He smiled gently, then brushed her cheek with his fingers.

His gentleness, his compassion, made her throat ache.

“I wonder if we could figure out the actual odds of there being something wrong with both of us,” she said bitterly. “Is there some statistical table we could consult to find out the mathematical impossibility of our situation? It’s so unfair. Why couldn’t it just be one of our faults? I want someone to blame, even if it was me.”

He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and drew her close. “There’s no fault in any of this.”

“There should be.”

“Blaming won’t help. It’s just one of those things.”

She pressed her face into his shoulder and inhaled the familiar scent of him. Soap, fabric softener and that indefinable essence that would allow her to pick him out in a crowd, even if she was blindfolded.

“You’re so reasonable,” she whispered.

“Is that bad?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I just want to scream and pout and be unreasonable. Sometimes I think I won’t stay sane any other way.”

“You’re fine,” he assured her, then kissed her forehead.

Fine. She felt a lot of things, but none of them were fine.

A loud shriek of laughter followed by a splash made her step back. Irritation flared in her like an out-of-control bonfire.

“They’re in the water. I told them to stay out of the water, but of course they didn’t listen.”

Thad smiled. “They’re kids. It’s their job to do things like play in streams.”

“The water’s freezing. They’ll get sick.”

“They’ll dry and be fine.”

He headed toward the sounds, his steps eager, as if he wanted to be with those two children. C.J. walked the other way.

She knew it was wrong, she knew it made her heartless and cold, but she couldn’t seem to be around those children without wanting to yell at them. There was an anger festering deep inside. It fed on her like a parasite. Sometimes the rage woke her up in the night, and sometimes she was afraid.

While the cause was clear, the exorcism was not. Maybe because sometimes she thought the anger was the only thing keeping her alive. Without it, she would be completely empty. But was a life of anger and resentment any way to live? What had happened to the bright, happy, caring woman who had married Thad? When had her heart turned hard and dark? And when had she stopped caring about their future?

* * *

PHOEBE TILTED HER arm toward her to check the time, then remembered that her watch was gone, a casualty of her own citiness and the inquisitive nature of raccoons.

Zane said they were moving out in ten minutes. She figured she would hear everyone mounting up, and until then, she would keep moving.

Feeling had returned to her butt, and with it came the promise of stiffness in the night. Phoebe glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then rubbed her hands against her fanny. Unused muscles had a way of letting her know when they’d been pushed too far. She had a feeling that by the end of the week, she would have a greater appreciation for her sensible office chair back at work.

“Except I’m not returning to work,” she reminded herself aloud. “Not for another couple of weeks after I get back.”

She didn’t want to think about that so she quickened her pace. As she circled around the next cluster of trees, she saw the herd of cattle clumped together.

Maya had said there were only fifty or so, but Phoebe would have sworn there were at least twice that number. So many heads and hooves, so many colors. She would have thought steers were all brown, but these were different shades, ranging from beige to black.

A few of them glanced up when she approached, but most ignored her. Maya had complained about the smell, but Phoebe didn’t mind it. The scent was more appealing than being caught in traffic on the San Diego freeway and then rolling down her window.

She was admiring a very dark brown steer when one of the animals broke from the pack and headed toward her. The steer was big, with dark eyes, a half-bitten ear and a bell slung around its neck. She wasn’t sure if it was going to charge or anything, so she took a step back. The animal kept on coming. Before she could decide if she should run or not, it reached her.

She froze in place, part terrified, part curious. The steer seemed to look her up and down, then it sniffed the front of her shirt.

“Hey, girl,” Phoebe said tentatively. She slowly reached out her hand and lightly brushed the soft hairs above the steer’s nose. The steer snorted once, then stretched its head down to pull at the bright green grass at Phoebe’s feet.

“Huh. Are we friends now?”

The steer didn’t answer.

She decided to take the silence as a yes. “So are you enjoying the cattle drive? Do you like the exercise?”

She patted the animal’s neck, then bent down to examine the bell more closely. As she did, she happened to glance at the animal’s tummy and realized “it” wasn’t a girl. Nor was it all male.

She winced in sympathy. “That had to hurt. But I’m sure you were really young when that happened and don’t remember much.” At least she hoped he didn’t. Something told her the removal of his testicles hadn’t taken place in a vet’s office.

“This is my first time on a cattle drive,” she said. “My first time on a real horse. Rocky is really nice. Do you like horses?”

Phoebe knew it was silly to be talking to a steer, but she had to talk to someone. There was always Maya, but as most of Phoebe’s thoughts were about Zane, and her friend was his ex-stepsister, the situation was complicated.