Page 85 of The Sweetest Thing
Dane nodded. “I know.”
“I was pissed off.” He stopped pacing. “We were drinking and smoking in the loft.”
We?He had a hard time imagining Kerrielynn or any of the other Junior Beekeepers in that scenario.Wait. The loft, in the Viking Hall?
“Dad told me about military school. I lost it—didn’t go to the dance.” Leif rubbed his hands against one another. “I called Eddie and him and his brothers stole their dad’s whiskey—and came over.”
Dane felt like an ass. He’d been so caught up dancing with Tansy he hadn’t even noticed that Leif wasn’t there. Some big brother.
“We heard you guys and panicked—we were all buzzing pretty bad. I dropped the bottle. I guess one of the cigarettes wasn’t out...” He ran his hands over his hair. “We tried to put it out but it spread and we just...we ran. It must have been the fertilizer, like the guy said.” Leif stopped beside him. “I know saying I’m sorry doesn’t make this better but I am. Sorry. I’ll work, clean up—all of it. I am sorry, Dane. I’m grounded, right?”
He was furious and disappointed and so damn relieved that Leif hadn’t been hurt it was a struggle not to react.
“Dane?” Leif’s voice softened. “I know I screwed up and it was stupid. I’m not just saying that. You can ground me—”
“I am going to, believe me.” He sighed. “I’ll need your help with all of it. It’s going to be a hell of a lot of work.” Dane didn’t even know where they’d start but he had a good idea of how. Not with expansions or event venues, that could wait. He’d start again, with what mattered most—family and the bees. “I appreciate you telling me the truth, Leif.”
“I didn’t want to,” he murmured. “But I knew I had to. Plus, I didn’t want you thinking anything Dad said was true about Tansy.”
“I don’t.” Dane ran a hand along the back of his neck. “Tansy would never do anything like that. She’d never put the bees in danger.” He chuckled.
“She likes you more than the bees.” Leif sighed, irritated. “Why didn’t you stand up for her? She probably thinks you sided with Dad. That’s how it looked. Dumbass.”
Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.He’d seen her face—how she flinched away. It’d gutted him then, it gutted him now to think about it. “I gotta tell you, you need to work on your motivational techniques.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t go after her when you and Dad were...” Dane blew out a long, slow breath. “I’ll go see her tomorrow morning, before anything else. And I’ll explain.” Hell, he’d beg. He’d tell her he loved her and do whatever he could to make her love him, too.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEDRIVEHOMEwas a blur for Tansy. She was exhausted, body and soul. And her heart... She swallowed, turning the van down their drive.
“Why are all the lights on?” Astrid sat forward.
Tansy peered out the front windshield and frowned. “Maybe the sirens woke them?”
“Maybe.” Astrid smothered a yawn. “You know Dane doesn’t believe what his dad said, don’t you?”
Tansy glanced at her sister. “I know.” But leaving had been hard. Harald Knudson had taken great joy in blaming the fire on them—in front of people she loved and admired. And Dane hadn’t defended her, he’d told her to go. She got out of the van and walked to the front steps with her sister. “We look awful.”
“You should see your hair.” Astrid laughed. “Umm...” She stepped forward and pulled out a long branch topped with a ball of moss. “I don’t think this belongs there.”
Tansy shook out her hair. “You’ve got a smudge or two.” She pointed at her sister’s chin and cheek. “And there.” Her cheek. “And there.” Her forehead. She pulled the front door wide.
“I don’t know,” Aunt Camellia was crying. “I’m telling you, Mags, I’ve looked. Everywhere.”
Tansy and Astrid ran into the kitchen to find the room in absolute chaos. The tile-topped table was stacked high with books, recipe boxes, binders and a variety of spiral notebooks.
“What’s going on?” Tansy asked. This was bad—Tansy had never seen them in such a state.
Neither aunt moved.
“Aunt Camellia?” Astrid stepped forward. “Aunt Mags? Is Rosemary okay?”
“She’s fine, darling girl,” Aunt Mags said, her green eyes widening. “What happened?”
“Oh, heavens to Betsy!” Aunt Camellia hurried around the table. “What on earth?” She hugged them each. “You smell like smoke.”
“Is your skirt singed?” Aunt Mags didn’t bother trying to hide her distress. “Are you all right, girls?”
“You didn’t hear the sirens?” Tansy ran a hand over her knotted hair. “There was a fire.” A real-life nightmare. The images were too fresh to blot out.
