Fool's Gold Collection Volume 3. Susan Mallery

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come to you.”

      He glanced at the lumber yard. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

      “Why not? You’ll be in neutral territory. If they won’t make the drive, they’re not worth the trouble, right? You’ve hired me to find you the perfect wife. I take that responsibility very seriously.”

      “Fine. If one of the candidates wants to come here, I’ll meet her.”

      “Thank you. Now, let me get you some names and we’ll take it from there.”

      “Sure.”

      He hung up, knowing he should probably be more enthused than he was about the whole idea of getting married. Honestly, if he didn’t want kids, he wouldn’t bother with a permanent relationship. But he couldn’t seem to shake the traditional idea of a mother and a father when it came to children. He’d watched his mother struggle after his dad had died.

      He had a feeling that his idea of perfect and Nina’s might not be the same. He’d done his best to explain he wasn’t looking for love. He’d tried that once and it had blown up in his face. This time, he was going to be realistic. Find someone he could be friends with, someone he would enjoy sleeping with, and with whom he could imagine raising children. Nothing else was

      required. Love was a myth, and he was too old to

      believe in fairy tales.

      * * *

      HEIDI RELEASED ATHENA back into the goat corral, then stripped off her gloves. Three very fat, very sassy cats gazed at her expectantly.

      “Where did you come from?” she asked, even as she poured fresh, still-warm goat milk into an old pie pan and set it on the wooden floor of the goat house.

      The first of the cats had shown up about a month after the goats had arrived. Heidi had been milking, minding her own business, only to be startled by a very demanding meow. Foolishly she’d given the black-and-white cat a taste of goat milk. From then on, the cat had shown up exactly at milking time, every day. Eventually it had been joined by a tabby and an all-gray cat with a pushed-in kind of face.

      The cats waited until she put the pie dish on the floor, then began lapping the milk.

      Their coats were in great shape and they were obviously well fed. They must live around here, but where? And how had they learned to tell time? She only milked once a day, and the cats always arrived a few minutes early, then waited patiently until she was finished.

      She supposed she could simply stop giving them milk. After all, she wasn’t much of a cat person. But there was something compelling about the way they stared at her, as if their feline minds should have the ability to direct her actions.

      Still chuckling at the thought of cat mind-control, she carried the fresh milk toward the house. She was halfway across the yard when she realized that an SUV and a Mercedes were in the yard. Vehicles she recognized. Rafe and May had dropped by early.

      It had been two days since their last visit—when she’d gone riding with Rafe and had found herself oddly attracted to the one person who was out to get her. Chemistry, she thought as she walked into the house. It could make a fool of you every time.

      “Good morning,” she said, setting the clean metal buckets on the counter.

      May sat at the table with Glen, a box of pastries between them. Rafe leaned against the counter. While his mother was all smiles and hellos, Rafe regarded her with an unreadable expression.

      “Oh, you were milking. I’d like to see that,” May said. “Do you think I could learn how to do it?”

      “Sure. It’s not that hard. The main rule is to keep everything clean and sanitary. A challenge when it comes to goats.”

      “You sell raw milk?” Rafe asked, his tone very similar to the one a person would use to ask if the entrée contained poop.

      “Every day.”

      “So many people see the benefits of organic goat’s milk,” May said with an enthusiastic smile. “Oh, Rafe, this is going to be so fun.”

      This? This, as in…

      Rafe turned to Heidi. “My mother has decided she would prefer to stay here, rather than at the hotel. If it’s all right with you, of course.”

      The latter was added simply to be polite. Heidi got that. May’s decision to “work things out” was the only reason Glen wasn’t currently in jail. Until the judge ruled, it made sense to play nice. But May living here and—

      Heidi felt her mouth drop open. Rafe raised an eyebrow and nodded imperceptibly.

      “Yes, I’ll be joining her.”

      Because he wasn’t leaving until the case was settled, and a guy like that wouldn’t let his mother come live on the ranch by herself.

      This couldn’t be happening. Both of them at the house? May wasn’t a problem, but Rafe?

      She wanted to say the place wasn’t big enough, but there were six bedrooms and a bathroom on each floor. Something May and Rafe would know, having lived here before.

      “You know we haven’t had the chance to remodel anything,” Heidi said weakly. “The bathrooms are pretty ancient, and the beds are worn and not very comfortable.”

      “It will be perfect,” May assured her.

      Heidi glanced at her grandfather, but Glen was busy stirring his coffee. She had a bad feeling that the issue had been discussed while she was out with the goats and Glen had agreed without any protest.

      “I hope you don’t mind,” May continued, “but Rafe and I have taken the liberty of picking out our rooms. I’m going to stay downstairs.”

      Heidi glared at her grandfather. Glen was downstairs. No doubt he was pleased by the arrangement, but if he thought sleeping with May was a good idea, he was beyond wrong. Heidi was going to have to figure out a way to talk some sense into him.

      “Which makes us roommates,” Rafe murmured. “All right. Housemates.”

      Heidi swung her gaze to his and wanted to stomp her foot at the amusement she saw lurking in his brown irises. Oh, sure. He thought this was funny.

      “You know there’s only one bathroom upstairs,” she said.

      “I can share.”

      “Fine. Of course, you’re welcome to stay here.” She would get through this, figure out a way to pay back the money owed and get on with her life. In a year or two, what was happening right now would be little more than a funny story to share with her friends.

      “Let’s get your things out of the car,” Glen said, rising to his feet.

      Heidi let him go without saying anything. She would corner her grandfather later and remind him why he had to act like a perfect gentleman around May. No seduction allowed.

      She walked to the pantry and picked up several sterilized glass one-quart milk bottles. Rafe walked with

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