Summer Days (Fool's Gold #7)

“Are you thinking about doing something with them?”


“I don’t know. Kind of. I’ve been fortunate, and being back here has got me thinking. Not every town can take care of its own the way Fool’s Gold took care of my mom and the rest of my family. I hated being poor and people giving me stuff, but without those baskets of food and gifts, we wouldn’t have had anything for the holidays. Mayor Marsha gave me my first bike. Denise Hendrix brought us clothes. The woman had six kids and she’d already taken in a seventh, and she still thought of us. I wonder how many Denise Hendrixes and Mayor Marshas there are in the world.”

“You surprise me.”

“I surprise myself. I haven’t done anything yet. But I’ve spent the past couple of weeks playing with the idea.”

She wished he hadn’t. Of course, she wanted him to help people, but hearing him talk about it made her like him more. She hardly needed help in that department.

“Enough about that,” he said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m thinking chili dogs. What about you?”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

LATE SATURDAY NIGHT, HEIDI was curled up in Rita’s old trailer. She remembered helping her friend re-cover the sofa with the bright floral fabric. Nelson, Rita’s gray-and-white cat, perched on the ottoman, grooming his handsome self.

Rita poured Heidi and herself a brandy, then handed over a glass.

“I remember doing this when you turned twenty-one,” Rita told her. “That was a fun night.”

“Melinda was with us. Her birthday was four months before mine, and she loved to tease me about being able to drink first.”

“Neither of you partied very much. Or got into trouble with boys.”

“We were saints,” Heidi said lightly, sipping the liquid. “Someone should have given us a plaque.”

“You still miss her.” Rita set down her glass. “I don’t need any psychic powers to figure that out. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her.”

“She was my best friend.”

Heidi fought against the sense of betrayal she often felt when she talked about Melinda’s death. If there had been an accident, she was pretty sure she could have come to terms. But Melinda had acted deliberately. More than once. She’d taken her own life, leaving friends and family behind.

“Why weren’t we enough?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears. “We all loved her. He was just some guy. He wasn’t worth it.”

“Do any of us have the power to hurt you as much as Rafe does?”

Not a question she wanted to answer. Glen could annoy her and frustrate her. He could make her want to throw something, as when she’d found out about the money he’d taken from May. But, no, he couldn’t hurt her. His love was absolute, and she’d relied on it her whole life. No matter what, they would be there for each other.

“I don’t want to love him,” she admitted.

“You’re not like Melinda.”

Heidi sucked in a breath. Trust her friend to expose her darkest fear. “You can’t know that. What if my heart breaks as much? What if I can’t face the pain? Melinda had just as much to live for.”

“She was never strong. You were the rock in that relationship.”

“I should have gone to college with her. I could have kept those girls from bullying her, or maybe kept it from mattering so much.”

“You know that’s not true. Melinda had a sadness about her even before her heart was broken. You’re not her, and Rafe is nothing like that boy she loved.”

“You never met him. You can’t know that.”

“I know you, and I’ve watched him. He’s a good man. Confused about a few things, reluctant to risk his emotions. But once he does, he’s loyal. Kind.”

Ridiculously good in bed, but why go there.

“He doesn’t want me. He wants a perfect wife. He has a list, and I don’t meet any of his criteria.”

“He’s protecting himself, trying not to get hurt. It’s what everyone does.” Rita sipped her brandy. “Rafe wants what everyone wants. To belong. Don’t let the fear win. Embrace who you are, including your strength.”

“I want to, but I’m scared.”

“True courage is acting in the face of fear.”

“Can’t I just run instead?”

Rita smiled. “That was never your style. You’ll do what must be done, and you’ll survive.”

* * *

RAFE’S MOTHER SPREAD OUT several large sheets of paper on the kitchen table. As she put them in order, Rafe recognized the basic outline of the ranch. The house and surrounding buildings had been sketched in, along with the fence line. Places for her various animals were marked. He ignored the notations that mentioned a camel and two zebras.

“Here’s what we were thinking,” May told him, practically bouncing in her chair. “Winter homes for the carnival workers.”

She paused expectantly, as if waiting for him to be as excited as she was.