Pick Up Speed: Chapter One
Buzz Off
Lawson
Lawson Malssum breathed in the clean Vermont air and decided maybe he hadn’t been a complete dumbass.
Or maybe he had.
As a mechanic who loved restoring old cars, he was used to the thicker air of the cities—the good old smog and carbon monoxide smell that accompanied his love of vehicles.
Now, he’d moved to a farm where he could probably count the vehicles that passed the property during the day on one hand.
Lawson shook his head and stepped off the farmhouse porch. Apple trees grew in every direction. These were the apples that had lured Lawson’s brother Knox to the farm. In turn, Knox had enticed their sisters Jolie and Amber to give farm life a shot.
The three of them and another pair of friends had found partners and happiness here, living on the four-hundred acre property. He wondered how big that was in Boston blocks.
After arriving late the previous night, Lawson slept in this morning. Everyone else was doing whatever they did to get the apple farm up and running. He imagined the chores were endless now that spring was doing its thing.
Lawson figured Knox and Thea worked at the Worminator, and he wanted to check that out in person at some point. His brother had found a woman whose fondest dream had been a compost facility for the farm. It made Lawson smile. The two of them were perfect together.
He could also head to the pond where his sister Jolie and her partner Ford were probably letting out their ducks and working on whatever spring duties involved cleaning up a stagnant pond and preparing it for the season.
Amber and Gray would be at the other farmhouse. The No Phailed Apples Inn would open in a few weeks. Or maybe they’d be working on the gigantic garden area where Gray worked his magic on the plants to make it enticing for the inn’s guests.
Nash, Olivia, and their two kids could be anywhere. Probably at the cider cabin, which they planned to turn into a full-sized house over the season, or inventing new cider flavors to try.
All busy. All happy with partners.
Lawson didn’t want to think about that part. His luck in finding a partner sucked big time.
His encounters had been with women who thought he should push himself to be more than a simple mechanic, women who wanted his money or his body. None of them wanted him.
And he wasn’t thinking about that anymore. After Gloria had dumped him for not wanting to open his own restoration shop and be someone like her father, he needed a break. From women, from his life.
Then the garage where he’d worked burned to the ground. The cops figured it was kids who’d been torching local businesses as an initiation into one of the local gangs. Jackasses.
He needed a change, so he’d packed up his stuff, shoved it in his ’72 Chevy truck, and moved from Boston to Vermont.
He felt bad about leaving Ricky, but it would be months before his boss could reopen, and he’d likely need a new spot.
Lawson could be replaced. According to Gloria, mechanics were a dime a dozen. She’d wanted him to build an empire so that he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty.
Getting his hands dirty was the very best part of his job.
Lawson mentally kicked his ass. No thinking about Gloria or Boston. He was in Vermont now, and it was time to determine his next steps.
Knox had given him a set of keys to all the buildings on the farm. The closest barn was full of vehicles waiting for Lawson, but he needed to get his head out of his ass first.
Heading to his truck, he searched the boxes he’d brought until he found his latest toy. He’d only had the chance to use it once, and there hadn’t been many spaces in Boston where it had been okay to use.
Here, he had four hundred acres to explore, and no one to bother. Grabbing the box, he headed to the space between the farmhouse and the inn. Gray was indeed working in his garden across the drive, but Lawson wouldn’t bother him.
The snow was gone, but the land wasn’t nearly as dry as it had been in Boston. Knox and his sisters had sent photos of their first winter at the farm. The amount of snow had made him laugh and remember their days of growing up with Fox after their parents had died in a car accident.
Their grandfather had taken them in and worked his ass off to ensure they had everything they’d needed, including love and emotional support.
He’d been a hell of a man and an excellent grandfather to them all.
As the second oldest, Lawson had tried to help like his older brother, Burke, did. But it had been hard for a thirteen-year-old to do more than mow lawns and fix the neighbor’s lawn mowers and snow blowers.
He’d been so damn proud when the local mechanic had agreed to let Lawson clean up behind him in exchange for letting him watch the magic of the mechanics in action.
He’d always loved machines and engines. Taking them apart and putting them back together was a better version of the jigsaw puzzles he and Fox had finished.
The memories lifted his mood, and Lawson grinned as he looked around for a dry space to set up the drone.
The gardens and the area where the gang had set up a hockey rink were soggy messes, but there were a few benches set up along the rink’s edge, probably where they’d changed into skates.
Lawson wondered if he’d be here once the snow started to fly. He hoped he could make a go of things. He needed to support the farm and bring in some income as well. Knox figured keeping the farm’s machinery in shape would be a full-time occupation, but Lawson wanted something else. Something more.
He wasn’t an expert in farm machinery, not yet anyway, but he imagined neighbors might appreciate a nearby mechanic
He might even set up a restoration shop in the barn. That would be a dream come true. Local junkyards and fields had to full of old vehicles he could buy. He’d love to spend time bringing cars and trucks back to life, and polishing them until they gleamed.
For now, he opened the box and put the drone together. Because he wasn’t familiar with drones, and it had been months since he’d flown it, he skimmed the manual for the basic commands.
Then, he connected the drone’s camera to the app on his phone, allowing him to watch what the drone saw in real time.
It would be a great way to get an overview of the farm and its layout. Much faster than walking four hundred acres.
Grinning, Lawson sent the drone up, and flew a few laps around Gray’s garden area.
He played with the direction, velocity, and altitude commands until he was sure he had solid control. Then he sent the drone over the farmhouse and into the orchard.
He spotted himself on the bench and then explored the surrounding area. He circled the equipment barn, which would be his domain, and then he sent the drone out of his range of vision.
More trees. So many trees. He zoomed in closer until he could see the buds that should blossom any day now. It would be a pretty sight.
Sending the drone higher, Lawson spotted a larger barn. This was the harvesting barn where they would separate and clean the apples. A large cold room at the back was full of apples they’d harvested last fall. Apparently, they tasted as fresh as the day they’d been picked.
Moving on, Lawson sent the drone to find the next building. The task would be more difficult once the blossoms were out.
It took him a few seconds to recognize the Worminator, where his brother and Thea were indeed working. When they looked up at the drone, he waggled it from side to side in greeting. Sure enough, Knox waved back.
Lawson realized he was grinning like a fool. His previous sour mood lifted away with the drone. This was going to be fun.
He zipped the drone upward again to search for the pond next. And then the cider cabin.
Then he’d bring the drone back. By then, he’d be ready to check out his barn.
Maybe he wasn’t a dumbass after all.
Dani
Arms full of plant pots, Dani Richards twirled in the spring air as she made her fourth trip out to her field. Vermont was warming up nicely, and her bees would be happy. They weren’t the only ones.
Dani loved the various seasons in Vermont. In the winter, she spent more time in her metal art workshop, which she loved, but there was nothing like spring. Nothing like the joy and hope of rising temperatures and sunshine.
Not even the mud could get her down. She wore rubber boots and a dress that reminded her of her great-grandmother. Frannie B had been the most interesting and encouraging person during Dani’s youth.
The older woman had been bold and sassy. She defied the expectations of prim and proper, especially in an era that hadn’t encouraged women to be brave. Frannie B was from an age when women hadn’t hyphenated their own names after marriage. She’d done it, anyway. She’d built a cosmetic business from nothing, and had taken great pleasure in shocking the establishment with her goals and gumption.
It took Dani years to believe she had enough gumption to set her own goals. Some days, she still wasn’t sure she had enough.
But thanks to Frannie B, Dani had her own home, businesses, and joys, far from her family’s rigid expectations. She had no desire to be the vapid, dutiful daughter who married to support the family business.
A shudder ran through her despite the sun and encouraging warmth of the day. She wrapped Frannie B’s sweater around her. The cozy wool showed its age, but Dani hoped it would last many more years. She’d bought similar warm and chunky sweaters, but there was nothing like wrapping herself up in an original from Frannie B.
Dani tramped through her backyard and into the fields and forests beyond. Back in New York, her fifty acres would cost millions, and be clogged with people and pollution.
Dani preferred sharing the forest and the quiet joy of Vermont with her dog and bees.
The temperatures had risen enough that she’d been able to unwrap the hives a few days before. All but one of her two dozen colonies had survived. Still, she mourned the loss of those who hadn’t made the winter.
Scientists believed bees died in their sleep without pain or fear, and she hoped that was true. The poor things deserved peace. They were the hope of the planet.
When she’d removed the winter wraps from the hives, she’d also added some sucrose syrup to a few that felt light, hoping to help the surviving bees grow and thrive.
The bears would be out of hibernation by now, so she needed to check on her fences today. Bears weren’t allowed to eat her bees, no matter how hungry they were. That wouldn’t be a peaceful way for her friends to go.
It wasn’t quite warm enough for Dani to check on the queens yet, but it wouldn’t be long. Although the previous year, there’d been another bout of snow late into the spring that had thrown off nature and Dani’s routines. She wasn’t taking the hive boxes apart until she was sure there was enough outside heat to replace the warm air inside.
This was her third year running the hives, her second year running Frannie B’s Honey. Despite the name, she didn’t stick just to honey—more advice from her great-grandmother.
Diversify. Find out what your target audience wants and give it to them with quality and love.
So, Dani had learned to make beeswax candles and lip balm along with her honey. She also collected and sold pollen, propolis, and beeswax.
Along with selling her metalwork, she was happy and had enough money to pay the bills without touching the rest of the trust fund Frannie B had left her.
The thought of having the freedom to choose had her twirling again.
This was much better than boring conversations about business and stocks, much more fun than staying tidy and wearing just the right makeup and clothing.
Dani raised her face to the sun. “I hope you’re looking down from wherever you are, Frannie B. I love you and appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Without her, Dani would be trapped in a life she hated and married to a man who was as emotionally attractive as bear scat.
Laughing, Dani danced to the clearing where her hives surrounded a small pond and her lunchroom. Well, lunch truck.
The rusty old truck had likely been in the forest for decades. She knew nothing about vehicles, but this looked like one that might have rolled out on Ford’s first assembly lines.
She couldn’t imagine why it had ended up in this clearing in the woods. The road was on the far side of her cottage, more than half a mile away. Maybe someone had taken it for a joyride and dumped it when it had broken down.
Whatever the reason, she enjoyed having Beatrice there. Her truck bed provided Dani a dry place to have lunch or hang out when she finished her daily apiary tasks. She’d hung some tiny fairy danglers from Beatrice’s mirrors, inside and out. They caught the light and sparkled, bringing her more joy.
Dani had read more than one romance novel while lounging in the back of the truck, imagining a hero of yore striding purposefully through the trees in search of a damsel to join him on his quest. Not to slay dragons, but to befriend them.
She could easily imagine a dragon swooping overhead, the downward stroke of its wings brushing the treetops and causing a breeze to rush through the clearing.
That wouldn’t work today as she hoped to plant more wildflowers in the clearing, along the forest paths, and in her backyard.
With more flowers, she might increase her hive count or at least ensure the bees had enough pollinators to thrive. She didn’t want so many bees that the tasks became actual work, but she also wanted her business to thrive. Frannie B had insisted that if work wasn’t fun, you weren’t doing it right.
Dani wanted to live her life according to that policy. Her bees and metal art brought her joy and gave her time to read and enjoy her property.
Happy barks drew her attention to the forest. Her best buddy, Bibi, a giant Newfoundland dog, and the neighbor’s Great Pyrenees, Fox, raced through the trees toward her.
Just the two friends today. Some days, her other neighbor’s dogs would join in the romp. None of the dogs bothered the bees, and the bees ignored them right back.
They were pretty much the only company Dani needed.
Being alone was far better than being with people who didn’t respect you or who pressured you to be something you weren’t.
After rubbing down both dogs, she checked on the hives. Not that she could do much until the weather was a few degrees warmer. Maybe tomorrow.
Dani put her pots on the blanket she’d set down earlier on the edge of the meadow. That way, she could easily move between the sun and the shade. She’d brought out soil and seeds on her earlier trips, so now she was ready to work.
Some seeds were ones she’d harvested in the fall. Native plants she knew could thrive in the Vermont climate. Others she’d ordered from companies that specialized in wildflowers for bees and showed a commitment to environmentally friendly practices. The new seeds would give the bees a wider variety of food sources.
Dani wanted to seed a pathway through the trees with the new pots. If she wanted more bees, she needed to know if she could support them. And even if she didn’t expand, it would be fun to have a wildflower trail throughout the forest. The soil in most areas wasn’t thick enough to support them, but she hoped they’d survive in the pots. She’d chosen flowers that loved shade, so she had high hopes.
A buzzing sound had her looking for her bees. They’d been out playing on the lower entries of the hives, but there shouldn’t be enough of them out yet to create so much noise. And they shouldn’t be wandering far from home yet. She’d never heard them like this.
It took a moment to realize that whatever was making the noise, it didn’t seem to be her bees. They were acting normally for this time of year. Few were outside, and those were sleepily exploring the area immediately around the hive.
Fox had disappeared into the woods while she’d been planting, but Bibi lifted her massive head from her paws to look around. “Do you see any of the bees, Bibi?”
But there weren’t any.
Then Bibi looked up, and Dani followed her gaze.
A drone hovered above their clearing.
Who the hell was watching her? Why?
Bibi barked, and Dani waved at the drone to move away. She knew nothing about them but didn’t want any near her hives. What if it messed up her bees? This was her property, and no jackass had a right to watch her through a drone.
She walked to the middle of the clearing, waving her hands in the air. “Go away. I don’t know who you are, but this is my property. You need to leave now. You’re going to scare my bees.”
Did drones have audio? She didn’t have a clue.
The little machine circled over the clearing twice more, and then the wings waggled back and forth for a few seconds. She wondered if it was going to fall.
A ripple of unease ran up her spine as she watched the machine steady itself, then rise. It circled wider and wider over the clearing before finally heading over the trees and out of sight. What did they want from her?
Whoever the idiot was running it, she hoped he never came back.
But a shiver of unease had taken the joy out of the day.
