Chapter Ten
“Hey, Dr. Daniel! We have an argument we need you to settle. It’s about the Woodsman’s version of ‘Babes in the Woods.’”
An older couple strolled toward him on the meandering path where he and Jamie were working. They were regulars who had been coming to the mountain since he was a child.
“How are you, Myrna? Hal?”
“Wonderful. This place is working its usual magic,” Hal replied. “Hello there, Jamie.”
Jamie waved the scoop she was using to dip out sunflower seeds.
“You must know every story he ever told by heart,” Myrna said. “We’ve been trying to remember what happened to the nasty stepmother in his version.”
Daniel smiled. Pops’ version of Hansel and Gretel was a cautionary tale about being good stewards of the land, as well as eating healthy food.
“There are those who say the witch found the wicked stepmother wandering in the woods. She’d become so fat from eating all the processed cakes and sweets she had stolen from the children, that the witch popped her right into the oven without any need to fatten her up.”
Jamie had to chime in. “And when the old witch ate her, she got the—”
“Jamie.” Daniel cut her off before she could describe the witch’s intestinal complaints.
Myrna laughed.
“So are you planning to take over the Woodsman’s plant walks?” Hal asked.
Daniel saw Myrna shush her husband and felt guilty. It had almost been a year since Pops’ death. Maybe it was time.
“I’ve been thinking about giving it a try,” Daniel said. “It won’t be the same, but—”
“Good! Good! See, I told you Myrna,” Hal exclaimed.
Myrna smiled indulgently at her husband, then touched Daniel’s shoulder. “I’ve heard your bee tales. No one will ever fill his shoes, but I think you’ll do a fine job of walking in his footprints,” she said.
Jamie nodded solemnly. “He had big feet,” she said.
“That he did,” Daniel said as they walked away. “Thanks.”
Jamie continued filling the bird feeder, and Daniel considered just how big those footprints were.
“Nick told me about the yearling bear and the black snakes you ran into while you were putting out the bait hives,” Daniel said after a few moments. “Any other excitement?”
Jamie handed him the scoop. “Nope.”
Daniel shook his head. After hearing Nick’s version of their adventures this morning, he had expected some wild stories from Jamie, told at her usual rapid-fire pace and full of mountain wit and humor, but she seemed a bit subdued today.
Nick, being a reformed city boy, could make some of his most mundane encounters in the woods sound hysterical. Daniel hadn’t laughed so hard in a long while.
And laughing reminded him of Mel. She’d made him laugh, and eat a lampredotto, and think about something besides the darkness inside his head. He knew logically he should keep her at arm’s length, but Grace had been so enthused about meeting her that he’d been reluctant to object.
“Did Mr. Nick tell ya the new apiary up at the old Taggart place—I mean the old home place—is near finished?” Jamie frowned for a moment, but her smile quickly returned.
It would be a while before any of them would forget what the Taggarts had taken from them.
Renovating the old home place was Grace’s way of chasing their darkness out of the hollow.
“You should see the bee garden and the new pond and all the plantings and the gazebo and the house and the bridge. It’s a wonder!
” Jamie said as she finished pouring the seed.
“It’s gonna be a busy year for you, ain’t—isn’t it?
What with the new apiary and all the bait hives and that new stuff Dr. Grace is making ta feed ’em with and how healthy yours are.
” She finally took a breath. “Lots an’ lots of work. ”
“It means the bees are thriving. That’s a good thing,” Daniel replied.
Jamie stopped pouring. “We have two ready to swarm. I think.”
“Really? That’s great.”
“Yep.” She pointed to the bucket of thistle seed on his cart as she trotted to the next feeder. He pushed the cart after her and handed her a scoop of the delicate black seed.
“In a few days. But I might be wrong.”
“We’ll check tomorrow. You can show me why you believe they’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“I heard you were really enjoying your new tablet,” Daniel said.
She chewed her bottom lip as she opened the feeder and only said, “Uh-huh.”
Frowning, he wondered if he had said or done something to shut down her usual talkative spirit.
He looked at her closely. Maybe he should say something about her new clothes.
Instead of her usual grubby jeans and T-shirt, she was wearing a gardener’s apron tied over a colorful, almost frilly top and khaki pants.
Jamie had gone through a long period during which she didn’t want anyone to treat her differently because of her gender.
Nick and Grace’s wedding had been the first time any of them had seen her in something besides jeans.
Jamie had looked nothing like his assistant beekeeper in her blue velvet dress and flowered headband.
Now she was embracing her girl power with enthusiasm.
But he would be on shaky ground if he tried to talk about clothes, so he returned to a safer subject.
“How’s school? Still blowing them away in math class?”
“It’s okay,” she said, frowning at the peanuts as she poured them into the feeder. “You think those nucs’ll come in pretty soon? I wanna be there when you install ’em.”
These particular nucs, or nucleus honeybee colonies, were Russian—a bee stock that was resistant to a particularly destructive parasite. Jamie loved to call them ‘Russian nukes’ just to raise eyebrows.
“I wouldn’t even think of installing them without you,” Daniel reassured her.
“Jamie!” Grace’s voice carried from the direction of the house. “Time to head home!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Jamie shouted back. “We’re all done!” She closed the squirrel feeder and replaced the bin lid. “I’ll get this back in the shed afore I go.”
She grabbed the cart handles and started to push it away, then suddenly let go and threw her arms around him. “It’s good to have you home. I hope you stay forever this time.”
“I’ll try,” he said. “You give your mom my best, okay?”
“Yessir!” She threw him a salute and trotted off, pushing the cart ahead of her.
Daniel headed for the house with Pooka beside him.
A few guests who were enjoying the cool evening breeze on the sunroom porch waved as he passed.
All the cabins had screened-in porches with hot tubs, but the west side of the wraparound sunroom had evolved over the years into a gathering place for guests, where Ouida held her twice-weekly cooking classes.
There was a daily breakfast buffet, a cookout on Friday nights, and board games and cards anytime it rained or snowed.
He saw Grace leaning against the porch, waiting for Nick, who was coming in from the opposite direction, almost unidentifiable under a layer of dust and sweat.
He waved at Daniel. “The drying shed roof is fixed, so you can mark that one off your honey-do list,” Nick said to Grace as he came up the porch steps.
Grace came over and kissed his grimy cheek, taking care not to touch him anywhere else. “I will pay you back properly after you shower.”
“Is this stir-fry night or Italian night?” Nick asked.
“It’s Ouida’s experimental night,” Grace said with an apologetic look.
Nick winced. “Great,” he said and disappeared into the house.
Grace pulled open the front door for Daniel and they headed to the kitchen. “Nick has a phobia about tofu.”
Based on what was blaring out of the hidden speakers, Ouida was experimenting with her music as well, trying out some Italian opera. Quite a change from her usual country music.
“This sounds more appropriate for Italian night,” Daniel said.
Ouida looked up and used a remote to turn it down. “Nick’s got me addicted to this Andrea Bocelli.” She tucked a silvery strand behind her ear. “He told me I needed some romance in my life.”
Grace chuckled. “So, what’s the experiment tonight? It smells great.”
“Philly cheese steak sandwiches and warm potato salad.”
“Steak?” Grace repeated, her eyebrows rising.
“Portobello mushrooms. Fake steak,” Ouida said proudly. “Grown in the basement.”
“This I have got to taste,” Daniel said, pulling off his gloves.
And it was delicious. Even Nick, who looked askance at the “fake steak” label, ate two of the sandwiches topped with bell peppers and onions in gravy, smothered in cheese on a toasted whole grain bun. The potato salad got raves as well.
“I think we can safely say this experiment was a success,” Grace said.
Ouida preened a bit, carrying in the dessert.
“Brownies!” Daniel jumped up to give her a hug. Italy had some great desserts, but nothing beat one of Ouida’s old-fashioned brownies.
Her round, wrinkled cheeks went pink. “I would have made them yesterday, but I had that cooking class to deal with.”
He wrapped his mouth around the chocolaty goodness. “I hope Jamie got some.”
“Don’t worry. She went home with a bagful,” said Ouida. “I made plenty enough to fill up your hollow legs and still have some left over for my picnic orders tomorrow. Now, who wants coffee before I head downstairs?”
Grace opted for herbal tea but went for the brownies with gusto.
“Speaking of Jamie, is there anything going on with her I should know about?” Daniel asked.
“Like what?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know. There’s something…” He tried to pinpoint what it was. “She usually talks nonstop about everything, but now there are some things she won’t talk about. And she’s dressing differently. Are they giving her trouble at school?”
“No.” Grace shook her head. “But not everything in here”—she pointed to her temple—“is coming out of her mouth like it used to. Lots of processing going on in that brain of hers.”
“Jamie’s just growing up.” Nick put a hand over his heart. “Soon there will be young men beating a path to her door.”
Grace tapped Nick’s arm. “Oh, stop. Give her time, Daniel. You’ll hear all about it eventually. Probably more than you want to.”