What The Rancher Wants.... Lucy Monroe

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What The Rancher Wants... - Lucy  Monroe

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be such a big deal, but it would set a precedent for the future. If she ate with them now, human nature dictated that the hands would recognize that whenever she shared their table, her place would be between Win and Shorty.

      Her stomach chose that moment to make a rumbling sound and the men laughed while she smiled, embarrassed. “I guess I’ll eat now.”

      Several hours later after preparing a dinner that only required Shorty to heat things through before serving them, Carlene got ready to leave. Her feet didn’t hurt as much as after a night tending bar, but her back ached from a different kind of labor. She’d spent the day cooking, cleaning and trying to decipher the written instructions Rosa had left behind in a confusing mixture of Spanish and English.

      She wondered what had caused the other woman to abandon her job so abruptly.

      “You sure know your way around a ranch kitchen,” Shorty commented from behind as she pulled off her apron and hung it on the hook by the refrigerator.

      She turned and smiled at him. “Thanks. I grew up in west Texas cow country.”

      “Congratulations, Shorty. You got more information out of her in five minutes than I was able to do during her interview.”

      Carlene’s head snapped up at the sound of Win’s amused voice from the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the doorjamb, a lazy smile on his face and looking handsome as sin. He was dressed much as he’d been for her interview, except today his T-shirt was black instead of dark blue and a cowboy hat hung loosely from his fingers next to his thigh.

      She wished he’d stop smiling at her like that. It made her forget what she was going to do next. Forcing herself to focus on his words and not his mouth, she said, “You didn’t ask.”

      He came into the kitchen sniffing at the casserole in the oven with an appreciative air. “Smells good.”

      “Thank you.”

      He lifted the linen towel covering the two marionberry pies she’d made for dinner. She’d used the native Oregon fruit, figuring the men would appreciate the plump, tangy blackberry-style filling. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said as he put the cover back over the pies.

      “Wrong about what?” she asked, feeling breathless for no apparent reason.

      “I did ask.” He turned to face her. “I distinctly remember asking if you had any experience.”

      “You asked about experience as a housekeeper and cook. I don’t have any formal experience, but I do know how to cook and clean house. I told you that.”

      She didn’t understand his enigmatic expression. He asked, “Why’d you leave Texas? Were you looking for adventure?”

      She couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled forth. “If I’d been looking for adventure, I wouldn’t have ended up in Sunshine Springs.” Though the small town was a lot more than what she’d thought it was when she’d first arrived.

      She’d had no idea at the time that it was a winter playground for the rich and famous.

      He relaxed his tense posture and returned her smile. “No. You wouldn’t have.”

      “So, why did you leave?” Shorty asked, reminding Carlene of his presence.

      “It was time to move on,” she replied noncommittally.

      “Leave behind a disgruntled lover?” asked the irrepressible Shorty.

      Carlene frowned. It was too near the truth. “I left behind a life that didn’t fit me any longer.”

      Win’s expression turned distinctly chilled. “Did that life include a husband? Children?”

      “No.” She was inexplicably hurt that he would have such a low opinion of her as to believe she would leave her own children behind, and her voice came out tight. “I’ve never been married.”

      His expression didn’t lighten. “Do you do that often?”

      “What? Move on?” Was he worried that she would move and leave him in the lurch looking for a housekeeper as Rosa had? “Don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of notice when I’m ready to leave.”

      His expression turned even more forbidding. “I see.”

      She hated it when people used that catch all phrase. It made for lousy communication. For instance, what exactly did Win believe he saw and why had it put him in such a dour mood?

      “There’s nothing to see. I’m a responsible employee, Win. I won’t leave you in the lurch.”

      “You said when, not if. You’re already planning to leave.”

      He didn’t need to make it sound as if she were betraying him. She was just an employee. A housekeeper…a job easy to fill again, as she was testament to. But perhaps she should tell him about her plans to get a teaching position in the fall. She discarded the idea as quickly as it came. This wasn’t exactly a position with a contract and long-range career plans. She would do the job she’d been hired to do as long as she worked for Win Garrison, and she’d do it well.

      And she’d give him sufficient notice to find someone else. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

      She did say, “I’d have to be a different person to be content with the position of cook and housekeeper for the rest of my life.”

      Win nodded, his face blank. “Yes. You would.”

      A couple of days later, Carlene was washing up the dishes left over from breakfast when Lonny came in. Once they learned she knew her way around the kitchen, Shorty no longer came up to the house to help. So, she was alone with the stable hand. She pushed the discomfort that thought caused aside. She could handle a young man like Lonny, even if he did have eyes colder than a meat locker.

      Determined to take control of the encounter right from the start, she forced a smile to her lips. “If you’re looking for Shorty, he’s down at the stables.”

      “I didn’t come to talk to Shorty. I came to talk to you.” Lonny leaned negligently against the counter about a foot from where she stood at the sink.

      She put the last plate into the bottom rack of the dishwasher and then closed it. Standing straight, she dried her hands on the kitchen towel she kept by the sink. “What can I do for you?”

      Lonny’s smile didn’t travel from his lips to his eyes. Carlene suppressed a shiver.

      “I don’t want anything special,” he said.

      She knew he was lying. There was purpose along with unmistakable confidence in the younger man’s eyes. Well, that confidence would turn to surprise if he tried anything. He would learn just as her former boss had that Carlene was not, nor would she ever be, easy prey. She was grateful that Lonny had no way of exacting the terrible price that her former principal had for her rejection. At least this time, she could say no without losing her job and her reputation in the process.

      She stepped around him to pull down the platter she intended to use for lunch, using it as an excuse to move away from Lonny. She

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