Page 138 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Forty-Four

Liv

As spring hits, thelavender bursts to life after its winter slumber. Steady rain over the last month has produced paddocks of vibrant green. Every chance I get, I admire the brand new white and purple metal sign that stands proudly at the end of the driveway. The letters ofLogan Lavenderare big enough to catch the eye of motorists on the highway and will hopefully get the attention of locals. Just in time for Aunt Jean and Jayson’s visit.

Our Flow Hive is buzzing with activity with a new colony, and a load of fertiliser will be arriving shortly, together with distilling equipment for making oils. I’ve been learning about hydrosol, a by-product of the distilling process which can be used for cleaning, aromatherapy or as an air freshener; another product to put on our shelves when the time is right. I also researched making soap but stopped myself. As excited as I am to expand on the business plan, we can’t take on too much. We need to take it one step at a time. Focus on the crop. I’ll reach out to Sally, Gracey’s mum, and see if we can wholesale dried flowers or oils for use in her products.

I take a sandwich to Jerry in the drying shed. Thanks to the long hours he’s put in, a bit of elbow grease, and new lighting, the space looks incredible. The wooden flooring has been patched up where the wood had rotted, and Jerry has installed walls near the entrance to create a space big enough for a small shopfront.

He’s applying lacquer to the old wooden dining table he sanded back yesterday. It’ll look great in the shop. I can already picture wicker baskets filled with lavender and product samples atop it.

“The timber looks incredible,” I say.

He pulls a rag from his back pocket and wipes his hands. “I’m skilled with my hands. What can I say?” He winks, sending a flood of heat to my lower belly.

I press a loud kiss to his lips. “Don’t I know it.”

He scoops up a sandwich triangle from the plate and devours half of it in one bite. He moans as he chews, winking once more. “So hungry I could eat a horse and chase the jockey.”

I laugh as he takes another bite. “I can make you another if this doesn’t touch the sides.”

“You’re the best.”

Pirate barks and jumps at the door, determined to inspect the source of the noise outside.

“I thought we weren’t expecting your aunt until later?”

“No, she’s a couple of hours away. It’s probably a delivery.” Pirate’s bark echoes through the shed, ringing in my ears.

Jerry tilts his head. “What kind of delivery?”

I know we must be mindful of what we spend, but Jerry has to get over himself. I will spend my money on things for the farm. He’s a proud man, but he needs to learn to swallow his pride from time to time.

I pat Jerry on the shoulder and hand him the plate. “Finish this while I sort it out.”

I greet the driver and direct him to unload beside the shed where Jerry must’ve whipper-snipped the weeds earlier today. With the rain, they’ve grown like, well, weeds. I giggle to myself as this runs through my head. The driver must think I’m on something from the strange looks he gives me.

The shed door opens a few minutes later, Jerry with an empty plate in hand. His head swings from the truck to me to the driver operating a forklift, moving a pallet with a mountain of clear plastic wrap securing everything. The driver unloads another pallet and returns the forklift to the back of the giant truck.

It’s hard to contain my excitement. If my family weren’t coming to visit shortly, I’d be spending the afternoon unwrapping the new distilling equipment.

“Jesus, Liv.” Jerry removes his hat and scratches his head, dark hair flopping in his eyes before he rakes it back. “How much shit did you order?”

I hook my hands on my hips. “I ordered what we need. Fertiliser and a new still.”

He grumbles under his breath and shakes his head.Yeah, he’s not happy.

I sign the consignment form, thank the driver, and wave him off.

“That’s my job,” Jerry barks, scratching at his head again before shoving his hat on. “Iprovide for us.”

An ache centres between my eyes. I’ve told him if we’re doing this, we’re going to be a team. And that means we both contribute.

“Oh, that’syourjob, huh? How very nineteenth century of you.”

He holds up his hands in frustration. “What kind of man am I if I can’t provide for a family? If I have to watch every cent?”

“It’s money that must be spent to get this place out of the red and into the black. I don’t regret spending a cent of it.”

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