If Not For A Bee. Carol Ross

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      Aidan kept walking partially to keep warm but also because the quaint town intrigued him. Rankins was small, but not too small. Comparatively, his field work as a botanist meant camping in the rain forest for weeks on end with nothing but a couple of tents and maybe another scientist or two for hundreds of miles in any one direction. Those conditions had a way of changing one’s view of “civilization.” To Aidan, Rankins seemed to have the right amount of everything, including a decided lack of one thing he tried to avoid—people.

      Food seemed plentiful, too, he realized happily as his nose alerted him to the fact that someone was serving up a hot meal. He hadn’t eaten since very early that morning, when he’d changed planes at LAX.

      Ah...the idea of being able to get food whenever he wanted—and not something freeze-dried that became edible only when doused with water. Living in remote locations like he normally did, he couldn’t always be choosy about meals, but it sure made him appreciate a good one.

      He opened the door to the Cozy Caribou and stood for a few seconds enjoying the delicious aromas assaulting his senses—bacon? Yes. And the yeasty smell of fresh baked bread...

      Emily had told him about this place, had mentioned that she thought he would like it. She was right; he hadn’t even sat down yet and he liked the cozy feel of the restaurant already—the smells, the sounds, the friendly faces. All of the faces in Rankins had been friendly so far. Well, except for Janie’s, and her son’s, and Lilah the forlorn baker’s.

      Aidan found an empty booth and decided it was a good omen that he’d already seen his first bee, even if he’d angered his...? What was she? His sister-in-law? No, but she was Emily’s sister-in-law. He thought about the episode again for a moment. He couldn’t think of a better way that he could have handled the situation. He hadn’t had time to talk her out of it—she’d already made up her mind to go for the kill, but he couldn’t very well let her run around town murdering the very creatures he was committed to saving.

      * * *

      LATE THAT SAME evening Gareth stared into the darkness, waiting for the sound of his little brother’s sleep. Reagan didn’t know it, but he snored—softly. Not enough to keep Gareth awake but enough for him to know when Reagan was asleep and when he was faking.

      So annoying that he had to share a room with his little brother at all. His friend Abe didn’t have to share with anyone and he had a room easily three times the size of Gareth and Reagan’s. Abe had a TV, too, and three different game systems.

      Abe also had a dad. Gareth would trade all of that and more to have his dad again...

      There it was—the snore. Gareth waited a few more minutes to be sure and then slipped out of bed. That was one nice thing about sharing with Reagan—once he was out, he was out.

      He retrieved the flashlight he kept under his bed, directly below the secret stash spot that he’d made in the box springs. It was the perfect hiding place because even when his mom went on one of her cleaning rampages she couldn’t see the spot. And when Reagan looked for one of his stupid darts or a Lego guy he couldn’t see it, either. Gareth was proud of how well hidden it was.

      He crept to the doorway, and paused to listen. He hadn’t turned the flashlight on. He didn’t need the light yet. His mom’s room was right across from theirs and she always left her door cracked open so she could hear if one of them needed her. She was great that way. It seemed like if he or one of his brothers even twitched in their sleep, Mom would be there in less than a second. Reagan had had terrible nightmares after their dad got killed and bam—Mom would somehow know as soon as he started to whimper. Sometimes she would be there before Gareth even woke up. This was cool, but it also meant that he had to engage superstealth mode when he got up for these midnight raids.

      He passed the twins’ room and grinned a little. His baby brothers were so cute. Gareth wasn’t sure it was normal to love his little brothers like he did, but he was grateful to them for existing because they had seemed to be the only thing that would get their mom out of bed there for a while. Maybe he should feel bad about that, like hate them instead because he hadn’t been able to get her up himself. But he didn’t. He had been sad after their dad died, too. He’d understood. It had been hard for him to get up sometimes.

      He felt safe once he reached the room—the den. He wondered why it was called a den, because to him a den was where animals slept. But nobody ever slept in there—not anymore. His dad used to fall asleep watching football sometimes, but he’d never stayed there all night.

      But the den was where Mom kept the stuff—her stash. But she didn’t hide it very well. Gareth had first found it a couple months after his dad died. He didn’t know what he’d been looking for when he’d found it. He hadn’t meant to snoop—not really. He’d just felt so alone—felt that way still—without his dad. He and his dad had been a unit, a team—“simpatico,” his Uncle Bering had called it. Gareth had looked up that word and it totally fit him and his dad.

      Uncle Bering was cool, too. Uncle Bering had been what had gotten him out of bed after his dad died, but now he had a baby of his own and things were changing...

      He froze for a second when he heard a sound. He exhaled a whoosh of breath as Crosby strolled into the room and let out one of his half meows. Gareth called it a half meow because Crosby opened his mouth really wide but only about half the sound you expected to hear would come out. The giant black-and-white cat had taken to “helping” Gareth in his quests. When he’d first started doing this he’d been afraid the sound of Crosby’s purr would wake his mom, but it didn’t. It didn’t even wake their dog, MacGyver, although he really wasn’t much of a watchdog anyway. But MacGyver slept with Mom and that was good because Gareth felt that the dog would be at least adequate in alarming him if anyone ever broke in and got to Mom’s room. Gareth thought about that kind of stuff because as the man of the house he had to be prepared for anything.

      He stroked Crosby’s soft fur for a moment. Then he took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the cabinet, still without using the flashlight because he’d gotten good enough at this that he only needed the light when he got to the stuff...

       CHAPTER TWO

      “WHY DID HE hit your arm again?”

      “I guess he was saving the stupid bee,” Janie told her friend and boss Laurel the next morning as she settled in behind her desk at the Rankins Press.

      Janie felt herself getting worked up all over again. “I swear if Gareth would have been stung...”

      Laurel winced. “Did you tell him Gareth is allergic?”

      Janie shook her head. “No, I asked him to go away, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s not at all what you’d expect a brother of Emily’s to be like.”

      Laurel sat at her desk, clacking away on the keyboard of her computer. “Wait—I thought you’ve met him?”

      “I have—on the cruise two years ago, when Bering went to propose to Emily. I barely remember it, though. I remember thinking he looked a lot like Emily. Then I went to take a fourteen-hour nap in my cabin...” She trailed off with a helpless shrug.

      Laurel glanced up long enough to give her a sympathetic smile. Everyone in Janie’s life remembered the dark days of her grief and postpartum.

      “Oh, СКАЧАТЬ