The Cowboy's Lady

“If I don’t hear anything in the next week or so, I’ll have to make a decision about getting the police in Florida involved,” Zach said, heaving a heavy sigh.

Vivienne wished she knew what to do to help her brother and Lucas. Zach had always been the one to take care of her and Brooke. Their father, distracted by work and the ongoing feud with his uncle Samuel’s side of the family, was an absent father. And when he died in a car accident that also killed his brother—their uncle Vern—Zach had taken the role of protector to Vivienne and Brooke. It had made him older than his years, but it had also brought the three very close.

“Should I take this job then?” she asked, suddenly concerned. “Or should I stay around to help find Lucas?”

Zach gave her a tight smile and shook his head. “There’s not much any of us can do, sis. So just go and work. We’ll keep you informed.”

“I can come back whenever you need me,” she said. She suspected that Cody Jameson might not mind if she decided to quit. He seemed reluctant enough to hire her.

Zach patted her shoulder. “We’ll keep in touch. Cook good at that ranch and make us Claytons proud,” he said, giving her a quick, hard hug.

The various paraphernalia of his police belt dug into her waist as she hugged him back, its heft and weight a grim reminder of Zach’s ongoing responsibilities as deputy sheriff of the town.

Then he strode back to his car and was gone.

Vivienne watched him go, then turned to her sister and Gabe. “I should leave, as well.” She hugged her sister and gave A.J.’s cheek a quick stroke. “Love you, little guy.”

“You’ll stay in touch?” Brooke asked, shifting A.J. to her other hip like a seasoned mother. She had grown up quickly in the past few months, Vivienne thought. Her little sister no longer.

“I’ll be back for groceries sometime or other,” Vivienne assured her. “I’ll contact you then. Find out what’s happening with Mei and Lucas.”

Brooke gave her another hug, Gabe flashed her a quick smile, and then Vivienne was in her car and pulling away from the curb. In her rearview mirror, she saw Gabe drop his arm around Brooke’s shoulder and pull her close. The domestic scene tugged at her heart, and again Vivienne felt a surge of envy blended with joy for her sister’s happiness.

Would she ever find what Brooke and Gabe seemed to have?

Chapter Three

“Where are you going?” Cody called out to his newest hired hand, Bryce, as he walked toward the cookhouse. “Your horse needs to be brushed yet.”

The young boy turned and then dropped his gloved hands on his narrow hips, brown hair hanging in his eyes. “I’m beat. I’m hungry and tired from riding all day. My horse is fine.”

And with that he spun around, skinny arms pumping as he ran off.

Cody pressed his lips together, sending up a quick prayer for patience, which was immediately followed by guilt. Lately his prayers were the “Help me, help me” kind sent up in a rush between getting the horses ready for the roundup, getting the last batches of hay hauled and trying to keep his sister from driving him crazy. He hadn’t had time for proper devotions in weeks. He just prayed God understood.

Cody sighed as he dismounted, his own legs stiff from riding all day. He should insist the boy do things the right way, but he was new and Cody didn’t have the energy to follow through.

Not after spending almost twelve hours in the saddle sorting through the first batch of cows and calves and getting them ready to move in a couple of weeks.

“Why’s Bryce heading for grub?” Ted grunted as he swung his leg over the saddle. “Didn’t see him brush his horse down.”

“He says he’s tired.”

“Aren’t we all? And you’ve been working since five o’clock. Kid needs an attitude adjustment.”

“He’s willing to live out here for ten days at a time, so I put up with him.” Cody led his and Bryce’s horse to the tack shed, the slow thud of the horses’ hooves telegraphing their own weariness.

“And hang out with spineless Les Clayton and that no-account Billy Dean Harris when he’s not working.”

Which made Cody think of another Clayton now inhabiting the place. Vivienne had come to the ranch last night, dragging enough suitcases to outfit every woman in town. But he hadn’t had time to talk to her. Instead he got Cade, her cousin on the other side of the Clayton family, to help her.

“As long as Bryce is working for me when he’s here, I can’t tell him who to hang out with,” Cody replied.

“Food smells good,” Ted exalted as he pulled the halter off his horse. “Wonder what Vivienne whipped up for supper. Bet it’s a whole lot better than grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“She better not be making some fancy stuff we can’t choke down” was all Cody said, jerking on the saddle’s cinch. He still felt like he’d been railroaded into hiring Vivienne. And Ted’s constant singing of her praises all day didn’t help either. It was annoying.

“Didn’t see you for breakfast.” Uncle Ted let his horse spit out the bit and hung the bridle over his arm. “You weren’t hungry?”

“Had things to do.”

“Seems to me like you’re avoiding our new cook,” he said with a knowing grin.

Cody heaved the saddle off the horse and moved to Bryce’s. “You know how busy I am.”

“You’ve got to learn to delegate more. Life isn’t just work. And now there’s a pretty new cook on the ranch.” He winked. “And I heard she’s single. You might want to make time for her.”

Cody didn’t bother responding to Uncle Ted’s blatant comments. In the distance a coyote sent up a lonely shivering wail into the cool evening air. But he heard no replying howl.

“It’s been almost four years since Tabitha,” his uncle said, his voice quiet.

Cody clenched the brush, knowing exactly where Ted was heading.

“You’ve been pushing yourself since then, working every hour of the day, going nonstop.” Ted kept his voice low, as if he knew he had to approach this subject with caution. “Tabitha is gone, and you can’t change that.”

Cody walked over to Bryce’s horse and started brushing him but said nothing. He didn’t want to talk about his former wife. Though he missed Tabitha, her betrayal had hurt him more than her passing had. They’d been drifting apart for months before she took off from the ranch.

“So now Vivienne Clayton is cooking here,” the older rancher continued, “and I think that’s a good thing.”

Cody snapped his head around, glaring at his uncle. He should have known his partner wasn’t trying to be sympathetic and understanding. Should have known that Uncle Ted always, always had a plan.

“I only hired her ‘cause I had no choice, thanks to you,” Cody said, wanting to stop Ted mid-matchmaking. “As for her cooking here, she’s a Clayton, and she’s only hanging around long enough to collect the money that old miser George left her. Once that happens, she’s back to New York where she belongs, far as I know. I would be surprised if she sticks it out here longer than a week.” He stopped, realizing how defensive he sounded.

Ted led his horse to the corral. “Why don’t you like her? I heard you two were an item a time back,” he called out over the screeching of the opening gate.

That Ted. He just never let up.

“We were never an item.” Cody’s movements were brisk as he finished brushing off Bryce’s horse.

“But I thought—”

“Look, Uncle Ted, you’re my partner, not my life coach.” As soon as he spoke the words, Cody wished he could take them back. It was thanks to his uncle he even had a stake in the Circle C. Uncle Ted had only one daughter, Karlee, who had no interest in ranching and lived in town. Ted had taken Cody in during the many trips his missionary parents made overseas and instilled in him a love of the land and a love of ranching.

One of Cody’s first memories was of Ted helping him onto a horse and leading him around the corral.

His uncle knew more about Cody than even his parents did. He knew Cody had a “thing” once upon a time for Vivienne Clayton. Ted just didn’t know how flatly Vivienne had turned him down. Cody had been too humiliated to give those details out and had let Ted believe something was brewing with him and “that gorgeous Clayton gal,” as Ted insisted on calling her.

“I’m sorry,” Cody said quietly, staring over the back of the horse at the darkening sky, unable to meet Ted’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, well, I’ve got Bonnie driving me crazy with wanting to move closer to the center of town and we’ve the gather to take care of and hay to haul …” He let the sentence drift off. Too much to deal with. Too much to think about.

“It’s okay.” Ted untied Cody’s horse and led him to the corral, as well. “I get it.”

“I hope you do,” Cody said quietly. “Vivienne Clayton is just the cook here. Nothing else.”

“Sure. Of course.”

“She’s a city girl and always will be now.” Just like Tabitha was.

“Yup. I hear ya.”

Cody shot his uncle a warning glance as he put Bryce’s horse away, but Ted was already through the gate, obviously lured on by the mouth-watering smells drifting from the cookhouse. “You coming?” Ted called over his shoulder.

“Yeah. In a bit.” Reluctance kept him back, watching the horses rolling in the dirt, grunting with satisfaction as their legs flailed awkwardly in the air.

His stomach rumbled and he knew he couldn’t put off going to the cookhouse any longer.

Trouble was, Uncle Ted had hit on a nerve.

Vivienne Clayton looked as beautiful as he remembered, and in spite of what he’d had to deal with, she still held a certain fascination.

You’re older, wiser. She was just a high school crush.

He straightened his shoulders, told himself to man up and followed his uncle across the yard.

But before he could get into the cookhouse, the door slammed open and one of his hired hands, Dover, stormed down the stairs, grumbling as he went.

“What’s the matter?” Cody asked, catching his arm as he passed him.

Dover glared at the cookhouse then dropped his hat back on his balding head. “I’m starving.”

“Didn’t you just eat?”

“If you want to call that eating,” Dover returned, hitching his belt up over his protruding stomach. “Have to fill up on those lousy energy bars you got us a while back.”

And before Cody could ask him more, Dover was gone, his short, stubby legs pounding the dusty ground between the cookhouse and the bunkhouse.

Cody stepped into the cookhouse to the sound of grumbling and his heart dropped as a couple of the hands stared at him, looking as grumpy as Dover had.

Bryce sat at the table, frowning at his plate, Cade beside him poking something around on his plate. Even Ted, who had been so enthusiastic about hiring Vivienne, was looking at Bryce’s food with a puzzled expression.

Not again, he thought with a feeling of inevitability.

He sent up another prayer for an extra dose of energy and pushed open the door to the kitchen.

Vivienne stood with her back to him, stirring something, her silly cook’s hat crooked on her head.

Bowls, plates, pots and utensils covered every square inch of counter and even the butcher block table behind her. Even Stimpy Stevens, the cook who dipped a little too deeply into the cooking sherry, never made the kitchen this messy.

He was about to speak up when his little sister came out of the adjoining pantry carrying a bag of flour.

“Put the flour bag on the floor,” Vivienne said. “I’ll take care of it. For now, bring those plates of food out to your uncle Ted and your brother.”

As Bonnie set the flour down, Cody stifled a sigh. He thought her makeup was bad before. Today her lips were a bright crimson slash on a face adorned with pancake makeup. Her eyes were ringed with black and deep brown. She looked like a raccoon.

Obviously she had found the makeup he thought he had hidden.

“What in the world is going on here?” he called out, his voice coming out louder than he intended.

Vivienne spun around and her cheeks flamed red. Then she straightened, brushing her hands over her apron.

“Why are you here?” He pointed at Bonnie. “Why aren’t you up at the house?”

Bonnie lifted her chin and Cody saw that defiant look take over her face as she grabbed a plate of food. “Vivienne needed help cooking and serving.”

Which brought him to his original reason for coming here. Trouble was, he didn’t know what to deal with first.

“Right now, Ms. Clayton and I need to talk and you need to go back to the house and wash your face.”

Bonnie pressed her red lips together. “I’m not a little girl.”

“Not the way you look,” he concurred. He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “To the house. When I come back there, I want all that goop cleaned off your face.”

She pursed her crimson lips and shot a quick glance at Vivienne, as if looking for help.

“Get your uncle Ted his dinner and dessert, and then you can go,” Vivienne said quietly, and Bonnie left.

Which, in turn, made Cody feel as if he couldn’t handle Bonnie on his own. Which made him feel even more frustrated. He knew he was being cranky and blamed it on a long day in the saddle and too many things weighing on his mind.

One of which was an uncle and partner spouting dumb ideas about the woman standing in front of him, her blond hair falling in loose wisps around her flushed face.

She looked as beautiful as she had in high school. More beautiful, if that was possible.

He shook his head to dislodge that thought. He had more important things to deal with.

When the kitchen door fell shut behind his little sister, he turned back to his cook. Belatedly he pulled his hat off and released his breath on a heavy sigh.

He couldn’t help but be distracted by her looks. By her presence.

How was he supposed to do this?

Chapter Four

The kitchen was a decent size, but somehow Cody’s presence dominated the room. And as he glanced around at the pots, pans, dishes and bowls strewn over every available working space, she tried not to squirm.

Here it comes, Vivienne thought, a prickling dread working its way through her veins. Another failure.

“What is it?” Vivienne wiped her hands on her apron, then clasped them in front of her.

Cody gave her a curt nod of recognition as he slapped his hat against his leg. His blue jeans were coated in dust, as was his loose jacket, and his damp hair was plastered to his head. He looked rough and rugged.

And oddly appealing.

Vivienne wanted to give herself a shake. You’re about to lose a job, and you’re making eyes at the man who’s going to fire you?

She straightened, determined to hold her head up in the face of whatever criticism was coming.

Cody scratched his one eyebrow with a forefinger and sighed. In that moment, Vivienne caught a look of utter weariness fall across his features. He looks exhausted, she thought with a flicker of compassion. Then his features tightened, his eyes narrowed and the moment fled.

“So what’s for dinner?” he asked her.

“Cornish game hens and savory stuffing balls with chocolate mousse for dessert.” Why had it sounded like such a good idea when she was making up the menu and so oddball now that she was saying it out loud to Cody?

Cody’s frown told her exactly what he thought of that menu as he glanced around the kitchen. For a moment she saw it through his eyes. Saw the pots, pans, dishes and bowls spread over every available working space, and she struggled to stay composed.

“I usually keep my kitchen cleaner than this,” she said, clenching her hands tighter to stop herself from fussing and tidying. “But I’m also used to having a couple of assistants.”

“Is that why you got Bonnie to help?”

“She volunteered,” Vivienne said in her defense, knowing exactly how Cody felt about Bonnie hanging around her.

“Stimpy didn’t need help.”

“And he was fired because he was careless,” she retorted.

As were you.

She stifled the accusing thoughts. That was different.

Was it? Careless is careless.

“So why do you need help?”

She gestured around the kitchen. “I think this speaks for itself.” She felt tired just looking at all the work ahead of her.

“I’m sure it would be easier if you made simpler food.”

“Grilled cheese sandwiches is simple food.” The retort came out before she could stop it. “I thought I would give the men something tasty.”

“I don’t know how tasty they thought it was,” he said with a frown. “All I’ve heard was grumbling. Beans and biscuits would have been a better idea than what you dished up tonight.”

Each word was like a blow to her own self-worth. Had she really lost her touch? Was she really such a failure as a chef that she couldn’t even please cowboys?

“I said to keep it simple,” Cody continued.

She rolled her eyes. “What I made wasn’t that complicated.”

“Savory stuffing balls for hungry hands? Seriously?”

Her cheeks tightened at his mockery. “Sorry, I’ll try to dumb down the menu.” As soon as she spoke she realized how brusque that came out.

“It’s just food, Miss Clayton,” he retorted. “Fuel for the body.”

All her training and years of work rebelled against this blunt comment. “Food is more than that. It’s enjoyment. It’s one of life’s pleasures. It’s … it’s …” Her He r outrage at his ridiculous comment left her stumbling around trying to find how to explain how wrong he was.

“Food is calories,” he said, cutting into her explanation. “Just make sure you give my men enough calories to do their job.”

“Calories can still taste good.” Vivienne tried to keep the prim note out of her voice but could tell from his raised eyebrow she hadn’t succeeded. She realized she was butting against a brick wall. For now. “But I’ll still need help even if I’m dumbing down the menu.”

This netted her a heavy sigh. Cody ran his hand over his face and glanced around the cookhouse. “I can’t spare any of the hands. I suppose I could talk to Delores, Grady’s wife.”

Grady, she understood, was one of the few married men who lived in a rented house on the ranch. “Delores has made it pretty clear she’s not stepping foot in the kitchen again,” Vivienne stated. “Which leaves me with Bonnie.”

Cody’s eyes narrowed. Why did it bother him so much?

“I know you don’t like having Bonnie help,” Vivienne continued, “but I also know she’s bored … and bored teenage girls get into trouble. Especially when there’s a couple of young men on the ranch.”

Cody glared at her, but she could tell he was wavering.

“Bryce knows better than to get near my sister, and Cade is engaged to Jasmine Turner,” he said.

“Cade Clayton is a grandson of Samuel Clayton,” Vivienne said sharply. “I know my family thinks he’s a good kid, but I don’t know him well enough to form a positive opinion.”

The history of the Claytons was checkered with double-dealings and backstabbings. A person didn’t have to go too far into the family tree to find the source.

According to Cade’s relatives, her grandfather, George Clayton, had swindled land and money and stolen the woman he’d loved from his brother, Samuel Clayton. Those half-truths and lies had been perpetuated by Samuel’s children and grandchildren. As a result, Vivienne’s side of the family, through George Senior, was hated by Samuel Clayton’s side of the family.

One of whom was Cade. Cade’s own cousins had been behind a string of problems that had dogged her family since Grandpa George’s funeral and will. Had Cade been able to keep himself above the invective spoon-fed to each of his relatives on the Samuel Clayton side of the family? As she had told Cody, Brooke and Zach seemed to like Cade but she still struggled with who he was related to. Les, Vincent, Marsha and the rest never had anything good to say about Vivienne or her family members.

“You Claytons and your family feuds,” Cody said in a voice that clearly expressed his opinion. “I don’t care who did what when, but I trust Cade Clayton.” Then he gave her a cool look she could only assume meant he didn’t trust her. “And as for my sister, I’m not crazy about her working with you, but I agree that she needs to stay out of trouble.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “She can help you in the kitchen once in a while and only when she doesn’t have too much homework, but I want you to know I’ll be watching you.”

“Watching me for what?” Vivienne couldn’t stop the words that burst out of her.

“Bonnie is easily influenced,” Cody said, his voice growing grim. “And she wants like crazy to get away from the ranch. And I know you think Clayton is some hick town and you’ll be leaving as soon as you can.” He stopped there and then waved his hand between them as if to erase what he just said. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. What you do is none of my business.”

Vivienne felt a confusing mixture of anger and shame at his comments. Yes, she was only staying around long enough for the money, and why shouldn’t she? Clayton held nothing for her.

But at the same time, his opinion of her bothered her on a level she didn’t want to examine too hard.

Then he looked around the kitchen again, shaking his head. “For now, I guess you’ll have to clean this up yourself.”

She wanted to make a comment but felt enough had been said for now. Tomorrow was another day.

“One more thing,” he said, dropping his hat on his head. “In the next day or so I’d like to sit down with you and figure out a menu.”

Her back stiffened at his suggestion. “I think I can figure things out for myself.”

“Savory stuffing balls?”

“We covered that,” Vivienne said, struggling to keep her wounded pride in check.

She had to believe the stuffing balls and the game hens were done to perfection. Considering what she had to work with, she thought she had done quite well. So what had gone so badly wrong that the men were so upset? Was she really as bad a cook as her former boss had accused her of being?

Her confidence wavered again, but she held his gaze. “I’ll probably be up before you in the morning. What would you suggest I make for breakfast?”

“Bacon and eggs. Porridge. I don’t care. Keep it simple and keep it edible.”

There went her plan of Belgian buttermilk waffles with glazed bananas. “Okay. You’re the boss.”

“Just remember that,” Cody shot back. Then he shook his head and turned to leave.

“You didn’t get your dinner,” she called out, picking up the plate of food she had made up. She wanted him to see for himself what the men had been complaining about. Wanted to find out from him what he thought.

He glanced down at the proffered plate. “Sorry. I’m not hungry.”

Don’t take it personally, she reminded herself as she turned away from him. Maybe he’s really not hungry.

But she couldn’t help feeling that when he rejected her food, he was rejecting her.

Why do you care? After all … he’s a cowboy. You’re a city girl.

Yet, as he left, Vivienne felt as if some vitality and energy had left the room with him.

She brushed the silly feeling aside and turned back to the dirty pots and pans and dishes. She would be here until midnight cleaning up from a meal no one seemed to like. That was enough to make even the most experienced chef depressed.

The next morning Cody stepped inside the cookhouse, his stomach growling so loud he was surprised it didn’t drown out the complaining he heard rumbling through the building. After he left the cookhouse last night, he’d gone straight to his own house. Bonnie was hiding out in her bedroom. So he satisfied himself with a meal of cold cereal while he paid the bills and balanced the checkbook.

As a result, this morning, he was starving. But the sound of the griping going on in the cookhouse this morning made him want to pull his hat over his head and turn and leave.