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Praise
Rave reviews for New York Times bestselling author
SUSAN MALLERY
Hot on Her Heels
“This glimpse into glitzy Texas high society and the dark underbelly of business is a thoroughly enjoyable read.”
—Publishers Weekly
Straight from the Hip
“One of the Top 10 Romance Novels of 2009!”
—Booklist
Lip Service
“Mallery breathes real life into these former lovers hoping for a second chance.”
—RT Book Reviews
Under Her Skin
“Bestseller Mallery’s Lone Star Sisters series opener draws in readers with intriguing characters and a precisely assembled plot.”
—Publishers Weekly
Sweet Spot
“I strongly recommend Sweet Spot, especially to readers who like their family melodramas spiked with lots of laughter and hot romance.”
—The Romance Reader
Sweet Talk
“Sweet Talk is one sweet read! Susan Mallery delivers a deliciously satisfying first book in her new wonderfully written Bakery Sisters trilogy.”
—The Romance Readers Connection (4½ stars)
Also available from Susan Mallery and HQN Books
Almost Perfect
Chasing Perfect
Under Her Skin
Lip Service
Straight from the Hip
Hot on Her Heels
Sweet Trouble
Sweet Spot
Sweet Talk
Accidentally Yours
Tempting
Sizzling
Irresistible
Delicious
Someone Like You
Falling for Gracie
And look for more of Susan Mallery’s fantastic stories set in Fool’s Gold, coming in 2011!
Finding Perfect
Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk
To Jenel—like Pia, you are organized, dedicated and charming. Fool’s Gold would be lost without her and I would be lost without you. A thousand thanks for all you do.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Praise
Also available from Susan Mallery and HQN Books
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright
Chapter One
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN she left me the embryos? I’m supposed to get the cat.” Pia O’Brian paused long enough to put her hand on her chest. The shock of hearing the details of Crystal’s will had been enough to stop the strongest of hearts, and Pia’s was still bruised from the loss of her friend.
She was relieved to find her heart still beating, although the speed at which her heart was pumping was disconcerting.
“It’s the cat,” she repeated, speaking as clearly as possible so the well-dressed attorney sitting across from her would understand. “His name is Jake. I’m not really a pet person, but we’ve made peace with each other. I think he likes me. It’s hard to tell—he keeps to himself. I guess most cats do.”
Pia thought about offering to bring in the cat so the lawyer could see for herself, but she wasn’t sure that would help.
“Crystal would never leave me her babies,” Pia added with a whisper. Mostly because it was true. Pia had never had a maternal or nurturing thought in her life. Taking care of the cat had been a big step for her.
“Ms. O’Brian,” the attorney said with a brief smile, “Crystal was very clear in her will. She and I spoke several times as her illness progressed. She wanted you to have her embryos. Only you.”
“But I…” Pia swallowed.
Embryos. Somewhere in a lab-like facility were frozen test tubes or other containers and inside of them were the potential babies her friend had so longed for.
“I know this is a shock,” the lawyer, a fortysomething elegant woman in a tailored suit, said. “Crystal debated telling you what she’d done. Apparently she decided against letting you know in advance.”
“Probably because she knew I’d try to talk her out of it,” Pia muttered.
“For now, you don’t have to do anything. The storage fees are paid for the next three years. There’s some paperwork to be filled out, but we can take care of it later.”
Pia nodded. “Thank you,” she said and rose. A quick glance at her watch told her she was going to have to hurry or she would be late for her ten-thirty appointment back at her office.
“Crystal picked you for a reason,” the attorney said as Pia walked toward the door.
Pia gave the older woman a tight smile and headed for the stairs. Seconds later, she was outside, breathing deeply, wondering when the world was going to stop spinning.
This was not happening, she told herself as she started walking. It couldn’t be. What had Crystal been thinking? There were dozens of other women she could have left the embryos to. Hundreds, probably. Women who were good with kids, who knew how to bake and comfort and test for a fever with the back of their hands.
Pia couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive. She was a lousy hugger. Her last boyfriend had complained she always let go first. Probably because being held too long made her feel trapped. Not exactly a sterling quality for a potential parent.
Her stomach felt more than a little queasy. What had Crystal been thinking and why? Why her? That’s what she couldn’t get over. The fact that her friend had made such a crazy decision. And without ever mentioning it.
Fool’s Gold was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else and secrets were hard to keep. Apparently Crystal had managed to break with convention and keep some huge information to herself.
Pia reached her office building. The first floor of the structure held several retail businesses—a card store, a gift shop with the most amazing fudge and Morgan’s Books. Her office was upstairs.
She went through the plain wooden door off the side street and climbed to the second story. She could see a tall man standing by her locked office door.
“Hi,” she called. “Sorry I’m late.”
The man turned.
There was a window behind him, so she couldn’t see his face, but she knew her schedule for the morning and the name of the man who was her next appointment. Raoul Moreno was tall, with huge shoulders. Despite the unusually cool September day, he hadn’t bothered with a coat. Instead he wore a V-neck sweater over dark jeans.
A man’s man, she thought unexpectedly. Which made sense. Raoul Moreno was a former professional football player. He’d been a quarterback with the Dallas Cowboys. After ten years in the game, he’d retired on top and had disappeared from public view. Last year he’d shown up in Fool’s Gold for a pro-am charity golf tournament. For reasons she couldn’t figure out, he’d stayed.
As she got closer, she took in the large dark eyes, the handsome face. There was a scar on his cheek—probably from protecting an old lady during a mugging. He had a reputation for being nice. Pia made it a rule never to trust nice people.
“Ms. O’Brian,” he began. “Thanks for seeing me.”
She unlocked her office door and motioned for him to go inside.
“Pia, please. My ‘Ms. O’Brian’ years are looming, but I’m not ready for them yet.”
He was good-looking enough that she should have been distracted. Under other circumstances, she probably would have been. But at the moment, she was too busy wondering if the chemo treatments had scrambled Crystal’s brain. Her friend had always seemed so rational. Obviously that had been a facade.
Pia motioned to the visitor chair in front of her desk and hung her coat on the rack by the door.
Her office was small but functional. There was a good-size main room with a custom three-year calendar covering most of one wall. The squares were half dry-erase material and half corkboard.
Posters for various Fool’s Gold festivals took up the rest of the wall space. She had a storage room and a half bath in the rear, several cabinets and a filing system that bordered on compulsively organized. As a rule she made it a point to visit rather than have people come to her, but scheduling-wise, having Raoul stop by had made the most sense.
Of course that had been before she’d found out she’d been left three very frozen potential children.
She crossed to the small refrigerator in the corner. “I have diet soda and water.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re not the diet type.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “Are you asking or telling?”
She smiled. “Am I wrong?”
“Water’s fine.”
“I knew it.”
She collected a bottle and a can, then returned to her desk. After handing him the bottle, she took a seat and stared at the yellow pad in front of her. There was writing on it, very possibly in English. She could sort of make out individual letters but not words and certainly not sentences.
They were supposed to have a meeting about something. That much was clear. She handled the city festivals in town. There were over a dozen civic events that she ran every year. But her mind didn’t go any further than that. When she tried to remember why Raoul was here, she went blank. Her brain was filled with other things.
Babies. Crystal had left her babies. Okay, embryos, but the implication was clear. Crystal wanted her children to be born. Which meant someone was going to have to get them implanted, grow them and later give birth. Although that was terrifying enough, there was also the further horror of raising them.
Children weren’t like cats. She knew that much. They would need more than dry food, a bowl of water and a clean litter box. A lot more.
“Oh, God, I can’t do this,” she whispered.
Raoul frowned. “I don’t understand. Do you want to reschedule the meeting?”
Meeting? Oh, right. He was here for something. His camp and he wanted her to…
Her mind went blank, again. Right after the merciful emptiness, there was panic. Deep to the bone, intestine-wrenching panic.
She stood and wrapped her arms around her midsection, breathing hard and fast.
“I can’t do this. It’s impossible. What was she thinking? She had to know better.”
“Pia?”
Her visitor rose. She turned to tell him that rescheduling was probably a good idea when the room began to spin. It turned and turned, darkening on the edges.
The next thing she knew, she was in her chair, bent over at the waist, her head between her knees with something pressing down on the back of her neck.
“This is uncomfortable,” she said.
“Keep breathing.”
“Easier said than done. Let go.”
“A couple more breaths.”
The pressure on the back of her neck lessened. Slowly, she straightened and blinked.
Raoul Moreno was crouched next to her, his dark eyes cloudy with concern. She took another breath and realized he smelled really good. Clean, but with a hint of something else.
“You all right?” he asked.
“What happened?”
“You started to faint.” Raoul met her gaze as her eyes widened, and, despite the bigger things crowding her thoughts, she couldn’t miss the zing of interest.
She blinked, and shook her head. “I don’t faint. I never faint. I—” Her memory returned. “Oh, crap.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so not ready to be a mother.”
Raoul moved with a speed that was a credit to his physical conditioning and nearly comical at the same time.
“Man trouble?” he asked cautiously from a safer few inches away.
“What?” She lowered her hands. “No. I’m not pregnant. That would require sex. Or not. Actually it wouldn’t, would it? This is so not happening.”
“Okay.” He sounded nervous. “Should I call a doctor?”
“No, but you can go if you want. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you commenting on my appearance?”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“That sounded almost critical.”
“You know what I meant.”
She did. “I’m okay. I’ve had a bit of a shock. A friend of mine died recently. She was married to a guy in the army. Before he was shipped off to Iraq, they decided to do in vitro, just in case something happened to him. So she could have his kids.”
“Sad, but it makes sense.”
She nodded. “He was killed a couple of years ago. She took it really hard, but after a while, she decided she would have the babies. At least a part of him would live on, right?”
Pia rose and paced the length of the office. Moving seemed to help. She took a couple of cautious breaths, to make sure she was going to stay conscious. Fainting? Impossible. Yet the world really had started to blur.
She forced herself back to the topic at hand.
“She went to the doctor for a routine physical,” she continued. “They discovered she had lymphoma. And not the good kind.”
“There’s a good kind?”
She shrugged. “There’s a kind that can usually be cured. She didn’t have that one. And then she was gone. I have her cat. I thought I’d be keeping him. We have a relationship. Sort of. It’s hard to tell with a cat.”
“They keep to themselves.”
There was something about the way he spoke. She glared at him. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No.”
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Don’t mess with me,” she told him. “Or I’ll talk about my feelings.”
“Anything but that.”
She returned to her desk and sank into the chair. “She didn’t leave me the cat. She left me the embryos. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what she was thinking. Babies. God—anyone but me. And I can’t ignore it. Them. That’s what the attorney hinted at. That I could let it go for a while because the ‘fees’ are paid for three years.” She looked at him. “I guess that’s the frozen part. Maybe I should go see them.”
“They’re embryos. What’s there to see?”
“I don’t know. Something. Can’t they put them under a microscope? Maybe if I saw them, I would understand.” She stared at him as if he had the answer. “Why did she think I could raise her children?”
“I’m sorry, Pia. I don’t know.”
He looked uncomfortable. His gaze lingered on the door. Reality returned and with it, a sense of embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, standing. “We’ll reschedule. I’ll compose myself and be much better next time. Let me look over my calendar and give you a call.”
He reached for the door handle, then paused. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
No, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything. But that wasn’t Raoul’s problem.
She forced a smile. “I’m great. Seriously, you should go. I’m going to call a couple of girlfriends and let them talk me down.”
“Okay.” He hesitated. “You have my number?”
“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t sure if she did, but she was determined to let him escape while she still had a shred of dignity. “The next time you see me, I’ll be professionalism personified. I swear.”
“Thanks. You take care.”
“Bye.”
He left.
When the door closed, she sank back into her chair. After lowering her arms to the desk, she rested her head on them and did her best to keep breathing.
Crystal had left her the embryos. There were only two questions that mattered. Why, and what the hell was Pia supposed to do now?
RAOUL ARRIVED AT RONAN Elementary shortly before two. He parked in the lot by the playground. No surprise—his was the only Ferrari in the parking lot. He was a guy who liked his toys, so sue him.
Before he could climb out of the car, his cell phone rang. He checked his watch—he had a few minutes before he was due inside—then the phone number on the screen. As he pushed the talk button, he grinned.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Hey, yourself,” Hawk, his former high school football coach, said. “Nicole hasn’t heard from you in a while and I’m calling to find out why.”
Raoul laughed. “I talked to your beautiful wife last week, so I know that’s not why you’re calling.”
“You got me. I’m checking on you. Making sure you’re moving on with your life.”
That was Hawk, Raoul thought with equal parts frustration and appreciation. Cutting right to the heart of what was wrong.
“You had some bad stuff happen,” the older man continued. “Don’t wallow.”
“I’m not wallowing. I’m busy.”
“You’re in your head too much. I know you. Find a cause. Get personally involved in your new town. It’ll distract you. You can’t change what happened.”
Raoul’s good humor faded. Hawk was right about that. The past couldn’t be undone. Those who were gone stayed gone. No amount of bargaining, no sum of money, made it better.
“I can’t let it go,” he admitted.
“You’ll have to. Maybe not today, but soon. Believe in the possibility of healing, Raoul. Open yourself up to other people.”
It seemed impossible, but he’d been trusting Hawk for nearly twenty years. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Call Nicole.”
“I will.”
They hung up.
Raoul sat in his car for a few more seconds, thinking about what Hawk had told him. Get involved. Find a cause. What the other man didn’t know was how much Raoul wanted to avoid that. Getting involved is what had caused the problem in the first place. Life was much safer lived at a distance.
He got out of his car and collected the small duffel he’d brought with him. Whenever he visited a school, he brought a few official NFL footballs and player cards. It made the kids happy, and that’s why he was here. To entertain and maybe slip in a little motivation when they weren’t looking.
He glanced at the main school building. It was older but well-kept. He usually spoke to high-school-aged kids, but the principal and class teacher had both been persistent to the point of stalking. He was new to small-town life and was figuring out the rules as he went. As he planned to settle in Fool’s Gold permanently, he’d decided to err on the side of cooperation.
He stepped toward the main walkway, then made his way into the building. Unlike the inner-city schools he usually visited, there weren’t any metal detectors or even a guard. The double doors stood open, the halls were wide and well-lit, the walls free of graffiti. Like the rest of Fool’s Gold, the school was almost too good to be true.
He followed the signs to the main office and found himself in a big open area with a long counter. There were the usual bulletin boards with flyers for book drives and after-school programs. A dark-haired woman sat at a desk, typing on an ancient-looking computer.
“Morning,” he said.
The woman—probably in her midthirties—looked up. Her mouth fell open as she stood and waved her hands. “Oh, God. You’re here. You’re really here! I can’t believe it.” She hurried toward him. “Hi. I’m Rachel. My dad is a huge fan. He’s going to die when he finds out I met you.”
“I hope not,” Raoul said easily, pulling a card out of the bag and reaching for a pen.
“What?”
“I hope he doesn’t die.”
Rachel laughed. “He won’t, but he’ll be so jealous. I heard you were coming. And here you are. This is just so exciting. Raoul Moreno in our school.”
“What’s your dad’s name?”
“Norm.”
He signed the card and passed it to her. “Maybe this will help him deal with his disappointment.”
She took the paper reverently and placed a hand on her chest. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.” She glanced at the clock, then sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Mrs. Miller’s class now.”
“I should probably get started talking to the kids.”
“Right. That’s why you’re here. It’s been wonderful to meet you.”
“You, too, Rachel.”
She came out from behind the counter, then led him back into the hallway. As they walked, she chatted about the school and the town, all the while glancing at him with a combination of appreciation and flirtatiousness. It came with the territory and he’d learned a long time ago not to take the attention seriously.
Mrs. Miller’s class was at the end of the hall. Rachel held the door open for him.
“Good luck,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He entered the room alone.
There were about twenty young kids, all staring wide-eyed, while their teacher, an attractive woman in her forties, fluttered.
“Oh, Mr. Moreno, I can’t thank you enough for speaking with us today. It’s such a thrill.”
Raoul smiled. “I’m always happy to come talk to kids in school.” He glanced at the class. “Morning.”
A few of the students greeted him. A few more looked too excited to speak. At least the boys did. Most of the girls didn’t seem impressed at all.
“Fourth grade, right?” he asked.
A girl with glasses in the front row nodded. “We’re the accelerated group, reading above grade level.”
“Uh-oh,” he said, taking an exaggerated step back. “The smart kids. You going to ask me a math question?”
Her mouth curved into a smile. “Do you like math?”
“Yeah, I do.” He looked up at the class. “Who here really likes school a lot?”
A few kids raised their hands.
“School can change your life,” he said, settling one hip on the teacher’s desk. “When you grow up, you’re going to get jobs and work for a living. Today most of your responsibilities are about doing well in school. Who knows why we need to learn things like reading and math?”
More hands went up.
His usual talk was on staying motivated, finding a mentor, making a better life, but that seemed like a little much for the average nine-year-old. So he was going to talk about how important it was to like school and do your best.
Mrs. Miller hovered. “Do you need anything?” she asked in a whisper. “Can I get you something?”
“I’m good.”
He turned his attention back to the students. The girl in the front row seemed more interested in the pretty scenery outside of the window. Oddly enough, she reminded him of Pia. Maybe it was the brown curly hair, or her obvious lack of interest in him as a person. Pia hadn’t gushed, either. She’d barely noticed him. Not a real surprise, given how her morning had started. But he’d noticed her. She’d been cute and funny, even without trying.
He returned his attention to the students, drew in a breath and frowned. He inhaled again, smelling something odd.
If this had been a high school, he would have assumed an experiment gone bad in the science lab or a batch of forgotten cookies in home ec. But elementary schools didn’t have those facilities.
He turned to Mrs. Miller. “Do you smell that?”
She nodded, her blue eyes concerned. “Maybe something happened in the cafeteria.”
“Is there a fire?” one of the boys asked.
“Everyone stay seated,” Mrs. Miller said firmly as she walked toward the door.
She placed a hand on it before slowly pulling it open. As she did, the smell of smoke got stronger. Seconds later, the fire alarms went off.
She turned to him. “It’s only the second day of school. We haven’t practiced what to do. I think there really is a fire.”
The kids were already standing up and looking scared. He knew they weren’t very far from panic.
“You know where we’re supposed to go?” he asked. “The way out?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” He turned to the students. “Who’s in charge here?” he asked in a voice loud enough to be heard over the bells.
“Mrs. Miller,” someone yelled.
“Exactly. Everyone get in line and follow Mrs. Miller as we go into the hall. There are going to be a lot of kids out there. Stay calm. I’ll go last and make sure you all get out of the building.”
Mrs. Miller motioned for her students to move toward the door.
“Follow me,” she said. “We’ll go quickly. Everyone hold hands. Don’t let go. Everything is fine. Just stay together.”
Mrs. Miller went out the door. The children began to follow her. Raoul waited to make sure everyone left. One little boy seemed to hesitate before leaving.
“It’s okay,” Raoul told him, his voice deliberately calm. He reached for the boy’s hand, but the child flinched, as if expecting to be hit. The kid—all red hair and freckles—ducked out before Raoul could say anything.
Raoul went into the hall. The smell of smoke was more intense. Several kids were crying. A few stood in the middle of the hallway, their hands over their ears. The bells rang endlessly as teachers called for their students to follow them outside.
“Come on,” he said, scooping the nearest little girl into his arms. “Let’s go.”
“I’m scared,” she said.
“I’m big enough to keep you safe.”
Another little boy grabbed hold of his arm. Tears filled the kid’s eyes. “It’s too loud.”
“Then let’s go outside, where it’s quieter.”
He walked quickly, herding kids as he went. Teachers ran back and forth, counting heads, checking to make sure no one was left behind.
When Raoul and his group of kids reached the main doors leading outside, the children took off at a run. He put down the girl he’d been carrying and she raced toward her teacher. He could see smoke pouring into the sky, a white-gray cloud covering the brilliant blue.
Students flowed out around him. Names were called. Teachers sorted the groups by grades, then classes. Raoul turned and went back into the building.
Now he could do more than smell smoke. He could see it. The air was thick and getting darker, making it hard to breathe. He went room by room, pushing open doors, checking under the large teacher desks in front, scanning to make sure no one was left behind.
He found a tiny little girl in a corner of the third room he entered, her face wet with tears. She was coughing and sobbing. He picked her up, turned and almost ran into a firefighter.
“I’ll take her,” the woman said, looking at him from behind a mask and grabbing the girl. “Get the hell out of here. The building is nearly seventy years old. God knows what cocktail of chemicals is in the air.”
“There might be more kids.”
“I know, and the longer we stand here talking, the more danger they’re in. Now move.”
He followed the firefighter out of the building. It wasn’t until he was outside that he realized he was coughing and choking. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.
When he could breathe again, he straightened. The scene was controlled chaos. Three fire trucks stood in front of the school. Students huddled together on the lawn, well back from the building. Smoke poured out in all directions.
A few people screamed and pointed. Raoul turned and saw flames licking through the roof at the far end of the school.
He turned to head back in. A firefighter grabbed him by the arm.
“Don’t even think about it,” the woman told him. “Leave this to the professionals.”
He nodded, then started coughing again.
She shook her head. “You went back inside, didn’t you? Civilians. Do you think we wear the masks because they’re pretty? Medic!” She yelled the last word and pointed at him.
“I’m fine,” Raoul managed, his chest tight.
“Let me guess. You’re a doctor, too. Cooperate with the nice lady or I’ll tell her you need an enema.”
Chapter Two
THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE a community disaster to snap a person out of a pity party, Pia thought as she stood on the lawn at the far end of the Ronan Elementary playground and stared at what had once been a beautiful old school. Now flames licked at the roof and caused glass windows to explode. The smell of destruction was everywhere.
She’d heard the fire trucks from her office and had seen the smoke darkening the sky. It had only taken her a second to figure out where the fire was and that it was going to be bad. Now, as she stood on the edge of the playground, she felt her breath catch as one of the walls seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.
She’d always heard people talk about fire as if it were alive. A living creature with cunning and determination and an evil nature. Until now, she’d never believed it. But watching the way the fire systematically destroyed the school, she thought there might be seeds of truth in the theory.
“This is bad,” she whispered.
“Worse than bad.”
Pia saw Mayor Marsha Tilson had joined her. The sixty-something woman stood with a hand pressed against her throat, her eyes wide.
“I spoke with the fire chief. She assured me they’ve gone through every room in the building. No one is left inside. But the building…” Marsha’s voice caught. “I went to school here.”
Pia put her arm around the other woman. “I know. It’s horrible to see this.”
Marsha visibly controlled her emotions. “We’re going to have to find somewhere to put the children. They can’t lose school days over this. But the other schools are full. We could bring in those portable classrooms. There must be someone I can call.” She glanced around. “Where’s Charity? She might know.”
Pia turned and saw her friend standing by the growing crowd of frantic parents. “Over there.”
Marsha saw her, then frowned. “She’s not getting any smoke, is she?”
Pia understood the concern. Charity was several months pregnant and the mayor’s granddaughter. “She’s upwind. She’ll be okay.”
Marsha stared at the destruction. “What could have started this?”
“We’ll find out. The important thing is all the kids and staff got out safely. We can fix the school.”
Marsha squeezed her hand. “You’re rational. Right now I need that. Thank you, Pia.”
“We’ll get through this together.”
“I know. That makes me feel better. I’m going to talk to Charity.”
As the mayor moved off, Pia stayed on the grass. Every few seconds, a blast of heat reached her and with it the smell of smoke and annihilation.
Just that morning she’d walked by the school and everything had been fine. How could things change so quickly?
Before she could figure out an answer, she saw more parents arriving on the scene. Mothers and some fathers rushed toward the children huddled together, protected by their teachers. There were cries of relief and of fear. Children were hugged, then searched for injuries, teachers thanked. The school principal stood by the children, a stack of pages on a clipboard.
Probably the master roster, Pia thought. Given the circumstances, parents would probably have to sign out their kids, so everyone was accounted for.
Two more fire trucks pulled up, sirens blaring. The school fire alarms were finally silenced but the noise was still deafening. People shouted, the truck engines rumbled. A voice over a megaphone warned everyone to stay back, then pointed out the location of the emergency medical vehicles.
Pia glanced in that direction and was surprised to see a tall, familiar man speaking with one of the EMT women. Raoul’s hair was tousled, his face smudged. He paused to cough and despite it all, the man still looked good.
“Just so typical,” she muttered as she crossed the playground and went toward him.
“Let me guess,” she said as she approached. “You did something heroic.”
“You mean stupid,” the medic told her with a roll of her eyes. “It’s a gender thing. They can’t help it.”
Pia chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” She turned to Raoul. “Tell me you didn’t race into a burning building in an attempt to save a child.”
He straightened and drew in a deep breath. “Why do you say it like that? It’s not a bad thing.”
“There are professionals here who know what they’re doing.”
“That’s what I keep getting told. What happened to a little gratitude for risking my life?”
“Odds are, you would have been overcome by smoke, thereby giving the firefighters more work to do instead of less,” the medic told him. She pulled some kind of measuring device off his finger.
“You’re fine,” she continued. “If you have any of the symptoms we talked about, go to the E.R.” She glanced at Pia. “Is he with you?”
Pia shook her head.
“Smart girl,” the medic said, then moved on to the next patient.
“Ouch,” Raoul said. “This is a tough town.”
“Don’t worry,” Pia told him. “I’m sure there will be plenty of women who will want to fawn all over you and coo as you retell your tale of bravery.”
“But you’re not one of them.”
“Not today.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
For a second she didn’t understand the question. Then reality returned. That’s right—he’d witnessed her breakdown earlier in the day. Talk about an emotion dump.
“I meant to call you,” she said, moving beside him as they walked away from the medics. “To apologize. I usually have my meltdowns in private.”
“It’s okay. I’d say I understand, but you’ll probably bite my head off if I do. How about if I tell you I’m sympathetic?”
“I would appreciate that.”
She hesitated, wondering if she was supposed to say more. Or if he would ask. Not that she had anything to say. She was still grasping the reality of her friend’s bequest and hadn’t made a decision about what to do next. Despite the attorney’s promise that she had at least three years before she needed to decide anything, Pia felt the pressure weighing on her.
Not that she was going to discuss her dilemma in front of Raoul. He’d already suffered enough.
“What were you doing here?” she asked. “At the school.”
He’d come to a stop and was staring back at the school. His gaze moved from one firefighter to another. The chief stood on a garden wall about three feet high, yelling out orders to her team.
“Are you worried about the kids?” Pia asked. “Don’t be. I’ve sat through plenty of preparedness meetings. They’re great to attend if you’re having trouble sleeping. Anyway, there’s a plan for each school, and a master list. Attendance is taken daily and sent by computer to the district office. A list of who is out that day is brought to the disaster site. Trust me. Every student is accounted for.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes bright with surprise. “They’re all women.”
“Most teachers are.”
“The firefighters. They’re all women.”
“Oh, that.” She shrugged. “It’s Fool’s Gold. What did you expect?”
He appeared both confused and lost, which on a tall, good-looking guy was kind of appealing. Assuming she was interested, and she wasn’t. If her natural wariness about guys wasn’t enough, Raoul was famous-ish, and she didn’t need the pain and suffering that came with that type. Not to mention the fact that she might soon be pregnant with another couple’s embryos.
A week ago her life had been predictable and boring. Now she was in the running to be a tabloid headline. Boring was better.
“There’s a man shortage,” Pia said patiently. “Surely you’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of men in town. I thought that was why you’d moved here.”
“There are men.”
“Okay. Where?”
“The town has children.” He pointed to the few students still waiting to be picked up. “They have fathers.”
“That’s true. We do have a few breeding pairs, for experimental purposes.”
He took a step back.
She grinned. “Sorry. I’m kidding. Yes, there are men in town, but statistically, we don’t have very many. Certainly not enough. So if you find yourself exceptionally popular, don’t let it go to your head.”
“I think I liked you better when you were having your breakdown,” he muttered.
“You wouldn’t be the first man to prefer a woman in a weakened condition. Full strength, we’re a threat. Being as big and tough as you are, I’d hoped for something more. Life is nothing if not a disappointment. You didn’t answer my question from before. What were you doing here?”
He looked distracted, as if he were having trouble keeping up. “Talking to Mrs. Miller’s fourth-grade class. I speak to students. Usually they’re in high school, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“She probably wanted to spend the hour looking at your butt.”
Raoul stared at her.
She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“You’re certainly feeling better.”
“It’s more a matter of not being on the edge of hysteria,” she admitted.
She turned her attention back to the school. It was obviously going to be in ruins when all this was over. “How big is your place?” she asked. “You seem like the mansion type. Could they hold classes in your foyer?”
“I rent a two-bedroom house from Josh Golden.”
“Then that would be a no. They’re going to have to put the kids somewhere.”
“What about the other schools in town?”
“Marsha said they were thinking about bringing in those portable classrooms.”
“Marsha?”
“Mayor Marsha Tilson. My boss. You know Josh Golden?”
Raoul nodded.
“He’s married to her granddaughter.”
“Got it.”
He seemed less stunned now, which probably made him feel better. With the smoke smudges on his face, he looked pretty attractive, she thought absently. Not that he hadn’t been devastatingly handsome before. He was the kind of man who made a woman do stupid things. Thank goodness she was immune. A lifetime of romantic failures had a way of curing a woman of foolishness.
“We should make another appointment,” she said. “I’ll call your office and set things up with your secretary.”
“There you go, assuming again. I don’t have a secretary.”
“Huh. Who sets up your calendar and makes you feel important?” she said with a wink.
He studied her for a second. “Are you like this with everyone?”
“Charming?” She laughed. “As a rule. Just ask around.”
“Maybe I will.”
He was teasing. She knew he was teasing. Yet she felt something. A flicker. Maybe a quiver, down low in her belly.
No way, she reminded herself as she waved and walked toward her car. Especially not with a man like him. Successful, handsome men had expectations. Blonde ambitions. She knew—she read People magazine.
Life had taught her many important lessons. The greatest of which was not to depend on anyone to be there for her. She was a strong, independent woman. Men were optional and right now she was going to just say no.
RAOUL SPENT THE NEXT hour at the school. The firefighters got the fire under control. The chief had told him they would have a presence for at least the next twenty-four hours, to control any hot spots. Cleanup would start when the remaining structure had cooled and the investigation was complete.
It was the kind of disaster he’d read about in the paper and seen on the news a dozen times over the years. But even the best reporting hadn’t prepared him for the reality of the heat, the destruction and the smell. It would be months, maybe years, before the campus was even close to normal.
The kids had all gone home, as had most of the spectators. Eventually he turned to walk back to his office. His car wasn’t in any danger, but it was blocked in by several fire trucks. He would return later and collect it. In the meantime, the center of town was only about twenty minutes away.
Raoul had grown up in Seattle, gone to college in Oklahoma, and then been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys. He was a big-city kind of guy, enjoying the restaurants, the nightlife, the possibilities. At least he had thought he was. Somewhere along the way, going out all the time had gotten old. He’d wanted to settle down.
“Don’t go there,” he told himself firmly.
Revisiting the past was a waste of time. What was more important was the future. He’d chosen Fool’s Gold and so far he enjoyed small-town life. Walking nearly everywhere was one of the advantages. So was the lack of traffic. His friends had joked that he wasn’t going to have much of a social life, but since his divorce, he hadn’t been that interested, so it was all working out.
He reached his office, a first-floor space on a tree-lined side street. There was a restaurant—the Fox and Hound—around the corner, and a Starbucks nearby. For now, it was enough.
He reached for his keys only to see the lights were already on. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.
The three-thousand-square-foot office was more than he needed, but he had plans to expand. His summer camp was just the beginning. Changing the world would require a staff.
Dakota Hendrix, his lone year-round employee, looked up from her computer. “Were you at the fire? Didn’t you mention you were going to the school?”
“I was there.”
“Did everyone get out okay?”
He nodded and briefed her on what had happened—leaving out the part where he went back to check that all the rooms were empty.
Dakota, a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and expressive eyes, listened carefully. She had a PhD in childhood development and he’d been damn lucky to find her, let alone hire her.
One of the reasons Raoul had moved to Fool’s Gold had been because of the abandoned camp up in the mountains. He’d been able to get it for practically nothing. He’d updated the facility and this past summer End Zone for Kids had opened its doors.
The camp’s mandate was to help inner-city kids be a part of nature—hardly a unique idea, but one that was appreciated by those who lived in the urban center of broken cities. Local kids came as day campers, and the city kids stayed for two weeks at a time.
The initial reports had been favorable. Raoul had an idea to expand the camp into a year-round facility, a challenge Dakota had understood and wanted to take on. In addition to planning and running End Zone, she’d started writing a business plan for the winter months.
“I heard the fire was awful,” she said when he was done. “That there was a lot of damage. Marsha called me a few minutes ago.” She paused. “Marsha’s our mayor.”
He remembered Pia mentioning her. “Why would she call you about the fire?”
“Mostly she was calling about the camp.” This time the pause was longer. “The city wants to know if they can use the camp as a temporary school. Marsha, the head of our board of education and the principal would like to see it first, but they think it would work. The only other place big enough is the convention center. But it’s pretty much booked and the layout isn’t really suitable. The acoustics would be awful—the noise of one class bleeding into another. So they’re very interested in the camp.” She paused for a third time, drew a breath and looked hopeful.
Raoul pulled out a chair and sat across from her. Hawk’s words about getting involved echoed in his head. This was one way to get involved—but from a very safe distance.
“We don’t have classrooms,” he said, thinking out loud. “But we already have all the beds stored so the bunkrooms could be classrooms. They would be small but workable. With the right kind of dividers, the main building could house a dozen or so classrooms.”
“That’s what I thought,” Dakota said, leaning toward him. “There’s the kitchen, so lunch wouldn’t be a problem. The main dining hall could double as an assembly area. No one knows how much is salvageable in terms of desks, but they’re putting out the word to other districts. We should have some solid numbers in the next couple of days. So they can use the camp? I’ll take care of the details and act as liaison.”
“If you’re willing to take that on.” There would be liability issues, but that’s why he had lawyers.
“I am.”
He and Dakota tossed around potential problems and solutions.
“This will give us a lot of practical information about having the camp open all year,” she told him. “Dealing with the weather. We get a lot of snow in the winter. Can we keep the roads open, that sort of thing.”
He chuckled. “Why do I know all those displaced kids will be hoping we can’t?”
She smiled. “Snow days are fun. Did you have them in Seattle?”
“Every few years.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she told him. “Earn the big salary you’ve given me.”
“You’re already earning it.”
“I was over the summer. Less so now. Anyway, this is great. The town will be grateful.”
“Will they put me on a stamp?”
The smile turned into a grin. “Stamps are actually a federal thing, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Raoul thought about the kids he’d met that morning. Especially the little redheaded boy who had flinched, as if someone hit him. He didn’t know the kid’s name, so asking about him would be problematic. But once the school reopened, Raoul could do some checking.
He remembered Pia’s teasing comment about moving the school to his house. This was close. It would be moving to his camp.
“Want to drive up to the camp with me?” he asked. “We should go and see what changes have to be made.”
“Sure. If there’s anything more than basic cleanup and refurbishing, I’ll have Ethan meet with us.”
Raoul nodded. Ethan was Dakota’s brother and the contractor Raoul had used to refurbish the camp.
Dakota stood and collected her handbag. “We can have a couple of work parties, for general cleaning and prepping. Pia has a phone-tree list that would make the CIA jealous. Just tell her what you need and she can get you a hundred volunteers in about an hour.”
“Impressive.”
They went out, only to pause on the curb.
“My car is at the school,” Raoul said.
Dakota laughed. “We’ll take my Jeep.”
He eyed the battered vehicle. “All right.”
“You could sound more enthused.”
“It’s great.”
“Liar.” She unlocked the passenger door. “We can’t all have Ferraris in our garage.”
“How about cars built in the past twenty years?”
“Snob.”
“I like my cars young and pretty.”
“Just like your women?”
He got in. “Not exactly.”
Dakota climbed in next to him. “I haven’t seen you date. At least not locally.”
“Are you asking for any particular reason?” He didn’t think Dakota was interested. They worked well together, but there wasn’t any chemistry. Besides, he wasn’t looking to get involved, and for some reason he didn’t think she was, either.
“Just to have something to share when I sit around with my friends and talk about you.”
“A daily occurrence?”
“Practically.” She shifted into First and grinned. “You’re very hot.”
He ignored that. “Pia was saying something about a man shortage. Is that true?”
“Sure. It’s not so bad that teenage girls are forced to bring their brothers to prom, but it’s noticeable. We’re not sure how or when it started. A lot of men left during the Second World War. Not enough came back. Some people attribute it to a rumor that the site of the town is an old Mayan village.”
They drove through town. Dakota took the road that headed up the mountain.
“Mayan? Not this far north,” he said.
“They’re supposed to have migrated. A tribe of women and their children. A very matriarchal society.”
“You’re making this up.”
“Check the facts yourself. In the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, part of the mountain opened up, revealing a huge cave at the base of the mountain. Inside were dozens of solid-gold artifacts—Mayan artifacts. Although there were enough differences between these and the ones found down south to confuse scholars.”
“Where’s the cave now?” He hadn’t seen anything about it in his travels or research.
“It collapsed during the 1989 earthquake, but the artifacts are all over the world. Including at the museum in town.”
Something he would have to go see for himself, he thought. “What do matriarchal Mayans have to do with the man shortage in town?”
She glanced at him, then turned her attention back to the road. “There’s a curse.”
“Did you hit your head this morning?”
She laughed. “Okay, there’s a rumor of a curse. I don’t know the details.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Something about men and the world ending in 2012.”
“Dr. Hendrix, I expected better from you.”
“Sorry. That’s all I know. You might ask Pia. She mentioned something about doing a Mayan festival in 2012.”
“To celebrate the end of the world?”
“Let’s hope not.”
Talk about a crazy history. A Mayan curse? In the Sierra Nevada mountains? And to think he’d been worried that small-town living would be boring.
PIA CAREFULLY COLLECTED cat food, dishes, cat toys and a bed that Jake had never used. Jo, the cat’s new owner, had said she’d bought a new litter box and litter. After making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Pia got the pet carrier out of the closet and opened it.
She expected to have to chase Jake down and then wrestle him into the plastic-and-metal container, but he surprised her by glancing from it to her, then creeping inside.
“You want to go, don’t you,” she whispered as she closed and secured the front latch.
The cat stared at her, unblinking.
Crystal had said he was a marmalade cat—sort of a champagne-orange with bits of white on his chin. Sleek and soft, with a long tail and big green eyes.
She stared back at him.
“I wanted you to be happy. I really tried. I hope you know that.”
Jake closed his eyes, as if willing her to be done.
She picked up the tote holding his supplies in one hand and the pet carrier in the other. She took the stairs slowly, then put Jake and his things in the backseat of her car.
The drive to Jo’s only took a few minutes. She parked in front of the other woman’s house. Before she could get out, Jo had stepped out onto the front porch, then hurried down the steps.
“I’m ready,” the other woman called as Pia got out of her car. “It’s weird. I haven’t had a cat in so long, but I’m really excited.”
Jo opened the back door of the car and took out the carrier. “Hi, big guy. Look at you. Who’s a handsome kitty?”
The cooing singsong voice was nearly as surprising as the words. For a woman who prided herself on running her neighborhood bar with a combination of strict rules and not-so-subtle intimidation, Jo’s sweet baby talk was disconcerting.
Pia collected the tote and followed Jo into her house.
Jo had moved to Fool’s Gold about three years ago and bought a failing bar. She’d transformed the business into a haven for women, offering great drinks, big TVs that showed more reality shows and shopping channels than sports, and plenty of guilt-free snacks. Men were welcome, as long as they knew their place.
Jo was tall, pretty, well-muscled and unmarried. Pia would guess she was in her midthirties. So far Jo hadn’t been seen with a man, or mentioned one from her past. Rumors ranged from her being a mafia princess to a woman on the run from an abusive boyfriend. All Pia knew for sure was that Jo kept a gun behind the bar and she looked more than capable of using it.
Pia stepped into Jo’s and closed the front door. The house was older, built in the 1920s, with plenty of wood and a huge fireplace. All the doors off the living room were closed and a sheet blocked the entrance to the stairs.
“I’m giving him limited access for now,” Jo explained as she walked through to the kitchen. “The sheet won’t work for long, but it should keep him on this floor for a few hours.”
Pia trailed after her.
Jo put the carrier down on the kitchen floor and opened the door. Jake cautiously stepped out, sniffing as he went.
“The house is really big,” Jo explained. “That could scare him. Once he gets to know the place, he’ll be fine.”
“He must have loved my apartment,” Pia murmured, thinking of how small it was.
“I’m sure he did. Cats like upstairs windows. They can see the world.”
Pia set the tote on the counter. “You know a lot about cats.”
“I grew up with them,” Jo said wistfully, then leaned down and petted Jake’s back.
Pia half expected the cat to take off one of Jo’s fingers with his claws. Instead Jake paused to sniff her fingers, then rubbed his head against them.
He’d never done that to her, she thought, trying not to be offended. Apparently being a cat person helped.
Jo set out dry food and water on a place mat in the corner of the kitchen. Jake disappeared into the laundry room. A minute or so later, there was the distinctive scratching sound of litter being moved.
“He found his bathroom,” Jo said happily. “He’s all set. He’ll figure out the rest of it. Come on. Let’s go sit in the living room while he explores. I’ve been working on a new peppermint martini recipe. I’d like it ready for Christmas. You can tell me what you think.”
A martini sounded like an excellent plan, Pia thought, trailing after her friend.
They sat on a comfortable sofa, across from the huge fireplace. Jo poured liquid from a pitcher into a shaker, shook it, then tipped the startlingly pink liquid into two martini glasses.
“Be honest. Is it too sweet?”
Pia took a sip. The liquid was icy cold and tasted of peppermint. It was more refreshing than sweet, with a hint of something she couldn’t place. Honey? Almond?
“Dangerously good,” she admitted. “And I’m driving.”
“You can walk home and get your car in the morning,” Jo told her. Her gaze sharpened. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Pia took another taste of her drink. “Just feeling kind of strange. Giving up Jake and all.”
“I’m sorry,” Jo said. “I didn’t mean to steal your cat.”
“You didn’t. He’s not my cat. I thought we were getting along great, but you’ve had more contact with him in the past five minutes than I’ve had in the last month. I don’t think he likes me.”
“Cats can be funny.”
As if to prove Jo’s point, Jake jumped up on the back of the sofa. He stared at Pia for a moment, then turned his back on her. He dropped gracefully to the seat cushion, stepped onto Jo’s lap, curled up and closed his eyes. As he lay there, he began to purr.
Pia found herself feeling snubbed, which hurt a whole lot more than she would have guessed.
“He never purred for me.”
Jo had begun stroking the cat. Her hand froze. “Did you want to keep him?”
“No. I would say he hates me, but I don’t think he put that much energy into it. I just never thought of myself as giving off the anti-cat vibration.”
“You weren’t raised with pets.”
“I guess.”
Apparently Crystal had made the right choice in leaving her cat with Jo. The only question was why her friend hadn’t given Jo the cat from the start. No, she reminded herself. That wasn’t the only question.
She felt a slight burning in her eyes. Before she could figure out what was going on, tears blurred her vision. She set down her drink and looked away.
“Pia?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re crying.”
Pia fought for control, then sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “Sorry. I don’t mean to. I’m feeling all twisted inside.”
“You really can have Jake back. I’m sorry to have upset you.”
Jo sounded earnest and caring, which Pia appreciated. She gulped in a breath. “It’s not the cat. Okay, yes, part of it is he obviously thinks I’m an idiot. It’s just…”
The embryos. She knew that’s what it was. That if she couldn’t get Crystal’s cat to like her, what hope did she have with actual children? Every time she thought of giving birth to her friend’s babies, she started to freak.
She was totally the wrong person. She had no experience, no support system, no nurturing abilities. She couldn’t even bond with a cat.
But she wasn’t ready to talk about that. Not until she’d made up her mind about what to do.
“I miss her,” she said instead, mostly because it was true. “I miss Crystal.”
“Me, too,” Jo said, sliding toward her.
They hugged.
Pia gave in to her tears. Jo held on, patting her back, not saying anything—just being a friend. Oddly enough, Jake stayed where he was, as well. His warm body and the vibration of his purring offered their own kind of comfort.
Pia allowed the caring to heal her, just a little. But even as she started to feel better, somewhere deep inside, she heard the call of three yet-to-be-born children.
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