“How did they find you?” Madge asked.
“It was more like how did I find them,” Rachel said. “I was reading a local newspaper one day last fall when I saw a picture of myself. Actually, it was my twin.” She went on to explain how Rebecca had been photographed at a basketball game with her son and Jeff Jacobs, a local lawyer. Once she laid eyes on the woman in the picture, all the suspicions she’d had growing up had been confirmed. Whenever she’d questioned her mother about why there’d been no pictures of her before the age of three, she’d never believed her mother’s lame excuses. For Rachel, there was always a part of her that felt incomplete. After seeing the picture, she contacted the law firm, and the rest was history.
Madge had tears in her eyes. “It must be wonderful finding your family.”
“Yes. It’s like a promise from God that I’ll never be alone again. You know, Will has found one of our brothers, too. Our oldest brother, Jim, is in the army. He’s in the Middle East right now, but he’s supposed to come home soon.”
“I only have one sister, but we’re very close. I don’t have to explain things to her,” the housekeeper stated.
Rachel grinned. “Exactly what I mean. They understand what I’m doing even if I’d rather they didn’t.”
“You’re so right. Once when I was sixteen I tried to sneak out of the house to meet my boyfriend. My sister told my mother because she was worried about me. I got caught.”
They both laughed at that story.
“What happened to the boyfriend?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, I married him a year later.”
“You did? What happened to him?”
“He was drafted into the army and sent to Vietnam. He didn’t come back. I’ve got his Purple Heart.”
Rachel blinked back her own tears at Madge’s calm recital. “Oh, Madge, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, child,” she said, taking Rachel’s hand in hers. “It was a long time ago.”
“And you never remarried?”
“No.” Madge got up and went to the oven, checking on the cake she’d put in earlier.
Rachel watched her, sure she’d detected some color in Madge’s cheeks. Was she interested in someone? Rachel hadn’t seen any sign of it. Until now.
“How many cowboys work on the ranch?”
Madge looked surprised at Rachel’s question. “About ten, plus J.D. Some days they need twice that many, like today. Other days, like in winter, there’s some downtime. Unless they have to start feeding the herd.”
“Don’t they always feed the herd?” Rachel asked, her eyes widening.
“As long as there’s plenty of grass, they don’t. But if it gets covered with snow, or maybe even sleet, they feed them hay. That means loading a couple of trucks with those heavy bales, then driving out in the pasture. The cows gather and they toss out the bales after they cut the wires binding them.”
“I think I’d rather drive the truck than be in the back feeding the cows.” Rachel shuddered at the thought. Then she grabbed Madge’s old hat and slipped on her coat. “I think it’s time to feed the babies again.”
“You’re right. But this time we can put the bottles in the holders. I think most of them will know what to do.”
“Holders?”
“Didn’t you see those metal things on the top rail of the pen?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know what they were for.”
“Come help me fill the bottles and I’ll show you.”
Rachel loved helping Madge, who made her feel good about whatever she was doing. When they had the bottles full and the big nipples affixed to them, they carried them out to the porch. Madge slipped one of the bottles in a metal holder. It held the bottle at an angle, pointing downward. Almost immediately the calves rushed for the bottle. Madge quickly slipped three more bottles into holders on the other side. The last one she told Rachel she could hand-feed to her favorite calf.
Rachel sat on the porch, laid a towel over her lap and picked up the baby calf. She helped it drink the milk that would give it strength and hopefully make it grow. A runt, it wasn’t quite big enough to reach the bottles Madge had put in the metal holders. Besides, the other calves would push it aside.
Rachel sang a lullaby while she fed the calf. She couldn’t ever remember enjoying a moment as much.
J.D. DIDN’T RETURN to the house until long after dark. As soon as Madge heard him come in, she heated up the supper she’d cooked earlier. He always had a shower on the enclosed porch and slipped on clean jeans and a shirt that he would wear again the next day.
When he stepped into the kitchen, wearing only socks on his feet, he stopped by the fire to warm up.
“Getting cold out there?” Madge asked.
“Oh, yeah. We’ll have to break the ice on the stock tanks in the morning and feed the cows. We only got a couple inches of sleet and snow mixture, but I want to reward them for getting through the day.”
“Good idea. Come eat your dinner.”
“Have you and Rachel already eaten?”
“Yes. I sent her to bed early. She stayed up all day, so she needed the extra rest.” Madge had brought to the table a hearty casserole of goulash, a mixture of pasta, cheese and ground beef that he loved. She added some hot rolls and black-eyed peas.
“You made my favorites tonight, Madge. Thank you.”
“I thought after your long hours out in the storm you might enjoy them. And I have a carrot cake for dessert.”
“Rachel didn’t eat it all?”
Madge chuckled. “No, but she did eat a piece of it. She loved it.”
The self-satisfaction in Madge’s voice brought a smile to J.D.’s face. “You know everyone loves your cooking, Madge.”
“I know,” she replied with a grin.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you today. But I was worried about Rachel being out in the cold.” He stopped shoveling in his food to stare at Madge.
“She was warm enough. And I think letting her help around here will be good for her. She doesn’t think she can do much that’s useful.”
“That’s ridiculous!” J.D. said, frowning.
“That’s what I said. Did you know she’s been working since she was fifteen?”
“She told you that?”
“No. Vivian was filling me in last week.” As she cut J.D. a piece of cake, she went on. “You know, I thought models made outrageous money. Not Rachel. She says she makes regular money. And works hard, too.”
“Yeah. Apparently she’s been working herself to death trying to replace her savings, which her mother stole.” He went back to eating.
Madge didn’t interrupt his meal again.
After the table was cleared, J.D. went through the mail that had come in that day, but he was too tired to worry about it tonight. He’d deal with it when the sun was shining.
THE MARCH WEATHER changed quickly. Two days later the sun was shining and no one who hadn’t lived through it would believe the storm they’d had. The pastures were greening nicely, making feeding the cattle no longer necessary. All the baby calves were moved to the barn and given to cows with calves of their own.
“You mean the mother cow doesn’t mind?” Rachel asked when Madge told her the calves were gone.
“Apparently not. It’s a system that’s been working for ages.”
“Even Boomer?”
“Boomer?”
“I named the smallest one.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Madge said softly.
“Why not?”
She shook her head. “Rachel, think about it. What do you think will happen to those calves?”
“I hadn’t thought— You mean they’ll be killed?” Rachel shrieked.
“Of course they will, honey. That’s why you don’t get too friendly. I learned that the hard way.” Madge got down a big bowl and carried it to the table. “Today we’re going to make oatmeal cookies.”
“We?”
“Well, actually, you. This will b
e your first cooking lesson. At least, I think it will be. You said your mother never cooked?”
“No. She was too busy managing my career.” Rachel’s voice was devoid of expression.
“It’s never too late to learn to cook.” Madge continued to move about the kitchen, gathering the necessary supplies and utensils. Then she sat down beside Rachel.
“Usually, I mix them up at the cabinet, but it will be less tiring for you if we sit down. Look at this,” she began, showing Rachel the recipe she followed. For the next half hour Rachel was fascinated with the process of making cookies.
When J.D. came in unexpectedly for lunch, Madge leaped to her feet, flustered.
“J.D., I didn’t know you were coming in! I’ll fix you a sandwich. It won’t take a minute.”
“No hurry, Madge. I’ll stave off starvation with some of your great cookies.” He picked up one that was cooling on waxed paper on the kitchen cabinet.
Rachel’s eyes widened and she watched for his reaction. So did Madge. J.D. looked up and noticed he was the center of attention. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
“Nothing, J.D. How are the cookies?” Madge asked, keeping her voice casual.
“Excellent as always, Madge.” He bent over to kiss her cheek and steal two more.
Rachel let out a sigh of relief.
Madge took great pride in announcing, “I didn’t make them.”
J.D. looked at Madge and discovered she was beaming at Rachel. “Rachel made them? I didn’t know you could cook,” he said.
“I can’t,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “Madge is teaching me.”
“Well, someone did a good job,” he said with a smile.
“We’re going to pack a boxful and take them over to Mrs. Smith’s house. Her grandchildren are visiting for spring break. They’ll disappear quickly,” Madge informed him.
“Hey, leave some here for me. You know oatmeal is my favorite cookie.”
“We will, we will,” Madge promised.
She put his sandwich in front of him.
“Aren’t you and Rachel going to eat?”
“Oh, we decided to wait awhile.”
Madge’s offhand attitude and Rachel’s blush brought J.D. to the conclusion that they’d been sampling their work. “Aha! I’m not the first one to eat cookies, am I?”
Rachel grinned at him. “Madge says it’s the cook’s privilege to sample what she’s baked.”
J.D. thought it was the first time since she’d been here that Rachel had ever teased him. She was adorable. “So that’s why you’re learning to cook?”
“Maybe,” she replied with a wide smile.
“Are you going to eat your sandwich, young man, or just stand around gawking at us all afternoon?” Madge asked, bringing him to his senses.
“Guess I’d better eat.” He sat down at the table.
“Rachel, you’d best go get changed,” Madge added, sending Rachel scurrying out of the room.
“What’s wrong with what she’s wearing?” J.D. demanded. She’d had on jeans and a plaid shirt.
“Nothing, Mr. Fashion Consultant. Rachel said she’d like to put on a skirt for a change. I didn’t see how it could hurt.”
“You haven’t seen her legs,” J.D. muttered under his breath.
“What did you say?” Madge asked suspiciously.
“Nothing. I shouldn’t talk with my mouth full,” he said, and promptly bit into the sandwich.
“Uh-huh,” Madge agreed. She began preparing sandwiches for her and Rachel. She didn’t want to take Rachel to the neighbor without feeding her something substantial. Social calls could be tiring.
Rachel came back to the kitchen wearing a denim skirt that fitted her slim figure well, topped by a short-sleeved cotton sweater in blue that made her eyes seem larger than ever. J.D. took one look and knew he was seeing trouble. Quickly he lowered his gaze to his sandwich. He couldn’t afford too many looks at Rachel. She was too tempting.
“Come eat your sandwich, Rachel,” Madge called.
“I’m still not very hungry,” she protested.
“I’m not having you passing out at the neighbor’s house. Mrs. Smith will think I’m not feeding you properly.”
Rachel sat down at once. She began eating, but suddenly paused. “J.D.?”
“Yeah?” he replied, cautiously glancing up.
“Can I go visit Boomer in the cow barn?”
In a panic, he reviewed the names of all his cowboys. With relief, he said, “We don’t have a Boomer.”
“She means the calf. The smallest one,” Madge explained.
“You named him?” The outrage in his voice brought color to Rachel’s cheeks.
“Yes, I did.”
“When you live on a ranch, Rachel, you name horses, not cows. For obvious reasons.”
“I haven’t met any horses,” she pointed out.
“You don’t meet— Never mind. We’ve got a mare ready to foal any day now. I’ll let you name her baby.”
“Really? I’d love to. But I’d still like to see Boomer again.” She had a stubborn look on her face.
“Okay, fine. I’ll take you to the barn this evening. But you can’t wear that skirt.” He allowed himself one more peek at her legs. When he looked up, he realized she’d noticed.
“Uh, you might mess it up.” His belated explanation didn’t ring true even to his own ears. “I’d better get back in the saddle. We’re having to check all the fences since we had that little storm.”
After J.D. left the house, Rachel asked, “What does he mean, check the fences?”
“They ride along all the fences to make sure there are no breaks in the barbed wire. If there are, they have to dismount and repair them. Not the best job for a cowboy. Anything that means they have to get off their horses doesn’t please them.”
“Why?”
“Oh, honey, cowboys and their horses are a team. Besides, bowlegged cowboys don’t like walking. Boots are made for riding, not walking.”
“I’m learning so much, Madge. It’s so exciting.”
“Didn’t you learn things while you modeled?”
“How to get rid of unwanted men and their ridiculous pick-up lines. And I did read a lot. There’s a lot of time wasted as the photographer sets up the shoot.”
“I read in the evenings. We’ll have to compare notes while we drive over to Bertha Smith’s house.”
J.D. COULDN’T KEEP his mind off Rachel. She seemed awfully happy on the ranch. She hadn’t once said she was bored, or asked to go to a mall. That would probably come when she was feeling better. She’d been proud of herself for making cookies as good as Madge’s. He’d seen that and it had tickled him.
When he’d brought her out here to recuperate, he’d never thought she’d fit in so well. But she was game for pretty much anything, especially tending the calves. And she’d looked downright beautiful in Madge’s old hat, the baby calf in her arms. Beautiful enough to—
“Hey, boss, don’t you want to fix this break?” Doug called. They were riding fences together.
J.D. looked over in amazement. He’d missed six feet of broken fence. “Sorry,” he said, swinging down from Red, his favorite mount. Doug had already dismounted with his pliers and pieces of barbed wire to connect and strengthen the break.
“Sorry, I had my mind on something.”
“Yeah. I saw her in that sassy little skirt, too,” Doug said with a laugh that he choked off when he met his boss’s glare.
“I think you’d better forget that,” J.D. said, a threat in his voice.
“Yes, sir.”
Normally he wasn’t formal with his men, but he didn’t want any of them sniffing around Rachel. “She’s our guest and will be leaving as soon as she’s well.”
“Right, boss. If you’ll hold these two pieces of wire together, I’ll twist them in place,” Doug said, no doubt trying to demonstrate how much his mind was on his work.
J.D. tugged on his leather gloves to protect hi
s hands and grasped the wires, pulling them as close together as he could. He shouldn’t be too hard on Doug. After all, Doug had noticed the break in the fence. Unlike him. He would’ve kept on riding, his mind on Rachel.
They remounted and continued along the fence line, J.D. trying hard to keep his mind on the job. But riding fences lent itself to thinking. He had enough men that he usually sent them out in pairs, but he didn’t assign any tasks he didn’t do himself.
An hour later, J.D. led his partner toward home. “We’ve covered a lot of territory today, Doug. Good job. Along with the other two teams, we should be able to finish up tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Neither of them mentioned J.D.’s flare-up, but he felt sure the cowboy understood he was apologizing. He didn’t usually praise his men for fence-riding in pleasant weather.
But then, he didn’t usually daydream while he was working, either. At least, he hadn’t before he met Rachel.
Chapter Five
“I’m taking you to see this calf because you’re new here, Rachel, but you have to understand I’m running a business, not a petting zoo.” J.D.’s voice was hard, not leaving any room for doubt.
Rachel stiffened. “So Boomer will be turned into hamburger meat?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“So there was no point to me saving him?”
J.D. didn’t answer for a few strides. Then, just as they reached the barn, he said, “I realize it may seem that way to you, but letting baby calves freeze to death isn’t part of the business.”
She had no response. Instead she stepped into the barn, which was filled with a fragrant mixture of hay and animal smells. She wrinkled her nose, not used to the combination.
“Should I have perfumed the cows for your visit?” J.D. asked harshly.
She turned to stare at him, her eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”
“I can tell you don’t like the smell.”
She shrugged. “I’m just not used to it.”
Rachel's Cowboy Page 5
