Noah placed his mug in the sink. “Dare I ask what you want to do with your mint harvest?”
Maggie turned to him. “Olivia and I are having a go at making our own essential oils. She has several herbs that could work. We’ll start with the orange mint.”
“It’ll have to dry first,” Phoebe said. “We won’t actually be making essential oils today.”
“You’re off today?” Noah asked her.
“Just this morning. I have an evening meeting.”
She let the screen door shut behind her. Noah took that as a sign that she intended to stay for the mint-harvesting.
“Phoebe hasn’t taken any vacation time this year,” Maggie said. “Right, Phoebe?”
“I took time off in the spring to paint the porch.”
“I rest my case,” Maggie said, digging a pair of utility scissors out of an island drawer. “If you want to help, Noah, that’d be great, but I suggest putting on a shirt. It’ll be buggy in the mint patch.”
He smiled. “If you’re warning me about insects, it means I should expect the worst.”
Maggie laughed and grabbed her empty basket. “You’re a riot, Noah,” she said, heading for the mudroom and out the back door.
Phoebe had her hair in a long, loose ponytail. She redid a clip that held stray curls off her face. Noah reached for a black shirt he’d brought downstairs with him. As he shrugged it on, he was aware of Phoebe watching him. He appreciated her reaction.
He fastened a few buttons. “Did you sleep well last night?” he asked her softly.
Buster stirred, and she patted him. “I read Mary Stewart until the wee hours. You?”
“I was up late looking for things to do. Wood to chop, wild animals to slay. I did manage to chase Buster off the couch.”
She laughed, visibly more relaxed. “Olivia will appreciate that. Dylan won’t care. Sorry we disturbed you. You don’t have to help with the mint—”
“I don’t mind.”
Noah had a feeling he’d be learning more about essential oils and soap-making than he ever thought of knowing before the morning was done.
Phoebe followed her sister outside, and he put on shoes, grabbed the bug spray and Buster and joined them. The orange mint was at the end of the garden, almost at the shed where he’d first spotted Phoebe and hadn’t even considered she might be his princess. He watched her squat down with a pair of clippers, snipping off the tops of the orange mint. He noticed the shape of her slim, bare legs.
It was definitely turning into a different morning than he’d planned. He was glad he hadn’t called for a plane, after all.
He helped harvest the mint and bring it into a small room that shared the center chimney. Apparently Maggie and Olivia had conferred and decided the mint would dry there.
“What’s it do for you?” Noah asked as they spread the mint on a table, a flea-market find that Olivia had teased about putting on his painting list.
“Orange mint is supposed to be uplifting,” Maggie said, then grinned at him. “Aren’t you uplifted?”
“It’ll be highly concentrated as an essential oil,” Phoebe said. “It’s supposed to blend well with other essential oils.”
“You never use essential oils directly on the skin,” Maggie added. “They’re always diluted somehow.”
Making an essential oil was a relatively complicated process that also involved a still, which Maggie said she had on order. Noah found the details surprisingly interesting. As they returned to the garden, she explained saponification, the chemical process that transformed a fat and alkali into soap and glycerin.
“We use only fresh goat’s milk, not powdered,” Maggie said. “Soap making involves a range of my interests. Cooking, gardening, aromatherapy—and my mother’s goats, I guess. They’ve grown on me, finally. Each batch of our soap is handmade. I like that. We leave in the glycerin. A lot of commercial soap makers remove it because they can sell it.”
“It’s an ingredient in nitroglycerin,” Noah said.
She wasn’t that amused. “Glycerin is a natural humectant. Goat’s milk is very mild. A lot of people with sensitive skin swear by it because it has a pH level that’s close to that of our skin.”
“So that explains my baby-soft skin,” Brandon Sloan said, climbing over a stone wall into the garden. “I’ve been using the soap in Olivia’s upstairs shower.”
Maggie wasn’t that amused by her husband, either, but Noah could see Phoebe holding back a smile. He kept his mouth shut.
“Where are the boys?” Brandon asked.
“With a couple of their friends. I’m picking them up for lunch.” Maggie stepped onto the terrace, her enthusiasm for talking about mint harvesting and soap making on the wane.
Maggie immediately headed back into the kitchen.