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, you’re a lovely woman.”
May leaned against the counter. “That’s an ominous beginning. If you were my doctor, I would know I was a goner for sure.”
“It’s Glen. I’m worried about you. He won’t listen, but I’m hoping you will.”
“You’re afraid he’s going to break my heart.”
“Yes.”
May nodded. “You’re sweet to worry. Glen told me the same thing himself. That he’s not the kind to settle down, that I’m the kind of woman looking to find something permanent.”
She brushed her hand through her short, dark hair. “My husband died over twenty years ago. I’ve accepted I’ll never care about anyone the way I cared about him. He gave me my boys, and he will always be my first true love. But it’s time for me to have a little fun.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “I don’t want to marry Glen, Heidi. I want to play, and he’s the right man to help me remember how.”
Pure TMI, Heidi thought. Or whatever qualified for more than too much information.
The timer went off. May pulled out the cake. It was still lopsided, although slightly less so.
“Maybe it will be better with frosting?” Heidi offered. “And sprinkles?”
May laughed. “You’re my kind of girl. What crisis can’t be fixed with frosting and sprinkles?”
Heidi knew she was supposed to laugh, too. But in that moment she was too overwhelmed by a sense of loss. She’d always told herself that she couldn’t miss what she’d never had. That when her parents had died, she was so young that she didn’t remember anything about them. But at this moment, with May, she found herself longing for a chance to have grown up with a mother. Someone who baked and offered advice on boys and knew how to pick out a prom dress.
The past couldn’t be changed, which left only the future. Somehow, she would have to get out of the mess of the ranch and the money, without losing everything and without hurting May.
CHAPTER NINE
RAFE WALKED ACROSS THE barn’s roof. From that height, he could see across much of the ranch. The goats had been taken to the north end of the property. He could see them munching their way through fresh spring grass, no doubt as happy as goats could be.
The fence line was finished. He didn’t want to think about how many posts had been dug out and replaced, how many miles of wire fencing were carefully stapled into place. To his mind, it was a whole lot of work for eight goats, but his mother had insisted.
“Rafe!”
He turned, and one of the guys tossed him a plastic water bottle. His mother filled them each night and put them in the freezer. By midmorning, they were still cold but had melted enough to drink. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow.
His days were supposed to be spent in meetings. He excelled at getting what he wanted and assigning action items to others. Dante frequently joked that if Rafe left a meeting with actual work to do himself, he considered it a failure.
These days he spent his hours sweating. Roping, riding, building fences and now repairing the barn. He no longer bothered showering and shaving in the morning. Instead, he rolled out of bed, pulled on jeans and boots, and headed out to work until his muscles ached.
He’d gone back in time, living in the same house as his mother, in a place he swore he would never return to. Except everything was different. He didn’t mind the hard physical work. He enjoyed being able to point to the proof of his labor, to run his hands across a post or part of the barn and know that it was better, it was there, because of him.
Summer Days (Fool's Gold #7)
Susan Mallery's books
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- Just One Kiss
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- Almost Perfect (Fool's Gold #2)
- Sister of the Bride (Fool's Gold #2.5)
- Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)
- Only Mine (Fool's Gold #4)
- Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)
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