But he had the ranch, and that would be enough.
Gulliver nuzzled at his hand. “Anybody exercising you, boy?” Suddenly Boone realized that he needed the ride, too. Needed to feel the wind and the sun, a good horse beneath him. He headed for the tack room to get Gulliver’s bridle.
He stopped in his tracks before the tree that held Sam’s saddle. His hand hovered over the leather, and happier days rushed back. Memories of being lifted up in front of his father, too young to ride his pony where they were headed. His mother would wave to them as they turned toward the pastures where Sam would pass along to his son the legacy of a lifetime’s hard work. Mitch had never felt the ranch sing in his blood, but Boone had soaked up every scrap of knowledge Sam wanted to share. He had been an eager student, and he had thought his future began and ended on this land.
Boone looked around the tack room and wished for his own saddle, uneasy at using Sam’s. Jim’s was missing from its tree; there were two others, neither big enough for Boone.
His gaze returned to his father’s saddle, symbol of all that Sam had once been, all that Boone had once hoped. In that moment, memories, bad and good, jostled for room in his chest. But what pierced through them all was a sharp ache for what could now never be.
Sam was gone, without a word to the son who had once thought the sun rose and set in him. They would never heal the pain that was now the legacy of this place.
But one thing Boone knew, deep in his bones. He loved this place, needed this land. If it hadn’t become his in the way he’d dreamed as a kid—worked with his father and then handed down with love—it was still his. Not the house yet, but even that would come in time. And his brother would be found, no matter how long Boone had to look.
He would reclaim this place for what was left of Jenny Gallagher’s dreams. He had spent enough years wandering, been rootless too long. He would have no one to pass it on to, but perhaps Mitch would.
Boone was home now, where he belonged. And here he would stay.
He picked up Sam’s saddle and with it, his own lost dreams. He had plenty to do to restore the neglect he could see all around him. Whatever the price to buy Maddie out, he would find a way to meet it.
He would ignore the gypsy with sass in her eyes and too little sense. He would give her wide berth, gone before she rose and back after she slept. And if his hands itched a little to touch remembered curves, well, he’d often been off on missions or at sea for months at a time. Boone knew how to control himself, and he would, for an instinct that had kept him alive in some hairy situations whispered that this woman could be trouble with a capital T. She was beautiful and totally out of place. She was what stood between him and the home he’d never wanted to leave.
Whatever her claim, whatever wrong Sam was trying to right, he would simply wait her out. She would stay her thirty days, he’d definitely see to that. The Caswells would get this place over his dead body. But everything he loved about the ranch was everything she’d hate.
It was no place for city girls. Maddie would be gone soon enough.
Maddie stretched and yawned, surprised that she’d fallen asleep. She’d only meant to lie down for a minute, but the bright sun had gone far past the window of this lovely room.
Vondell had told her it was once Jenny’s sewing room and like much of the house, Sam had left it almost a shrine. Vondell had wanted to put Maddie in the master bedroom, but Maddie couldn’t imagine a move more calculated to raise Boone’s hackles than to take over Sam’s quarters or the room that Vondell said had belonged to Boone’s brother Mitch. She was temporary, and this was the only room left. The downside was that Boone’s room was at this end of the hallway and there was only one bathroom, but neither could be helped.
She liked this room, its old wallpaper dotted with tiny yellow roses. White Priscilla curtains over the windows matched a white chenille bedspread on the twin bed where she lay. The chenille had made her smile at first sight. It was just one of the things about Maddie that had driven Robert crazy, that she loved vintage clothes and wore them whenever she could. Stored in her apartment in New York was one whole closet of odds and ends she’d picked up, from broad-shouldered suits and tiny hats with veils to a genuine flapper dress and a big brown mouton coat.
Among her prize possessions was a lilac chenille robe that she’d brought along with her. It wasn’t sexy and it sure wasn’t glamorous, but Maddie loved the peacock design spreading across the back, the chenille feathers topping the patch pockets in front. She didn’t wear it often because it wouldn’t stand up to daily wear, but whenever Maddie was troubled, bundling into that robe made her feel protected and coddled.
It was the kind of robe she could imagine a grandmother wearing, a grandmother who would have fixed her a cup of hot chocolate when she spent the night, who would have worn that robe while bustling around the kitchen in the morning.
Maddie had never had a grandmother, never known any other relatives than her parents. Her mother had been an orphan, and her father’s past had been a dark hole at the core of their lives, a subject never to be discussed. It was simply the way things were, and the child Maddie had never questioned it. The woman Maddie now knew why.
Her father had moved them from place to place all of her life, constantly reminding her of the folly of depending upon anyone but herself. Maddie had had little choice. At the succession of schools where she’d always been the new kid, she’d always been too eccentric, too colorful, too smart. She had never fit in, but she hadn’t let it matter.
Until Robert. After losing her only family, she’d been alone and scared and wanted desperately to do things right so she wouldn’t be alone anymore. She’d lost too much of herself in the process.
Now Maddie was alone again. Though a part of her was shocked and furious with the father she’d always loved deeply, she recognized that he had been right. She was a fool to depend upon anyone but herself.
And if she ever got involved with a man again—which wouldn’t be soon—she swore it would only be someone who didn’t want to change her, someone who liked Maddie for exactly who she was.
Her stomach rumbled. The aroma wafting up the stairwell reminded her it had been early this morning since she’d last had food. But downstairs, she would have to contend with Boone and this mess that Sam had left her.
Maddie straightened and shook her hair in defiance. The glowering giant would be her test at standing up for herself. She ran a quick brush through her hair and bounded down the stairs.
Boone toed his boots off outside the back door, leaving them on the porch out of years of long habit. His mother had trained them well.
Something smelled terrific, and he was starving. He and Gulliver had enjoyed their run, and he had found Jim and worked out tomorrow’s plans. There were problems here, for sure, but nothing that couldn’t be handled by buckling down to hard work, something he’d never minded. Both Jim and Sonny Chavez, a hand who worked as needed, had seemed glad to see someone at the helm again. Now all Boone wanted was a shower, something to eat and to fall into bed until sunup.
When he opened the back door, laughter greeted him, Vondell’s rusty cackle mingling with a full, rich laugh that landed a punch to his gut. Maddie laughed like she talked, throaty and low, filled with life and sparkle. Their backs were turned to him, both bent over the counter, studying something intently.
“I swan, I will never get the hang of this, gal.”
“Sure you will, Vondell. You’ve already got the top petals right. You’re a quick study.”
He could see one side of Vondell’s face and the quick blush that stained her cheeks.
Blush? Vondell?
He closed the door behind him, and both jumped and whirled. He couldn’t tell who looked more guilty.
“Boone, I didn’t expect—uh, supper’s not quite ready.”
Boone glanced back and forth, wondering what it was that Vondell hid behind her back. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he replied. Despite feelin
g like his bones could sink into the floor, curiosity tickled at his resolve to head straight for the shower. “You all right?”
“Oh—sure—sure. Never better,” Vondell blustered.
Maddie simply watched him, chin up but eyes sparkling.
“Need some help?”
“Me?” Vondell squeaked. “Why, no, not at all. Uh, Maddie’s helping me.”
Boone turned to study Maddie. “You know how to cook, do you?”
She fought a grin he didn’t understand. “A little.”
Vondell shot her a shocked glance. “But, Maddie, you’re a—”
“A quick learner,” Maddie supplied.
“Now I don’t know why you’re being so modest. Maddie here is a genuine gourmet chef from New York.”
Boone watched a shadow cross over the mischief in Maddie’s eyes. “Is that right? Well, not much call for gourmet chefs in this part of Texas. There is The Dinner Bell over on the highway, but I’m afraid it won’t quite measure up to your standards.”
Maddie’s chin jutted upward. “Good food is good food, wherever it’s served.”
“So why would a gourmet chef leave a fancy restaurant in New York to come to this little burg? Who’s doing the cooking while you’re rescuing calves?”
The shadows darkened for a moment, but then came the sparks. Had he been standing closer, his hide would have been singed. Boone decided he liked the sparks better than the shadows.
“I had a small share in a restaurant, but my partner bought me out. I’m trying to decide whether to accept one of several offers or open my own place when I go back.”
“And they’ll wait for you to decide? You must be good.”
Maddie locked her gaze on his and gave him a slow, wicked smile that could suck the breath out of a man’s lungs. “I’m very good.”
Boone couldn’t respond yet. He was still trying to draw a good breath. “Well…” He stirred, slapping his hands on denim-covered thighs. “Guess I’d better grab a shower before Vondell throws my supper out.”
As he crossed the room, Vondell turned her body in tandem with his motion so her back stayed hidden. Boone shot her a curious glance, but Vondell only blushed again.
Vondell the drill sergeant, blushing. Would wonders never cease? Boone mounted the stairs with tired steps, still wondering what the two of them were hiding.
But not sure he really wanted to know.
Maddie thought she’d choke to death on her iced tea at the look on Boone’s face when he saw the radish roses decorating his plate. She wanted to laugh so badly it hurt, but she was afraid it would hurt Vondell’s feelings. Vondell fidgeted in her chair, waiting for his reaction. She’d tried to throw them in the compost crock, but Maddie had stood guard over them before she could succeed.
“Well, don’t just sit there like a bump on a log.” Vondell went on the offensive. “Eat your supper before it gets cold.”
Boone cleared his throat. “What are these?”
Vondell colored. “How did you get to be thirty-two years old and you can’t recognize a radish? I thought you injured your back, not your brain. They’re radish roses. You can eat ’em or not.”
He shot a look at Maddie. Maddie gave him no help. He cleared his throat again. “They’re, uh, real pretty, Vondell. Kinda decorates the plate.”
“Aw, go ahead and laugh. You know you want to.”
He frowned. “I do not. I just don’t know quite what to do with them.”
“You eat ’em, you big galoot. Just like you eat any old radish.”
Boone took a cautious bite. His eyebrows lifted. “Don’t taste any different.”
Vondell harrumphed. “Damn fool idea. Don’t know why you didn’t let me throw them out, Maddie.”
“You said you wanted to learn how to do them, and you did a superb job.” She shot him a glare that would have melted lead. “Didn’t she, Boone?”
“They’re, uh, real pretty.” Affection for the older woman shone from his eyes. “And they taste just fine.”
“Aw, get on with you. Just eat your chicken-fried steak,” she grumbled, but her cheeks were flushed again. She rose from the table and headed toward the sink. “After all these years of cooking for men, don’t know why I ever wanted to try such a thing.”
Boone shot Maddie a glower like this was all her fault. Maddie simply shrugged her shoulders and popped another radish in her mouth.
“This meal is wonderful, Vondell,” she said.
“Too plain for what you’re used to, I’m sure.”
Boone spoke up. “You don’t ever have to apologize for your cooking. I used to dream about it.”
Vondell turned, eyes shining. Maddie took a new look at Boone.
“Is that right?”
He nodded, finishing another huge bite. “Sometimes I thought if I could just have one more slice of your chocolate cake or one of your biscuits, I could die a happy man.”
“Flatterer,” Vondell protested, but her pleasure shone from her face. “You’re just wondering if I made your favorite chocolate cake.”
All of a sudden Boone looked about fifteen years old. His blue eyes sparkled, and Maddie wondered where this Boone had been hiding. “Did you?” Hope flared in his smile.
“Of course I did. Think you can stay awake long enough to eat some?”
Then Maddie finally looked, really looked at Boone, seeing that though his golden hair still glistened with moisture from the shower and his angular face was clean shaven, exhaustion lined his face and settled heavy on his frame.
“It’s close to two days now since you left to come here, right? A body can’t live on catnaps taken on airplanes. Bet you’ve been outside working, too, haven’t you?”
“I’ll make it fine.” His tone said he didn’t need mothering. “I used to have to stay awake longer than this when the seas were stormy.” But then the smile flashed once again. “But I do believe I’d sleep a lot better after a slice of your chocolate cake.”
Glowing with pleasure, Vondell turned away to get him a piece.
And Maddie tried not to wonder how it would feel to have him smile like that at her.
Chapter Three
What was that?
Maddie stirred, disoriented, wondering why there were cattle in her apartment. Tempted to go right back to sleep, she suddenly remembered.
She wasn’t in New York.
Good grief. She was actually here, in Texas.
Stretching, she yawned, then rolled out of bed. Motion outside the window caught her eye, and she moved toward it.
Through the open window, she smelled the sweetest scent imaginable and looked around to see what it might be.
Honeysuckle in abundance covered the white picket fence that delineated a yard around the house. Just past it, she saw the source of the noises she’d heard: cattle being loaded into a trailer by two men intent upon their work. The man with his back to her was a stranger.
Facing her was the man she’d fallen asleep thinking about last night.
Boone. But a different Boone. A relaxed one, at ease with who he was and what he was doing, not a trace of the growling stranger. Maddie couldn’t help staring. He might not be Prince Charming, but he was one very attractive man. She’d felt the power of those muscles moving beneath the worn fabric of his chambray shirt. Broad shoulders…lean hips…long legs filling jeans so old the seams were white.
He could make a woman forget that cowboys weren’t her style.
Maddie shivered. Then lectured herself, trying to forget the sensation of his strength when he’d come to her rescue, the unaccustomed sense of safety she’d had in his arms.
The man can’t stand you, Maddie. He’d made it clear that he would count the days until she was gone. She didn’t know how they’d tiptoe around each other for thirty days, but no more than she’d seen of him so far, it might work just fine. He had headed upstairs last night the minute he’d finished eating. Given the state of his exhaustion, she had no idea how he was even standing n
ow, much less already up and working.
Anyway, she was here to think, to figure out whether to accept the job offers she had or to try to come up with the money for her own place. She had places to go, people to meet. She didn’t need the distraction.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t admire the view. When Boone smiled at something the other man said, she went still, leaning on the windowsill and letting her eyes fill with the sight of a man who would make any woman’s heart skip a beat or two.
Lost in dreamland, she didn’t react fast enough when those blue eyes looked up and locked on hers. Boone’s face tightened into a frown, and she regretted the loss of that easy grin. But he didn’t stop looking, and for a moment that spun out forever, Maddie couldn’t seem to move.
Then she realized that her short silk nightgown left little to the imagination. She took a quick step backward and grabbed for her robe the second she was out of sight.
Coffee. She needed to get her brain clicking before she thought again about the power of Boone Gallagher’s smile.
“Aaayyiii, Boone. She’s the one Sam left the house to?” Sonny Chavez clucked his tongue. “Muy bonita.”
“You’re married. And she won’t be here long. She’s going to sell the house to me as soon as she’s satisfied Sam’s requirement.”
“Got under your skin, eh?”
“She’s a looker, all right. But not my type.”
“I haven’t seen you look at a woman like that since—”
Boone’s jaw tightened. “I’m not looking now.”
“You’ll play hell finding one like that around here. Where’d she come from?”
“The city.” Boone spat out the words.
“Which city?”
“It doesn’t matter. City women don’t stick out here. She’ll be gone soon.”
“But while she’s here…”
Boone shot him a glare. “Can it, Sonny. I’m not looking for a woman.” It had been a very long time, but no way. Not this woman.
Texas Heroes: Volume 1 Page 3
