“Thank you. They’re lovely. Come on back to the kitchen.”
Trent followed her and stood at the bar while Annie arranged the flowers in a vase.
“I need to finish our salads,” she told him.
Trent watched as she chopped celery and apples. “You can’t make a Waldorf salad ahead of time,” Annie prattled. “If it sits very long the apples get all soggy.”
Soggy apples! A great conversation starter. Her how-to-talk-to-a-man skills had rusted away.
“Do you cook, Trent?”
“I grill meat—that’s about all. But I’m spoiled. I have Rosa to cook for me.”
Annie stopped chopping at that announcement. Was Rosa Trent’s girlfriend? Or his fiancée? She pushed aside a zing of jealousy.
Not that it mattered, of course. The man’s personal life was none of her concern. “What kind of food does she cook?”
“Enchiladas and tacos. But quesadillas are her specialty. She’s Hispanic.”
Annie plastered on a smile and pretended that it didn’t matter that Trent had a gorgeous Latino girlfriend who cooked incredible food. “That sounds terrific.”
Trent’s expression was one of pure bliss. “Rosa’s awesome. I’m one lucky man.”
While Annie had no claim on this cowboy, and didn’t want one, the satisfied smirk on his face ruffled her emotions. Since she didn’t consider herself a great cook, competing with the fabulous Rosa would make this meal even more challenging.
“Would you take our salads to the breakfast room?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “I’ll pour the tea and we’re set.”
“More tea? Will the scones arrive soon?” he teased.
“It’s Italian day. No scones allowed.”
As Trent pulled out Annie’s chair, she determined to make this afternoon work. She’d steer clear of hot topics, so their conversation would be pleasant. And then she’d send the cowboy back to his ranch. Back to the glorious Rosa, whoever she was.
Trent took a bite. “Mmm. This lasagna’s delicious. Are you an Italian in disguise?”
“Nope. My ancestors came from Switzerland.”
“That explains your blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Trent’s gaze lingered on her eyes and hair longer than Annie thought it should. And to her dismay she felt a shiver of pleasure—another sensation she hadn’t experienced in ages. Her hormones had mutinied the day she got pregnant, she reminded herself. That explained this reaction.
“More cheese bread?”
Trent helped himself to another slice. “Thanks.”
The kitchen fell silent except for the ticking of the wall clock. Eating alone had eroded Annie’s social skills. Finally she said, “I know nothing about you, Trent. Tell me about your family.”
His forehead creased and a flush crept up his neck. “I didn’t really have one. To call my parents dysfunctional is generous. We didn’t go on picnics or chat around the dinner table.”
Annie’d stuck her foot in it. The man had told her he hung out at the Samuels’ because his home life was troubled. So much for avoiding hot topics!
But beneath his gruff tone, Annie sensed the pain Trent harbored. Pain that ran deep. “Do you ever see them?” she asked softly. “Your parents?”
His scowl deepened. “I walked out at sixteen and never looked back.”
“I’m sorry,” Annie murmured. “I shouldn’t pry.”
He shrugged. “My home life forced me to be independent. You could say my folks did me a favor.” But his distressed tone contradicted his words. Trent carried the scars from a difficult childhood.
Annie made several more stabs at conversation but didn’t get far. You flunk How to Make Happy Talk at Lunch, she told herself.
When they were finished, Trent said, “Shall we check out Elaine?”
“Elaine? Who’s Elaine?” Did the man have another woman stashed away somewhere? Was there no end to his exploits?
Trent coughed. “You know—your car.”
Annie felt a surge of relief. “Oh, you mean Eloise. Sure. I’d love to check her out.”
She followed the cowboy outside, and there stood Eloise, who’d had an extreme makeover. “The old girl never looked so good. You didn’t need to wash her. She isn’t used to being clean.”
“Couldn’t help myself. Get in and start her up.”
With great effort, Annie wriggled behind the steering wheel. She rolled down the window, turned the key, and a moment later her car sprang to life. “Is this really my car? Or an Eloise look-alike?”
Trent leaned on the window. “It’s surprising what a fuel pump and some elbow grease can do.”
The scent of his aftershave drifted into the car, and Annie breathed its fresh aroma. While she’d only known Brad’s friend a few days, she felt drawn to the cowboy who’d rehabilitated Eloise. And that was unacceptable.
Time to bring this visit to a close. Annie shut off the engine and climbed out. Then she stuck out her hand to seal their business transaction. “My car hasn’t sounded this good in years. I appreciate all you’ve done.”
When Trent’s hand gripped hers, Annie’s heart skipped a beat. Then another and another. His fingers wrapping around hers felt warm, masculine, and strong. She swallowed hard at the surprising impact of his touch.
“If Eloise acts up again let me know.”
“I’ll do that.” Annie glanced at their hands still locked in a handshake. She cleared her throat. Trent looked down too, cleared his throat, and pulled his hand away. Annie breathed deeply to regain her equilibrium. Good thing the obligatory lunch was over.
It suddenly struck Annie that the man had no transportation. “I’ll drive you home,” she offered.
“I hoped you’d volunteer. My place is quite a hike from here.”
Trent climbed into the passenger seat and they took off. Annie couldn’t wait to drop him at the ranch and terminate this relationship. But she dreaded the possibility of seeing the fantastic Rosa that Trent adored. The one who cooked like a gourmet. And considering Trent’s amazing looks, Rosa was probably a runway model. Annie glanced at her body and sighed. She looked big as a house. Or two!
“Turn left at the next road. I use the term loosely since it’s gravel.”
Annie followed his instructions. They traveled about half a mile when Trent said, “Now turn right. Under that sign.”
The metal sign announced Copper Creek Ranch. Annie drove under it and spotted a house just ahead. She caught her breath when she saw it. Built of logs and ensconced in a grove of maple trees, the house was perfectly designed for this natural setting.
Annie pulled into the parking area, and Trent climbed out and came around to the driver’s side. “Thanks for the great lunch, Annie. I enjoyed it.”
“You’re welcome. Sorry I didn’t have time to make dessert.”
“Hey, I ate enough lasagna for an army. Listen, why don’t you come in for milk and cookies? Rosa whipped up some oatmeal-chocolate-chip wonders this afternoon.”
Yeah, sure, Annie thought. The last thing she wanted was to eat cookies with the Latino beauty Trent idolized.
As they spoke, a dark-haired woman came out the kitchen door waving the telephone. She was plump and pretty. And fifty if she was a day.
“Mr. Trent, the call’s for you. It’s important.”
Annie gazed at the lady. Just how many women were part of Trent Madison’s life? Did he have his own harem, for goodness’ sake?
“Excuse me, Annie, while I take this call.” Trent grabbed the phone and began talking.
The woman walked around to the driver’s side. “You must be Mrs. Samuels. Why don’t you come in for some cookies? I made Mr. Trent’s favorite.”
Annie’s heart lurched. “You made the cookies?”
“You bet. I’m the only woman that cooks in Mr. Trent’s kitchen.”
The glorious light suddenly dawned. “You’re Rosa?”
She smiled. “Rosa Hernandez. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.
Samuels.”
“So you know my name.”
“Of course I do. Mr. Trent talks about you a lot.”
“He does?” Now why did she feel pleased by that information? “Please call me Annie.”
Annie couldn’t help but smile. Rosa was charming and lovely but obviously not Trent’s girlfriend or fiancée. Not that it mattered, of course. She’d settled the score with Trent, and now they’d go their separate ways. That suited Annie just fine.
“Have a snack before you leave. You’re eating for three now.”
“So you know about my twins.”
“Mr. Trent told me. Come into the kitchen, Miss Annie. Let me spoil you a little.”
Annie couldn’t resist the woman’s warmth and friendliness. And a little spoiling sounded like heaven.
She turned off Eloise. “Thanks. I’d love some dessert.”
“So how was lunch?” Rosa asked as the two of them walked toward the ranch house.
“Quiet, I’m afraid. I asked the wrong questions.”
“Mr. Trent is a private man. And while he’s gruff at times, he has a heart of gold.” Rosa beamed as she spoke the words. Obviously she thought as much of Trent as he did of her.
Annie was ushered into a large country kitchen. A trestle table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by an assortment of chairs. Rosa installed Annie in one while Trent stood outside talking on the phone.
The kitchen felt comfortable but was devoid of knickknacks. A no-frills kind of place. But the smell of fresh cookies made it homey and welcoming.
A short time later, Trent entered the house. He glanced from Annie to Rosa and back again. “Sorry, ladies, but the horse I sold my neighbor is out of control. I need to help out.”
Rosa smirked and waved her hands in the air. “Just go. I’ll take care of Miss Annie.”
When Trent’s gaze caught Annie’s, a flurry of excitement hit her with surprising force. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m leaving anyway.”
Trent raked a hand through his hair and looked confused. No doubt he wanted this encounter to end as much as she did. After all, she’d been figuratively dumped into his lap. He’d fulfill his obligation to Brad and move on.
Trent cleared his throat. “Don’t forget to call if you have more car trouble.”
“I will.”
“OK then.” He slipped on his Stetson and headed for the back door.
After he left, Annie felt a blend of relief and disappointment. Since their lunch conversation had hit so many roadblocks, it might have been nice to talk over dessert. But going their separate ways—as soon as possible—was the best option.
Rosa placed a plate of cookies on the table along with two glasses of milk. “Mind if I join you?”
“I’d love it.” They’d just started chatting when the phone rang again and Rosa went to answer it.
Things work out as they should, Annie told herself. Talking with Rosa beat spending more time with the strong-willed cowboy. Besides, the last thing Annie needed was another man in her life. While part of her missed Brad, she didn’t miss the way he treated her. And being on her own gave her a second chance at life.
Trent only contacted you out of obligation. Her conscience made another appearance. But her conscience was right on target. Trent was doing payback. The rancher’s true goal in life was living a reclusive lifestyle.
Empty houses weren’t the worst obstacles to face. And if Annie had an ounce of sense left, she’d stay miles away from Trent Madison and his tantalizing aftershave. She couldn’t let her feelings of attraction grow. She’d abort them right away.
Annie squared her shoulders and vowed to do just that.
“So did you cook for your cowboy yesterday?” asked Annie’s friend Sara, who’d called for her daily update. Annie had been filling Sara in on her adventures with Trent Madison.
“He’s not my cowboy! But I did feed the man a great Italian meal and sent him on his way.”
“You don’t plan to see him again? The superhero who offered to help you any way he could?” Disbelief echoed in Sara’s voice.
Annie sniffed. “I don’t need a man to look after me. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, honey. I just don’t want you to have to, that’s all.”
A stab of sadness tugged at Annie’s heart. Being left alone hadn’t been her choice, either. While her life with Brad was full of difficulty and disappointment, making every single decision for herself and two babies seemed insurmountable.
“Don’t worry, Sara. I’ll make this work.”
“If anyone can do it, you can.”
The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “Uh-oh,” Annie said. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Go see who it is. That cowboy gave you quite a scare the other day.”
“Hold on a second.”
Annie crept into the living room and pulled the curtain aside. As she looked out, her breath got stuck in her throat. There he stood again—her self-appointed rescuer. While Annie had tried to force closure by feeding Trent a good meal, closure had boomeranged. The cowboy kept coming back. Like a toothache. Or an overdue bill.
“It’s him,” she whispered into the phone. “What should I do?”
Sara giggled. “Go talk to him. And call me later.”
The phone clicked and Sara was gone. With a healthy dose of reluctance, Annie opened the door. Trent Madison had the audacity to look every bit as tan, handsome, and determined as he did the first time she saw him. He tipped his Stetson. “‘Mornin’, Annie.”
“Good morning. Didn’t I feed you enough lunch yesterday?”
A grin turned up the corners of his mouth and revived those laugh lines. “More than enough. I stopped by to make good on my promise.”
“What promise is that?”
“To paint the nursery. May I come in?” He bent down and picked up two gallon buckets of paint.
The man was relentless! Annie crossed her arms in front of her, intending to barricade the door. She was certainly big enough to block the entrance. “You may not. I told you painting the nursery wasn’t necessary.”
“Good thing I didn’t believe you. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
Annie had to jump out of the way as the impertinent cowboy stormed past her. He was a man with a mission. And it would take more than cautioning words to stop him.
Annie’s annoyance turned to anger as he headed for the nursery. “Stop right there,” she shouted. “Just stop right there.”
Trent turned to face her. A frown pleated his forehead and his smoky eyes interrogated her. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.
Annie huffed and puffed. Late-stage pregnancy played havoc with her lung capacity. And now that she had Trent’s attention, she didn’t know what to say. “I-I-I-” she stammered. For the life of her, she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.
Trent set down the paint cans and pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I suppose I should have asked if I could come. But you would have refused. Look, Annie, the babies’ room needs a coat of paint. Your twins deserve to come home to a fresh bedroom. I promise not to get in your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”
It was the longest speech the man had made. Without another word, he picked up the paint cans and headed for the nursery.
Annie sputtered a little more and stared daggers at the cowboy’s disappearing backside. She’d have to connect her brain and her mouth if she wanted to influence an immovable force like Trent Madison.
CHAPTER 4
“I’VE LOST CONTROL of my life,” Annie mumbled as Trent mounted the stairs and disappeared into the nursery. “I don’t know who’s in charge, but it certainly isn’t me.” She’d thought that with Brad gone she’d be the decision maker. And she had been, until this take-charge cowboy came into her life.
Trent thundered down the stairs, took one look at Annie, who stood right where he’d left her, and stopped in his tracks. “You look pale. Are yo
u feeling all right?”
She nodded, not ready to say actual words to the man.
Trent interrogated her with those analytical eyes. “You’re not having pains or anything?”
He looked so concerned that she finally said, “No pains.” Two words. She owed him that.
He studied her a moment longer and then seemed convinced. “I’ll grab the supplies from my truck. Be right back.”
Annie headed to the kitchen to make coffee. She would pretend Trent Madison wasn’t upstairs. And that he hadn’t barged into her house like a crazed shopper the day after Thanksgiving.
Did she hear whistling? She listened more closely. Yep, it was definitely whistling. The man probably felt proud about mowing her down like a field of tall grass. Hmmph.
Ignore him, Annie told herself. She knew she tended to overreact. Brad had told her so often enough. Was she overreacting now? Maybe she shouldn’t consider the man painting the nursery as the archenemy.
She busied herself rearranging a cabinet. Then she alphabetized her spices and straightened the silverware drawer. But the whistling continued, reminding her that Trent had invaded her house. Ignoring the tough-as-nails cowboy was like disregarding sky-splitting lightning or an oncoming tornado!
Annie’s curiosity was killing her. She’d love to see the transformation of the nursery. She’d always hated the salmon paint, although she’d never tell Trent.
Could she sneak upstairs and peek at the room without him seeing her? She laughed. Since she weighed as much as a baby elephant, sneaking wasn’t an option.
An idea dawned. She’d take him coffee. Then he wouldn’t know she was so curious about the nursery walls that she couldn’t wait another minute.
Trent took a long swipe with the roller. Fortunately his full-steam-ahead approach worked and Annie hadn’t banned him from the house. Or had him arrested for breaking and entering. That spunky woman would stop at nothing to get her way!
He hadn’t heard a sound from downstairs in over an hour and basked in the silence. At this rate he’d finish in an hour or so and head back to the ranch. He smiled, realizing he was making a dent in fulfilling Brad’s request. And if Annie delivered boys, they would have eventually resented their mother for making them sleep in a girly bedroom.
Daddy with a Deadline Page 4
