He stepped further into the room. “I thought I made it clear that you didn’t have to cook breakfast this morning, since you used your day off to go with Claire. I know you got in late.”
“Were you still awake?” she asked in surprise.
He nodded. “I didn’t get up, because I knew Claire would think I stayed awake to check up on her.”
Alex eyes sparkled. “Didn’t you?”
He shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell her that she figured in his worries as much as his sister. “Was the shopping trip successful?”
Her smile broadened. “Oh, yes, it was. She bought a beautiful blue dress that’s going to be just perfect. You’ll have to get her to model it for you.”
“I will.” He walked further into the kitchen until he stood beside her. “One more thing.”
She looked up at him with questions in her eyes.
“You washed my clothes.” He said it like an accusation, but that was on purpose.
Her chin lifted a fraction of an inch. “How do you know Claire didn’t?” -
He stepped closer, invading her space. “Did she?”
She struggled with that a moment, then shook her head. “I was vacuuming your room and they were in the way, there on the floor of your closet. I threw them in the washing machine so I could get to the dirt beneath.”
“What were you doing in my room in the first place? Cleaning upstairs is—”
“Claire’s job. So fire me,” she said smugly.
He wanted to laugh, and choke her, and pick her up by her slender waist and swing her around in the air. Most of all, he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he stared into her defiant eyes. “Don’t wash my clothes again, Alex.”
“Or what?”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Or they’ll be hell to pay...in more ways than one.”
Neither of them moved—even to breathe—for a space of time that stretched into eternity.
Alex was the first to break free of the spell. She stepped back and tore her eyes from his. “Yes, sir!”
As he turned on his heel and left the kitchen, he heard her add, “Mr. Hell.”
Alex switched off the vacuum cleaner suddenly and cocked her head toward the front window of the parlor. The rumble she’d heard above the roar of the vacuum wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
Since visitors never came to the front door, she hurried to the kitchen and peered out the window.
The rig sitting in front of the barn looked like it was on steroids. The truck was fire-engine red and looked big enough to seat four cowboys, which meant about six regular people. The bed was long and widened to accommodate four rear tires. The matching horse trailer attached was big enough to drive her car right in.
This had to be Travis.
A tall, lanky cowboy hopped out of the cab and called to someone down the drive. A minute later Hank rode into view.
Alex was relieved she didn’t have to greet the legendary member of the Eden clan by herself. Then she remembered the vacuum cleaner.
With a tiny “Eek,” she started to run into the parlor to hide the incriminating evidence, but she stopped at the door. To heck with how Hank felt about her cleaning. If she wanted to vacuum or mop or wash clothes, she was going to do it and that was that. He could just get over it.
She returned to the window. The Eden brothers were unloading a couple of horses from Travis’s rig. The men wouldn’t be in for at least half an hour.
Should she go outside and welcome the wandering Eden? She wasn’t exactly family, to go traipsing out there to greet him. This was when she felt the difference most keenly. Though every person at the Garden had made special efforts to make her feel at home, she wasn’t a permanent part of the Eden family—and never would be.
Then she remembered Derek saying Travis would be driving straight through from Kansas, because of the horses. He must be tired, and if he were like every other cowboy she’d met, he’d be hungry.
Always confident in the kitchen, Alex set about making Travis a hearty late lunch. On second thought, she threw enough on for Hank. Cowboys could always eat.
The back door announced their entrance with a loud squeak as she flipped a minute steak. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned toward the door.
“Something sure smells good,” said a voice a few shades lower than Hank’s.
“Looks like Alex saw you coming,” Hank told his brother. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“As a bull in a blizzard,” came the reply.
Then they filled the doorway. Hank swept off his hat as his eyes locked on to hers. Their gaze held several seconds, then he slapped his brother on the back. “Alex, this is my brother Travis. Bull rider, calf roper, all around cowboy. Travis, this is Alex Miller, our new cook.”
Alex knew she could’ve picked Travis Eden out in a crowd. He was a younger version of Hank—tall as the Continental Divide with shoulders just as wide, eyes the color of the Wyoming sky, and long legs slightly bowed by constant horseback riding. There were only three differences that Alex could see—Travis seemed to be a bare inch taller, his hair was several shades lighter, and his jawline was so square, it might have been shaped with a blunt instrument.
Alex walked around the kitchen table and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Travis.”
Surprise still on his face, Travis met her halfway. “Well, I’ll be hog-tied and branded. Someone sure made me look like the south end of a north-bound cow, and I know exactly which sister it was. Claire made me believe ‘Alex’ was an old cowpoke good for nothing but the chow wagon.” He took her hand but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips. “I am more than pleased to meet you, pretty lady. Hank, why didn’t you tell me the new cook was a rodeo queen?”
Alex felt warmth creep into her cheeks both at the compliment and the glint in his eyes. She pulled her hand from his. “I’m not any kind of queen. I’m just the cook, the temporary cook.”
“Temporary? Hank, you mean you’re gonna let this pretty lady go?” Travis sniffed deeply. “Smells like she’s the queen of grub.”
Alex wrinkled her nose. “What an ugly word for food.”
“Grub isn’t an ugly word to a cowboy, sweetheart,” Travis told her. “It’s what gets us through the day. And yours smells like the stuff cowboy dreams are made of.”
Alex waved him off. “This is just something I whipped up because I figured you’d be hungry. Just wait until the meal I fix tonight. I’ll have you drooling in your sleep.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to cook to have me drooling. My tongue’s hanging so far out now, you could wind it up and use it for a bedroll.”
Instinctively recognizing an irrepressible flirt—never to be taken seriously—Alex smiled at his outrageous statement. “You must be tired after your long drive, Travis. Why don’t you go freshen up? It’ll be another fifteen minutes before this is ready to eat.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I believe I will.” He turned to his brother. “You sticking around?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Hank nod, then watch Travis leave after a few more bantering comments. Then Hank’s eyes fell on her. As she sliced a loaf of freshly baked bread, Alex could feel them follow her every move.
Finally unable to bear the uncomfortable silence, she looked up and asked, “What?”
Hank’s eyes blazed across the kitchen. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Then he jerked the brim of his hat down another inch, turned on his heel and left the room.
“Rudy Monroe offered me twenty-two thousand for that heeling mare I’ve been using,” Travis told Hank over coffee. They sat alone in the dining room, at opposite ends of the table. “He and I got a check team roping down in Ardmore. Said he’d never seen a horse so responsive.”
Hank’s brows lifted. “So why are you still hauling her around? That’s the most we’ve ever been offered for a horse.”
Travis shrugged. “I told him I needed to get your okay. You trained her.”
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“I remember Rudy being a damn good cowboy. Has he changed?”
“No, I wouldn’t worry about selling her to him. I just wanted to clear it with you. We’re partners in this, after all.”
Hank leaned back in his seat and rubbed his jaw. He’d never thought of Travis as his partner, but what else could you call it? Hank trained roping horses and Travis took them on the road until someone bought them. It hadn’t started out that way. Hank had given Travis a couple of roping horses when he’d left for the national circuit. Travis sold one nine months into the first season, gave Hank two-thirds of the money, and took another horse Hank had trained. The same thing happened again, then again, then again. They’d sold fifteen horses during the past five years. Nine of them went to the national finals with the cowboys that bought them. Four won championships.
“It’s fine by me. Sell it to him.”
Travis nodded. “I’ll call him later. I think he’s going to be in Phoenix.”
Hank considered Travis’s words. Partner. Could he work with a partner? He was used to taking charge, making decisions that affected the lives of those around him with precious little input from them. But, hell, this was his brother. Travis owned one-third of the Garden, though he showed very little interest in anything on it except the roping horses Hank trained.
Hank cleared his throat. “From now on, you make the decision whether to sell. I trust your judgment. Let’s get the money when they’re willing to part with it.”
Travis stared at him for a long moment, then nodded again. “I will.”
A comfortable moment of silence stretched between them as they both sipped their coffee. Travis kicked out the chair next to him, reared back his own, and settled his boots on the seat. Fashioned from bright blue leather, the boots had yellow eagles and red flames dancing up the sides. Travis had always been the flashy Eden.
“Spindel having team roping this weekend?” Hank asked into the silence.
Travis shrugged. “He always does.”
Hank leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table. “You want to enter with me?”
Travis’s chair fell with a thud. He stared at Hank, openmouthed. “You mean it?”
Hank gave him a hard look. “I always mean what I say.”
“Sure, Hank. I know that.” He frowned. “It’s a PRCA rodeo, you know.”
Hank knew what his brother was asking. Only card-carrying members of the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association could enter sanctioned rodeos. He took out his wallet, drew out a card and tossed it down the table.
Travis picked it up, then looked at him in amazement. “You never let your membership lapse. Why? You haven’t entered a rodeo since Dad and Momma died.”
Hank shrugged and reached for his card. “Just never did.”
“Hell, Spindel’s gonna shoot into orbit when I tell him. The legendary Hank Eden making a comeback at his rodeo. Mind if I ask another why? Like—why now?” .
Hank couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering toward the stairs, where Alex and Claire had gone up half an hour ago. “I’ve been thinking about getting back in it.”
Travis looked between him and the stairs. “Does this have something to do with the lovely Miss Alex?”
“Hell, no!” Hank cleared his throat to dull the sharpness. In a slightly more reasonable tone, he asked, “Why do you say that?”
“The men looked mighty shiny tonight—right down to their boots. Somehow, I don’t think they cleaned up for my benefit. From that and from the way you’ve been acting, I’d say Miss Alex is more than just the new cook.”
Hank swallowed the last of his coffee and furrowed his brows at his brother. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, big brother. You’ve done everything but put a brand on her.”
Hank rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never talked about any relationship with his brother. Hell, he’d never discussed anything with his brother. Like Alex pointed out, he’d handed down edicts and expected them to be obeyed. But for the first time in his life he needed someone to discuss these crazy feelings with. Maybe if he talked them through, he’d see how stupid he was being and get over them. He sure couldn’t discuss Alex with the hands. But Travis? Could be stop thinking of Travis as his baby brother and accept him as a friend and partner?
Hank took a long look at Travis, assessing him as a confidant. What he saw gave him a mild surprise. Sometime during the four years he’d been on the rodeo circuit, Travis had become a man. Why hadn’t Hank noticed? Travis looked like their dad in pictures taken when John Eden was young—except Travis smiled.
Open up, Alex had urged him that night in the kitchen. With her it hadn’t been so hard. With her there wasn’t a history of acting as a surrogate father. And she’d be gone in a few weeks. Travis would be around the rest of his life. But maybe that was the reason he should confide in Travis. Travis was his brother, after all. And Hank couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have as a friend.
He leaned forward in his chair and cleared his throat. “She’s driving me crazy.”
Travis’s brow shot up in surprise at this disclosure, but he recovered quickly. “Hell, I’d be worried about you if she didn’t. A woman who looks like that, living here in the house with you?”
Hank’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you mean by that? She’s not that kind of woman, Travis, so you just keep your paws to yourself.”
The younger brother held up his hands in defense. “Don’t go getting riled up. I don’t want Alex. But you’ve sure got it bad.”
Hank ran a hand down his face. His anger subsided as quickly as it flared up. Jealous. Of his little brother. Damn, damn and damn again. He might be further gone than he’d thought. But he asked hopefully, “So you think it’s just a bad case of lust?”
“Hell, I don’t know after that. Sounds to me like Alex has been doing a little branding of her own.” Travis shifted in his seat. “But what’s the problem? It’s high time you got married.”
“No!” Hank winced at his own outburst. Bringing his voice back to normal, he continued, “She’s leaving in a couple of weeks. She’s got a job in California, studying under some fancy chef. She’s just here because her car broke down and she needed the money.”
“And you haven’t been able to talk her out of it?”
“I haven’t tried.”
“Why the hell not? What have you got to lose?”
Hank hooked an arm over the back of the chair. What did he have to lose? A shot at a world championship and a gold buckle along with it. The carefree life of a rodeo cowboy. The dreams of a lifetime. That’s all.
But he couldn’t tell Travis that without telling him about selling the Garden.
He frowned as he remembered Alex’s advice about letting people know what was going on. And now he had an offer that he could definitely live with. But the real estate agent said they could get more, so why tell them until things were final? It would only be another month or so. His brother and sister didn’t want to be bothered with the details of selling. Neither of them cared a hoot what happened to the ranch. They’d made that clear enough.
Hank ran a hand back through his hair. He should’ve known talking to his brother wasn’t going to solve anything. Travis couldn’t help the situation with Alex. Hell, nobody could. He was damned if he pursued Alex and would feel damned if he didn’t.
“Hank? Travis? Y’all still there?”
Hank started as Alex’s call sliced through his thoughts.
“We’re here,” Travis called back.
“Claire’s on her way down.”
“We’re ready, beautiful lady,” Travis said as they rose from the table and made their way to the bottom of the stairs.
Alex smiled down at him and amended, “Beautiful ladies.” She descended the stairs with the air of a princess. When she reached the bottom step, she turned with a flourish of her arm. “I now present the charming, the brilliant, the beautiful... Claire Eden.”
After a breathles
s moment, a vision appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in a floor-length gown of deep blue that rose from a wide, flowing skirt to a sleeveless bodice that closely fit generous curves. Claire’s dark hair had been swept up into an artful arrangement of curls and her face made up to perfection. She looked down on them with a half-haughty, half-uncertain expression, this angel that was his sister.
Hank was amazed. Just like his brother had grown up without his having noticed, so had Claire. Seeing her now, Hank had no doubt she was a woman.
“I thought you said Claire was coming,” Travis said to Alex with a near-serious expression. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to this lovely lady?”
Claire’s face broke into a flattered, flustered grin. “It’s me, Travis. I think.”
“Of course it’s you,” Alex insisted. “You’re beautiful.”
Claire descended the stairs like a beauty queen. When she stood next to Alex, she lifted her eyes to Hank’s. “Is it okay?”
Hank felt his throat choke at her nervous question. “Honey, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He extended his hand. “May I have the first dance?”
“What—now?” Claire asked.
“Why not, kiddo?” Travis threw up his hands. “Does the stereo work?”
Claire nodded. “Alex and I have been wearing out Mom’s old Patsy Cline records while we clean.”
“I’ve got some tapes in the truck. Be back in a sec.”
Hank offered one arm to Claire, who took it with a smile, then the other to Alex, who shook her head, blushing. Determined, Hank stood patiently with his arm extended.
Claire looked behind him. “Come on, Alex. It’ll be fun.”
Alex shook her head. “No, this is a family moment. I’ll be in the way.”
“You think I’m going to be the only one dancing with these two?” Claire asked. “Oh, no. When cowboys want to dance, they dance until their partners drop. You’re coming, and that’s that.”
Alex sent a worried glance to Hank, and he smiled to reassure her. “You heard the lady. You’re not getting out of this.”
Home Is Where Hank Is (Cowboys To The Rescue 1) Page 10
