added, “From the sound of it, seems like she wants more from you than just a job.”
Colt doled out salad for himself and his two boys. Dodge rose, muttering about forgetting the main dish, and headed for the kitchen. “You’re not seriously thinking of hiring her, are you? Sounds like a carbon copy of the last woman who got under your skin. And we all know how that went down.”
Blake wanted to tell everyone to back off. That he had it all under control. That he wouldn’t hire Maggie. But the truth was he’d already hired her, and if he didn’t stop himself he was certain to head down the same dismal road, just like Colt warned.
Darn it all, he hated when his brothers were right.
Dodge reappeared, carrying what looked like a baked turkey roll on a white platter.
Blake immediately felt cheated. “What’s that?”
“Somethin’ called tofurkey,” Dodge said. “Made with some of that extra-firm type tofu, a little herb stuffin’, some mushrooms and a whole bunch’a celery. It’s a gift from Kitty who whipped it up herself, thankin’ us ’cause Blake here hired her sister, Maggie.”
“Here we go again,” Travis said, as he shook his head.
Blake decided to ignore Travis and focus on their poor excuse for a rib-eye roast. “Come on, Dad. You can’t be serious.” He was starving, but he’d rather eat his own boot than one of Kitty’s healthy creations.
“Kitty was good enough to go to all the trouble of makin’ it and luggin’ it over here, especially in her female condition. We got no choice but to eat it. We don’t waste no food in this house.”
“Does it have peanuts in it? I like peanuts,” Joey asked.
“Most likely,” Blake answered.
“Can’t we give it to people who like health food?” Gavin, Colt’s middle son, asked.
“This here’s a small town, son,” Dodge explained. “Kitty would hear about it before the first bite was taken, and that would hurt her feelin’s. You don’t want to be puttin’ a hurt on Kitty, now do you, son? No tellin’ what that woman might do.”
Gavin shook his head in resignation.
Dodge began slicing the tofurkey then plating it for his family. Joey was the only one at the table who seemed eager to eat his dinner. Everyone else wore a combination of fear and disgust on their faces. Blake was especially not eager to try it.
“Is Kitty going away, Daddy? I don’t want Kitty to go away. She’s my friend. I don’t want you to hire the hot boot lady. I want Kitty.” Big tears rolled down Scout’s cheeks.
Blake immediately stood and went over to her. He had a feeling the tears might be about something—someone—else. He knelt down beside his child as she tumbled into his arms. “Hey, baby, Kitty’s not going away. Not like you think she is. Kitty has to take some time off to have her babies. Once they’re born and she’s rested a bit, she’ll come right back to the office here. I promise.”
When the tears intensified, he carried Scout out to the front porch with Suzy following close behind. Wherever Scout went on the ranch, Suzy was usually right there with her.
Blake sat on the swing, placing Scout next to him. The sun had set, and the world around them was growing dark. Birds busied themselves up in the trees with a rush of evening song while Blake gently rocked the swing back and forth. A whitetail buck lazily grazed about twenty feet from the house, as if it knew he was safe from hunters on the Granger ranch.
The combination of movement, watching the buck and bird chatter seemed to calm Scout, though it took a few minutes before she stopped crying. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “She won’t ever come back, Daddy, and I’ll miss her too much. I don’t want her to go. Make her stay.”
Blake sat back as his daughter reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and started crying again. He stroked her hair, and leaned into her. “Kitty isn’t going anywhere, baby. She’s staying home for a while, that’s all. You can visit her anytime you want.”
Scout sat back down and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “She’s not moving to L.A?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Mommy moved to L.A.”
“We all did, sweetpea, but we came back.”
“But Mommy didn’t. I want her to come home now.”
Blake’s heart was breaking. “That’s not possible, baby. Her job is in L.A.”
“Can’t she move her job here?”
“I’m afraid not, but how about if I call her right now so you can talk to her?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Scout slid over on the swing, getting closer to him, waiting.
As Blake pulled his phone out to make the call, he knew before Maggie Daniels set one foot inside his office, he’d have to fire her. No matter what he thought of Maggie, he knew his brothers were right. She would prove to be exactly like his ex, who, once again, was screening her calls and would call him back later, when she knew Scout would be in bed.
Chapter Three
“I’m really tired,” Kitty announced as she dumped dry black beans into a pot to soak overnight, no doubt for some tasty new cake recipe she’d discovered in her latest vegan cookbook.
“Then you should go to bed,” Maggie told her. “I can take care of cleaning up.”
“But it’s only seven o’clock, and I wanted to finish knitting those booties for my babies.”
“You can knit tomorrow. Your babies aren’t due for at least another five weeks. You have plenty of time.”
Kitty yawned, then said, “You’re right.” And she waddled off in the direction of her bedroom with Maggie following close behind.
Once Kitty was comfortably tucked into bed, with pillows scrunched under her legs, arms and head, Maggie kissed her forehead and turned out the lights. Then, she walked to her room down the hall, changed into tight-fitting jeans, combed her hair out so it hung loose on her shoulders, reapplied her makeup a little darker than she had worn it during the day and sprayed on her favorite perfume.
Tonight, Maggie was going out. She finally had a reason to celebrate, and she refused to do it with a glass of organic sparkling cider. She hadn’t been able to justify a night out for quite a while, but now that she had a job, a glass of red wine seemed in order, along with the fattest steak her money could buy.
Normally, only her platform stilettos would do with her skinny jeans, but she needed to start fitting in if she was going to live in this tumbleweed of a town for the next few months, so cowboy boots seemed to be the ticket.
After quietly trying on several pairs of her sister’s boots, she settled on a slightly worn burnt-orange pair with a respectable heel, and a subtle pointed toe. She borrowed a deep blue sweater,
