Fool's Gold Collection Volume 3. Susan Mallery
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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,