Page 44 of Honey Be Mine
A text from Astrid pinged her phone.
Need to check Hive 47 or 46 in Fairy-Tale Village. Queen trouble.
Only Astrid would send this sort of text before eight on a Sunday morning. Still, if Astrid had a feeling—there was a reason. She typed back,Heading out now, and hit Send.
There was a knock on the wall between her bedroom and Tansy’s, followed by a muffled, “Hold on. I need five minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Tansy and Rosemary found Astrid waiting for them at the Fairy-Tale Village bee yard.
“Good morning.” Astrid singsonged the greeting, looking fresh and awake and beautiful as ever.
“Ugh. Not yet, it’s not.” Tansy yawned. “It is Sunday, you know? I bet your husband is going to wake up and wonder where his wife is.”
“Charlie got up with me. He doesn’t sleep much—and not at all without me.” Astrid’s smile was dreamy. “He and the girls are going to make cinnamon rolls and bring them over to the house.”
“That’s very sweet.” Rosemary parked their wagon full of supplies under a nearby cedar tree. She dug out the worse-for-wear smoker and opened the cannister. After she was satisfied with the burlap packing, she lit the fabric on fire and closed the lid, giving the bellows a few good pumps to feed the small flame.
“Are the bees talking to you in your dreams now?” Tansy reached up to straighten her ponytail.
Rosemary took the lid off the hive box and gave the bellows pump on the smoker several solid squeezes, puffing clean white smoke into the box. The bees retreated farther inside.
“I forgot to say anything yesterday.” Astrid shrugged. “Pregnancy brain, I guess. Yesterday was just...weird.”
“It was.” Rosemary nodded. More than weird. For now, she’d set all that aside and focus. Bees first.
She pulled the J hook hive tool from her back pocket and took a deep breath, letting the buzz and hum calm her. All around her, bees flew about their business. One bee hovered close, then perched on the edge of her J tool. It explored the surface—oblivious as she held the tool up for a closer inspection. With the sun shining down, the little bee’s vibrant gold coloration and translucent wings were nothing short of a work of art. Growing up the way she had, it was no wonder that beekeeping was second nature to her. Like breathing. Or painting. It was an extension of who she was—fundamental to who she was—while losing none of its magic. It was her duty to take care of these beautiful winged ladies so they could take care of Rosemary and her family. A seamless partnership.
Everett doesn’t like bees.
She slid the J tool between two frames in the hive and gently separated them. Working with care, she scanned each frame in the hive box—front to back, top to bottom. “I don’t see a queen.”
Astrid’s smile was victorious.
“Yeah, yeah, the bees told you.” Tansy glanced at Rosemary. “Are you sure?”
“Queen cups.” Rosemary pointed at two knobby structures. “No queen cells, though.”
The difference between a queen cup and a queen cell was substantial. A queen cup looked like a tiny upside-down teacup while a queen cell resembled a protruding inch-long peanut. A queen cup was empty and didn’t necessarily mean a thing. A queen cell meant a new queen was inside and soon to be hatched.
While the queen was, for the most part, the ruler of the hive, it fell to the worker bees to make sure the queen was still fit to rule. If the worker bees felt the queen was getting too old, not laying enough eggs, or slacking off in her other duties, the worker bees would replace her. For the worker bees, the health of the hive was their top priority.
“Not yet.” Astrid peered into the hive box. “Is Dane getting a new queen?”
“He will tomorrow.” Tansy tugged a weed free from beneath the hive stand.
“Have you thought about queen-rearing here, on the farm?” Rosemary slid the last frame back into place.
“Not really.” Tansy shrugged, then gave her a long look. “Why?”
Rosemary put the lid back on the hive box. “I was thinking about it. I know Astrid’s been keeping up with the bee log—tracking traits for each apiary and colony.” She glanced at Astrid, who nodded. “Knowing which will produce the best queens is the hardest part. I mean, there’s no point in pursuing queen-rearing if we would have to settle on less-than premium genetics. We’d regret that in the long run.” She brushed her hands off. “The rest is easy—mostly supplies. It’ll be an investment in the beginning, but it would pay itself off. After a while, we could look into selling queens, too. I mean, you and Dane are looking into ways to continue to diversify income streams, Tansy. Why not this?”
Astrid and Tansy were both watching her, smiling broadly.
“What?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you two looking...like that?” She pointed at them.
“You keep sayingwe.” Tansy pointed at her.
“And you’re excited.” Astrid hugged herself.
