A Taste of Sauvignon by Heather Heyford Read Free Book Online Page A

briefs. She sucked in a steadying breath. Indulging in frivolous pleasures wasn’t the way to reach your goals.
    â€œGo back. Tell me about lavender.”
    â€œS’got a ton of potential,” he replied easily, while they ate. “Ornamental, for starters. I could sell plants to nurseries or go the direct route, straight to the consumer. Then there’s culinary. Everyone’s heard of lavender in sweet things like cookies. It makes a great syrup for fruit, with sugar. And it’s good in drinks. Now it’s being used in place of rosemary and thyme in foods that aren’t sweet, too. The most valuable thing, though, is the oil. It’s used for perfumes, bug repellent, natural medicine—you name it. But it has to be extracted, and that means investing in equipment . . . learning how to use it.”
    â€œCan you make a profit?”
    He dabbed his mouth with his napkin, refolded it, and laid it back on his lap while she tried not to stare at those hands.
    â€œIt’s kind of a rogue industry. It’s hard to find good information, especially about wholesale pricing. Technically, there is no established lavender industry in the U.S. I’ve looked at retail prices in catalogs and on websites, and the numbers are all over the place, depending on the quality.” He chuckled. “Everyone says theirs is the best, but who knows, when there’s no regulation? No standards?”
    â€œThere have to be regulations,” she said.
    He shrugged. “Look it up. If you can find a law about growing lavender somewhere, I’d like to see it.”
    â€œI would be very surprised, but anyway—what do you have against grapes?”
    â€œNot a thing, except I only have five acres. Maybe if I had more ground and all the time in the world before I needed to make a profit. Grapes have a long lead time, though. They need a big investment before you see positive returns, let alone payback. Then there’s the processing. Who’s going to make the wine?”
    â€œYou could just sell the grapes to a processor.”
    â€œLook.” He swigged his beer. “I get what this investment company wants to do. Five more acres tacked on to hundreds already planted in grapes makes perfect sense for them. Not for the little guy like me, though. Besides, there’s something about seeing a thing through from start to finish. Like Madre’s pepper jelly. I like knowing something went from seed to finished product all on our farm, crafted by our hands.”
    â€œThis lavender scheme—sounds like it’s still a pipe dream.” She had to be sure.
    He made a face. “I’ve been experimenting for three years. I’m still looking for the variety that will thrive in our terreno.”
    She shot the last swallow of wine in her glass. All that was left on their small plates now were the garnishes.
    â€œOne-point-six million,” said Savvy. “And I need to know by tomorrow.”

Chapter 8
    â€œT he new offer is six percent over market value,” Esteban told his father. They’d just completed their first joint task of the day, partially covering the seed potatoes with soil. Once the plants began to grow, they would continue to fill the trenches as needed until, finally, dirt was mounded up around each vine. Esteban squinted down into the trench. “ Mierda . I wish this soil wasn’t so heavy.” Then he looked skyward. “That, or we’d get a long spell of dry weather.”
    â€œA good farmer works with the weather the Lord gives him,” said Padre. “The spuds did fine when we planted them in this spot three years ago.” Potatoes were one of those crops that had to be rotated each year so the nutrients didn’t leach out of the soil. “The water will be good for them when the tubers are forming.”
    â€œNot when they’re trying to cure,” countered Esteban.
    â€œThey can cure in the field.”