“You mean like helping me pack?” Jo asked before she could stop herself.

“Oh, child.” The other woman reached for her again. This time the hug was stronger, as if she would never let go. When she straightened, her blue eyes were filled with tears.

“Don’t you think I have things I regret in my life?” Marsha asked. “Horrible deeds, bad decisions? I lost my own child because I was too proud and stubborn. She ran away and never came back, all because of me. We each have shameful acts in our past. You were punished for yours. Don’t you think I wish someone would punish me and then say I was done? At least I would know the debt had been paid in a way that was significant to someone.”

“I don’t understand,” Jo whispered.

“No one wants you to leave. You’re one of us. An important member of this community. We love you, Jo. You are as much a part of the fabric of Fool’s Gold as any other person. I’m sorry your young man couldn’t accept your past. In time I hope you’ll see that’s his loss, rather than yours. He could have won you. What a prize. He’s too proud or too foolish to see that, but we’re not.”

Jo felt the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome. Now, put that basket away. I’m making you dinner tonight.”



“I DON’T WANT to fight with you,” Tucker said.

Nevada faced him across her threshold, torn between wanting to slam the door in his face and a desperate need to be in his arms.

“Will hurt my friend.”

“You don’t think he’s hurting, too?”

She knew there was an argument to be had, but not one either of them was going to win.

“Nevada, I miss you.”

Words that weakened her resolve. She stepped back and let him in.



“WERE YOU TEMPTED?” Tucker asked.

Nevada dug her spoon into her bowl of pistachio ice cream. Dressed only in a robe and socks, sprawled out on her sofa with a hunky, barely dressed guy after amazing sex, she felt good. Better than good. Ice cream simply moved the moment from a ten to a ten and a half.

Tucker nudged her with his foot. “I asked you a question.”

“I heard.”

“You’re not going to answer it?”

“You think you’re being funny, but you’re not. You already know the answer. You just want me to say I’d rather have sex with you than Cat.”

His grin was unrepentant. “I was hoping for more than that.”

“What? That I’d rather have sex with you than with anyone else?”

“That works.”

“It’s amazing you and your ego can both fit in the construction trailer,” she told him.

“I mostly leave it outside.”

She licked her spoon. “You know, now that you mention it, my parents always told me to try something before making up my mind about it. Maybe I should have taken Cat up on her offer. She must be great in bed. You were mesmerized by her.”

Tucker moved with lightning speed. One second she was holding her bowl, then next it was on the table and he was diving toward her, tickling her sides with his nimble fingers.

“No!” she shrieked, laughing and squirming. “Stop. Stop! I’ll be good.”

She wiggled, trying to get away, but only succeeded in shifting under him. He lay on top of her, his dark eyes bright with amusement.

“Say uncle,” he commanded.

“Kiss me,” she said instead. “That works.”

His lips were cold from his ice cream and tasted of the cookies-and-cream he’d been eating.

“Had enough?” he asked.

No, not really. She wasn’t sure there was enough where Tucker was concerned. Being with him made her happy. Really happy. Happy, as in…

She stopped short of thinking the L word, but knew it was there. Lurking.

Not that, she told herself. She couldn’t fall for him. Tucker wasn’t interested in more than a fun relationship. While she knew he’d learned the wrong lesson from Cat, she didn’t know how to help him unlearn it. The danger signs were obvious and, if she was going to save herself, she had to seriously back off.

“Can I have my ice cream now?” she asked.

“Sure.”

He kissed her again, then sat up. He pulled her into a sitting position and passed back her bowl.

“Better?” he asked.

She forced herself to take a bite and smile. “Perfect.”

But the ice cream settled uneasily in her stomach.

In an effort to distract herself, she searched for a safer topic.

“The last of the gold should be gone by Tuesday,” she said. “Once they started crating it, the process went faster than I would have thought. With the artifacts taken away, the tourists will leave, along with the archaeologists.”

“About time,” he grumbled. “It’s good that Piper Tate is damned efficient.”

“Did she scare you?”

“Some.”

She laughed. “I think she would be fun to work with. She knows what she wants and she goes for it.”

“Not always a good quality in a woman.”

She raised her eyebrows.

Tucker dug into his ice cream. “Pretend I didn’t say that out loud.”

“I will if you tell me what’s happening with Will.”

Tucker slumped back against the sofa. “Anything but that.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about how we feel.”

Tucker gave an exaggerated shudder. “You win. Will came to me a few days ago and said he wasn’t sure he wanted to transfer.”

“He’s been avoiding me.”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been yelling at him for days.”

“He was wrong.”

“You don’t know that.” Tucker wasn’t smiling anymore. “He’s entitled to what he thinks about the situation with Jo. Just because you’re okay with her past doesn’t mean he has to be.”

“You’re taking his side?”

“I’m saying you don’t get to dictate the terms of his choices.”

“All she did was tell him the truth. She didn’t want to talk about her past. She told him he wouldn’t accept it and he promised he would. Nothing changed about her, except he now has new information.”

“That makes him wrong?”

“He shouldn’t have said he would be okay with anything she told him.”

“Okay, I’ll accept that,” he said. “But just because Will doesn’t like that Jo spent years in prison, for a crime she did commit, let’s remember, doesn’t make him a bad guy.”

“Maybe,” she said, grumbling. “I don’t like it, though.”

“Neither do I,” Tucker said. “He’s unhappy, you’re unhappy. It doesn’t make for a comfortable working situation.”

This was the second good point Tucker had made in as many minutes.

“I should probably stop glaring at him,” she admitted.

“That would help.”

“It’s not professional.”

“True.”

“This is not a time to be agreeable,” she told him.

He put down his ice cream and faced her. “Jo’s your friend and you’re being loyal to her. That’s great. Will is my friend. I’m staying loyal to him. You’re right, what Jo did happened a long time ago, but it’s still relevant. He doesn’t talk much about his childhood, but I do know his dad was in and out of jail when Will was a kid. That can’t have been easy. Jo telling him about her past probably pushed some buttons.”

She hadn’t considered that. “You could be right.”

He grinned. “Let me know when you decide.”



JO FINISHED UP at the bar. It was after two in the morning. She was usually home by now, but these days she found herself working later and later.

She still couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness, but at least she’d let go the sense of impending doom. She no longer believed she was going to be run out of town at any second. Mayor Marsha’s kindness had gone a long way to dissipate her fear. Her friends were faithful and supportive. Getting over Will would be an ongoing journey, but at least she would take it to where she belonged.

She locked the front door and walked through the quiet streets to her house. The nights were colder these days. The days shorter. Fall had arrived. There was already snow on the mountains. Fool’s Gold was beautiful in every season, but she thought it was at its best in winter.

A police car drove by. The female officer waved at Jo, who waved back. Twinkling lights beckoned from the windows of Morgan’s Books. The flags that hung from the streetlights were decorated with turkeys and horns of plenty. She’d already received three different invitations for Thanksgiving.

Home, she thought, telling herself that contentment would be enough. This was home.

She turned onto her street and crossed to her house. As she walked up the path, something moved on her porch. The shadow stepped into the light and became a man.

Will.

The harsh bulb wasn’t kind. He looked as bad as she felt. Tired, drawn, sad. Or maybe that was just her mind’s way of trying to make her feel better. Maybe he wasn’t hurt at all. Maybe he was leaving and he’d just stopped by to make sure she knew she wasn’t good enough for him.

She squared her shoulders. He might have battered her heart, but he wasn’t going to break her.

She climbed the steps and stopped in front of him.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

“What more is there to say?” she asked coldly.

“You told me about your past,” he told her. “I want you to hear about mine.”

She believed in being fair, so she nodded once and unlocked the door.

When they were inside, she motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa. She stayed far away, choosing the safety of the club chair by the fireplace.

“Go ahead.”

Will had shrugged off his jacket. He wore a chambray shirt and worn jeans. His hair needed cutting and he hadn’t shaved that day. Scruffy, she thought, trying to be scornful. Only he looked good and she was painfully glad to see him.

Maybe he was going to tell her he’d been wrong, her heart whispered. Maybe he was sorry. She told herself not to hope, but it was difficult not to wish him back into caring about her.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands hanging loose. Instead of looking at her, he stared at the floor.

“My dad was one of those guys who could charm anyone,” he began, his voice low. “Women loved him, especially my mom. She would do anything for him. God, she loved him. I loved him, too, but I figured out pretty fast he wasn’t like other dads. He didn’t have a regular job. Instead he was always looking for his next chance at easy money.”

He paused, then glanced at her. “Easy money. That’s what he called it. He was too good to work for someone else. He used to say men like him were meant for better things than a factory job. If he’d put half as much effort into something that paid regularly rather than chasing the next scam, our lives would have been a whole lot better.” He cleared his throat. “He was a con artist. My father cheated honest people out of their money. He was in jail more than he was out, but he never learned, never changed. When he got out, he already had a mark in mind.”

Jo folded her arms across her chest. “That must have been difficult for you.”

“It was. I wanted to move away, to never see him again, but my mom wouldn’t listen. She loved him and was convinced one day he would change. He broke her heart over and over again with his damn promises. She always believed him, no matter what I said. I vowed I wouldn’t be like him. I would always do the right thing. And I promised myself I wouldn’t be like her. I wouldn’t allow myself to be tricked over and over again.”

She felt a chill and closed her eyes. So much for him knowing he’d been wrong. So much for any hope that they could work this out.

“I don’t believe people change,” he told her. “I saw that in my dad and with his friends. They weren’t interested in being other than what they were. Jail time didn’t do anything except give them time to plan the next con. When you told me what you’d done, I couldn’t believe it. Here I’d gone and fallen for someone just like him. I was my mother all over again.”

The unfairness of the words made her want to stand up and scream her defense. But it wouldn’t matter. Will saw what he wanted to see. It just wasn’t the whole picture.

“Only I was wrong.”

The soft words barely penetrated. She stared at him.

“I was wrong,” he repeated, straightening. “You changed. You’re not that teenager anymore. You’ve made a life for yourself here. I can see your character in everything you do. You’re not like him.” His gaze intensified. “I’m sorry, Jo. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I reacted harshly, without thinking.”