“May I?” When she nodded he lifted the cover off the hive he knew to be the weakest. Bees were crawling around on top, a few regarding him suspiciously. He waited until they settled before extracting a frame. “Looks like they got to the brood.” He held it up for her to see. “It’s all gouged out here. But they didn’t get it all, at least not on this one.” He slipped the frame back in. The wasps had undoubtedly done more damage, but he didn’t want to slip into beekeeper mode. He could sense her pulling away. The bees could wait.
He swallowed. “I didn’t have any right to lay all that shit on you about selling the house. It’s your family, and you have to do what you think is right. I get it. It wasn’t my business in the first place. It felt dishonest, that’s all. That you didn’t tell me.”
“I kept trying to find a time. That’s a bad excuse, I know. But the longer I waited, the more I didn’t know how to say it. I was afraid you’d think less of me.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I’ll just say this—I didn’t want to lose you, and I was afraid I might. I thought maybe we had a chance. I hoped we did. You have no idea how much.”
It hit him like a two second delay. “You thought we had a chance?” he said, slightly stunned. “Do you ah…think we still might?” His heart, unruly from the moment he’d set eyes on her, took off at a gallop.She’d wanted to make it work.
She looked toward the woods, where a pair of squirrels tag teamed up a white pine. “If we’d had this conversation a couple of weeks ago, I might have said yes, but it’s been a long, crummy three weeks, Glenn, and I’ve done a lot of thinking. You skipped out when things got hard. I tried so many times to talk to you,and you couldn’t or wouldn’t pick up the phone. You shut me out. What kind of relationship is that?”
He closed his eyes briefly. She was right, of course. “It hit a nerve the way you didn’t tell me. Like with Sophie, how I never knew what she was thinking. I just reacted. It’s not the same, I get that, but I guess I needed time to process.”
“You could have processed with me,” she said softly.
“I know. And if you give me another chance, I promise I’ll bombard you with feelings.”
She let go a real smile for the first time, and he allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late. But when she finally spoke, her face was settled in a way he understood. “I’m at a place now where I’m okay. I can’t be on an emotional roller coaster. I just can’t do it. And we both have a lot on our plates. You have Lilah, and I’ve got my dad and Andrew. Maybe at some point, but I can’t do this now.”
At some point.That meant never. She was slipping away; this was how it happened. Mistakes, miscommunication. Him being an idiot. His heart felt like it had a slow leak. She’d wanted him, and he’d been too stupid and stubborn to get out of his own way.
“By the way, after all this we’re not even selling to Weber.”
“What?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “You’re not?”
“I found a way around it. We listed with an agent in town. She’s going to find a buyer for the house and the property, all of it. Someone who won’t tear it down.” She began gathering up the bee stuff—the smoker and her dad’s hive tool. She looked like a beekeeper.
He wanted to touch her—her hair, her face. If only he could touch her they might find a way. But she was out of reach. “I don’t even care about all that. They can put up fifty houses here, and yes, it would suck. But not as much as not having you in my life. I want to make it work, Cassie. Even if you’re in New York, it’s not that far. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t want to give up.”
She looked at him for a long moment, and he thought maybe something had shifted, that maybe he still had a chance. But then she said, “Right now, I need to find a place for my dad and start cleaning out the house. I can’t think about anything else. I don’t have the energy for it.”
“So that’s it?” he said dismally.
“It’s too much up and down. I had a marriage where he pulled away. I can’t deal with that again.”
He looked at the hives, where bees were coming and going. Doing the best they could. “What about the bees?”
She shrugged tiredly. “I’ll do what I can as long as we’re here. If they make it, I’ll find someplace for them.”
He was about to say he’d go back to being a beekeeper again for however long she needed him. That he didn’t mind. But hedidmind. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stomach the thought of coming over here and not seeing her or watching her pack up the house and move on. That would be torture. Worse than never meeting her at all.
“I’m sorry you feel this way,” he said quietly.
Her eyes shone with tears. “I’m sorry too.”
There was nothing left to say so they hiked back across the field in silence, Cassie carrying the gear.
A rabbit startled in front of them, dashing off a few yards, its nose quivering, then sat fatly on the grass, oblivious to the fact it was still in plain sight.
Chapter Twenty-Six
At the end of August Cassie made an appointment to visit Riverside Gardens with her dad. The house was almost packed up, and he was resigned to moving. Sort of. She’d investigated several assisted living facilities, and Riverside Gardens seemed the best. He could have his own apartment for now and tiered care when he needed more help.
“You look handsome,” she said when he came downstairs. He was wearing a pair of navy slacks and a collared shirt. The clothes were clean and his hair combed. In spite of his reluctance, he’d made an effort.
“All right then, let’s go.” He fished the car keys out of his pocket.
“How about I drive?” she said lightly. He hadn’t driven much since the heart attack but in the last couple of weeks, he’d seemed to remember about the car. A couple of times she’d been alarmed to find him about to set out on some errand or another. Luckily, she’d been able to talk him out of it, but here he was summoning up a last bit of defiance.
“I’ll drive.” His face had taken on that obstinate look. “Just tell me how to get there.”
