by Marin Thomas
Gloria’s husband, Harvey, had died in Vietnam and she’d never recovered. As far as Gina knew, she hadn’t dated since.
“Tony and I tried to have kids.” Sophie gave her head a sorrowful shake. “But I kept losing them early in the second trimester.”
“My first wife couldn’t get pregnant at all,” Uncle Redd said. “The second one said that taking care of me was enough and my third had had her tubes tied. If this family is to continue, it’s up to you.”
The constant pressure to marry and have babies never stopped. “Hey, this is the twenty-first century. I’m still young and I have a career, remember? I love what I do, and I’m darn good at it. That’s why I was promoted to the assistant vice-president position last spring.”
“And we’re all real proud of you,” Uncle Redd said. Sophie and Gloria nodded enthusiastically. “But couldn’t you hold on to the ranch?”
Gina hated to disappoint her family, but they needed to understand. “Who’s going to pay the ranch crew’s salaries when the money runs out? Even if I paid them with my own funds, and I’m not going to do that, we all know that sooner or later, the ranch will need even more cash to stay afloat.”
She wasn’t about to confess that despite her large paycheck, keeping the creditors off her back kept her virtually broke. She was too humiliated. “Besides, I live more than eleven hundred miles away,” she went on. “How could I possibly run the ranch? And don’t tell me I should move back here. I have a good job in Chicago, and I like living there.”
A stony silence met her words.
“Times are tough,” Uncle Redd said. “There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to sell the Lucky A.”
Gina hoped he was wrong. “Well, then—”
A knock at the door cut her off. Relieved at the interruption and wondering who had come to pay their respects, she jumped up. “I’ll get that.”
She opened the door and found Zach.
* * *
“HEY,” ZACH SAID, wiping his feet on the mat.
“Hi.” Gina looked surprised to see him—and a little confused. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
“Your cousins invited me to dinner.”
“And you’re right on time, Zach,” Gloria called out from the kitchen. “Don’t just stand there heating up the great outdoors, Gina. Let the man in.”
Gina stepped back. Her cheeks were flushed, reminding him of how she looked after he’d kissed her a few hours ago. Not that he needed reminding. He’d thought of little else since.
“You’re just in time, Zach—the casserole will be ready in a few minutes,” Gloria said. “If you haven’t washed up, now’s the time.”
No one moved except Gina. Walking beside her toward the utility room, he smelled her perfume and the subtle scent of woman underneath. And wanted to taste her again. Just what he needed.
He stood back while she washed her hands at the big utility room sink. “You okay with me being here tonight?” he asked over the hiss of water.
“As long as you don’t try to convince me to change my mind about the Lucky A.”
He glanced at her sexy mouth. “I can’t guarantee that.”
Her eyes darkened. She quickly rinsed and dried her hands. She seemed flustered.
“Speaking of the ranch, how was the meeting with the attorney?” he asked as he lathered up.
“Thanks to you, I didn’t get any surprises. I can’t believe my family didn’t say anything. I told them that I’m going to sell.”
Zach turned off the tap and took the towel from Gina. “I’ll bet that went over big.”
“Not so much. I’m tired of thinking about what I should and shouldn’t do with the ranch. Could we please change the subject?”
If she was still thinking about it, then she hadn’t made up her mind after all. Zach smiled to himself. “Sure.”
“Did you know that Uncle Lucky left you a few things?”
“Me?” He couldn’t imagine what, but he was intrigued.
She nodded. “I’ll tell you about it after dinner.”
He could live with that.
They returned to the kitchen. Zach couldn’t help noting the sly looks on the faces of Gina’s family. What were they up to?
“Zach, you’ll sit next to Gina,” Sophie directed a little too offhandedly.
So that was the game. They wanted to push him and Gina together. Gina closed her eyes for a moment and sighed.
Zach sat down to a bubbling casserole and thick slabs of homemade bread.
When everyone had filled their plate, Gloria smiled at him. “How was your day?”
“Busy.” He told them about the broken heater in the big water tank.
“What happened there?” Sophie asked, pointing to the cut on the underside of his forearm.
“I got into a little argument with a barbed wire fence.”
“Ow.”
Zach had suffered worse. “It’ll heal.”
His plate was empty, but he was still hungry.
Gloria noticed. “Please, have more. You wouldn’t believe how many casseroles we have to eat up.”
He helped himself and dug in.
“Uncle Lucky left some of his things to Zach,” Gina said near the end of the meal.
“Oh?” Sophie looked as intrigued as Zach.
Gloria and Redd leaned forward eagerly. “What did he leave you, Zach?”
“Gina hasn’t said yet.”
“Spit it out, girl,” Redd ordered. “Before we all die of curiosity.”
“I was going to wait until after the meal, but all right.” Gina turned to Zach. “Uncle Lucky left you his horse, Lightning.”
“Ah.” Redd sat back with an approving nod. “Lucky loved that horse so. It’s fitting that he’d want you to have her.”
The horse was a beauty and as fast as her name. Zach was deeply moved. “I never expected that.”
“There’s more,” Gina said. “You also get his saddle.”
The handcrafted saddle had been one of Lucky’s prized possessions. “Are you sure?” Zach asked.
Gina nodded. “He put it in his will.”
“I remember when Lucky bought that,” Sophie said. “It was the year all of us took Gina to the state fair in Great Falls.” She smiled fondly at Gina. “You were about ten.”
“I remember that! I was with Uncle Lucky when we stopped at the saddle maker’s booth. He had a big, round belly that stretched his shirt so tight, I was sure all the buttons would pop off.”
Her family chuckled. She had them all wrapped around her baby finger. Zach could see why. With her eyes sparkling and that pretty smile on her face, she could charm a barn rat.
“As I recall, your daddy also wanted a saddle.” Redd shook his head.
Gina’s smile faded. “I remember that, too. My parents had a big fight over it. Mom wouldn’t let Dad spend the money. They didn’t speak to each other for days after that.”
Zach absorbed the information with interest. Except for Gina, the entire Arnett family seemed to have the frugal gene. But Gina earned enough to buy whatever she wanted.
The family looked solemn now, their thoughts on that day long ago.
“I’m honored to have that saddle,” Zach said. “I’ll take good care of it. Every time I use it and whenever I ride Lightning, I’ll think of Lucky.”
Redd nodded. “Now that’s real nice. I know that wherever Lucky is right now, he’s grinning like a son of a— Like a fool.”
“He left you one more thing,” Gina said. “I put it in my purse in the other room.” She went to get it.
Lucky had already given him more than enough. Zach frowned.
When Gina returned, she handed him a tissue-wrapped package. “This is for you.”
Zach had no idea what it could be.
“Is that what I think it is?” Gloria asked, her hand over her heart.
He carefully unwrapped the package. A moment later, he held up a gold pocket watch that looked well used.
Redd nodded. “That watch belonged to our grandfather and then to my daddy.”
“Then it should be yours,” Zach said.
“Lucky was the oldest son, so it went to him. I got Granddaddy’s gold cufflinks. Lucky wore that watch for special occasions. You’ll need to wind it to make it run, but it still keeps perfect time. Next to that saddle, it was his most prized possession. He was supposed to pass it to his son. You were the son he never had, Zach, and it’s good that he wanted you to have it.”
Over the years Zach had received his share of expensive presents, but no one had ever given him such a meaningful gift. He swallowed thickly. “I will cherish this watch forever.”
Gina and her cousins teared up, and Redd cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “You’re a fine young man, Zach Horton.”
He hadn’t always been. Without Lucky, he might still be lost. Dearly missing his friend, Zach curled his fingers around the watch.
“You’ll need to get yourself a chain for it, Zach,” Redd said. “Put it in your pocket for now so you don’t lose it.”
“I wouldn’t want to break it.”
“You won’t.”
Zach slipped the watch into his hip pocket. In the trailer where he lived there wasn’t a place to display it, but he intended to find one.
Gina stood to clear the table and rinse the dishes, and Zach loaded them into Lucky’s portable dishwasher.
“Who wants coffee?” Sophie asked.
“Coffee?” The expression on Gina’s face was priceless.
He couldn’t stem his laughter, and she laughed, too.
Sophie frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“I made a pot of Uncle Lucky’s coffee this morning,” Gina said. “Zach knows how terrible it was—he had a cup.”
As soon as Gloria heard that Zach had been here that morning, she smiled. Sophie looked pleased, and Redd looked like the Cheshire cat.
They weren’t exactly subtle.
“I promise you that this coffee will taste much better,” Sophie said. “I brought over a different kind and I scoured Lucky’s coffeepot from top to bottom. I don’t think the poor thing has been cleaned in a decade.”
“I never even thought of that. Okay, I’ll give it a try.”
Zach shrugged. “If you’re game, so am I.”
“I’ll get some of those chocolate-chip cookies Mrs. Yancy dropped off yesterday,” Gloria said. “They’re delicious.”
“Shouldn’t we save them in case someone stops by?” Gina asked.
“We won’t have any guests tonight. They’re all waiting for the funeral tomorrow.”
In no time, Zach and the Arnetts were enjoying cookies and decent-tasting coffee.
“You’re right—this is good,” Gina said. “I think I’ll have a second cup. Anyone else?”
Zach and the others shook their heads.
“Careful or you’ll be up till all hours,” Redd warned.
“That’s okay. I have work to do.”
“Why don’t you take the night off, cookie?” Sophie patted her hand. “You look so worn out.”
“I am pretty tired.” Gina said, massaging the space between her brows.
“You need rest so that you can be strong tomorrow.”
“You’re right. Forget that second cup of coffee. I’ll go to bed early.”
An image of Gina in bed filled Zach’s mind. He pictured her in a black satin teddy that revealed all her curves. He imagined slowly peeling the garment off her body and making her forget all about sleeping...
He caught himself and shut down his thoughts. Lucky had just died. Gina was grieving, and so was Zach. He shouldn’t be thinking about sex.
What kind of man was he, lusting over Lucky’s niece when he was supposed to be focused on convincing her to keep the ranch?
She wasn’t even his type. He steered clear of women like her. Steered clear of getting involved, period. Getting involved meant questions, and he wasn’t about to explain his past to Gina or anyone else.
They were arguments he’d repeated to himself several times today. That didn’t stop him from fantasizing about her.
“You’re frowning, Zach.” Sophie looked concerned. “I thought you liked Mrs. Yancy’s cookies.”
“They’re great.” Forcing a bland expression, he helped himself to a few more. “I was thinking about the funeral.”
Gloria let out a weighty sigh. “It’s on all our minds.”
“What time is the service?” Gina asked.
“Ten-thirty.” Redd stacked his mug on his empty dessert plate. “But we don’t know how long it’ll last—that will depend on how many people share stories about Lucky.”
Zach expected to hear a whole lot of those. Most everyone had counted the rancher as a friend.
“As soon as the service ends, there will be a reception in the church’s rec room,” Gloria said. “Then the five of us will come back here and scatter Lucky’s ashes.”
Gina gave a solemn nod.
Nothing about it sounded easy. Tomorrow was guaranteed to be a long and difficult day.
Chapter Five
On the day of the funeral, Gina woke up feeling sad and heavy. It was early and still dark outside, and she flipped on the bedside-table lamp. Before she even got out of bed, she checked her phone. There were no messages.
She speed-dialed Carrie’s cell phone. The assistant didn’t pick up. Instead of leaving a message, Gina hung up and called the main office line. “Good morning, Marsha. Will you put me through to Carrie?”
“Of course, but you’ll get her voice mail. I haven’t seen her yet this morning.”
It was almost nine in Chicago. “That’s two days in a row,” Gina muttered. On this of all days, her assistant was the last person she needed to worry about.
“I wish I knew where she was,” Marsha said, and Gina pictured the forty-something secretary giving her head a disapproving shake. “Is there something I can do to help?”
“If you’re not too busy. She was supposed to email me a report yesterday, with updates on the various campaigns for each of my clients, but I didn’t receive it. I won’t have access to email today, but if you can find the report, I’d love to know what the numbers are.”
“Let me put you on hold and see what I can find.”
While Gina waited, she opened the closet and pulled out the outfit she’d packed for the funeral. At the time, the black suit and gray blouse had seemed appropriate. But now that Zach had suggested using humor, she wished she’d brought something less somber.
On a whim, she plucked a green holly-sprig pin with red berries from the jewelry she’d tossed into her carry-on. The holiday season didn’t officially start for another week, but she didn’t think anyone would mind.
“You’ll never guess what I found in Carrie’s office—Carrie herself,” Marsha said when she returned to the phone. “She was asleep at her desk. Apparently she worked late last night and dropped off. She was pretty upset when I woke her and she realized what had happened. She’s going home to shower and change clothes, and she asked if she could call you with the numbers later.”
“Poor Carrie.” Gina felt bad for her assistant. She thought about asking one of her colleagues to step in and take some of the load off Carrie’s shoulders, but she didn’t have time to explain and review the details just now. “Just make sure she emails that report sometime today, and ask her to call me this afternoon. I should be able to talk by four Montana time at the latest.”
“I’ll be thinking of you.
There is one more thing you should know. Some of your clients called yesterday, and I’m not sure Carrie returned their calls.”
Andersen, Coats and Mueller had built their reputation on quality service and excellent results, which meant seeing to the client’s every need—which included returning calls promptly.
Growing more concerned by the minute, Gina frowned. “Would you email me the messages? Then please call and let the clients know where I am, and tell them that I’ll contact them first thing on Monday morning.”
Her stomach in knots, she disconnected. If her assistant flaked out on her, they were both in a world of trouble.
But she couldn’t worry about any of that right now. Setting her work troubles aside, she turned her focus on the day ahead.
* * *
AS FUNERALS WENT, Lucky’s wasn’t half bad, Zach mused as he piloted Redd’s station wagon and the Arnett family back to the ranch. Redd’s was the only car big enough to seat five adults. The ranch crew followed behind the wagon, a melancholy contingent of cars and trucks that would leave Zach and the family to scatter the ashes on their own. The afternoon was overcast and cold, and Zach figured they were in for another snowstorm. He hoped it held off until the family dispersed Lucky’s ashes.
It had been an emotionally draining day. Sophie and Gloria slumped on the bench seat up front, and in the back, Redd and Gina stared out their respective windows.
Zach patted Lucky’s watch, which was attached to his pants by the chain he’d found at a jewelry store in the next town. Wearing the watch somehow helped. He glanced in the rearview mirror. As if Gina felt his stare, she turned from the window and solemnly met his gaze. Her eyes were red and swollen. Tears had washed away her makeup and her lipstick had worn off long ago, but she didn’t need cosmetics to look pretty. She was what Lucky would have called a natural beauty.
“How’re you doing?” he asked softly.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m okay.”
As he drove down the highway toward the ranch, he thought about her funny yet poignant eulogy. She’d touched him and everyone else, and sniffling sounds had filled the little church.
She’d dressed for the occasion in a black pantsuit with a festive pop of color on the lapel and high, black heels that made him wish she were wearing a skirt so that he could look at her legs. His grief didn’t stop him from wanting her, and apparently he wasn’t the only one. More than one male in attendance had checked her out.