Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (14 page)

“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

A
FTER
LUNCH
Z
ANE
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 approached. 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?”

Cookie grumbled under his breath.

Zane turned his horse north. “I’ll leave you two to work this all out. Cookie, you know where we’re camping tonight. I’m taking the long way. You should be able to load up and still beat us there.”

“I’ll have the campfires burning bright,” he promised.

“Frank, I’ll see you in a couple of days. Let me know if there are any problems at the ranch.”

“Sure thing, boss. We’ll be fine. You just keep your cowpokes riding straight.” Frank grinned as he spoke.

Zane grunted instead of replying and urged his horse forward. If his second in command thought this was all so damn funny, maybe Zane should put Frank in charge of the cattle drive for a few days. That would worry the humor right out of him. Not that he blamed Frank. If their positions were reversed, Zane would find the situation pretty amusing. Fifty cattle and ten greenhorns. What the hell had he been thinking?

As Frank had said, at least there hadn’t been any disasters and no real trouble. Except for Phoebe. She was a nicely curved, sweet-smelling, sexy, trouble-filled bundle of big eyes, gorgeous legs and a butt that fit his hands as if the two had been made for each other.

He had it bad. Wanting her was one thing. But liking her was something else. She was an animal-loving ditz who would bond with a rock if given the chance. She wouldn’t know poison ivy from honeysuckle. Her idea of the great outdoors was probably spending an evening on her balcony in the middle of Los Angeles. They had nothing in common. They were barely the same species.

But he liked her.

Not just her body or her scent or the way her eyes widened and darkened when he kissed her. He liked that she spoke her mind, even when it was crazy. That she cared about people. She was softhearted, which should have made him think she was an idiot. But he didn’t. He thought she was sincere.

“Sincere,” he muttered. “A patsy.”

But he spoke without conviction. She’d nailed his problem with Chase in one try. That Zane didn’t know how to walk the line between being a father and being a brother.

He wanted better for Chase than he’d had for himself. Wasn’t that what parents always said? Zane did want that for his brother, but he didn’t know how to make it happen. He didn’t know how to save him from regrets. Zane tried. He would have done anything to keep Chase from having the same empty feeling Zane had when he thought about his own life.

As Chase’s surrogate father, he wanted the kid to make the right choices. As Chase’s brother, he wanted him to feel that he was good enough. That he was important. That he mattered.

Zane shook his head. Had he succeeded on even one of those points? The tightness in his gut told him the answer was no.

* * *

“Y
OU
THINK
C
OOKIE
would give me some ice to put in a bucket?” C.J. asked her husband when they’d finished rubbing down their horses. “I’d like to sit in ice water for a while.”

Thad stretched out his arm to hug her and pull her close. “If you promised to eat meat, I think Cookie would do just about anything.”

C.J. chuckled. “Andrea isn’t making friends with him, that’s for sure. While I appreciate her beliefs, shouldn’t she have made sure she could get vegetarian meals before she and Martin signed up? After all, the purpose of the vacation is to herd cattle. Doesn’t that imply beef to you?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Maybe she didn’t read the fine print. Martin seems nice enough. I saw him sneaking a strip of bacon this morning when Andrea wasn’t looking.”

“You’re kidding. Good for him.” C.J. wrinkled her nose. “Why does he let her push him around?”

“Men have always done foolish things for the women they love.”

“Oh, really? What foolish things have you done for me lately?”

He raised and lowered his eyebrows. “I’d be willing to do several tonight.”

“In a tent?” She made herself sound more shocked than she really was.

“In a tent. Out of a tent. Your call.” He leaned close and dropped his voice to a whisper. “How about if I start by massaging your aching fanny?”

“That works for me.”

They made their way into the camp. Andrea’s shrill voice cut through the quiet of the afternoon. C.J. winced.

“I wonder what she’s complaining about now. It’s not just that she’s a vegetarian, it’s that she’s so rabid about it. She told me she’d brought ‘feminine’ supplies with her so that if I got my period, I was to let her know. Apparently she has special tampons she buys that are organic or unbleached or made out of recycled paper or something.”

Thad sighed. “Poor Andrea. She must be very unhappy. She could take a lesson from Eddie and Gladys. Those are two women who know how to live.”

C.J. wasn’t thrilled about the shift in topic. While she agreed that the old ladies seemed to be extraordinarily happy, she couldn’t help thinking they had probably been blessed with trouble-free lives.

“Hey, Thad! Look what we found.”

C.J. stiffened as she heard Tommy’s voice. Lucy and her brother broke through the trees on the edge of the clearing. The boy held something in his hand as he raced toward them. Lucy was a few steps behind. C.J. opened her mouth to warn him to slow down or he would fall, then pressed her lips together. Every time she made a comment like that both children looked at her as if she were the biggest bitch on the planet. Worse, C.J. was pretty sure they were right.

A small log lay between Tommy and them. The boy jumped over it easily, then came down on both feet. But something happened because, instead of staying solidly planted, his right foot slid out from under him. He threw his arms open wide to try and find his balance. Whatever he’d been holding went flying as he tumbled to his knees and skidded on the dirt.

C.J. winced as he rolled over, and she saw the blood and dirt on his knee. She and Thad started toward him. Thad sprinted ahead and got there first. He sank next to Tommy and pulled him close.

“That had to hurt,” he said calmly. “Let’s take a look and see what you’ve done.”

Tommy winced as he thrust out his leg. C.J. crouched down and examined the ugly scrape.

“We’ll need the first-aid kit,” she said. “Cookie said he has one.”

Lucy bent over her brother’s injury. “You okay?”

He nodded, but didn’t speak. C.J. figured he was trying not to cry. She thought about telling him it was okay to cry, that no one would think less of him, but she didn’t know how to express herself without coming off as superior. Better to do something practical.

She rose and headed toward the cook fire. She found the old man pouring barbecue sauce over chicken breasts and quickly explained what had happened. Cookie dug out a large first-aid kit and handed it to her.

“Tell the kid it’s gonna be okay,” the old man said. “We’re having strawberry shortcake for dessert.”

She wasn’t sure that the promise of shortcake was enough to ease Tommy’s pain, but it was worth a try. Maybe thinking about it would distract him from the worst of it. They would have to clean the wound. Did the first-aid kit have something that wouldn’t sting? She would—

C.J. came to a sudden stop. She and Thad had left their saddlebags in a heap when they’d gone off to take care of their horses. Now Lucy was crouched in front of them. She had the flaps open and was quickly going through the contents.

“I knew it,” C.J. breathed. “They stole from us at the party and that girl is doing it again.”

She marched toward Lucy. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as anger surged through her. “Get away from our things.”

Lucy spun around, then jumped to her feet and tucked her hands behind her back. “I wasn’t doing nothing.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

Lucy’s dark eyes flashed with defiance. “I was looking for bandages. For Tommy’s knee. It’s bleeding real bad.”

“Don’t lie to me. You heard me say I was getting the first-aid kit from Cookie. There would be bandages inside that.”

Her anger grew until she was shaking. Why had she allowed Thad to convince her to come on this trip? So these ingrate children could have a vacation? They were thieves. They’d probably been born that way, and they would no doubt grow up to commit bigger and better crimes.

Lucy’s mouth quivered. “You were gone a long time.”

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands and go through our saddlebags. Is that it? I’m sorry to tell you, Lucy, that we didn’t bring any money with us. I had a feeling if we did, you’d just try to steal it.”

“I would not. I—” She caught her breath. “You’re a mean, old butthead.”

With that, Lucy turned and ran away. C.J. swore quietly. She wanted to go home right now. She wanted to have never come on this ridiculous trip. Instead she was stuck with thieving children and rabid vegetarians. And one of those children was bleeding.

C.J. hurried to the edge of camp. Tommy was still sitting on the ground with Thad’s arms around him. She tried not to notice how comfortable her husband looked holding the boy. Chase jogged up and collected the first-aid kit from her.

“Why don’t you hold his hand?” he said. “I’ll take care of cleaning the wound.”

C.J. took a step back. How could she explain that she wasn’t the sort of woman who was good at holding children’s hands? While she wanted to help, they never seemed comforted. She had hoped that by having her own child, or even adopting a baby, she would be able to figure it all out in time. Once her child loved her, he or she would understand that C.J. cared with all her heart, even if she didn’t always know what to say.

“What happened?” Gladys asked as she walked toward them. “Oh, the poor dear. Tommy, did you fall? You’re being very brave.”

Eddie joined her friend. “What are you going to use on that scrape, Chase? Got any hydrogen peroxide? It won’t sting so bad. Plus, Tommy will like the way it bubbles. All that white fizzing and foaming is like a battle going on right there on your knee. The good guys are fighting with the germs. Of course the good guys always win.”

“H-how do you know?” Tommy asked.

Eddie crouched next to him. “I’ve seen plenty of battles on knees in my day. Josh, my boss, takes spills off his bicycle all the time. Never seen one where the good guys didn’t kick butt.”

C.J. took another step back, then another. No one noticed. She turned and headed for the small stream she’d seen on their way in.

When she got there, she found a flat rock to sit on and folded her arms over her chest. She felt all ragged inside, and her eyes burned as if she wanted to cry.