Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (7 page)

“You’re looking grim, Zane,” Maya said cheerfully when she joined them. “Who died?” She smiled. “Oh, I forgot. You’re just being your usual charming self.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve missed me, I know.”

Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Like foot fungus.”

She laughed and turned to Phoebe. “You’re still alive. I see Zane didn’t bore you to death.”

“Not even close.” Phoebe hugged her friend.

Maya waved forward the bus driver, a pretty woman in her fifties. “Phoebe, this is Elaine Mitchell.”

“You’re the one Maya worked for in high school?” Phoebe asked.

“I am.”

Maya put her arm around Phoebe’s shoulders. “And this is my BFF, Phoebe.”

“Welcome to Fool’s Gold,” Elaine said with a smile.

Instead of her usual suit and high heels, Maya wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and boots. Her blond hair was pulled back in a braid.

“You look like a local,” Phoebe said.

“Speaking of locals,” Maya began, a note of warning in her voice.

“Oh, shit,” Zane said before she could continue.

Phoebe looked toward the bus and immediately saw why Zane’s face had gone a little ashen. The two crazy old women who had cornered her at his truck in town had just gotten off the bus. Eddie and Gladys, if she remembered right. The skinny one was wearing stiff, dark blue jeans and a plaid Western shirt with pearly snaps along the front. The plump one, who still looked as if she had asked for one of everything at the cosmetic counter, was wearing jeans, too, and leather chaps with fringe along the sides. They both had cowboy hats perched atop their white curls.

Beside her Zane muttered under his breath. She caught a handful of words. Something about being old, broken bones and a reference to hanging Chase from the lightning rod in the middle of a storm.

“Ladies,” he said as he stepped forward. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough tents or saddles to add you to the group.”

“I already tried to stop them,” Elaine said, “but they insisted.” She turned to Phoebe. “Eddie and Gladys are known for being a little hardheaded.”

“Among other things,” Maya added wryly. “That one’s Eddie, and that one’s Gladys,” she said, pointing.

“We’re not additions,” Eddie said, “we’re replacements.”

Gladys dug through the large black purse strapped over her forearm and pulled out a checkbook. “We met a nice couple at Ronan’s last night, and they couldn’t say yes fast enough when we offered to buy their spots on the cattle drive.”

“They said they’re gonna stay in town and get a hot stone massage every day instead.”

“But—”

“We already paid,” Eddie said. “Five hundred bucks a pop. Figured it would be worth it if we could see some sexy cowboys. We’ve taken riding lessons from Shane Stryker, but he refuses to take off his shirt for us. I hope you’re not going to be so stubborn.”

Phoebe thought Zane might call off the whole thing, after all, but all he did was mutter, “Fine. Head inside, I’ll bring your things.”

She supposed that novices were a bit of a challenge and senior novices would be even more of one, but to her mind, the older women were quirky and delightful.

“We’re mighty excited about this trip,” Gladys said. “Eddie here has wanted to go on a cattle drive since she first saw
City Slickers.
” She winked. “Not that either of us have a hankering to help with a birthing, mind you. It looked a tad messy.”

Phoebe was charmed.

Eddie reached into her purse and pulled out her video camera. “You never did introduce yourself, little lady. A real cowgirl type?”

Gladys smiled at her friend. “A pretty cowgirl.”

Phoebe ducked her head at the compliment. “Thanks, but I’m as much a newbie at this as everyone else.”

“We’ll watch out for you,” Eddie said.

The two women headed into the house.

“Where’s Chase?” Maya said. “I want to guilt him into getting my bags for me.”

Zane gave a sigh of the long-suffering. “How many?”

“Four, but two of them are small.”

“You’re going on a cattle drive, not touring the capitals of Europe.”

Maya leaned toward Phoebe. “He’s always crabby when people invade his precious ranch. Hmm. Actually he’s crabby most of the time.”

Zane’s scowl didn’t seem to affect Maya, who linked arms with Phoebe, then used her free hand to blow Zane a kiss. Just then, Chase stepped outside. With a whoop, he ran to Maya. She opened her arms wide and pulled him close.

“Hey, sis,” Chase said, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around. “You look good.”

“You’ve grown some,” Maya said in obvious delight. “You’re taller.”

Chase set her down and kissed her cheek. “You forgot better-looking.”

Maya grinned at Zane. “You must take after your mom.”

Their teasing seemed to bother him. Phoebe saw his jaw clench as they continued to banter back and forth. Maya had always said that Zane didn’t appreciate her special relationship with Chase, but Phoebe wasn’t sure that was true. Watching Zane stand by himself made her wonder if instead of being annoyed by their closeness, he felt left out and lonely. She knew she would if she were him.

She shoved her hands into her back pockets and considered the possibility. Honestly, it was tough to imagine someone like Zane feeling lonely or inadequate or any of those emotions experienced by lesser mortals. Maybe she was assuming a tender heart where one didn’t exist.

They said goodbye to Elaine, grabbed the last of the luggage she’d left on the ground, and took it into the house. The guests had congregated in the large living room. Phoebe noticed that Eddie and Gladys made it a point to speak with each of the children. She wondered whether they had grandkids that they saw on a regular basis.

“Do we have enough beds to sleep everyone tonight?” Maya asked Zane quietly. “Phoebe and I can get a hotel if you want and then join you tomorrow morning.”

“We should be fine,” he said. “Besides, if anyone’s going to be kicked out of his bed tonight, it would be Chase.”

“Poor boy.” Maya moved next to Chase and hugged him protectively.

Phoebe knew she was kidding. Even so, she didn’t agree with Maya’s teasing. Zane might be stern and difficult, but this time he was right. Chase had really messed up by offering a fake cattle drive to vacationers. Because of him, Zane was now responsible for all these people. She wanted to say something supportive to him but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound stupid. Or obvious. The last thing she needed right now was Maya figuring out that she was more than a little attracted to Zane.

She satisfied herself with trying to convey empathy with a glance. His dark blue eyes seemed more intense than usual, but maybe that was proximity. She found her gaze drifting down to his lips and her mind zipping back to the kisses that they’d shared. She tried to tell herself that him being a good kisser was meaningless. That sort of a skill didn’t say much about a man, except that he’d either kissed a lot of women or had innate talent. Even as she mentally tried to change the subject, she found herself remembering that Jeff had been a lousy kisser—and more than a bit of a toad—and wondering if Zane came by his talent naturally, or if he’d earned it through lots of practice.

* * *

C
HARLES
E
LVIS
M
ONROE
, otherwise known as Cookie, glared at Zane. “You’re bringing kids along?” he asked in disbelief.

Zane didn’t bother answering. He wasn’t bringing anyone along voluntarily. Instead, he was a reluctant host and caretaker, all in the name of teaching Chase a lesson.

“I figured you’d want to know,” he said, then stepped out of the way as Cookie opened the refrigerator and pulled out an armful of lettuce.

“Kids,” the old man muttered. “I’d ask what you were thinkin’ when you agreed to all this, but I’m guessin’ you weren’t thinkin’ at all.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll make sure I got some stuff along that they’ll like.” He drew his thick, gray eyebrows together. “Anything else?”

Zane thought about Andrea and Martin Lagarde. He cleared his throat and took a step back so he was close to the kitchen’s exit.

“There’s a couple from San Francisco. They’re vegetarians.”

Cookie slammed the lettuce onto the counter and spun around to glare at Zane. “What did you say, boy?”

Zane remembered the first time he’d met the older man. He’d been called all the way to Sacramento to make bail for a few of the cowboys. Apparently the usual Saturday night carousing had gotten out of hand. When the party had finally broken up, they’d been making time with several teenage girls on the shy side of eighteen.

After listening to the list of charges and the men’s explanations, Zane had fired two of the men on the spot, had given three a second chance and left the last one—already on probation for fighting—in jail to serve his time. Cookie had been in the last cell. When Zane had finished his lecture to the men he’d sprung, the old cook had straightened and asked where Zane’s spread was located. Zane had told him. Six weeks later Cookie had shown up. Instead of a resume, he’d baked biscuits, grilled steaks and put together a fudge brownie sundae good enough to make ice sweat. Zane had confirmed there weren’t any outstanding warrants on the man, then had hired him on the spot.

That had been ten years ago. Zane had never learned why the old man had been in jail. Cookie didn’t talk about his past, but then Zane rarely looked into other people’s histories. Cookie was grouchy, opinionated, stubborn about only working with good quality food and disappeared for three weeks every year without saying where he was going.

Zane stood his ground. The fact that Cookie had never started a fight didn’t mean he couldn’t be pushed too far.

“Vegetarians.”

Cookie muttered something under his breath. “I ain’t cooking no tofu. I’ll quit first.”

“Fine by me. You cook what you like. I just wanted you to know.”

“Vegetarians.” Cookie washed his hands, then attacked the lettuce.

Frank walked into the kitchen. “Everything’s all set, boss. Tents, saddles, supplies. Cookie’s wagon is loaded, except for the fresh stuff. We have a schedule set up. You’ll get a delivery every afternoon.”

Zane nodded. “You get a look at the folks?”

His second in command did his best to keep his expression neutral, but Zane saw the corner of Frank’s mouth twitch.

“You mean the fact that you’ve got to deal with Maya’s mouth, some old ladies and a couple of kids?”

Cookie picked up a lethal-looking knife, then reached for several tomatoes. “You left out the good part, Zane. Tell him about the damn nut eaters.”

When Frank looked confused, Zane shrugged. “Vegetarians.”

This time Frank’s entire mouth jerked, but he controlled his humor. “Sounds interesting.”

“Tits are interesting, boy,” Cookie growled. “Vegetarians are just plain stupid. If people want to eat leaves and grubs, then they should go live in the forest. Root around with those ugly truffle pigs and get away from my table.”

“What time is supper?” Zane asked.

Cookie snarled something under his breath, then walked to the back door and stuck his head out. “Billy, you got that there barbecue ready yet, boy?”

“Yes, sir. Coals are hot and gray. You wanted them gray, didn’t you, Cookie?”

“What color gray?”

There was a pause. “Sort of medium.”

“Huh.” Cookie closed the back door and grinned at Zane. “I screw with him because he makes it so easy. Dinner can be ready in half an hour.”

Zane glanced at his watch. “Okay. We’ll have everyone in the dining room by then.”

“What about
those
people?” Cookie practically spit the last two words.

Zane knew who he was talking about. What would Andrea and Martin be eating?

“Let them make do.”

He left the kitchen with Frank on his heels.

Zane had given his guests a couple of hours to settle in and had asked them to collect in the living room at five-thirty. He walked into the large room and found them talking with each other.

The old ladies were playing some kind of game with the two kids while the temporary foster parents looked on uneasily. The tree huggers were admiring pictures of the area, while Maya had helped herself to a drink from the bar. And Phoebe... He braced himself for his unexplainable but very real attraction to her. His brain might know that she was all wrong, but his dick kept pointing in her direction.

She sat next to Maya on the sofa. When he walked in with Frank, conversation gradually ceased. He did his best to offer a warm and welcoming smile, then wondered why he bothered. Charming people was Chase’s job. Zane was the mean-ass brother who worried about work schedules and getting the payroll out. His busy days didn’t leave much time for charm.

Still he wanted to put everyone at ease before he offered them a chance to back out on what might be the disaster of a lifetime.

“I have some announcements,” he said when he had their attention. “First,” he looked at the kids. “Our neighbors brought over a couple of saddles for the kids. They’re worn but serviceable. However, the plan was for a six-day ride. This is a tough pace for some seasoned riders. I’m concerned about the children being able to keep up.”