The Way to a Cowboy's Heart

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  Danny laughed. “Oh, you made your meaning clear all afternoon, Shorty. You want Tredway to take his dessert into the other room?”

  “I just won’t watch.”

  “They’re perfectly good.” Matthew dug into his dish of figs, but couldn’t resist needling Shorty a little before taking a bite. “Some folks say they keep you from being sterile.”

  Shorty puffed on his cigar. “My boys do just fine, thank you. Tucker, there, might want to eat some seeing as how he’s going to be a bridegroom in a few months.”

  “No, thanks,” Tucker said. “I’ve made it this far without figs, so I think I’ll take my chances.”

  “Suit yourselves.” As Matthew had expected, the figs were great. He enjoyed them while the six men finished their current hand, and when they were done, so was he. He set the bowl on the floor by his chair. “Deal me in.”

  Frank shuffled the cards. “Seven card stud.” As he passed out the cards, he glanced over at Matthew. “Liked that dessert, did you?”

  “Yep. Aurelia has skills in the kitchen. They just need to be channeled in a slightly different direction.”

  “I hope you can do it,” Jeb said.

  “I think I can.” His big challenge would be slow-playing the sexual attraction between them. “All I ask is that you give tomorrow’s lunch a fair chance. If you like it even a little bit, then you should probably tell her it’s good. That’ll make it easier for me to make other suggestions if this one goes over.”

  “Could she maybe bake some cornbread to go with it?” Tucker asked. “You can put up with a so-so meal if you have a good hunk of cornbread.”

  “I’ll see what she says.” He’d have to find an opportunity to talk with her in the morning in order to make that request. The thought jacked up his heart rate. “But she can’t know that we’ve discussed all this.”

  “Right,” Jeb said. “Matthew is like our go-between, but we have to make sure Aurelia doesn’t figure that out.”

  Danny clamped down on his cigar as he fanned out his cards. “He’s like a hostage negotiator, and we’re the hostages.” He threw a chip in the middle of the table. “Ante up, suckers. I’ve got me a powerhouse, here.”

  As the poker game progressed, Matthew lost more than he won, which wasn’t surprising. His thoughts kept drifting back to Aurelia Imogene Smith, which didn’t make for good poker playing. The cowhands chalked it up to jetlag, and he willingly took that excuse.

  If he and Aurelia became lovers, and he thought it was likely they would eventually, he’d rather not have the whole ranch know about it. However, he wasn’t sure if he could avoid that. His comings and goings from the bunkhouse would be noted.

  No matter what, he couldn’t let his interest in Aurelia overshadow his purpose for being here. While a new hand was being dealt, he brought up the subject of Houdini. “Any tips on the horse I’m here to train before I get started tomorrow?”

  Jeb laughed. “Tucker, anything you want to say on the subject of Houdini?”

  “Yeah. He’s a pain-in-the-ass, but I love that horse. If it hadn’t been for him escaping on Christmas Eve, I might never have met Lacey, the love of my life.”

  Matthew glanced at him. “That sounds like a good story.”

  “Don’t get him started,” Danny said. “The boy’s got it bad.”

  “Lacey’s a nice girl.” Bob picked up his cards and adjusted his glasses. “Probably too good for you, Tuck, but she seems as blinded by love as you are.”

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence, Bob.” Tucker fanned his cards. “The point is, Matthew, that Houdini’s gift for opening stall doors and escaping every chance he gets turned out good for me because I chased him over to the cabin where Lacey was staying, which led to us getting together. But the horse is too smart for his own good. He’ll keep you on your toes.”

  Matthew consulted his cards. “I’d rather have him be smart than dumb as a box of rocks. A smart horse can be trained.”

  “In theory, that’s true.” Danny chewed on his cigar. “But we have some fine horse trainers on this ranch, including those at this table, and we haven’t made a dent in that horse’s behavior. If he had a middle finger, he’d be giving us the Italian salute.”

  “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

  Shorty glanced across the table at him. “If you can fix Houdini and our food problem, then drinks are on me at the Spirits and Spurs before you leave.”

  “Whoa.” Danny reared back in his chair. “That’s big medicine, there, Shorty. I can’t remember the last time you bought a round of drinks.”

  “Bite me, Lancaster.”

  Matthew grinned. It was good to be back in the bunkhouse of a working ranch. Add in an excellent ranch cook who looked like Aurelia, and he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be, at least for the next couple of weeks.

  Although Aurelia would have happily fixed breakfast for Sarah every morning, Sarah insisted on making breakfast for both of them each day. Sarah was a good cook, though not particularly imaginative. Aurelia didn’t mind when the shared meals gave her a chance to know the woman who had been Aunt Mary Lou’s employer and friend all these years.

  While Sarah scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and toasted bread, Aurelia sat at the table with her coffee and the ratatouille recipe.

  “You and Matthew must have bonded over the subject of gourmet cooking last night.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Aurelia.

  That wasn’t all they’d bonded over, but Aurelia wasn’t about to mention the sizzling chemistry between them. “Have you talked to him?” After a week, she still wasn’t used to the ungodly hour everyone got out of bed on a working ranch.

  “He called an hour ago, before he headed down to the barn to get started with Houdini. He praised your cooking to the skies.”

  That got her heart pumping. “It’s nice to hear, since he’s eaten in restaurants all over the world, including Paris, the food capital of the world.”

  “I know.” Sarah turned off the stove and pulled two plates from the cupboard. “He’s an interesting combination of down-home cowboy and jetsetter.”

  And gorgeous, super-sexy male. “I was a little worried that my brochettes de rognons foie, et lardons wouldn’t be up to his standards, but he liked it.”

  “He told me he did.” Sarah filled their plates and brought them over to the table. “He also said that he’d get a kick out of consulting with you on future menus.”

  “Did he?” Aurelia did her best to act mildly interested while her heart thumped so fast she worried that Sarah would hear it. If he’d mentioned that possibility to Sarah, then the menu-planning sessions were still on. And if the menu-planning sessions were still on, then so was the possibility that they’d become lovers.

  But she didn’t want Sarah to suspect any of that. “How do you feel about Matthew helping me with my job?” she said as casually as possible.

  “Whatever he wants works for me.” Sarah sat down and spread her napkin in her lap. “It was a coup getting him here in the first place. He’s in demand all over the world, and we’re fortunate he took us up on our offer.”

  Aurelia wondered if Sarah literally would grant Matthew whatever he wanted in order to keep him happy. If so, then a liaison with the cook would only be part of the deal. If Aurelia thought for even one second that Matthew was the sort of man who took advantage of his position to get women, her infatuation with him would end.

  But he wasn’t like that. When the heat between them had threatened to consume them both, he’d left, because it was too soon, too fast. Obviously from his actions, he’d proved that he had standards and scruples. That made him even more irresistible to her.

  Sarah buttered her toast. “The more relevant question is, what do you think of the idea? For the time you’re at the Last Chance, this is your kitchen, and you may not want some six-foot-five cowboy invading your space and making suggestions.”

  Oh, but she did. And the suggestions could range far beyond the subject
of food preparation. She wasn’t an idiot, though. Whatever they shared would be brief, an interlude in both of their lives that would never become more than a memory to savor. But she wanted that memory.

  Until accepting Mary Lou’s offer, she’d never left Nebraska. Her family didn’t travel, and Mary Lou was the only relative who lived more than a hundred miles away from Aurelia’s hometown. Mary Lou’s honeymoon cruise, which included a trip through the Panama Canal, was unimaginable and frightening to the rest of the family.

  Aurelia had inherited that same reluctance to travel, so the trip to Jackson Hole might be the biggest adventure she’d have in her entire life. Matthew Tredway might be as close to a rock star as she’d ever get. If he wanted to invade her kitchen, or her bedroom, then she would fling open the door and let him in.

  None of that, however, would be part of her answer to Sarah. “If getting involved with the menus interests him, then it’s fine with me,” she said. “With his background, I trust him to give good advice.”

  “Great. That’s settled, then. As he mentioned to me, he won’t be training Houdini at night, so that would be a good time to come up to the house and consult with you about the food for the next day.”

  “That’s fine.” More than fine. They’d have the kitchen to themselves.

  Sarah gazed at Aurelia over the rim of her coffee cup. “I want to make sure you don’t have a problem with Matthew doing this. I promised Mary Lou I’d watch out for you, so if this makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll shut him down. I want to make him happy, but not at the expense of my staff’s morale.”

  And that, Aurelia thought, was why Aunt Mary Lou idolized Sarah Chance. She was loyal to those she’d committed to, and even a big-deal horse trainer celebrity didn’t take precedence over the welfare of her staff, including someone like Aurelia, who would be here such a short time.

  Sarah couldn’t know that Aurelia lusted after Matthew Tredway. If Aurelia had her way, Sarah would never know, but that was probably unrealistic. Even though Aurelia had been on the ranch a relatively short time, she’d figured out that Sarah was tuned in to almost every aspect of ranch life. Hardly anything got past her.

  Right now, Sarah was waiting for an answer to her question. Would Aurelia object to having Matthew, aka muscular hero, show up every evening to discuss the next day’s menu? Hardly. But she didn’t want to appear too eager for that program, either.

  “Let’s try it for a night or two and see how it goes,” Aurelia said. “If it’s not working out, I’ll let you know.”

  “Perfect.” Sarah tackled her breakfast in earnest. “My main concern is Houdini, of course. I hope he’s able to turn that horse around. If it relaxes him to think about food and menus every evening, so much the better. But he’s here to train Houdini, and that’s the primary goal. Houdini’s a valuable stud, and we’re not getting the income out of him that we need to. We also hope to train him as a cutting horse eventually. Matthew’s supposed to make him a joy to deal with.”

  “I’m sure he will.” What Aurelia knew about training horses could fit on the head of a pin, but she could feel Sarah’s frustration with a horse that wasn’t earning his keep. Matthew had been hired to cure what ailed Houdini, and as the new kid on the block, Aurelia wasn’t about to mess with that.

  Chapter Four

  A couple of hours later, as Aurelia had begun gathering her ingredients and spices for the ratatouille, Matthew appeared in the kitchen. He was a very different Matthew from the one she’d seen the night before. This one wore an old T-shirt that was splotched with sweat and dirt, a T-shirt that strained at the seams over spectacular biceps, pecs, and deltoids.

  Yesterday’s shirt had somewhat disguised his physique, but this one left nothing to the imagination. He’d been wearing his hat when he’d come through the door, but he took it off to reveal hair that had a tendency to curl when he was hot and sweaty. Two damp tendrils lay across his forehead.

  Caught up in the glory that was Matthew, she could barely remember her name. But she sure as hell remembered his, and imagined the joy with which she’d call that name in the midst of a spectacular orgasm. It was quite a vivid picture for ten-thirty in the morning.

  “I could use some carrots,” he said, seeming distracted. “Or if you don’t have those, apples will work.”

  “I have both, and good morning to you, too.”

  His smile was sheepish. “Sorry. When I’m working, I have a bad habit of getting tunnel-vision. And speaking of that, there was something else I wanted to ask you about. What was it?” Frowning, he gazed at the floor and tapped his hat against his denim-covered thigh. His jeans were more worn and form-fitting than the ones he’d had on the night before, too.

  “Did you want to discuss what time you’ll be coming to the house tonight?”

  He glanced up, and this time his gaze was focused and intent. “Sarah talked to you about that?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t stop looking at him. She wanted to walk over, peel the shirt from his body, and lick the sweat from his powerful chest. Who needed whipped cream with a guy like Matthew?

  “You’re okay with that plan?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He held her gaze for a long, hot moment. “Just checking.”

  Her toes curled inside her running shoes. She knew exactly what he was checking. He wanted to find out if she’d had a change of heart following their mutual admiration society the night before. He wanted to know whether she was willing to see where this sexual chemistry might lead them.

  “I think it’s a fine idea,” she said, in case he had any doubts about her feelings. “I’m ready for whatever suggestions you want to make.” That was a little bolder in the double-meaning department than she’d intended to be, but she let the statement stand.

  The effect on him was instantaneous. A flame leaped in his blue eyes and he took an involuntary step forward. Then he paused as if he’d belatedly realized this wasn’t the time or the place.

  He nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

  “Do you want the carrots and apples cut up or whole?”

  He blinked as if he had no clue what she was talking about. Then the fog cleared. “Cut up, if you don’t mind. And if you could put them in a plastic bag, that would be great.”

  “Sure thing.” She pulled the carrots out of the refrigerator and took a couple of apples from a bowl on the counter.

  “Or I can cut them up,” he said. “I’m sure you’re busy getting lunch ready.”

  “That’s okay.” She got out a cutting board and set to work. “I’m the cook, which probably extends to making treats for the horses. This is for Houdini, right?”

  “It is.”

  “How’s everything going with him?”

  “If we can stay on schedule, I’ll ride him around the corral this afternoon.”

  She turned to him, knife poised in midair. “Ride him already? Sarah told me he’d never been ridden.”

  “Well, today’s the day.”

  His quiet confidence registered on her lust-o-meter. So would his competence if he pulled this off. She continued cutting up the apples and carrots. “You should probably sell tickets.”

  “I doubt anybody would buy them.”

  “I would.”

  “Then I hereby offer you a complimentary ticket to the official riding demonstration featuring Houdini and yours truly.”

  “How will I know when it is?”

  “You might want to come out around four. I’m shooting for that.”

  She scooped the cut pieces of carrot and apple into a plastic bag, zipped it closed, and walked over so she could hand it to him. “It’s only the first day. I’m sure nobody expects you to ride him on the first day.”

  “But I do.”

  She admired his attitude even more than she admired his body, and that was saying a lot. “Understood.”

  “Thanks for the horse treats.” His hand brushed hers as he took the bag.

  “Anytime.�
� And she meant that sincerely. If Matthew would consider walking in here once or twice a day in a tight T-shirt, he’d contribute substantially to her job satisfaction.

  His gaze lingered on her face, touching her hair, her eyes, her mouth. For one brief moment it dropped to her cleavage before moving back to her eyes. “See you at lunch.”

  She could barely breathe. “Right.”

  “I need to go.” But he didn’t move.

  “Yes.” Heat sluiced through her, and if he didn’t leave soon, she was liable to forget her vow not to be the aggressor in this relationship.

  “What time tonight?”

  A slight roughness in his voice told her that he was anticipating it as much as she was. “How about eight?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Me, too.” And she’d take a second shower and put on her sexiest underwear before then.

  His expression softened, almost as if he might kiss her, but then he shook his head and turned. “Gotta go.” Putting on his hat, he walked away with a determined stride. But at the kitchen doorway, he stopped abruptly.

  When he turned, she held her breath, certain he was about to close the distance and take her in his arms, after all. Heart beating wildly, she moistened her lips. “Did you forget something?”

  “Yes.” But instead of coming back and scooping her into a scorching embrace, he stayed by the door. “What do you think of baking some cornbread to go with the ratatouille?”

  She almost laughed. She’d been thinking passion and he’d been thinking cornbread. There was no predicting what was going through a man’s mind. “I could do that.”

  “Great. See you later.” And he was gone.

  Turning back to the counter, she took a deep breath. The guy was seriously potent, and she’d have to stay focused on her cooking this morning or no telling what she’d end up serving for lunch. She opened the spice drawer looking for the jar of bay leaves.

  She’d just located it when she was startled by the sound of booted feet and a strong hand gripping her arm. Matthew spun her around, pulled her against his chest, and kissed her. She barely had time to register the heat of his body and the firm pressure of his sculpted mouth before he let her go.