Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (11 page)

So she contented herself with admiring the leaves and walking around small bushes until some feeling returned to her butt. Then she walked toward the stream they’d passed a few minutes before stopping.

Cookie had provided everyone with a hand towel and some kind of soap that was supposed to be ecologically safe to use in the wilderness. The nature-friendly cleanser had made Andrea and Martin happy.

The brush seemed to get sparser the closer she got to the stream. She found a dry spot at the end and crouched in front of the rapidly flowing water.

For a minute or so she simply watched the bubbling and gurgling progress of the stream. The air smelled fresh and damp, with a hint of coolness that teased at her cheeks. She unfastened her watch and set it on a flat rock, then squeezed the soap over her hands and rubbed until there was a thin lather. Then she plunged her hands into the stream.

A fish brushed her, and she jerked her hands out of the water with a little shriek. Unfortunately her hands were still slick and she had to drop them into the stream again to clean them.

Ew.

She reached for her towel. As she picked it up, she heard a slight rustling from behind her.

Standing quickly, she turned, but there wasn’t anyone there. No animals, either, at least not any she could see. If some furry resident had been spying on her, she’d probably scared him off with her scream about the fish. Even if she hadn’t, nothing around here was big enough to be a problem, right? She rubbed her hands on her towel. It wasn’t as if there were bears or anything. Or snakes.

She shivered and took a step back. A sudden loud rustling on her left made her jump again. She whirled around and covered her mouth with her hand as something very big lunged toward her. Something huge and scary and—

“I heard you scream,” Zane said as he stepped out from behind a tree. “What happened?”

Her first instinct was to throw herself at him and beg him to protect her. Good sense intervened, and she settled for taking a step toward him and offering a shaky smile.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

She cleared her throat and went for the casual smile. Her attempt at nonchalance wasn’t helped by her instant and oh-so-familiar physical response to the man’s nearness. It was the usual list of reactions—faster heart rate, weaker thighs and knees, dilated blood vessels and hormones performing bits from the balcony scene in
Romeo and Juliet.

“I might have called out in surprise,” she admitted when it became apparent he wasn’t budging without some kind of an explanation. “A fish touched my hand.”

“Hey, you almost caught your dinner.”

She caught a glimmer in his eyes and laughed. He wasn’t as humorless as some people might think.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

She tossed her towel over her shoulder and smiled. “Great. I really like the riding. Except for my...” She cleared her throat. “I’m not used to sitting on a saddle.”

“Butt numb?”

“A little.”

She waited for him to say it would get better, but when he didn’t, she filled in the silence.

“Rocky seems nice. He’s a little tall for me, but I guess that’s a good thing in a horse.”

Zane’s blue eyes continued to stare straight at her. His lips didn’t move, but somehow she heard the word “idiot” as clear as if he’d shouted it from those snow-covered mountaintops.

“You don’t actually want short horses,” she continued, even though she knew it was a mistake to keep talking. “Except maybe for children. You don’t have any, do you? Children, I mean. Not short horses.”

He was quiet a long time before he answered.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Maya didn’t mention any. Plus, I probably would have seen them at the house, huh?”

He tugged on the brim of his hat. “You about ready to head back?”

“Sure. I just need to get my watch.”

She relished the excuse to turn away. Man, oh, man, had she really said short horses would be good for children? Could she have sounded more stupid? Had there been a wall nearby, she would have banged her head against it a few times, just to give herself something to think about other than feeling humiliated.

As there was no wall, she crossed to the flat rock where she’d left her watch.

“It’s gone.”

Completely. There was the rock, and on top of it was exactly nothing.

She checked around it to see if it had fallen off, then checked her pockets, but she hadn’t put it there and forgotten about it.

Zane walked over to stand next to her. “What did it look like?”

“My watch? It was silver. Not expensive or anything. Just a regular watch.”

“Shiny?”

“I guess.”

“Raccoons.”

Determined not to say anything stupid for at least the next ten minutes, she considered his single-word statement. Raccoons? Okay. He probably hadn’t started a word-association game, so what did he mean?

Going with the safest response, she cautiously repeated, “Raccoons?”

“They like shiny things. Take off with them whenever they can.”

“You’re saying a raccoon stole my watch?”

“Probably.”

She really wanted to point out that they couldn’t possibly tell time, but knew instinctively that was a bad idea.

“Can I get it back?”

“Sure. If you can find it.”

Could she? She glanced around at the underbrush, the trees, the stream.

“Is it safe for me to go exploring?” she asked.

“You’re not likely to be attacked by raccoons, but you’ll probably get lost, fall down a ravine, break your leg and starve to death. But if the watch is that important to you, have at it.”

She felt herself deflating. “You don’t like me much, do you?” she asked sadly.

She half expected Zane to stalk away, but instead he exhaled and shook his head.

“Sorry.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

Had the earth stopped turning, or had the taciturn, hunky cowboy standing in front of her just apologized?

“I—you—” She paused for breath. “That’s okay. I guess it was a stupid question.”

“No. It was a reasonable question under the circumstances.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I get a little sarcastic sometimes.”

“Let’s call it a dry sense of humor.”

He half nodded in acknowledgment. “You’ll never find them, and even if you did, your watch would probably be all broken up and rusty from them dunking it in the water. Don’t leave out anything they’ll take. Shiny jewelry, another watch.”

“I don’t have another watch. Not with me.”

“You need to know the time?”

“Just when the meals are.”

“Cookie rings a bell.”

“Really? Just like in the movies?”

“Yeah.” One corner of his mouth turned up as he spoke. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but it was close enough to get her breathing up to Mach 3.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s nearly time for lunch.”

He started back toward the camp. Phoebe followed him happily.

“You think the raccoons could ever learn to tell time?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Maybe I have a dry sense of humor, too.”

“City girl.”

He was probably insulting her, but the way he said the word made her feel almost tall and, if not blonde, then certainly highlighted.

“I think Rocky likes me,” she confided.

“I’m sure he does.”

CHAPTER TEN

“T
HIS
IS
A
HAMBURGER
,”
Andrea announced with all the enthusiasm of a schoolteacher discovering a student with head lice.

Cookie glared at her. Zane figured his annoyance at having someone question him about his food overrode his natural inclination to flirt with the ladies.

The old man used his spatula to lift up the meat patty and stare underneath it. “Yup. Looks like hamburger to me. Now if you like I could fry you up some bacon to go on it, but I don’t have nothing fancy. None of them designer cheeses or guacamole.”

Andrea pushed her plate at him. “I can’t eat this.”

Cookie’s thick eyebrows drew together. “Listen here, little lady. I’ve been making burgers since before you were spitting up on your mama’s shoulder.”

Andrea turned to her husband. “Martin, it’s a hamburger.”

Martin cleared his throat. “We’re vegetarians, Cookie.”

Cookie frowned and looked at Zane who could only shrug. The cook shook his head.

“I heard tell you don’t eat meat. Don’t make sense to me.”

Andrea shuddered. “Meat is unhealthy, inhumane, and if you knew all the wasted land spent growing food for livestock you’d understand why a non-animal-based diet is so much—”

“You crazy?” Cookie asked, interrupting her.

Andrea looked unamused by the question. “Absolutely not. I am concerned about my health and the state of the environment. Now, I’m requesting an alternative for my lunch.”

Cookie glanced at Zane who shrugged again, then the cook picked up a clean plate. He put a grilled burger bun on first, flipped it open and set lettuce, tomato and cheese on the bottom half. Next he slapped on a mound of potato salad on the plate along with a scoop of cut up fresh fruit, then handed the plate to Andrea.

“Next,” he bellowed, glaring at Martin.

Andrea opened her mouth, then closed it. “Fine,” she murmured from between clenched teeth.

Martin stepped up to Cookie and offered a tentative smile. “Is the beef hormone free?” he asked.

Andrea swung on him. “Martin, you wouldn’t consider actually eating that, would you?”

From where Zane was standing, Martin looked more than a little interested in the juicy burger his wife had refused.

“If it’s hormone free,” he said, not meeting her gaze.

Zane stepped forward. “I don’t use feed with antibiotics in it,” he told Martin. “The steers are healthy, prime beef.”

“Fresh, too,” Cookie said with a wink. “Just last week this one was on the hoof.”

Andrea thrust her plate at her husband and made a beeline for the bushes. Martin paled and said the meat-free burger would be fine. Cookie shrugged as if to say it was his choice, but Zane wasn’t fooled. He collected a plate and took the burger neither Andrea nor Martin had wanted.

“I don’t guess they’ll be asking any more questions,” the cook said with a cackle.

“Serves ’em right,” Chase said as he joined them.

Zane glared at them both. “They’re our guests. Paying guests. Cookie, I want you to figure out something those two can eat. Chase, finish up your lunch, then check on the cattle.”

“But, Zane, I’ve been working all morning.”

“So has everyone else. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, so I suggest you do your best to not cause more trouble.”

Chase grabbed his food and stalked off. Cookie watched him go.

“You’re hard on the boy.”

“He’s earned it.” Zane grabbed a fork and napkin. “You hear me about those two?”

Cookie’s mouth twisted. “They’re vegetarians, Zane. You gotta let me have a little fun.”

“They’re my responsibility.”

“Aw, hell.”

Cookie grumbled as he tended the cook fire, but Zane knew the old man would respect his request. He depended on his crew, and they rarely let him down. If only he could say the same about Chase.

He headed toward the group of canvas and metal chairs that had been set up for the meal. The kids were sitting a few feet away from C.J. and Thad, close to the wagon. Neither of them were eating.

Just perfect, he thought as he stopped next to them.

“Don’t you like your lunch?” he asked.

The girl—Lucy—looked up at him. Her light brown eyes were wide and full of mistrust.

“We heard what that man said. About the burgers.”

The boy nodded, then swallowed. “Are we really eating a cow?”

Zane silently ran through five swearwords, using some in combination, damning Cookie, the tree huggers and Chase most of all. He set his plate on an empty chair and crouched in front of the kids.

He knew in his world that the reality of food coming from something in the garden or one of the four-legged critters out in the field was no big deal, but these were city kids. They might know that meat came from animals, but they’d never spent the day riding next to steers, then dining on one just like them.

“You two in school?”

Tommy looked at his sister, then nodded.

Zane smiled. “I was. A long time ago. Right after the dinosaurs died out.”

Lucy’s mouth twitched a little. “You’re not that old.”

“Gee, thanks. Okay, so maybe it was a little after the dinosaurs, but not by much. I remember this one kid everybody liked to pick on. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t nice, but we did it. Do you two have someone like that at your school?”

Lucy nodded slowly. “It used to be us, but I can beat up a lot of kids, even if they’re bigger than me. Tommy can, too, but he doesn’t like to do it.”

Zane let that go. He had a point, and it wasn’t that beating up on other kids was a bad idea.

“So you understand about teasing people, even when it’s not very nice,” he said. “That’s what Cookie was doing. He was teasing Andrea and Martin about the hamburgers. Grown-ups do that, even when they should know better.”

Thad shifted his chair closer to Lucy. “Zane’s right. I’m sure Cookie’s sorry for what he said.”

Zane doubted that, but he wasn’t going to contradict the guy. Not when Lucy’s expression of mistrust began to fade.

Thad picked up his burger and took a bite. “Cookie sure knows how to make good food.”

Zane reached for his lunch and sampled the hamburger. He didn’t have to fake his pleasure.

Tommy exchanged a look with his sister, then picked up his burger. “I’m hungry,” he said.

Lucy went for a small nibble and chewed.

“Better than the ones at school?” Thad asked.

She swallowed and shrugged. “We get a hot lunch, but we don’t hafta pay for it like other kids. We get a piece of paper that says it’s free.”

Zane watched as Thad glanced first at his wife, then back at the girl. “What about McDonald’s? Are Cookie’s burgers just as good?”

“I can’t remember,” Lucy said. “Tommy and me haven’t been to McDonald’s for a real long time. Not since before staying with Mrs. Fortier.”

“She says that taking kids to restaurants is too expensive,” Tommy added. “And that fast food is a waste of money. But sometimes she and Mr. Fortier have it for dinner.”

The boy sounded wistful as he spoke. Zane saw C.J. turn away as if she didn’t want to hear any more.

Zane took his plate to an empty chair and sat down. As he ate, he glanced around at Eddie and Gladys talking with Maya and Phoebe on the far side of the camp. Phoebe met his gaze, blushed slightly, then looked away.

He found himself wanting to know what she was thinking. He had a couple dozen other questions for her as well, the most pressing of which was would she join him in the privacy of a grove somewhere for a quickie up against a tree.

Real romantic, Nicholson
, he thought grimly. That was sure the way to convince a lady of his intentions. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t had it this bad since he’d been sixteen and so hot for Aurelia Ronwell that he’d driven into Fool’s Gold three nights a week on the pretext of studying with her.

While she’d talked about their classes in school, he’d fantasized about becoming a man in the secret darkness of her young body. When their relationship had ended, all he’d earned for his trouble was two sightings of her bra strap, half a dozen gut-twisting tongue kisses, a slapped hand for trying to touch her breast and straight A’s. The grades hadn’t been worth the agony. Right then and there he’d vowed to never let a girl make him act like a fool again.

He’d lost his virginity that summer to a college girl he’d met at the Summer Festival. Sheryl had been working one of the concession stands, and he’d helped her out when she’d had a flat tire. One thing had led to another. She’d given him his first blow job in the front seat of his truck. At the crucial moment, he’d nearly put his foot through the floorboard. That night he’d stayed with her at her place, and she’d shown him the possibilities between a man and a woman.

When he’d dragged his butt back home about ten the next morning, his father hadn’t said a word. He’d driven to town, and when he’d returned, he’d handed Zane a bag containing several boxes of condoms.

“Don’t get her pregnant,” his old man had said. “Save the babies for the woman you love.”

Zane had always followed the first part of that advice, if not the rest of it. He’d been careful to always use protection, regardless of what the woman in question claimed about being on the Pill. He’d learned to find partners who understood that he was only looking for temporary relief and not happily-ever-after. As for having babies with the woman he loved...he’d learned the hard way what loving a woman did to a man. How nothing else mattered and how losing that woman made a man angry and bitter.

He’d watched his father nearly drink himself to death in the first few months after Zane’s mother had died. He’d heard the cursing, the angry conversations with God, the crash of glasses hitting the wall in the middle of the night. But the worst of it had been when he’d walked into his father’s office and found him holding a gun to his head. In that moment, twelve-year-old Zane realized that nothing he did, nothing he was, would ever matter.

His father had stared at him, his eyes bloodshot, his skin gray.

“I have to be with her,” he’d said. “I can’t live without her.”

Zane had wanted to protest that he couldn’t live without his mother, either, but somehow he managed. He wanted to yell that he was still a kid and that it was wrong for his dad to want to die and leave Zane alone. But he didn’t say anything. He just stood there—watching.

Eventually his father had put the gun away. They’d never talked about it, but every day when Zane came home from school, he wondered if his dad would still be there. Every night as he lay in bed, he listened for the sound of a gunshot.

Zane shook off the memories. His father was gone. The old man might not have paid much attention to his oldest son, but he’d taught him a good lesson. Love turned a man inside out. It ripped him in two and destroyed his world. Better to keep things simple. Better to want than to need.

He turned his attention back to Phoebe, to the curve of her cheek and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears. To the swell of her breasts and the question of what she would taste like if he licked and kissed his way from her toes to the sweet, salty wetness between her thighs.

Dammit all to hell, he thought as he tossed down his fork. All it took was one image like that in his brain, and he was hard as a rock. He was too old to be that out of control. Yeah, it had been a long time since he’d had a lady friend to visit in town, but so what? He often had long stretches without relief. That didn’t mean he had to go around all jacked up like a kid in puberty. It was embarrassing.

Besides, Phoebe wasn’t like the women he usually chose. She wasn’t divorced, widowed or old enough to know better. She had
happily-ever-after
scrawled across her face as clearly as if it was a tattoo. He knew her type, and he steered clear of them. Sally had been like that, and he still felt badly when he thought of how their marriage had ended.

Nope, he knew what was right, and that meant staying away from the brown-eyed beauty with the full mouth and big heart. When they got back to the ranch, he would make a point of going to Fool’s Gold or maybe Sacramento to find himself a nice woman looking for a little uncomplicated action.

* * *

C.J.
IGNORED
THE
chill in the water as she washed her hands after lunch. She used the towel Cookie had given them, then hesitated, not sure if she should wait for Thad to finish or make her escape while she could.

She knew he wanted to talk, and she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. After this many years together, she understood how his mind worked and what he was thinking. The thing was, she didn’t want to hear it.

“Lucy and Tommy seem to be having a good time,” he said.

Trying not to feel trapped, C.J. nodded. Thad was a good man, she told herself. One of the things she loved about him was his goodness.

“Their foster situation doesn’t seem suitable.”