closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “’Night, Rafe,” she murmured, sounding half-asleep already.
He took that as a no. “’Night, goat girl.”
He walked out, leaving her door open. After using the bathroom, he left the light on so it would be easier to find in a few hours, then made his way to his own room. He was about to close the door when he heard a strange sound. Was Heidi sick already?
He stepped out into the hall and listened. The sound came again. He realized the source was downstairs. A cry. Not of distress, exactly, it sounded like…
His mother?
He flinched and hurried back to his room. After closing the door, he grabbed his iPod and shoved the buds into his ears, then cranked up the volume. Fool’s Gold was, as he’d always known, his own version of hell. A place where his mother made time with the guy who had ripped her off, and where Rafe couldn’t have the one who seemed to be the only woman he wanted.
* * *
RAFE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP close to midnight, only to be awakened about an hour later by the sound of rapid footsteps in the hallway. The bathroom door had slammed. He’d rolled over and gone back to sleep. His phone had beeped at him just before dawn.
He dressed quickly, then grabbed his boots and stepped into the hall. He knocked once on Heidi’s door.
“Go away.”
The voice was weak and full of pain.
He opened the door and saw a huddled shape in the bed. “I’ll take care of the goats this morning.”
“You don’t know how.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You have to sanitize everything.”
“I’ve seen you do it.”
Heidi shifted and one swollen, bloodshot eye peeked out from under the covers. The bit of skin around it was an uncomfortable combination of green and gray.
“What time did you stop throwing up?” he asked.
“I’m not sure I have.”
“I’ll deal with the goats,” he repeated.
“Thank you.” She collapsed back on the bed, then groaned. “Lars is coming.”
“Lars?”
“He trims their hooves.”
“I’ll handle it. Actually, Lars will handle it and I’ll supervise. I like watching other people work.”
“Thank you. I’m probably going to die later.”
“Sorry, no such luck. You’ll wish you were dead, but you’ll make it.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
He wondered how much she remembered from the night before, and figured, even if she recalled begging him to kiss her, she would pretend she didn’t.
“Try to get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll milk the goats and deal with Lars.”
He stepped out of her room and went downstairs. As he passed through the kitchen, he heard soft laughter from the direction of Glen’s bedroom. Being a regular kind of guy, he kept his head down and walked faster. No way he was having that conversation with his mother. At least, not before coffee.
He headed for the goat house and found the goats waiting for their morning milking. Athena’s ears flicked back and forth when she spotted him, as if she’d already guessed there was a change. Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back.
“It’s okay,” Rafe reassured her. She didn’t look convinced.
He washed his hands, then collected the supplies he would need. After everything was set up, he walked toward Athena. She glared at him and stepped to the side, obviously torn between the need to be milked and the fact that he wasn’t Heidi.
The other goats watched. If Athena went easily, they would follow. If she didn’t… He decided not to think about that.
The door pushed open a little and the three cats strolled in. They trotted toward him, mewing in anticipation. The gray cat wound around his ankles, leaving a coat of light-colored hair on his jeans.
“Nice,” he told it.
The cat blinked at him, then purred.
The rumbling sound was loud, yet relaxing. Athena flicked her ears again, then stepped into place, by the short stool.
“All hail the cat,” Rafe murmured, and put on fresh gloves. He sat on the stool, wiped Athena’s teats with disinfectant and went to work.
Five minutes later, he was willing to admit that milking was harder than it looked when Heidi did it. Athena kept glancing at him, as if wondering why she had gotten stuck with the inept human, but finally he finished. The next goat took her place, and so on.
When they were all done, he gave the cats their share, then propped open the doors, so the goats would have the run of the large yard. Usually, Heidi took them to different parts of the ranch to feed on the wild plants, but with the hoof guy coming, Rafe decided to keep them close.
He made sure they had water, then took the milk inside and stored it in the extra refrigerator in the mudroom. He grabbed a quick breakfast, mercifully avoiding his mother, before heading back out to get Ethan’s guys working on the fence line.
Shortly before nine, a battered red truck pulled in next to the goat house. The guy who climbed out was a big bear of a man, with blond hair, a light-colored beard and the kind of muscles that could double for roof supports.
“You must be Lars,” Rafe said as he approached.
Lars frowned. “Where’s Heidi?” he asked in a thick accent.
“She’s not feeling well this morning and asked me to make sure you had what you needed.”
“But I see Heidi.”
Rafe couldn’t tell if Lars wasn’t all there or simply determined.
“Usually, yes, but she’s sick. The goats are here.” He pointed to the gate, where Athena had come to investigate.
“Who are you?” Lars asked, as he collected a wooden toolbox filled with files and what looked like odd scissors, along with jars and brushes.
“Rafe Stryker.”
“You’re with Heidi?”
There was a complicated question. “I’m staying here for now.”
“With Heidi?” Outrage added volume to the question.
Rafe leaned against the fence and allowed himself to smile. “Yes, with Heidi.”
Lars’s
