loss of product.
Of course, he got some honey, but not by raiding for it himself.
Not an issue this week, since I couldn’t even raise him to grumble at me.
I’d been sitting here at my kitchen table with a cup of tea so long it had gone cold, trying to gather the vigor to go outside to the honey stand for a few hours.
My income was not so stable or grand that I could afford to miss much time there at this season.
The other day, the streets had been filled with visitors, most of whom would pass my farm on the way in and out of Oliver Creek, and many of whom would stop and shop. So…I had to be there.
The walk down the drive to the roadside stand usually took me a few short minutes, but today, it taxed me.
Aching muscles objected to the journey, and I had to stop and cough multiple times.
By the time I arrived, it was clear I could not work, but I was also too tired to make the trip back to the house, so I didn’t open the front window or door, just sat down on a stool and rested.
If nothing changed, I would lose everything.
A rumble outside announced a vehicle pulling up in front, but the sign painted on the closed shutters would let them know I was closed. Even if I could serve the customers, if they were shifters, I might be contagious, something I should have taken into account sooner.
Expecting to hear the vehicle pull away, instead there came the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path that went around the building and a rap on the back door. “Lewis, are you there?”
My bear stirred.
The omega from the store…the one who’d attempted to give me remedies. The one who’d had his kindness repaid with rudeness.
“Lewis?”
I couldn’t treat him that way again. Forcing myself to my feet, I opened the door to see him standing there with a large brown-paper bag and a thermos.
“Oh, you look…” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. I knew how bad I looked.
“Be careful. You might catch it.”
“I don’t think so.” He bustled inside and set his things down on the counter. “I work very hard at having a good immune system, gut health, and everything. But right now, we need to get you to your house.”
“I never get sick either,” I reminded him. “But this got me. You’d better run away.”
“As if.” He came close, following me as I backed up until the wall ended my escape. “Let me look in your eyes.”
“Please…”
“Hmmm. Just as I thought. All right. Can we drive from here to your house?”
“Yes, but I walked.”
“We’ll take my car.”