Summer Days (Fool's Gold #7)(35)
Glen strolled into her small office, close to lunchtime. “They’re nearly done loading cattle,” he said.
“I’m glad to hear it.” She glanced at him. “I thought we had a deal.”
Her grandfather, the person she loved most in the world, didn’t bother looking the least bit chagrined. “Now, Heidi, I’m a grown man. You don’t get to dictate my love life.”
“Isn’t it enough you stole two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from May? Now you’re going to break her heart?”
“Don’t say that. She’s a fine woman. Maybe she’s the one.”
“There’s never been a ‘one’ with you, Glen. I thought
you might slow down as you got older, but you haven’t at all. You slept with your attorney.”
“That was when we first arrived. She wasn’t my attorney then.” He walked over and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. It’ll all work out.”
“I’m not worried about you,” Heidi said, exasperated. “I’m worried about May. And you don’t know that it’s going to work out. If you hurt her, she’ll go to the judge, and we’ll lose everything. Have you thought about that?”
Glen’s humor faded. “Heidi, you can’t dictate love. If there’s anything I’ve taught you, it’s that matters of the heart are unpredictable. May is unexpected. And maybe unexpected is what I’ve needed all along.”
“I agree, but whatever pretty words you put on it, you don’t fall in love. You don’t believe in love. You’ve said it a thousand times. You have fun and then you move on. May’s been a widow for years. She’s not the type to understand. You’re risking our home.”
“I’m not. I promise you that. She gets to me, and I can’t let her go. I don’t want to lose her, Heidi. And I won’t. Trust me. Just trust me, little girl.”
With that, he left.
She watched him leave, knowing he was asking for too much. She loved him, but she didn’t trust him.
She worked a couple more hours, then heard footsteps in the mudroom. She logged off her computer and went into the kitchen. Rafe stood by the sink, drinking water. He’d dropped his hat onto a chair by the table and rolled up his sleeves. Sweat darkened his shirt and dust stained his jeans. He looked like an ad for something manly and vaguely sexy.
He finished the glass, then refilled it from a pitcher he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. As he poured, he glanced at her.
“They’re gone. You can roam your land in peace, without fear of being attacked by feral cattle.”
“Thanks for arranging that.”
“No problem.” He quickly drank the second glass of water, then turned to her. “What?”
“I’m worried about your mother.”
“Because?”
“She’s getting involved with Glen. Trust me, no good will come of that.”
Rafe chuckled. “He’s in his seventies. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Don’t dismiss him because he’s over sixty-five. Glen has been charming women for decades. They find him irresistible. He’s not into long-term relationships, which means your mom could be hurt.”
The chuckle turned into laughter.
She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re not taking me seriously.”
“I can’t. Glen and my mom?”
“She was in his room. I heard her laughing.”
“She was probably delivering laundry.”
“They were having sex.”
The humor faded. “No way.”
“I’ve talked to Glen, but he won’t listen. You need to talk to your mom. Glen isn’t the kind of guy who settles down. If that’s what she’s expecting, it’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not discussing my mother’s personal life with her.”
“You’d rather deal with her broken heart after the fact?”
“She and Glen aren’t involved.”
“You know this how?”
“I just do.”
She groaned. “So this is what you do. If you don’t like something, you pretend it’s not real?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What about Clay? He’s your brother and you don’t talk about him.”
Rafe’s gaze hardened. “He’s not your business.”
“You act like he’s a criminal. He’s an underwear model. He probably makes more money than you. What’s the big deal?”
“He could have done something with his life.”
“He is.”
“Nothing to be proud of.”
Heidi dropped her hands to her hips. “You’re a prude. You’re embarrassed by what Clay does, so you don’t talk about it.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re embarrassed to talk to your mom, too. Is it sex?”
“I don’t have a problem with sex,” he growled.
“You have a problem with something.”
“Right now, mostly you.” He set down the water and faced her. “I worked my ass off when I was a kid, taking care of my family. I went hungry, did a man’s job, and I was ten years old. So I have the right to say whether or not my brother is wasting his life. The same with my sister.”