Fool's Gold Collection Volume 3. Susan Mallery
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a scholarship and create a business empire. But how much of that small, frightened, hungry boy remained?
“Just because Clay became a model doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate what you did.”
“Don’t try to get inside my head. It won’t happen.”
“I’m saying maybe you need to give him a break.”
“This advice comes from all the experience you have with a big family?”
She raised her chin. “I grew up with plenty of family. Maybe not the traditional kind, but I know exactly what it’s like to live with a lot of people in a small space.” She held up both hands. “Fine. We’ll let the Clay thing go. But please talk to your mother about Glen.”
“No.”
“For a man who was married before, you really don’t know much about women. No wonder you need to use a matchmaker. Fine. Don’t talk to May. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
* * *
HEIDI PUSHED HER EMPTY GLASS to the edge of the table. She looked across the room to the bar and waited until Jo looked up. When the bartender raised her eyebrows, Heidi tapped her glass and nodded.
Yes, thank you very much, she would like another margarita and maybe even one after that.
“I’m budgeting a hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars,” Annabelle was saying. “I’m hoping to get it for around eighty or ninety, and have the rest for refurbishing and stocking.”
“A bookmobile?” Charlie asked.
Annabelle nodded. “We have a lot of people in our community who can’t get to the library. The last big fundraiser completed the media center, which is great. Plus, if I could get a couple of laptops and a mobile hotspot, we could take the internet to people who’ve never experienced it before.”
Charlie grimaced. “I find you annoying when you’re this earnest. It confuses me.”
“I know. I’m more natural being sarcastic, but I really care about the bookmobile. I’ve been thinking about a festival fundraiser. I need to talk to Pia.”
Pia was responsible for the dozens of festivals in Fool’s Gold. She worked miracles out of a tiny office. Due to her extraordinary planning, decorative flags went up on time, vendors arrived and Porta Potties were delivered.
“We’ll help,” Heidi said. “Just tell us what you want to do.”
Charlie shook her head. “I’m not volunteering.”
“Yes, you are,” Heidi told her. “You know you are.”
Charlie sighed. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“I’m still in the planning stage, but I’ll let you know when that changes to action.”
Jo delivered Heidi’s margarita. She promised their burgers would be out shortly, then went to check on other customers. Heidi reached for her glass only to realize her friends were staring at her.
“What?”
“That’s your second,” Charlie said.
“I know.”
“You usually don’t get a second drink until the food arrives. Sometimes not at all.”
“I’m having a bad day.” Heidi slumped back in the booth. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Annabelle patted her arm. “Jump in wherever you want. We’ll catch up.”
“Glen is sleeping with May. At least I think he is. She was in his room and they were laughing, and it sounded very intimate. I’m worried about her, about Glen breaking her heart. That’s what he does. He’s not a one-woman kind of guy. But when I tried to talk to Rafe, he wouldn’t listen. He thinks Glen is too old to have sex. Stupid man. And all my life, Glen told me love wasn’t real, and if it was, it was for suckers. Now suddenly he’s saying May is the one, and his feelings are real. That he was wrong about love, and I should forget everything he told me before.”
She paused to draw in a breath. “And Rafe has a matchmaker, if you can believe it, and he’s on a date tonight. Because if you had a chance to land someone like him, what’s a three-hour drive to Fool’s Gold, right? And the cows are gone, which is good, because I need the money, and I’m hiring a sales rep for my cheese, which is scary. It was Rafe’s idea, so he’s helping me and trying to take my home from me at the same time.” She drew in another breath. “There’s a lot going on.”
She reached for her margarita and took a long drink.
Annabelle and Charlie exchanged a look.
“That’s quite a list,” Annabelle said.
“Most of it was about Rafe, and she’s drinking more than usual,” Charlie added. “You know what that means.”
“Trouble.” Annabelle shook her head. “Big trouble.”
“Man trouble.”
“There’s no man trouble,” Heidi announced. “None. Zero. Zip. I’m not attracted to Rafe.”
“But you’ve kissed him,” Annabelle said smoothly.
“Yes, but it was—” Heidi slapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to mention the kiss. She dropped her arm to her side. “It’s not what you think.”
“Was there tongue?” Charlie asked.
Prepared now, Heidi pressed her lips together and didn’t speak.
“That’s a yes,” Annabelle said with a sigh. “I miss tongue. Or any kind of kissing. I miss sex and men and orgasms.” She sighed again. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”
“Tongue is exactly what I think,” Charlie said.
Jo brought their burgers. When she left, Heidi grabbed a fry from her plate.
“No, it was an accident. Or meaningless, or both. He has a matchmaker. Who does that? I don’t know why he can’t get his own girl. The man is rich and good-looking. And when he rides Mason… Oh!” She turned to Charlie. “Did you know your horse knows how to rope a steer? Well, the horse part of it. He’s not the one throwing the rope.”
Charlie picked up her burger. “Seeing as I bought Mason, yes, I knew. So Rafe is sexy on a horse?”
“More than should be legal. With those shoulders and in that hat?”
“Oh, no. You have it bad.” Annabelle stared at her. “I thought you were going to sleep with him to keep him from getting the ranch. Not fall for him.”
Heidi took a bite of her burger and chewed. She swallowed, then flicked her fingers at both of them. “I’m not falling for him. He’s not my type. He’s a townie. I know better.”
“Townie?” Charlie mouthed. “I can figure that out in context, but it’s not like you’re still in the carnival. You live in a town. You’re a townie now.”
“Not in my heart.” Heidi drank more of her margarita.
The tequila went down smoothly. If her brain was a little fuzzy, that was a good thing. Soon she wouldn’t have to think about Rafe on a date. With some San Francisco-based bimbo.
“Stupid man,” she muttered. “Who does he think he is, looking that good on a horse? It’s not like I started the kissing, either. He kissed me.”
“Was it amazing?” Annabelle asked wistfully.
“Yes. But it’s not like he wanted to have sex with me.”
“Not that you’re bitter,” Charlie murmured.
“I’m not. Stupid man.”
“You said that already,”