Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(66)

“We’re talking about the dog and not Gideon, right?” Isabel asked.

Felicia smiled. “Yes, the dog.”

“You’re not as weird as you think,” Consuelo told Felicia. “Being in Fool’s Gold has changed you. You’re much more open and relaxed.”

“The town has helped,” Felicia said. “And having a family.”

“And the sex,” Isabel teased.

Felicia nodded solemnly. “The combination of physical pleasure and emotional bonding is very satisfying.”

Felicia was strange, Isabel thought, but in a good way. The woman was some kind of genius and had an interesting past that included working for the military on secret missions. That was how she’d come to Fool’s Gold in the first place—through Ford and his company. But she fit in perfectly.

Isabel supposed that was because the town was especially welcoming to those who weren’t exactly like everyone else.

Felicia looked at Consuelo and picked up her latte. “After years of you taking care of me, I finally get to ask what’s going on with you. Something is different.”

Isabel expected the pint-sized commando to threaten Felicia with bodily harm, but instead Consuelo dropped her head to her hands.

“My life’s a mess.”

“Empirically or emotionally?” Felicia asked.

“Emotionally.” Consuelo turned to Isabel. “You can’t say a word. Seriously.”

“I swear.” Isabel put down her latte and made an X over her heart.

Consuelo sighed. “It’s Kent. I’m still seeing him.”

“I thought you liked him,” Isabel said. “He’s a really great guy.”

“I know. That’s the problem. He’s so normal. Nice and smart. Reese is a great kid, and Kent is a great dad. It’s like stumbling into some perfect sitcom. I don’t belong.”

Isabel didn’t understand. “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re every guy’s fantasy. Plus, you have the tough thing going on, which is fun, but you’re secretly caring.”

Consuelo glared at her. “What did you say?”

Felicia shook her head. “We’re not supposed to notice she cares. It makes her feel vulnerable.”

Isabel wondered if she should back slowly out of the room. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Consuelo touched her arm. “My bad. Automatic response. Which is why I’m totally wrong for Kent. Have you met his family?”

“Yes,” Isabel said glumly, thinking about the tea she was going to have to share with his mother and sisters. “Many times.”

“I haven’t and I’m going to have to. They’re going to ask about my family. What am I supposed to say? That my father took off when my youngest brother was born and no one’s seen him since? Mom’s dead, as is one of my brothers. The other’s in jail. There’s a happy conversation.”

Isabel hadn’t known the details of Consuelo’s past. “That’s a lot to overcome,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t overcome it. I left. I took off and never looked back. I thought—” She shook her head. “Hell, what does it matter? It can’t work. He and I are too different.”

“You’re looking for trouble,” Felicia said, then smiled, as if pleased to have found the right cliché. “Your past has made you who you are today. Yes, you and Kent come from different places, but you have a lot in common. You’re both good with children. He’s a teacher and you teach your classes. Your students are very fond of you. You both have a strong sense of right and wrong.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Consuelo muttered.

“Is it because you were a soldier?” Isabel asked, suddenly wondering if Consuelo was simply verbalizing what Ford wouldn’t talk about. “Because of what you’ve seen or done? Is the inability to connect more about a fear of opening a door? That if the two worlds collide, something bad will happen?”

Consuelo stared at her with an expression Isabel couldn’t read.

“Don’t hurt me,” she said quickly.

“I won’t,” Consuelo told her. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been thinking about it because of Ford. There are times when I have no idea what he’s thinking. I can only guess and wonder if he’ll ever talk about what happened.”

“Not with you,” Consuelo said flatly. “He won’t want you to see it through him.”

Which made Isabel wonder what Consuelo kept hidden. “So, who do you talk to?”

“Some people don’t talk to anyone. They let it fester inside. Or eventually it works itself out.” She hesitated. “I see a counselor.”

“I’m glad,” Felicia said quietly, touching her friend’s arm.

“I don’t know if it helps,” Consuelo admitted. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m fine and other times... There’s a reason they call it the ‘ragged edge.’” She looked at Isabel. “No one can go through what Ford did and remain unaffected. War leaves scars. Some are on the inside and some are on the outside, but we all have them. Ford’s basically a good guy, but he’s still dealing.”

“Like how?” Isabel asked.