“Not exactly a plan to make me the poster child for mental health,” she said.

Manny stopped chewing long enough to gently butt his head against her arm. She took the action to mean he was offering his own version of cattle comfort.

“I appreciate you listening,” she said. “I guess this is hard for you to understand. I’ve always been looking for a place to belong, and you’ve always been where you’re a part of things.” She frowned slightly. “Do you have a family?”

She remembered then that Manny was a steer and, by definition, would not be having children. “I didn’t mean kids,” she amended quickly. “Just brothers and sisters. Parents. Do you have someone to love?”

There it was. Her big secret. What she wanted more than anything was someone to love who would love her back.

“I want to be first in someone’s life,” she whispered. “Their most important person. But so far it hasn’t happened.”

A crashing in the bushes made Phoebe straighten and turn toward the sound. More raccoons looking for accessories? No, it was too big to be a masked bandit. A bear?

Before she could decide if she should panic, or scream, or hide behind Manny, Maya stepped into the clearing. She glanced from Phoebe to the steer and raised her eyebrows.

“Talking to the animals? Is that really how you want to start your day?”

“Manny was helping me get my life back on track. We’re discussing life goals and career choices.”

Maya held up her hands. “Not before coffee, I beg you.”

“But it’s an important conversation to have. I’m twenty-seven, and all my life I’ve wanted a family. So why aren’t I married? Am I really that bad at picking guys? Is it something else? Do I feel I don’t deserve happiness, so I unconsciously pick the one guy who won’t want to commit or will be mean to me? Am I trapped in a female rescue fantasy?” She patted Manny’s neck. “I don’t think I’m a lesbian.”

Maya snorted. “You’re not a lesbian. As for picking the wrong guy, you do seem to be gifted in that department. I’m not sure why.” She shook her head. “Didn’t I say I didn’t want to have this conversation until after coffee?”

“But it’s important. I want to belong.”

“Why? Belonging is highly overrated.”

“So it’s the rescue fantasy?” Phoebe asked.

“I don’t think so. Are you waiting to be rescued? God knows I’m not. I’m plenty able to rescue myself. Besides, you’re always rescuing the world. Doesn’t that mean you’re strong?”

Did it? Or did it mean she wasn’t comfortable allowing someone to care about her? Being vulnerable meant opening herself up to hurt. Needing meant risking not getting what she wanted. Far safer to be the giver than the givee.

“You’re right,” Phoebe said. “We both need coffee.”

“And a change in subject. Come on. Zane sent me to find you and bring you back for breakfast.” She grinned. “Apparently he’s worried about you.”

“He worries about everyone,” Phoebe said, trying not to be pleased by Maya’s words. “It’s his nature.”

“That’s true. Zane would love to be in charge of the world. He gets off on bossing people around.”

“It’s not that,” Phoebe said. “He takes his responsibilities seriously.”

“Defending him again?”

Phoebe waved goodbye to Manny and started down the path. “He doesn’t need me to defend him. He’s strong enough to take care of himself.”

“Interesting.” Maya walked next to her. “So here’s this big, hunky guy who doesn’t need you to rescue him. No wonder you’re all atwitter around him. You don’t know what to do.”

Phoebe wanted to kick a rock. It figured Maya would manage to put it all together in about fifteen seconds. It was her own fault for having a smart friend.

Maya was right. If Zane didn’t need Phoebe to take care of him, what on earth would he need her for? And if he didn’t need her, why would he want her? She understood the theory that some men cared about women just because. That the women didn’t have to do anything to earn the affection. It wasn’t anything she’d ever experienced in her own life.

“Zane isn’t for me,” she said firmly.

Maya laughed. “That sounds really good, but I can’t help wondering who you’re trying to convince.”

* * *

C.J. KNELT IN the tent she shared with Thad and finished packing the few items she’d used during the night. Her brain felt foggy, probably from a lack of sleep. She’d lain awake most of the night, staring up at the tent ceiling, examining her life and not liking what she discovered. She’d also thought a lot about how to change. Was there a way to stop her downward spiral into bitterness and anger? Did any of the happy, cheerful, loving person she used to be still exist?

Despite the long hours spent in contemplation, she hadn’t come up with an answer to any of those questions, but she knew she had to keep trying to find them. She had to take a first step. Maybe that involved accepting that she and Thad were never going to have a baby. Not theirs, not someone else’s.

She knew she hadn’t accepted that truth. Not yet. She’d raged, she’d fumed, she’d plotted. She’d folded in on herself. But she’d never actually accepted it and moved on. She’d never tried to heal. She’d convinced herself that without a baby, her life wasn’t worth anything, that she wasn’t worth anything. And she’d tried to drag Thad into the abyss with her.