Free Lady Lavender by Lynna Banning Page A

rolled over once again and laid his forearm over his eyes.

Chapter Nine
    I n the morning Jeanne dressed hurriedly and went to feed the chickens and her mare. She had to step over the man sleeping across her doorway; his breathing did not change so she knew she had not awakened him. She fed the mare some oats and flung handfuls of grain onto the ground for the chickens, then turned back toward the cabin.
    Sunlight flashed off something metallic on the hill side and she caught her breath. At the head of the valley, five horsemen studied her lavender field. Dumbfounded, she stared at them.
    One man gestured toward the ripening bushes and then pointed to her cabin.
    Her neck hair began to itch. What did they want? One of the men untied a canvas-wrapped bundle from behind his saddle and dropped it onto the ground. Theclank of metal brought her wide-awake. Tools. It was the railroad clearing crew Wash had mentioned.
    They had come to clear her field!
    Her home!
    She whirled toward the cabin, raced up the porch steps making no effort to be quiet. Wash’s inert body, still extended across her doorway, did not even twitch. Jeanne drew back her foot and buried the toe of her boot where she judged his midsection would be.
    â€œYou lied to me!” she screamed. “You promised I would have time to harvest—” She broke off to aim another blow.
    A hand snaked out and caught her boot. “Good morning,” a calm, sleep-fuzzy voice said. “Was there something you wanted?”
    â€œOui,” she shouted. “ Cochon! I want you to suffer for what you did. I want—”
    Wash sat up, still holding her foot. “Believe me, Jeanne, I am suffering.”
    â€œYou mock me. I am so angry I could…” He released her foot and she drew it back to kick him again. Oh, she could not hurt him enough!
    He raised both arms to protect his face. “For heaven’s sake, what did I do?”
    She faced him, planting her hands on her hips. “You know what you did. You lied to me. All men lie, but you—you are the worst! You promised!”
    He struggled to his feet and they faced off. “What? What did I promise?”
    â€œYou promised I would have time to cut my lavenderbefore…before…” She could not bring herself to say it. “And now, this morning, they are here.”
    She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. She would not let him see her cry.
    He took a step toward her. “Who is here?” He spoke with his jaw clenched, and she realized he was very, very angry. Even in his bare feet he towered over her. She straightened to her full height and lifted her chin.
    â€œFive men from your railroad,” she snapped. “They are here. Your clearing crew. And they have with them shovels and things to destroy my lavender. Mon Dieu, how could you lie to me about this?”
    â€œHell, I didn’t lie to you.”
    â€œWhat do you call it, then? Those men are ready to cut—”
    â€œThey’re here early, but I’ll talk to them,” he said, stuffing his feet into his boots. “Where are they now?”
    Jeanne pointed beyond the chicken coop. “Up there, on the side of the hill.”
    Wash stalked off. He tried to reason with them, but the men said they were on Sykes’s schedule, not his, and there was nothing he could do about it. When he returned she was still shaking with fury. “ Et alors? Have those men not come to destroy my crop?”
    He stepped up onto the porch and confronted her. “They won’t cut your lavender today. They came to…uh…clear the buildings first.”
    â€œYou mean my chicken house?” Her throat was so tight her voice cracked. “My cabin?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œToday? You mean now?”
    â€œYes, today. Look, Jeanne, I’m as surprised as you are.”
    She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. “You are not surprised,” she accused.