They both immediately jerked upright. Hey, Ms. Campbell! Damn, but they were startlingly alike. Except one had a cowlick-the same one who pushed a step forward, with an agonizing-red blooming on his cheeks as if he normally died from having to speak to strangers. Hi, Ms. Campbell, I saw the dog in your yard.
She still intended to throw them both off the property, but obviously that comment forced her to recognize a greater priority-their safety. Good grief-you guys didnt try to go close to Killer, did you?
No, the shy one spoke up again. I meant-I saw what you did with the snow fence. Making a yard for him and all. That was cool. Giving him a way to get some exercise so he didnt always have to be tied up.
Camille perched a fist on her hip. She didnt need praise from some baby-aged kid for hauling five tons of snow fence, all to create a stupid yard for a mangy, worthless, violently aggressive mutt who hated her and everyone else. She needed someone to give her a whack upside the head for being so crazy. But before she could correct the boys misconception of her, his brother pushed ahead of him. This one was just as good-looking and gawky, but he didnt have a cowlick-and no shy blush on his cheeks. We shoulda said who we were. Im Simon. Thats Sean. Seans the one who found Darby. Dad says hes always finding trouble.
Am not.
Are, too. Simon poked him, then kept talking as if the two of them regularly conducted conversations while socking each other. See, we heard about Mr. Chapman being taken to a rest home. But its like nobody remembered that he had a dog, until Sean did. Mr. Gaff let us in the house. Sean found Darby in the back room, locked in, all dirty, no food, no water. Hed turned wild like. In fact, I thought he was gonna kill Sean. Not that that wouldnt be a good riddance and all-
Sean slugged him. Simon slugged back. Camille rubbed two fingers on her temples, wondering when and how she was going to throw them off the property, when so far she couldnt even get a word in.
And Simon kept right on talking, even as he was being slugged. Anyway, the pound loaned us this leash they use on wild or sick animals. Its like any other leash, except that it has this stick thing attached so the dog can lunge, but not so close he can bite you. Anyway, then Sean brought it home-
Sean finally ventured another comment. -And Simons gonna tell you that Dad was mad at me. Which he was. But its like no biggie. Dad always has a cow when I bring home another animal. The point is that Dad figured out right away that youd be the perfect person to adopt Darby.
Sean finally ventured another comment. -And Simons gonna tell you that Dad was mad at me. Which he was. But its like no biggie. Dad always has a cow when I bring home another animal. The point is that Dad figured out right away that youd be the perfect person to adopt Darby.
Camilles jaw dropped. Your dad said what?
He said youd be the one person who could save Darby. I mean, I could save him, too. But weve already got dogs and cats and raccoons and homing pigeons and all, and like, obviously, Darby is too ornery right now to be around other animals. So we couldnt take him. There was just no way. And thats when Dad said you were the perfect one. Because you were the only one in White Hills who was even meaner than Darby.
Again her jaw dropped. He said what?
Yeah, cool, huh? I wasnt convinced, because youre a woman and all. But then Dad explained that youre not really like a woman.
This time her voice seemed to raise a complete octave. He said what?
The brothers exchanged glances, as if suddenly aware she didnt sound thrilled with the conversation. The one without the cowlick-Simon-seemed to be inherently elected to handle difficult verbal situations with adults. Dad said youre okay. Like, look at you. You dress like a guy. Youve got dirty boots. Your hairs all messed up. Youre ornery. I mean, youre practically like us.
Sean nodded, as if anxious to clear up this problem of potentially offending her. See, once Mom took off, we all just said screw it. We dont need or want women in our lives, you know? Because Dad was, like, way depressed. And now hes fine. The whole trick was getting rid of women.
Simon finished up the explanation. Now do you get us? If you were like a woman, wed never have trusted you to take Darby.
I see. Actually, what Camille saw was that a chill wind was scooching over the hill; it was nearing the dinner hour; she hadnt gotten a lick of work done; and now she had to translate fourteen-year-old-teenage-boy lingo into something an adult might understand. That godforsaken dog was clearly a prize. To them. And that she was apparently too unkempt and ornery to be like a woman was a giant compliment. To them.
Okay. Anyways Both boys suddenly turned around and picked up their clippers again.
Whoa. Wait a minute there-
Its okay, Ms. Campbell. We know what to do. Dad called the county extension office, and this guy talked to all of us about lavender, how its grown, what to do and everything.
We know its a flower. Neither of us wanted to work around anything sissy like flowers, but its not your fault, after all, that your sisters so bonkers-
Simon, shut up. Youre insulting her family, you nimwit.
Oh. Simon glanced back, stricken. Hey, I didnt mean anything. I meant to say how sorry I was for you. Your sister scares all of us, and you have to deal with her all the time. It cant be easy.
Anyways Sean started clip, clip, clipping as he talked. We learned a bunch of junk. It was pretty interesting, about how theres English lavender and French lavender and Spanish lavender. What you got here is apparently all kinds of crossbreeds.
And what we have to do is lop off about a third from the top and sides. Simon glanced at her clippers, shook his head. Yours arent sharp enough. They have to be good ones. But back to the job. We have to cut the stems back to a few inches from where the woody part starts. See?
He motioned, and stayed hunkered down like that until she came over, scowling, and bent down to have a look. Then he went on. This is like a big mess. Itll take three years to get it back, the county guy said, but you can do it if its worked right. Lop the sides and top. Then the stems back. Then next year, you do another third. Then by the third year, itll be vible again.
Vible?
Vi-a-ble, Sean said disgustedly. He gets Cs in English. Hes so stupid.
Am not.
Are, too. Anyways, Ms. Campbell, you really got a lot of this lavender.
She tried wildly waving a hand to get a turn in. I know I do, but I dont need you boys!
They stopped working abruptly, but both of them looked crushed. Dads paying us, Ms. Campbell, so you dont have to. And its either this or we have to clean the bathrooms and do the wash. I mean, come on. We really work good. I promise. And we can get here most afternoons by like three-fifteen or so. You wouldnt fire us before you even gave us a chance, would you?
For Petes sake. Shed like to throw up on the whole damn world, but how was she supposed to be mean to two motherless brats? You two cant possibly do this whole twenty acres and thats that. You can work for an hour in the afternoon sometimes. IF you want to. When you want to. And only if it doesnt interfere with your damned schoolwork, you hear me?
Yup, they both heard her. They were both nodding like bobbing corks.
And I never said damned either!
More exuberant nodding. Hell. It was all she could do not to slick down Seans cowlick and jog up to the house to bring cookies to the brats.
She stormed back to the cottage, thinking that this just wasnt going to work. She knew it. But this was Petes doing, so the only way she could stop it was to go directly to Pete.
And that meant risking being near him-not that hed want to kiss her again. Considering that he apparently thought of her as an unkempt, ugly, genderless nonwoman, it was astounding that hed wanted to kiss her the first time. Nevertheless, once youd been stung by a mosquito, you knew what the itch was like and obviously avoided it a second time if you could.
She could put up with the boys. For a while. Anything was better than risking getting too close to Pete again-at least until she figured out what the Sam Hill that kiss had been about.
Camille waited the dog out for three more days, but by Saturday afternoon, shed had it. When the temperature climbed to a reasonably warm seventy-six degrees, she pulled on ragged shorts and a black tee, then carted outside a bucket, flea shampoo, rags and a hose.
Killer-alias Darby-had been allowing her to bring food and water, particularly if the food included ground round, and hed quit snarling in her presence. But coming close enough to touch him was a different proposition. He bared his teeth when she stepped off the cottage porch, and bristled into a hair-ruffed growl when she got within five feet.
She stopped there. Temporarily. Look, she said irritably. You stink. You stink so bad I can smell it through the windows. Ive had it with this whole attitude thing. If you think you can out-mean me, buster, youve got another think coming. Now youre getting a bath today, and I mean to tell you, thats that.
Growl, snap, snarl. Growl, snap, snarl.
Camille pushed back her hair, put her hands on her hips, and growled right back. Her voice was deceptively as soothing as a whisper. You want to tear me apart? she demanded. Well, where youre making a mistake, Killer, is thinking that I care. If you were a person, my dad would be calling you a sumph. You know what that is? In Scottish, its the word for a half-wit. Because thats how youre behaving. Half-witted.
Shed been talking to him for days, knowing he was completely ignoring her, but she didnt turn her back on the dog. She wasnt that stupid. Quietly she bent down, added the flea shampoo to the warmish water in the bucket, and dunked in the rag. Killer stopped snarling-until she took another step closer-and then he resumed the fierce warning growls.
Shed been talking to him for days, knowing he was completely ignoring her, but she didnt turn her back on the dog. She wasnt that stupid. Quietly she bent down, added the flea shampoo to the warmish water in the bucket, and dunked in the rag. Killer stopped snarling-until she took another step closer-and then he resumed the fierce warning growls.