of her. “You can’t ask me to help you, then tie my hands and expect a miracle.” She chuckled. “Okay. I won’t mention it. I wonder if Rafe would be interested in sleeping with me? I wouldn’t say no to that one, despite the age difference.”
A visual Heidi didn’t want, but at least the concept was a distraction.
“Rafe and May have moved in.”
Trisha winced. “I don’t like the sound of that. Getting them out could be a problem.”
“With what the judge said about us sharing the ranch, I didn’t think I could tell them no. The house is big enough.” She wasn’t going to mention her worries about Glen. As far as she was concerned, there’d already been too much sex talk.
“How’s it working out?” Trisha asked.
“May is lovely. Very sweet and motherly. She cooks.”
“Ask her to come live with me,” Trisha said with a sigh. “I would kill for a home-cooked meal.”
“Tell me about it. But Rafe is complicated.”
“His type always is.”
“I’ve heard more about what happened to May and her kids back when she worked for the previous owner. He was horrible to her.”
“That may be true,” Trisha said. “It shouldn’t have an effect on the judge, but everybody’s human.”
“What do you know about Rafe’s younger brother Clay?”
Trisha leaned back in her chair and sighed. “You don’t know?” She laughed. “You really should.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you seen his picture?”
“Sure. May put several out in the living room.”
“Oh, not that kind.” Trisha typed on her laptop, then turned the machine so it faced Heidi.
The photo of a man filled the screen. He was naked, the shot taken from the back—his butt front and center, so to speak. Trisha reached around and pushed a button. The picture changed to Clay Stryker in extremely tight bikini briefs. Unless he’d been Photoshopped, his, assets were impressive.
Heidi felt her eyes widen as she stared. “He’s a—”
“An underwear model. Also a movie butt-double. Trust me, the studios pay big bucks to get his ass up on-screen. Very successful.”
“Rafe talks about him like he’s a criminal. Actually, he doesn’t talk about him.”
“Probably embarrassed. Rafe is a successful business guy. Do you think he likes having his little brother posing half-naked on a Times Square billboard?”
Heidi didn’t know Rafe well enough to be sure. “But he’s family.”
“Not everyone thinks being family is enough. How’s the financial plan coming?”
Heidi would rather talk about Clay’s butt or nearly any other topic. “Not well. I’m going to try to sell more cheese, and I have a couple of pregnant goats. Their kids will bring in money.”
“Am I right in thinking they don’t go for a hundred thousand each?”
“Not exactly.”
“How did you buy the ranch in the first place?”
Heidi shrugged. “I won a small lottery jackpot. It was enough for the down payment, closing costs and the goats. We had a few dollars in savings. I’ve started playing again, but I don’t hold out hope I’ll win a second time.”
“Any rich relatives ready to die?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” She turned the computer around and closed the top. “You need to come up with a way to pay back a significant percentage of what Glen stole. The judge isn’t going to want to hear about a plan that takes a decade. I’m serious, Heidi. You could lose the ranch, and Glen could go to prison. For real.”
“I’ll come up with something,” Heidi promised, although she wasn’t sure what or how.
* * *
RAFE SURVEYED THE FENCE. Most of the posts were leaning or missing, and the material between had either disappeared or was hanging by a single staple. The job would go faster if there were no fence at all. As it was, he would have to check each of the posts, pull the ones that weren’t sturdy enough, get rid of all the old wire fencing and then start with new material.
“That’s a lot of work.”
Rafe turned and saw Glen walking toward him. The old man pulled a pair of gloves out of his jeans’ back pocket.
“So we should probably get started.”
“You planning on helping me?” Rafe asked. He would guess Glen had been eligible for social security for close to a decade. Sure, he looked wiry, but what about his heart? Rafe wasn’t interested in putting the old man at risk.
“I put in my years as a roadie. Besides, it’s not like you’re digging holes the old-fashioned way.” He pointed to the engine-powered auger Rafe had rented. “Hell, boy, I’ve been handling machines like that longer than you’ve been alive.”
Boy? Rafe hid a grin. If Glen was trying to intimidate him, he was going to have to work a lot harder.
“You want to drill the postholes, you go ahead,” Rafe told him, thinking it would be the easiest work of the day. The equipment would provide most of the muscle, and Rafe would handle the heavy lifting.
Rafe had barely pulled out the first of the leaning posts when two trucks drove onto the ranch. They headed right for the fence line and came to a stop only a few feet away. There was one guy in the first truck, and two in the second.
The first man climbed out and walked toward Rafe. He was tall, with dark hair, and there was something about him that seemed familiar. Almost as if Rafe had met him before.
The man laughed as he approached. “I wouldn’t have recognized you, either,” he said. “Not if I hadn’t heard you were back in town.”
Rafe studied the stranger. “Ethan? Ethan Hendrix?”
“That’s me.”
The two men shook hands.
“Welcome home,” Ethan said. “I remember you hating Fool’s Gold. I can’t believe you’re back.”
“I’m not back or home. This is temporary.”
Ethan glanced at the stacks of fence posts and rolls of fencing. “Looks pretty permanent to me.”
“My mother is planning to stay in town. I’m helping her out.”
“You always did take care of her.”
