“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 g
uess 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.
Finding Perfect Page 3
