“Not me.” Hazard shoved away from the table. “Not that I didn’t enjoy every bit of it. But if I ate any more, you’d have to roll me out of here. Besides, I have a herd to see to. But I’ll be here for dinner.”
Though the old cowboy looked as though he’d gladly stay and have seconds, he had no choice but to follow Hazard. At the door he grabbed his hat from a hook and held it to his chest.
“That was just the best, Maggie. I think I could even ride a couple of our meanest bulls after that breakfast. Thanks, ma’am.”
She had to smile at his gentlemanly demeanor. “You’re welcome, Cody. Anytime.”
“I couldn’t eat another bite either.” Ace followed suit and headed toward the door. He turned. “I wasn’t planning on coming home tonight. But now that I know you’ll be cooking, Maggie, you can count on seeing me here, too.”
Maggie was relieved when they exited the kitchen. But when she realized that Chance had remained behind, she felt a ripple of unease. He wasn’t through with her yet, it appeared.
He remained at the table, sipping his coffee, watching as she moved from the stove to the sink and started running the water. There was no denying what he’d felt when their hands had met. A jolt clear to his toes. It had been a long time since he’d felt that much electricity at the mere touch of a woman. Maybe that was why he’d decided so quickly to keep her here. Or maybe it was simply that her talent in the kitchen was hard to ignore. He hadn’t enjoyed a meal this much in a long time.
Still, he wasn’t about to ignore the uneasy feeling he had about her. There was a lot more going on here than she let on.
“What’re you hiding, Maggie Fuller?”
“I beg your pardon?” She made herself turn and face him. “What makes you think I’m hiding anything?”
He flashed that dangerous grin. “Anybody who can cook like you belongs in one of those big-city restaurants. Like the one you claim to have left back in Chicago.”
“I told you. They didn’t appreciate me.” She turned away and squirted liquid soap into the sink, then filled it with hot water. She was shocked when she heard his voice directly behind her.
“Liar.”
Her chin came up. She kept her back to him. “If you believe that, why did you agree to let me stay?”
She was startled when his shoulder brushed hers as he reached into the water and lifted her soapy hand.
So. He hadn’t imagined it the first time. There it was again. That little jolt to the midsection. That quick sizzle of heat the moment their hands touched. Now why was this woman having such an effect on him?
He continued to hold her hand, running his thumb over her wet fingers while he stared into her eyes. Not dark, as he’d first thought. More gold than brown. The color of warm honey. “Maybe because I’ve always liked a mystery. And I’m intrigued by the mysterious Maggie Fuller.”
When she started to pull back he added, “I’d better warn you. I have a reputation for never giving up until the mystery’s solved.”
With more reluctance than he cared to admit, he released her hand and walked out the door.
Maggie stood where she was, waiting for her heart to settle down to its natural rhythm. In her twenty-eight years, she’d never had a man affect her like this before.
Of all the places she could have picked to hide, she had to choose one with a guy who could turn her knees to jelly with a single touch. A guy who reminded her of a smooth, sleek panther circling its prey—just before the attack.
It was late afternoon. Maggie had just finished baking a batch of biscuits when she heard the roar of engines. She rushed to the window to stare in surprise at a helicopter hovering just above the ground, blades whirring, dust flying.
When Hazard stepped into the room a minute later, she spun around looking absolutely terrified.
“Is someone looking for…?” She caught herself in time and amended, “Is someone coming for a visit?”
Hazard shook his head, wondering about the wild look in her eyes. “The copter just dropped off Chance. He had business in Cheyenne.” He saw her relax visibly as she turned away from the window.
He cleared his throat. “About my brother. I know you two got off to a rocky start this morning, but if you’ll give him a little time, you’ll find that he’s really a decent guy.”
“Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes. “Next you’re going to tell me he’s not nearly as tough as he looks.”
Hazard’s grin was quick and disarming. “That’d be a lie. Chance is even tougher than he looks. You don’t ever want to cross him. But he’s fair, Maggie. And as long as you’re straight with him, he’ll treat you the same way. Now, if you’d like a tour of the place some time, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“Thanks, Hazard. I’ll need a few days to get my bearings here in the house. But I’d be happy to take you up on it later in the week.”
“Okay. Just say the word.” He picked up his hat and strolled from the room.
When Agnes walked in minutes later, Maggie crossed to the island countertop, where the beef was marinating. “I hope as the days go by the Wilde brothers will be willing to try some more exotic foods. I noticed the freezer was brimming with nothing but beef.”
Agnes made a cackling sound that Maggie decided must be her way of laughing. “You’re in Wyoming now, city-woman. This is cattle country. Why would they buy meat when they have all they want on the hoof?”
Maggie flinched at the sarcasm, but decided to stand her ground. “I can understand that. And I guess I can try to come up with a thousand ways to make beef taste different. But it would be fun to try other things.”
The old woman shrugged. “The Wilde brothers will eat just about anything, as long as they don’t have to fix it. But if it’s not something they like, they’ll never try it a second time.”
“But as long as they have to eat, wouldn’t you think they’d prefer something more…interesting than plain old steaks and roasts every day?”
“I can’t say. All I’ve ever seen cooked around here is beef.” Agnes poured the last of the coffee, sipped, then glanced over at Maggie with a look of surprise. It was better than she’d expected. Without a word she drained the cup. “What’d you do to this?”
“Hmmm?” Maggie glanced over. “Nothing much. I just grind the beans and start with cold water.”
“You bring some special coffee with you from the city?”
Maggie shook her head. “Just what I borrowed from Thelma at the diner. She said she buys it at the local store. About the steaks…”
Agnes shrugged. “I can’t say what they like or don’t like. Hazard spends most of his time here on the ranch. But Chance and Ace do a lot of traveling. Big fancy planes and helicopters taking them all over the world. I guess it’s given them a taste for some pretty strange food. Still, it hasn’t seemed to change them all that much. Like kids everywhere, they spent their growing up years eating a lot of junk. That’s what happens when you grow up alone. So I figure, if you want to try cooking other things, they’ll be more than willing to eat them. If they don’t like what you fix, they’ll let you know.”
Maggie looked up, intrigued by something Agnes had just said. “Why were they alone? What happened to their parents?”
“Their mother died when Ace was five. I guess that’s why the boys have always been a little rough around the edges. Their father died a few years later.”
“And they lived way out here all alone? What did they do about school?”
“Chance drove them when he could.”
“But who took care of the ranch?”
Agnes shrugged. All of this was common knowledge among the citizens of Prosperous. “They did. They did most of the chores before school. The rest they did when they got home.”
She spoke in such matter-of-fact tones that it took a moment to register. Maggie stared at her in surprise. “Three boys ran a ranch and raised themselves?”
“They were pretty much raised by then. The two older boys were t
eens. Between the two of them, they probably figured they could bully Ace into doing what was right.” Agnes picked up a dust rag. “I can’t stand here gabbing. I got chores to see to.”
As she waddled away, Maggie stared after her, a million questions begging to be answered. How did Chance, Hazard and Ace go from three boys alone on a ranch to all this? From what Thelma had told her when she’d been offered this job, the Wilde brothers owned more land than anyone else in the entire state of Wyoming.
She glanced out the window at the rugged landscape, with the snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance. Last night Ace had told her that everything, for as far as the eye could see, belonged to them. Thinking back, she realized he’d said it in the same matter-of-fact way that Agnes had just spoken. Not a boast, meant to impress her, but a simple fact. Except, she thought as she began rummaging through the cupboards, there was nothing simple about these men. And especially the oldest, Chance.
As long as you’re straight with him, he’ll treat you the same way.
Hazard’s words sent a trickle of ice along her spine as she began to stir the marinade on the stove. Of all the people in the world, Chance Wilde was the last she would trust with the truth. If he knew the real reason she was here, he’d have her removed without a second thought.
She knew his type. A tough, no-nonsense businessman who would never sit by and permit a stranger to invite danger to his very doorstep.
Could she have placed them in danger? Could she have been followed? She shook her head, denying the very thought. She’d been so careful. No credit cards that could be traced. She’d fled with just the money in her purse and the clothes on her back. She’d paid cash for the bus ticket, and had chosen a town at random. She was in the middle of nowhere. How could she be found out here?
“That must be some soup you’re making.”
At the sound of Chance’s irritated voice she nearly bolted. She realized she’d been stirring the same thing on the stove for…how long? How long had he been standing there watching her?
Before she could form a reply Ace bounded into the room. “So? Did you and Simmons get your problem resolved?”
“No.” Chance continued staring at Maggie. She’d been a million miles away. And the tight expression on her face had told him her thoughts weren’t pleasant. “He has little time left before he’ll be looking for a new job.”
At Chance’s furious tone Maggie glanced over at him and was again startled by what she saw. This wasn’t the cowboy who had sat at the breakfast table in jeans and a casual shirt. Chance Wilde looked every inch the business tycoon, in a dark, perfectly tailored suit and silk tie, holding a hand-tooled leather briefcase in one hand.
“Hey, Chance,” said Hazard. He and Cody strolled in the back door and managed to catch the end of their conversation.
Seeing Maggie, Cody whipped his hat off his head and hung it on a hook by the back door.
“Still no answer, huh?” Hazard turned to his older brother. “Does Simmons suspect anyone in the company?”
“If he does, he isn’t saying.” Chance automatically loosened the tie and dropped the briefcase on the table. Both his brothers saw the fire in his eyes and recognized the signs. After his unsatisfying meeting with Simmons, he was spoiling for a fight.
“So you’ll be flying up to Cheyenne again tomorrow?” Ace pulled out a chair and turned it around, straddling it while resting his arms along the back.
“Looks like I have no choice.” Chance turned, admiring Maggie’s backside as she removed a steaming tray and set it on the stove.
Hazard peered over her shoulder to the biscuits cooling on a rack. “So that’s what smells so good. You actually bake your own biscuits?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” She almost laughed at the look on his face. “Would you gentlemen care to try a few with some cheese while I finish cooking?”
Maggie was reminded of a pack of hungry dogs as they watched her arrange the steaming biscuits on a tray with cubes of cheddar. When she placed it on the counter, the tray was empty in minutes.
As he ate, Chance could feel his simmering anger beginning to fade as quickly as the sunlight over the mountains. Good food had always had that effect on him. There’d been so little of it in his life. “What time is the next course?”
“Dinner should be ready in an hour.”
“Good. That gives me just enough time to get out of these clothes and into something comfortable.” He picked up the briefcase and started out of the kitchen. At the door he turned. “I haven’t tasted homemade biscuits since I was a kid.”
Hazard nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Ace merely looked from one brother to the other. “I don’t remember.”
“You wouldn’t,” Cody said with a laugh. “You were too little. But trust your brother. There was nothing else in the world like the smell in this house when your mama was baking biscuits or bread. She always used to save the heel of the loaf for your dad. Do you remember, Chance?”
“Yeah.” Suddenly Chance’s smile widened. Until this moment, he’d completely forgotten why he always preferred the crusty ends of bread. “Come on. Let’s get washed up for dinner.”
When Chance and his brothers were gone, Cody started toward the back door.
Maggie turned. “Aren’t you staying for dinner?”
“No ma’am. Not tonight. I’m riding up to lend a hand with one of the herds.”
She lowered her voice. “Agnes told me that the Wilde brothers lost their mother when Ace was five.”
“Yes’m.” Cody twirled his hat around and around in his gnarled fingers. “I’ve hung around this family since I was no more’n a pup myself. Wrangling. Mending fences. Doing odd jobs. And watching them pull together when things got rough. Their mama always worked hard to make things nice. And after she died, well, things were pretty bleak around here. I used to help out, making chili or burgers. But it’s been a long time since the house smelled this good, Maggie. It sure is nice to smell good food cooking in this house again. Makes it feel like home.”
When he walked outside, Maggie stared at the closed door, lost in thought. She was glad she’d decided on the biscuits. Bread was one of the most basic of all foods. One that most people took for granted. But for three men who hadn’t had a mother for most of their lives, it was more than mere food. It was a smell, a taste, a texture that would give them back, for a little while, their childhood.
Best of all, it had helped deflect that anger she’d sensed when Chance had first walked in. He’d been spoiling for a fight. It made sense that she would have been the logical target for all that anger.
If all it took to soothe the animal in him was a good, home-cooked meal, it was little enough price to pay for one more day of employment.
She set to work with a vengeance. She’d make them a meal they’d never forget.
Chapter 3
Agnes shuffled through the doorway of the kitchen and paused to wrinkle her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Maggie looked up from the stove. “Garlic bread.”
“Huh. Thought maybe you were roasting a skunk.” She grinned at her little joke. “Better not let the wranglers smell it. They’ll be hauling buckets of water to put out the fire.”
As Agnes started away, Maggie called, “Mind if I tag along and see some of the house?”
Agnes sniffed. “Suit yourself.”
Maggie followed the woman’s shuffling gait as she started toward the main section of the ranch house.
“This is the great room. My men hardly ever seem to use it anymore.”
The huge room was dominated by a four-sided open fireplace, with comfortable upholstered sofas placed around it for warmth and conversation. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out at a sweeping vista of fields and forests, and in the distance, the soaring peaks of the Bighorn Mountains.
Agnes led her along a hallway to a suite of rooms twice the size of the great room. “This wing belongs to Chance.” It was a combi
nation bedroom-sitting room, with a second room that was obviously an office containing a multitude of phones, faxes and computers. Two walls contained floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and ledgers. A third wall was a soaring granite fireplace. The fourth wall contained more floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the countryside.
Agnes walked to the coffeepot and switched it off. “Huh. Doesn’t look like Chance even tasted it today. A waste of good coffee if you ask me.” She turned. “Did he drink any of yours?”
Maggie shrugged, aware that the wrong words could hurt this old woman’s tender feelings. “He may have. I didn’t notice.”
She walked to the huge slab of mahogany that served as a desk. Atop it was a faded photograph of a boy of about three or four on horseback, smiling down adoringly at a man who bore a striking resemblance to Chance.
“Is this…?”
Agnes nodded. “Chance and his father, Wes Wilde.”
Maggie was amazed at the transformation in the older woman as she took the photo from Maggie’s hands and gazed at it. There was a softness in her eyes that hadn’t been there moments before.
“Did you know him, Agnes?”
“I knew him. He was a good man. The only man around these parts who would hire a Sioux. My husband, Louis Tallfeather, couldn’t get a job until Wes Wilde was willing to give him a chance. After that, Louis would have done anything for him. And did. He mended fences, fixed truck engines, went up into the high country with the herds. And when Louis died, Wes told me I’d always have a place to live. I wasn’t sure I believed him. Especially after he died. But his sons saw to it that every promise he ever made has been kept.”
Agnes abruptly set the photo down and turned away. But not before Maggie caught a glimpse of her face. Was that a tear in her eye?
Over her shoulder she called, “You want to see the rest of the place?”
“Another time. I think I’d better get back to the kitchen, Agnes. Thanks for your time.”
As Maggie walked along the hallway, she could hear the older woman shuffling along behind her.
On an impulse she called, “What are you making for the wranglers’ supper tonight, Agnes?”
Chance Page 4
