by Myla Jackson
Mrs. McFarlan glanced out the window. “Too late to cover. You’ll have to make do with what you have, and quickly. The boys are on their way back to the house in a hurry. I imagine they saw, or smelled, the smoke.”
“What should I do?”
“Get those eggs on the stove and put some toast in the toaster.”
Jessie rushed to pour the eggs into a clean skillet. As she tipped the bowl, Mrs. McFarlan cleared her throat. Jessie stopped short of the eggs hitting the pan. “What am I doing wrong?”
“You need to coat the pan with cooking spray or you’ll never get the eggs off the bottom.”
“Where is it?” Jessie glanced around the kitchen.
“In the cabinet about the stove.” Mrs. McFarlan pointed.
Her heart thumping, Jessie jerked open the door and grabbed a can marked Cooking Spray and sprayed a healthy amount into the bottom of the pan. Then she dumped the eggs in and turned on the burner.
“Lower the heat or they’ll burn. Stay on them, turning the eggs with a spatula until they’re done.”
Jessie shot the older woman a grateful glance and did as she was instructed.
“Don’t forget to pop the toast in the toaster. I gotta go.” Mrs. McFarlan backed out of the kitchen as the back door burst open, and the three men charged in.
“Where’s the fire?” Colin demanded, swiping at the air with his arm.
Angus was next in the door. He coughed and glanced around the room. “Should I get the fire extinguisher?”
Brody was last in the door. “Please tell me that wasn’t our breakfast.”
Jessie smiled and pushed the eggs around in the pan, careful not to burn them. “No, no. I’m making scrambled eggs and toast.”
“Then why is the house filled with smoke?”
Forcing a confidence she didn’t feel, Jessie nodded toward the pan in the sink. “I’m getting used to the gas stove. The pancakes were casualties. I’m used to cooking on an electric burner.” There, that wasn’t a lie and hopefully they’d give her a chance to prove she could do this job. She didn’t have a better offer and doubted she’d find anywhere else that would hire her and board her horse.
Her muscles bunched, breath held, Jessie waited for the men to declare her a failure and ask her to leave. “Why don’t y’all wash up? I’ll have the eggs on the table when you get back.”
Angus and Colin left the room. Brody found a doorstop and propped the back door open. Then he crossed to the stove where she was standing and leaned close.
Her pulse pounding in her ears, Jessie could feel the heat from Brody’s body. She swayed, her body naturally gravitating toward this McFarlan brother. Would he take the opportunity, with the others out of the kitchen, to kiss her?
Brody reached above her and switched on the fan over the stove. “That should help draw the smoke from the room,” he said, his breath stirring the loose hairs around her ears.
A shiver slipped across her skin and she drew in a steadying breath. Don’t be silly, Jessie. It wasn’t like the man intended to kiss her. Deep down, she half hoped he would.
He leaned close, his lips brushing against her earlobe. “You don’t know how to cook, do you?” he whispered.
The brush of his lips rattled her brain and it took a couple seconds for his words to sink in.
Jessie spun to face him. Her breasts bumped into his chest and she momentarily lost her ability to form a coherent thought. Sweet Jesus! Why did he have to be so damned sexy? Scrambling for something to say, she choked out, “I know how to cook.”
“Oh yeah. Then why the burned pancakes? And don’t tell me it’s because of a gas, versus electric, stove.”
“I can cook,” she maintained.
“What was your last job?” he fired at her so fast she didn’t have time to think up a lie.
“I worked with horses at a stable.”
“And before that?”
“With horses and cattle on a working ranch.”
“And when did you learn to cook?”
He stared hard at her until she caved. “Okay, so I can cook on a grill and an electric hot plate. But how hard can it be to learn? I swear I can do it. I’ll prove it to you.” She pressed her hands to his chest, the spatula almost whacking him in the face. “Don’t fire me on my first day. Please.”
He hesitated for a long time.
Jessie’s heart slipped to her knees. She’d be riding out before noon, looking for another job and another home for her and Scout.
“I’ll give you until the end of the week. But I can’t vouch for my brothers.”
Jessie let go of the breath she’d been holding and flung her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” Her face was so close to his she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.
Brody leaned forward, his lips hovering over hers. Then he closed his eyes and set her away from him. “I promised I wouldn’t kiss you.” He nodded toward the pan on the stove. “You’re burning the eggs.”
Chapter Five
After a few days of charred breakfasts with overcooked eggs and burned toast, Brody helped Angus muck the stalls. Colin always left right after breakfast.
“Where’s he going?” Brody asked that first morning.
“Colin’s built a reputation as a construction contractor. He’s got several contracts in the tricounty area. He was planning on building his own house on the ranch before Mom went crazy with her ultimatum. That’s on hold now until she settles down.”
“He was always good at building things.”
Angus chuckled. “Unlike you. You were all thumbs with a hammer.”
“Still am.”
The third morning home, Brody was mucking stalls with Angus. He nodded toward the other stalls. “Mom says you’re doing well with your horse breeding program.”
“I’ve been building the Rafter M Ranch name in horse breeding and stud service. Every year, I add either a mare or stallion or purchase semen from some of the top breeders in the country.”
“Mom’s decision to sell will put a big kink in your operation, won’t it?”
“I don’t have the kind of money it would take to purchase this ranch or even a fraction of it. Colin and I talked about it. If we put every dollar of our savings together, we might have enough for a down payment on the house, barn and only a hundred acres. The rest would be sold.”
“I can’t believe she’d sell. But every time I’ve brought it up, she insists that’s exactly what she’ll do. She has to be bluffing.” Brody shoveled hay and dung into a wheelbarrow.
“She had a Dallas real estate broker out to give her an idea of what it would go for. I thought she was kidding too, but she’s been looking at brochures of retirement communities in Florida. She said she’s ready for a change and if that change doesn’t include daughters-in-law and grandchildren, she’s done with the ranch.”
“I have no plans to marry and settle down. This is emotional blackmail, the way I see it.”
Angus dumped a load of muck into his own wheelbarrow and leaned on his hay rake. “It’s her property.”
Brody dug the rake into soiled straw in the stall he worked. “We grew up here. We ought to have a say.”
“She can do anything she wants with it. Her signature is all that’s needed on sales documents.”
“I guess after living here thirty-five years, she’s tired of it.”
“And tired of taking care of us,” Angus said. “Sorry you walked into that. It isn’t like she’s been cooking for you the past eight years. Colin and I didn’t appreciate all she did for us until she stopped doing it.”
“I can’t say much. I ate out or had food delivered. I can open a can of soup and make a sandwich, but that’s the extent of my cooking skills.”
Angus grinned. “I’m thinking that’s about the extent of Jessie’s skills as well.”
Brody’s lips pressed together at the same time as his body fired up. If he were smart, he’d let her go now and cut his losses. But the plea in her gray-b
lue eyes, and seeing her sleeping in the stall that first morning with Scout, had touched him more than he cared to admit. If they fired her, she had nowhere else to go.
The woman might be hopeless in the kitchen, but she had proven useful with the animals and ranch work. Brody was quickly getting used to seeing her tall, lithe form around the place. He found himself looking for her around every corner inside the house and around the outbuildings. Occasionally he bumped into her and that spark of electricity reminded him of that first kiss, making him want to repeat it over and over again. “I gave her until the end of the week to improve the cooking.”
“Hopefully she will pick up before we starve.” Angus lifted the handles of his wheelbarrow and pushed it out the back door of the barn, to the compost pile.
Brody followed. Engine noise caught his attention and he walked to the edge of the barn. His mother’s SUV pulled out of the driveway with Jessie in the passenger seat.
Angus draped an arm over Brody’ shoulder and shook his head. “I don’t think we’d be able to fire the girl now, even if we wanted. Mom’s already attached to her.” He raised his hands. “I’m already taken, so it’ll be interesting to see who she tries to match her with, you or Colin. Come to think of it, I wonder if she’s taking her by one of Colin’s worksites to show off what he’s capable of. You know, good boyfriend or husband material.”
Brody’s muscles bunched at the thought of Jessie with Colin. Hell, he’d seen her first. Then he had to remind himself that he wasn’t in the market for a wife or relationship of any kind. He was headed back to Seattle as soon as his mother let go of the crazy notion of selling the ranch.
“Good for Mom. Two out of three of her sons married off might satisfy her.” He glanced down at the wheelbarrow. “Are we done in the barn?”
“I am. I have horses to exercise. I won’t need any help if you have something else to do.”
“I need a few items from town. I think I’ll go take care of that. If you need me this afternoon, I should be back after lunch.”
Angus chuckled. “You might want to eat lunch while you’re in town. Do it out of self-preservation.”
Brody hurried to the house, showered and changed into clean jeans and boots and headed for town, telling himself he really did need some personal items and maybe a can of paint thinner. He wasn’t going after Jessie to see if his mother was taking her to visit one of Colin’s jobsites.
Besides, Jessie might not be interested in his brother. Brody wondered if she’d felt that spark of electricity when she’d fallen into his arms in the storeroom of the Ugly Stick Saloon. When he’d kissed her, she sure as hell kissed him back. In the barn the other morning, he’d been tempted to break his promise and kiss her again, and nearly did in the kitchen when she’d burned their breakfast.
What was wrong with him? He barely knew the girl and she wasn’t even his type. That girl-next-door, tough gal might appeal to some, but it didn’t appeal to him. He liked girls who knew they were girls and didn’t try to be all macho.
Like Fancy?
Yeah, and look where that had gotten him. He’d lost his girl and his brother in that relationship.
Brody was headed back to Seattle as soon as possible. He’d do nobody any favors by getting involved with someone who was more at home on a ranch in Texas than anywhere else in the world.
“Thank you for taking me grocery shopping, Mrs. McFarlan. I wouldn’t have the first clue what to buy, or the money to buy it.”
“I’m along for the company. Don’t you let the boys know I’m shopping for them. And since you don’t have a vehicle or access to the ranch bank account, someone had to take you.”
“I really do appreciate your help that first morning. I didn’t make a good first impression. And I can’t keep making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or grilling burgers, like I have for the past couple days. I have to make a real dinner tonight, or I’ll be out job hunting again.”
“Don’t you worry. I have a few recipes you can follow. It just takes a little patience and attention to what’s on the fire. Didn’t your mother teach you to cook anything?”
Jessie shook her head. “My mother left my father when I was four. I barely remember her. Dad raised me the best he could.”
“What did he do for a living?”
“He was a ranch foreman for a big ranch in the Panhandle.”
“Where is he now?”
Jessie’s chest tightened and tears stung her eyes. “He died two years ago of a massive heart attack. No one knew he even had a problem. Especially me.” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away with the back of her hand.
“Same thing happened to my husband. One minute we were one big, happy family. The next he was dead and gone, leaving me and my three sons to manage the ranch he loved so much.”
“At least you weren’t forced out of the only home you ever knew.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
Jessie nodded. “I worked as one of the ranch hands and lived in the foreman’s house with my father.”
Mrs. McFarlan shook her head. “And when your father passed away, they hired another foreman and you were out of a place to live?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t afford to work at the ranch anymore without a place to live. All I have left of the life I had with my father is the horse he gave me for my twenty-first birthday.” She smiled. “The ranch owner didn’t want him because he said he was ugly.” Her lips pressed together. “He might not be the prettiest color, but he’s a damned good horse.” And her only friend.
“I’m sure he’s a fine horse. And if you want to help out on the ranch, I’m sure the boys will appreciate your efforts.”
As they entered Temptation, Jessie looked around eagerly, anxious to get to know the town she could be calling home if all went well with her job at the ranch. It was quaint, with one stoplight, a decent-sized grocery store, a dress shop, beauty shop, flower shop and diner.
“I thought we might stop at a little clothing store, then eat lunch at the diner and finish off by purchasing groceries.”
“You’re driving, even though you say you’re only along for the ride,” Jessie said.
The clothing store on Main Street had a nice variety of women’s clothing, including shorts, tops, dresses and jeans.
Mrs. McFarlan headed straight for the rack of short party dresses and thumbed through them until she found a pale-blue one. She held it up to Jessie and smiled. “This one brings the color out in your eyes. You should try it on.”
Jessie shook her head. “I can’t afford any new clothes. I only just started working for the Rafter M Ranch. I haven’t even drawn my first paycheck.” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t come in here on my account, did you?” She backed toward the door. “I don’t have much, ma’am, but what I have, I paid for myself.”
“Honey, from what I can tell, you only have the jeans you’re wearing and one other pair. You need more than that.”
“I have all I need.” Jessie spun and headed for the door. “I’ll just wait outside until you’re done shopping in here.”
Her cheeks heated, Jessie stepped out onto the sidewalk, her heart pounding and her eyes burning. God, she hated when people pitied her and thought she was a charity case. Damn it, she could take care of herself. She didn’t need handouts. She’d work for what she had, by God.
Mrs. McFarlan stepped out of the shop and slipped an arm around Jessie’s waist. “Please accept my apologies. I only want to help.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need anything I haven’t earned.”
“Everyone needs a little help every once in a while. It’s not a poor reflection on you if you let someone give you a hand. You could consider it a hand up, not a handout.”
“I’d rather not consider it at all, thank you.” Jessie forced a smile. “If my clothes bother you that much, perhaps there’s a thrift store around here? I have a little money I earned working at the Ugly Stick Saloon.”
Mr
s. McFarlan grinned. “As a matter of fact, there is. Follow me.”
She led her to a store one block off Main Street that sold clothes to raise money for the local women’s shelter. “Not only will you be getting a bargain on what you buy, but your money will go toward helping out women who are in dire situations.”
Jessie searched through the clothes racks and selected three pairs of gently worn jeans in her size and a couple of tops. Mrs. McFarlan found a dress similar to the one in the other store, in a heather blue, and held it out to her.
“I have no need for a dress,” Jessie said. “The only one I ever owned was the one I wore to my father’s funeral. I gave it to the Salvation Army before I left the ranch my father gave his life to.”
“Let me buy this one for you. It’s not a dress to wear to a funeral and it would be nice to have in case you go dancing.”
“Ma’am, I really don’t see a need for it, and I won’t take your money.” Jessie placed her things on the counter.
The clerk glanced at the dress. “That color would go perfectly with your eyes and it’s marked down for clearance.” She turned over the price tag and it was so ridiculously low—and Mrs. McFarlan really wanted her to have a dress—that Jessie said, “Okay, I’ll take it, these tops and the jeans.”
“You’re in luck on the jeans too. Today all denim is fifty percent off the marked prices.”
“Then you can afford this one too.” Mrs. McFarlan laid another dress on the counter.
The clerk smiled. “That one was marked down today too.”
Giving in to Mrs. M’s desire to see her in dresses, Jessie nodded.
The woman rang up her purchases and Jessie was happy to see that she’d barely put a dent in the little bit of money she’d earned.
With new-to-her clothes and money in her pocket, she left the store with a smile on her face.
“That was fun,” Mrs. McFarlan said, hooking her purchase of a like-new designer purse on her arm. “I’ll have to remember to shop there more often.”
The smell of fried chicken and fresh bread drifted to Jessie from the diner a block down Main Street and her stomach grumbled. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have lunch before the grocery store?”
