by Marin Thomas
“I just thought of something,” Gloria said as they neared the ranch. “At least three inches of snow are on the ground and the earth is frozen solid. How are we supposed to scatter Lucky’s ashes?”
Sophie’s fingers worried the straps of her purse. “Maybe we should hold on to them until the spring thaw.”
“Months from now?” Redd snorted. “By then, Gina might have sold the ranch.”
Sophie and Gloria swiveled their heads around to eye her.
With her lip firmly between her teeth, she dug in her purse for a tissue, setting off a flurry of tears and nose blowing.
Zach cleared his throat. “Lucky loved the river. We could scatter the ashes there.”
“But it’s frozen,” Gloria said.
“Not at its deepest points. We’ll find a place where it isn’t.” Zach turned up the gravel driveway, passing under the Lucky A Ranch sign that hung under an iron arch spanning the entrance. As he turned toward the house, the caravan of vehicles behind them blinked their lights and headed for their respective trailers.
“Save your good shoes and take my car over to your trailer, Zach,” Redd said as Zach pulled up close to the back door. “Get changed and we’ll see you back here shortly.”
Zach nodded and escorted Gloria and Sophie to the door.
When he returned to the house, he left the engine running, headed up the steps and knocked on the door.
They were all waiting for him. Gina had changed into jeans, winter boots and a body-hugging pullover sweater the color of whipped butter.
After everyone was in the car and buckled up, he headed slowly toward the river. “The ground is good and hard. I should be able to drive almost to the riverbank.”
The ranch hands had offered to do all the afternoon chores, giving him the rest of the day off. In the distance, cattle huddled together around fresh feed the crew had just delivered. Snow flurries swirled through the air. If they wanted to beat the harder stuff, they’d best get moving.
A scant few yards from the water, Zach pulled to a stop. The wind had kicked up and the icy air stung his face.
He took hold of Sophie and Gloria. Gina grasped Redd’s arm. She’d traded her expensive coat for a burgundy-colored down jacket and scarf and a stylish hat that protected her ears.
Standing at the riverbank, she frowned. “The entire river looks frozen to me.”
“Not out there.” Zach pointed to a dark patch of water at the widest part of the river, a few yards away.
“But that’s halfway across. It can’t be safe.”
He nodded. “Trust me, the ice is thick. It’ll hold us.”
“All five of us? Are you sure?”
“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have suggested bringing the ashes out here. I wouldn’t put you or anyone else at risk.”
Gina shot a worried glance at her cousins and Redd. “Maybe they should watch from here.”
“That seems wise,” Redd said. “It isn’t that I don’t trust your judgment, Zach. But at our ages, we can’t risk slipping and falling.”
“That’s right.” Gloria moved closer to Redd and Sophie. “We’ll say our goodbyes from here. What about you, Gina?”
“I want to do this.” Gina turned her impossibly big eyes on Zach. “You’ll come with me?”
A snowflake clung to her eyelashes. He had the urge to kiss it away, but instead he nodded and took the urn from her.
She hooked her hand through his arm, and he swore he felt her warmth through her fur-lined glove. They made their way cautiously across the ice. Less than a foot away from the sluggish water that was on the verge of freezing, he pulled her to a stop. “We’d best not go any closer.”
Gina nodded and, with her teeth, tugged off her gloves. She shoved them into her pockets and took the urn from Zach. She opened it and held it up. “Goodbye, Uncle Lucky. Be at peace,” she said over the wind.
Beautiful words that would’ve meant more if she was keeping the ranch. Zach silently pledged to continue trying to convince her.
From the riverbank, Gloria and Sophie called out their own final messages, and Redd added, “God speed.”
“Goodbye, friend,” Zach murmured, his chest tight with feeling.
He and Gina shared a long look filled with mutual loss and grief. Then with a thrust of her arms, she sent Lucky’s ashes flying. They mingled briefly with the snow before dropping quietly into the water.
Silent and solemn, she handed the empty urn to Zach. Her hands were red, and she tugged on her gloves with clumsy fingers. He knew how cold they were. His own face was numb, and he regretted leaving his woolen ski mask at the trailer.
Gina hooked her arm through his again and they made their way toward the bank. Snow was coming down hard now, and the sky had grown steadily darker. Zach guessed it was after four. Gloria, Sophie and Redd headed for the car and piled into the backseat.
“At least one of you should ride in the front with Zach and me,” she said as Zach opened the passenger door.
“We don’t mind sitting back here together.” Redd winked.
It was clear that they wanted Zach and Gina to get together.
Now, there was a match doomed before it even started.
Regardless, today they’d shared something neither of them would ever forget.
As soon as the engine purred to life, Zach turned the heat on full blast.
“That feels good.” Gina held her hands in front of the vent.
She practically hugged the door. Even so, Zach was as keenly attuned to her presence as if she was sitting close.
She pulled off her hat and he caught a whiff of her flowery perfume. His body stirred. This was getting old.
“I don’t feel the heat yet.” Gloria stomped her feet and rubbed her hands together. “It’s beastly cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if we all had frostbite.”
“The way we’re all bundled up?” Sophie harrumphed. “You’re so melodramatic, Glo. You should’ve gone into acting.”
At the house, Gina exited while Zach helped her cousins.
The empty evening stretched before him, as gray as the sky. He wanted to join the family, but he’d been with them all day and didn’t want to intrude any further. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his parka.
“Leave us to what?” Sophie’s lips quirked.
He shrugged. “You probably want time alone, with just the family.”
“Nonsense,” Redd said. “You’re as much a part of the family as the rest of us. But I happen to have an ulterior motive—I was hoping you could whip up some hot toddies to help us get warm. I’m still thinking about the ones you made last year during that stretch of subzero weather. Best I ever tasted.”
Gloria grasped Zach’s arm. “You heard the man. Please stay.”
“All right.” Zach held the door for everyone.
Inside, Gina studied him with a thoughtful expression. “Hot toddies aren’t exactly the kind of thing people our age drink,” she said. “Where did you learn to make them?”
“In a different life.” An easy life of wealth and luxury Zach had once taken for granted. Life at the Lucky A was harder and leaner, but in the three years since he’d sold his company and taken a job here, he didn’t miss much of what he’d given up. He was certainly happier.
“Did you own a bar or something?” Gina asked while her cousins dug out the ingredients for the drink.
“In a manner of speaking.” He hung up his coat. “When you were fourteen, Lucky taught you to drive. When I was that age, my father taught me to mix drinks. He thought that if I played bartender during the parties he liked to throw, I’d be too busy to get into trouble.”
“Did it work?”
“Let’s just say, I learned to sneak my drinks when no
one was looking. It was a great gig—until I got caught.”
Sophie tsked, Gloria covered a smile with her hand and Redd grinned and said, “I’ll bet your daddy whupped you good.”
Looking amused, Gina arched her eyebrows. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and for the first time all day, her eyes were bright and filled with humor.
“I got a stern lecture, which was probably worse than any spanking,” Zach replied with a deadpan expression.
As he’d hoped, they all laughed. He joined in. After the weighty day, laughing felt good.
As soon as Gina hung up her coat and tugged off her boots, she moved toward the stairs. “I’m going to make a few calls. I’ll be down in a little while.”
Zach shook his head. She couldn’t even take the full day off for her uncle’s funeral—a needed reminder that he wasn’t interested.
* * *
“DAMN YOU, CARRIE,” Gina muttered as she sat on the bed and checked her phone messages.
Out of respect for her family and the funeral, she’d left her phone in her room today. At some point this afternoon, Carrie had called with an update and numbers. Unfortunately, she’d repeated the same information she’d already shared. And she didn’t mention the client calls she’d failed to return.
She was exhausted, but Gina also suspected that despite Carrie’s assurances that she could handle the temporary responsibilities she was saddled with, she wasn’t ready.
Gina thought about telling Kevin, but she wasn’t ready just yet. She definitely needed to ask one of her colleagues for help. As busy as they all were, they wouldn’t appreciate having to take on more work. Carrie wouldn’t like it, either, but she obviously couldn’t handle the workload by herself.
Marsha had also called with the names and numbers from the past two days’ calls and let Gina know she’d contacted them.
Outside, darkness had fallen. Gina checked her watch. The funeral, reception and spreading the ashes had taken longer than she’d imagined. In Chicago it was after five and the Friday before Thanksgiving to boot. The office was already gearing down for the holiday and upcoming short workweek, and Gina doubted that anyone would be there now. All the same, she left a message for Carrie.
She also tried Carrie’s cell, but her assistant didn’t pick up. Well, she had that dinner date tonight. Gina left a message that ended with, “First thing Monday morning, you and I need to talk. Expect my call at nine a.m. Chicago time.”
Having done all that she could for now, she stood. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Somehow, her makeup had disappeared, and she looked all washed out. If only she’d realized sooner. Wanting to look better for her family, and yes, for Zach, she freshened up her makeup and ran a comb through her hair. There.
She looked better, but between the funeral and worrying about Carrie, she felt as if she’d been through the wringer.
Needing the comfort of her family and Zach, she headed downstairs to rejoin them.
Chapter Six
A roaring fire crackled in the fireplace, as if this were a normal November evening at the Lucky A. It wasn’t. Uncle Lucky had been a huge presence in Gina’s life, and his passing left a big hole in her heart. That he wasn’t here to tease her and make her laugh put a definite damper on things, but Zach and her family were good company.
Having consumed one of his delicious hot toddies before dinner and two glasses of wine with the meal, she was finally relaxed. Zach and Uncle Redd had brought up a set of old TV trays from the basement and they’d eaten in front of the fire, polishing off a whole casserole, most of a chocolate cake and two bottles of wine—with numerous toasts to Uncle Lucky.
Uncle Redd set down his cake plate and patted his belly. “That was real tasty,” he said, stretching and yawning. “It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to go home.” He gestured at Sophie and Gloria. “Get your coats, girls.”
Too full and comfortable to move just yet, Gina scrutinized her uncle from her chair. “It’s stopped snowing, but there are at least a few more inches on the ground. The roads are sure to be slippery, and you’ve had quite a bit to drink. Plus it’s dark. Why don’t you stay here? There’s room for all of you.”
Uncle Redd shook his head. “We’ll do that at Christmas. I can’t leave the dogs alone overnight. I’m not driving more than a few miles and I could do it blindfolded, so the dark isn’t a problem. Besides, I only had the one hot toddy and half a glass of wine, and you saw how much food I put away tonight. I’m as sober as I was when I got up this morning.”
He shot a wry look at Sophie and Gloria, who’d helped Gina and Zach drink the wine. “I can’t speak for your cousins, though.”
The women glanced at each other and giggled. Slightly drunk herself, Gina smiled.
In no time, everyone was in the kitchen, Gina and Zach helping the older ones into their coats.
After all they’d been through today, Gina felt very close to her family. She hated to see them go and dreaded spending the night alone in the house. But she wasn’t going to admit it.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked after she hugged and kissed each of them.
Gloria shook her head. “Probably not, honey. Saturday is the day Sophie and I do our house cleaning. Besides, you’ll be sorting through Lucky’s papers and things, and we’d probably just get in the way. Why don’t you come to our house Sunday night for dinner? We’ll plan our Thanksgiving meal.” She smiled at Zach. “It goes without saying that you’re invited again this year—both for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“I appreciate that,” Zach said. “Count me in.”
Without Uncle Lucky, both holiday celebrations were bound to feel dreary. Gina half wished she could come back at Christmas.
Redd opened the door to leave. “Don’t stay up late, you two.” Winking, he closed it behind them.
“They couldn’t be more obvious about pushing us together.” Gina shook her head in disbelief. “I love them all dearly, but sometimes—make that a lot of the time—they drive me crazy.”
“They aren’t so bad.”
“That’s because they’re on their best behavior when you’re around. You should hear them nag and question me about when I’m going to get married. They’re worried that if I don’t get married and have kids soon, the Arnett family line will die out.”
“What do you tell them?”
“That I’m barely thirty and I have plenty of time. I’m not even dating right now.”
“Too busy working?”
“That, and I’m also picky.”
“Let me guess, you’re looking for a CEO to come along and sweep you off your feet.”
She laughed. “He doesn’t have to be a CEO as long as he’s ambitious. My family doesn’t understand at all.”
Zach was silent and his expression was unreadable. Gina wished she knew what he was thinking. “Men don’t have the same kind of pressure as women,” she added.
“Sure we do, but in different ways. You have a choice of whether or not to make your name in the world. We don’t have that choice.”
“Your family puts that kind of pressure on you?”
“Every man’s does.”
“And you’re rebelling.”
For a moment he looked puzzled. Then his eyes narrowed a fraction. “You mean because I’m a ranch foreman. You’re a white-collar snob.” He snorted and headed back to the living room.
She was offended. “I am not! I just... You’re really smart, Zach. What you said about Uncle Lucky at the funeral today was eloquent and moving. You have all this potential, and...” By his grim expression, she saw that she’d only made things worse, and she let the words trail off.
“You’re wondering why I don’t do what you do? Put in eighty-hour workweeks chasing after the next deal? That’s an empty life I don’t
choose to live.”
None too gently, he began to stack the dessert plates.
She’d really hit a sore spot. “You’re going to break something, Zach.”
He set down the dishes and slapped the folding TV tables shut. “I’ll take these back to the basement.”
“I can do that later.”
Tight-lipped, he hefted the five folded tables and strode toward the kitchen.
Those tables were heavy, yet he toted them as if they weighed nothing. Gina followed him, jogging to keep up. In the kitchen, she shot around him to open the basement door and flip on the lights down there.
His footsteps thudded down the wooden steps, each one sounding like a scold. Feeling terrible for insulting him, she chafed her arms.
Uncle Lucky’s portable dishwasher was still hooked up to the kitchen faucet from after dinner. The cycle was finished, and she unhooked and wheeled it to its place against the wall.
She was about to put the clean dishes away when she heard Zach come up the stairs.
Her heart pounded. Twisting her hands at her waist, she met him at the top of the steps. He looked surprised. “What’s wrong?”
“I just— Don’t be angry, Zach.”
“Damn straight, I’m mad. I don’t like being judged, especially when you know nothing about me.”
She was wearing flat ankle boots tonight, which gave him a height advantage of at least four inches. Looming over her with a dark expression, he was intimidating, but she met his gaze. “Not for lack of asking. You won’t tell me anything.”
“My past is my business. It’s over and done with, and I don’t talk about it.” He crossed his arms as if daring her to say one more word about the subject.
Frustrated, she offered something of an apology. “I won’t bring up your past again, all right? But don’t blame me for making assumptions. They’re all I have to go on.”