Summer Days

by Susan Mallery

  Shortly before nine, a battered red truck pulled in next to the goat house. The guy who climbed out was a big bear of a man, with blond hair, a light-colored beard and the kind of muscles that could double for roof supports.

  “You must be Lars,” Rafe said as he approached.

  Lars frowned. “Where’s Heidi?” he asked in a thick accent.

  “She’s not feeling well this morning and asked me to make sure you had what you needed.”

  “But I see Heidi.”

  Rafe couldn’t tell if Lars wasn’t all there or simply determined.

  “Usually, yes, but she’s sick. The goats are here.” He pointed to the gate, where Athena had come to investigate.

  “Who are you?” Lars asked, as he collected a wooden toolbox filled with files and what looked like odd scissors, along with jars and brushes.

  “Rafe Stryker.”

  “You’re with Heidi?”

  There was a complicated question. “I’m staying here for now.”

  “With Heidi?” Outrage added volume to the question.

  Rafe leaned against the fence and allowed himself to smile. “Yes, with Heidi.”

  Lars’s face reddened and his tire-size hands curled into fists. The man was a good five or six inches taller and probably seventy pounds heavier than Rafe. He knew he could handle himself in a fair fight, but against a mountain? Then he shrugged. What the hell. He’d beaten worse odds in his life.

  But Lars didn’t attack. Instead, his shoulders deflated and he reached for his toolbox.

  “I see the goats now.”

  * * *

  HEIDI INHALED CAUTIOUSLY. May had something baking in the oven, and while normally the smell of cake would make her day, this afternoon she wasn’t sure even the most delicious of aromas was safe.

  She’d stopped throwing up sometime before dawn, but it had taken until close to noon for her to decide that maybe she wasn’t going to die. Sometime around ten, Rafe had appeared with weak tea and toast. The man had simply left the plate and mug, then backed out without speaking. Something for which she was grateful. Last night was very much a blur, but she did have one distinct memory. That of her telling Rafe he could kiss her.

  Because feeling like roadkill wasn’t punishment enough. She also got to be humiliated. Talk about not fair.

  She crossed the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. The first sip of the dark liquid went a long way toward restoring her belief in a brighter tomorrow, although the pounding behind her eyes didn’t lessen. Maybe if she moved very, very slowly. She vowed she would never be this stupid again and, if she was, next time she would wake up her grandfather, regardless of the hour, so he could fix her his magic remedy.

  “You’re up!”

  The bright, cheerful, loud words made her jump. Her headache turned into a vise grip, and she had to hold in a whimper.

  Heidi turned and tried to smile at May. “Yes. I’ve decided I’m going to make it.”

  “You must have had quite the night.”

  “I guess.” She glanced toward the window. “I didn’t drive home, did I?”

  “No. One of your friends brought you. Glen and Rafe went into town to get your truck. They should be back in a little while.” May took her by the elbow and led her to the kitchen table. “You should sit down. You’re still a little gray.”

  “I feel gray,” Heidi admitted, grateful she wasn’t at risk of having to face Rafe anytime soon. “Too much tequila.”

  “At least you had fun.”

  “I hope so. I don’t remember very much.” She’d been with her friends, and Rafe had been on his date. That had upset her—well, that and the fact that he’d kissed her. It was more the one-two punch of events than either on its own.

  She glanced at May. “Did I wake you when I came in?”

  May blushed, then hurried toward the pantry and pulled out a loaf of bread. “I didn’t hear a thing. Rafe mentioned you had a difficult night, though.”

  Heidi winced as she remembered puking up her guts. “Let’s just say, whoever told me alcohol really is a poison wasn’t lying.”

  May popped a slice into the toaster. “You’ll get better today. Hydrate. That will help.”

  Heidi nodded, even though the thought of facing a glass of water made her want to gag.

  “It’s nice that you have friends here,” May said as she poured Heidi more coffee. “I’ve met a few of the women I used to know, from when we lived here before. So many of them stayed. I envy them that.”

  She returned the carafe to the stand and looked out the window. “I never forgot the view from this sink. How I could watch the changing of the seasons.” She glanced at Heidi and smiled. “I was raised in the Midwest. When we first moved here, I couldn’t get over how tall the mountains are. How beautiful. After my husband died, I knew I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Money was tough, but we had this house and the town.”

  Heidi’s head had cleared enough for her to be able to follow the conversation. “Rafe mentioned the man who owned this land, Mr. Castle, promised you would inherit it.”

  May nodded. The toast popped. She set the slice on a plate and lightly buttered it, then carried it over to Heidi.

  “He did. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but he was a mean old man. I believed him and trusted him, and in the end, lost it all. When he died and it turned out he’d left the ranch to a relative, I was devastated. I had to move. I probably should have stayed in Fool’s Gold, where I had friends, but I was humiliated.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  May settled across from her. “I know that now, but at the time, I couldn’t get past the fact that Mr. Castle

  had taken advantage of me. I’d lost my husband a few years before, and then the ranch. So we moved and started over.”

  Heidi nibbled the toast. Her headache was a little better. Unfortunately, without the distraction of the throbbing, she was able to imagine May’s plight more easily. Four little kids, no home, no money. Talk about desperate.

  “You must have done something right. Look at your children.”

  May laughed. “They are wonderful, and while I want to take all the credit, they did a lot of it themselves. Rafe went to Harvard.”

  “I saw the picture.”

  “Shane works magic with horses. He breeds them and he’s working on his own herd. Clay…”

  Heidi reached across the table. “I know about Clay. He’s very successful.”

  May’s eyes danced with humor. “Rafe doesn’t approve, so I try not to talk about Clay around him, but I think it’s funny. My son, the butt model. He does well for himself, though.”

  “Which is part of what pisses off Rafe.”

  “True.”

  The timer went off. May walked to the stove and pulled open the oven. She drew out the cake, then shook her head as she surveyed the uncooked side. “Oops. I forgot to turn it.” May spun the pan and reset the timer. “This old place. It needs a lot of fixing.”

  “A new oven.”

  “A bigger hot-water heater.”

  Heidi really didn’t want to think about why May might need more hot water than the average person, but she knew the answer. Showers for two tended to last a long time. She worked very hard to keep the visual out of her brain, then drank a few swallows of coffee for courage.

  “May, you’re a lovely woman.”

  May leaned against the counter. “That’s an ominous beginning. If you were my doctor, I would know I was a goner for sure.”

  “It’s Glen. I’m worried about you. He won’t listen, but I’m hoping you will.”

  “You’re afraid he’s going to break my heart.”

  “Yes.”

  May nodded. “You’re sweet to worry. Glen told me the same thing himself.
That he’s not the kind to settle down, that I’m the kind of woman looking to find something permanent.”

  She brushed her hand through her short, dark hair. “My husband died over twenty years ago. I’ve accepted I’ll never care about anyone the way I cared about him. He gave me my boys, and he will always be my first true love. But it’s time for me to have a little fun.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “I don’t want to marry Glen, Heidi. I want to play, and he’s the right man to help me remember how.”

  Pure TMI, Heidi thought. Or whatever qualified for more than too much information.

  The timer went off. May pulled out the cake. It was still lopsided, although slightly less so.

  “Maybe it will be better with frosting?” Heidi offered. “And sprinkles?”

  May laughed. “You’re my kind of girl. What crisis can’t be fixed with frosting and sprinkles?”

  Heidi knew she was supposed to laugh, too. But in that moment she was too overwhelmed by a sense of loss. She’d always told herself that she couldn’t miss what she’d never had. That when her parents had died, she was so young that she didn’t remember anything about them. But at this moment, with May, she found herself longing for a chance to have grown up with a mother. Someone who baked and offered advice on boys and knew how to pick out a prom dress.

  The past couldn’t be changed, which left only the future. Somehow, she would have to get out of the mess of the ranch and the money, without losing everything and without hurting May.

  CHAPTER NINE

  RAFE WALKED ACROSS THE barn’s roof. From that height, he could see across much of the ranch. The goats had been taken to the north end of the property. He could see them munching their way through fresh spring grass, no doubt as happy as goats could be.

  The fence line was finished. He didn’t want to think about how many posts had been dug out and replaced, how many miles of wire fencing were carefully stapled into place. To his mind, it was a whole lot of work for eight goats, but his mother had insisted.

  “Rafe!”

  He turned, and one of the guys tossed him a plastic water bottle. His mother filled them each night and put them in the freezer. By midmorning, they were still cold but had melted enough to drink. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow.

  His days were supposed to be spent in meetings. He excelled at getting what he wanted and assigning action items to others. Dante frequently joked that if Rafe left a meeting with actual work to do himself, he considered it a failure.

  These days he spent his hours sweating. Roping, riding, building fences and now repairing the barn. He no longer bothered showering and shaving in the morning. Instead, he rolled out of bed, pulled on jeans and boots, and headed out to work until his muscles ached.

  He’d gone back in time, living in the same house as his mother, in a place he swore he would never return to. Except everything was different. He didn’t mind the hard physical work. He enjoyed being able to point to the proof of his labor, to run his hands across a post or part of the barn and know that it was better, it was there, because of him.

  Instead of going out to restaurants with beautiful women, he found himself in the ranch house’s old dining room, across from Heidi, with Glen and his mother at the table. But the conversation flowed easily. Glen had a hundred stories about life in the carnival. Heidi had a few of her own, and Rafe enjoyed listening to them. He also enjoyed the sound of her laughter and the anticipation he felt when she smiled at him.

  Some days, after he’d finished his work and headed for his shower, he thought about dragging her along with him. About her being naked with him, under the spray, his mouth on hers, his hands everywhere. The thought of slick soap and wet skin and the things they could do to each other. Then he reminded himself that she wasn’t who he was looking for, and getting involved would be a level of stupid he wouldn’t allow.

  But a man could still dream.

  He finished his bottle of water and dropped the empty container to the ground below. The repair work on the barn was going steadily. He figured they would be done by tomorrow. Of course, by then his mother would have a whole new list of projects. When he’d gone in for lunch a couple of days ago, she’d been ordering a new stove.

  He wanted to remind her that getting the ranch wasn’t a sure thing, but he knew he would be wasting his breath. Better to just work his way through the chores.

  He’d barely picked up his hammer when a large animal transport truck pulled into the ranch. Rafe watched the vehicle slow and then stop. He hadn’t spent much time with Heidi in the past couple of days. Not since the night she’d gotten drunk. He figured she was embarrassed and avoiding him. Even so, he was pretty sure he would have heard about any new goats showing up.

  He made his way to the edge of the roof and carefully climbed down a ladder. His mother burst out of the house.

  “They’re here!”

  In her jeans and T-shirt, she looked closer to thirty-five than fifty. She clapped her hands together and practically danced with excitement. Rafe felt something sinking in his stomach.

  “Mom, what did you do?”

  “You’re going to have to see for yourself.”

  She met the driver. His helper came around back and started unlatching the trailer’s big door and lowering a ramp. Rafe heard sounds from inside the transport, but couldn’t place them.

  He didn’t think she would have ordered more goats without talking to Heidi, and he doubted she would get a horse without Shane’s advice.

  His mother signed the last of the paperwork and joined him. Just then, Heidi came out of the house.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “We have to wait and see,” Rafe told her.

  “It’s a surprise.” May hugged him. “I’m so excited.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

  The two men went into the trailer. The helper came down the ramp first, leading…

  “A llama?” Rafe asked, staring at the tall, off-white, fuzzy animal.

  “Isn’t he beautiful? At least, I think that’s the boy. I can’t tell for sure. It always seems so rude to look. But yes. A llama. Three, altogether.”

  Rafe glanced at Heidi, who looked as surprised as he felt.

  “Are you going to raise them for their hair or fur or whatever it is?” Heidi asked. “Aren’t they related to camels?”

  “They’re social herd animals,” May told her. “And so beautiful. I saw them on eBay and couldn’t resist. Plus, they’ll protect the goats. I read an article, and several ranchers are using llamas to protect their livestock. Especially with the pregnant goats. We’re so close to the mountains. There could be a coyote or wolf. We wouldn’t want anything happening to one of the girls.”

  “Of course not,” Rafe murmured. Llamas? What was his mother going to do with them if the judge ruled against her? Her condo in San Francisco wasn’t llama-friendly.

  Heidi drew in a breath. “Okay, where are you putting them?”

  “I was thinking of that section of the ranch.” May pointed west. “It gets plenty of light. There are trees and that hillside for them to climb.”

  And running water, Rafe thought grimly, remembering his mother had insisted he run a pipe out to the area.

  May moved toward the llama. “Hello, sweet one. You’ll be happy here.” She glanced back at Heidi. “They’re a little older, so I thought they could use a good home.”

  May moved off with the helper and showed him where to put the animal. The driver appeared with a light brown, slightly smaller llama, and followed the first.

  “Old llamas?” Heidi murmured, moving closer to Rafe. “I kind of admire her philosophy.”

  “Sure. She bought them to protect your pregnant goats. What’s not to like?”

  “Feeling a little stressed, are we?”
<
br />   “Someone needs to rein her in.”

  “She’s your mother.”

  “Someone other than me.” He glanced longingly toward the west. Somewhere in San Francisco was a meeting he should probably be attending.

  Once the three llamas were in place, two elderly sheep were led down the ramp. They went in the fenced area next to the llamas.

  “Anything else?” Rafe asked, almost afraid to look in the trailer.

  “That’s it,” the driver said, and handed over the receipts.

  May took them happily and gazed out at her animals. “I’ve been doing research on how to care for them. Glen’s been a big help.”

  “Lots of animals in the carnival?” Rafe asked, wondering how much worse things were going to get before they shifted to better.

  “Not really,” Heidi admitted. “A couple of goats and a few dogs. It wasn’t a circus. You’re going to need a large-animal vet. I use Cameron McKenzie. I’ll get you his number.”

  A vet. Right, because old animals would need plenty of care.

  “You couldn’t start taking in cats, like other women your age?” he asked his mother.

  She swatted his arm. “Don’t act like I’m losing it. I’ve thought this over, and having these animals on the ranch is what I want to do. They make me happy.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t as if he could tell her not to be happy, nor did he want to.

  May wandered toward the fencing, where she could gaze at her new critters. Rafe rubbed his forehead.

  “I really admire your mother,” Heidi admitted. “She’s full of life.”

  “That’s not all she’s full of.”

  Heidi grinned. “You love her and would do anything for her.”

  “It’s my downfall. Why couldn’t I be one of those guys who hates his mother? Life would be a lot easier.”

  “You don’t walk away from your responsibilities. Except when it comes to Clay. I find that very interesting.”

  A statement that had come out of nowhere. “I have llamas and sheep in my life now. Can we not talk about my brother for a few days? Unless you’d rather discuss your recent drunkenness.”