Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
T he next morning Tracy spent an hour with Auntie Kat, who finally agreed she had no right to join the Polar Bear Club.
“But I’m going over there today, anyway. They’re the ones who chose to have their private club meeting at a place that’s open to the public.”
“I admire your grit. You couldn’t get me into that water hole this time of year.” Tracy would love to raid Auntie Kat’s closet. Today her Valentine outfit consisted of a white sweater with red hearts down each sleeve, lipstick red jeans and white fringed boots. “Well, maybe I’d try if I wore a wetsuit.”
“That defeats the purpose. It’s called contrast therapy—improves circulation and mental clarity. You constrict your blood vessels with freezing water and expand them in a sauna.”
“They’ve put a sauna out there? They need a permit for?—”
“No sauna. Eli brings out his old Airstream and turns up the heat. But I’m not allowed in the Silver Bullet. That’s what he calls that thing. Fancies himself the reincarnation of the Lone Ranger.”
“Then how do you warm up?”
“I hop back in my Mustang and crank up the heater.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“That’s the kicker. Longer than those old boys. They got the idea from me. Since the parking area’s visible from the road they spotted my red car and came to investigate. Claimed they were concerned for my safety. They got an eyeful.”
“You were topless?”
“Oh, no.”
“So going topless is something new?”
“Right. I used to go in naked. They got the full monty.”
“Oh.”
“When they started showing up for their Polar Bear Club I put on my bottoms. My butt’s not as tight as I like but I’m proud of my girls. I do exercises to keep ’em perky. Started it during my modeling career.”
“You’re an inspiration, Auntie Kat.”
“You are, too, honey. It’s been fun watching you grow up and make something of yourself.”
“I’ve had great role models — you, Grandma Doris, my parents, Raquel and Spence.”
“Ah, Spence.” She let out a sigh. “My dear departed nephew. Bull-headed just like his dad.”
“Grandma Doris tells me stories about Grandpa Joe that make me wish I’d known him. She loved him so much.”
“I loved him, too. Joe was the best big brother a girl could have, but he set a bad example for his son. Doris and I worry about Adam, taking over as COO of the foundation and adding the mayor’s job on top of it.”
“He says his dad could do both.”
“And look what happened to him. The Bridger men work too hard, take on too much.”
“Adam loves being in charge.”
“And he’s good at it, but he’s even more of a workaholic than his father. At least Spence took breaks. If he’d given up that damn steak and eggs breakfast every morning like your folks told him to, he might still be with us. Every time I visit him and my brother at the cemetery I chew ‘em out.”
“Mom and Dad said he was a challenging patient, kept insisting that breakfast was the secret to his success.”
“Exactly what Joe used to claim. As I mentioned before, Bridger men are hard-headed.”
Tracy grinned. “I don’t think that trait’s confined to the men.”
“Oh, my darling girl.” Auntie Kat’s eyes sparkled. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
“Happy to. You keep me entertained.”
“I like to think so.” She paused. “You’ll probably laugh at this, but from the first day I saw you playing with Mila and Adam, your red pigtails flying and your contagious energy making everything more fun, I’ve fantasized that someday you and Adam would fall in love.”
Her breath caught. “Really?”
“Silly, isn’t it?”
“Not silly.” She resisted the urge to put her hand over her racing heart. “It’s sweet. I do love him. He’s a dear friend.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Don’t get me wrong. Good friends are important. But so are good lovers.” Her gaze sharpened. “You know what? I’ve put a new thought in your head. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Absolutely not.” Could Auntie Kat tell she was lying? Of course she could. “I just?—”
“I planted a seed.” She clapped her hands together. “My work here is done. I’ll be off. I need to prepare for my visit to the water hole.” Rising, she snatched up her coat and purse. “Thanks for the consultation. Send me a bill.”
“Not happening.”
“Bill me.” She shrugged into her coat and pointed a finger at her. “I can afford it.” She whisked out the door, leaving the faint scent of her pricey perfume.
But it was certainly true that she could afford to pay. She was a Bridger, a member of the most prosperous family in town, maybe in the whole county. Their history dated back to the Montana gold rush of the 1860s. Instead of mining for gold, Jeremiah Bridger had sold mining equipment.
While the miners’ incomes were uncertain, Jeremiah’s was steady. He invested his earnings in land near a scattering of buildings that ultimately became Mustang Valley. Future generations followed the financial wisdom of their forward-thinking ancestor, and the family’s fortunes had continued to grow.
The Bridger Foundation that Spence had created thirty years ago supported many projects, but the major ones were a wild horse rescue operation called Hearts & Hooves, a mobile medical unit staffed by Tracy’s parents, and a forest regeneration project.
Raquel was the CEO now and Adam was her trusty sidekick. Mila could have shared the position with him, but she’d decided to stick with Hearts & Hooves, serving as its administrator and appointing Claudette as marketing director.
Tracy opened an app on her computer and sent a note to her virtual assistant to invoice Katharine Bridger for an hour at the standard rate. She hated charging family members anything, and Auntie Kat was family.
So was Mila, who’d asked for some revisions to the adoption contract for Hearts & Hooves. It was next on her to-do list. She opened the document and set an alarm for 11:45.
Her training in contract law made her useful to the Bridgers, which was ninety percent of the reason she’d chosen it over criminal law. She’d also had her eye on becoming the Mustang Valley Town Council’s legal eagle. She’d assumed Adam would eventually run for mayor.
Her career goals had assured she’d be working with him, either for the Bridger Foundation or the town council. But that was logical, right? She liked him. They got along. Or they had, until she’d temporarily lost her mind.
Whatever had motivated her to kiss him must still be driving the bus. Was she in the same mental state as Mila had been last year? After Mila’s painful breakup, she’d quickly latched onto a guy who’d recently moved to town. What a disaster. Thank goodness he’d left.
Adam had labeled that a rebound relationship. Was it? She did a quick online search. Yep, fit the definition. And such matchups were not recommended. Looked like a person should wait a few months to a year before getting into another relationship. A year ?
But she could see the reasoning behind waiting a few months. She’d made out with Adam eight days after being dumped. No wonder he was worried about a rebound. She could be using him to sooth her battered ego. Not cool.
None of the experts recommended seducing a good friend eight days after a breakup. Instead she should be practicing self love and self analysis for a few months rather than expecting a man to make her feel better about herself.
She’d tell him that at lunch. No doubt he’d be relieved to hear she completely agreed with his opinion on the matter.