Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series)

by Susan Mallery

  * * *

  LATE THAT MORNING Phoebe found herself riding next to Zane. She wasn’t exactly sure how that had happened. Okay, maybe after they’d stopped for a bathroom break she might have maneuvered Rocky kind of close to Zane so that when they started out again, his was the horse Rocky followed. But she hadn’t been sure the plan would work. And now that she was bouncing along beside him, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.

  The day was still beautiful with clear skies and a slight nip in the air. She could smell the trees and caught occasional whiffs of cattle. Her butt hurt, but not enough to distract her from the pleasure of being so close to Zane. It was like being sixteen again and assigned to her crush’s study group. The afternoon practically crackled with possibilities.

  She wondered if he was thinking about their kiss. Had he relived it over and over again, as she had? Not that there was a way to ask. She might find Zane a little more approachable than she had when she’d first met him, but he wasn’t exactly an open and friendly guy. Even if he was, she doubted she would be comfortable plopping down next to him and saying, “How about that kiss? Pretty amazing, huh?”

  It had been amazing. Erotic, exciting, arousing and bone-melting. Kissing him didn’t just make her want to make love with him—although she was certainly becoming more open to the possibility—it made her want to get to know him. She wanted to find out about the man behind the handsome face. Who was Zane Nicholson and what did he dream about? What made him happy and what made him sad? Had he ever been in love or had his heart broken? Had he—

  Phoebe mentally backtracked. Maybe she didn’t want to know about women Zane had loved. She had a bad feeling that when compared with them, she would come up short. Not that she wanted him to fall in love with her. She barely knew the man. But still, there was something about him. Something that made her wonder about the potential for more.

  “You’re quiet,” Zane said.

  As she wasn’t even sure he’d known she was riding sort of next to him and a little behind, she jumped slightly. Rocky turned around to glare at her, as if reminding her that it was his back her fanny thumped on.

  She patted his neck by way of apology and considered Zane’s statement.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt if you were thinking about something important.” Like them. Like what had happened last night. Like the fact that he’d had his hands on her bare ass and his fingers between her legs. A shivery tingle twisted low in her stomach at the memory.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

  For a second Phoebe was terrified that she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. Heat flared on her cheeks, and she ducked her head.

  “You’d said you hadn’t been on a horse before. Do you like it?”

  Cool, sweet relief trickled through her. Was she enjoying herself on the cattle drive? Of course.

  She sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly. “Rocky’s being very patient with me,” she said. “Sometimes when I mess up he gives me this look that tells me I’m annoying him, but otherwise we’re getting along.”

  She glanced at Zane and saw he was staring at her with a look of incomprehension.

  “Don’t you and Tango get along?” she asked.

  “We’re best friends.”

  She thought there might be a little sarcasm in his voice, but she ignored it. “Are the cattle doing okay? Is it healthy for them to walk this much every day?”

  “Do you think they should be riding instead?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the cattle expert.”

  “They’re fine. As long as we keep the pace slow, they’ll even put on weight. They’re grazing on good quality land.” He smiled. “For them it’s a four-star restaurant.”

  Phoebe’s heart hitched a little as Zane’s mouth curved up. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and his face relaxed.

  “Do they have names?” she asked.

  To his credit, his smile only wavered a little. “Just Manny. He’s the lead steer.”

  “The one with the bell?”

  “That’s him. The steers all have a place in the herd. They go to the same spot every day. If this were about a hundred and twenty years ago and we were taking the cattle from Texas to Kansas, they’d walk that whole distance in formation. If a steer got sick, he’d drop back until he was better, then return to his original position.”

  “Has Manny always been the leader?”

  “Pretty much. I take him with me whenever I move cattle. He’s calm and doesn’t mind crossing water.”

  “We met. He seems very nice.”

  Zane tugged on his hat and muttered something like, “You’d make friends with a tree,” but Phoebe wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, so she didn’t comment.

  “Manny’s pretty tame, but watch yourself with the other steers. Remember what happened with the goats.”

  She instantly thought of the kiss they’d shared outside the baby-goat pen, then realized he probably wasn’t talking about that. Ah—she’d been bitten by a kid.

  “The steers have much bigger teeth,” she said. “Would Manny bite me?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll only talk to him.”

  “That’s probably best.”

  She glanced at him. Zane looked as if he’d just swallowed lemons.

  “Don’t you want me talking to Manny?” she asked.

  “I don’t care one way or the other.”

  “You think I’m crazy.”

  His dark blue eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Crazy’s a bit strong.”

  “I like animals. I don’t have any pets of my own, so I like to spend time with other people’s.”

  “Cattle aren’t pets.”

  “I know. Manny would probably be tough to housebreak and I sure wouldn’t want to be the one cleaning up his accidents.”

  She shifted on her saddle. They’d just broken free of the trees and were out in the open. The sky stretched out for miles, as did the grassland. Small trees provided pockets of shade.

  “It’s not like this in LA,” she breathed.

  “Is that where you’re from or did you move there after high school?”

  “Born and bred. A back-to-nature outing for me is a trip to the beach or hiking in Griffith Park.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t strike me as the city type.”

  “I don’t mind visiting, but after a few days it gets too noisy and crowded.”

  “I like being around people, but I can understand the appeal of this kind of beauty.” She inhaled deeply. “No smog and you have a satellite dish.”

  “There’s also Cookie’s biscuits.”

  Phoebe sighed. “They’re pretty amazing. If he opened his own restaurant, I bet he’d make a fortune.”

  “Cookie’s not a real people person.”

  She thought of his over-the-top flirtations with the female members of the group and his annoyance whenever anyone turned down one of his dishes.

  “Okay. Maybe he doesn’t have the service industry temperament, but I like his cooking.”

  She watched as the herd moved into the open pasture. The steers stayed in their basic formation, but spread out more and began to eat. In the distance, she saw an animal that looked far too large to be a cow.

  “Is that an elephant?” she asked.

  He gazed in the same direction and nodded. “That’s Priscilla. She lives at the Castle Ranch.”

  “They breed elephants?”

  He chuckled. “No, they rescued Priscilla. See that little dot to her right? That’s her donkey.”

  “The elephant has a pet donkey?”

  “Fool’s Gold is a strange place.”

  Strange and wonderful, she thought. What would it be like to live in a place where people would rescue an elephant, and where they treated strangers like new friends?

  “Maya mentioned you make a cattle drive every year. Are we following that same route?”

  Zane pulled his hat low over his forehead. “
No. Usually I take a few hundred head north. That trip takes about three weeks. We didn’t have that long, so we’re going in a different direction.”

  “What happens after your steers arrive? Is it like summer vacation for them?”

  “Not exactly. In early September I round ’em up and ship ’em out.”

  Phoebe winced. She didn’t want to think about where the cattle might be going. She knew it wasn’t Club Med. Her stomach flopped over, and she hoped they weren’t having burgers for lunch again.

  “Is that what your father did?” she asked. “Is it a family tradition?”

  “He sent the cattle up north, but didn’t take them himself. My grandfather did, when he was alive. And his father. There have been five generations of my family on the land.”

  She tried to imagine that and couldn’t. “The house isn’t that old, is it?”

  “The one we have now was built in the sixties. The original place was torn down.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Too many old buildings are destroyed to make way for the new. In LA, something from the thirties is considered ancient.” She looked at him. “It must be nice to have such deep roots.”

  “It’s all I know.”

  What would it be like to belong to a place? To be part of history and know that in another hundred years, the family would still be there?

  “What about your family?” he asked.

  “I don’t have any. My parents died when I was seven, and they were both only children who had lost their parents while still in their teens. If there are distant relatives, I could never find them. So it’s just me.”

  She tried not to sound wistful as she spoke. Her life was her life.

  “You said you sell real estate?”

  “I do, and I love it. There’s something very satisfying about seeing someone find the perfect home.”

  “What’s your house like?”

  “I live in an apartment.”

  “Why?”

  A simple question. Phoebe considered her answer. Money was a factor. The Los Angeles housing market wasn’t exactly for the financially challenged. While she did all right at her work, she didn’t move in the million-dollar circles that guaranteed a six-figure commission-based income.

  There was also the sense of not being deserving. Maybe it was growing up in foster care where she’d been expected to earn her way by helping with the younger children. Maybe it was just her personality. Six months of therapy three years ago had left her more confused than ever.

  “I rescue people,” she said.

  Zane raised his eyebrows. “That’s why you live in an apartment?”

  “Sort of. I find wonderful houses for other people, but not for myself. I don’t know why. Am I scared? Am I waiting for something?” Like marriage, although she didn’t want to say that to Zane. “I rescue people, sometimes dogs, but after I was bitten the last time, I steer clear of strays.”

  “What kind of people?”

  “Anyone in need. There was a homeless lady who was hit by a car. No one stopped, so I took her to the hospital myself. Sometimes I find runaways or battered women trying to escape their abusive husbands.”

  “How do you find them?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they find me. Maya says I carry around a sign that says I’m an easy target. I prefer to think I’m a good person doing the right thing. It’s just that sometimes it doesn’t go well.”

  “You mean they take money from you?”

  “Yeah, or there was the time I took on an intern, a girl who had aged out of the foster-care system. She was eighteen and had nowhere to go. She couldn’t afford college, so I was going to give her some experience and then help her find a way to pay for real estate school. One day I came home early and found her in bed with my boyfriend. Then there was the thing with my boss.”

  Zane hesitated, as if he didn’t really want to know, then asked, “What thing?”

  She told him about the problem with April. How she’d nearly ended up in jail and was now being investigated by the real estate board.

  “I’m trying to stop rescuing the world, but it’s a tough habit to break. That’s why I’m here. I needed to get away.”

  Away from all the questions and the worry that she might lose her license. She loved her job. Without it... She didn’t want to think about that.

  “Who rescues you?” Zane asked.

  Phoebe reined in her horse and stared at him. Zane stopped, as well.

  “I don’t need rescuing.”

  She couldn’t. Being needed was safe, but needing? No. She didn’t want to go there. Needing something or someone meant being vulnerable. It meant the risk of not getting. The pain of not asking was a lot easier to stand than the pain of being refused or rejected.

  “Everybody needs to be taken care of some of the time,” he said.

  “Do you?”

  “I’m the exception.”

  She wanted to say that she was, too, only she didn’t feel all that strong. Sometimes she wanted to hand all the responsibilities and worries to someone else for a while. Not completely, or forever, but just to get a break. She’d often thought that was what a good marriage would mean. Sometimes she would take on all the burdens, and sometimes her husband would. Most of the time they would share them.

  If Maya heard her say that, she would call Phoebe a Pollyanna and remind her life wasn’t that simple. Phoebe had always thought it should be.

  Zane urged his horse forward. Rocky dutifully fell into step.

  “If you’re in Los Angeles and in real estate, you must work with rock singers and movie stars.”

  Phoebe laughed. “Not exactly. I mostly specialize in starter homes. The problem is I work in an office in Beverly Hills, so finding the right place at the right price can be a challenge.”

  “You’re in Beverly Hills and you find cheap houses?”

  She winced. “Now you sound like Maya. I like working with people who really need a home. I’m not the rock-star type, although I did work with Jonny Blaze once. You know, the action star?”

  “I know who he is.”

  “Oh. Well, he’s really nice and not all that scary, like he is in the movies.”

  “Who’s in the movies?” Chase asked as he rode up.

  “Jonny Blaze. Zane and I were talking about movie stars I’ve worked with, but he’s the only one.”

  Chase’s eyes widened. “You know Jonny Blaze? That’s awesome. He kicked some serious ass in his last movie. What’s he like? Did he have a bunch of groupies hanging all over him? He came to Fool’s Gold last year for a golf tournament, but I was working that weekend.” He shot a dark look toward Zane. “Is he really short? I read that a lot of action stars are short.”

  Phoebe laughed. “He’s over six feet. I know because he patted my head and told me I reminded him of his kid sister.”

  “Jonny Blaze. You think you could get me his autograph?”

  Before Phoebe could answer, Zane cut in.

  “Is there a reason why you’re not in back of the herd where you belong?”

  His cold voice chilled the pleasure out of Chase’s face. The teenager’s eyes narrowed. “Cookie sent me to tell you he wants to stop and fix lunch.”

  Chase wheeled his horse around and rode off without waiting for a reply. Phoebe watched him go, then turned back to Zane. He met her gaze.

  “You think I’m too hard on him.”

  “I think that you have trouble walking the line between being his brother and being his father. I don’t think Chase makes it easy for you. But at least you have each other. When I was growing up, I used to wish there was someone to tell me they loved me. However much you yell at Chase, he knows in his heart that you care. That counts.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AFTER LUNCH ZANE rode west until he reached a ring of stones on the edge of a grove of trees. He checked his watch, then dismounted and sat on a fallen log to wait. Ten minutes later he heard an engine. The sound grew louder as the vehicle approache
d. Frank drove the ATV around the trees and came to a stop by the edge of the stones.

  “Hey, boss,” he said as he cut the engine. “How’s it going?”

  Zane rose. “You really want to know?”

  Frank grinned. “Probably not. You haven’t had to call in help for a medical emergency. That’s something.”

  “That it is. How are things back at the ranch?”

  “Smooth as shit, boss. Tim broke a finger, one of the goats chewed through part of the fence. We got a couple of buyers coming next week. The usual.”

  Zane walked to the trailer attached to the ATV and peeled back the cover. Three ice chests were stacked side by side. He flipped open the first one and found fresh meat, eggs and butter. A second one contained milk and canned soda, along with bottled water. The third held bags of ice. Fresh produce filled a couple of cardboard boxes and there was feed for the horses.

  “Good job,” Zane said. “I’ll lead you to camp. I sent Chase and the greenhorns ahead with the steers. You and Cookie can load up the supplies while I join everyone else.”

  “Sure thing. Cookie said he wouldn’t need another delivery for two days.”

  Zane squinted at the sky. In two days they would be completing their first loop and be fairly close to the ranch.

  “That’ll work,” he said. “I’ll phone you the night before and tell you where to meet me.”

  Except for the afternoon and evening spent by the river, they were always close enough to a cell tower to call the ranch. Zane had planned the circular route such that they would only spend two nights by the river. He figured even his citified guests could manage to stay safe in the wilderness that long.

  He mounted his horse and headed back the way he’d come. Frank followed. When they reached the wagon, Cookie jumped down and headed for the trailer.

  “You bring any strawberries?” the old man asked. “I got me a hankering for shortcake. I’ll put a bit more sugar in my biscuits and split ’em open. I told you I wanted heavy cream. Did you bring any? Seems to me you weren’t writing things down.”

  Frank snorted. “Cookie, I wrote everything twice just to make sure I didn’t forget something. It’s all here. Why don’t you go through the supplies before you start flapping your lips at me? Give a man a chance to screw up, why don’t you?”