Wild Honey

By Cindy Bellinger

Thirteen-year-old Cassy loses her family in an apartment fire in Detroit. Her Aunt Pat, who lives on a sheep ranch in eastern New Mexico, takes Cassy in. The change is rough and Cassy has a difficult time with all her aunt's friends, including Buzz who is 16. She calls them hicks and has plans to run away. But she comes to like Maureen, a budding singer in a country band. She earns respect among the other kids in the small town. Cassy is street-wise far beyond her years. She also finds she has a talent for drawing. She hates that her aunt keeps trying to pair her up with Buzz, but then an accident brings a new understanding for the two of them. And things aren't so bad after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cindy Bellinger
• Release date: Aug 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465860958

Cindy Bellinger

I've been writing since I learned to hold a pencil. A long-time journalist, I've written for radio, newspapers and magazines. The ebooks compliment the print copies of my book. "Wild Honey" came about when I taught Jr. High, which I did for ten years. I live in New Mexico and sit on the board of the NM Book Association. I garden and sew and bake with alternative flours.

Book preview

Wild Honey

…finding love where least expected

By Cindy Bellinger

Published by Cindy Bellinger at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Cindy Bellinger

Prologue

A halo of orange hangs in the night sky. Then the scream of sirens, their red lights flashing another kind of flame.

Across the street neighbors watch, standing in the chilled night air. Fire hoses shoot water. Firemen enter the building carrying axes. They come out carrying bodies. Lifeless.

The city of Detroit: Drive by shootings. Stabbings. Tempers burning with drug deals gone bad.

In the middle of the night a phone rings. One phone call can change a life faster than an entire building burning down.

Chapter One

Where are the Trees and Flowers?

Actually, it was two phone calls that changed Cassy’s life. First she called her mother to see if she could spend the night with her girl friend. Then the phone rang in the middle of the night. She’d never forget the sequence of events. It all happened so quickly and now, after two days of rolling through flat farmland, the bus finally stopped in front of a café. Town of Riley, the driver called out before the doors hissed open.

Cassy looked out the window. No curbs. No sidewalks. A gas station was next to the café. Then she saw her aunt smiling and waving wildly with both hands, her short cropped hair wild, as usual, in the breeze. Cassy slipped her iPod into her backpack. She knew Aunt Pat hated wizgidgets, as she called them; and her visits had always begun with an announcement: None of that stuff while I’m here. You’ll have plenty of time for all that when I’m gone. Cassy got up and walked down the aisle of the bus.

Oh, it’s good to see you again, Aunt Pat squealed and gave her a big hug. How was your trip?

Boring.

As the driver set out a suitcase from under the bus, Aunt Pat grabbed the handle. You’re traveling light. This all you brought?

Cassy looked at her aunt. Everything burned.

Oh, Cassy, I’m so sorry. It’s going to take me a while to really get it, you know? She paused for a moment, looking off down the street. Well, come on. We have lots of catching up to do.

Cassy followed her aunt to a dented black truck. Your car break down or something? She’d always imagined her aunt in a teal-green convertible.

Nope. This is it. Hop in.

Dust covered the dashboard. Newspapers, a metal thermos, and a dog brush littered the floor. Cassy barely found room for her feet.

Sorry about the mess. Just never find the time to keep things neat, her aunt apologized as she nosed the truck onto the road.

Cassy didn’t dare move. Splotches of dried mud and tufts of dog hair covered the seat. As they traveled through the flat prairie, she stared unbelievably at the landscape. It looked as barren as the dirt in the park across from her old apartment building. Aren’t there any trees around here? she finally asked.

Oh, sure, her aunt said, but you have to know where to find them. See that ridge up there?

Cassy looked where her aunt pointed. The top of a tree poked up behind a small rise. That was it? When the truck angled around a sharp bend, even that one miserable tree disappeared. They followed the two-lane highway for a while then turned up a narrow bumpy dirt road. A small low house came into view. Brown chickens scattered as the truck pulled to a stop. Sheep bunched together in several pens near a small barn. White paint curled in uneven strips down the side of the house, and the rain gutters sagged from the eaves.

Here we are, Aunt Pat said cheerfully.

You’ve got to be kidding, Cassy mumbled as she stepped from the truck. Then a black and white long-haired dog planted its front paws on her chest. No! Aunt Pat, help! she cried. Help! She backed up against the truck, covering her face with her arms. The dog kept licking her hands.

Shep, get down! Aunt Pat scolded, grabbing a hank of hair around the dog’s neck. Then she started laughing. Cassy, she’s nothing but a friendly ol’ sheep dog. She won’t hurt you.

Yeah, and you think it’s funny to be attacked, don’t you? Cassy’s eyes narrowed to slits.

I’m not laughing at you, her aunt began, her smile gone. There’s just no use in thinking Shep will ever turn into a guard dog. She’ll invite anyone in. Look at her smiling and wagging her tail at a complete stranger. But when it comes to protecting the sheep, that’s another matter.

Well, I hate dogs, Cassy spit out.

Her aunt just said, Let’s go check on the new lambs. We’ll get you settled in a bit.

Cassy moved in a daze. When her mother and little brother were alive and they lived in their apartment in Detroit, a fervor of excitement always preceded Aunt Pat’s visits. Timmy moved into Cassy’s room. They put extra towels in the bathroom. Cassy and her mother prepared meals days ahead of time, freezing them so they could spend more time talking and laughing. They gave the apartment an extra special shine. Aunt Pat’s yearly arrivals magically turned normal days into holidays, and Cassy had always loved her aunt’s stories about living out West. They seemed so glamorous.

Now she was here. Out West. And nobody was visiting. This was for real. Cassy had been sent to live in another world, and as she followed her aunt into an old wooden barn that leaned in the direction of the wind, she knew all her fantasies about her aunt had been all wrong.

They stopped at a small pen; a curious lamb put its nose through the fence.

All these babies were born three days ago. Aren’t they just the cutest things?

I guess. The only time Cassy ever saw a live sheep was with her best friend Janet when Janet’s mother took them to a county fair. But they don’t look very smart.

Aunt Pat laughed. You’re quick on the up-take, girl. Sheep are pretty dumb, but there’s something about them. Five more ewes are due within the next few days. I’ve decided to build up my flock this year. I’m tired of doing bookkeeping for other people; it’s time I try making a go of this place. There’s lots of hard work ahead of us, though.

Well, you’re not getting me to do any of your dirty work, Cassy insisted.

They walked back toward the house, Aunt Pat grabbed her bag from the truck, and Cassy followed up the sagging porch steps and through the front door.

Don’t you lock it?