All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

Dominique thought about the cancer she’d beaten and how afraid she’d been. She knew the prognosis could have easily gone the other way. Chantal had a dangerous job. What if something happened to her?

Denise leaned toward Dominique. “I realize you don’t know me from a rock.” She smiled. “But I have a feeling Mayor Marsha wanted me here because I have six kids. If you’d come by when they were younger, I might have begged you to take a few. At least for the weekend.”

Dominique blinked. “Six children? On purpose?”

Denise laughed. “Not exactly. The last one turned out to be triplets. Unexpected, to say the least. But wonderful.”

Six? She couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have been like. There wouldn’t have been a moment of quiet. Although Dominique had to admit her days recently had too much silence in them.

“Chantal doesn’t like me,” she said flatly, knowing there was no point in avoiding an obvious truth. “She thinks I’m selfish and cruel.”

“Are you?” Marsha asked quietly.

Dominique stiffened. She was about to protest the question when she realized there was no point. She was already leaving. Why would she care what these people thought of her?

“Perhaps a little,” she admitted softly. “Certainly selfish. I’m an artist. My career was important. Of course it’s gone now.”

“You could start by calling her Charlie,” Denise told her. “It’s what she calls herself.”

“She did mention it. Charlie is a horrible name.”

“She would argue the same about Chantal.”

Dominique pressed her lips together. This Denise person was overstepping her bounds.

Denise drew in a breath. “The thing I can tell you about having children is you get back so much more than you give. I know things are difficult with Charlie right now, but she’s a wonderful, giving woman with a big heart. I don’t think it’s going to take very much to change her mind. Tell her that you were wrong and that you’re sorry. Ask for a second chance. If you mean it, if you’re sincere, she’ll give it to you.”

Dominique wanted to point out that Chantal also needed to apologize to her. After all, Chantal had been the one to walk away. But she’d tried that argument before and no one seemed to care about the wrongs done against her.

She thought about what May had said. Her advice had been to care about Chantal. It was what Denise was telling her, as well. Her years of training had taught her that if more than one person made the same criticism, she should listen and correct what she’d been doing. Perhaps that lesson applied to this situation.

Marsha touched her hand. “What have you got to lose, Dominique?”

She thought about the silence and realized there was only one answer. “Nothing.”

* * *

“YOU HAVE the better horse,” Clay said.

Charlie laughed. “I’m the better rider. Face it, pretty boy. You’re not the best at everything.”

“I never said I was.”

“It’s implied. You have a swagger when you walk.”

He grinned. “You like my swagger.”

The normally competent, in-charge Charlie Dixon turned away, but not before he saw her blush. Clay held in a chuckle. He got to her. She might not admit it, but he knew it and she knew it. The best part was she got to him, too.

He guided his horse next to hers, along the trail that followed the fence line of the ranch. The day was warm, with a few white clouds passing across the blue sky. Up on the mountains, the first leaves were starting to turn. Fall was rapidly approaching.

“We’re getting the fall alfalfa into the ground this week,” he said.

She glanced at him. “Your first crop.”

“It’s going to be a good one. The forecasts are for a late frost, so even with having to replow fields, we should have time. The plants need six weeks of growth before the first frost to survive.”

“Someone’s been doing research.”

“I want to know what I’m doing. Nate is the pro, but I make the decisions.”

His farm manager wasn’t a topic he wanted to get into. The situation with Candee still pissed him off. But Nate had sworn he wouldn’t play around with anyone’s teenager again. Clay had agreed to give him another chance and he would abide by that decision. He just wished it sat better in his gut.

“You’ll soon be the Fool’s Gold alfalfa king,” she teased. “You won’t have time to be a volunteer firefighter.”

“I’ll make time. I’m serious about my commitment, Charlie.”

Her smile faded. “I know. I wasn’t saying you weren’t. You were good at the fire, Clay. Everyone noticed. You followed directions, you took charge when necessary and then you backed off.”

Her praise pleased him. “I listened.”

“A rare quality in a man.”

They continued on another half mile or so, then Charlie reined in. “Want to take a break?”

“Sure.”