Ian brought the breakfast dishes to the sink. That was the closest he ever came to doing dishes directly. “I can’t believe you agreed to buy that boy a horse. Ask me, it’s proof you’ve completely lost your mind. But if you’re up for a horse, I might as well buy Simon and Sean a truck of their own. That okay with you?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe I’ll take them on a trip to Alaska next week, too.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going to be in the office this morning or out in the orchards or what? Where are you going to be?”
Pete shook himself awake, stirred from the window. “I’ll be working in the back office for at least an hour. But then I’m going to pick up a few truckloads of mulch and round up a crew.”
“Ah. For Camille’s lavender.” His dad almost choked on a guffaw, the sound so unexpected that Pete pivoted around and looked at him in surprise.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just think it’s pretty amazing. I could tell you the sun turned blue, and you’d never hear the conversation, but if I mention anything related to Camille, you’re all ears.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just because I’ve gotten old doesn’t mean I’ve lost all memory of what a young buck feels like. Tuesday was the first time you were gone all night since the divorce. I was pretty sure you weren’t playing dominoes.”
Pete opened his mouth to deny his dad’s assumption-off the cuff, he didn’t have a clear-cut lie on mind, only the intention to come through with a good one. Only his dad-the one who’d been trying to make the family believe he needed help to walk across a room-skedaddled from sight. In fact, he trundled in the other room so fast that Pete had no chance to think up any kind of good lie. For his dad.
Or for himself.
Camille saw the cars parked outside the Herb Haven, but she still trounced inside. For three days, she’d let herself stew and fester instead of confronting her sister. Naturally, she wouldn’t say anything directly in front of customers, but it was time to corner Violet and have it out.
She spotted Violet right away and motioned to let her know she was there, then just wandered up and down aisles, staying out of the way. Her sister was waiting on a guy. Camille could hear the man talking-he was apparently looking for a present for his wife. A girl present. Something that cost around fifty bucks and smelled good and that his wife would like-those factors seemed to sum up his entire descriptive criteria.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Jacob. I’ll fix you up.” Violet was wearing another one of her big, sappy hats- heaven knew why. She was also wearing lace-up shoes with heels, a vintage lace blouse, and earrings that hung to her shoulders.
Camille wouldn’t have worn the outfit in a coffin, but for a brief moment she felt like something a cat dragged in from the rain. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d loved her sassy business suits and spent a shameless fortune on shoes and jewelry. She’d always tended toward tailored pieces, sterling collars and single bangles, none of the froufrou and beads that Vi loved, but she’d never been unkempt or uncaring about her appearance, the way she was now. She caught a glimpse of her wind-burned cheeks and wildly tossed hair in a mirror and unconsciously touched her face, thinking of Pete-before swiftly turning away.
Violet seemed to know this Jacob. Camille thought she might know him herself-his voice and name sounded familiar, as if they might have gone to school together. Distracted, she watched her sister in action. Violet kept fussing over the guy until his face turned beet red, bemusing Camille. Vi was so completely different around certain people. She was smart. Maybe she was a little eccentric in a couple of minor ways, but she’d always had a big IQ. Around certain males, though, Vi seemed to talk in blond and behave in ways that deliberately scared men from having a normal conversation.
By the time Jacob left, Camille was so puzzled by her sister’s behavior that she almost forgot she was foot- tapping upset with her. Unfortunately, the shop was busy. After Jacob left, a plump grandma bought chamomile tea and evening primrose oil. Then a pair of women walked in. Finally, the store was quiet for a few minutes.
“Hey,” Vi started to say.
“You traitor. You sicced Pete on me. How could you?”
“Huh?”
“Three nights ago. When I said I was staying home. You threatened me that if I didn’t get off the farm, you were going to do something. But I thought you meant that you were going to do something ugly-like call Mom.”
“Why would I call Mom and worry her?”
“Well, that’s why I thought you wouldn’t! But then I thought you’d call Daisy.”
Violet slid behind the counter, where she’d obviously been creating dried herb and flower arrangements until the flood of customers. The counter was mounded with heaps of leaves and fronds and smelly stuff. “Actually, I did call Daisy.”
Camille’s jaw dropped. “You tattletaled on me to Daisy?”
“Uh-huh. Reach behind you on that top shelf for the spools of ribbons, okay? I need the gold and red and, hmm, maybe the pale orchid. And yes, I tattletaled to Daisy. We must have talked about twenty minutes, brainstorming ways to push you into going out in public again.”
“I would have gone into town when I was ready!”
“Maybe,” Violet conceded. “But the point is, this way worked. You went to town. I knew Pete could get you to do it. And I also thought it was probably a good idea for him besides-hand me the emerald ribbon, too, okay? And here. Cut it in foot-long strips…”
“I’m not here to cut your damned ribbon.” Camille grabbed the scissors. “What’d you mean about it being good for Pete?”
“You know.” Stems and leaves and sticks flew every which way. “Pete hasn’t been the same since the divorce. You know how he was in high school-Mr. Bad Boy. Always full of the devil, full of fun. He was never mean-not that kind of devil-but he loved to play, loved to party, had a little wild streak. He could charm a teacher out of giving a test. Skip school and not get in trouble-”
“Could you cut to the chase? I was in school with you guys, remember?”
“Well, he met Debbie in college. In the beginning they seemed real tuned. She was real gregarious, a life-of- the-party type. And I guess they were fine when they were first married. At least that’s how I heard it. But then they had the twins, and a year after that his mom died.” Violet shook her head. “Big life things, you know? Only it’s as if Pete grew up and she never did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you got my ribbons cut?”
Sheesh. It was like blackmail. Having to listen to all this extra chat and work, too. But she had to hand over the cut ribbons before Violet was willing to continue.
“Those babies…from the day the boys were born, Pete was just crazy for them. Everybody noticed. He was the one walking the floor at night, taking them to the pediatrician for their shots, taking them for walks, the whole shebang. As far as I know, Debbie wanted a baby, at least in theory, but maybe she didn’t realize how tied down she was going to be. And having twins made it worse.”
“How come I never heard any of this before?” Camille said impatiently.
“Everyone knew.”
“I didn’t.”
Violet took the mess of weeds and ribbon and some paper, and somehow, when she stuck it all in a vase, it looked like a zillion dollar florist arrangement…talking the whole time. “Cam, you were in college, and then you got that great marketing job, and then you were with Robert. You weren’t thinking about the stuff going on back home. Neither was I-when I was with Simpson. Anyway. It wasn’t just that Pete settled down after the boys were born. He also came back to White Hills because his dad needed help after his mother died. Debbie went nuts. Whining all the time about country life, nothing to do. Initially I’m not sure if Pete ever intended to stay here. It was more temporary, to help his dad.”
“But-?” Prodding Violet to get to the bottom line was like waiting for Congress to balance the budget.
“But he liked the land. And the boys just loved it here. And then he got into that other work-I don’t know what
