Jennifer Greene - Wild in the Field

“You’ve got that right. In fact, I suggest we go straight to my place so you can pick up the damn cat.”

“That makes sense,” Pete said.

He didn’t, of course, mean it. He managed to finagle the keys to Camille’s car, but only because she blindly assumed he was one of the guys who had to drive. Which was true, but in this case, his male thing about driving had nothing to do with it. He needed her to go along, and she did that because she assumed they were driving to her cottage.

They weren’t. But his mind galloped around a mental racetrack, a thousand miles an hour, figuring out what to do from here. To get her away from the boys and his father-that was a given. But what to do with her then was a complete unknown.

He turned the key on her car and heard the engine hesitate. He had to bite back a comment about her needing new tires and a tune-up. Only the man in her life had a right to nag her that way. To yell at her about stuff like that. To watch over her.

And that sure as hell wasn’t him.

She suddenly turned to look at him. “Pete, you passed right by the road to the cottage.”

“I know. I figured we’d go somewhere quiet for a few minutes. Not for long-but I’d like to talk to you where no one’s likely to interrupt us, and that includes both my family and yours.”

“Oh, well…” She looked as if she considered objecting, but then changed her mind.

That didn’t surprise him. There was showdown written all over her. Her eyes were snapping fire. Her jeans were as threadbare as everything else she wore, but there was attitude in her hips-pure female attitude, and she was tossing her hair every step-until she got in the car, when she folded her arms in that make-my-day-mess-with-me posture she could get.

He knew-he’d always known-that they couldn’t continue on the track they were on for long. Being a climb-in-her-bedroom-at-night-lover had been a lot of fun the first time. And the second. But a romantic impulse was one thing, and not being straight about something important was another. Subterfuge wouldn’t work in his life. She couldn’t tolerate it in hers. And he’d known a showdown moment was coming. He just wasn’t prepared for it at this precise instant.

He drove the back farm road that skirted the acres of the lavender, then farther back, past his McIntosh and Red Delicious orchards, then back to the far nestle of woods.

Several acres of old, virgin hardwoods scattered across a high knoll, then gently sloped down to a spring-fed pond. The MacDougal boys and Campbell girls used to sled that hill every year when they were growing up, the girls trying every girl flirting trick they knew to get the boys to carry their sleds uphill again. The tricks usually worked.

A smile whisked across her face. Although God knows she didn’t know it-or admit it-she was getting those unshakably sexy smiles of hers back.

“Yeah,” Pete murmured, as he braked and climbed out of her car. “I remember a dozen winters from when we were kids. Just this spot. In fact, I specifically remember Daisy begging my oldest brother to pull her toboggan. He couldn’t say no to her and breathe. Heck, he couldn’t say yes to her without stuttering and turning red as a brick.”

“Daisy could make any boy stutter. And oh, brother, I loved all those winters. I was the young one, tagging after all of you older kids, but I loved every minute. Skating on the pond. Sledding that hill.” For an instant she seemed to forget how mad she was, because she ambled next to him, looping her hands in her back jeans pockets. “You haven’t mentioned your brothers in a while.”

He wanted to mention that her asking such a question was a sign that she was seriously ready to join real life again. Weeks ago, she wouldn’t have given a thought to his brothers-or anyone else. It was all she could do to get up in the morning. Unfortunately, now that she was better, she seemed unquestionably in a fast hurry to throw him out of her life. And he was bracing for that-he’d expected that point to come for weeks. But temporarily, he hoped some general conversation would ratchet down the tension between them.

“Both my brothers are doing great. Webster’s standing in front of a classroom at Stanford. He’s married, got two kids and a station wagon kind of life. I don’t think his feet have seen mud since he left the farm. Griff’s just the opposite-he’s in North Dakota. Married a woman with a big ranch in her family. He seems to love the life and the work-and the two of them seem to attract kids like mosquitoes. Last count, they had four of their own and another three that seem to be just living with them.”

In spite of feeling like an axe was about to fall on his head, Pete almost started to relax. Both of them instinctively seemed to follow the trail down to the water, Cam so easily hiking next to him. No matter how hard she was trying, it just wasn’t an easy morning to stay mad. The temperature had already kicked up in the past hour. A warm breeze fluttered the leaves, allowing sunshine to shiver through the forest canopy in yellow polka dots. A rabbit scrambled across their path. The air was soft, tender with spring smells, and the farm pond was just below them, a diamond, with a whisper of morning mist still dawdling on the far side.

In a curve in the path, they startled a doe and her young fawn, who froze at the unexpected intruders. He glanced at Camille. It hurt his heart, how easily he could share a smile with her, share the magic morning. She belonged on this land no different than he did.

He’d fooled himself into believing she belonged with him. No one to blame for that, of course, but himself.

The mama deer finally freaked and bounded off, her fawn gamboling right behind her, breaking that moment of magic silence…but at least Camille was still talking to him.

“When I was growing up, I assumed all three of you MacDougals would end up back on the farm-same as I thought my sisters and I would never grow up and move off. This was home. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else when I was little. But…you’re the only one of your brothers who actually did it, came back to the land,” she said.

“Actually, I was the only one who could come back, right at the time my dad needed help. Maybe I would have ended up back here sooner or later, anyway. I never wanted to farm the same way my dad did, but I always felt a draw to the land. I like the heritage and history. Can’t imagine working at something where I couldn’t sometimes get my hands dirty.”

“Neither of your brothers felt that way?”

“Not that they ever said. There are plenty of acres here. We could have found room for all of us. Maybe they didn’t care…but I think, more than that, most men just plain tend to settle where their women are. It seems to be one of those universals. Men wander around, unsettled and uncommitted, until they meet a certain woman. Web and Griff took up new roots from the day they got married.”

He knew the instant he used the word “marriage” that he’d royally screwed up. She stiffened up like a poker, fastened on a glower, and that was it for the peaceful conversation. “Damn it, Pete. I don’t want that damn cat!”

“No?”

“ No . I don’t want a cat. I don’t want a dog. I don’t want your kids thinking that we-”

He cut in quietly. “Yeah. I know. They were trying to matchmake.” He thought being honest would help, but she looked even more frantic. So he tried to explain further. “Sean-like you would expect-is the one who brought home the cat. He brings home anything that’s still breathing. He knew I wouldn’t let him keep it-but he and his brother started talking about giving it to you.”

“You could have easily said No. Don’t do that to Camille. ”