Wild in the Field Read Online Free PDF Page A

about to take over the state of Vermont.”
    Her sister chuckled. “It wasn’t supposed to get that big. It was just…I always loved it. The scent of lavender. The color, the texture, the look of it, everything. And right after the divorce, well, Simpson wanted the house to live with the bimbo. And I wanted nothing to do with him, so—”
    â€œVi. I know. And my offer to strangle Simpson stillstands. The point is, you wanted to start completely fresh, so you moved and came home….”
    â€œYeah. But when I moved here, there was really nothing specific for me to do, you know? The house was as empty as a museum, with Mom and Dad doing the retirement thing in Florida now. And for a while, the quiet was nice. I didn’t have to actually find work right away, since I got a decent settlement out of the divorce, but I still had to find something to do with my time. So I just started messing with seeds and roots and strains of things.”
    Violet could take five hours to tell a five minute story, so Camille interrupted again. “I know. You started your Herb Haven.” The store was a claustrophobic’s nightmare, gobsmacked from rafters to cellar with herbs hanging upside down and herbs hanging right side up, baskets and candles and cooking herbs and medicine herbs—chokes of stuff all over the place. She didn’t want to hear about it. “But you’re growing acres more lavender than you could ever sell in the store, Vi.”
    â€œI guess.” Violet smiled brightly. Then spooned a mound of an unidentifiable gourmet concoction on Camille’s plate. “It just sort of…exploded. I started with Mom’s original French lavender, mixed it with some strains Daisy sent me, then added some of my own. It was kind of like creating a kaleidoscope. A flower kaleidoscope. The strengths of one kind with the color of another with the texture of another. It was so much fun! Only I guess it’s gotten a little out of hand.”
    â€œA little? Are you calling twenty acres ‘a little’?”
    â€œI never thought it would grow,” Violet said defensively. “I mean, yes, I planted it. But I put it on that rocky east slope, not really thinking it had a chance ofgrowing, but just to have something to do with it. I mean, that spot of land wasn’t going to be used for anything because it was generally so hopeless. And the thing was, I had all these experiments in the greenhouse and they’d exploded on me. I had to have a place to put them. But I forgot….”
    When her sister stopped to chew, Camille said impatiently, “You forgot what?”
    â€œI forgot about the nature of lavender. It looks fragile and frail—but it’s actually a very tough plant. In fact, it won’t thrive at all if you pamper it. It has to have sun, of course, but otherwise it’s happiest if you just leave it completely alone. So that dry, rocky spot actually ended up perfect for it—”
    â€œViolet. The point is—it’s everywhere.”
    â€œOh, well. I guess. How do you like the potato salad?”
    â€œPardon?”
    Violet motioned. “The potato salad—it’s got dried lavender buds in it. I found the recipe from a really old French cookbook.”
    â€œThe salad’s fine.” Camille’s attention was diverted. “I don’t want you cooking for me. Taking care of me like this.” She added more clearly, “I hate it.”
    â€œI cook anyway. I like cooking. It’s no trouble.”
    â€œThat’s not the point. The point is, I’m not your problem. I’m no one’s problem.” She yanked her hair back, said lowly, fiercely, “I can’t work yet, Violet. I will. It’s driving me crazy, living off you, not pulling my share, but—”
    â€œOh shut up. How many times do I have to say it? The land belongs to all of us. You know how Mom and Dad set it up.