by Roth, Ann
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.
“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.”
Glo
ria 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.