Wild in the Field - Jennifer Greene

Jennifer Greene

Wild in the Field

The first book in the Scent of Lavender series, 2003

Dear Reader,

Thank you for choosing Silhouette Desire-where passion is guaranteed in every read. Things sure are heating up with our continuing series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES. Eileen Wilkss With Private Eyes is a powerful romance that helps set the stage for the daring conclusion next month. And if its more continuing stories that you want-we have them. TEXAS CATTLEMANS CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY launches this month with Sara Orwigs Entangled with a Texan.

The wonderful Peggy Moreland is on hand to dish up her share of Texas humor and heat with Baby, Youre Mine, the next installment of her TANNERS OF TEXAS series. Be sure to catch Peggys Silhouette Single Title, Tanners Millions, on sale January 2004. Award-winning author Jennifer Greene marks her much-anticipated return to Silhouette Desire with Wild in the Field, the first book in her series THE SCENT OF LAVENDER.

Also for your enjoyment this month, we offer Katherine Garberas second book in the KING OF HEARTS series. Cinderellas Christmas Affair is a fabulous it could happen to you plot guaranteed to leave her fans extremely satisfied. And rounding out our selection of delectable stories is Awakening Beauty by Amy J. Fetzer, a steamy, sensational tale.

More passion to you!

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

One

Once a month, Pete MacDougal braced for a full-scale rebellion. And once every month, he got it.

Only the nature of the weapons and attacks varied. The look on the faces of his fourteen-year-old sons was always the same: A never-give-in-determination in the eyes, an unrelenting stubbornness in the chins, a cocky attitude written on their every feature.

It was bad enough to have two teenagers in the house, worse yet to have twins, but the real insult was that the kids took after him. It just wasnt fair.

Look, Dad. You just dont get it. Youre missing the point of living without women. Were supposed to be free.

Uh-huh, Pete said, and from his key position in the front hall, slapped a mop and bucket in Simons hands. His sidekick-and Sean was the absolute spitting image of his brother except for one errant cowlick-was trying to slowly back away from the vacuum.

Come on, Dad. Remember about free? Were supposed to be free to be ourselves. Free to not eat vegetables. Free to not do dishes until we run out. Free to wear our boots in the house. Free to live how we want.

The vacuum nozzle was slapped into Seans hand-but Simon elbowed in front of him. You always said we should think for ourselves, remember, Dad? Well, we finally got a day off from school because of the blizzard, so I think the last thing we should be doing is cleaning.

Sean accidentally let the vacuum nozzle drop. And, like, whats the point, you know? As soon as you clean, the dirt comes right back. Whats wrong with dirt anyway? I like dirt. Simon likes dirt. Gramps likes dirt. Youre the only one-

Dirt keeps the women away, right, Dad? Like an apple keeps the doctor awa-

Enough. Ive had it with the lip. Pete knew hed lose his temper. He always did. The only question every month was when. I dont want to hear another word. Unless you both want to be grounded for the rest of your lives, the floors are getting washed and the carpets vacuumed. And the bathrooms-hell, the health department wouldnt go near your bathroom upstairs. It stinks. Now move it-

Im not doing the bathroom, Sean told his brother.

Well, Im sure not-

Petes voice raised. BOTH bathrooms upstairs. And I want all towels and dirty clothes down the chute- He saw the bucket crash down on Simons head, followed by the mop cracking over Seans. Yowls followed-both of them sounded like tomcats auditioning for a back alley fight. The yowls inspired more blows, followed by desperate claims of pain, followed by pokes and giggles and more desperate claims of pain.

NOTHING is going to get you out of chores, do you hear me? And I dont care if it takes until midnight-this house is getting cleaned up. If I have to knock your heads together-

Both kids knew damn well he never had and never would knock their heads together, but usually the threat got their attention. It didnt work this afternoon. The senior MacDougal unfortunately chose that moment to poke his head over the banister. Ian leaned heavily on his cane and looked more frail by the week, but he offered full-bellowed support to the boys on the benefit of dirt and the joys of life without women. Ian MacDougal was inarguably the most worthless grandfather this side of Poughkeepsie. Worthlessbut popular. The boys immediately begged their grandfather to take their side against their slave-driving, cruel, unfair, uncaring, unreasonable father.

Im so sick of hearing this malarkey every month that I could punch a wall. The place is a sty. There is NO argument, and that goes for you, too, Dad. Now, all of you, GET TO IT.

Well, they finally budged, but whether the old farmhouse would end up destroyed or cleaned, Pete wasnt sure. The boys clattered upstairs, dragging tools and utensils to make the maximum possible racket. The minute they were out of sight, a series of dramatic noises followed. The source of the noises wasnt clear, but seemed a possible cross between trumpeting elephants, screaming banshees, bloodthirsty soldiers and whining brothers. A stereo blared on, followed by a television-both played at volumes that could be heard over a vacuum cleaner. Or a sonic boom, Pete mused.

He almost missed the sound of the doorbell-actually, he almost didnt recognize it. No one used a doorbell in White Hills, Vermont-at least not at the MacDougal house. Particularly on a snow-stormy day in March when even the sturdiest New England farmer was holed up inside.

When he yanked open the front door, fistfuls of snow were hurled in his face, which didnt shock him half as much as his visitor.

Pete? I need to ask you a favor.

Well, sure. Come on in. The Campbells had the neighboring property-in fact, the Campbells and the MacDougals had probably come over on the same ship from Scotland a million generations before. Long before the American Revolution, for damn sure. The MacDougals tended to raise sons, where the Campbells favored having daughters. Pete had grown up with three Campbell sisters himself, had gone to school with Violet.

Hey, Dad! Whos at the do-? Sean started to scream down the stairs, galloped halfway, then saw who was standing in the doorway. Hey, Ms. Campbell, he said at a lower decibel level.

Hey, Sean.

Sean disappeared. The vacuum died. The stereo died. The TV died. All signs of life silenced. They were all afraid of Violet Campbell. Violet was Well, Pete wasnt sure how to explain Violet to his kids. Shed always seemed normal in high school, but a few years ago, shed come back home after a divorce with the brains of a poodle. Like now, on a day colder than a witchs heart, she wore her blond hair flowing down her back, flighty boots, earrings almost too big to make it through the doorway and a pretty purple coat that couldnt keep a goose warm. She was about one hundred pounds of froufrou, and on sight threw Petes all-male household into a panic attack.

Except for Pete. How could you be scared of somebody youd gone to school with? Itd be like rejecting a sister. Whether she was weird or not was irrelevant. Automatically he ushered her inside and closed the door, facing her with resigned patience. Take off your coat. You want coffee? By this time of day its thicker than mud, but itll still be hot- The instant he caught a straight look at her face, he changed gears. Whats wrong?

Thanks, but I dont need coffee. I wont stay long. She pulled off her gloves, obviously on edge, revealing four rings on each hand. Immediately, her hands began fluttering, as restless as a trapped canary. Whats wrong is my sister, Pete. Camille. I need to drive down to Boston for a few days.

One minute Pete was fine. The next he felt as if someone had slugged him in the stomach. Just hearing Camilles name could do that. Violet may have been like an honorary sister to him, but Camille sure wasnt. Hell. Everybody said Cam was finally doing okay. Is she sick? Hurt? What can I do?

Violet shook her head. I only wish you could do something. Im about beside myself. And Im scared to drive in this icy weather, but I have to go there. Get her to come home. It may take me a couple of days or more. I dont know. But the thing is, Im leaving my business, the greenhouses, my cats-

Forget it. Ill take care of that stuff.

The greenhouse temperature has to be-

Violet, Ive done it for you before. I know what to do, what to watch for. He was annoyed she felt she had to ask. MacDougals had been taking care of Campbells for years and vice versa. Thats how it was in White Hills. After everyone finished fighting over sex, religion and politics, they still took care of their neighbors. And Pete knew perfectly well how temperamental her greenhouses were to caretake, so he sure as hell didnt want to waste time talking about it. What happened? I thought Camille was finally on the mend. I mean, obviously, she had a hell of a time. But its been months since whozit died-

Violet unbuttoned the top of her jacket, took a long breath. I know. We all thought that was the rough part. Her losing Robert like that. Barely married a year, so much in love, and then to lose everything in a stupid street robbery. Violets eyes welled up. She loved him so much.

Yeah. I heard. Pete saw the tears, and figured hed better do something quick and drastic before she started really crying on him. But a burst of mental pictures flashed through his mind, ransoming his attention and his heartbeat both. All he could think about was Camille.

Cam was four years younger than him-which meant, when they were in school, that hed have been way out of line to look at her in a personal way. But he remembered her wedding. She hadnt been too young then. Shed looked like Gods gift to a sexy wedding night-deeply in love with her groom-full of laughter and light, full of secret smiles and sexual promises, her face glowing and her gorgeous dark eyes softened with love.