The Herb Gatherer's Disciple, Barry Rachin [best books to read non fiction .TXT] 📗

sweet-brier, balm, sage and borage. There was mint, wormwood and wild thyme that, when accidentally trod upon, made its fragrant presence known. Ruth considered the question. The fictional Elmira Todd was long dead, just like the author who imagined her. But a few of her progeny were sure to be wandering the back woods of Maine in search of the rare lobelia and elecampane for soothing syrups and elixirs. "You're sure to rub shoulders with one or another of her great grandchildren."

"I don't need much to be happy… just calm and quiet, that's all." A dogged wistfulness overspread the black eyes; a gritty obstinacy played out about the supple corners of the stunted girl's lips. "I'll send a postcard once I'm settled."

"Yes, I'd appreciate that."

Laurel Evers had been gone from the bleachers a good five minutes before Dr. Savage noticed the wetness on her wrists and raised her glistening eyes to a perfectly sunny, spring day. Back on the field the sprinter was rearranging his limbs in the starting block. The weight of his body resting on arched fingertips, the arms hung almost vertical, buttocks angled a good six inches above the nape of the neck. It was a sublime balancing act.

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Publication Date: 05-03-2011

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