The Beekeeper's Ball: Bella Vista Chronicles Book 2 (22 page)

“In the kitchen, right? That’s where you said you get all your talking done.”

She flushed and looked away. “Not
all
my talking,” she said.

“That was nice, today,” he said.

“Yes. Thanks for taking me. And for getting this old Vespa running.”

The thought of restoring Francesca’s scooter for Isabel made him happy.
She
made him happy. At first, the feeling had been so unfamiliar that he scarcely recognized it. Here at Bella Vista, he woke up feeling something unexpected, something even more surprising than his attraction to Isabel. He felt attracted to her whole world. He started picturing life right here. A permanent home, something he’d never before even contemplated. Would he? Could he? And would he feel this way about Bella Vista if Isabel weren’t part of the picture?

That was easy. No way.

Which meant he was falling for her. And that, of course, was the problem. Isabel had pointed it out herself. What was the point of falling for someone when, in just a few more weeks, he was going to have to walk away?

He had committed to his next assignment long ago. Yasmin’s father had been given safe haven in Turkey. They planned to work together on telling the truth about how Yasmin had been murdered. It was something Mac was obligated to do, not for himself but for Ari Nejim.

After the Magnus project, Mac would shift gears and do what he always did—move on to the next project. But these days, when he thought about Isabel and Bella Vista, he didn’t relish the idea of leaving.

He also didn’t know how to stay. Didn’t even know if he had the emotional hardware to do that. He’d married a woman in order to save her life and he’d failed.

Isabel inspired him, though. She made him wish he could be with her without messing her up. Maybe even forever.

Chapter Sixteen

“Why would you do that for me?” Jamie Westfall was in the commercial laundry, the facility recently installed in a long-neglected utility room in the house. Soon enough, they would be using it for guests. At the moment, Jamie was folding clothes with unhurried deliberation, making small stacks of her faded jeans and cotton tops, her towels and washcloths. She paused in her chores to regard Isabel from across the long work table.

“What, offer you health care benefits?” asked Isabel. She plucked a towel out of a basket fresh from the dryer. “All the employees of Bella Vista are entitled to that.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She lined up the edges of the towel and folded it into a neat square. “And I expect you to use it.”

“I’ve never had health insurance before. I don’t even know how it works.”

“It’s not simple but you need and deserve it. Everybody does.” Isabel took a card and a slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to the girl. “Here’s your temporary coverage card. If you like, I can help you with the online forms.”

“Thank you. That would be great.”

Isabel indicated the slip of paper. “There are two obstetricians in town. Both come highly recommended. I wrote down the numbers. It would be good for you and the baby if you were seen right away.”

Jamie ducked her head as she shook out a denim work shirt that had seen better days. “Yeah. About that...”

“Have you seen anyone?”

“No. Well, I went to Planned Parenthood in Napa and got some information. They said the same thing. Regular doctor visits, but there was a waiting list a mile long for the free clinic. I’ve been doing a bunch of reading, taking vitamins.”

“But you haven’t seen a doctor.” Isabel ached for the girl. The uncertainty must be so frightening. What if something was wrong?

“I wasn’t able to afford a doctor,” Jamie said quietly. “Big surprise, huh?”

“Now you can. No excuses, okay? I know I’m being pushy, but it’s because I care. You’re not the only one in this situation.”

“Okay,” Jamie mumbled, taking the slip of paper. “I’ll get in touch with one of these doctors.”

“You seem hesitant.”

“I
am
hesitant.” She folded a pair of jeans, smoothing her hand over a small, fraying hole at the knee. “Last time I went to the doctor, I was in junior high. Had to go to the emergency room with a broken arm.”

“Nothing’s broken now. Really, you shouldn’t wait.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she snapped.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Isabel snapped back.

“Everything.”
She practically shouted the word. At the same time, she swept the stack of perfectly folded clothes onto the floor and stared down at them, red-faced and panting. “Every stupid fricking thing in the whole world, that’s what.”

Isabel set her hands on her hips. “Are you finished?”

Jamie’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know anything about having a baby. Or raising a kid. I’m scared. If I go to the doctor, I’m going to have to figure out what to do. About the baby. About everything.”

“And if you don’t go?”

She sighed. “I know, I know. I’ll still have to decide.”

“There’s one decision that’s a no-brainer. You need to take care of your health, for your sake and the baby’s. That means you have to go to the doctor. The sooner, the better.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I’ve already decided. I’m going to—”

“Jamie.” Isabel’s irritation dissolved. She went around to the other side of the table and pulled the girl into a hug. At first Jamie felt tense, as if ready to bolt. Then she sighed and relaxed into the hug. When Isabel felt her go soft in her arms, she felt incredibly protective. “Time is on your side,” Isabel said. “You have a good long while to figure out what you want to do, and you’re safe and sound with people who care about you. We’ll support any decision you make.”

“I know,” the girl whispered. “I know.” Jamie had been on her own since she’d left home at sixteen, and she’d done an amazing job of making her way in the world. She’d educated herself and gained practical experience in beekeeping and honey production. She’d faced challenges Isabel could only imagine. But a pregnancy was something a girl shouldn’t ever have to face without a support system.

“Aw, Jamie,” she said softly, patting her back, “everyone’s scared when they’re about to have a baby, that’s what I’ve heard, anyway. But I’ve also heard it’s wonderful.”

“It is,” the girl whispered. “I know it’s going to be. Sometimes when I think about it, I think it’s the best thing ever.”

“Agreed. I can’t wait until it’s my turn,” Isabel admitted, stepping back and watching Jamie collect herself. “In my case, I suppose I’d better work on finding a guy I want to be the father of my children.”

That drew a brief smile from the girl. “That guy—Mac—he’s still not your boyfriend?”

Isabel thought about the hot springs, and the way he’d looked at her, the things he’d said. The way she’d looked at him and the thoughts that had gone through her head. “
No.
Why would you ask me that?”

Jamie shrugged. “Because like I said before, I can tell he’s into you. And lately the two of you just seem...I don’t know.”

Isabel
did
know. She hadn’t realized it was something other people could see. “We’re not,” she insisted.
We can’t be.
“I’ve been focused on things other than romance, like Tess’s wedding and the cooking school.” Bending down, she gathered up the spilled laundry and started refolding, piece by piece. “Men and dating—not my forte.”

“Oh, right. What about other guys? Like, in the past.”

Isabel most certainly did not want to discuss the past. “I’ve never been big on going out and meeting people, having a boyfriend. Never found anyone I connected with in a special way.”

Jamie stared at her. “You say the word
never
a lot.”

“Really? I never noticed—I mean, that’s an interesting observation.”

“You’re really pretty, and cool. Hard to believe there hasn’t been someone special for you.”

There had been, but it had gone so wrong, it scarcely counted as a relationship. More like a
mistake.
“I could say the same about you,” Isabel pointed out.

“I’m a freak.” She held up a tank top and shook it out before folding it.

“Why would you say that?”

“Hello. I heard it all through high school.”

“Don’t let other people tell you what to think of yourself,” Isabel said.

“Fine, but guys don’t like me. Not the right kind of guys, anyway.”

Isabel could relate to that, all too well. “So, the doctor...”

Jamie picked up the last of the clothes. “I’ll go. I know it’s the right thing to do. Thank you. Honestly, there’s no way to thank you. I’ve never had anyone look after me before. It’s really nice of you.”

“If you need anything, promise you’ll let me know.”

Jamie placed her clothes in a neat stack in a wicker basket. In a small, almost childlike voice, she asked, “Will you come with me?”

“Of course. Absolutely. Just say when.”

“Maybe, I mean, if it’s okay, we could call now.”

* * *

Dr. Wiley had an opening later that week, and Isabel felt excited to be part of the process. The prospect of a new life coming into the world filled her with wonder. She was eons away from going through it herself, but she was glad Jamie had brought her into the loop. She liked the girl, despite Jamie’s distrust and secretiveness. Jamie reminded her, in some oblique way, of herself, years ago, returning in a panic to Archangel to escape Calvin Sharpe. There was something in the girl’s manner that Isabel recognized, an instinct to bolt and take cover.
He was the worst.

She only hoped the girl would be able to move on. It was far too easy to be trapped by the past. Isabel wanted to explain that things would get better, but Jamie would have to find that out for herself.

While she waited, Isabel browsed through the magazines, remembering her last stay in a waiting room, the day she’d met Cormac O’Neill.

The thought of him raised a flurry of emotion inside her, something she hadn’t experienced in...well, maybe never. It felt like a schoolgirl crush, only worse. It felt
real.
Like something that could last forever—if she let it.

To distract herself, she paged through
MenuSonoma,
a local foodie magazine. This fall, there would be a special feature on the Bella Vista Cooking School. The photo shoot had already been scheduled for the week after Tess’s wedding. The editor had promised to feature the place on the cover. As a place to learn farm-to-table home cooking techniques in the middle of a working orchard, Bella Vista was unique.

She scanned an article about a restaurateur on a quest through the Highlands for a barrel of the perfect Scotch, and compared a recipe for
agrodolce
sauce to her own, which of course made use of honey. Then she flipped the page, and her breath stopped.
“CalSharpe’s Latest Venture Slated to Open Labor Day Weekend.” She forced herself to breathe, even though it made her chest hurt and her stomach churn as she read on.

Renowned chef Calvin Sharpe, formerly a master instructor at Napa’s Culinary Institute, rose to fame with his series on the Cooking Network.
Cooking Sharpe
launched his name; now he is poised to open his newest signature restaurant—CalSharpe’s—in Archangel, one of the prettiest small towns in Sonoma County...

She felt nauseated. Violated, even. She’d known it was coming; she’d braced herself, but it still sickened her. Calvin Sharpe was opening a place in Archangel. It was as if he had crafted some special torture just for her, moving in as she was poised to finally realize her dream.

She closed the magazine with a decisive snap and set it aside. The wedding was practically upon them. Annelise had returned to Bella Vista for the event, and Tess’s mother, Shannon Delaney, had arrived this morning. At the same time, the cooking school website had to go live soon, and she needed more photos and videos. This was how she should be spending her time—getting ready to launch, not regretting events in the past. She had to keep herself from being distracted by Calvin’s presence.

Have you ever told anyone the truth about that guy? Even yourself?
Mac’s question had been weighing on her mind.

A nurse came into the waiting room and approached her. “Jamie wanted me to see if you could join us,” she said softly.

Isabel’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, absolutely. She’d just like to have you in on the conversation if you’re willing.”

“More than willing,” Isabel said. “She’s very special to me.”

She followed the nurse into the exam room. Jamie sat on the edge of the paper-covered table, wearing her street clothes, the disposable gown wadded in her lap. She looked terribly young, but different, somehow, from the cautious, tightly-wound woman who had come into the clinic just a short time ago.

“The baby and I are healthy, and I’ve decided on adoption,” she said softly. “Dr. Wiley is going to help me make it happen.”

Isabel’s heart lurched. “Oh, Jamie....” She looked over at the doctor, a woman who exuded quiet confidence.

“The decision is a process,” the doctor said, her tone measured and kind. “A journey. And I’ve told Jamie it doesn’t have to happen right away. There’s plenty of time to go over the options.”

“I already know what I want to do. It’s everything I’ve been going over in my head for weeks. It just feels like the right choice. Right for the baby, and right for me.”

“You have lots of time to live with your decision. You’re entitled to change it at any time,” the doctor explained. “The adoption counselor will help you with that.”

“You’re a wonderful person with lots of love to give to a child,” Isabel said. “You’d be a great mother.”

Jamie stared at the floor. “I can love a child. I can be a good mother. But there are things I can never give him or her—a father. A
chance.
”
She pressed her fists into the paper gown. “I got myself into a mess, but something good is going to come of it.”

Isabel exchanged a glance with the doctor. “I’m here to help,” she said. “Anything you need....”

“There’s a lot to be done,” the doctor said, rapidly typing on her keyboard. “The most important thing is to make sure Jamie gets the best possible prenatal care and counseling.”

“How are you feeling?” Isabel asked Jamie.

“Honestly? Relieved. I finally know what’s ahead for me. And I’m good with it.” She slid off the table and placed the gown in a stainless steel can, letting the lid close with quiet finality. “I’m good,” she said again.

* * *

Strains of mariachi music greeted Isabel and Jamie when they got home. Catching Jamie’s quizzical look, Isabel said, “Friends of ours. Neighbors, actually. Oscar Navarro’s been playing in their band since they were all teenagers.”

“They sound good.”

“They’ll be playing at Tess’s wedding.” Isabel paused at the kitchen door. “How about you? Are you still good?”

“Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

She did seem less anxious after the doctor visit. Perhaps it was calming to have a plan in place of the fear and uncertainty. Isabel hoped the feeling would last, but she knew—and likely Jamie did, too, that the moment would come when the baby was very real to her, living and breathing as she held it in her arms, and she would have to surrender it to the adoptive parents. The doctor clarified more than once that Jamie could change her decision at any time, but today, the girl seemed determined that adoption was her best choice.

After the doctor, they had visited with a social worker who specialized in adoption counseling, and they’d come out of the meeting laden with books and brochures about the process, as well as a schedule of support group meetings, online and in Santa Rosa. Jamie seemed determined that this would be her path, and Isabel was determined to help her.

Back at Bella Vista, they spied Tess in the barn, showing her mother and Annelise the ballroom where the wedding would take place—how the tables would be arranged, the chandeliers hung, where the band and the bar would be set up. “Let’s go say hi,” Isabel suggested. “That is, if you feel like it.”