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  “Now,” Gwynn O’Conners announced as she walked to where Nicole was holding the door open, “if you’ll get out of my way, I’ve got work to do. I just pray that you can find it in your heart to do what you know is right.”

  As Gwynn O’Conners walked through the door, Nicole called after her. “What if she chooses to be with me?”

  Laughing, Gwynn O’Conners called back to Nicole over her shoulder, “Why, I’d have to learn to live with it, wouldn’t I? But I know my daughter, and you would stand a better chance of getting ice water in hell than for that to happen.”

  As a growing sense of disquiet began to plague her mind, Nicole watched Mrs. O’Conners stalk to the greenhouse.

  = Chapter 11 =

  Taste nt

  Herbs—the whole plant or, in many instances, parts of the plant (stem, leaves, roots, berries)—provide the pleasure of fragrance and other comforts for the body and the psyche. The broader definition of herb includes trees, shrubs, and herbage. The naïve gardener is cautioned. Although many books on the market attest to the ingestible benefits of herbs, no herb raised in your own garden should be used without a thorough knowledge of its effects and dosage.

  Some of the easiest to grow and the most practical herbs offer both pleasure and medicinal benefit: comfrey, coltsfoot, peppermint, garlic, rosemary, catnip, chamomile, sage, horseradish, shallot, parsley, fennel, dill, chive, and cayenne.

  You do not have to feel poorly to use herbs. Herbs provide interesting additions to culinary efforts. Experimentation with sprinkling, rubbing, or simply adding fresh or dried herbs to traditional entrées, soups, and breads may provide an extraordinary revival of pleasure and interest in an otherwise simple meal. Experiment with care. Only add a little at a time so as not to alarm diners or overreach preferences of taste. Too much too soon might make future guests less eager to return to your table.

  There are a multitude of reasons to add herbs to your garden. It’s not simply a matter of providing delectable differences at mealtime. Herbs, because of their variety, also add colorful tones and fragrances to the space you’ve devoted to your gardening labors.

  Herbs are often used as companion plants to assist in the protection of nearby crops. You will want to do research to discover which herbs provide the best companionship with what varieties of fruits and vegetables.

  For starters, it is best to grow herbs organically, on a small scale, and develop one’s habits of harvest and drying before attempting quantity production. Herbs will thrive in soil that would normally be considered too harsh for typical fruits and vegetables. They can thrive on the smallest amount of nutrients but also appreciate well-drained and enriched soil. Naturally resistant to insects, hardy herbs can be expected with the tiniest bit of tender loving care.

  Herbs can be yearlong companions when you know them, grow them, use them, and preserve them. They will add much to the garden and home. You will come to appreciate them for their flushing and vivid colors, their savory ambience, and their evocative fragrances.

  Groundwork

  Mrs. O’Conners managed to divert Sally’s attention from Nicole, and Sally became remote to everyone and everything. Her conversations with Nicole were infrequent and dealt with her worries over the future of the farm. She evaded Nicole’s hints and suggestions that they go somewhere and talk, insisting that she was too busy to be diverted from her tasks. Nicole’s mood grew grim the first evening she noticed Bradley’s car parked in front of Sally’s house.

  Nicole absented herself from the farm for several days the following week. She would leave early in the morning and not return until late in the afternoon. She would go to the machinery sheds and work until late in the evening. She kept up the feverish pace and absented herself from mealtimes.

  There were plans afoot. Ideas she had been generating and investigating were coming together. All she needed and wanted was an opportunity to tell Sally the things she’d found out, the things she could arrange for, and to help make the farm whole again. She was willing to invest time, money, sweat, and tears to stay with Sally and be part of her life. If that was what Sally wanted. But first she needed the opportunity to talk with Sally, and that possibility seemed more remote than ever.

  Her heart was like a weight in her chest whenever she had reason to go to the greenhouse. Replacing several yards of corroded copper pipelines along the baseboards took several days worth of effort. Mrs. O’Conners never spoke to her; she insisted on ignoring her. The smirk on the old woman’s face seemed to say everything Nicole could not bear to hear aloud. Swayed, chastised, or coerced by her mother, Sally seemed to have receded into a frosty indifference.

  Two weeks later, on a Wednesday evening, when Nicole pulled into the driveway of the farm, she saw a black Le Sabre sitting in front of Sally’s house again. Her heart dropped as anger provoked her. She dropped the truck in gear and roared up the drive before coming to a skidding halt next to the vehicle.

  With her pulse racing and temples pounding, she managed with every ounce of her self-control not to rush into Sally’s house and confront Sally with her banker. In a moment’s worth of reflection, she realized she did not know what she would say to him or Sally without being reduced to tears.

  Anger overwhelmed her and was immediately replaced by a sense of loss deeper than she ever knew she could feel. What could she say to Sally? What difference would it make? Her shattering heart told her that Mrs. O’Conners had been right. She was nothing more than an interloper into Sally’s otherwise secure life. She saw herself as an anomaly in the acceptable society in which Sally lived. And then she understood how the fire drove Sally back to her old securities.

  Frustration coursed through her body. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles felt as though they would crack under the pressure. She trounced on the gas and gunned the engine.

  Nicole stormed into her cottage and headed for the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of bourbon from under the counter and poured herself a tall drink. The first taste shocked her throat, making her choke as angry tears sprang to her eyes.

  Her immediate inclination was to pack her bags, load her tools, and leave the farm before sunset. But she knew it was her outrage seeking release, and she knew she wouldn’t do it. She’d never walked away from a fight in her life. And win or lose, she wasn’t going to start now. The second swallow of bourbon eased her pounding head as she reminded herself that leaving would only further complicate Sally’s life. Bill Cornweir would not be able to return to work for several more months. If she left, she might destroy Sally’s opportunity to keep the farm operational. Leaving would be an act of betrayal. It would violate her lifelong code of ethics.

  Nicole walked over to the sink and poured the remaining bourbon down the drain. She didn’t want any more. She knew what she needed to do. It didn’t matter to her that her hopes and dreams might never come about. What did matter, she realized, was that she do what she had promised Sally in the first instance. She would manage the equipment and do what needed to be done until Bill Cornweir returned. She bit back the tears as she headed out the door to the solitary comforts of the lonesome pond.

  Later that evening, as Nicole worked under the glare of a bare bulb in the machine shed trying to tighten the tension of a mower’s idler pulley, she heard movement behind her. She turned around to see Sally walking toward her with a pot of coffee and a plate of sandwiches. As she laid down her wrench, Nicole tried to keep her heart from racing and her hands from trembling.

  “You didn’t come to supper, so I thought I’d bring supper to you,” Sally said nonchalantly as she motioned to Nicole.

  “I’m not very hungry,” Nicole said. She started to turn back to her work.

  “I know what you mean. I’ve had a little difficulty trying to find the energy or desire to eat lately myself,” Sally said, placing the plate of sandwiches on a workbench.

  “Your banker friend not much company?” Nicole asked and immediately regretted it. She didn’t want to fight w
ith Sally, and a war of words would be too easy to sink into. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t realize you’d come back before he left,” Sally said innocently. “But now that you ask, he had a very good reason for leaving early. I kicked him out.”

  “How so?” Nicole puzzled aloud, feeling a twinge of hope surface.

  Sally poured coffee into the two mugs she’d brought and handed one to Nicole. “You know,” Sally began, “sometimes that man makes me so mad I could spit. The bastard stopped by, bringing what he called good news and bad news.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Nicole asked hesitantly. The last thing Sally needed was more bad news. She figured she knew the good news for Sally but couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  “The bad news is that he’d been talking to Bill Cornweir. Seems as though Bill and his girlfriend Sheila Ray intend to get married.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad, leastways for them,” Nicole offered.

  “It does when you consider the fact that my friendly banker has helped him find a new job,” Sally said as her lips trembled.

  “He found him a job?”

  “Sure as hell did,” Sally bristled. “Behind my back, knowing that I’d expected him to come back to work. Said he’d been working on it with Bill for a month or more. Then he said it was in my best interests and that it gave us an opportunity to make new plans.”

  “How…how did he figure that?” Nicole asked as she readied her heart to hear what she’d been fearing for weeks.

  “He proposed. Said we’d make a great team and that he’d see to it that I’d never have to work again,” Sally said as she struggled to look Nicole in the face.

  “I see,” Nicole responded, swallowing hard.

  “No, you don’t, not yet,” Sally asserted. “That lousy little son of a bitch told me he had plans for the farm. Plans that would make us rich. Things like selling the farm, running a highway through here, and cutting the rest of it up into little pieces for tract housing!” Sally exclaimed, quivering with anger. “My farm! Our farm! The son of a bitch wants to destroy our farm!”

  Our farm? Nicole wondered. “And, you don’t want to?”

  “My God, no! I’ve never wanted that, and I sure as hell don’t want to marry him! It never crossed my mind.”

  “You didn’t…I mean, you don’t?”

  “No, not either one,” Sally announced, looking up into Nicole’s eyes. “I never wanted that. He was a friend. That was all. Oh, and a banker, that’s why I’ve been talking to him. I was concerned about the mortgage I’d taken out. It paid for the café, but we know what happened to it. Anyway, I needed some time to think and find out if we were going to be in any serious trouble with the place. I haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or drink without it preying on my mind every waking moment. Of course, now I find out just how much of a friend he was. We used to go to dinner…I suppose he always had an idea for more in the back of his head,” Sally said and then frowned. “No, I take that back. I can see now what kind of an idea he had in the back of his head. And it pisses me off. I kicked him off the property.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “Let’s just say he wasn’t too happy. We got into a bit of a shouting match. The warty little weasel tried to intimidate me. Imagine! He said I’d be sorry. I can’t imagine being any sorrier than if I had ever remotely considered life with him. That is not what I want.”

  “What do you want?” Nicole dared.

  Sally put down her coffee cup and walked around the workbench to where Nicole stood gripping her cup as though it might fly.

  “You,” Sally said softly. “I want you, and I want us to make this farm work. I want you by my side. I want you in my life, and I don’t ever want to hear about you wanting anyone other than me,” she responded as she took the cup from Nicole’s hands.

  “One thing for sure. You’re going to have to get better about talking to me when things bother you,” Nicole cautioned.

  “I know…I promise. This is the last time I let my fears and confusion keep us apart,” Sally said as she held out her arms.

  Nicole opened her arms and wrapped them tightly around her as Sally glided into them. “You sure you aren’t just looking to keep the only mechanic you have?” Nicole bantered lightly against the release of her fear. She kissed Sally’s cheek.

  “I can find a mechanic anywhere. What I couldn’t find, didn’t know I needed to find, was you and what I’ve been wanting all of my life. Can you handle that?”

  “Then we really have things to talk about,” Nicole said as she bent her head down to kiss Sally’s expectant mouth.

  “We certainly do,” Sally responded. She returned the fevered pitch of the kiss Nicole tendered.

  “Careful,” Nicole said, coming up for air. “If you keep that up, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

  “It is late,” Sally commented with a smile. “I suppose Gwynn Marian can spend the night by herself in the house. She’s a big girl. What say you and I spend a little quiet time alone.”

  “As you wish,” Nicole said.

  “It’s been too long. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Talking would be one thing. I have some things and plans of my own that I’d like to share with you.”

  “Is that what you call it?” Sally replied, laughing as Nicole hugged her with all of her might.

  “Good as any. I cleaned my cottage today. Would you care to inspect the premises?”

  “Well,” Sally said, looping her arm through Nicole’s, “it’s either there or here, and I’ve been missing you so…here looks pretty good, too.”

  “No, really. I’ve been working on some things and didn’t want to tell you until I had everything worked out. There may be a way for your to continue doing some of the things you did best at the restaurant but without having to work fifteen and twenty hours a day to get it done. I mean, if you want to. And you don’t have to wait for the insurance money to do it,” Nicole said as she escorted Sally to the cabin.

  “I don’t understand,” Sally confessed.

  “I’ll explain. It could be a wild and harebrained idea, but I wanted an opportunity to see what you think about it. It is your farm, so it is really your decision.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with selling all or part of the farm, does it?” Sally asked tentatively.

  “Not a bit, but it would make us partners in more ways than one,” Nicole cautiously approached the proposal.

  “Then I’d love to hear it,” Sally said. “But could we wait until I get you in bed?”

  “Absolutely,” Nicole said, smiling fiercely.

  * * * *

  At two o'clock the next morning, Nicole gently slid out of bed as she tried not to disturb Sally’s slumber. Something had disturbed her sleep. She sat still, listening and watching. Nothing but the sound of a light wind whistling through the trees came to her ears. Restlessly, she turned to Sally and, seeing her face in the moonlight, whispered her devotion.

  The first moment of wakefulness had sent her mind racing with the ideas and hopes she and Sally had shared earlier. After making love, and making love again, Nicole had told Sally about her ideas. She told her about the savings she’d acquired, the discussions with a Realtor about a small house that needed to be moved from its current location, and the costs of setting it up on the basement of the burned-out restaurant. She told Sally about spending her days down in Kansas City, Missouri, with storeowners, restaurateurs, and health-food consortia. Nicole explained how the ideas could fit together in a way that could get the farm back on its feet and satisfy Sally’s love of cooking.

  Sally had been very receptive to the ideas that Nicole had shared with her. She liked the idea of creating an organic bakery, leasing a building space at the River Market, and combining her love for cooking with creations from the farm for people and businesses in Kansas City. They both knew it was a long shot, that it would take hard work and dedication; but they felt th
e risks were worth it and there was nothing to lose if they stood together.

  Before she’d fallen asleep, Sally was planning the types of cheesecakes she’d bake along with the pesto she’d create to sell with the produce and bottled herb oils and vinegars for the shop. She’d talked about buying a new computer, going online to offer baskets of fresh, seasonal organic delights to the customers she could develop and the contacts Nicole had made at the River Market. This would provide an opportunity to stay in business and reduce the overall hours Sally spent working.

  The ideas leaped and swirled in Nicole’s mind again. In resignation, Nicole knew that sleep was not going to be immediately possible and quietly crept out of bed.

  She grabbed a T-shirt, wriggled into it, and headed for the kitchen. Her step was light as she skipped across the floor. Thoughts of work and the plans they spoke of were quickly replaced by the sweet memories of the other gifts Sally had bestowed on her that evening. She was almost tempted to return to the bedroom and see if she could lovingly coax Sally awake.