Everyone laughed. Heidi saw Glen reach for May’s hand. The older couple was still together, and if she didn’t know her grandfather as well as she did, she would have sworn they were in love. Glen had always done his best to avoid any long-term entanglements, but with May, he was different. She didn’t see any signs of him wanting to get away.
“Remember when Clay brought home that old dog?” May asked. She laughed. “I’d never seen a dog so ugly. He insisted it was a fine-looking animal and that we should keep it.” Her smile faded. “We couldn’t, of course. I could barely feed my children. There wasn’t any extra for a pet. But it would have been nice.”
“You have your animals now,” Glen reminded her.
“I do, and there’s plenty to eat.” She raised her glass. “To my boys, who have made me proud.”
Heidi joined in the toast.
After dinner, everyone helped clear the table. Heidi shooed May out of the kitchen, saying the other woman had done enough with dinner. She was going to clean up. Glen and Shane drifted away, but Rafe stayed.
“I can do this,” she told him.
“I’ll help.”
They worked quickly together. She was aware of him standing next to her, taking the rinsed dishes and putting them in the ancient dishwasher. She wiped down the counters, then wondered how she was going to escape without having to talk. Something that turned out not to be a problem, she thought helplessly, as he waited until she’d rinsed and dried her hands before putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him.
She’d thought he’d try to ask her what was wrong, or, being the kind of man he was, demand that she tell him. Instead, he leaned in and lightly kissed her.
She could have withstood a verbal assault, she thought, feeling the soft brush of his mouth on hers. If he’d insisted, she would have had righteous indignation on her side. But the gentle pressure was irresistible, as was the warmth of his fingers. He straightened and reached up to tug on one of her braids.
“You’re the only woman I know who wears her hair like this.”
“I know it’s not sophisticated,” she began, then wanted to slap herself for admitting that.
“I like it, goat girl.” His dark eyes stared into hers. “I like you.”
Enough to give up his Fool’s Gold housing empire? Enough to tell Nina to go away? Enough to admit a sensible wife was a really stupid idea?
“If you could have anything in the world,” she said. “Anything. Money, fame, sixteen children who adored you, what would it be?”
He hesitated. “Can I get back to you?”
“Sure. But if you asked me that question, I would have an answer. I want the ranch. I want to live here for the rest of my life. I want this to be my home.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. He didn’t back away, but he didn’t have to. His actions were enough.
* * *
ANNABELLE LAID THE OPEN BOOKS on the dirt floor. Charlie had been by early and set up several powerful portable lights, illuminating the uneven cave walls. Heidi shivered and zipped up her jacket.
This deep in the mountains, caves were a constant fifty degrees. The air had a faint, musty quality to it, as if there wasn’t enough circulation.
“You cold?” Annabelle asked.
“No. I’ve never been this far back in the caves. It’s a little creepy.” It was also giving her a bit of a headache.
“Don’t worry,” Annabelle told her. “I have maps and a compass. We won’t get lost.” She pulled two large plastic bags out of her backpack and opened them. “The paint is a special blend. I found the recipe online. I took what you bought and mixed it with a few ground-up, dried leaves and herbs. Amazingly, my college studies didn’t cover how to fake cave paintings. When this dries, it will look old. The trick is to paint in the style of the Máa-zib women.”
She pointed to the books she’d brought. “These pictures are samples to give you an idea. We don’t want to duplicate them exactly. That’s a huge red flag.”
“Do you think we’re going to fool anyone?” Heidi asked, taking the brush Annabelle offered.
“Not for long, but this is all about buying time. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
Heidi shook her head. “I appreciate you helping me with this. If it all goes badly, I’ll swear it was my idea alone.”
“So only you go to prison?” Annabelle asked. “That’s so nice. Thank you. I’m thinking the library board wouldn’t approve of my actions right now.”
“You don’t think they’d be impressed with your skill and ingenuity?” Heidi asked.
“I doubt they’d see it that way.”
Annabelle studied the photograph of the drawing. Heidi moved next to her.
“The paintings tell a story,” she said. “We don’t want to get that elaborate. See this one. It’s about surviving a difficult winter, and here’s a series about a gathering. Probably to celebrate the harvest.”
She flipped the page, and they stared at a stick figure with an obvious erection. “I’m not sure what this one is about, but we’ll skip over it.”
Heidi grinned. “You have to admire their attitude.”
“Use men for sex, then send them on their way? It’s a sensible plan. Men are nothing but trouble.”
She turned a few more pages. “We’ll do best with recreating a nature scene, I think. Less challenging for us, and more confusing for anyone who sees them.”
“So, trees on the mountain and maybe a basket?”
“Perfect,” Annabelle said, handing her a stick with a fuzzy willow bud at the end.
“This is…”
“Your paintbrush.” Annabelle smiled. “The women of the Máa-zib tribe couldn’t trot off to a craft store when they felt the need to be creative.”
“Good point.”
Heidi dipped her stick in the paint. The liquid was thicker than she’d expected and didn’t go on evenly, but she supposed that was the point.
“Well, crap.” Annabelle tilted her head. “I thought I would do some kind of marriage scene, but these women didn’t marry men.”
Heidi studied the sticklike figure of a woman. “Could you show the guy leaving? Or being sent away.”
“That could work. As long as I don’t have to draw the erection.” She started on a tree for background. “Men are such a pain in the butt. Why do we want to be with them so much?”
“Biology,” Heidi said with a sigh. “We can’t escape our DNA destiny. Women are hardwired to bond. Especially after sex.”
“That sounds interesting.”
Heidi realized she’d said a little too much. “Um, I meant in general. I’m not talking specifically.”
“Uh-huh. I’m not sure I believe that.” She dabbed more paint on the wall. “Loving people can be the best thing ever, and it can really suck. Where are you on that scale with Rafe?”
Heidi felt her mouth drop open. She carefully closed it, then studied the wall in front of her.
“I don’t love Rafe.”
“That could be a matter of timing. You’re falling for him.”
“Maybe a little. But I’m being careful.” At least, she hoped she was. Some days it was difficult to tell. “How did you know?”
“You were angry when you found out about the houses, but you were also hurt. It was personal, which means you had a connection.”
“You’re good,” Heidi told her.
Annabelle shrugged. “Those who can, do.
Those who can’t, talk about it.”
Heidi sighed. “I’m confused by him and what’s happening between us.” She decided not to mention they’d slept together. “I hate having to do this.” She pointed to the cave walls.
“Have you talked about compromise? Is that possible?”
“Rafe likes to win. That’s going to matter more than anything else.”
“He’s also a guy who cares about the people in his life. Look how he is with his mother. He still has a heart. Maybe you should appeal to that.”
“I could try,” she said slowly.
“Tell you what. We’ll do the painting, but I won’t phone in the tip until you tell me to. How’s that?”
“Perfect.”
Perhaps when you are next planning to be in the office, you can warn me, so I can go online and view your picture. I want to be sure I remember what you look like.
RAFE STARED AT THE SARCASTIC email from his normally professional assistant, then logged off the internet and closed his laptop.
He was willing to admit that he’d been gone from the office awhile. More than a while. Dante was on his back, too, trying to get him to return to San Francisco and handle the various business deals they had in the works. Rafe was doing what he could from Fool’s Gold, but a few things required his presence. Or if he wasn’t willing to go in, he had to hand more responsibility over to his partner.
Dante would be more than happy to take over the deals. There was nothing Rafe’s lawyer friend liked more than a messy contract or difficult negotiations. But Rafe didn’t want to step back from his business. He’d grown it from nothing and usually enjoyed the process as much as his friend. Just not right now.
He couldn’t explain what was different. With the barn remodel finished, his mother had him planning a major addition to the house. He enjoyed the manual labor more than he’d thought possible. He’d come to appreciate what it meant to ride the land, losing himself in the quiet broken only by birds and the thundering of his horse’s hooves. Hell, he even liked Heidi’s goats.
He crossed to the living room window and stared out at the ranch. He had hated the idea of living in Fool’s Gold, of being surrounded by the ghosts of his past. Now he knew there weren’t any ghosts, and the town wasn’t responsible for what he and his family had gone through. If anything, the people around him had done their best to make things better.
He looked past the barn, to where the development would begin, and imagined rows of houses, tree-lined streets and cars parked at the curbs. But it was impossible. All he could see was an old sheep and some llamas, Heidi’s goats and a couple of Shane’s horses.
Progress demanded change, he reminded himself. With the casino coming in, he could make a killing on those houses. The sheep would have to find somewhere else to live.
He heard a crash from the back of the house and hurried in that direction. He found Heidi leaning against the large table in the mudroom, her face pale and her eyes unfocused. Several stainless-steel bowls had fallen to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, even as he put his hand on her forehead. She was clammy and hot at the same time.
“I feel awful,” she admitted. “The room started swimming for a second.” She looked at the bowls. “Did I drop those?”
“You’re sick,” he told her.
She stared at him. “No, I’m fine.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Okay, maybe I need to throw up.”
“Come on, goat girl. We’re going to get you into bed.”
“But I have to move the goats to another field this afternoon and get the rest of the cheese to the cave.”
“I’ll take care of the goats and the cheese.” He put his arm around her, helping her to the door.
She stumbled along beside him, but when they reached the stairs, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Lightweight,” he murmured, as he picked her up in his arms and started up the stairs.
She shrieked and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?” Then she moaned. “I really feel sick, Rafe.”
“Hang on. We’re nearly there.”
He got her to the bathroom just in time. She rushed to the toilet and dropped to her knees.
“Get out,” she yelled, waving frantically at the door, then turned back to the toilet.
He backed out just in time.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged, looking pale and shaky. He guided her to her bedroom, quickly stripped off her clothes and pulled her nightgown over her head. He was aware of her soft skin, the shape of her breasts, and his expected reaction to the sight, but ignored it all. He might have flaws, but slobbering over a woman with the flu wasn’t one of them.
He helped her into bed.
He’d already pulled the shades and collected extra pillows. Now he sat next to her and stroked a damp washcloth across her face.
“You’re going to have a rough couple of days,” he told her. “I talked to my mom. She’s going into town for supplies. Ginger ale and whatever she needs to make her famous chicken soup.” He smiled at her. “She uses rice instead of noodles, so it’s easier to keep down.”
“I’ll be fine,” Heidi insisted, her eyes drifting closed. “Once I don’t feel like I’m dying.”
“You’re not going to die. Try to sleep.”
“I might need to throw up again.”
“I promise not to tie up the bathroom.”
Her lips curved into a slight smile. “Thank you.”
He pressed a kiss on her cheek. “That’s what friends do for each other.”
“Are we friends?” Her voice was low, a little sleepy and barely audible.
“I hope so, goat girl.”
* * *
HEIDI WAS VAGUELY AWARE of the passage of time, mostly because sometimes it was dark outside her window and sometimes it was light. She spent the first twenty-four hours puking her guts out and wishing she were dead, and the next twenty-four fighting a fever and wishing she were dead. Sometime after that, she slept for what felt like three weeks.
She knew people were coming and going, that a person she didn’t know examined her and proclaimed that, yes, she had the flu and to keep her hydrated. Then she slept some more.
Through it all, she was aware of Rafe. May and Glen took turns at her bedside, but mostly there was Rafe’s strong presence. She felt him wiping her down with a cool cloth and sometimes holding her hand. He’d brought in a TV and tuned it to the Home and Garden channel. One night she woke up to find him next to her in her bed. He was fully dressed, on top of the covers, his arm around her. She’d been surprised but comforted, and had snuggled close before going back to sleep.
Now she opened her eyes and saw light spilling into the room. The brightness suggested it was long past morning. She blinked, not sure what day it was, but feeling more like herself than she had in a long time.
“You’re back.”
She turned and saw Rafe standing in the doorway of her room. He looked good—tanned and strong, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. She frowned. Two bruises that looked suspiciously hoof-shaped marred both forearms.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
He crossed toward her and moved the pillows against the headboard so she could sit up. She sagged against them and touched his left arm. The bruise was still swollen, almost a welt.
He sighed. “Athena didn’t want to move to another part of the ranch. We had words. Or rather, I had words,
and she kicked me.”
“Ouch.”
“Don’t worry. I kicked her back.”
Heidi grinned. “You didn’t.”
“No, but I wanted to.”
“Did you get her moved?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“Silly me.”
He leaned over and touched her forehead. “Good. The fever’s gone. Are you hungry? Could you keep soup down?”
She touched her stomach. “I think so. How long have I been out of it?”
“Nearly four days.”
“That’s not possible. I’ve never been sick like that before.”
“You had us worried,” he admitted. “We called in a doctor. But she said you’d be fine, and she was right.” He straightened. “Let me get you some food. Mom will be thrilled to know you’re awake. She’ll insist on serving about a quart of soup, but only eat as much as you think you can handle. Trust me, there’s plenty more waiting.”
He left.
Heidi leaned back against the pillows. Four days? She didn’t remember much about what had happened, but it couldn’t have been pretty.
She got out of bed and had to pause to steady herself. Her legs felt wobbly, but she made her way to the bathroom. After nearly shrieking at her reflection, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, then ran a comb through her hair. She was desperate for a shower, but based on how weak she felt, that would have to wait.
She managed to make it back to her bed without collapsing, and lay there shaking for a couple of minutes. Less than a minute later, Rafe returned with a tray.
She smelled the soup before she saw it, and her stomach growled.
“It’s even better than it looks,” he told her. “Mom made this every time one of us was sick. It was the best part of feeling like crap.”
Next to the soup was a plate with plain toast and a glass of ice water. She took it all in and realized she was even more thirsty than she was hungry.
The cool water went down easily. Then she started in on the soup. But despite her best intentions, she only managed a half dozen spoonfuls before exhaustion overtook her.
Summer Days Page 20