Jewel.
Not hidden. Not whispered. Not sealed away in grief anymore.
I straighten a row of jars that are already perfectly straight—old habits die hard—and glance out over the fairgrounds.
The rodeo queen candidates are gathering near the stage, all glittering smiles and carefully pinned curls, their sashescatching the sun. Someone’s horse snorts loudly nearby, unimpressed by pageantry.
“Abilene!”
I turn just in time to see Millie McDougal barreling toward me with a funnel cake in one hand and her purse in the other.
“You are sold out of the small jars already?” she demands, peering at my display.
“Almost,” I say, grinning. “I held a few back for later.”
“Well, don’t you dare sell out before I get my hands on the Golden Meadow,” she warns. “My bridge group is obsessed.”
I laugh. “I’ll put one aside.”
She winks and bustles off, already calling my name to someone else because she’s my personal hype woman.
This keeps happening.
People I’ve known my whole life. People I’ve never met. Tourists who wandered in for the rodeo and left clutching jars like they’ve been handed something precious.
They ask questions now. Real ones.
About the bees.
About the infusions.
About why this honey tastes different.
And I tell them the truth.
“That one’s Jewel,” I say for what must be the hundredth time today, passing a sample spoon across the table. “It’s an old family recipe. Meant to be slow. Comforting. Something you come back to.”
They always pause when they taste it.
Some smile. Some go quiet.
One woman cried last weekend and apologized for it as if she’d done something wrong.
I told her it was okay. Honey does that sometimes.
The twins appear at my side like summoned spirits.
Eliza has glitter on her cheeks from the pageant booth. Caleb is holding a tiny plastic cowboy hat he absolutely does not need.
“Miss Abilene,” Eliza says seriously, “you sold another Jewel.”
“I did?” I ask.
She nods. “That lady smiled like this.” She demonstrates an exaggerated, dreamy grin.
Caleb leans in. “Daddy says that means it’s working.”
Heat blooms low in my chest at that.
