Wild in the Field Read Online Free PDF

Dad’s still positive that one of us will want to farm if he just waits long enough.” Violetadded, “And Dad’s always asking how you are. If you’re talking about Robert yet—”
    â€œDon’t.” Camille heard the sharp slap in her tone, but couldn’t help it. She wasn’t talking about Robert.
    â€œOkay, okay, take it easy.” Violet fluttered to her feet, pivoted around with another dish from the counter. God knew, it was probably more fish. “You need some money?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSpending money. Everyone needs spending money—”
    â€œI don’t need or want anything!” She jerked to her feet at the sound of a truck engine. Someone was coming, pulling into the driveway. She all but ran to the hall for the ragged barn jacket and cap.
    â€œCamille, come on, you don’t have to run away—”
    â€œI’m not running away. I just…” She was just having trouble breathing. Gusts of air felt trapped in her lungs, yet her heart was galloping at racetrack speeds. She didn’t want to be mean to Violet. She didn’t want to be mean to anyone. She just wanted to be left alone—where all that rotten moodiness wouldn’t hurt anybody. Where she didn’t have to work so hard to be nice, to be normal. She shoved her feet into the damp field boots and yanked at the back door—only to realize that someone was pulling the same door from the other side.
    She almost barreled straight into an oak-straight, oak-hard chest. “Whoa, Cam. Easy.”
    Even without jerking her head up, she recognized Pete MacDougal’s gentling tenor, somehow recognized the grip of his big hands steadying her shoulders.
    For the briefest millisecond she just wanted to fold into his arms—big, warm, strong arms. She didn’t wantto fight. She just wanted to be lifted, carried, swallowed up somewhere the anger couldn’t get her. But that millisecond was fleeting, of course. It was a crazy impulse, anyway.
    Even a moment with Pete hit her the way it had the first time, days ago. He was a slam of strong, vital male. A reminder of what she’d lost, what she’d never have again.
    She said nothing, just felt the panic squeeze tighter around her heart, and bolted past him and out the door.
    He called something.
    She ignored him. She ignored everything, just hurtled cross-field toward the cottage. Away from Violet. Away from Pete. Away from life.
    The way she wanted it.

Three
    P ete ambled out of his home office, rolling his shoulders to stretch the kinks out, and glanced at the kitchen clock. He thought it was around two. Instead, hell, it was almost three.
    The boys were due home from school, and this last week in April, the kids had picked up spring fever with a vengeance. Pete knew exactly how the afternoon was going to go. The instant Sean walked in, he was going to start up with his wheedling-whine campaign to get a horse. There wasn’t an animal born that boy didn’t want to raise—preferably in the house. Simon was going to start in with the earsplitting music, which would get the eldest MacDougal complaining, and Ian was already having a poor-me kind of day. Laundry hadn’t been done in a week, and when boys were of an age to have wet dreams, Pete had discovered that you’d best not wait too long to change the sheets and linens.And no one had bothered with the dishes since last night, either.
    The more Pete analyzed the situation, the more he realized the obvious. If he didn’t run away now, the opportunity threatened to disappear. Swiftly he yanked a jacket off the hook and escaped.
    Aw, man. When his lungs hauled in that first breath of fresh air, it felt like diamonds for his soul. For days it had been rainy and blustery cold, but now, finally there was some payoff. A balmy, spring breeze brushed his skin; the sun felt soft and liquid-warm. Green was bursting everywhere. Violets and