I kissed her gently, just once, and then gathered her in my arms. As I stood, she squeaked, and I carried her toward the stairs. "That's not a hobby. That's a calling."
Epilogue
EVIE
We were missing an entire box of candles. I'd counted last night as I'd lined them up by the door to be taken to Micah, and after dropping them off just now, I'd realized we were missing one. It was our last box of lavender-scented ones, too. If I wanted to make more, I'd have to use lavender oil instead of the fresh, dried sprigs I'd gathered over the spring. We were deep into autumn now, the weather crisp and the trees alight with color. I wouldn't be able to make fresh lavender candles again until after winter ended. Maybe I'd miscounted last night.
Scowling, I parked my car in front of the barn, thinking back to where it might have gone. Tessa wouldn't have taken it—she was sick of candle-making because we'd marathoned that to death over the last few weeks, preparing for winter when the bees would sleep and our profits would fall. As I got out of the car, leaves crunched under my boots, and I took a moment to appreciate the damp, earthy scent of falling leaves and chilling ground.
The door opened, and Benjamin stood waiting with a mug in his hand, his glasses still on and his shoulders shivering from the chilly draft. He was wearing one of his fancy cashmere sweaters,emerald green and hugging his lean body deliciously. He always looked good, but today, he looked mouthwatering. He held out the mug, which was haloed with steam. "How did it go?"
It was hard to be angry in Benjamin's presence. Not that he didn't test that theory from time to time, but even months later, I found my mood bubbling and popping with fizzy delight when he was around. I joined him, taking the mug of hot cocoa and letting him close the door behind me. He'd lit a fire in my fireplace—he was a regular farm hand at this point—and the area where he'd set himself up with his laptop was scattered with cozy throws and pillows on the couch. I sipped the cocoa, sighing. The sweet steam warmed my nose, and the warm, milky chocolate coated my dry throat. "I thought I had seven boxes of candles for Micah to sell through the winter, but we only had six."
"Sorry, all winter?" he clarified, sliding his hands in his pockets and giving me a concerned stare. "That's your income from now until April?"
"No," I replied with a hint of exasperation. "It's part of it, though."
"Is the other part honey butter? I'm kind of hoping you have to make more honey butter." He stepped close to me and began to unbutton my wool peacoat for me while I took another sip of hot chocolate.
"I'll make honey butter if you make bread," I offered.
He hummed in thought, deliberately taking his time sliding his hands under my coat and making my skin tingle beneath my long-sleeved dress. "I'm afraid I haven't quite perfected that hobby yet. Can we put honey butter on that winter deer model made of gelatin that I stuck in your fridge?" I pulled a face and he laughed, coaxing my coat off my arms and taking it to the row of hooks by the door. "We'll bribe Nan to make bread, then."
"She'll be thrilled. She's already getting stir-crazy with the weather cooling off." I curled up on the couch next to wherehe was working, and I glimpsed a wordy-looking document no doubt meant to be given to investors for Dr. Wells' new ALS drug. From what I could gather of Benjamin's schedule, he had a flexible mix of privileges at the local hospital for patients who requested him, along with a bucketload of work he did for Dr. Wells remotely. Somehow, he still managed to be at the farm frequently, and I never questioned it. If he was here, I was happy. And I was happy often.
Benjamin sat next to me, moving the laptop aside and pulling me close. He'd started using my soap, but he liked the goat milk and almond bar rather than mine. He'd said something about not wanting to ruin the way alyssum smelled on me, whatever that meant. I breathed in the fresh, almond scent of him, and the feel of his cashmere sweater against my cheek as I snuggled into him made my eyes roll back in my head with satisfaction. Perfection. He rubbed my arm absently, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "Micah is doing well, though?"
"Mhm," I replied, starting to feel drowsy. He took my cocoa from me and set it down on the coffee table, and then he bundled me up in his arms again. Winterizing the hives was hard work, and I was ready to call it a day. Was it too much to hope that Benjamin would make dinner, too? I was slightly obsessed with the way he cooked salmon in a glazed marinade.
Just as I was about to ask if he had happened to put a filet in the fridge, my front door banged open. I'd removed the security system months ago, but sometimes I wondered if I should have kept it. Tessa stood in the doorway, her purple puffer coat up to her nose and her dance recital outfit poking out from the bottom of it. "I made a Rube Goldberg machine."
I perked up with interest. "Did you really? That sounds dangerously educational."
"With fire," she growled dramatically, holding out her hands like she held flames in her palms.
"Oh," I replied.
"Good lord," Benjamin muttered. "Was the goat involved?"
"Phillip was busy," Tessa replied with sudden dignity, lifting her chin over the coat collar. "But you need to come appreciate my genius, now."
I peered over her shoulder, starting to rise. "Outside, I hope? What kind of fire?"
Benjamin grumbled, but Tessa was already scampering back out the door and shouting, "To the woods!"
I gave Benjamin an apologetic glance before returning to the door and grabbing my coat. "I guess we're going outside."
"I guess we are," he replied, resigned. He shrugged on his black coat, and then we followed Tessa outside.
Our shoes crunched on gravel and dry leaves, and I took a moment to appreciate the way the sunset looked as it painted the colorful treetops a bright violet pink. When we reached the reached the meadow, Tessa swung open the gate with flair. "It's this way." She was acting like a ringleader introducing us to her circus. Which, the more I thought about it, was about as likely a future profession for her as anything else.
We followed her through browning grass and past bushes dotted with bright red berries, and then she hooked a right toward a familiar enclosed clearing. I scowled up at Benjamin. "Did you tell her where this was?"
"Me?" He put a hand to his chest, clearly offended. "I don't fraternize with children. You know this."
"Like it was a secret," Tessa drawled, rolling her eyes with a backward glance at me before stopping in the middle of the lush space. "I figured it would be less of a fire hazard here."
I lifted my eyes to the abundance of foliage everywhere. "How'd you figure that?"
