A Year at Honeybee Cottage: Mossbrae Series

By Alexandra Wholey

WELCOME TO MOSSBRAE, WHERE YOU'LL FALL IN LOVE AND NEVER WANT TO LEAVE...

 

All Creatures Great and Small meets This Farming Life.

For fans of Rachel Lucas, Christie Barlow and Kiley Dunbar... 

 

A YEAR AT HONEYBEE COTTAGE 
 

A HEARTBREAK…

 

When beekeeper Eilidh Andersen is jilted on her wedding day, her world comes crashing down. But every cloud has a silver lining…

 

A SURPRISE INHERITANCE…

 

When Eilidh learns that her late grandmother has left her Honeybee Cottage in the Inner Hebrides where she spent her childhood, she leaps at the chance of

 

A FRESH START…

 

Determined to focus on work, Eilidh makes a vow not to fall in love until she is good and ready.

 

But when she arrives back into the busy, matchmake loving community of Mossbrae, and is reunited with her childhood friend and neighbour, hunky sheep farmer, Angus Kincaid, it proves more difficult to keep!
 

With all the romance of the gorgeous Scottish scenery and later, the soaring summer temperatures, can Eilidh resist her feelings for Angus when everyone else is determined to see her have the happy ending she so badly deserves?

 

LOVE CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT...

• Language: English
• Publisher: YELLOW MOTH PRESS
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215806463

Book preview

PROLOGUE

S o, we use the smoker to calm the bees so that we don’t get stung. Like this.

A white plume of smoke filled the air as Marianne Andersen, kitted out in her bee suit, moved the smoker across the hive. Eilidh, wearing her own mini bee suit, nodded enthusiastically as they stood in the centre of the back garden of Honeybee Cottage, in the quaint village of Mossbrae, in the Inner Hebrides.

Eilidh had been fascinated by the bees since she was very young, loving to watch them collect pollen from the buddleia and carry it back to the hives. Early March, the beginning of the honey season, was Eilidh’s favourite time of year. She got to help out, breathe in the scent of the early spring flowers, and listen to the quiet humming of the honeybees as her grandmother gently brushed them away so she could open the hive and check the frames.

Marianne had kept bees for the last twenty years and was now teaching ten-year-old Eilidh all she knew hoping that, one day, she would follow in her footsteps and become a beekeeper.

Can you see? You just brush them away with the bee brush. Then we can … do what?

The spring checks, Eilidh said knowledgeably.

Good girl! That’s exactly right. Marianne smiled indulgently at her only grandchild.

Eilidh smiled back at her beloved grandmother: her mentor. They had the same cornflower-blue eyes, cherubic features, freckles on the bridge of their nose, and long light-brown hair, the colour of Demerara sugar.

Marianne was in her late sixties so her eyes were shrewd and her now oyster-blonde hair gave her a patrician air. She loved being outdoors, around nature, and baking using the honey she produced. She also loved to laugh, and her laughter sounded like a bell ringing on a teacup.

Eilidh spent every day of the school holidays at this whitewashed cottage with the red front door and the peach climbing rose, which always smelt of honey, above the porch. The back garden had deliberately been left overgrown, and the huge ancient buddleia which dominated the centre. Eilidh adored spending time with her doting grandmother, learning all about the bees.

Today’s inspection was the first of the year. It was a brief job but a fun one just the same. Marianne lifted the lid off the hive and looked into the top of the hive. There was no need to take the hive apart so early in the year. Scraping off the beeswax, putting the frame to one side, and replacing it with a fresh frame, before letting the bees get the honey.

So what do we do first? Can you remember?

We need to check the frames, said Eilidh.

Marianne lifted a frame out of the brood box. And how do we know we have a healthy hive? What do we need to look for?

Wax. And fresh eggs. There’s some here, Eilidh said, pointing to white bubbles in the corner of the frame.

What else? Marianne prompted.

Pollen. That means the bees are making honey.

What pollen do you think this is?

Dandelion, because it’s orange.

Exactly right. Good girl! Marianne marvelled at how quickly Eilidh was picking all of this up. She was going to make a great beekeeper one day. What can you not see, and why is that good at the moment?

Eilidh looked, frowning slightly. No drone cells.

What does that mean?

The bees aren’t going to swarm yet.

Exactly. We don’t need to worry about that just yet. So yes, this is a healthy hive. There’s already brood on here too, some fresh pollen, and stores on here, Marianne explained, pointing to the other side of the frame. We’re nearly done. What do we do next?

Put the queen board on to stop the queen flying off.

Aye, that’s right. We don’t want that! And what do we need to add before we close the hive?

The honey supers for when they start making honey! Eilidh replied excitedly.

Exactly! And what do we do once we’ve collected the honey?

We can make honey cakes! Eilidh grinned.

Well, as it happens, I had some honey, so I’ve made some already. Would you like some?

Yes, please! Eilidh cried excitedly. I love your honey cakes.

She took Marianne’s hand, clutching it tightly. Gran?

Aye?

When I grow up, I want to be a beekeeper, just like you!

I’d like that too, sweetheart. You’re going to make a grand beekeeper.

Eilidh!

Eilidh turned to see Robyn Kincaid, her best friend and classmate, peering over the fence. Robyn lived with her parents, Joe and Annabelle, and older siblings, Grace and Angus, across the valley at Cairnmhor Farm, a two-hundred-acre hill farm which had been in the family for three generations. Their land backed onto Honeybee Cottage and Eilidh’s grandfather, Lars, had once worked for Joe. As a result, the kids had been friends for the last eight years, and spent the most of their holidays together.

Hello!

Are you coming over? We’ve got new lambs.

Eilidh glanced at Marianne. Can I go?

Aye, of course. Have fun. Be back in time for dinner.

Eilidh hugged Marianne, climbed the gate and set off with Robyn.

Here they are! Robyn said, when they reached the back of the lambing barn. Do you want to feed one? She handed over a bottle and Eilidh giggled as she fed the lamb.

Robyn! Where are you?

Robyn and Eilidh jumped at the sound of Angus shouting.

In here!

The tall, twelve-year-old boy who walked had tousled dark hair and dark eyes. He was the opposite of the petite blonde Robyn but he had a friendly face and a mature air. Where’s Da? I need his help. There’s a gimmer ewe having trouble with a lamb.

I’ll go and get him! Robyn cried and hurried off. Eilidh, you stay with Angus.

What can I do? Eilidh asked awkwardly as Angus led her back through the lambing barn to the ewe who was lying on her side, huffing and grunting. Eilidh climbed into the pen, feeling a wave of trepidation. She hadn’t been this close to a ewe before, but it was fascinating.

You cover the ewe’s eyes whilst I check where the lamb is.

Alright.

Eilidh knelt down and gingerly put her hands over the ewe’s eyes, marvelling at the softness of her muzzle. She glanced at Angus, who had rolled up his sleeve and was checking the ewe. What are you looking for? The head?

Front feet and the nose. The lamb is supposed to come out front feet first like it’s diving. I can only find one foot; the other is stuck behind it. That’s the problem sometimes with a gimmer.

Gimmer?

A year-old ewe. A two-year-old is called a hogg.

I see. How are we going to get the lamb out?

Da will sort it when he gets here. He’ll pull the lamb out by hand if he can. Angus stood and wiped his hand on his overalls.

Da! Over here! He looked relieved to see Robyn and Joe hurry into the barn.

Joe reached them in a heartbeat and sank to his knees. Have you checked her?

Angus nodded. Aye. It’s alive. I’ve found one foot, and the muzzle. I think the other is under the lamb.

Grand, Joe replied. Shouldnae be too difficult then. He turned to Eilidh. You managing there, hen, aye? You help Eilidh keep her calm, Robyn. Angus, you help me once I get the lamb out. Joe snapped into action. Checking the ewe, he found the feet, tugged a lamb out and passed it over to Angus to take care of. There’s two in here yet, he said.

Angus rubbed the lamb with some straw, tickling its nose to make it sneeze and encourage breathing, and was soon able to place the lamb near the ewe so they could get to know each other. Here you are lass, he said. You’ve got a wee boy.

A boy! Robyn and Eilidh cried in delighted unison. Are you sure he’s a triplet? He’s huge!

We can call him Mhor, Robyn said.

Aye. Braw name for a big lad, Joe said. The next one’s nearly here. Come on, Robyn. Your turn, you’re the one who wants to be a vet.

Robyn worked like an expert and named the ewe lamb Lavender.

The last one now. Eilidh, do you want to have a go?

Eilidh did a double take. "What? Me? Deliver the lamb?"

Aye, you can have a try.

Okay, She knelt down beside the ewe.

Just gently take hold of the lamb’s feet, and the back of its neck to keep the head steady, and pull.

That’s it, Eilidh! cried Robyn. You’re doing it! Well done!

Eilidh took hold of the feet, tugged gently and the third lamb was born, alive and well. Angus grabbed a handful of straw and Eilidh copied him, rubbing the lamb until it sneezed.

That’s it, she’s fine now.

Phew!

Well done, lass, Joe said. You’re a natural. What are you going to call her?

Honey, Eilidh said, without hesitation.

An excellent name, said Joe.

What a gorgeous trio, Eilidh said with a smile, looking at the lambs as they fed off their mother. If she hadn’t wanted to be a beekeeper so badly, maybe she’d think about being a sheep farmer.

You can come back next time, Eilidh, Joe said. You’ll make a great shepherdess one day.

Aye. I’ve a great idea – you can farm bees and sheep! Robyn exclaimed.

CHAPTER ONE

Twenty-Four Years Later

To Eilidh and Jack!

Eilidh smiled as her mother, Connie, champagne flute filled almost to the brim, raised a toast.

To Eilidh and Jack! echoed bridesmaids Grace and Robyn, clinking their glasses together as the photographer captured the moment, before excusing herself and heading downstairs to photograph the groomsmen.

I cannae believe my wee girl will be married in an hour, Connie said, her blue eyes welling with happy tears.

Aye, said Eilidh as she took a long sip, liking the fizziness of the alcohol. I cannae quite believe it either!

They were in the Harmony Bridal Suite of the Mackay Hotel and Spa just outside of Edinburgh city centre. It was a clear chilly morning, a week before Christmas, and all of Eilidh’s dreams were coming true. Well, almost all of them. She had never really envisioned herself as having her wedding in a hotel but Jack had persuaded her that given the unpredictable weather, most of his family wouldn’t be able to make the journey over, so she had relented.

You look so beautiful, hen, sighed Connie, her voice breaking with emotion as she studied Eilidh. She looked wonderful in her satin gown studded with seed pearls, floor-length antique-lace veil and diamond tiara. Her long hair was fastened in a chic up do with silver combs, and her make-up had been professionally applied so her blue eyes sparkled and her freckled skin glowed. I just wish your gran could have been here to see you. She would have been so proud.

Aye, I miss her too. It’s not the same without her here, Eilidh said, her voice thickening with emotion as she dabbed at the tears welling up her eyes with a handkerchief. Connie put an arm around her. Although she would have been ninety-seven, they had fully expected Marianne to be here today. Her sudden unexpected death in her sleep, six months’ earlier, had completely thrown not only Eilidh and Connie but also all their friends back in Mossbrae.

Aye, we’ll second that. She was a lovely lady, Grace said, dabbing her own eyes and passing them a box of tissues.

Like a grandmother to all of us, Robyn added as she sipped her champagne.

Aye, Eilidh nodded. Let’s have another of all of us raising a toast to my Gran, remembering her in her absence.

Aye, a grand idea, said Connie as she topped their glasses up. To Marianne!

To Marianne!

They clinked their glasses and drank.

Eilidh finished her drink and felt a pang of loss, wishing she were back in Mossbrae at this very moment, checking the hives and tucking into her grandmother’s homemade honey cake. Today didn’t quite feel the same without her.

She would have been so proud of you today, Grace said, putting an arm around Eilidh. At thirty-eight, she was the oldest of the three friends and had always been a mini-mother to them, even though Eilidh and Robyn were only three years younger than her.

She wouldnae be so pleased about the bees though, Eilidh murmured.

Maybe not, but she’d understand.

Eilidh smiled, and nodded sadly.

Over the years, thanks to Marianne’s guidance and expertise, she had become a successful beekeeper. She had set up her own business, keeping two hives and selling honey to local shops. However, Eilidh’s confidence evaporated when her biggest cheerleader passed, and the bees, as though sensing it, had swarmed, abandoning the hives. It had been a real low point and Eilidh had thrown herself into planning the wedding as a way of getting over her double dose of grief.

Och, I miss being there, Eilidh said. It won’t be the same when I come back for your wedding and she’s not at Honeybee Cottage.

Aye, Robyn replied. Have you thought any more about what you’re going to do about the cottage? For the past six months, Grace and Angus had been keeping an eye on the cottage whilst all the paperwork was sorted out.

Eilidh glanced at Connie now, feeling guilty that they hadn’t had chance to sit down and discuss it properly.

Actually, I have something for you, Connie said with a smile. Consider it a wedding present from Marianne.

What’s this? Eilidh asked as Connie handed her a white envelope.

Open it and find out!

Eilidh opened the letter, scanned it and promptly burst into tears, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle her shocked sobs. I cannae believe it! Gran’s left me the cottage?

Aye. She did.

But, why? Should it no’ have gone to you or Uncle Fergus? It was your family home.

No. We all discussed it a long while back and decided that you were the best one to own it. You were her only grandchild, after all, and you were very close.

But, but … Eilidh stammered, clutching the letter and flapping her hands in confusion. I dinnae ken what to say! She could hear White Christmas floating up the stairs and let out a wobbly sigh. She pictured Marianne’s face and felt a fresh wave of grief hit her.

You dinnae have to say anything, Connie assured her. Honeybee Cottage is yours if you and Jack want to live there. I know you have your life here in Edinburgh, but at least think about it. You could move in straight away, maybe even take up beekeeping again, right where it all began. It’s a beautiful village, and you know everyone already, so you wouldnae be surrounded by strangers …

Aye, I remember. I know, Eilidh assured her, and put the letter in her clutch bag. I’ll talk to Jack. I dinnae think work would let him commute from the Inner Hebrides, though I’d go in a heartbeat! Eilidh pulled her mother into a tight hug. Why not come with me?

Aye, I might just do that. I could live with you. Be handy for you once the weans come along, eh?

Och! Ma! Eilidh chuckled.

Connie smiled.

Surprise!

Eilidh turned and gave a shriek of delight at the sight of the tall figure in the doorway. Angus! You made it! She rushed to him, and he swept her into a tight hug.

I wouldnae have missed it for the world! You look beautiful!

At thirty-seven, Angus Kincaid was still at Cairnmhor Farm. He had been running it for the last two years, ever since Joe’s early retirement due to health problems. They kept two hundred Scottish Blackface ewes for meat, which was sold in the Cairnmhor Farm shop. Given Christmas was one of his busiest times, Eilidh hadn’t had much hope that he would be here tonight. The fact he had made the ferry crossing just for her made her tearful with gratitude for his friendship – all their friendships – which had spanned more than thirty years.

Thank you, Eilidh said, looking up at him as he towered over her. You look great too.

Angus, tall and muscular with closely cropped dark hair and warm dark brown eyes, looked ruggedly handsome in his groomsman’s outfit.

With a grin, he glanced down at his kilt. Makes a change from overalls, aye?

Definitely! You scrub up well!

They smiled at each other for a long moment, and then Angus’s face grew serious. How are you feeling? It must be a tough day for you today…

Aye, it is. But I’m coping,

Eilidh had always liked Angus but, then again, everyone did. He’s one of the good ones, her grandmother used to say – and she was right. Eilidh had yet to meet someone as kind, reliable and dependable. And he made a great cup of tea too.

I’m glad to hear it. Marianne would have been so proud of you.

Are we all ready? Fergus called from behind Angus. Connie’s older brother was giving Eilidh away today, standing in for her late father, Hector. She felt a jolt of pride seeing him in his smart dark suit jacket and moss-green and blue kilt, a white Christmas rose in his buttonhole.

Aye. We’re all ready, Eilidh said, collecting her bouquet.

Fergus smiled softly at her as she took his arm. You look wonderful, lass. I’m proud of you.

Thanks, Uncle Fergus.

Ready to see your hubby?

Eilidh nodded, blushing. Jack and the groomsmen were wearing traditional dress today and, with his dark hair and green eyes, Jack looked like Jude Law and absolutely gorgeous in a kilt.

I shouldae insisted on kilts for my wedding too, Robyn giggled as she fluffed her newly cut blonde hair and picked up her bouquet from the side table. Robyn and her fiancé, Orion, were getting married in March, back in Mossbrae. I might suggest it!

Go on! You’ll be happier for it! Eilidh chuckled. She turned back to Fergus. Let’s go!

The nerves in the pit of Eilidh’s stomach were just beginning to unknot as they reached the ceremony room. But then she saw Dan, Jack’s older brother and best man, leave the room looking anxious.

Eilidh,’ he said slowly. Dinnae panic, but there’s no sign of Jack. We’ve all been waiting for over half an hour, and he hasnae turned up."

He’s not here? Eilidh cried, feeling her blood run cold. Where is he?

Dan shook his head. We don’t know. Has he contacted you?

No. Grace, can I have my mobile? she said, as Grace handed her the mobile. She switched it on. There was a missed call and a voicemail, left only moments ago. Hang on, wait a minute…

Eilidh, it’s me. Jack’s voice was shaky on the other end of the line, and as she listened to it, Eilidh’s heart shattered into a million pieces. "I’m so sorry … but I cannae do this. I don’t mean to