Summer Days (17 page)

Shane led the way outside.

“As long as Wesley doesn’t expect me to read to him or do math, we’ll get along fine.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“You do have insurance, right?”

Shane glanced at her. “Very funny.”

A delivery truck pulled up and honked.

“I got a package for you,” the woman behind the wheel yelled.

“Been shopping?” Shane asked.

“Sort of,” Heidi said, suspecting the box contained the special paint Annabelle had suggested she order online.

The delivery woman circled around to the back of the truck and pulled out a small box. “You’re going to need to sign,” she said.

Heidi hurried forward and scrawled her signature on the electronic clipboard. Before she could reach for the box, Shane had collected it.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

Heidi waved as the delivery truck drove away, then pointed to the goat house. “In there, please.”

In a couple of days, Annabelle and Charlie would be by to help her with the cave paintings. Heidi knew she didn’t have a choice, but she still felt badly about her decision to fake an archaeological find. Apparently, she wasn’t suited for a life of crime or even deception.

Fortunately, Shane didn’t ask about the content of the box and put it where she pointed without saying a word. They walked back outside.

“I should probably feel guilty about financing your life of crime.”

She felt her eyes widen and instinctively took a step back. “Excuse me?” How had he figured out what she was up to?

He drew his eyebrows together. “I was kidding, Heidi. I know about the problem with who owns the ranch, and that you want to earn enough to buy out my mom. What I’m paying you will go toward the debt.”

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. “You’re okay with that?”

“Honestly? No. I’d rather she stayed here. She loves the ranch. Always did. So did I. I’d prefer the two of you worked out a solution.”

She thought about the plans Rafe had for the land. “I’m willing, but I don’t think ‘compromise’ is your brother’s favorite word.”

“You’ve met him, then?”

She smiled. “More than once.”

“Then you know Rafe is big on winning. It comes from when we were kids.”

“Because he had to take care of the family? As much as a kid can?”

“You’ve heard the story.”

“Not all of it, but bits and pieces. I know he’s not a bad person.”

“Just difficult?” Shane asked.

“That works.”

She felt his gaze on her, but wasn’t going to say any more. Her feelings for Rafe were complicated. If he wasn’t going behind everyone’s back with those houses, she could like him a lot more. If she hadn’t made love with him, disliking him would be a whole lot easier.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Shane told her.

“Can I get that in writing.”

He touched her arm. “Smell that?”

She took a breath. The blending of meat and barbecue sauce drifted to her. “What is it?”

“Dinner. Mom’s making her famous ribs. Once you get a taste of them, everything will seem a whole lot better.”

“You’re a simple guy.”

“I know what I like.”

“An excellent quality,” she agreed, thinking it was a shame she couldn’t feel that sexual hum when she was around this Stryker brother. Falling for Shane would have made life so much easier.

* * *

H
EIDI
HAD
A
BATCH
OF
FETA
to prep before dinner. She’d just collected all the equipment she would need when Rafe appeared at the door.

“Need some help?” he asked.

She wanted to tell him no, that she could handle this herself, but she made the mistake of looking at him before she spoke, and found she couldn’t look away.

There was something about the man’s eyes, she thought. Or maybe just the man himself. Something that made her want to get lost in him, to be held by him, even loved by him. And to think her grandfather had raised her to be smarter than that….

“I’m making feta,” she said.

Rafe groaned. “Why do there have to be so many kinds of cheese? Can’t you specialize in one kind? I could learn how to do one.”

Despite her confusion, the ache in her chest and the way being around him made her breathing uneven, she laughed. “Learning about cheese isn’t part of your job description.”

“Can I help, anyway?”

“Sure.”

He’d assisted her before, so he walked over to the sink to scrub his hands without being asked. When he’d dried them carefully, he pulled on plastic gloves and joined her at the table. Several molds lay on the table.

“Here’s the plan,” she began.

“There’s a plan? This isn’t just random?”

She removed the weights on the molds and then uncovered them. Rafe peered into the first mold.

“Not impressive.”

“It’s cheese. Did you expect it to break into song?”

“If it did, you’d make a lot more money. I’m just saying. So, what’s the next step?”

“It needs salting before we age it.”

He sighed. “Why do I know I’m not going to shake salt on the top and call it a day?”

“Because you’re more than a pretty face.” She pointed to the pans she’d already laid out and the large glass containers of water. “We need a twenty-three percent salt brine solution. They’ll soak in that for twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty-three percent? You’re that precise?”

“If I want the flavor right. After that, the cheese will age in a fourteen percent salt brine solution for about sixty days. We do that at sixty degrees, which is why I use the front part of the cave, where it’s warmer.”

He shook his head. “How do you remember this?”

She pointed to the shelf above their heads. Several notebooks were lined up. “I’ve done a lot of research, I’ve taken classes and I’ve screwed up a lot. I find that’s the best way to learn. I was smart enough to start with small batches, so I didn’t lose too much in the process.”

They carefully transferred the cheese from the molds to the trays, then Heidi and Rafe slowly added the twenty-three percent salt brine. She covered the trays with cloth and stripped off her gloves.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“Until tomorrow. Then I’ll put them into individual, airtight containers with the fourteen percent solution. From there, they go to the caves and do their thing.”

“And it’s cheese in sixty days?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Put me down for five containers,” he told her. “I’ll pay retail. I’m that kind of guy.”

She thought about teasing him, saying that each container would cost him twenty thousand dollars, but found herself unable to speak. Probably because she’d just figured out that either she or Rafe wouldn’t be here in sixty days. No doubt, by then the judge would have ruled and, regardless of the outcome, one of them would be gone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“S
O
,
R
AFE
HAD
THIS
NEW
BIKE
that Mayor
Marsha had given him,” Shane was saying. “He rode it everywhere.”

The five of them sat at an old wooden table Rafe and Shane had
brought out from the barn. The trees around the house provided shade, and a
light breeze cooled the air. On the table were the remnants of their meal. The
ribs May had spent all afternoon slow cooking, homemade mac-and-cheese, salad
and ice-cold beer.

Worried about the paint and her plan to deceive the world,
Heidi would have sworn she couldn’t eat anything. But a single bite of May’s
dinner had been enough to make her ravenous, and she’d eaten her share of
everything. Now full and more relaxed than she’d been in days, she leaned back
and listened to the brothers trade stories about their past.

“I loved that bike,” Rafe said, narrowing his gaze. “You stole
it.”

“I traded it for horseback-riding lessons.”

“It wasn’t yours to trade.”

“I wanted to learn to ride a horse.”

“Things went downhill from there,” May admitted. “I found them
fighting in the barn. Rafe had a black eye and Shane’s nose was bloody.” She
glanced at her middle son. “You shouldn’t have taken his bike.”

“So you said at the time.”

“Did you get it back?” Heidi asked.

Rafe nodded.

“Obviously, you learned to ride a horse,” she said to
Shane.

“Yup. Never did do that well on a bike, but that’s okay.”

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.

* * *

A
NNABELLE
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.

R
AFE
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.