by Donna Alward
“Thank you.” Martha started for the doorway. “There’s a classic movie on tonight and I don’t want to miss it.”
The woman slipped off her sunflower-covered apron and hustled out of the room without a backward glance.
Cash’s gray eyes filled with concern. “Do you think she’s okay?”
“I don’t really know her, but she seems okay to me. Why do you ask?”
“It’s not like her to leave the work to others. She’s normally a very stubborn woman who won’t rest until the house is in order.”
During the meal, Meghan had noticed the kitchen needed some sprucing up, and the windows needed to be wiped down inside and out. Maybe his grandmother needed some help around the place. A plan formed in her mind as to how she could carry her weight while at the Tumbling Weed and keep from dwelling too much on her problems.
“Maybe she figured there was enough help in the kitchen and she wasn’t needed. I wouldn’t worry. Just be glad she’s taking a moment to rest. She deserves it.”
“She certainly does. I’ve tried to get her to slow down for years now, but instead I think she does more. Heck, a lot of days she invites the ranch hands to the house for lunch. And then she fights with me when I insist on helping with the clean-up. And when any of the neighbors need a helping hand she’s the first to volunteer, whether it’s to cook for another family or to care for a sick person.”
“Your grandmother is amazing. I wish I still had my grandmothers, but one died before I was born and the other passed on when I was in grade school.”
“Gram is definitely a force to be reckoned with. Maybe you can help keep an eye on her while you’re here? Make sure there’s nothing wrong? As you can tell, I’m not good at reading women. I had no idea that you were still sick.” He glanced down, avoiding her stare. “I thought you didn’t like my grandmother’s cooking.”
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone and then lowered her voice so as not to be overheard. “Actually, I was going to suggest that I could earn my keep by being housekeeper and helping with the cooking. I’m thinking it’s been a while since your grandmother’s house has been washed top to bottom, so I could clean here. It would give me something to do all day.”
“I don’t know.”
She pursed her lips together and counted to ten. “I’m not some spoiled actress. I’m a local television cook. Period. I still do everything for myself.”
He stepped closer. “Then I’d say you have yourself a job. Do as much as Gram will let you.”
With him standing right in front of her, she was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze. When he wasn’t scowling at her he really was quite handsome, with those slate-gray eyes, a prominent nose, stubble layering his tanned cheeks and a squared jaw.
And then there was his mouth. She found herself staring at his lips, wondering what his kisses would be like. Short and sweet? Or long and spicy? When his mouth bowed into a smile she lifted her gaze and realized she’d been busted. She grew uncomfortably warm, but she didn’t let on.
This was a way to earn her keep and extend her time here, allowing her a chance to think. She liked the idea. This way she wouldn’t feel indebted to the sexy cowboy who made her feel a little off-center when he stood so close to her—like he was doing now.
* * *
The next morning Meghan awoke to a knock. Had she slept in again? Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up in bed to find herself surrounded by darkness.
It was still the middle of the night. What in the world was going on?
“Cash, is that you?”
“Who else were you expecting?”
“No one.” She yawned and stretched, enjoying the comfort of the big bed. “It must be the middle of the night.”
“It won’t be dark for long. You planning to sleep the day away?”
“The day? The sun hasn’t even climbed out of bed.”
“It’ll be up before you know it. That’s why a rancher has to get an early jump on the day.”
Meghan groaned. “Fine. I’ll be downstairs in a half hour.”
“Ten minutes, tops.”
“Ten?” she screeched before scrambling out of bed. The coldness from the bare wood floor seeped up her legs and shocked her sluggish body to life.
She didn’t care what he said. She was getting a shower. Otherwise there was no way she’d make it through the day. She rushed into a hot steamy shower before sorting out a pair of blue jeans and a T-shirt, both of which were a little big. She supposed in her current condition that was a good thing. She pressed her hand to her almost non-existent baby bump. Shortly after she returned home she’d most likely be getting herself a whole new wardrobe—maternity clothes, here I come.
The assortment of supplies in the bag was quite extensive. Meghan located a hairbrush and ponytail holders. She made quick use of them, pulling her unruly curls back. Without worrying about her lack of make-up, she ran downstairs.
Cash reached for the doorknob. “It’s about time.”
“I hurried,” she protested, still feeling a bit damp from her shower. “Especially considering it’s the middle of the night.”
He chuckled, warming her insides. “Hardly. Gram probably already has breakfast started.”
“Well, then, lead the way. We don’t want to keep her waiting.” And she had a job to do—a means to earn her keep.
“Are you feeling better this morning?”
“Much better. The sleep really helped.”
He studied her. “Your stomach is okay?”
She nodded, touched by his concern. “In fact I’m ravenous. Now, quit with the overprotective act and get moving.”
He grinned at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her empty stomach did a somersault. How could his smile do such crazy things to her insides? She refused to dwell on its meaning as she rushed to the pickup. The short ride to Martha’s house was quiet. Without caffeine, Meghan lacked the energy to make idle chitchat, even though Cash’s mood appeared to have improved.
When he pulled to a stop in front of the steps leading to his grandmother’s house Meghan glanced over to him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
“Later. Right now I have the animals to tend to.”
“But don’t you need something in your stomach?”
“I had a mug of stiff black coffee while I waited for you.” He patted his stomach and rubbed. “It’s the fuel this cowboy runs on.”
Meghan scrunched up her nose. “I never learned how to drink that stuff straight up. I always add milk and sugar.”
“Gram should have everything you need to make yourself a cup. I’ll see you soon. Remember our deal.”
“I won’t forget. Your grandmother is my first priority.” She didn’t want to think about her other priorities—not at this unseemly hour. “Maybe later I can help you in the barn.”
“And break those pretty nails? I don’t think so.”
She held out her hands and for the first time noticed she was still wearing Harold’s ring. She wanted to rip it from her finger and toss it out the window, but instead she balled up her hands and stuffed them back in her lap. Disposing of the ring now would only evoke a bunch of questions from Cash—questions she didn’t want to answer.
“My nails aren’t long. They can’t be. Remember I’m a cook?”
“Long or short, you weren’t born and bred to this kind of work. A pampered star like yourself will be much better off in the kitchen with my grandmother.”
“I’m not pampered.”
She pursed her lips together. She didn’t like being told what she could and couldn’t do. Harold had told her she needed to be a television personality because she was too pretty to hide in some kitchen. Looking back now, she wondered if he hadn’t pushed her into taking the televisi
on spot, if she’d have chosen that career path for herself. Her love had always been for the creative side of cooking, and it rubbed her the wrong way to have recipes provided for her merely to demonstrate.
“I’ll bet I can keep up with you in the barn,” she said. Her pricked ego refused to back down.
He raised his cowboy hat. “You think so, huh?”
“I do.”
Humor reflected in his eyes. “Maybe we’ll put you to the test, but right now you’re needed in the kitchen.”
“I know. I haven’t forgotten our deal. But that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I can do.”
She hopped out of the truck and sent the door swinging shut. With her hands clenched, she marched up the walk. Just because she hadn’t been fortunate enough to be born into such a beautiful ranch with dozens of horses, it didn’t mean she couldn’t learn her way around the place.
The time had come to prove to herself that she could stand on her own two feet. With a baby on the way, she needed to know she could handle whatever challenges life threw at her.
If earning her keep meant cleaning up after this cowboy and his horses, she’d do it. After all, it couldn’t be that hard—could it?
CHAPTER SIX
CASH SAT ASTRIDE Emperor, a feisty black stallion, as the mid-morning sun beat down on his back. He brought the stallion to a stop in the center of the small arena. He’d spent a good part of the morning working with this horse in preparation for its new owner.
The stallion lowered his head, yanking on the reins. Cash urged the horse forward, which in turn raised Emperor’s head, allowing him to retain his hold on the reins. Cash’s injured shoulder started to throb, but he refused to quit. This horse was smart and beautiful. He just needed to remember who was the boss.
They started circling the arena again. The horse’s hooves thudded against the dry earth, kicking up puffs of dirt that trailed them around the small arena. With the horse at last following directions, Cash’s thoughts strayed back to the redhead with the curvy figure. It wasn’t the first time she’d stumbled into his thoughts. In fact she was on his mind more than he wanted to admit.
“Nice horse. Can I ride him?”
The lyrical chime of a female voice roused him from his thoughts. Cash slowed Emperor to a stop and turned. He immediately noticed Meg’s pink and white cowboy hat—the one he’d picked out for her. She looked so cute—too cute for his own comfort.
She wouldn’t be classified as skinny, which suited him just fine. When he pulled a woman into his arms he liked to feel more than skin and bones. But she wasn’t overweight either. She was someplace between the two—someplace he’d call perfect.
His pulse climbed. All he could envision was wrapping his arms around her and seeing if her lips were as soft as they appeared.
Meghan rested her hands on the fence rail. “After that challenge you threw down this morning about how I couldn’t be a cowgirl because I wasn’t born on a ranch, I came to prove you wrong.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at the fierce determination reflected in her green eyes. This woman was certainly a little spitfire. And at the same time he found her to be a breath of fresh air.
“You wouldn’t want to ride Emperor. He can be a handful. If you’re serious, I’ll find you a gentler mount.” He turned Emperor loose in the pasture and joined her by the fence. “But what about our arrangement? Shouldn’t you be helping my grandmother?”
“I did. After we cleaned up the breakfast dishes I ran the vacuum, even though Martha complained the entire time about how she could do it all herself. And then I dusted—before your grandmother shooed me out of the house, insisting her morning cooking shows were coming on and she didn’t want to be disturbed. I’ll go back and do more later.”
“My grandmother does like her routines.”
Meg climbed up and perched on the white rail fence. Her left hand brushed his arm as she got settled. He noticed something was different about her, but he couldn’t quite figure it out—then it dawned on him. She’d taken off the flashy diamond. The urge to question her about the missing ring hovered at the back of his throat but he swallowed down his curiosity—it shouldn’t matter to him.
“The horse you were riding is a beauty. You’re lucky to own him.”
“He isn’t mine.”
Her brows lifted. “He isn’t?”
“No. I train horses and sell them. So technically he’s mine, but only until the buyer shows up later this week to collect him.”
“That must be tough. Spending so much time with the horses and then having to part with them.”
He shrugged. “It’s a way of life I’ve grown up around. You have to keep your emotions at bay when it comes to business. Now, don’t get me wrong. I have my own horses and there’s no way I’d part with them. They’re family.”
“I’ve heard about men and their horses.” She eyed him speculatively.
“Yep, we’re thick as thieves.”
“Are you up for that ride now?” she asked.
Her jean-clad thigh had settled within an inch of his arm. It’d be so easy to turn around and nestle up between her thighs. He’d pull her close and then he’d steal a kiss from this woman whose image in lacy lingerie still taunted his thoughts.
What in the world was he thinking? He bowed his head and gave it a shake, clearing the ridiculous thoughts. It was then that he noticed her old cowboy boots. His grandmother must have lent them to her. He considered explaining how he needed to keep on working, but he liked her company—even if it were purely platonic—and he didn’t want her to leave quite yet.
“I’ll give you a quick tour of the ranch.”
She leveled him a direct stare and then a smile tugged at those sweet lips. “I already like what I’ve seen.”
His heart rammed into his windpipe. Meg’s eyes filled with merriment as her smile broadened. Was she flirting with him? Impossible. She was only being friendly. After all, she was still hung up on what’s-his-name. And that was for the best.
Cash cleared his throat, anxious to change the conversation to a safer subject. “We’ll start here. This is the arena where I do a lot of work with the horses. And over there—” he pointed to an area behind the barn “—is a smaller corral where we break in the young ones.”
“Can I watch you sometime?”
“Sure.” He longed to show her some of his skills. He cleared his throat. “And this way leads to the barn.”
Out of habit, he worked his sore shoulder in a circular motion. The persistent dull ache was still there—it was always there, sometimes better and sometimes worse. Right now it was a bit better.
“When did you hurt your shoulder?” Meg asked as she rushed to catch up with him.
He didn’t like talking about that time in his life. When he’d been discharged from the hospital he’d made tracks, putting miles between him and the press. All he’d wanted to do was forget the whole scene and the events that had led up to his accident. And it wasn’t something he wanted to delve into with this television personality. Sure, she was just a cook, and highly unlikely to be able to use any of the information he gave her, but she was closely linked to people who would love a chance to revisit the scandal. After all, it wasn’t as if it was ancient history. It’d only happened a little more than three months ago.
He carefully chose his words. “It happened at my last rodeo in Austin.”
“You’re a rodeo cowboy?” A note of awe rang out in her voice.
“Not anymore. I walked away from it a few months back.”
“Did your decision have something to do with your shoulder?”
He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“What happened?”
“I made good time out of the gate, but the steer I drew stumbled during the takedown and we hit th
e ground together. Hard. I landed on my shoulder at exactly the wrong angle.”
“Ouch.” Meg winced. “Shouldn’t you be resting and letting it heal?”
“I did rest after the surgery.”
“Surgery? What did they have to do?”
“Pop a pin in to hold everything together. Not a big deal.” He knew guys with far worse injuries, but it was best not to mention that to Meg. “I did my stint in rehab and now I’m back on horseback.”
“I can’t imagine loving something so much that you would take such risks.”
“Don’t you love being in front of the cameras, cooking up something new for your fans?”
Seconds passed, as though she were trying to make up her mind. “The fans are great. It’s the rest of it that gets old. Watching what I eat because the camera puts fifteen pounds on me is pure drudgery. And it’s frustrating being told what will and what won’t be in each segment instead of having a voice in the show’s content.”
“I thought the stars were in charge?”
She shook her head. “Maybe if you’re Paula Deen or Rachael Ray, but not for some no-name on a local network.”
So she wasn’t as big a star as his grandmother had built her up to be? Interesting. He wondered what else he had got wrong about her.
“If you were no longer a television personality, what would you do with your life?”
She paused and stared at him. Their gazes locked and his heart thump-thumped in his chest. His eyes dipped to her lips. What would it be like to kiss her? Maybe if he swooped in for a little smooch then he’d realize his imagination had blown her appeal way out of proportion.
“I...I don’t know.” Pink tinged her cheeks.
Could she read his mind? Was she having the same heady thoughts? Would it be so wrong to steal a kiss?
She glanced away. “Right now I’m rethinking everything. With my marriage being off, my life is about to take a very different direction, and I have to start planning what I’m going to do next.”
