by Donna Alward
Secretly, he thought this was for the best. Meg could find a better job—a more stable one. A job that would make her happy.
He glanced over at her. The light had gone out in her eyes. It knocked him for a loop. Meg was a gutsy woman. Someone he’d come to admire for her spunk and determination. Until now, he’d never seen her utterly give up—not even after the father of her baby dumped her at the altar. This reaction had to be some sort of shock. She’d snap out of it. He just might have to give her a nudge.
“Don’t let this defeat you,” he said with conviction. “You can make new plans. Let me help you.”
Her chin lifted. “I have to do this on my own.”
“But why? I’ve got friends and they’ve got friends. Surely someone needs a fabulous chef?”
She shook her head. “I let myself rely on Harold and look where that got me. This time I have to do it my way.”
Was she comparing him to Harold? The thought stung. He was nothing like that self-righteous, pompous jerk. He wanted to call her out on her comment, but the wounded look in her eyes subdued his indignation. This was about Meg, not his wounded ego.
“There’s still the plan to work with the book editor,” Cash offered.
Meg’s green eyes opened wide and at last a little light twinkled in them. “That’s true. And she didn’t seem to be fazed by the wedding falling through. She said she’s looking forward to receiving sample recipes.”
“Sounds promising.”
“I just can’t believe she wants to do a whole series. How in the world will I come up with so many new dishes?”
As quickly as the light in her eyes flicked on, it dimmed again. Meg leaned back on the couch. Her emotions were bouncing up and down more than a bucking bronco. He raked his fingers through his hair. Pregnancy hormones should be outlawed. He didn’t know what reaction to expect from her.
“How about we grab some food?” he asked, anxious for a distraction. “I always think more clearly on a full stomach.”
“I am hungry.” Meg rose to her feet. Her shoulders drooped, as though every problem in the world was weighing on them. “I’ll set the table.”
He grabbed her hand. Her fingers were cold—most likely from nerves. His thumb stroked her smooth skin as he guided her down next to him. Just a mere touch quickened his pulse. He pulled his hand away.
“You’ve done more than enough today. You stay here and put up your feet.” He picked up the remote for the large screen television and held it out to her. “Find us a good show to watch.”
He was at the doorway when Meg called out, “Cash, thank you.”
“No problem. After all, you cooked it.”
“Not for dinner. For listening to me and not judging me for losing my job.” She got to her feet and moved until she stood directly in front of him. Her emerald eyes held a sadness which tugged at his heart. “I feel safe here with you—like I could tell you anything and you’d understand.”
Her words touched a spot deep inside him. He swallowed hard, feeling a thump-thump in his chest. It was a place he’d thought had all but died, but Meg had shown him that his heart might be damaged but it could still feel the intensity of her words. Maybe somewhere, somehow, with Meg around, there was a spark of hope for him.
“We’ll get through this together.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close, drawing on her strength to bolster his own. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.”
Her faith in him made him want to move the sun and the stars for her. But what was he doing, making promises to a pregnant woman? Especially promises he didn’t know if he could keep—if he should keep.
* * *
Meghan’s bare feet were propped up on the coffee table, exactly where Cash had placed her after the comforting hug. How had she gotten so lucky to have someone so caring in her life?
She flipped through the various television stations. She wasn’t used to a man waiting on her. Her father had been old-fashioned and had expected to find dinner on the table. Then there had been Harold, and he’d liked to be waited on as though he were royalty. At first she hadn’t minded. She’d thought he’d eventually do the same for her. But he had never returned the gesture. And she’d begun to wonder if all men expected to be catered to.
Cash had renewed her belief that there were still gentlemen in this world. She hoped when the right lady came along and landed him she would realize what a wonderful man she’d married. The thought of another woman sitting here, waiting to share a cozy meal with him, brought a frown to Meghan’s face. She was being silly. It wasn’t like she had any claim on him. They were friends. Period.
“Here you go.” Cash held a big plate of spaghetti in one hand and the salad in the other. “I’ll be right back with your drink.”
When he handed over the food their fingers touched. Awareness pulsed up her arm and settled into a warm spot in her chest. As he returned to the kitchen she found herself turning to appreciate his finer assets. How had this man managed to stay single all these years?
The fact he didn’t mind treating her like a princess only added to his irresistibility. In that moment she knew the man she married would have to have this quality. Thoughtfulness went a long way in her book. But, sadly, this sexy cowboy no more fit into her city life than she could be a world-famous cook on an out-of-the-way ranch.
At last they settled side by side on the couch with their feet up. Meghan worked the remote, scanning the television stations. When they stumbled over a crime series she paused and turned a pleading look to Cash. “Do you like this?”
“It’s fine by me.”
She grinned. “I love this show. But you have to guess the killer.”
“I do?”
She nodded, excited to have someone to share her favorite television show with at last. “It’s no fun otherwise.”
He glanced over at her with an arched brow. “And what if—?”
“Shh...it’s on. We’ll miss the clues.”
He chuckled as he settled back against the couch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been home to catch an episode. It seemed as though the past year of her life had been one long string of dinners out on the town or mandatory appearances at various events.
An hour later the empty dishes were piled at the end of the coffee table because neither wanted to risk missing any of the show. Each threw out guesses about the villain’s identity, and at the end Cash got it right.
“Since you guessed the killer, I’ll clean up,” Meghan said, getting to her feet.
“I don’t think so.” He picked up the stack of dishes and started for the kitchen. “You cooked. I’ll take care of the rest.”
This man was offering to clean up? Had she died and gone to heaven? Even if all he did was rinse them off and stack them in the dishwasher she’d be tickled pink.
She followed him. “Are you serious?”
“Would you quit acting so shocked?” He sat his load on the counter and turned to her. “It isn’t that big a deal.”
“If you’re sure.” He nodded and she added, “I should give my sister a call.”
He momentarily frowned. “Is this sister the one you called right after the wedding?”
“Yes. Ella is a couple of years younger than me. We used to be really close.”
“Maybe with the baby on its way it’ll draw you two back together.”
She smiled at Cash’s encouraging words. He reminded her of her father and his peacemaking tendencies. “I hope so. I’m pretty sure my mother will want nothing to do with me or the baby after the way I screwed up the wedding.”
Disappointment and frustration welled up in her as she faced the fact that she’d come so close to receiving her mother’s approval at last, only to have it snatched away. She promised herself never
to be so hard on her own child.
“I take it your sister won’t be so judgmental?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. You should meet her sometime. I think you’d like her.” She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them.
He smiled and the dimple in his cheek showed. “I’d like that.”
His comment implied they had a future, but she knew that wouldn’t be the case. Once she left the Tumbling Weed she’d never be back. She’d mail him a check for all the clothes and then this part of her life would be done—over—a memory.
Sorrow settled in her chest. So many doors were being closed to her. She needed to start throwing open some windows until she found a way out of this mess.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CASH YAWNED AS he strolled to the kitchen early the next morning and flicked on the ceiling light. He wanted to help Meg, but she’d told him point-blank not to. It just wasn’t in his nature to stand by and not lend a hand. What would it take to get that stubborn redhead to see reason?
He moved to the cabinet where he usually kept the coffee grounds but found none. Funny...he’d just picked some up at the store. They must be around somewhere. A quick search revealed they were on the bottom shelf of the fridge. He smiled. Little changes had been made all over the house but he didn’t mind a bit. It was nice to share the place with someone.
“Morning.” A long yawn followed Meg’s greeting. “I slept in.”
He turned, ready to shoo her back to bed, but when his gaze landed on her cute pink cotton top and sleeper shorts, all rational thoughts fled his mind. His gaze lingered on her skimpy outfit, which revealed her smooth, bare legs. His blood stirred. With each heartbeat his temperature shot up another degree.
Realizing he was staring, he jerked his line of vision upward. Another yawn overtook her and she stretched. The tiny T-shirt rode up, giving him a glimpse of her creamy midriff. He shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to go to her.
“Sorry I’m still in my PJs. When I saw the time I rushed down here. I didn’t want you to skip breakfast.”
“You should go back to bed.” He forced himself to turn away from the tempting view. He breathed in a deep, calming breath before he proceeded to add grounds to the coffeemaker. “I’ve got everything under control.”
With the machine armed with coffee and water, he switched it on. Having regained his composure, he turned to find her heading for the refrigerator.
“Stop,” he said. “You aren’t cooking this morning.”
She paused. The overhead light made her squint as she turned to him, but it was the return of the dark shadows beneath her eyes that concerned him.
“Of course I am.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
She shrugged. “After I talked to my sister I had trouble falling asleep.”
And he knew exactly what had kept her awake—the loss of her job. His hands clenched and his jaw tightened. He could help alleviate some of her worries if she’d just let him.
Unable to keep his mouth shut, he said, “I’ll make some calls today and see if I can track down some leads for you.”
Her shoulders squared and her hands balled and rested on her hips. “We talked about this, I don’t need charity. If I’m going to be a mom I’ve got to learn to do things on my own.”
“But it’s just a little help—”
“No. Thank you.”
He’d certainly give her credit for fierce determination to gain her independence. And, as much as he wanted to argue with her, the pursing of her lush lips and the slant of her eyes told him he needed to find another tactic.
All this stress couldn’t be good for her or the baby. If she wouldn’t let him help her find a job, he could at least help distract her from her problems for a little bit.
“You know, you’ve been working too hard around here,” he said. “When we made our agreement I never meant for you to clean the house top to bottom.”
“But I wanted to do it. You didn’t have to open your house up to me but you did. And I’m extremely grateful.”
“And I’m glad I was there to help. But I don’t want you to overdo it. Especially with the baby and all...”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “I am a little tired.”
“Then go crawl back in bed.”
“But what about breakfast—?”
“I can grab something to eat. I’m not helpless.” Not giving her time to protest, he added, “If you do as I ask I’ve got an offer for you. How would you feel about packing us a picnic lunch?”
“A picnic?” Her face lit up.
“I’ll saddle up a couple of horses and we’ll take off about eleven. What do you say?”
“I say it’s a date.” Another yawn had her covering her mouth. “It’s been years since I was on a picnic. I can’t wait.”
She sauntered out of the kitchen. His gaze followed the pendulum movement of her hips until she turned the corner. He expelled a sigh of regret.
Soon she’d be gone and, boy, was he going to miss everything about her. No one but his grandmother had ever gone out of their way for him. His house not only sparkled, but bit by bit she’d made it into a home. Somehow he would find a way to pay her back.
* * *
Meghan sat atop Cinnamon, trying not to frown. In between preparing food for the picnic she’d searched the online job notices. She hadn’t found any openings for a chef, but she refused to let it defeat her.
She’d taken the time to update her résumé and sent it out to a number of restaurants in Albuquerque. It was only after she’d hit “send” that the nerves had settled in. What if none of them called her? What would she do next?
She’d deal with that later.
Right now, with the sun’s rays warming her back and the handsomest cowboy on her left, she made a concerted effort to shove her problems to the back of her mind. It wasn’t every day such a sexy guy asked her out on a picnic.
With a gentle breeze at their backs, they quietly rode along with no particular destination in mind. Out here it was just them, their horses and an abundance of nature. Meghan inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air laced with the scent of grass and wildflowers.
Cash was easy to be around. He talked when he had something to say, but never just to hear himself talk. And he listened to her—really listened. He made her feel special. She only wished she could make him feel the same way.
He worked so hard, from dawn until late in the evening, never once complaining, but instead insisting on helping her with the dinner dishes. That was why she’d worked extra hard on this picnic lunch. He deserved a special treat.
After riding for an hour or so they came upon a winding creek. Off to the side was a lush green pasture, just perfect for a secluded picnic—a romantic rendezvous. Was it possible Cash had more in mind for today’s outing than just food? She cast him a sideways glance. He wasn’t acting any different than normal.
“Can we stop here?” she asked.
Her overactive imagination conjured up an image of her spreading out a blanket and sinking down into Cash’s arms. His gaze would catch hers, stealing her breath away. And before she knew it his lips would be pressed to hers. The daydream sparked heat in her cheeks.
The level of her desire for him struck her. She’d never hungered for a man in her life. She worried at her bottom lip. She was carrying one man’s baby and craving the touch of another. Did this make her some sort of hussy?
“Why are you frowning?” His voice cut into her troubled thoughts. “Did you change your mind about stopping?”
“No, this is fine. In fact it’s beautiful. You’re so lucky to own this little bit of heaven on earth.”
“Really? Because you looked like something was bothering you.”
“Nothing.” She forced
a smile. “Although I’m getting hungry. How about you?”
“Definitely. The aroma of fried chicken has been pure torture.”
She was being silly and worrying for no reason. But when he helped her out of her saddle she noticed how his hands lingered a little longer than necessary. His gaze caught hers and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
In the next breath he pulled away. “I’ll grab the food.”
In no time Cash set the supplies down at her feet. They included a container of homemade potato salad, macaroni and cheese and some deviled eggs. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to take the horses down to the creek.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be fine here. Lunch will be ready when you get back.”
“I won’t be gone long.” His gaze paused on her lips, causing her insides to flutter. “Promise you won’t start without me?”
She swallowed and tried to maintain an easy demeanor. “Now, would I do something like that?”
He strolled over to the horses. Wise or foolish, she couldn’t ignore the magnetic attraction pulling at them. Cash felt it too. She was certain of it.
And it wasn’t just now that he’d felt it. This morning in the kitchen she’d caught his hungry glances. And there had been other times when he’d eyed her up, all the while thinking she hadn’t noticed.
She licked her dry lips. She’d most definitely noticed.
* * *
No more than ten minutes later Cash had tended to the horses and was heading back to join Meg. The aroma of fried chicken floating along in the gentle breeze was tempting, but not as tempting as having a taste of Meg’s sweet kisses. This picnic was his best idea so far. And Meg looked more delicious than the cherry pie she’d packed for dessert.
When he entered the clearing she flashed him a smile. His chest puffed up. No one had ever looked at him quite that way before.
She got to her feet and moved to meet him partway. Her beauty mesmerized him, from the pink tingeing her cheeks to the spark of mischief in her emerald eyes.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” she said, stopping in front of him. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m feeling much better.”
