10
Almost at the barn, Ethan, muttering under his breath, caught sight of Skip leading a pregnant cow, Millie, to the pen beside it, the place reserved for calving. He preferred the outside atmosphere—what could be more natural for a cow?—but did insist on first-calf heifers calving in the barn. If problems arose, it was almost always with the first-timers and he normally also had Cole on standby as well. Millie was old-hat at calving though, and he doubted there’d be an issue. He trotted to meet Skip, and saw Millie paw the ground. She was close. He knew it and also knew Skip was about to inform him of it anyway. It was an annoying habit of Skip’s, relating information Ethan already possessed, but he’d forgive the foreman his idiosyncrasy, even in the sour mood he was in.
“She’s ready to go,” Skip informed him.
Ethan nodded, biting back the ‘no shit’ he longed to unload. His bad mood wasn’t Skip’s fault and he wouldn’t take it out on him. Murray, maybe, if that idiot decided to stir up shit today, but not Skip. All Skip’s shortcomings delivered together would never have him losing his respect for the man. Leading the way, Ethan unlatched the gate to the pen and, as Skip passed him with Millie, Jeff came running up. His face slightly flushed with his movements, his eyes bright, he’d abandoned his stall-mucking, undoubtedly having heard Skip and Ethan. Knowing Jeff loved watching calving as much as he did, Ethan almost smiled. Almost. Had he not just had that run-in with Zoë, he probably would have.
When Skip slipped Millie’s halter off, she began to wander around the pen, undoubtedly choosing a worthy spot. Ethan dipped his head to Skip.
“Jeff and I have this.”
Skip left the pen, latching it behind him. Ethan knew Skip, too, adored attending calvings, but Jeff needed to learn as much as he could. Possibly too excited over the event, Jeff had forgotten to bring a few items with him. Again, given Millie’s great track-record as a momma, they were probably unnecessary, but it was best to be prepared. He looked to Jeff’s empty hands and heard the young man’s massive sigh.
“Right. Cleanser, lube, and chains.”
Jeff dashed off again before Ethan could tell him he was correct. Now Ethan did smile. Jeff had all the makings of a great rancher, his love for the animals topping the list. He decided to allow Jeff to do all the work that might be needed. Why not? Millie would most likely do everything herself but, if not, she was a great cow for Jeff to learn from.
As the men walked to the house for dinner, Skip pulled Ethan aside. Ethan, in no temper for another of Skip’s lectures, regarded his foreman warily. He should be in a better mood. Millie’s calving had been textbook perfect and, as he suspected, she’d needed little help. Jeff did pull the calf out, a beautiful little heifer, an act that had him grinning from ear-to-ear. Ethan had enjoyed watching Jeff as much as the calving itself.
“What’s up with you?” Skip asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you’re set to pitch a hissy fit.”
He rolled his eyes at the older man’s observation. Skip stared at him and, knowing he’d never get dinner if he didn’t come clean, Ethan kissed his teeth. “Fine. I had some words with Zoë earlier.” At Skip’s furrowed brow, he elaborated. “About her cooking.”
“What about it?”
“Seriously? It’s too fancy for a ranch.”
Now Skip rolled his eyes, a gesture Ethan didn’t see often. “Everything she makes is amazing. Best food I’ve ever had, in fact. Not to mention the coffee. Lord knows what she does to it, but geez Louise can that woman make coffee! How on earth has no man snagged her yet?”
His suggestive eyebrow raise tipped Ethan over the edge. “A man has, but they’re divorced now. So maybe she isn’t so amazing, Skip, maybe not at all.”
Skip seemed shocked by his hostile reply and, truthfully, he was too. What the hell was Zoë doing to him? Yeah, he was angry she, once again, shut him down so successfully he couldn’t argue with her, but it was more than that. He knew what, but just wasn’t ready to admit it. Her awesome cooking was just part of the incredible package that was her. Everything the woman did was perfect. She was perfect. And he wanted her, with an intensity that scared him.
11
It was quieter than normal at the dinner table, and Zoë took a few moments to clue into why. Skip was quiet, not the rest of the men. Well, Ethan was too, but there was nothing new there. It was Skip that caused the change in atmosphere. He was uncharacteristically reticent, and kept looking between her and Ethan, an action not repeated by any of the other men. Great, so Ethan had told Skip about the exchange she’d had with him. Perfect. Wonder if he told Skip the entire story. There was little she could do if he hadn’t, but somehow doubted Ethan would be dishonest in his relation of what had occurred. Most likely he’d told Skip how it unfolded, possibly only leaving out how effectively she’d shut him down.
Still angry over his words earlier, she’d made exactly what she’d planned on making, and the men loved it, as she knew they would. Sure, they’d looked at the potatoes strangely, until she explained they were merely mashed potatoes mixed with egg yolks and then piped into swirled piles before baking. She wasn’t going to change how she cooked and she sure wouldn’t change how she behaved, unwilling to give Ethan the satisfaction of thinking she gave in to him and his outrageous demands. He’d seemed furious over what she served but hadn’t said anything. Maybe he would after dinner, in the kitchen, when he started up the dishwater. Let him, she was prepared to go toe-to-toe again.
As the discussion centered on how Jeff had helped deliver a calf earlier, she witnessed an amazing thing. All the men congratulated the red-faced, smiling Jeff, but the look on Ethan’s face was pure pride. He had the air of a proud mentor about him and, despite her ire, she found it sweet. He clearly cared about his staff. The camaraderie around the table was lovely, but what she saw from Ethan was heartwarming. There was an actual person in that gruff exterior. What she’d seen yesterday hadn’t been a fluke. As if feeling her eyes on him, he met them, then rolled his slightly and looked away.
Argh! How could she even have considered sleeping with him? He was such a dickhead. Stealing a sideways glance at him, her gaze brushed over his beautiful cobalt eyes, the five o’clock shadow on his jaw, and then trailed down to his large, strong hands. She sighed inwardly. Why’d he have to be such a gorgeous dickhead?
12
Sliding the last of the fries onto a platter, Zoë looked up when Ethan entered the kitchen. He’d come in to help carry food out to the dining room, as always, and his eyes lit up when he saw what she’d prepared. She set aside her normal insistence on serving healthy fare in favour of a fun meal tonight. It was Friday, and only Ethan, Skip, Jeff, Murray, and she would be dining together tonight as most of the hands left to return home, only sleeping at the ranch during the week. In fact, only she, Ethan, and Skip remained at the ranch the entire weekend, the cows spending that time in paddocks or the barn.
She’d prepared fried chicken, hand-cut fries, biscuits, and gravy. While Ethan’s reaction wasn’t dramatic, it did inform her that she’d chosen well. She’d become quite adept at reading his subtle expressions as he continued to be frugal with his words. He’d liked all the meals she’d served that week, despite his insistence on making odd faces over her choices, and of course, his outright demand of yesterday that she stop preparing them. Time had given her some perspective over their last conversation. While at first, she’d been bound and determined to serve the most impressive meals she could conceive up, truly upping her game from what she had prepared so far, she’d decided against it. It wasn’t giving in to Ethan’s demands so much as a reality check. Perhaps, from the beginning, she should have taken Ethan’s advice—that the men’s palates were unsophisticated—to heart. As usual, she was stubborn. Bull-headed. She could be unreasonable, and knew it, but she enjoyed making the meals she had, including the fancy touches. Besides, every time she had made something the men normally wouldn’t eat, Ethan’s reacti
ons amused her. He always looked about to scream at what was on his plate, and then ended up eating every last bite of it. They were her silent victories, never acknowledged by either, but she inwardly celebrated each one. Her childish behaviour had to stop though. If he lost his temper entirely, he’d fire her, and she’d be in danger again. It was an idiotic game she played, and she’d decided to put an end to it.
As he picked up a platter to bring to the dining room, he dipped his head to her. “This looks great. Thank you.”
His pleasant tone had her feeling more conciliatory. “I decided on a simpler meal tonight. You were probably right in that I was too ambitious in my food choices.”
“Nope. You were right, I was wrong, and can admit it. The men have loved everything you’ve prepared. You did great this week. Thank you. Your pay cheque has been deposited.”
He exited the kitchen, leaving a stunned Zoë in his wake. A grin spread across her face and she felt like fist-pumping the air. She’d managed to win him over, at least on the job front. While she still couldn’t ascertain how he felt about her personally, still confused by his vastly differing moods over the past two days, at least her job seemed secure. Figuring it would be a while before she heard a reply to her text, she’d passed the first hurdle on her way to a safe life. She’d secured a place to stay in a secluded town, out of the reach of Nino Rosati.
Dinner was much more enjoyable with the smaller group, all able to converse together with ease. Soon talk turned to everyone’s plans for the weekend. Ethan and Skip still had chores to perform but had plenty of downtime and Murray and Jeff announced they were attending a friend’s party later that evening.
“Well,” Skip said, with a shrug, “I was thinking about going to The Goose tonight for a beer or two.”
“The Goose?” she questioned.
“Yeah, The Scruffy Goose. It’s the only bar in town.”
“With a name like that, it sounds like fun. Can I come along?”
“Of course, I’d love it if you did,” he replied. “It gets a little rowdy in there sometimes but it’s a fun place. We could go tonight, or even tomorrow if that works out better for you, you know, if you wanted to visit with family or something this weekend.”
He was fishing for information but, unlike Ethan with his calculating looks, she knew Skip’s interest was born of curiosity only. Still, she intended to nip his questioning in the bud, unwilling to reveal any personal information to anyone in town.
“I don’t have any family,” she answered, purposely lending a sad inflection to her voice, “so I’ll be staying at the ranch on the weekends.”
Skip’s eyes flashed pity and she felt awful for playing on his emotions, even as it was necessary to stop his questioning of her.
“Then tonight it is,” he declared.
“Wanna join them?” Murray asked Jeff. “We’ve got time before the party. We could pop in for a beer.”
“Sure,” Jeff responded, “I’m in.”
All eyes turned to Ethan who nodded, a small smile on his lips. “I’m game. I haven’t been to The Goose in a while.”
“Great,” Skip enthused. “You can be our DD, in case Zoë and I tie one on.”
He winked at her and she laughed. When she looked to Ethan, he wore that lop-sided grin she liked, and there appeared to be a warmness to his eyes. Apparently yesterday’s fireworks were forgiven, maybe also forgotten. Huh, tonight might turn out to be more fun than she’d expected.
13
Under the onslaught of throbbing country music and the sight of more denim than she’d ever seen in one place, Zoë entered The Scruffy Goose at Ethan’s side, Skip trailing behind them. Spending the short ride into town sharing pleasant chatter with the two, she couldn’t help but notice how Ethan had eyed her legs, exposed almost to the apex of her thighs thanks to the short skirt she wore and her seated position in the cab of his pickup.
As she took in the building’s interior, the long bar that ran almost the entire length of one side of the room, the pool tables, dance floor, and mechanical bull, Ethan’s barely-there touch on the small of her back drew her attention to him. He cocked his head in the direction of a group of tables and chairs and, as they made their way there, his touch firmed. Liking the feel of it, she smiled at him and received a wink in return. His affable mood this evening pleased her, and she hoped it was a sign he was warming up to her and not merely glad to be in town for the evening.
After taking a seat in the chair Ethan pulled out for her, she grinned at Skip who plunked down in the chair beside her, and then looked to Ethan who bent his head to address her.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A beer. Whatever they have on draught is fine.”
“That would be a lot,” he responded, “so narrow it down for me. Domestic, American, import?”
“Stout?”
“Sure, if you actually want it,” he returned, his brow furrowing.
“I do,” she assured him, amused with his reaction. “I like full-flavoured brews.”
With a shrug, he turned away from the table to go to the bar, and she grinned at Skip’s scrunched brow. Leaning a little closer to her, he spoke loudly so she’d hear him over the thrumming music.
“My daddy used to say that stuff would put hair on your chest.”
“I can assure you that isn’t true,” she shot back with a playful arch of her brow.
He chuckled. “Honey, you’re a breath of fresh air and let me tell you, the air’s been pretty stale on the ranch for some time now.” His expression grew serious. “Ethan says it ain’t so, but he needs a good woman in his life.”
“Why Skip, I didn’t figure you for a matchmaker.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Thrown by his statement, she was unsure if Ethan felt the same way and knew there wasn’t much she could do about it if he did.
“He’s the closest thing I have to family and he’s a good man. Hard sometimes, don’t I know it, but he’s got a heart the size of the prairies. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and, shit, it isn’t my place to comment on your intentions, but, well, he’d most likely be game for a fling, if that was where your mind was headed, but what he needs is an actual relationship.”
Cocking her head, unsure of why Skip was telling her this, she wondered if he’d seen something from her that indicated she had an interest in Ethan. She didn’t and, while she had to keep reminding herself of that, she couldn’t possibly pursue anything with him. There would come a time she had to move on and saying goodbye wasn’t something she took lightly. Indeed, it was the reason she didn’t develop close relationships, and why she wouldn’t allow it now. Deciding it prudent to shut Skip down before he tried to push Ethan closer to her, she shook her head.
“I just ended a bad marriage. I love that you’re so protective of Ethan, and want the best for him, but it isn’t me. I’m not looking for a relationship. Not with anyone.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised to hear that,” he returned, “and I understand it, even if I do think you two would be good together.” Then he flashed her a grin. “Can’t blame an old man for trying to see young ones happy.”
“Hardly, and I do think it’s sweet. But surely there must be lots of single women in town that would love to be with Ethan,” she remarked. As her eyes took in Ethan’s return journey, how his large frame moved with ease as he negotiated the tightly spaced tables, she hastily added, “he is quite the catch.”
Her peripheral vision caught Skip’s wide smile, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the sexy rancher headed back to her. He was all man, from the top of his cowboy hat to the soles of his boots, and every tantalizing centimeter in between. Tonight, he wore a dark blue shirt that was almost a perfect match to his eyes. Unbuttoned at the throat, it allowed a glimpse of the top swell of undoubtedly glorious pecs, and clung to his impressive biceps. Fitted, his close-to-pitch jeans accentuated his muscled thighs. She hadn’t seen the hat he wore before tonight, a black one, and, with the j
eans, it delivered an eye-catching contrast. A pair of black dress boots completed his ensemble, one that almost had her drooling.
His return journey was disturbed by an incredibly tall man who approached him, and she welcomed the interruption as it would give her time to compose herself. She touched her lips to ensure she hadn’t actually drooled during her intense visual examination of him. He seemed pleased by the appearance of the tall man and then smiled as a second man joined the conversation. When Ethan lifted his chin in her direction, the two men turned to look. Both dark-haired, she was amazed at how handsome they were. What the heck was in the town’s water? She couldn’t ever recall seeing three handsome men gathered at once. The pair of newcomers—brothers she ventured seeing a resemblance between them—nodded and then the trio made their way to the table.
When they arrived, Skip stood and shook their hands as he smiled broadly. He was undoubtedly acquainted with the pair and as he retook his seat, she looked them over again. Despite the height difference in the pair, she was now convinced they were brothers, having identical mouths and similar eyes. The shorter one, although she still estimated his height at around six feet, appeared nervous to her, but she couldn’t mistake the lecherous look on the tall man’s face.
“Zoë, this is Boone Bukowski. Boone and I go way back. Boone, this is Zoë Pennell, the new cook at the ranch.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she informed Boone as she took his offered hand. His large fingers curled around hers, almost obliterating her hand. He was a massive man.
Done a Runner (Wanted Men of Bison Bluffs Book 1) Page 5
