Damn, did I wake you up? I tried to be quiet. After all your traveling, I figured youd sleep most of the morning if you had a chance, she said.
You didnt wake me up, but the phone did. A call that early usually means trouble. Everything okay?
Just hunky-dory, she said lightly. And then had to sniff fast. Tears welled in her eyes before she could possibly stop them-not that she would. When she was a young girl, she hated being so impulsive and emotional, but these days, she knew the power of it. Men got shook up when they saw tears. They backed away from an emotional woman. It all worked out fine. Usually.
Hey. He saw the tears, and instead of looking frantic and freaked like any normal man, he walked slowly toward her. What are we talking here? Bad news, bad morning, what?
An idiotic mood, thats all.
Nobody died?
Nope.
Some idiot dump you?
God, no.
You hurt yourself? Another bee sting?
No. Nothing happened.
Someone called, he persisted.
Yeah. My ex-husband. To tell me that he and his wife had a baby. Their second. A son. They were very happy. And Im very happy for them. Tears welled up again. Announcing her happiness and crying at the same time should certainly have ensured that Cameron thought she was a fruitcake.
Instead, as if unconcerned whether she made any sense or not, he ambled past her, squeezing her shoulder momentarily when he passed by. And then started snooping. Poking at her pots and plants. Sniffing. Tasting. Literally tasting.
How could she help but be diverted? You usually eat dirt?
Yeah. Ive tried every fancy chemical test known to man, but sometimes the senses seem to tell the most important truth. A tastell tell me if the soil is highly acid or not. He moved on, doing more poking, more smelling, more snooping. These are more of your lavender experiments?
Not just lavender. Because she was still feeling emotionally shaky, her tongue seemed to get loose. Not that her tongue needed an excuse to talk incessantly, but this time there was an actual reason. Originally when I came home after the divorce, I didnt know what I wanted to do. Mom and Dad had retired south. This house was just left available for family. Dad wasnt ready to do anything else with it, thinking one of us girls could still want to live here. So it was perfect for me to move intoand I didnt have to rush getting a job, because Id received a big settlement from the divorce. Partly there was a lot of money because he wanted the matrimonial house himself, and I didnt, so I got that share. But whatever. I thought of that settlement as guilt money.
And was it?
Yeah. Big guilt on his part. But the point was, I came here and suddenly started remembering being a kid, trailing after my mom, all the pleasure we got out of growing things. Long term, I didnt have any idea what I was going to do for a career, but for a couple years the Herb Haven just hit me as right. A divorce is likedestroying something, you know? So I wanted to create something. Grow things. Do something purposefully constructive instead of destructive.
Youve got more than a green thumb, Cameron remarked.
Yeah. Its kind of a joke in the family. Everything I touch seems to reproduce tenfold. Again she felt a round of tears threatening. Come on, she said briskly. Ill show you the lavender.
First, I have to make you breakfast.
Pardon?
Breakfast. You havent had any. I havent had any. And since you put me up, Im cooking.
He made her crepes with blueberries. She sat at the table, lazy as a slug, letting him wait on her. It was another of the behaviors shed taken up after Simpson-not kowtowing to men; acting like a spoiled princess. All normal men-certainly all Vermont men-steered way clear of an obviously high-maintenance woman, but Cameronhe just didnt seem to be normal.
If he remembered those potent kisses from the night before-or if they meant anything to him-he never let on.
If he found anything odd in a woman wearing dangling marquisite earrings and a patchwork jacket and rubber boots and uncombed hair, he never let on about that, either.
Im going to need a place to set up a minilab. If I wont be in your way, I could use the potting room in your greenhouse-the old greenhouse we were in this morning. It seems perfect. Its got a sink and a longer counter for a work space, exactly what I need.
Itll be too hot there, she said.
Im not afraid of heat.
Youll get interrupted-
I can work around noise and interruptions.
Theres no comfortable chair. I cant make it into any kind of good working environment-
I dont need everything perfect. In fact, Im usually bored by perfection. Lifes a hell of a lot more interesting if we take the road less traveled, yes? Wasnt it a Vermont man who said that?
Well, yes, but Robert Frost was safely dead, which Cameron certainly wasnt. In fact, although Cam was talking about his workhe kept looking at her. At her eyes. At her unkempt hair. At her bare mouth. As if he were communicating that he liked complicated women. Uncomfortable, difficult women. Hot women. As if hed pegged her as less than perfect, the kind of woman who interested him.
Well, do what you want, she said crossly. She glanced at the clock and abruptly stood up. Thanks for breakfast, but I really have to go. I should have already opened my Herb Haven. Ill catch up with you later-
She started to turn away when he suddenly said her name, very quietly, very gently.
What?
I just want to make sure were clear. Youre okay with me working here. Living here. Setting up here for now.
Sure, she said.
We need to sign some agreements.
She motioned, an exasperated gesture. I dont care about legal stuff like that.
Yeah, you do. Because its about potential money for you and protecting your rights.
Well, I dont have time now. She took off, leaving him with the dishes and her house. Leaving him, surely, with the impression that she was flaky and emotional and not the kind of woman hed want to be involved with.
Hed readily established that he wasnt looking for involvement. But those kisses last night-she didnt trust them. It seemed wise to make absolutely sure there was a five-mile fence of emotional distance established between themso thered be no more kisses.
Not just for his sake. For hers. Because a man like Cameron reminded her of everything she couldnt have.
Cam always had an unspoken impression that small towns in Vermont were quiet, bucolic, peaceful.
Violets place was as peaceful as JFK International Airport on a holiday.
He made a quick trek to view her twenty acres of lavender, but he swiftly returned to the yard. He couldnt be that close to the lavender without making himself crazy. The field was breathtaking. She had plants close to harvest, florets already starting to open up, a few that were just days away from the perfect time to extract oil from and test. But he didnt feel right about touching the lavender until theyd both signed some legal agreements. Violet could trust him not to take advantage of her, but of course, she had no way to know that.
Sometime that day he simply had to trap her alone and sit on her until hed made all the contract issues clear for her.
Until then, he figured he could spend the morning setting up. His gaze kept wandering around the yard and house and property as he unpacked his car and started carting equipment into the old greenhouse. It was odd. Normally he didnt much care where he was. Every place was new and interesting and involved different challenges. But there was something about her place-the land, the buildings, the whole feeling here-that provoked the strangest feeling.
Hed never been drawn to a place, partly because hed always been bulldog stubborn about not becoming dependent on physical possessions. But damn. Some of the buildings showed wear and tear, the original house showed generations of character and age, but all of it looked well loved. The property kept striking him as a spot where a man could come and find a place for himself, feel as if he belonged.
Cam had never belonged anywhere. Never known he even wanted to. Of course, maybe his immune system was down and he was catching some annoying bug that was messing with his mind. He kept working.
Unfortunately, he always had to travel heavy. His clothes could be stuffed easily enough into a duffel bag, but he had to cart enough equipment to set up a minilab, and although hed deny it to the death, he was just a wee bit fussy about his equipment. His microscope had cost a fortune-and was worth every penny, because his testing chemicals had to be exactly right. And he couldnt possibly carry around a full-scale distillation process, but hed created a small, efficient steam distiller so that he could extract oil from small amounts of lavender.
Strangers assumed his old Birks and practical khakis meant that he was a totally laid-back personality. And he was. Hed been determined to convince himself for years that he was-except for his work, where Cam figured he had a reasonable excuse to be a perfectionist.
Setting up should have been a piece of cake after doing it around the world all these years, but this morning, it seemed, one humorous problem followed another. To begin with, Violets cats-for some God unknown reason-decided to hang with him. The old greenhouse had a lot of character, with a brick base and brick walkways and a nice, long concrete slab for a work space. But six of her mammoth, hairy cats sat on the greenhouse counter next to the sink, supervising every move he made. Worse yet, they wanted the water turned on. Regularly. Not a gush of water. A skinny little thread. And after one took her time getting a drink, it seemed the next one wanted her turn.
The herd of cats seemed to get thirsty about every twenty minutes.
By ten oclock he hadnt accomplished much of anything. He suddenly looked up and noticed a girl leaning in the doorway. She was a young teenager, somewhere around fourteen, he guessed. She looked younger than spring grass, with eyes big as beacons, frothy brown hair and shorts two sizes too tight.
Hi. Im supposed to get some twine from in here. She motioned to the old cupboards above the sink.