by Carol Grace
Zeb and Sam exchanged a look that contained pity for her naivete.
“Okay, what do I need besides a gas-driven pump?”
“Water tank to hold the water you pump out of your stream. Plastic pipe to carry the water from the stream to the tank. Plastic bottles.”
“Oh, but I thought I'd have glass with my Paradise Springs logo on them.”
“Too expensive and easy to break. You want plastic gallon jugs. And a filter.”
“Why do I need a filter? Isn't the water pure?”
“It may be pure, but there's bound to be sediment in it,” Sam said. “Nobody will buy your water if there's a bunch of crud at the bottom of the jug.”
“Or little things swimming in it,” Zeb said.
“Little things? What kind of little things, fish?”
“Amoebas, stuff like that.”
“I should have it tested first,” she said.
“Good thinking,” Zeb said, reaching over to take the bottle out of her hands. “We'll take it in for you and have it tested at the county. Wouldn't want to buy a whole lot of equipment if the water's no good.”
“Oh, but it's got to be good. Great-Grandpa drank it and hundreds of visitors to Paradise Springs drank it and I drink it.” She lifted her tin cup and took a large gulp just to prove it to them. “If you'll tell me where it is, I'll take the water in myself. You've already done more than enough for me. I can't ask you to do any more.”
“Sure you can,” Zeb said. “We're going that way anyway, so it's no trouble.”
“Then I'll go with you.”
Zeb and Sam exchanged glances. Her heart fell. They didn't want her along. They were going somewhere else along the way. Somewhere that she couldn't come.
“Never mind, I'll go by myself,” she said.
“No. We'll all go together,” Zeb said.
“Are you sure?” she asked. She didn't want them to think she didn't appreciate what they were doing for her. But she didn't want to be left out of the loop. It was her land, and her mineral springs and she was going to be a part of this business every step of the way.
After considerable discussion between the brothers, which seemed to go on for another half hour, it turned out Thursday was the best day for a trip to the county building in nearby McClure. They were back before that though, the next afternoon, tramping up and down, following the stream, trying to pick a spot for the tank, another for the pump.
“The tank should be downstream to take advantage of gravity,” Sam said, resting his shovel on his shoulder.
“Uh-uh. The obvious place for the tank is up there. As long as she's got a pump she doesn't need to rely on gravity, so that's the way to go.” Zeb pointed to a flat clearing on the top of a slope. “It's a perfect place to fill the bottles and load them into her truck.”
“She doesn't have a truck,” Sam protested.
“I could...” she said.
“She can borrow ours to start with, but eventually she'll have to get one,” Zeb said.
“I couldn't...” she said.
Zeb interrupted. “Eventually she'll need a conveyor belt and an assembly line, someone to fill, someone to cap, someone to...”
“Wait a second,” she said. “Can I say something? I don't want a big operation here. Or a big staff to supervise. You know, that's what happened to me in nursing. I was booted up to administration and then I didn't get to do any patient care any more. Here I have a chance to start small and stay small. Isn't that what you said the banker wanted?”
“Right,” Zeb said. “Sorry. I got carried away. I can't help myself. Your project is exciting. Has potential.”
“I'm surprised my great-grandfather didn't think of it.”
“Yeah, well he had his hands full just holding things together.” He stood his shovel against a tree. “We'll see you Thursday,” he said. Then they took off down the trail.
Chloe watched them go, knowing she was the one who'd put an end to her relationship with Zeb, if that's what you could call it. It was her idea to be friends with him. She just hadn't expected him to agree so fast To come every day and do some work and then leave. She was grateful for his help, even more grateful for his restraint, because heaven knew she didn't have any. So why was she standing there, feeling let down and left out? Missing his searing kisses, his strong arms around her, his eyes burning hot with desire. Wishing he'd at least kissed her goodbye. Or said something—anything—to make her think he cared.
* * *
On Thursday Zeb and Sam picked Chloe up, and soon she was wedged between the two brothers in the front seat of their truck, while her box of samples rattled against each other in the back. Zeb soon realized that putting Chloe between himself and Sam was not a good idea. Because at every curve in the road, she was pitched against him, her thigh meshed with his, her shoulder pressed against his, causing an instant reaction of hot, undeniable desire.
He'd been so proud of his abstinence, of his ability to walk away from her every day. Taking her at her word that she only wanted to be friends had been difficult, though not impossible. But not today. Today it seemed difficult and impossible. All he could think about was getting her alone, finding a meadow, a hill, in the sun or under the moon, and making mad, passionate love to her all over again.
But it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to him. Neither one of them needed another rejection in their lives. Another breakup. Both of which were inevitable.
“I appreciate you guys not pressuring me to sell you the springs anymore,” she said, tightening her seat belt
“That's not our way,” Zeb said. “After all, you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
He noticed that she gave him a puzzled look out of the corner of her eye. Probably wondering what he was talking about Why did he have to mention honey? It just made him remember that morning when she'd licked the honey off his lips. He shifted in the driver's seat, trying to get his mind off that incident at his ranch and back to the task at hand.
“I'm glad you finally realize that selling out is the last thing I'd ever do,” she continued. “Even if nothing comes of the spring water idea, I'll still have my spa. Some day. Somehow.”
Somewhere, he added fervently but silently. Somewhere else, anywhere but Paradise Springs.
“Did you ever buy that bull you were looking for?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Zeb said through clenched teeth, knowing only too well that it was her stubborn refusal to sell the land that prevented them from buying the bull.
“We're using studs from other ranches,” Sam explained. “It's expensive but not as expensive as buying a bull. See, we had a run of bad luck last year, an anthrax epidemic killed part of our herd along with our bull, and then there was the flood.”
Zeb shot Sam a murderous look. The word flood should not be mentioned in Chloe's presence. It might lead to talk of a dam. Fortunately, Sam got the message and didn't say anything else. But Chloe did.
“What flood was that?” she asked. “Did it affect my property?”
“Not really,” Zeb said briskly. “But we lost a whole crop. Had to buy feed for our cattle.”
“Set us back a few grand,” Sam added.
“I know you went to the bank for money,” she said, staring at the long road ahead, “and I know why you need the money. I also know you got turned down. So I don't see how you're going to get out of the hole. Enough to buy a bull. Let alone make me an offer on my property. Two things I don't understand. Why you want it and how you were going to pay for it.”
“I thought you didn't want to talk about selling us your property. If you do...” Zeb said.
“No, no, I'd rather not I just wondered, that's all.”
Zeb heaved a silent sigh of relief and changed the subject to discuss the virtues of shorthorn cattie versus Hereford with his brother. They went on to the type of feed that was best for each. Chloe yawned, leaned back against the vinyl seat and closed her eyes. Her head
drifted toward Zeb's shoulder and settled there so comfortably that he instantly lost his train of thought.
Her hair brushed his collar, her scent threatened to overwhelm him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly so he wouldn't be tempted to put his arm around her. For one thing, Sam would be shocked and for another, they were just friends. Just friends. Yeah, right.
Sam brought up the subject of what was more important in a stud, looks or family history. As usual, they debated this loudly.
“Short legs, a stumpy neck and a bulky body is worth all the pedigrees in the world,” Sam said.
“That's where you're wrong. Looks come and go. But breeding, breeding will always tell. Cream rises to the top,” Zeb said.
“What about character?” Chloe said, blinking and sitting up straight
Sam and Zeb stopped talking and looked at her.
“What does that mean?” Zeb asked warily.
“Character? Honesty, integrity and principle.”
“How do you judge character?” Zeb asked with a puzzled frown.
“I used to think you could use your instincts,” she said, staring out the window at the distant mountains. “But that doesn't always work. So now I don't know. Personally, I've lost my confidence in instinct That's why I'm never getting married again.”
“What are you talking about?” Zeb asked her.
“What are you talking about?” she returned, looking from one to the other.
“Bulls. They don't have any character, not so's you'd notice. They're all the same. They're bullies,” Sam said.
“Oh. I thought...never mind,” Chloe said, closing her eyes and resting her head lightly on the rear truck window.
“Character,” Zeb muttered. “Yeah, we'll have to look for a bull with character.”
After another half hour during which Chloe either slept or pretended to sleep so she wouldn't make a fool of herself again, they arrived in McClure, the county seat with its town square, courthouse and fairgrounds. While Sam went to look up a friend, Chloe and Zeb left the water samples off at a small lab in the basement of the county building where they learned it would take a few weeks to get the results.
Chloe's face fell. “I can't wait a few weeks,” she told Zeb. “I have to get the results so I can get the loan so I can make plans, buy equipment and winterize one of the cabins so I can store my stuff there.” She shook her head, suddenly overwhelmed with the enormity of the project “I don't know. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, after all.”
Zeb stared at her, opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind and closed it as Chloe continued.
“Everything's so different from what I imagined.” She rubbed her forehead. “I was so naive, I thought I could get a loan and open a spa just like that. I can't even start a mineral water business without...” She looked around at the tan institutional walls. “Without a lot of bureaucratic red tape and a lot of work and... Oh, Zeb, what am I doing?” she asked.
“Doing? You're starting a business. You can't give up now.” He took her by the shoulders and held her tight looking deep into her eyes. She gave him a tentative smile and his heart surged. Did his encouragement mean so much to her? She was so vulnerable. Sometimes so sure of herself and other times so insecure. But what was he doing? What was he saying? He wanted her to give up.
“Do you really think I can do it?” she asked, lifting her face to his, her trusting gaze fastened on his.
“Of course you can. If you want to bad enough. But why don't you slow down and relax and enjoy the springs while you can?”
“While I can? What does that mean?”
“It means that once you get the word on the water and actually start bottling, you won't have any spare time.” Whew. Back on track. He'd felt himself waffling for a minute. Hating to see her discouraged. Wanting to see her succeed. Forgetting that her success was his failure. But he got out of it What he'd really meant was that Paradise Springs would not be there forever and she ought to enjoy it while she could.
“If you really believe in me,” she said, her eyes brimming over with hope and confidence, “then maybe I'd better extend my leave at the hospital. And if they say no, I've got better things to do.”
Zeb's heart sank. Extend her leave. Better things to do. “Don't do anything rash,” he warned. “You don't want to jeopardize your job or anything.”
“Why not? The more I think about going back there and doing the same old thing every day, the less it appeals to me. Here, every day is a new challenge.”
“You can say that again,” Zeb muttered. “And if you like challenges, you'll love winter,” he reminded her grimly.
As he walked briskly down the corridor and out the door, he shook his head, afraid she hadn't heard him, afraid she wasn't going to give up after all. And it was his fault. No, it was her fault. She made him do things he shouldn't do, say things he shouldn't say. Not if he wanted to hold on to the ranch for the next generation of Bowies. Maybe there wouldn't be any more Bowies. Sam showed no inclination to get married. And if it was up to him, the line would die out. Because he was never getting married.
Chapter Nine
Chloe found a pay phone in the hallway of the county building and while Zeb went to price fencing at the farm supply store, she called her friend and supervisor at the hospital in San Francisco.
“Chloe! Where on earth are you?” Cass asked.
“In Colorado at my property. Actually I'm thirty miles away at the county seat in McClure. I came to have my water tested,” Chloe said.
“What?”
“I'm planning to bottle and sell my mineral water.”
“What about the spa? My vacation's coming up and I'm ready for a week of pampering and massages,” Cass said.
“Don't pack your bags yet The place needs a little work. I'm going to do it, though. I'm definitely going to do it. It just might take a little longer than I thought. It's...it's kind of remote.”
“Remote? That's okay. I want to get away from it all.”
“Do you want to take a three-mile hike just to get there?”
“Three miles?” Cass said, alarmed.
“Uphill.” Might as well tell it like it was.
Cass's voice fell. “That is remote.”
Remote was only the half of it. It was not only remote, it was downright ramshackle. “And at the moment there's no electricity or phones.”
“Okay, I get the picture. Maybe I'll go to Costa del Oro and have the shiatsu massage. Why don't you come with me? Aren't you lonely there?”
“Not really. I have neighbors. The Bowie brothers. Cattle ranchers.”
“Ooh, do they wear Stetsons and leather boots and lasso cows all day?” Cass asked.
“They're more into breeding.” Chloe's face reddened, remembering how she'd blundered into the middle of their conversation today. “They're very helpful.”
“In what way?” Cass asked.
Chloe listed all the things they did for her, wondering what on earth she would have done without them, her pulse rate increasing as she pictured Zeb digging a post hole for her with his shirt off, his hair in his face, his rugged torso drenched with sweat
“I was just wondering...” Chloe took a deep breath. “Because things are moving so slowly here. What would you think if I didn't come back in the fall, if I took the whole year off?”
“No, you can't. I need you. I have no one to talk to. And Brandon broke up with that nurse in the ER.”
“Really.”
“Really. She transferred to ICU. He was asking about you. Said he was hurt you hadn't told him you were leaving. I think he misses you.”
“Well, I don't miss him. It's so different here. People are more real, close to the earth, honest, trustworthy.”
“People? Or one of those cowboys next door?”
Cass always was perceptive. She knew about Brandon way before Chloe did. But then so did everyone.
“You're not falling for one of those cowboys, are you, Chloe?” Cass asked.
“Of course if they're anything like they are in the movies.”
Chloe gripped the receiver remembering the first time she'd seen Zeb stepping out of the tub, clasping his hat in his hand, covering his...
“Nothing like that,” Chloe said. It was true. Zeb was not a movie star. He was a real man. Down-to-earth, tough, tender, funny, sweet, warm and caring.
“Remember you've been hurt You're in a vulnerable state,” Cass warned.
“Not anymore. I've got my confidence back. I can do anything. Bottle mineral water, build a spa out of a broken-down hot springs resort, and...” She almost said, fall in love again, but she didn't. She had fallen in love again. But she knew what Cass would say. It's too soon. You're on the rebound. She might ask, Does he love you? And she'd have to admit that he didn't. And even if he did, he wasn't going to get married. But maybe if she stuck around he’d get used to having her around, learn to trust her and believe she wouldn't walk out on him.
“And what?” Cass asked.
“Nothing. Well, I've got to go.”
“Don't do anything rash. We want you back. We expect you back. We need you back.”
Chloe hung up, feeling torn in two directions. Despite her newfound confidence, she wasn't at all sure she could make a success of bottling water, building a spa or making Zeb Bowie fall in love with her. Whereas she was wanted, needed and expected back at her job.
As she walked down the street to where the truck was parked, she glanced up at the cumulus clouds that billowed above the county courthouse. What do you think, Great-Grandpa? she asked. Do I have a chance, a chance to rejuvenate Paradise Hot Springs, to make Zeb fall in love with me?