The Rancher's Best Gift

She pushed the door open and gestured for him to enter. Matthew felt like he was stepping into the room of a Mexican villa. The dark wooden furniture was heavy, the bed fashioned with four posts that nearly touched the ceiling. The tall headboard was intricately carved with the images of blazing suns, fighting bulls and trailing moonflowers. At the windows, thick burgundy-colored drapes were pulled to show a moonlit view of the desert mountains.

“Is that one bag all you have?” she asked.

“No. I have another case in the truck, but I don’t need to unpack it tonight.”

She nodded. “Well, just put your things wherever you like. There’s a private bath through the door over by the closet. Make yourself at home.”

He moved into the room while thinking with each step that he didn’t belong in this house with this woman. They were both too rich for his blood. But being here was Blake’s order and Matthew would bend over backwards to make the man happy. Not because he was his boss, but because Blake and his three brothers were like his blood brothers and always would be.

“Thanks. This is nice.” He placed his duffel bag on the green-and-burgundy-patterned spread, then glanced over to her. “I—uh—think I ought to tell you that it wasn’t my idea for me to stay here in the house.”

“I never imagined it was.”

Although he didn’t know why, he felt the need to further explain. “Blake sent an extra man this time. There wasn’t enough room for another bed in the bunkhouse.”

She shrugged. “No problem. You won’t bother me. And I’m gone most of the time so I shouldn’t bother you.”

Maybe not, but she sure as hell was bothering him right now. Strange how he’d not remembered her looking exactly like this. Her hair had grown and now reached the back of her waist. She was wearing some sort of loose flowing pants made of flower-printed material. The top that matched had a low V-neck, and when she turned a certain way he could see a hint of cleavage. Before she’d left Three Rivers she’d been extremely slender. Now she was voluptuous and it sure looked good on her, he thought.

“Don’t worry. The men and I have so much work to do while we’re down here that I doubt our paths will cross much.”

Her plush lips curved into something close to a smile. “Go wash up and come back to the kitchen. I’ll have something for you to eat.”

He wanted to argue with her, but he knew it would be a losing battle. And why bother? After tonight, he expected she’d leave him to see after himself.

“All right. Thanks.”

Chapter Two

Back in the kitchen, Camille opened the fridge and pulled out a ribeye steak she’d been marinating. As she heated an iron skillet and tossed in several hunks of butter, her mind spun with thoughts of Matthew Waggoner.

When had he turned into such a hunk of a man? She’d not exactly remembered him being so broad through the shoulders, his waist so trim, or his legs being that long and corded with muscles. And that blond, blond hair. He used to wear it buzzed up the sides. Now it was long and curled against the back of his neck and around his ears. But it wasn’t just the hair or the breadth and strength of his body that had caught Camille’s attention. There was something different about his rugged features. Perhaps it was the hardened glint in his gray eyes or the unyielding thrust of his jaw. Whatever it was, he looked too damned sexy for her peace of mind.

A mocking laugh trilled inside her head. Just what I thought, Camille. You weren’t really serious when you swore off men for the next ten years. You take one look at the Three Rivers foreman and you start swooning like a silly schoolgirl. Snap out of it, girl! You have nowhere else to run to!

Run? No, Camille thought as she shoved the voice right out of her head. She wasn’t going anywhere. And she wasn’t afraid of her heart or anything else getting tangled up with Matthew. She’d known the man since she was a teenager and they’d hardly been anything more than acquaintances. Nothing was different now. Nothing at all.

She was still frying the steak when Matthew returned to the kitchen. He’d not changed out of the clothes he’d been working in, but he’d knocked off most of the dust. The long sleeves were rolled up to expose thick forearms burnt to the same nut-brown color of his face. He’d left his hat behind and Camille decided he must have run wet hands through his hair. Damp tendrils fell across his forehead and tickled the tops of his ears.

Just looking at him caused a flutter in her stomach.

“Go ahead and have a seat at the table, Matthew. Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

He pulled out a chair at the end of the table and sank into it. “A beer would be nice.”

She carried a tall bottle and a glass mug over to the table and set both in front of him. “If you’re wondering if I’ve turned into a drinker, don’t worry. I mostly keep beer and wine to cook with.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything like that,” he said.

She went back over to the gas range and switched off the blaze under the steak. By now the French fries were done and she loaded a pile of them along with the steak onto a large plate, then gathered a small bowl of tossed salad from the fridge.

When she set the whole thing in front of him, he cut his gray eyes up to her. “This is overdoing it, Camille.”

Her heart was beating fast and it had nothing to do with his words and everything to do with the way he was looking at her, the way he smelled, the way his masculine presence filled up the small kitchen.

“What’s wrong? I cooked the steak too long?”

He shook his head. “This is not a part of the deal.”

“What deal? I didn’t know we had a deal?”

He made a flustered sound as he reached for the knife and fork she’d placed next to his plate. “I’m not your guest. I’m here to work cattle.”

“You don’t have to tell me why you’re here, Matthew.” She left the table and walked over to the cabinets. “You’ve been doing this for years.”

Yes, fourteen years to be exact. When Matthew had first gone to work for Three Rivers Ranch, Joel had brought him and four other hands down here to Red Bluff. The work had been exhausting, but the special time working closely with Joel had changed Matthew’s life. He’d found the father he’d always needed and the home he’d never had.

She plunked a bottle of salad dressing along with a pair of salt and pepper shakers in front of him. “You want any ketchup or steak sauce?”

Her question pulled him out of his memories and with a tired sigh, he pulled the plate toward him. “No, thanks. This is good.”

Once he started to eat, he thought she might leave the kitchen and go on about her business. Instead, she pulled out the chair angled to his right elbow.

“Looks like Blake sent plenty of cattle this time. I saw the extra pens.”

He glanced at her. “He’s been on a buying spree. When prices drop, your brother takes advantage.”

She smiled wanly. “Blake always did know how to turn a profit.”

The steak melted in his mouth, a fact that surprised Matthew. He would’ve never guessed Camille could do much in the kitchen. Reeva had ruled as the Three Rivers house cook for long before Camille had been born and the woman wasn’t the sort who wanted to share the domain.

“I guess you’ve taken to living here on Red Bluff,” he said. “You’ve been gone from Three Rivers for a long time.”

She slanted him a shrewd look. “Did my family send you on a fishing expedition?”

He chewed another bite of steak before he answered. “That’s funny. But I’m too tired to laugh.”

“What’s funny about it? You’re a part of the family. You know as well as I do that they’re trying to figure me out—or come up with a way to get me back to Three Rivers.”

He glanced over to see a smirk on her face, but whether her ire was directed at him or her family he couldn’t guess.

“I didn’t ask you anything,” he said. “I only made an observation. Guess the subject of you living here on Red Bluff is a prickly one.”

“You know it is.”

Deciding it took too much energy to talk to this woman, he focused on finishing the food on his plate.

Quietness settled around them until she spoke again. “Sorry, Matthew. I didn’t mean to sound so—defensive. It’s just that I’m beyond weary of answering my family’s questions. They can’t accept that I want to live here and leave it at that.”

“They think you’re still pining over that Danby guy and that makes them worry about you.”

Her lips pressed to a thin line. “For your information and theirs, Graham Danby is a thing of the past,” she said firmly. “I’m perfectly happy living single and I have no interest in the male population in Yavapai County, or here in Cochise County, or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Okay.”

His simple response didn’t ease the frown on her face.

She said, “Since my personal life seems to be fair game, maybe it’s time I asked you a few questions. Like have you ever gotten over your failed marriage with Renee?”

Although he was stunned that she’d brought up the subject of his divorce, he realized he couldn’t tell her to mind her own business. Not without looking like an ass.

“Renee who?”

She snorted. “You can’t fool me, Matthew. That was what—at least ten years ago and you’ve never remarried. You’re either still crazy in love with the woman or too scared to try marriage again.”

He stabbed his fork into the fries. “Your first assumption is dead wrong. Your second one is not exactly right, either.”

Her vivid blue eyes continued to peruse his face, and Matthew wondered what she was looking for. A sign of weakness? A crack in his armor? Well, if anyone could find it, she could.

He said, “I’ll admit that when Renee and I divorced it knocked me off my feet.”

“It shouldn’t have,” she said bluntly. “I could’ve told you before you ever married her that she was all fluff.”

He scowled at her. “How would you know that? You were only a teenager back then.”

“A girl doesn’t have to reach the age of twenty before she learns how to spot a female piranha.”

He grunted. “Men are slow learners.”

A faint smile touched her face. “The last I heard you were dating a redhead from Yarnell. Are you getting serious about her?”

“No. I haven’t seen her in more than a year. And I’m not planning on getting serious about anyone. I’m going to leave marriage up to you and Vivian, and your brothers.”

Her face went void. “Leave me off that list, Matthew. The chance of me ever marrying is as about as good as snow falling here on Red Bluff. And that’ll be a cold day in hell.”

The bitterness in Camille’s voice matched the feelings he’d carried around inside him for all these years. He understood the humiliation she’d gone through when Danby had chosen another woman over her. He’d felt that same sting when Renee had left him high and dry.

“So what do you do with yourself now?” he asked. “I imagine it’s awfully quiet around here when the ranch hands aren’t around.”

Faint surprise arched one of her delicate brows. “You mean none of the family has mentioned my job to you? That’s a shocker.”

He shook his head. “No. You found an office job over in Benson or Tucson?”

Rolling her eyes, she got up from the table and walked over to the cabinets located directly behind him.

“Lord no! I’d have to be starving to death before I ever work in an office again.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see she was filling a coffeemaker with grounds and water.

“Why? That is the reason you went to college,” he stated the obvious. “What are you going to do? Let all that education go to waste?”

He didn’t know why he’d let himself be sucked into such a personal conversation with this woman. Maybe because in the quieter moments of his life, he’d often thought of her and hoped she was happy.

With the coffee dripping, she walked back over to the table and took her seat. “No. That isn’t why I went to college. I worked to get my degree in business management because that’s what Daddy wanted for me and I promised him I would.”

“He died shortly after you graduated high school. He would’ve never known if you’d chosen to take a different path.”

“Maybe not. But I would have known it. I made a promise to him and I wasn’t about to break it.”

Her loyalty to her father didn’t surprise Matthew. Even though Camille had never been the cowgirl that her mother and sister were, she’d been very close to Joel, and he to her. Perhaps because she was the baby of the family, or perhaps it was the fact that she was so different from Vivian that Joel had been extra protective of his youngest.

“So if you don’t have an office job, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m a cook in a diner over by Dragoon.”

Hearing she’d been hired on as a cook was almost too much for his tired brain to register. “The population can’t be three hundred there. I wasn’t aware it had an eating place. I only remember it having a few houses and old buildings.”

“It’s there. Not far from the interstate. Lots of folks from Wilcox traveling through to Benson and Tucson stop to eat. The building isn’t much to look at and we mostly just have short orders, but the customers seem to enjoy it and I love working there.”

The moment she’d started to talk about her job, the taut expression on her face had relaxed.

“To tell you the truth, Camille, I didn’t even know you could cook until tonight.” He gestured to his empty plate. “By the way, it was delicious.”

“Thanks. That’s what I like to hear.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms across her breasts. “I think Mom regrets that Reeva allowed me to help her in the kitchen. I probably don’t have to tell you that she expects more out of me than being a cook.”

“Why? Because you’re a Hollister?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah,” he said after a moment of thought. “It’s a lot to live up to.”

She smiled and the expression on her face was suddenly sunny and sweet and exactly the way he remembered her when he’d first come to Three Rivers. The sight sent a poignant pang rifling through him and he hated himself for being so sentimental. Especially with Camille. Of all the Hollister siblings, she’d often been more of a rebel than Holt.

She said, “I actually think you understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m not a Hollister, but Joel always expected a lot from me. More than I thought I was capable of. It was never easy trying to live up to the expectations he had of me. I tried. But I honestly don’t know if it was ever enough.”

“It was more than enough. You were like a son to him.”

Hearing those words from Camille twisted something deep inside him, and he wondered why seeing her again was bringing up thoughts he’d tried so hard to keep in the past.

She picked up his empty plate and carried it over to the sink. While she was gone, Matthew rubbed both hands over his face. These next two weeks were going to be even longer than he’d first imagined, he thought. And he was wondering just how early he’d need to get up in the morning to avoid running into her before he left the house. Or how late he would need to stay out at night until she went to bed.

Her fragrance drifted to him and he dropped his hands to see she’d returned to the table with a small plate of chocolate pie and a cup of coffee.

“I realize you’re tired, but I thought you might like dessert.”

“Did you make this?” he asked.

She gave him a half smile. “Yes. I bake pies for the diner, too. They’re a big hit with the customers, so the owner pays me extra for doing it.”

She’s simply staying on Red Bluff until she gets her head on straight.

Blake couldn’t be more wrong, Matthew thought as the man’s remark came back to him. Camille didn’t look or sound like she was suffering a broken heart. In fact, she appeared to be content. If the Hollisters were expecting her to return to Three Rivers to cry on their shoulders, they were all in for a rude surprise.

“This is very good,” he said after he’d taken the first bite. “It tastes like Reeva’s.”

“Thanks. That’s the best compliment you could’ve given me.”

“Are you not having any?”

“No. I’ve already eaten my quota of sweets for today.”

She propped her elbows on the table and rested folded hands beneath her chin. “So, what’s been happening at Three Rivers lately? Mom mostly keeps me informed, but I think she purposely avoids talking about certain things.”

“Like what?”

“Like my brothers’ and sister’s babies. She thinks hearing about them makes me sad because I don’t have any.” She moved her head back and forth. “And I guess in a way, it does. But if I’m meant to have children I’ll have them in due time.”

She had the frankness of her mother and the practicality of her father, Matthew thought. Together, she was unlike any of her siblings.

“All the children are fine and it won’t be long until Holt’s baby arrives. It’s going to be strange to hear him called Daddy.”

“I’m very happy for him. And Isabelle is wonderful. She’s the perfect match for him,” she said, then gave him a long, pointed look. “So, what about my brothers and their search into Dad’s death?”

Matthew shook his head. “You know about that?”

“Mom and my brothers don’t talk to me about it, but Vivian does. She says Mom clams up if she asks her anything about it and our brothers are obsessed with the subject.”

“What do you think?” he asked curiously. “That they should continue to search for answers or leave the whole thing be?”

Sighing, she closed her eyes, and Matthew used the moment to study her face. She’d always had beautiful features but now they held a maturity that made her even more attractive. All he could think was how stupid Graham Danby had been to ask for his engagement ring back and how lucky Camille was that he had.

“Answers would be good, I suppose,” she finally said. “But in the end it won’t bring Daddy back. That’s harder for me to live with than the not knowing.”

“Your brothers want justice.”

“Don’t you mean vengeance?”

“Maybe. I’d definitely like to serve up a little vengeance of my own.”

He rose from the chair and picked up the dirty dessert plate along with his cup. “Thanks for the meal, Camille. I really need to get to bed. The men are going to be saddled up by five thirty. That’s going to come pretty early.”

Nodding, she rose along with him and reached for the dishes in his hands. “I’ll take care of those. You go on.”

He started out of the room, then paused at the doorway to look back at her. “Camille, from now on you really need to let me fend for myself.”

The faint smile on her face said it didn’t matter what he said. Ultimately she’d do whatever she wanted to do.

“Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Camille.”

The next morning at the diner in Dragoon, Camille slid a stack of pancakes and a pair of over-easy eggs onto a warm plate, placed it on a tall counter and slapped a bell to alert Peggy that the order was ready.

The waitress immediately snatched up the plate and hurried away. Camille reached for the next order and recognized with a sigh of relief there wasn’t a next order. For the moment she was caught up.

“Wow! What a run. I haven’t had time to draw in a good breath!” Peggy exclaimed as she pushed through the swinging door and into the small kitchen. “Where are all of these people coming from?”

Camille sank onto a wooden stool and looked over at the tall woman with a messy black bun pinned to the top of her head. In her early thirties, with big brown eyes and a wide smile that hid all kinds of disappointments in her life, Peggy had become a dear friend to Camille.

“The few times I glanced out to the dining area, I didn’t spot one familiar face. They must all be travelers.”

“Hmm, good thing, I guess. If we had to depend on customers from Dragoon, we might as well close up the doors.” She looked over at Camille and shook her head. “Honey, I’ll never understand why you’re wasting yourself in this lonely little spot in the desert.”

She smiled wanly at her friend. “Because I like this little lonely spot in the desert. I’ve tried the big city thing. The traffic and hustle and bustle. The business suits and high heels. Yes, I made a nice salary, but it wasn’t worth it to me.”

Peggy tightened the bobby pins holding her bun. “Hmm. I wouldn’t mind trying it someday. Just to see what it was like to live in a house that wasn’t filled with dust and to smell like a woman instead of burnt coffee and cooking grease.”

“Who cares about dust?” Camille retorted. “And if men were honest, most of them would say they’d rather have a woman who smelled like food instead of flowers.”

“And who around here wants a man?” Peggy asked with a cynical laugh. “I certainly don’t! And even if I did, the single male population around here is darned scarce.”

Camille thoughtfully regarded her friend. If Peggy took more pains with her appearance, she’d be a knockout. But makeup or a hairdo wouldn’t take the jaded shadows from her eyes. Only deep-down happiness could do that.

“So it is, but that doesn’t mean you should stop looking. You’ve told me before how much you’d like a child of your own,” Camille reasoned. “You can’t very well make one without a man.”

Peggy slanted her a tired look. “There’s always a fertility clinic.”

Camille couldn’t believe her friend would actually go to that length to have a baby on her own. “Are you saying you’re ready to do that?”

Peggy shrugged. “Wouldn’t that be better than putting up with a creep who spouts words of love, then cheats every chance he gets?”

From what Peggy had told her, she’d been engaged once, but the guy had turned out to be a verbal abuser and she’d dumped him before the wedding plans could get started. After that misjudgment, she’d married a car salesman from Tucson, but a week after they’d gotten back from their honeymoon, he’d cheated on her. Given the briefness of the marriage, she’d gotten an annulment. Now she looked at men as though they all had horns and a forked tongue.

“Peggy, there’s a good man out there just waiting for you to find him.”

Peggy’s short laugh was mocking. “Coming from you, Camille, that’s very funny. A beauty like you, hiding yourself away.” She pushed away from the work counter and started out of the kitchen, only to pause at the swinging doors. “By the way, what are you doing tonight? I thought I’d drive over to Benson and try to find something to wear to Gideon’s Halloween party. Wanta come?”

“Gideon is having a party?”

Gideon was a seventy-five year old war veteran and widower who bussed the tables here at the diner. He was a happy-go-lucky guy, but Camille couldn’t picture him throwing a Halloween party.

“His grandchildren are coming to visit and he wants to do something special for them, so I’ve offered to lend him a hand.”

Any other time, Camille would have given her friend a quick yes. But she hated to think of Matthew dragging himself in tonight, exhausted and hungry, and her not being there to take care of him.

What the heck are you thinking, Camille? Matthew isn’t your man. He’s a grown man who’s lived alone for years. He doesn’t need you or anyone to take care of him!

The sardonic voice going off in her head couldn’t have been more right, Camille thought. She’d be more than stupid to start planning her life around Matthew. In two weeks he’d be gone back to Three Rivers and she wouldn’t see him again until next year. On the other hand, if she did want to spend any time with the foreman, she needed to make the most of the next fourteen days while he and the roundup crew were at Red Bluff.

Rising from the stool, she picked up a spatula. As she scraped grease and meat particles from the flat grill, she said, “Thanks for asking, Peggy, but the crew from Three Rivers is at Red Bluff now and I feel like I need to be there.”