I am so sick of this. You snap at me, Ill snap right back, you no-count worthless mutt. You think lifes treated you so terribly? Well, big frigging deal. I lost everything When he stopped growling, she took a quiet step toward him.
So the owner you loved turned mean and now you dont trust anyone. Thats tough. Real tough. She took another step. Then another. But the guy I loved was killed by strangers. The court system barely slapped their hands. Ill never feel safe again as long as I live. I literally lost everything-my job, my husband, my life. Myself. Calmly, slowly, she sponged the soapy water on his neck and back. The dog went still, rigid as stone, eyes tracking her with the fierceness and anger of a predator. So dont waste that stupid attitude on me. Im tired of it. You think lifes unfair? I agree. You think lifes not worth living? I agree. You just want to be left alone to be miserable-man, I agree with that, too. And Ill leave you completely alone. But you have to have a bath first, because Im the one trying to sleep under that window there. Ive been living with that smell ever since you got here. Ive had enough
It wasnt as if she were sweet-talking the darn dog. She was being plenty mean and tough. She just happened to be using a crooning tone of voice, because as long as she kept talking, he stopped growling and was letting her wash him. Maybe he was just sick of being filthy, who knew? But her heart was beating hard enough to implode-it wasnt easy getting this close to the dog, when she had every reason to fear it might attack her. Still. She had to try something. The wild, despairing rage in its eyes-she couldnt stand it anymore. She understood it. All too well.
Im not going near your face or eyes, so dont get your liver in an uproar. Just a little more now. Then Ill rinse you off and leave you alone. Ill be darned, I thought you were almost all brown. But youre more than half blond, arent you, you low-down, ornery-
From behind her, she heard the sound of a gate unlatching.
boneheaded, pea-brained, worthless
And then she heard the quiet clomp of a boot on her porch.
lazy, stubborn DAMN IT, KILLER! She had a pretty good grip on the dog, but her hands and the dogs coat were both slippery, and suddenly Killer bolted, knocking over the bucket of soapy water. On her. Followed by his shaking all over. On her. And then the dog just stood there, staring at her, sopping wet with his tongue hanging out. As if they were friends. As if hed forgotten all about wanting to rip her throat out and how much he hated her and all humans and everything else.
And then she heard another sound coming from behind herthe rumble of a mans throaty, wicked, evil laughter.
Whew. Pete tried to choke back the laugh, because she turned on him faster than a man could spit.
Whats so funny, Pete MacDougal?
He cocked a foot forward. You. Saw a cat fall in a well once. It didnt look half as drowned as you do. Well, that was a complete lie. She was wet, yes, but she looked damned adorable, with her spiky hair and the animation and color in her cheeks. More to the point, shed broken his heart with how much shed revealed about herself when she was talking to the dog. And broke his heart more, seeing her still trying, so hard, to be tough, to not feel or care, when it was as obvious as sunshine she cared so much she was crying from the weight of it.
Dadblamit, MacDougal! Im not going to take any more insults from you!
He blinked. Actually, I just got here, so really, Ive only had a chance to insult you once. And then, what can I say? You are wetter than the dog. Got more suds and mud on you than the dog twice over. But I dont recall say anything else-
Well, you didnt. Today. But you sure filled your boys ears last week!
She shot past him so fast he didnt have a chance to register more than a Huh? More interesting, since shed neglected to forbid him inside the door, he trailed in after her.
Years ago, hed seen the inside of the cottage. A great-grandmother had lived there for years, had still been around to hand out cookies and candy at Halloween when hed been a kid. He remembered the place as being small, but full of color and light.
Now the whole fireplace wall was stacked to the ceiling with moving boxes-Pete assumed that Camille still hadnt unpacked from Boston. The windows looked washed, but otherwise the level of dust rivaled his sons housekeeping. He saw boxes for fancy kitchen equipment, like the latest in coffeemakers and pasta makers and toast makers and all those other makers-yet none of that was unpacked. In fact, through the doorway of the old-fashioned kitchen, he could see a battered stainless coffeepot on the old stove that was too pitiful to be called an antique.
So she was still camping out. Still not actually living anywhere. At least emotionally.
Pete pushed a hand through his hair, waiting. Camille had disappeared into the bedroom-he could hear her muttering through the half-closed door. Eventually he saw a soggy lump of cloth hurled on the floor, followed by another.
When Cam finally reemerged, she was barefoot but at least dry, wearing worn jeans and a dry shirt. It was another one of those shirts that must have been her dads, because the old blue chambray looked soft as a babys butt, frayed and shapeless.
He hadnt figured out yet whether she was trying to be as ugly as possible, or if she was unconsciously trying to cover herself with comforting things-like the clothes that had belonged to her father.
Pete could have told her that the ugly goal was completely unattainable and doomed to failure. Those dark eyes and pale skin and that soft, vulnerable mouth took his breath every time he saw her. But that she might be trying to cover herself with comforting things made him think about her father. Colin Campbell was a good guy. Pete had always thought of him as an honorary uncle, although he hadnt seen him since the Campbells retired and moved south. Colin, though, had always been a strong, protective father with his daughters-so much so that Pete wondered if her dad even realized how much pain his baby daughter was in.
Of course, try to be nice to her and you could get your head bitten off. He knew better than that-so when she showed back up in the doorway, he said immediately, What were you talking about, implying that Id filled my boys ears about you? What did they tell you? That Id put you down in some way?
Not exactly. Just forget it. She didnt flip him a finger, which Pete thought was progress. And she was carrying a brush, which also seemed to be progress, a sign that she cared what her wild thatch of thick, short hair looked like-except that she shook the brush at him en route to her kitchen. I dont want your sons helping me with the lavender.
You dont like my boys? Immediately he stiffened.
I dont like anyone, so dont take it personally. Your boys are terrific. Although if I were you, Id get the damn horse for Sean before he nags you into an early grave. And dont be telling Simon any secrets, because hell tell anyone anything-
Yeah, in fact, I already heard from Simon that youve been feeding them delicacies they never get at home.
Thats a complete lie. I only brought them some sandwiches and stuff because they were working so hard, she said defensively. And because theyre boys. And being boys, they seem to be hungry all the time.
Obviously she thought hed accused her of being kind, because the teakettle got slammed in the sink. And once the kettle was filled, it got slammed on the stove. And then a mug got slammed on the counter. One mug. He couldnt help but notice that she didnt offer him any.
I havent starved either kid. I swear. No matter what they told you, he said deadpan.
She rolled her eyes. The point is, that I dont want them working on the farm. I mean it, Pete. Its not right, unless I could pay them. And I positively cant afford to pay them.
Ive been paying them-
I know that. And its even more wrong. I dont want your charity, and the whole lavender thing isnt your problem.
Okay, I know how to settle this, Pete said peaceably. Ill go ask your sister-
As expected, she promptly paled in horror, and dropped a spoon. Come on. Dont sic Violet on me. Thats not fair.
He scratched his chin. Well, see, there we have a problem. Because I either have to talk to your sister or to you. There are some decisions that have to be made on all that lavender. I have to ask one of you before going ahead-
What in Gods name are you trying to interfere with now? she asked, obviously exasperated. In fact, so exasperated that she seemed to blindly set down a second mug in front of him. And once the hot water bubbled, she even stirred in some instant coffee for him.
He took a sip of the sludge. Her coffee was almost-almost-as bad as his. Well, there are three things we have to decide. The first is, your sis is going to have to invest in mulch, because youve got good drainage there, but not good enough for lavender. Then, assuming you actually want to make something of that mess, you need soil with a pH around six point five, which I havent tested for. But I suspect-knowing the nature of my land next to that acreage-that youre going to need to side dress the plants with some lime.
He watched her sink into the scarred chair across the table. Violets eyes would have crossed at the first mention of soil pH and lime. Not Camilles. She not only knew land; she had a sense for it that neither of her sisters had. It was pretty obvious, though, that she hadnt thought through the long-term dimensions of the lavender problem. Still, she responded swiftly. I can do all that without help.
Yeah? He figured she had the strength to mulch twenty acres like a cow could fly.
I can, Pete.
Uh-huh. At one time, the little kitchen had been a cheerful oasis. Now, the sink had rust stains; the paint was peeling and the floor needed to be redone.
You think my dad raised a couch potato? Maybe its been a few years, but I know how to fertilize and mulch and all. I just didnt
You didnt know the lavender was going to need it. And neither, apparently, did your sister. Shes not a couch potato either, but as far as I know she never steps into a field if she can help it. Which brings us to our main problem-