The Beekeeper's Daughter (Harlequin Super Romance) (11 page)

She leaned against the back of the truck and glanced
at Will. The notion of a future that might include him was appealing.

Will whipped off his hat, wiping his brow with his forearm. “That it?”

Annie nodded, her mouth too dry for speech, and tossed her hat and gloves in with the supers. She opened the passenger door and took out the small cooler, handing Will a bottle of water, and started guzzling hers while unzipping her bee suit. Kicking off the last leg, she stepped clear of the suit and, after another long swallow of water, poured the rest of it over her head. When she looked up, Will was doing the same.

“What I wouldn’t do for a swim about now,” he said, raising his wet head her way. With water beading down his face, he looked like a twelve-year-old boy.

The warmth that flowed through Annie had nothing to do with the sun. “I’m with you,” she said wistfully, mopping her face with the end of her T-shirt. She picked up her suit and threw it into the truck.

“Seriously, is there some place around here to swim? The stream at Rest Haven isn’t very deep.”

“Actually there’s a small lake at the end of it. Well, that’s what we’ve always called it but it’s really just a big pond.”

“No kidding? I walked along the stream quite a ways and never saw it. But wait a sec. I saw that pond from the top of the hill on the highway to Essex. Just before the turnoff to Rest Haven.” He climbed out of
his suit, splashed more water on his face and placed everything in the truck.

“How far did you go along the stream?”

“To that farmhouse that looks abandoned but isn’t.”

“Henry Krause’s place?”

“Made the mistake of wandering onto his property without an invite.”

“Did old Henry come roaring out with his shotgun?”

“Guess you know the drill.”

“He’s the valley eccentric. Since his wife died about fifteen years ago, he’s isolated himself more and more.”

“Him and his racing pigeons.”

“You saw the pigeons? He doesn’t usually let people get that far. Must be getting old.” Annie scanned the ground for any tools left behind and opened the driver’s door. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” He got in and, after Annie turned over the engine, said, “Let’s go for a swim in his pond.”

She glanced across at him to see if he was joking. “You serious?”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to get shot?”

“He’s harmless. Just a bit paranoid. Besides, he told me to come and visit his pigeons anytime.”

“No way.”

“Yeah.” He stared out the windshield. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

Annie turned her head, still trying to register the fact
that Will had apparently won over Henry Krause. She saw a man on horseback riding their way. “Bob McLean. He’s probably making his rounds. He likes to ride his land, then if he spots some problem he goes back for the truck.”

“A nice life.”

Annie glanced from him back to Bob. She knew the life Will was referring to wasn’t as romantic as it seemed, though the idea of riding horseback around your property must be appealing. “Well, it gives him the chance to exercise his horses and he can avoid using the truck, cut back on gasoline.”

“I was thinking more in terms of the peace of mind it must give him.”

Annie felt her face warm. She’d lived in the valley too long to be able to look at things from any perspective other than practical.

Bob rode up to her side of the truck. “Morning, Annie. Will. How’s it going?”

“Great. You’ll be getting some good honey this year, Bob.”

“The family will be happy about that. Sorry about the business with Danny.” He shook his head. “Boy’s got to learn to organize himself and finish a job. Anyway, he’s lucky to have the chance to pick up the course he needs for college at summer school. I hope your plans haven’t been tossed about as a result. ’Course—” he ducked his head to aim a smile at Will “—you’ve got some good help here. Even if he is a city slicker.”

Annie’s smile felt forced. She hoped Will didn’t object to the term. “Yes, I do,” was all she said, not daring to look at Will.

“How’s your dad doing?”

“Fine, thanks. He’ll be back in a couple of weeks, maybe sooner.”

“Knowing him, it’ll be sooner.” Then his smile disappeared and he leaned forward in his saddle. “Did you hear there was another fire last night? A place south of Essex. One of the firefighters was injured.”

Annie turned sharply to Will, who was staring straight ahead. Why hadn’t he mentioned the fire to her? Was that the firefighter Will would be filling in for? “No, I hadn’t heard,” she said.

“Not a lot of property damage, but the fact that someone was hurt changes things a bit, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said, distracted by Will’s silence. Why didn’t he speak up?

“Well, I’ll let you go. You folks look hot. See you,” he said, tipping the peak of his baseball cap and wheeling the horse around. As he and horse headed toward the pasture on the other side of the beehives, Annie let the pickup coast along the rutted path.

Unable to keep the question inside any longer, she half turned to Will. “Why didn’t you tell me there was another fire last night?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said, his tone casual. “Was that wrong?”

“Well, no,” she blustered defensively. “But obvi
ously the reason Scott Andrews asked you to work for him is because of the man who was injured. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He really was maddening, she thought. Just when he seems to be more open and almost chatty—for him—he pulls a number like this. “I don’t need protecting, Will. Even if I seriously thought this arsonist might be a threat to our place, I wouldn’t be scared about it.” She realized at once how silly that sounded. Weren’t people supposed to be frightened of threats?

His reply made her feel even more foolish. “From what I’ve seen of you, Annie, I hardly think you need protecting. I simply thought you didn’t need anything to add to your concern about your father and…uh…you know.”

She flushed at his less-than-oblique reference to their conversation last night.
I knew it was a mistake to confide in someone I don’t really know.
The talk ended there, until Annie pulled into the yard at the apiary. She turned off the engine and was about to climb out when he placed his hand on her arm.

“I was going to tell you, Annie. I just got sidetracked by other things.” His eyes held hers. “Let’s go over to ask Henry if we can use his lake or pond or whatever it is right after we’ve finished here. Okay?”

Did she really want to make an issue out of such a small point? “Sure,” she said, trying to sound indifferent.

An hour later she was driving behind Will’s camper
van and wondering if she was doing the right thing or not. Did swimming together after work cross the employer-employee line? She knew something was changing between them. Or maybe she was kidding herself to think they’d ever had a standard work relationship. Bosses don’t cry on their employees’ shoulders. Or go swimming in an isolated spot with an employee who’s attractive and sexy.

You’ve already crossed the line, Annie Collins, just thinking like that.

T
HEY’D AGREED TO PARK
vehicles at Will’s campsite and walk to Henry’s place along the stream.

“Give me one sec,” Will called out as he got out of the van. “I’ll get my swimming trunks.”

Annie climbed out of the truck and stretched. She was reaching inside the cab for her towel when Will stepped out of the van, wearing a pair of dark blue boxer-style swim shorts with a T-shirt.

“All set?” he asked, flicking his towel over one shoulder.

When he reached a grove of willows where the path widened, he waited for her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “When we get to Krause’s property, I’ll go ahead. I’m a bigger target.”

“Ha-ha,” she said. “I just hope for your sake he’s wearing his eyeglasses.”

“He wears glasses?” Will’s voice pitched.

Annie grinned. “Just kidding.”

“Have you ever swum in the pond?”

“Oh, yeah. Henry used to let people park in his
driveway and tramp through his field to get to it. That was when his wife was still alive.”

“Maybe after she died he couldn’t handle seeing other people’s happiness.”

She’d never considered that. But then, fifteen years ago her own world was falling apart. Maybe she and Henry had something in common.

“When I was a teenager,” she said, “we used to have bush parties at Rest Haven. It wasn’t a campground then, but the Waters family still owned it.”

“Yeah? I got the impression from Sam that it was a recent acquisition.”

“New to Sam and his brother, Mike. His father died a year ago and they inherited the land. That’s when they began to turn it into a campground. I’ve heard they have big plans for the place.”

“Some kind of exclusive fishing and hunting outfit. I don’t see it myself. The place is in the middle of nowhere. They’ll be lucky to get regular campers.”

“Sam will have to put in a swimming pool, too, because the stream’s no good for swimming.”

“What about the pond?”

“It’s on Henry Krause’s property and there’s no access to it except through his fields.”

Will stopped to wipe his forehead with the end of his towel. “Too bad. This stretch along the stream is the coolest spot in the whole campground. It’ll be great for trout fishing at least.”

When they reached the barbed wire fence around
Henry Krause’s back pasture, Will held it apart for Annie to climb through. They walked through the pasture, overgrown with weeds and wild grasses.

“Henry used to keep goats and sheep years ago. The farm was actually quite nice.” She stopped when the barn and rear of the farmhouse came in sight. “Mrs. Krause would never have allowed the place to go downhill like this.”

Will walked a few yards ahead of her and stopped, cupping his hands around his mouth to call out, “Henry? You there?”

There was no answer. Will signaled her to follow. She glanced sharply at the barn with its collapsed roof and halted at the sight of the pigeon coops. “I wonder if he’s still racing them.”

“Not anymore.” Will turned around to wait for her. “He said he has a friend on the other side of the valley and they send messages back and forth. That’s about it.”

She stared at Will. “You’ve been here less than a week and already know more about Henry than I do.”

“Hardly. Just that. Nothing about his past.” He cupped his hands and hollered again. This time, the screen door at the side of the house creaked open.

Annie squinted against the sun. Was that the barrel of a shotgun? Her heart pumped a bit harder. But when Henry shuffled out, his hands were empty.

“Henry? It’s Will Jennings. From the campground. I’ve got Annie Collins with me. We were wondering if we could go swimming in your pond.”

Annie winced as the old man drew closer. Unkempt and in need of a shave, he looked a lot older than his seventy plus years. But his face brightened in recognition.

“Annie Collins! How are you, dear? How’s your father?”

“He’s fine, thank you, Mr. Krause. How’re you doing? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Not since the day before you went off to college,” he said. “Still alive and kicking. I’m doing okay.”

She doubted that. With an unexpected surge of guilt, she recalled how she and a gang of friends trespassed one night as they went skinny-dipping in the pond. It was shortly after his wife had died and Henry had come roaring after them with his shotgun. Some of the kids had taunted him as they’d left. Annie had ducked behind another girl, not wanting Henry to see her and tell her father she’d been there.

He looked at Will, then back at her. “Well, you two go right ahead. The path’s overgrown, but I guess you’ll manage.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Will said.

As they turned to leave, Henry said, “Don’t forget to come around to visit my birds. I’ll introduce you to them. Every single one’s got a name.”

“You can count on it,” Will said, smiling. He waved goodbye and, placing his hand on the hollow of Annie’s back, gently guided her ahead of him out of the yard.

“Henry sure has changed.”

“Yeah?”

Although he didn’t say anything more, Annie had an idea what Will was thinking. Maybe she’d never bothered to look at Henry in any other way, except as the valley’s cranky recluse. She pondered that, along with the fact that Henry remembered the last time he’d seen her while she’d completely forgotten.

Will forged ahead, pushing his way through a mass of dogwood and bramble until he suddenly came to a halt. “Wow,” was all he said.

Annie joined him at the water’s edge. It is pretty, she thought, gazing out across the pond she hadn’t seen for several years. “When I was twelve,” she said, turning to Will, “I swam across this. Dad followed behind in Henry’s rowboat for backup.”

“No kidding? How far across is it?”

“Not very far. Maybe a quarter of a mile.”

“Far enough for a twelve-year-old.”

“I think there’s a sandy beach to the right, beyond that stand of willow trees.” Without looking back, she pushed through the undergrowth and came to a small strip of sand. By the time Will reached it, she’d already stepped out of her shorts and peeled off her T-shirt. When she turned around to see if he was following, she saw that he was watching from the shore.

“What?” she asked, puzzled by the odd expression in his face.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head.

Annie felt naked in her skimpy bikini. It had been an impulsive purchase in the winter, when she’d planned a trip to the Caribbean. The trip didn’t happen and she’d never had a chance to wear the suit. Back at the house, she’d considered wearing her demure one-piece, but some demon had prompted her to choose this. Likely the same demon that had convinced her that going for a swim with Will Jennings was an innocent excursion.

“Beat you in,” he challenged as he dashed past her into the clear bluish-green water.

She kept her eyes on his broad shoulders as he leapt out to where the water was deep enough for plunging. He was grinning when he came up, shaking his head free of droplets. “You’re not even wet,” he called out.

Annie waded toward him. “I’m one of those inch at a time people. And don’t even think about splashing. I hate splashers.”

The water was at her hips when she heard him say, “Oh, I’m not thinking about splashing.” His gaze rested midway between her neck and her navel.

She sank, submerging herself to her neck.

“Darn,” he murmured, grinning. “I thought you said you were an inch at a time girl.”

“Not when I’m being ogled.”

“Ogled? I think admired is more appropriate.” He began to breaststroke to her.

Annie flipped onto her back and floated out of his reach. He swam up to her, his head at her left shoul
der. “Admired? That’s a word used to describe a view,” she said, lifting her head slightly out of the water.

“I was indeed admiring the view. A very small bikini.”

She rolled back onto her stomach and swam farther away. But his front crawl was stronger than hers and he obviously didn’t intend to give up their little game of cat-and-mouse. As he caught up to her, he reached out and held onto her upper arm, preventing her from swimming off. Treading water, she was about to duck free of his grasp when he pulled her against his chest. With his free arm, he back-paddled, taking them closer to the shoreline.

Now is the time, Annie was thinking, to try to preserve that old employer-employee status. Or myth, she amended, as she lurched backward in the shallow water, landing gently in his lap. He was sitting on the bottom, the water level with his waist, and slowly turned Annie around so that now she was straddling his lap.

“The view from here,” he whispered, “is even better.” He held the back of her head and drew her face to his.

One last chance, Annie thought, as his mouth came down on hers. But all thought gave way to the taste of his lips. She placed her palms on either side of his damp face, holding it against hers. The buoyancy of the water tugged them gently apart and Annie clamped her thighs against his hips, flowing with him as he fell
back into the water. He raised his head just enough to keep it out of the water but not to separate their kiss.

Heat flowed through Annie from head to toe. She stretched her legs out so that she was lying on top of him, water rippling softly across her back. His arm tightened across her shoulders as the other plowed backward in the soft silt of the bottom of the pond until they were lying on the sand at its edge. Then he rolled her over onto her back, his mouth tracing a line down the side of her neck, to the hollow at its base.

Fire shot through Annie. She arched her head back, raising her hips up against his. He wanted her and she wanted him. But his hands unexpectedly loosened their grip and he rolled Annie off, to lie beside him. She didn’t know what had happened or why he’d stopped. She wasn’t even sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he had. All she knew was that the desire had ebbed away. For what seemed a long time the only sounds were their synchronized heavy breathing and the muted lapping of water.

Will finally sat up, passing a hand across his face as if wakening from a bad dream. “Sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. He didn’t look at her. “I got carried away.” His attempt at a laugh sounded more like he was choking. “Must have been the view.”

But something else had crept into her mind. “You said you were married….”

He looked at her then. “I
was
married. Past tense. It ended more than a year ago. Is that what you…?”

“Best not to tamper with the employer-employee relationship anyway,” she said quickly, with half a laugh.

“Your…
employee?
”

Tongue-tied, Annie watched as he got to his feet and made for the shore. He picked up his towel and began drying himself.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “We’d better get back. Work to be done tomorrow.”

The rebuke stung. She wanted to say something about how ridiculous this whole exchange was, but he’d closed up like the shutters on Henry Krause’s house. Annie scrambled to her feet and got back into her clothes without bothering to dry herself. He’d already headed off.

Her clothes stuck uncomfortably to her skin as she stumbled behind him. Her embarrassment quickly shifted to anger. Why was he upset with her? One minute they were about to make love and the next he’s not only rejecting her—he’s mad at her. None of this made sense.

When he reached the campground, Will turned for the first time since they’d left the pond. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something. She clenched her teeth and held her ground. No way was she going to make anything easier for him. But all he said was, “I’ll be a bit late in the morning. I promised I’d give Scott Andrews a call.”

Not trusting herself to speak, she brushed past him to head for the truck. She climbed in, slamming the
door behind her. Reversing, she caught one last glimpse of Will standing next to his van.
You are a complete idiot.

H
E STARTED TO CALM DOWN
by his second beer. The whole pond thing had been a farce and he blamed himself.

He’d lost control and, after the accident, he’d sworn never to let that happen again. Maybe it was the sun beating down on his back or Annie’s moan as she clung to him. But the sudden rush of memory—heat, smoke and piercing cries—was dizzying. He’d had to move away from her.

Then she’d made that “employee” comment. Was that how she viewed him? A hired hand seducing the boss’s daughter? Like some kind of B movie.

Will set the empty beer can onto the picnic table. He knew he was making too much out of it, but she just didn’t get it. She didn’t understand at all that coming to Garden Valley, connecting with her, had been like coming home, when you never really had a home before.