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Charm School For Cowboys
“Are you some kind of fairy godcook?” Jake asked, taking a bite of the steak. “I thought these were goners.”
She laughed. “Does wonders for my ego to hear.”
“Please, sit down,” Jake said to her. He went to the sidebar and got a plate, then cut his steak in half, split his potato and handed her the plate. “Least I can do.”
That sure was nice. “Thanks. I’m starving.”
“Hey, Jake, I thought you said no one had answered the ad for a cook since the last fake who was really one of CJ’s broken hearts,” said the eldest of the five men, the tall, large one with the unruly hair and beard.
CJ shot the older man a glare with his very blue eyes.
Jake took a bite of salad. “No one has.”
“Then where did this gorgeous creature come from?” CJ said, sliding a killer smile over to her.
She ignored the faux flattery and swiped her bite of potato in sour cream. “I’m staying with my great-aunt Essie—she owns Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen in town. Know of it?”
Jake smiled. “Know of it? We’re there half the week.”
“I work in the kitchen part-time,” she said, then took a sip of her iced tea. “But the reason I’m here is that I heard a cowboy named Joshua—Tex—works at the Full Circle. I’ve come to see him on personal business.”
Every one of the men stopped eating. Stopped talking. They looked at one another, then at her.
“Miss—ma’am,” Jake said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but Tex had an accident about three weeks ago. He didn’t survive.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
She felt Jake’s hand on her shoulder. “Miss?”
She closed her eyes and put down her fork. “Oh.” That was all she could manage.
“Was Tex a friend of yours?” another of the men asked. “I’m Grizzle. We’re the crew here at the ranch,” he added, gesturing at the guys at the table. “We all became great buddies with Tex, even though we’d only been working here together for about a week when he died.”
“I’m Hank Timber,” said the redhead with a nod at her. “The foreman at the Full Circle.” He tilted his head and stared at her. “His death left us dumbstruck too back when it happened.”
“I’m pregnant with his baby,” she blurted out. Five set of eyes stared at her, a few open jaws. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it just came out. “I’ve been looking for him ever since I found out. We met at the rodeo in Stockton in January, but then...lost touch. When I found out I was pregnant, I tried to track him down but I only knew his given name.”
“Joshua Smith,” Jake said. He had a look of reverence in his expression that told her he’d gotten close to Joshua too. Based on how close she’d felt to the guy in one night, she could imagine how these men had felt after even just a week of working long days together on a ranch.
The cowboys ate quickly, then all nodded at her, said they were “real sorry for her loss,” and practically ran from the dining room, leaving her and Jake Morrow.
The foreman, Hank, came back. “Sorry for the baby’s loss too. That’s real sad.” Then he turned back and hurried from the room.
Jake turned to her, his green eyes full of sympathy. “I own the Full Circle. That was the entire crew, including my brother CJ. He’s the one who helped me bring back the goat. Tex—Joshua—was one of the hands and we all liked him a lot. He was an old soul and wise for his age, all of twenty-seven. Even though his nickname was Tex, Grizzle referred to him as Owl.”
She found herself unable to speak again. She hadn’t even been sure what to expect when she would finally lock eyes with Joshua again and tell him she was expecting his baby. She’d been pretty sure he’d run for the hills, disappear the way he had after their one great night together. But part of her thought he wouldn’t, that he’d at least say, “Okay, this baby is my responsibility, and I don’t duck out on that.” Of course, now she’d never know.
Jake stared at her for a moment. “He talked about you.” He seemed to be remembering something, then nodded. “One morning he was preoccupied, and that wasn’t Tex’s way. He finally told us he’d sneaked out on a woman in the middle of the night without leaving his name or a number and that he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d said if he’d been a settling down guy, he would have chosen that ‘smart, interesting woman with the honey-colored hair and the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen.’ That was exactly how he put it.”
Emma did have honey-colored hair, or so Joshua had referred to it many times the night he’d run his fingers through it. And she did have big blue eyes, like her mother’s. So he must have been talking about her. She appreciated the “smart” and “interesting.” Plus the timing was right.
And now the rancher knew every detail of her failed romance with Joshua Smith.
“I’m very sorry,” Jake said again. He seemed about to say something, but then took a gulp of beer.
Now it was her turn to say “oh hell,” except the two words just kept echoing in her head. Along with Now what?
She didn’t want to leave. She still had her apartment a town over in Oak Creek, but her lease was ending this month anyway, and when she thought of Oak Creek she thought of her father and how he’d reacted when she told him she was pregnant, that she was keeping the baby and, yes, she knew who the father was but not where, exactly.
Oh for God’s sake, Emma, Reginald Hurley had said. Now you’ve really done it. A baby out of wedlock. What the hell will people think? He’d shaken his head, a few times for good measure, then had added, I’ll start a list of colleagues who might come to your rescue. Of course, most will be a bit lacking in some area or another to take on a pregnant woman. But they’ll all be solvent and ambitious. I’ll set up some dates for you and I’m sure you’ll hit it off with one of them.
She’d packed her bags and left town an hour later, feeling more alone than ever, then had settled in Blue Gulch, grateful for kind relatives nearby, sure she’d find Tex soon. Her father had called a few times, bellowing into the phone that she’d lose her window for the blind dates—once she lost her figure, forget it. She’d told her father in no uncertain terms that she would not be going on any of his husband dates and was staying in Blue Gulch, at least until she found Joshua. Appalling, he’d said. Chasing after some two-bit rodeo loser who ran off on you. That was three weeks ago. A week ago, in a kinder but still demanding, controlling tone: Emma, come home already. You’ll move in and we’ll fix up the guest room for a nursery. At least I can assure my grandchild will want for nothing. She’d forced herself to thank her dad for the offer, but had told him she was staying put.
She wasn’t going back to Oak Creek. And she couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something in how her baby’s father had lived and worked here, spent his final moment on this land, among friends, that made her want to stay. And somehow, she felt at home at the Full Circle, maybe because she’d fixed dinner and had eaten with the crew, who all seemed like nice people. And she liked this Jake Morrow, who’d told her with real sympathy in his voice that Joshua had passed away.
“Jake, I could use a job and a place to live. I could learn how to be a cowgirl, take over Joshua’s job.” Even when she was six or nine months pregnant she could certainly lead cattle out to pasture and groom the horses.
He stared at her. “You’re looking for a job?” A smile lit his face. God, he was handsome when he smiled. “What I really need is a cook for me and the guys. When you said you worked at Hurley’s, I thought I must be dreaming since I’ve been saying I need a cook for weeks and suddenly, you turn up and not only save dinner but serve the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
“Well, thank you for that. I’ve been a cook for years. Most Saturday mornings at the diner in Oak Creek I was averaging seventy-five pancakes and cracking a hundred eggs an hour. I can definitely handle five hungry cowboys.”
Relief was evident on Jake’s face. “The job comes with room and board, plus a salary.” Her eyes widened at the pay he mentioned. Three times better than her hourly wages at the diner. “This house is plenty big. I live here with CJ—our rooms are on the second floor—and there’s a third floor that will be all yours. It has a sitting area, good-sized bedroom and a bathroom with a spa tub.”
Perfect. Her aunt would be relieved that she’d found a just-right-for-her job and home. The Victorian that housed Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen was large, and only Essie and her two black lab puppies lived there but, unfortunately, Emma was allergic to dogs. Considering that Emma hadn’t sneezed once since arriving at the Full Circle, there likely wasn’t a dog around. That would be unusual for a ranch, so maybe dog allergies were something she and Jake Morrow had in common.
Jake took another sip of his beer. “The job involves serving breakfast—and these guys like their morning chow—at five sharp so we can starting chores at five thirty, fixings for a cold lunch that we can serve ourselves whenever we’re ready to take a break, and then a hot dinner at 5:30 p.m. Sound good?”
“Sounds great. I work for my aunt two days a week, just the lunch shift. This way I can keep that.” She didn’t want to give up the lunch shift at Hurley’s. The past few weeks she’d loved getting to know her great-aunt and cousins and their families. She loved the idea of raising her baby in a town where he or she would have a lot of family close by.
“Then we have ourselves a deal,” Jake said, the waning sun glinting through the window on his tanned forearms. “Start tomorrow morning?”
They shook on it, the feel of his warm, strong hand such a surprising comfort she didn’t want to let go. That was unexpected. She forced her gaze away from his kind, curious green eyes.
She wasn’t about to let herself fall for another man, no matter how seemingly kind and chivalrous when kind and chivalrous was a comfort. She was determined to make her own way, to not need anyone, to be self-sufficient and a good mother. She already knew she was a good cook. Right now, she’d spend her spare time reading her book on baby development and saving up money for onesies and bottles and diapers, not to mention a bassinet and all the other baby things her little one would need.
She could and would stand on her own two feet.
Chapter Two
Jake was wide-awake at 4:35 a.m, ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Usually he’d have to peel his eyes open and force himself out of his very comfortable king-size bed with the amazing down-filled pillows CJ had bought him last Christmas. This morning, though, well before the crack of dawn, Jake wanted to check on his new cook and make sure she was all right.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her last night. One flight up, alone in a strange house, maybe tossing and turning with the news that her baby’s father had passed away, that she was pregnant and on her own. He’d thought about going upstairs and gently knocking on her door, asking if she needed anything, if the quilt was too heavy or if she wanted a pitcher of water, but he had a feeling that he should leave her be with her thoughts. She’d come to the ranch to find her baby’s father, and Jake had dropped a bombshell on her. Twice he’d almost gotten out of bed to check on her, and twice he’d made himself stay put. He hated the idea of her by herself in her room, but Jake was practically a stranger. And her boss.
After dinner last night, she’d driven to her aunt’s house to get her bags and he’d sat outside on the porch with Redford, the only of his three cats who liked coming in the house. When her car had pulled back in an hour later, a strange relief had come over him. He still wasn’t sure what that was about. He felt responsible for her, maybe. He’d rushed over to her car to take her bags, just one suitcase and a tote, and as she walked next to him, he’d been so aware of her. Emma Hurley was tall, at least five foot nine, but there was an ethereal quality to her, despite the determination he could see clearly in her eyes. He could tell she was a strong woman.
He’d shown her around the third floor, which seemed to be to her liking. While she’d been gone, he’d stocked her shower with soap and shampoo and conditioner and hung fresh towels on the racks. Then he’d given her the tour of the rest of the house, the enormous living room with its massive stone fireplace, his office adjacent, the dining room and kitchen, both of which she was familiar with. From the living room he pointed out the two doors visible on the second-floor landing, one at each end of the long hall. His bedroom was on the left and CJ’s on the right.
Then he’d shown her around the huge kitchen, where the pots and pans were, the cooking utensils, the silverware. She’d turned down his offer of a cup of herbal tea, which his weekly house cleaner had brought over, and said she’d just like to turn in since she’d be up early in the morning.
He’d wanted to say something about Tex, that he was sorry, again, but there was something in her expression, something private, that had him just saying, Well, good night, see you at five, and heading back to his office.
Now he got out of bed, took a quick, hot shower and dressed in his work clothes, jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt and his brown boots and headed downstairs by four forty-five. Were those voices he heard coming from the kitchen or was Emma listening to the radio? The closer he got, he could swear he heard Hank’s voice. And his brother’s. And was that Golden who said he liked plain pancakes while Grizzle said pancakes without blueberries were just boring old flapjacks. The guys were never early for breakfast.
He entered the kitchen to find Golden stirring pancake batter, Grizzle washing the containers of blueberries and strawberries, and his brother cracking eggs and scrambling them in a big silver mixing bowl. Hank was frying bacon on the big griddle. And Emma, the new cook, was sitting down at the round café table by the window, sipping something from a red mug, his cat Redford at her feet.
What the heck was going on?
“Hey, Boss,” Hank said, using tongs to flip over each piece of bacon.
Emma stood up, her cheeks a bit pink, her long golden-brown ponytail swaying a bit. “I came in at four thirty to find them already cooking breakfast. They wouldn’t let me do a thing.”
“Least we can do,” Grizzle said, offering Emma a smile.
“Least,” Golden added, nodding at her, his blond bangs flopping on his forehead.
“Emma, pass me that platter, please,” CJ said without a hint of his usual flirtation in his voice.
Huh. Not only were his crew acting like actual gentlemen, including his brother, they weren’t saying stupid stuff or trying to impress her and instead insulting her with either flat-out stupidity or sexual innuendos. And after last night’s delicious dinner—even the baked potatoes tasted a thousand times better than usual—they knew they’d be in for a great breakfast this morning, but had given that up to cook themselves. Now they’d have the usual overcooked pancakes and rubbery eggs and hard-as-rocks home fries with too much pepper.
He smiled. He might not have worked very long with his crew, well, except for CJ, but he’d known the minute he’d met the say-the-wrong-thing Hank, the rough-around-the-edges Grizzle, and the can-barely-look-you-in-the eye Golden that they could be trusted, that they’d work hard, that under all the quirks were damned good men. He’d been right.
And he had a feeling he knew why the ragtag bunch was so comfortable around Emma and falling over themselves to be kind to her. Emma was not only pregnant and therefore off-limits—because none of the cowboys thought themselves remotely father material—but she’d been “done wrong” by Tex, by one of them.
“It’s good of you all to help,” Jake said to the guys. “I’ll put myself on toast duty.” He headed to the counter, where the bread boxes were full of bread and English muffins and bagels, and toasted up a couple of each, then grabbed butter and cream cheese from the refrigerator and brought it all out to the dining room. The table was already set. The silverware was in the wrong places and half the forks were upside down, which meant Golden or Grizzle had set the table. He smiled. He knew he had a great crew.
Once they were all seated, eating and drinking coffee and orange juice, Hank asked Emma if she had a name picked out for the baby.
She paused, a forkful of very well-done scrambled eggs in her hand. “Well, if she’s a girl, I’m thinking Violet after my mother. I’m not sure about a boy’s name yet.” She frowned, glancing down at her plate. “I always figured I’d name my firstborn son after my father, but—” She stopped and quickly ate her bite of eggs, then pushed the rest around on her plate with her fork.
“But your father’s in prison now?” Hank asked, slathering cream cheese on a bagel half.
Emma looked confused. “What? No. He’s not in prison. He’s...he’s just...”
“A real jerk?” Grizzle offered.
Emma bit her lip. “Well, he’s just...”
Jake glanced at her. He’s just not living up to being a namesake was what he suspected the issue was.
A phone pinged, saving Emma from answering. CJ pulled his cell out of his pocket and looked at it, then rolled his eyes and put it away.
“Who’s mad at you now?” Hank asked him with a grin. “Yesterday you were hot on Stella. Today, you’re done with her, is that right?”
“Don’t gossip about Stella,” CJ said, his blue eyes flashing. “It’s not right.”
“Whoa, what’s this?” Grizzle said, his face lighting up with a potential taunt. “CJ Morrow defending a young lady’s honor?”
“He must like this one,” Hank said.
“Stella who works at the bookstore?” Golden asked, eyeing CJ, who nodded. “She’s really nice.” He cleared his throat and looked around the table as if to see if anyone was paying attention to him. Jake had a feeling that Golden had grown up being ignored. “The other day I went to the bookstore to buy my dad a birthday present, but I couldn’t figure out what to get him. Stella asked me a bunch of questions about what he liked and suggested a biography of the first FBI director. My dad loved it.”
For Golden to pipe up, particularly to that extent, this Stella had to be nice.
Jake stared at his brother. CJ’s head was down as he pretended great interest in forking up his home fries. Interesting. Maybe his brother did like Stella—for more than the usual three days.
Talk turned to what needed doing that morning—from the usual daily chores to a fence that had to be mended up near the ridge, to moving the bulls out to a new pasture, to taking a trip into town for some supplies at the feed store. The crew had eaten their fill, but instead of getting up and heading out, leaving whoever was on cooking duty to clean up, as was the usual routine, they all started picking up their plates.
Emma stood up. “No, no! You all have done so much for me this morning and I appreciate it. I’m the cook here now and I didn’t even lift a finger this morning. So I will clean up, as I will every meal. I may be pregnant, but I’m capable of not only cooking, but lifting plates.” She smiled at them. “Go ahead. And thank you, guys. All of you. You sure know how to make a lady feel welcome.”
At that last sentence, Jake almost gasped. Grizzle actually took off his hat and held it to his chest. Hank’s chest puffed up. Golden had pink circles on his cheeks. And CJ threw an aw-shucks smile at Emma but a second later was glued to his phone as if waiting for a text that wasn’t coming.
Once the crew headed out, Jake had to force himself not to help clear the table. Emma was capable and he didn’t want to seem overly protective.
He finished his coffee. “I don’t know how you managed it, but you actually have the guys almost acting like gentlemen. They’re pretty rough around the edges—even CJ, who thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. They’re all looking for love, but they kind of repel women. Especially the ones they’re most interested in. There’s a dance tonight they’re all going to—maybe over dinner you could give them some tips on what they’re doing wrong.”
She stacked breakfast dishes along her arm. “I’ll try, but honestly, I’m O for three in the romance department myself. I mean, here I am, pregnant and single. Who am I to give advice to anyone about love?” She smiled, her pretty face lighting up for a moment, but then she paused and her expression changed as though she was thinking about something. She grabbed the butter dish with her free hand and headed toward the kitchen.
He followed with his mug, needing a refill on the strong coffee. “You got Grizzle to take off his hat indoors without even asking him to. That’s how good you are without even working at it.”
“He did, didn’t he?” She smiled again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He wanted to stay and talk to her. Ask her about her father. Ask her more about where she was from in Oak Creek, if she grew up on a ranch. But as he watched her set the dishes on the counter, the sunrise glowing past her through the sliding glass door to the kitchen, he was socked with such a pang of attraction that he backed away. What the hell was this?
Yes, Emma was pretty. And kind. And...vulnerable. Last night, Jake had found himself tossing and turning with the notion that he was responsible for Emma’s baby. Tex had been riding one of the new mares and a backfiring truck spooked the horse and threw him.
He turned away, his chest tightening with his line of thought. Maybe he wasn’t attracted so much as that he felt responsible for her. Tex had been a nice guy, his employee, and Jake felt like he owed Emma something.
Which was fine. He’d take responsibility. He’d given her a job and a home, and he’d furnish a nursery for her baby and make sure the child had everything he or she needed, including a fund started for college.
Now that he’d settled that in his head, a million other thoughts bombarded him—from livestock he wanted to buy for the ranch to Frodo the old black horse on the mend in the barn, to...his twin brother, who was walking around out there, maybe looking for him. Jake needed to talk to CJ, let him know he was thinking about getting the search started in earnest. Jake would assure his brother that nothing would ever come between them, that he’d never feel any differently, that he’d always have time for his kid brother. No matter what. Which was all true.
So why was he putting it off? CJ wasn’t that same kid who’d sobbed in his arms five years ago about losing everything. He was a man. So why was Jake so reluctant to bring up the subject again?
It wasn’t like him to be unsure of how to proceed, to not know the best way to go with something. Dammit, this thing had him out of sorts. Aware that Emma seemed to be watching him while she loaded the dishwasher, he nodded at her, thanked her again for breakfast and headed out, stopping to watch the sun rise over the ridge. He focused on it, trying to clear his mind. But just when his mind settled he started thinking about the beautiful woman in his house. He was attracted to her in a way he hadn’t been to any woman in five years.
Well, he’d have to add himself to his lineup of clueless cowboys because no matter what he told the guys about the heart wanting what it wants, he wasn’t about to heed his own.
* * *
The dishwasher full and going, the dining room table clean and the kitchen spotless, Emma glanced in the refrigerator to see what the guys would have for lunch, which was “make your own.” There were at least five pounds of sliced meats, from roast beef to ham to turkey, plus condiments and lettuce and tomatoes. Someone sure liked potato salad—there were two one-pound take-out containers from Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen. And was that a jar of pickled herring? On the counter, one of a few bread boxes was full of Kaiser rolls. Whoever did the grocery shopping knew what he was doing. The fruit bowls were picked almost clean through, so those would need replenishing. Emma would have to ask Jake if she should take on the shopping.