the guy was used to the best.
Keri had been raised in luxury, too. Although she didn’t live that way now, she knew exactly how to prepare guest quarters for a wealthy man. She’d spit-shined his room, which was at the other end of the hall, right across from her room. The crockery vase of wildflowers she’d placed on his dresser gave off a delicate aroma.
The poor things couldn’t begin to compete with the stench coming from the boys’ rooms. She’d already tested the situation, and the entire top floor, including the tenderfoot’s room, smelled like a garbage dump. Opening all the windows hadn’t made a dent in the foul odor.
Desperate to find the source, she went through everything again—closets, drawers, even under the bunk beds. Finally she found a kitchen matchbox crammed so far under one of the bunks that she’d missed it when she’d swept and mopped. Using a broom, she nudged it free and nearly gagged. She’d found her culprit.
She shouldn’t have looked, but after all this effort, she wanted to know what was in that box. As she slid open the matchbox, the smell got worse. She stared at a very fragrant, and very dead, mouse. It rested on a carefully folded tissue, and a second tissue covered the lower part of its body, so only the head was exposed.
Guessing what had happened wasn’t hard. She’d been around the boys enough to understand how their minds worked. They’d found the dead mouse, decided it deserved a decent burial and put it in the matchbox. Then they’d forgotten all about it.
Now what? She could throw it in the trash, but that seemed wrong. They’d folded the tissues so carefully, and she was touched by their concern for the little creature’s final resting place. Silly as it seemed, she wanted to bury it the way they’d intended.
Okay, so she would. Holding the box, she walked into the hall. She didn’t dare take the smelly thing down the back stairs and through Mary Lou’s pristine kitchen, so she made for the curved stairway leading to the front door. If she was very lucky she could get rid of the dead mouse before the tenderfoot arrived.
Luck was not on her side. The front door opened and Jack Chance ushered a broad-shouldered man through it. From this angle he didn’t look like a tenderfoot. His jeans were slightly worn and his blue chambray shirt was faded. His leather suitcase was scuffed up some, and even his hat seemed broken in. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this was a seasoned cowboy, and a nicely built one, at that.
Jack closed the door behind them. “I’ll take you straight upstairs so you can get settled in before dinner.”
As Keri froze in position, unsure whether to go up or down, Jack spotted her. “Ah, Keri! Perfect! You can show Michael to his room. Michael Hartford, this is Keri Fitzpatrick, our housekeeper. I’m sure she has your room all ready.”
Michael Hartford glanced up. “Nice to meet you, Keri.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Whoa. Cute guy. Square jaw, strong nose and dreamy eyes that were an unusual blue-gray color. He looked vaguely familiar, too, although she was sure she didn’t know anybody named Michael Hartford.
She’d love to show him to his room, but not while she was holding an extremely dead mouse. “Um, Jack, before I show Mr. Hartford to his room, I need to—”
“What’s that godawful smell?” Jack wrinkled his nose.
“I found a dead mouse under one of the bunks.”
“It’s in that box?”
“Yes, and I—”
“Let me have it.” Jack started up the stairs. “I’ll throw it in the trash.”
Although it might not be wise to disagree with the man who signed her paycheck, Keri couldn’t let him take the mouse. “That’s okay. I’m going to bury it out back. I won’t be a minute. The guest room is all ready.” She started down the stairs.
“You’re going to do what?” Blocking her passage, Jack shoved his hat back with his thumb as he stared up at her.
She paused on the step above him. “Bury it.” Jack could be intimidating, but she’d also seen him melt whenever he was with Archie, his little son. Jack had marshmallow insides. “The boys fixed it up with tissues and everything, like it was in a little coffin.”
Jack’s mouth twitched and amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “Keri, those boys are gone. They’ll never know what happened to the mouse. Besides, they obviously forgot all about this burial they’d planned.”
“I realize that, but it was a sweet impulse, a sign they cared for this little creature. I think it proves that they made progress while they were here, and I’d like to carry out their wishes.”
“Or else it was meant as a joke.”
“I prefer to believe it was sincere.”
“All righty, then.” Jack moved aside to let her pass. “Bury it deep. Put a few stones on top. That thing stinks to high heaven and I don’t want the dogs digging it up.”
“I’ll dig a deep hole.” She gave their visitor a quick smile as she walked past him. “Welcome to the Last Chance Ranch, Mr. Hartford. Sorry about the dead mouse.”
He smiled back. “May it rest in peace.”
“That’s the idea.” She held his gaze for a little longer than was polite, but he had such beautiful eyes, especially when they were lit up with that warm smile of his. She hoped he wouldn’t always associate meeting her with the smell of dead animals.
2
AFTER HIS INTRODUCTION to Keri Fitzpatrick, Michael decided he was going to like it here. Most women he knew would refuse to deal with a dead rodent, and if forced to do so, would grab the first opportunity to get rid of it. Instead, Keri had held on to the stinky mouse because she respected the impulse that had caused someone to tuck it into a matchbox.
He would have admired her spunky behavior whether she’d been pretty or not, but she was pretty, which made the encounter even better. He’d thoroughly enjoyed those few seconds of gazing into her vivid green eyes. The fact that she was flushed and sweaty made her eyes even brighter and her dark hair more tempting as it escaped from her ponytail and curled damply at her neck.
Her disheveled state probably wasn’t her favorite way to greet visitors, but she hadn’t bothered to apologize for how she looked. She’d only been concerned about the foul smell of a decaying animal. Good thing he didn’t have a weak stomach.
“Sorry about that,” Jack said. “Ready to go up?”
“You bet.” Michael wanted to ask about Keri. The scene with the dead mouse had charmed him, and when she’d spoken he’d heard a familiar accent. She was from back east somewhere. Not New York, but close.
He’d felt an instant attraction, and her steady gaze had told him she’d been drawn to him, too. But he didn’t ask Jack about her, because that would imply he was intrigued. Maybe he was, but he was here to learn riding and roping skills, not romance the housekeeper.
Pursuing her would be a rotten way to repay the Last Chance’s generous hospitality. Besides, it would be totally out of character for him. He wasn’t
