She caught a quick look of herself in the mirror. Her black and cream hounds tooth checked suit clashed with the leopard walls of the room. The designer matched the loosely knit, oversized pattern with a darling tiny rick rack trim at the cuffs, pointed collar, pockets and edges. The matching short skirt hugged her bottom and featured the same trim as the jacket at its hem. Her red blouse, pumps, and a long strand of pearls balanced the dramatic fabric. Kiki touched up her lipstick and fluffed her hair, shaking her head, then left the powder room before the competing patterns gave her vertigo.
She followed her nose back to the kitchen, where the smell of garlic, butter, and other herbs filled the air. Noble stood over the stove, deglazing a skillet with wine from his glass. She laughed when she saw that he'd strapped on an apron.
"What's so funny, Little Lady?"
"Nothing," she said, stifling a snicker. "That was some powder room," she added.
"Oh, my mother's doing. I think it's an homage to all her powerful friends."
"Was that a photo of your father?"
"Yeah. The one where they're both laughing? That's my dad."
"It's a lovely shot," Kiki said, taking a seat with a good view of the stove. "So what's for dinner?"
"Salad, and steak à la Noble," he proclaimed, turning to give her a wink.
She watched as he pulled two large steaks from the refrigerator. They'd been marinating in some kind of liquid that she guessed included wine, salt, and garlic. Grabbing a set of heavy-duty tongs, he lifted the beef from the glass pan and placed each on the indoor grill. He must have already heated the burners, because the meat made a loud sizzle when it hit the stove top. He brought a bowl to the table and poured oil and several different vinegars in, not bothering to measure anything. Then, he grated lemon and orange peel into the concoction, adding salt and pepper before whisking.
Watching him work in the kitchen proved quite a show. Kiki especially enjoyed observing the vessels in his forearms bulge when he worked the salad dressing. Next, he placed a cutting board in front of the girl.
"Come on, Sous Chef, prep these mushrooms," he said, dumping a carton of the fungi onto the wooden surface.
"Sliced or diced?" she asked.
"Sliced, about an eighth of an inch thick," he responded.
Kiki had the task completed in no time while the ranch owner flipped the steaks, creating another loud sizzle and smoke that rose up the oven hood. Then he snatched the mushrooms from the table and scraped them into his skillet, where a wonderful bubbling sauce awaited. He put a lid on that pan and grabbed a bowl from the refrigerator filled with greens. He took two plates from a cabinet and piled a wonderful looking salad on each. She realized he must have planned dinner ahead of time. This was no last-minute idea. He topped off their wine glasses and pulled the steaks from the grill, placing one on each dish. Then, he poured the contents of the skillet over each cut of beef. He dressed their salads with the homemade oil and vinegar mixture she'd watched him make.
"If you'll grab our glasses, I'll carry the plates," he said with a smile, removing his starched, white apron. "This way," he added with a nod of his head towards the great room.
She had to avert her eyes when he took his fabric shield off. Watching him get rid of any piece of his attire made her weak-kneed, and she was afraid he might read her expression. She followed her client to a hallway opposite that which lead to his study. She hadn't been in this part of the house before. He took an immediate left into a spectacular jewel box of a room.
A large crystal chandelier provided lighting, along with a candelabra placed in the middle of a round table. Dark plum wallpaper with gold details and a long mirror over an inlaid buffet completed the furnishings. Heavy damask gold curtains hung on each side of a large window. She guessed the view in the daytime would be spectacular. Cloth napkins, gold chargers, silver cutlery, and a beautiful arrangement of fresh flowers adorned the formal table. The room seemed incredibly intimate.
Noble set the plates down and pulled out Kiki's chair. She hadn't expected this level of wining and dining on a ranch. In fact, when he'd offered dinner, she assumed they'd be eating in the kitchen or even in her lodgings.
He took his seat, so close to hers that their legs touched, sending an electric shock up Kiki's body. Harden grabbed her hand and squeezed.
"Let's pray."
His words caught her off guard, and before she could shut her eyes, he'd started talking to God.
"Dear Lord, thank you for this meal and for bringing Beatrice to the ranch and keeping her safe. Please protect all our loved ones and bless this food to our bodies. Amen."
"Amen," she managed to mumble.
Kiki pretty much saved prayer for emergencies. She didn't want to use up her opportunities to ask God for something on mundane issues like food.
Noble kept his hold on her hand while sipping his glass of wine.
"Well, tell me what you think." He nodded towards her plate.
Kiki inhaled the steam coming off her steak and shot him a smile. Then, she pulled her hand free and cut a small bite of beef, placing it in her mouth. She allowed the mushroom sauce to melt on her tongue before chewing.
"Mmmm," she hummed, fluttering her eyelashes. "Wonderful. Delicious. Have you been to cooking school?"
"Ha," he laughed out loud. Between chuckles, he continued, "Dad expected us to work growing up. I took my turn at just about every position on the ranch. I did kitchen duty as a teenager with an old chuck wagon cook who knew a thing or two about making a silk purse from a sow's ear."
Huh?
She had no idea what he was talking about but took pleasure in seeing his face light up as he spoke of his childhood and hogs. She glanced down at her salad. Fresh crumbled blue cheese joined mix field greens, small slices of multi-colored bell peppers, pecans, and raspberries. She took a bite and closed her eyes as the tastes and fragrance of his delicious dressing filled her mouth. He'd utilized some kind of chopped fresh herbs along with the citrus, and the oil wasn't from olives.
"How's the salad?"
"Fabulous. You're a regular artist in the kitchen, Noble."
"Why thank you, Beatrice. Can I call you Bea?" he asked in haste.
"No."
The name Bea conjured up middle-aged fat ladies with beehive hairdos from the 1950s or 1960s. She didn't want that nickname sticking.
"How about Minx?"
"Now how would it look if Mr. Jen showed up and you referred to me as Minx? You could ruin my career."
"All right," he said, lifting his palms in surrender. He continued, "I'll just have to come up with something else. In the meantime, we'll stick with Kiki and Beatrice. I'll let you in on a little secret," he said, whispering and moving his head closer to hers.
Here comes trouble.
She popped another bite of steak in her mouth and concentrated on chewing.
"I really love the name Beatrice," he growled in a low tone, just above her ear.
Kiki drew back, creating distance between them, and swallowed her half-chewed piece of meat.
"And I'm fond of Noble," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Sincere, she didn't know where the insulting tone came from. She did like Noble.
"So what did you think of those photos of my mother?" he asked, switching gears.
She took a sip of wine and thought carefully before answering. Mothers could be difficult. She'd take the diplomatic approach. Never insult a man's mother, her own mom's words of wisdom rang in her head.
"She's beautiful."
"Well, you'll get a chance to meet her. She's flying in from Dallas for a week before our cattlemen's ball. You'll get to meet the whole family."
Kiki choked on her steak. Harden gently patted her back, smiling.
"You okay, Little Lady?"
"Uh, uhm, yes," she said, clearing her throat. "What cattlemen's ball?"
"My family holds a big dance right here on the ranch each year to celebrate the end of winter. You see, B
eatrice, in the old days, we ranchers would be stuck at home all winter, not willing to risk a visit to far off neighbors in what could become bad weather. We had to amuse ourselves with our wives to avoid cabin fever."
Sexist.
He lifted an eyebrow and shot her one of his devastating grins before continuing, "My great-grandfather started having a ball once he was sure winter was over to bring everyone together, share the latest news, and have a good old time. It became an annual event. We've continued the tradition through the generations. You're invited, of course."
"Well, uh, thank you. I'm not sure I'll be here though. I'm heading back to Los Angeles next weekend and—"
"What?" he interrupted. "You can't do that. You haven't finished working on the collection."
His words shot from his mouth with an alarmed tone, distracting Kiki. Her wine glass shook.
Did he just pound his fist on the table?
It was as if he thought he could command her to stay. She watched as his eyebrows furrowed, meeting in the middle of his face, just above his nose. He clenched his teeth, and a pulse throbbed at the corner of his square jaw. His drew his lips into a hard, thin line. The man looked downright threatening.
"We'll see what Mr. Jen has to say about this," he whispered, almost to himself.
"I've already cleared it with my boss." Kiki found her voice. "It's why I worked today—in order to stay on schedule and still attend my friend's bridal shower next weekend."
"You're coming back." It was more a command than a question.
"I planned to. I'm the maid of honor. I cannot miss her party. I'll work tomorrow as well."
"No, you won't."
"Excuse me?"
"Tomorrow's church. Breakfast here at seven. Everyone on the Bar H goes to church . . . except in calving season, of course. Then, we take turns."
"I don't go to church," Kiki lied. She sometimes attended a service with Katrina.
He grinned.
"Be ready, in the kitchen, at seven, or I'll come drag you out myself."
The nerve!
She couldn't believe this bully. She knew there must be a law against something like this, even in Texas. She opened her mouth to inform him of the illegality of what he proposed, but he cut her off.
"Let's not argue, Kiki. Can't we just enjoy this meal together? I worked really hard to impress you."
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Fine."
"I assume there's an upcoming wedding connected to this shower?"
"Yes, in a month," she whispered, afraid of his reaction.
Chapter 8
-Two Rides in a Day-
After Noble walked her home, she'd tossed and turned all night. The man she found so infuriating haunted her thoughts and dreams. She couldn't help dwelling on the fact that she slept in his bed. She imagined what it would be like waking up with his rugged face on the pillow next to hers. They'd roasted s'mores over a fire pit off the back porch of the big house for dessert, and it had lightened the mood. He'd been jovial and kind, bringing a blanket from inside to keep her warm. He didn't even try to kiss her good night. She couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.
Still, she didn't want to risk the humiliation of him dragging her from the bungalow, so she set her travel alarm for six and took a quick shower before dressing. A tight-knit black dress with a suit jacket thrown over the top would have to do for church. She added a dangly pair of silver earrings, a Christmas gift from Katrina.
She picked at her scrambled eggs but indulged in one of Mrs. Briggs's hot biscuits with butter and jam.
"Good girl," Harden had whispered in her ear when she sat at the table. Of course, the only seat available was the one next to the ranch owner. She gave him a disingenuous smile as the others watched in silence.
What did he tell these people?
She felt as if she were under a microscope.
As he finished off a cup of coffee, she noticed that her cowboy had switched his de rigueur jeans and flannels for navy slacks and a crisp, white dress shirt. His broad shoulders and height dwarfed his old kitchen chair. By contrast, hers looked just right. She thought of Goldilocks and the Three Bears and smiled.
By seven thirty, the group headed for their cars. Noble took her elbow, guiding the girl to his large pickup, parked front and center in the courtyard. During the drive, he explained how Booker, situated right on the border, had once been part of Oklahoma. Tornadoes hit the area on a regular basis, and its ranching tradition went back almost a century. A tall grain silo in the distance announced they'd arrived. The two-lane highway travelled right down the center of the tiny village. She was shocked to see a sign stating: Booker, NEXT 9 EXITS.
"The town's even got a museum and a train caboose park," he volunteered, slowing for the only stoplight.
"Nice."
The placed looked dead, except for the cars cramming church parking lots.
Most pews in the small house of worship were already filled. Harden walked to almost the pulpit and signaled for her to follow. Sure enough, an entire bench, second from the front row, remained empty. He shot her a grin as cowhands filed in from the other side. His hand gesture told her to slide on in. She ended up between Nash and Noble, who squished as close as possible to her, leaving no room for his right arm other than over her shoulder. He squeezed the top of her arm and smiled, wagging an eyebrow at her. She was not amused. Farther down the pew, Peg sat between Sam and Cody. She wondered how her night on the town in Amarillo went. She'd have to check in with her later.
A robed choir of about ten people entered from the side of the building and filed across the stage. They clapped in unison to an upbeat tempo, swaying side to side, before beginning to sing. Their voices proved good. The congregation rose and joined them. Someone projected words to the song on a screen above the singers. Kiki joined in. Feeling the infectious tune, she tapped her feet and swayed along with everyone else. They went through several songs before the minister appeared.
He led a prayer, then used his hands to signal his people that they could sit down. He asked any visitors to stand and introduce themselves. Kiki pried herself free of Noble and stood, turning to smile at the small congregation.
"Hello, I'm Kiki Tam, a guest of Noble Harden."
A small murmur broke out in the church as she sat back down and flashed her client a naughty smile. She wasn't sure if the whispers were because she'd revealed his name or because she was the first Asian these Texans had ever seen. Turned out that she was the lone visitor.
"Welcome, Miss Tam," the minister said. "Ya'll be sure to say Hello to our guest after the service," he instructed.
A woman as wide as she was tall appeared at the end of the pew with a large, white envelope and ink pen. She passed the items to Harden, who gave them to Kiki. She smiled and nodded in thanks at the lady, who disappeared back down the aisle. The girl examined the writing implement, First Church of Booker emblazoned on its side. She tucked the envelope, labeled Visitor Information, between herself and Noble.
The pastor proceeded to preach on I Corinthians, chapter thirteen, known as the love chapter, Kiki learned. He described a different kind of love than that expressed in movies or on television. She found the sermon fascinating and thought provoking. The preacher kept it short. In an hour, the entire service was over and members of the church greeted the Los Angeleno as if she were a long lost relative.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, driving the truck from the parking lot.
"No. I liked the pastor, and the people seemed nice."
She noticed Harden giving her an appreciative glance as he drove down the two-lane road.
"What did you think of the sermon?" he asked tentatively.
"Great. I've been bored in church plenty of times, but today was not one of those."
"I thought you didn't go to church, Little Lady."
He turned his head, cocking an eyebrow of suspicion at her.
"Eyes on the road, pleas
e," she said, adding, "I don't attend regularly."
"'Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.'" Noble drew in a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, "Pretty hard to live up to that kind of love, don't you think?" he asked.
The cowboy shot her a questioning look. She sensed he was trying to figure something out about her—probe her character, perhaps.
"Well, it sure doesn't describe my relationship with James or any of my past relationships. I think that description is a standard we're to aim for, and one to use to evaluate if an association is on track. 'Love never fails'," she added just to let him know she knew some Scripture.
He smiled and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.
"Ow! Noble, you really don't know your own strength," she scolded, trying to get free of his grasp.
He loosened his hold on her but did not let go.
"Sorry, Tiny One."
He pulled into a dirt lot next to a small diner. The old building looked pretty rundown. She saw Nash enter the restaurant and a few of the cars from the ranch parking.
"I treat everyone who wants to come here for lunch after church each week. That way, no one has to do any work back at the ranch. Mr. and Mrs. Briggs visit her sister and aren't around anyway, and I don't like to see Peg working so hard all the time. Everyone needs a break now and then," he added.
The cowboy jumped from the truck and trotted around to the passenger side before Kiki could get the door open. His large hands grasped her waist as he pulled her from the pickup. He deposited the girl on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, avoiding the muddy parking area.
"Thank you, Noble. That was very, uh . . . noble of you."
He gave her a grin so brilliant, it seemed the sun reflected off his teeth.
After a meal of burgers, fries, soft drinks, and pie, the group dispersed. Most headed back to the ranch, but some peeled off on side roads, visiting friends or just taking a drive. When they arrived at the ranch's courtyard, Kiki thanked Harden for lunch and for driving her to Booker.
A Lone Star Romance: Book 2 in The Only Love Series Page 8
