by Ruth Langan
On an impulse she called, “What are you making for the wranglers’ supper tonight, Agnes?”
The old woman paused to catch her breath. “What I always make on Tuesdays when the weather’s starting to change. Firehouse chili. Know why we call it that?”
Maggie stepped into the kitchen. “No. Why?”
“Because the wranglers say you need a hook-and-ladder crew to put out the fire in your belly when you eat it.”
Maggie laughed. “Sounds like the cowboys like it hot.”
“Yeah.” Agnes nodded. “Hot and well done. It’s the only way they know how to eat anything.” She glanced at the steaks marinating on the platter. “I hope you’re going to burn those?”
Maggie grinned. “Maybe not burn. But I’ll remember to char them a bit.”
The old woman looked pleased that her advice wasn’t being taken lightly. “I’d better get out to the bunkhouse and start serving my chili.”
“Would you like to take some of this garlic bread with you?” Maggie held out a tray of the freshly baked bread. “I’ve got plenty to spare.”
Agnes seemed about to refuse, then, after a dubious sniff, nodded. “Okay. If the wranglers won’t eat it, I’ll toss it out for the critters.”
Maggie stood shaking her head as the old woman shuffled away. What had passed between them could hardly be called a truce. But at least they weren’t at war. And Agnes had shared something personal. It was a start.
“Okay, Chance.” Ace opened three beers, and handed them around as the brothers gathered in the kitchen before dinner. “Let’s hear about your meeting with Simmons.”
“Not much to tell.” Chance, comfortable in faded jeans and plaid shirt, tipped his head back and took a long pull. “For two days now he’s been poking and prodding through the company records. And he still claims nobody knows the password to access his files. He swears he read the contract just before it was printed out and faxed to me for approval.”
“That still leaves time and opportunity for somebody else to make the changes before the file reached you. Who did the actual typing at the computer?” Hazard drank. Frowned. “And who did the faxing?”
“Those are the questions I asked him.” Chance frowned. “How many hands touched the file before I found the errors? Maybe half a dozen.” He paused a moment, watching as Maggie set a steaming platter on the table. His mouth was watering, but he couldn’t be certain if it was the rich smells coming from the oven, or the sight of her as she straightened and turned toward him. The first glimpse of her face had his pulse racing.
The heat from the oven had damp curls kissing her cheeks and forehead. She brushed at them with the back of her hand. He watched the movement through narrowed eyes.
“So?” Ace prompted.
“So…” Chance pulled himself back from the distraction. “Simmons claims that by then it had all been proofed and printed. Which takes us back to him. And he denies ever seeing those changes in the contract until I pointed them out to him.”
Maggie caught his eye and smiled. “Dinner is ready, gentlemen. Help yourselves.”
She walked to the stove and removed a steaming bowl of Provençal sauce, pouring a little over the meat before serving it.
“Aren’t you joining us?” Hazard asked.
“You’re talking business. I think I’ll leave you alone.”
As she turned away, Chance crossed the room and caught hold of her arm. Alarmed, she froze.
“Sorry.” He lowered his hand. Flexed his fingers. They were tingling from the contact with her flesh. “I was just going to remind you that this is where you’re living now, Maggie. You have to eat, too.”
“I can have something in my room.”
“We don’t have any servants here.” His tone was slow, measured. “Only employees. You work here. Consider this one of the perks of the job. You get to eat with the bosses and listen to boring talk about business.”
“Yeah,” Ace added with a laugh. “And if you don’t like the treatment you’re getting, you can slip something into our coffee.”
“Hmmm.” She smiled then, forcing herself to relax. “Careful. I might find that suggestion a little too tempting.”
She was disconcerted when Chance held a chair and waited until she was seated. Again she had to fight her nerves as his fingertips brushed her shoulder.
As the others took their places, Ace drained his beer and unceremoniously filled his plate. The others followed suit and soon they had once again fallen silent as they tucked into their meal.
For someone like Maggie, who loved to cook, it was very satisfying to watch these three men eat. They did so with smiles and sighs and a great deal of concentration—as though each taste contained a slice of heaven. She found herself thinking that the Wilde brothers made the act of eating a purely sensual pleasure. Almost like making love. The thought brought a touch of color to her cheeks.
“What do you call this?” Hazard asked as he helped himself to seconds.
“Beef Maggie.” At the blank looks on their faces, Maggie laughed before explaining. “It’s just beef sautéed in burgundy.”
“But the sauce isn’t dark and sweet.”
“I made it with garlic and thyme and rosemary to lighten it up. And since it’s my own creation, I thought I’d name it after myself.”
“I don’t care what you call it,” Ace muttered as he filled his plate again. “It tastes like sin.”
“No wonder you’re having such a good time,” Hazard said with a laugh.
The others joined in the laughter.
Ace took his time enjoying the food before turning to Chance. “So, you gave Simmons more time to come up with a list of suspects.”
“Wrong. I want more than suspects. I want him to find the guilty party or face dismissal.”
“And what if he can’t figure out who did it?” Ace asked.
“Yeah.” Hazard nodded. “Or what if we’re dealing with a very clever crook? Then you’ll end up having fired one of your best employees, and you’ll still have a crooked one in your employ.”
Chance set down his fork, his appetite suddenly gone. “Don’t you think I haven’t asked myself those same questions? There was a time when I would have been Simmons’s most ardent supporter. But this is too big and the mistake too costly. Now that I have questions about his integrity, how can I trust him again?”
Maggie sipped her tea and struggled not to fidget. But this discussion was beginning to hit a nerve. They were talking about judging a man guilty before they had all the facts. Nothing could be more unfair. Or more personal, as far as she was concerned.
Chance caught the look on her face. “What’s that frown for, Maggie? Do you have an opinion as well?”
Startled, she looked up. “Sorry. This is none of my business.”
“All the more reason why I’d like to hear what you’re thinking.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you’d care to know what I think.”
Intrigued, he arched a brow. “Why? Come on. For the purpose of argument, just tell us what you’re thinking.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about this man, Simmons. But I’m curious to know how long he’s been working for you.”
Chance thought a moment. “Ten years. Maybe eleven.”
“Ten or eleven years? And until now, has he been a good employee?”
“The best.” Chance nodded for emphasis.
“I see. And this error was on a contract. Was he the obvious suspect?”
Chance’s tone lowered. “The only suspect. The Miller contract was his from beginning to end.”
“So, if someone wanted to plant a seed of distrust within the company, and also wanted to rob you of your most trusted employee, Simmons would be the one to go after.”
Maggie was already beginning to regret jumping into such uncharted territory. Chance was staring at her as he set down his cup of coffee with a clatter. So were his brothers.
He nodded. “Tha
t’s the dilemma. Either I trust my instincts and keep Simmons on, hoping we find the culprit. Or I fire him, and hope the error doesn’t happen again. Do I sense some disapproval from you?”
As the center of attention, she felt her cheeks grow hot. But now that she’d agreed to voice an opinion, she had no choice but to see this through. “How many years have you succeeded by trusting your instincts?”
Chance was still watching her. “Too many years to count.”
“I guess that says it all.” She sipped her tea, allowing her words to speak for themselves.
In the silence that followed Chance nodded. “Okay. Maggie makes a good point. If I wanted to ruin someone, the first thing I’d do is get rid of those around him who might be too loyal. Which brings me back to the first question I asked when I discovered the errors in the contract. If Simmons was taking a kickback from the Miller people, would he have been so obvious as this?”
Ace and Hazard shook their heads.
“But if someone wanted to make it look like he was taking a kickback, that’s the way to do it.”
Ace voiced the obvious question. “But who would be out to ruin Simmons’s reputation?”
Chance fixed him with a look. “The same one who’s out to ruin WildeOil. Or maybe it isn’t a plot against the company. Maybe it’s someone who’s out to ruin me personally. Either way, I’ll fall right into his plans if I start removing trusted people from my employ. Pretty soon, all I’ll have left is a pack of amateurs. And before long, there will be even bigger mistakes made on future contracts.”
Hazard smiled, feeling oddly relieved. “So you’re going to keep Simmons on the payroll?”
Chance nodded. “For now. If he’s guilty, he’ll make another mistake. And when he does, I’ll be down his throat before he has time to swallow. But if he’s innocent, it won’t hurt to have him watching out for our interests within the company.”
Hazard pushed away from the table. “I’m glad that’s resolved, at least for the moment.” He smiled at the woman who had tipped the scales in favor of Simmons. “That was a fine meal, Maggie. Thanks.”
“Where’re you headed?” Ace asked as he got to his feet.
“Out to the south gate, little brother. Going to check the herd before turning in. How about you?”
Ace grinned. “The night’s young. I thought I’d drive into town. Maybe find a game.” He turned to Maggie. “I second what Hazard said, Maggie. That was worth coming home to.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Careful. All those compliments might turn my head. Next thing you know, I’ll be asking for a raise.”
“No harm in asking. Of course, those who work for us will tell you we’re not the most generous bosses in the world. But you keep feeding us like that, we’ll be groveling at your feet.”
“Ah. I think I’m going to like the groveling.”
As the two brothers let themselves out, Maggie pushed away from the table and retrieved the coffeepot, topping off Chance’s cup.
“Thanks.” He sipped, deep in thought. It amazed him that Maggie had been able to put into words the very thing he’d been thinking about the errors in the Miller contract. If Simmons had been set up, it was because someone wanted to get him fired. That way, there’d be nobody looking out for Chance’s back on the next deal. And all the deals to come.
One look at Chance’s face and Maggie realized he was still mulling the problem. Reluctant to intrude on his thoughts she began to clear the table in silence.
Chance watched her as she moved around the room. Suddenly his thoughts switched from Simmons to Maggie. She worked with an economy of movement, loading the dishwasher, wiping down the oven and countertops until they sparkled.
There was a grace to her movements. An assurance. She was a woman completely in her element. So, why would someone as talented as Maggie Fuller walk away from a big city like Chicago, where her skill would earn her all sorts of rewards, to take a job on a remote ranch?
The answer that came to him was always the same. She was running. It was the only explanation.
Not his problem, he reminded himself. He had enough to deal with. He didn’t need to take on her troubles. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Who the hell are you, Maggie Fuller? And what are you doing here?
“Would you like more coffee?”
At the sound of her voice he blinked, then shook his head and shoved away from the table. “Thanks. I’ve had enough. And my brothers were right. That was a fine meal.”
“I’m glad you approved.” She turned away and switched off the coffeepot. When she turned back, Chance was right beside her.
He saw the wary look that came into her eyes and kept his tone light. “When you hired on, we didn’t talk about days off.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need any time off.”
“Don’t you have anywhere you’d like to go? Someone you’d like to visit?”
“No.” He was staring at her so intently, she was forced to look away. Then, gathering her courage, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “But thanks anyway.”
His smile was quick, hoping to put her at ease. “I know there isn’t much in a town like Prosperous. But you could shop. Take in a movie.”
“Maybe. At some later date, when I’m feeling tired of these four walls.” His smile did strange things to her. She could feel a nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach. He was too close. Too…potently male. “But right now, I’m content to just work.”
And hide out, he thought. Aloud, he merely said, “Okay. You’ll let me know if you want a day off and maybe a lift into town.”
“Yes. Of course.” She let out a breath, expecting him to turn away.
He’d intended to. But something perverse in his nature wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he took a step closer, effectively blocking her only escape. “You smell good.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I probably smell like beef and biscuits.”
“No. It isn’t food I smell.”
He leaned in until his face was inches from hers. It was the most purely sensuous thing she’d ever experienced, as he breathed her in. An animal instinct that left her paralyzed. She was unable to move. Even her heart forgot to beat. She stood frozen to the spot.
“Flowers. Spring flowers.” As he leaned in, he found the scent stronger just there, at the base of her throat. He could almost imagine her dabbing perfume between her breasts. The thought had him sweating. “What’s it called?”
“Spring Flowers.” She couldn’t help smiling.
“Yeah. I can smell them. Roses. Lilac. Honeysuckle.” Sweet and earthy and delicate. Like Maggie, he thought.
Needing to diffuse the situation she struggled to come up with something flippant. “I didn’t realize you were so knowledgeable about women’s perfume.”
“Neither did I.” He smiled again, that quick, dangerous curve of lips, and she felt the familiar flutter of nerves. “It must be something about the company I’m keeping lately.”
His mouth was so close to hers, she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. She swallowed, and wondered if he could hear the way her heart was pounding. “I…need you to move so I can get by.”
“You don’t like being hemmed in, do you, Maggie?”
“No. I feel…”
“Trapped?”
Her head came up. Her eyes narrowed. “I was going to say annoyed.”
“Ah. There’s that temper again. Good.” His smile flashed. “I like a woman with a temper.”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you like. I was hired to cook for you. I didn’t sign on to be your evening’s entertainment.”
“A pity.” He lifted a hand to her arm and felt her stiffen. What was the matter with him? He’d never before had the need to spar with a woman like this. But she seemed to bring out the worst in him. Whatever the reason, he was unwilling to let it be. “I think you and I could find the evening very entertaining.”
“You have a very high op
inion of yourself. I suggest, if you’re bored, you find a good book to read, or switch on the television.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Of course.”
“What a shame. You’re going to have to learn to put a little fun in your life, Maggie.”
“Thanks for the advice. Now if you don’t mind….” She stared pointedly at his hand.
He lowered it to his side and took a step to one side, determined to put an end to this. Still…the hint of flowers and the heat of temper had him more aroused than he cared to admit.
She let out the breath she’d been holding and started past him. But as her shoulder brushed his arm, she heard his quick intake of breath. In the next moment he caught her roughly by the upper arms and brought her to a skidding halt.
He saw the look of surprise in her eyes and cursed himself. But it was already too late. Without taking time to think it through he dragged her close and, keeping his eyes on hers, kissed her.
It was the softest of kisses at first. Testing. Tasting.
She was exciting to watch. Her eyes went wide with alarm. Then the lashes fluttered. Closed. Her breath came out in a sigh, filling his mouth with the taste of her.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for some time now, Maggie.” His fingers tightened on the soft skin of her upper arms as he drew her closer and took the kiss deeper. She tasted as cool, as fresh as a mountain spring.
Though Maggie was stunned and reeling, she had the presence of mind to keep her arms stiffly at her sides. It was a struggle. Part of her wanted to reach out and clutch at him, to run her hands over that trim, muscled body. To run her fingers through that dark spill of hair. Instead she clenched her hands into fists as his tongue tangled with hers and sent another series of jolts through her already overloaded system.
When he finally lifted his head she managed to remain standing, even though she feared her knees might buckle.
Though her throat was dry as dust she kept her tone even. “If you were hoping to show me that you’re stronger, you managed to prove your point. But I’ll remind you again that I agreed to cook for you. That’s all the service I intend to provide.”
