Page 65 of Tempting as Sin
“So what did you do?”
“Ran up the mountain for a couple hours, then a few other things.”
“I keep forgetting,” she said, “that you’re here to do a job. And how much you care about it. Is it about the Oscar?”
“No,” he said. “It’s about getting better.”
Absolute conviction. If he wasn’t here, demanding that she pay attention to him? It was because he had something else to do, and it mattered. He didn’t want to take her air. That was why he took her breath. “What are you doing now?” she asked.
“More of that preparation. Which is a flash way of saying that I’m watching a Western and thinking about cooking a steak.”
“I have paperwork to do myself. Could I interest you,” she asked, setting the words down carefully, like a row of pearls, “in coming over and doing all that here? We could sit on the couch together and do our homework. Keep each other company.”
He didn’t hesitate, and he sure didn’t kick those pearls aside. He picked them up like he wanted them. “Yes,” he said. “You could.”
Which was why he was still here this morning. Hehadlearned to milk her goats, and he’d picked up on that fast, too. When she’d said something, he’d looked at her sidelong, a hint of a smile playing around his beautiful mouth, and she’d sighed and said, “Yes, thanks for refraining from the obvious. That you’re good with women.”
“A perfect opportunity to kiss you,” he said, his clever fingers still coaxing milk out of a boy-crazy little black goat who was so in tune with him, she was practically purring, begging him to touch her some more, “except that we’re in a barn.”
So that was all very nice, just like it had been nice to sit on the couch with him while he focused all that low-key energy on his movie, a faint frown on his face, and she’d worked on her spreadsheets, Chuck had snored in the corner, and she’d felt it all wrapping around her. The fall of dusk. The chill of night coming to the mountain, and the light and warmth and companionship within. Security. Contentment. Peace.
Another good night. Now, though, it was time to leave for Rafe’s trail ride, and Bailey hadn’t shown up.
“No worries,” Rafe said, interpreting Lily’s glance at her watch. “Whatever Jo thinks, I’m the client. I’ll bet I’ve already paid the feed bill for the summer. She can wait. And if Bailey isn’t here in five minutes, we’ll go down and collect her.”
“She doesn’t have to come before we leave, of course,” Lily said. “I showed her where I hide the key. It’s just that I’m wondering why.”
Chuck lifted his head and barked, and Lily looked out the door. “Never mind,” she said. “She’s here.”
When Bailey appeared, Rafe listened along with her to Lily’s list of instructions. Food in the fridge, lunch for Chuck, what was newly ripe in the garden, and where she hadn’t weeded yet. The girl’s expression was one of clear bemusement, like she’d never had somebody pay that much attention to her before, which was probably true. When Lily finished, Rafe told Bailey, “Never tell me you needed to know all that. I’m guessing you’ve read a book about gardening already and know all the names of the weeds and their seed-releasing patterns. Probably a couple books about dogs, too.”
Bailey looked at him with her usual skepticism and not quite as much wariness as the day before and said, “I read three books about dogs. It’s good to have your dog on a leash a lot at the beginning, like Lily said, because he learns that he’s supposed to listen to you. But you’re not supposed to hit him, because that just makes him scared. Ray always hit his dogs, but that’s probably because he didn’t cut their balls off. Neutering is better for dogs, this one book said, because they don’t pee in the house or run away or bite people as much. So I guess Ray should have done that instead of hitting.”
“Probably,” Rafe said, torn between smiling and wanting to punch the absent Ray. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll like. The vet told Martin yesterday that Chuck looks to be part German Shepherd—the source of the big black nose, maybe—part Golden Retriever, which may be the swimmer and the general goofiness, and part what the vet calls ‘Heinz 57 pure mutt.’ Probably some giant breed in there, he says. Wolfhound, maybe, which is another sobering thought. Chuck could be nearly a hundred pounds by the time he’s done. I may have to hunt an elk after all to feed him.”
“No,” Bailey said, “you just have to buy lots of dog food.”
“Could be,” Rafe said, “but so much less exciting. If you want to read about breeds, though, those would be a few to study. Dogs are bred for different things. I don’t think Chuck has a lot of fighter in him. Some protectiveness, though, I reckon, despite his friendly nature.”
Bailey said, “Maybe,” but sounded dubious.
“Don’t tell me,” Rafe said. “You already read about it, and correctly identified Chuck’s breed. Can’t keep up, can I. I reckon I still know more about Australia, so there’s that.”
He got an almost-giggle out of Bailey at last. “Except you weren’t exactly right about the blue-ringed octopus,” she told him. “It’s really poisonous, but it doesn’t sting on purpose, so hardly any people die from it.” She sounded disappointed about that, then more cheerful as she said, “There’s two kinds of jellyfish in Australia that are way worse, and there’s one of them you can barely even see. There can behundreds.Right where you’reswimming.”
“Irukandji,” Rafe agreed. “Yeah, that’s a nasty little bugger. If you’re stung, you probably won’t die. You’ll just wish you had. More people die of box jellyfish stings. I mention that in case you haven’t read it yet, so you can add it to your scorecard. Most venomous sea creature in the world.”
“Everybody’s most scared of sharks,” Bailey said. “But jellyfish hurt the most, and crocodiles kill as many people as sharks do in Australia. Snakes, too. And spiders. They all kill about the same amount of people. There’s a snail that’s poison, too. I read that, but I don’t see how a snail can be poison. Anyway, sharks don’t want to kill you, they just think you’re a seal. Crocodiles want to kill you, and jellyfish sting you every time if you brush against them. Snakes and spiders mostly crawl away.”
“True,” Rafe said. “There’s also a poison fish. Stonefish. You don’t want to step on a stonefish. Unfortunately, they lie on the bottom of the sea where youcanstep on them. Water shoes can be a good thing. Also stinger suits, for those jellies. And boots, if you’re on land. Very covered-up place, Aussie.”
“Australia has leeches, too,” Bailey said. “Even though they’re not poison. People used to use them for medicine, because they thought getting your blood sucked was good for you, which is weird. You can think you’re going swimming in a nice place, but when you get out of the water, there can be leeches all over your body sucking your blood. They swell way up, they drink so much blood. You have to pull them off, and you still bleed anyway, because they put something into your skin. It’s really gross. Worse than ticks.” She sounded extremely happy about it.
“Anticoagulant,” Rafe said. “Very nasty indeed.”
“I don’t swim very much,” Bailey said, “because I don’t exactly know how. Not over my head. But if there were leeches in the lake, I don’t think I’d go in at all.”
“Fair enough,” Rafe said.
