“No question about that.” She looked uncertain. “But your rehabilitation program sounds like a much bigger deal than I thought it would be. How much time would you need to be there?”

  “Not any more than I spend at the cabin now. Part of my signage would have my cell number for info and assistance. If it’s an emergency, it’s a two-minute ride over on the trail.” He rarely took that route as an adult but when he and Mandy had been buddies he’d kept it well worn.

  “But making the operation more visible will probably cause it to grow.”

  “That would be great and should bring in more donations. If I need to hire someone to staff it while I’m working here, I’ll probably have the money, but I might get some volunteers, too.”

  “So you’re not thinking of cutting back on leading trail rides?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ll put in the same hours as always at the barn, too. I’ll never give up working with horses while I can sit a saddle. The raptors are a sideline, but I feel good helping them.”

  His mother took a deep breath. “It’s a noble cause, too. Besides, I can guarantee Jo will be thrilled with your idea. But it means she could leave that much sooner if she has a buyer for the house.”

  “You know I don’t want her to leave at all.”

  “I don’t either. But if Mandy makes a strong enough case, I think Jo will move to New York even if that isn’t her first choice.”

  “Does that seem right to you?”

  “What I think doesn’t matter. If Mandy needs her there, she’ll go.”

  He’d simmered down quite a bit while planning his rehabilitation headquarters, but now his irritation with Mandy returned full force. “Then Mandy should be tickled pink if I offer to buy the house right away. She can have what she wants that much faster.”

  His mom gave him a knowing glance. “You two had a fight when you went on your ride.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t. When’re you planning to talk to Jo about buying the house?”

  “I need to check a few more things and see what interest rates are these days on a thirty-year mortgage.” He turned off the computer. “We should go feed, though, so I’ll come back to this tonight. But to answer your question, I thought I’d ask Aunt Jo if I could go over there tomorrow sometime.”

  “You don’t want to wait until after Mandy leaves? If you two aren’t getting along, that might be better.”

  “She might encourage Aunt Jo to list it while she’s here. There’s no reason to go through all that if I’m going to buy it.”

  “Jo will love that part. She wasn’t looking forward to having real estate agents and prospective buyers tramping through her house.”

  “I had a feeling.” Yep, this was the right thing to do. Aunt Jo would be happy and even Mandy should be thrilled. If she wasn’t thrilled, too bad.

  * * *

  Mandy had set aside the next morning to tackle the bathrooms and kitchen with touchup paint Luckily all three rooms were the same shade of off-white and she’d been able to match it after finding an old paint can while cleaning out the garage. She’d hit on the painting scheme after finding out that her mom intended to spend the morning sorting through boxes of pictures and photo albums. No thanks.

  She hadn’t brought painting clothes so she dug out her old jeans and a slogan t-shirt from the box of giveaways. Hard to believe that she’d once thought a tee that said Too Sexy for My Shirt was cool or that hot pink looked good on her. But for a morning of painting, the clothes were perfect. She pinned her hair on top of her head, pulled on rubber gloves and got started.

  Her mom sat in the living room with her boxes of pictures and Faith Hill on the stereo. Last time Mandy had walked through there she’d seen a wedding album lying on the sofa. Ick. Talk about a nightmare in the making.

  Her mom’s phone rang, followed by “Hi, Zane!”

  Mandy stopped painting to eavesdrop.

  “Sure, come on over.”

  Mandy squeezed her eyes shut and muttered a swear word.

  “No, no, the timing’s great. You’re not interrupting a thing. Mandy’s painting and I’m sorting pictures. I’ll put on a pot of coffee. See you soon.” Moments later her mom came into the kitchen. “In case you didn’t figure it out, Zane’s stopping by.”

  “What for?” She’d almost said what the hell for.

  “He has an idea he wants to run by me. Didn’t say what it was.” She looked at Mandy. “Why is your face all scrunched up like that?”

  “I think I got some paint in my eye.”

  “Oh! Let me –”

  “That’s okay.” She stripped off her rubber gloves. “If you’ll put the lid on the paint and stick the brush in a baggie, I’ll run into the bathroom and look in the magnifying mirror.” Maybe she could get away with staying there until Zane left.

  Dashing into the bathroom, she took inventory of her bedraggled self. She didn’t want to see Zane at all, but she certainly didn’t want to see him when she looked like this – no makeup, her hair going every which way and her clothes…ugh. But if she changed her mom would read too much into it.

  The hot pink t-shirt was snug, but it hadn’t mattered when nobody but her mother would be around to read the slogan stretched across boobs that were quite a bit larger than they’d been at thirteen. The godawful color made her skin look flushed, or maybe it was flushed because she’d soon face the man she’d mistakenly kissed with great enthusiasm.

  The decorated jeans were tight, too and she’d decided not to wear shoes. She was fine going barefoot around the house, but she didn’t care for the idea of going barefoot in front of Zane. Never mind that he’d seen her naked feet a million times when they were kids. As that moment on the ledge had demonstrated, they weren’t kids anymore.

  But all she had were her fancy boots, her mom’s that she’d borrowed to ride in and her red velvet slippers. No help, there. She splashed cool water on her face in hopes it would take some of the redness out. As she grabbed a towel, her mother went to the door and greeted Zane. He’d made excellent time.

  “You rode Jake over here!” Her mom sounded delighted. “Mandy, guess what?” she called out. “Zane took the trail over like he used to when you were kids.”

  “How about that?” She had no choice but to finish drying her face and come out of the bathroom looking pleased as punch. “Hey, Zane.”

  “Hey, Mandy.” His gaze flicked over her and he pressed his lips together as if trying not to laugh.

  After seeing herself in the mirror, she couldn’t blame him. Then, because karma was out to bite her on the butt this morning, Faith Hill launched into one of her biggest hits. As “This Kiss” poured from the stereo, Mandy’s face began to heat.

  Zane ducked his head with a muffled snort.

  “Jeez, but I hate that song.” She rushed over to the stereo and hit the off switch.

  Her mom looked startled. “Since when? You used to love it. You knew all the words and you were glued to the TV whenever the video came on. I distinctly remember you dancing around the –”

  “Sure, when I was ten. Who’s ready for coffee? I’ll get it.” With a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, she hurried into the kitchen and snatched three mugs from the cabinet. She bobbled one and had to clutch it against her chest to keep it from hitting the floor.

  “Personally, I think it’s a great song.” Zane’s voice was slightly louder than necessary, as if he wanted it to carry into the kitchen.

  “Me, too.” Her mom matched his volume. “One of my favorites.”

  As Mandy poured the coffee, she’d bet the two of them were lifting their eyebrows and shrugging as they stared at each other in bewilderment. Good job, Mandy. Way to play it cool, girlfriend.

  “I’m sorry.” She used a tray to carry all three steaming mugs into the dining area. “It really is a great song and I did love it once, but unfortunately now it stirs up some unpleasant memories.”

  “That’s a shame.” Her mom gave her a sympathetic glance.

  “I guess I’m the opposite from Mandy.” Zane pulled out a chair for her mom. “That song brings up a really nice memory.”

  “I’m glad for you.” She avoided looking at him and grabbed a chair before he could get around the table to help her. If he was referring to yesterday so he’d get a rise out of her, then he’d succeeded. If he was referring to kissing someone else in the past…yuck. She didn’t want to think about that, either.

  Her mom picked up her coffee and glanced over at Zane. “So what’s this idea of yours?”

  “It has to do with this house. I want to buy it, Aunt Jo.”

  Mandy gasped. This wasn’t happening. Any minute she’d wake up from a bizarre nightmare. Zane couldn’t buy this house. She hadn’t gotten around to picturing a new owner, but she sure as hell didn’t want this man buying her childhood home.

  “You do?” Her mom looked taken aback. “Why?”

  “To use as my headquarters for Raptors Rise. If I bought it, I could –”

  “This is a house.” Mandy’s heart raced. “Not a –”

  “Let him finish.” Her mom put a hand on her arm and gave her a stern glance. “Go on, Zane.”

  Mandy listened in dismay as he described his plans for the place she’d called home. It would no longer function as a family dwelling. He’d use one of the bedrooms as an infirmary and another as an operating room. He’d been hampered by the lack of a good indoor facility for his raptors but this would solve that problem.

  She had a sudden Alfred Hitchcock vision of birds in the bathroom, birds in the kitchen, birds perched on the back of the sofa…everywhere. She liked and respected birds, especially raptors. They were cool. But they belonged outside.

  Zane continued to lay out his dream of turning this cozy home into a…a facility. Didn’t he realize how wrong that would be?

  Apparently not. He described where he’d locate the reception area and how he’d create signage out on the main road so people could find the place. The kitchen would be handy if he decided to hold a small fundraiser here and have refreshments for potential donors.

  His voice grew more animated the longer he talked, while Mandy became sick to her stomach. Her mom wouldn’t go for this, though. She’d put a lot of work into this place so she was probably thinking of a diplomatic way to tell Zane that he was barking up the wrong tree.

  At last he finished and sat back. “What do you think?”

  Her mother smiled. Smiled. “I think it’s a fabulous idea.”

  Mandy stared at her in disbelief. “You do?”

  “Absolutely. I’d love knowing this house would be going to someone I care about who’s also making such a difference for those wild creatures.”

  Oh, God. She had zero power in this situation. The house belonged to her mom and her mom thought this travesty was an awesome concept. “But…but the house is set up for a family.”

  Her mom’s gaze was serene. “That doesn’t mean it couldn’t be converted into something a little different. Besides, if Zane buys it, I can come back here anytime I want. I couldn’t do that if a stranger takes possession.”

  “Well, I sure wouldn’t want to come back here. It’ll be totally different.”

  Her mom squeezed her arm. “Sweetie, that’s going to happen regardless of who buys it, and I’ll bet Zane can use some of the furniture so it won’t be that different.”

  And the nightmare was complete. Her mom would give him the sofa and birds would perch on it. They’d sit on the backs of the dining room chairs, too, and the oak headboard in her bedroom.

  “I wouldn’t mind having some of the furniture, Aunt Jo,” Zane said. “But I’ll pay you.”

  “Not necessary. You’re saving me time and trouble, plus a real estate commission. How soon would you like to close?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Then Mandy and I will step it up.” Her mom beamed at her. “Right?”

  She felt a cry of denial working its way up her throat. But making a scene now was a bad strategy. “I hear my phone. Excuse me.” She made a dash for her bedroom, closed the door and managed to cram a pillow against her mouth before collapsing face down on her bed. Then she yelled into the pillow until she ran out of breath.

  Flopping to her back, she stared up at the ceiling where a decorative hook was still screwed into the plaster. She’d hung a rotating disco ball from it once upon a time. Good thing it was gone now that Zane and his birds would be moving in.

  Turning her head, she looked out the window to the soft green of the pines that surrounded the house. The green and gold curtains had been part of a redecorating project she and her mom had tackled when she’d turned twelve. She’d picked out the wrought iron curtain rods on a trip to Bozeman. They’d make great bird perches, too.

  Here was the bottom line – Zane couldn’t have this house, and he certainly couldn’t have it for the purpose he had in mind. She’d have to talk him out of buying it.

  Chapter Eight

  Zane lounged in a tattered easy chair that was one of the few pieces of furniture in the one-room log cabin. He’d hoped building a fire, drinking a beer and reading a mystery would calm his nerves and make him sleepy, but it wasn’t working. Instead he kept seeing Mandy’s expression as he’d described his plans for the house this morning. She hadn’t just disliked the idea. She’d hated it.

  Despite his vow that he didn’t give a damn, her reaction bothered him. Apparently, she’d imagined a family buying the place. He didn’t know why that should matter to her but that was the only conclusion he could draw.

  The fire had died down to a bed of glowing embers. Although it was late, he considered adding another log and opening a second beer. Dropping the empty bottle in the recycling bin, he walked toward the refrigerator. He paused when someone rapped on his door.

  Could be his mom, but he doubted it. She’d text rather than show up unannounced. When he found Mandy on his front stoop bundled up in a jacket, scarf and knit wool hat, he blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  What the hell? Completely kerflummoxed, he peered past her but couldn’t see her red sedan parked next to his truck. “Where’s your car?”

  “I walked over on the path.” She held up her phone and turned on the flashlight app. “Mom’s asleep and I didn’t want her to hear me leave. Can I come in? It’s cold.”

  “Um, sure, sure.” He was having trouble processing this turn of events, but he could at least be more hospitable. “Want a beer?”

  She walked in and unwrapped the scarf. “That would be great.” She glanced around. “Guess I should have brought my own chair.”

  He grinned at the image of her hiking along the path lugging an armchair. “You can have that one. I’ll use the stool.”

  “Or I could sit on the bed.”

  “No, please. Take the chair.” He didn’t want her anywhere near the bed.

  But she was headed over there anyway. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it down, quickly followed by her scarf, hat and gloves. “Nice quilt. Looks warm.”

  “It’s wool. Won it at a church raffle.” He handed her an open beer and gestured toward his easy chair. “Have a seat.”

  “No, really, that’s your chair. I can –”

  “Mandy, please sit in the damn chair, okay?”

  “Okay, okay.” She settled into it and wiggled her butt to get comfortable. “Thanks for warming it up.”

  She was being nice. He wondered what she was up to, but decided not to be that direct. “You’re welcome.” He grabbed the three-legged stool from beside the hearth. It was left over from his childhood and he had a fondness for the workmanship. He hadn’t sat on it for years, so he lowered himself with care.

  “Is that the same stool that you –”

  “Yep.”

  She smiled. “You look cute sitting on it. Like a grownup at a kid’s tea party.”

  “Exactly what I was going for.” He gazed at her. She wore the fancy boots he’d seen that first day when he’d changed her tire, her decorated jeans from this morning, and a yellow sweater. Her favorite color. He’d forgotten that until now. She’d worn yellow a lot and maybe that’s why he started calling her Buttercup.

  “Bet you wonder why I hiked over here.”

  “The question crossed my mind. Was it fun?”

  “Spooky fun. The moon’s almost full and I love the way it peeks in and out of the trees as you walk along.”

  “That is pretty cool.” How did she survive in a big city without those encounters with nature? He’d go crazy.

  She took a quick swig of her beer before focusing on him. In this light her eyes looked more gold than green. “But coming here wasn’t just an excuse to take a nighttime walk in the woods.”

  “I figured.”

  “I’m here to ask you very nicely not to buy the house.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  She huffed out a breath. “You only came up with this idea today, so how committed can you be?”

  “I’m committed to the raptors. Expanding the program will increase my ability to help them and buying the house would be a way to do it. Simple as that.”

  “But couldn’t you add on to the cabin and accomplish the same thing?”

  He put his beer on the floor so he could concentrate on the discussion now that they were down to brass tacks. “In theory, but the cabin’s historic and I’d rather not destroy the original look of it.”

  “Okay, then another building nearby.”

  “A bigger operation might interfere with ranch business, which is our bread and butter. This is and always will be a sideline.”

  “Exactly! If you expand like you were talking about today, it could take over your life. You wouldn’t have time to lead trail rides or do your share around the barn. You’d –”

  “I’d bring in help with the raptor operation before I’d let that happen. I’ll hire somebody if the donations justify that or put out the word that I need volunteers.”