Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) (12 page)

Bonnie stared at the clock on the wall. Almost midnight. In less than twelve hours, she’d be listening to the doctor expound on her treatment options. Each year there were fewer. Her fist thumped the wheelchair’s armrest. “God, I hate this damn chair,” she whispered, aloud, hoping she didn’t wake Celia.

Bonnie brewed a cup of tea and sat alone at the end of the kitchen table sipping the hot beverage. When her tea cooled enough, she swallowed her medication in hopes she’d be able to sleep a little after all.

As the minutes ticked by, Bonnie’s legs stilled while her anger grew. She’d looked forward to her luncheon with Cathy and Chad. She couldn’t believe Chad’s opinion of the lovely young lady she’d hoped would be her daughter-in-law some day. Today’s youth frustrated her to no end. From her son to the young nurses in the hospital, none of them had a lick of common sense, it seemed.

Finally, she yawned and set her cup in the sink. Celia had helped her into her nightgown before she turned in for the night. All Bonnie had to do was move from the chair to her bed, a maneuver she’d mastered now. While she rolled down the hallway toward her room, Bonnie formulated a plan. No way was Miss It’s-My-Kitchen ever getting her hash-slinger hooks into Chad. Not if Bonnie could stop it. She smiled in anticipation of taking Sierra Griffin down a peg, two or three if she was lucky. Regardless of what anyone said, the kitchen at the Whispering Pines Ranch was
her
kitchen. She couldn’t wait until noon tomorrow.

* * *

Sierra set the magazine down and rose to her feet when she spotted Mrs. Parker being pushed in her expensive wheelchair from the medical clinic’s examining room out to the waiting area. Sierra blinked back tears, remembering her beloved grandmother’s ordeal with MS. Her grandma could only have dreamt of owning a chair like that, but she would never have agreed to spend so much money on herself.

This morning’s encounter with Chad still grated on her nerves. The guy had balls, asking her to drive his mother to her appointments today. Given their explosive first meeting, what had Chad been thinking? She’d been hired to cook. Since when had her duties evolved to include his mother’s personal chauffeur? She had to stop thinking about it. She’d just get angry all over again.

Besides, so far the old gal had been on her best behavior. Of course, Sierra would never boot her out of the van and leave her on the side of the road, but Mrs. Parker didn’t need to know that. For some reason, the woman had actually seemed pleasant, carrying on a cheerful conversation the entire trip into the city.

Was she up to something?

Sierra mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she realized it earlier? The second they returned home Mrs. Parker intended to complain bitterly to her son about something Sierra had done, a total fabrication, and then she’d insist Chad fire her. Even if Sierra denied everything, would Chad believe her? Or would he believe his mother?

“All done. We’ll see you again in two weeks, Mrs. Parker,” chirped the young nurse, handing her patient a small rectangular card. “Your next appointment is written on there, but we’ll call the day before to remind you.”

Bonnie Parker scowled and stuffed the card into a side pocket on her purse. She glanced at her watch and waved at Sierra. “Let’s go. We’ll be late for lunch.”

Sierra moved forward and the nurse stepped back simultaneously like choreographed dancers. “We don’t want you to miss lunch with your friend,” agreed Sierra, rolling the wheelchair toward the front door.

“You’ll be accompanying me,” Chad’s mom announced out of the blue.

Sierra stopped so abruptly that Mrs. Parker was thrown forward in the chair. “I am?” she blurted.

“Well, of course, you are,” snipped Mrs. Parker.

* * *

Bonnie Parker leaned back in the wheelchair. She hated the damn apparatus with every fiber of her being. When she received the MS diagnosis years ago, the doctors warned her that her condition would deteriorate to the point that she’d be forced to use a wheelchair some day. No matter the length of time, she suspected she’d never accept her doctor’s decision. Recently, she was proven right. She’d only been using the chair a little over a week, and already she was sick of it.

Her son’s new ranch cook wheeled her out to the Whispering Pines minivan. She settled Bonnie in the passenger seat and, once again with surprising expertise positioned the head rest and folded the foot rests and stuffed the chair in back. Bonnie had disliked the woman when she first laid eyes on her, and their first meeting hadn’t gone well. She still couldn’t believe her son had spoken so rudely to her, had even taken the girl’s side in the argument.

Well, she’d gotten rid of a half dozen cooks. She could get rid of this one, too.

Bonnie felt certain that Sierra had set her sights on Chad. She intended to end this thing between her son and the cook, and the sooner the better. Cathy Smythe had grown up on a neighboring ranch, and she and Chad had known each other all their lives. Bonnie smiled as she recalled two-year-old Cathy and three-year-old Chad dressed in their swimsuits, sharing a backyard wading pool. Chad had splashed Cathy and made her cry, and being a gentleman even at that tender age, he’d apologized and brought her a towel to wipe her eyes.

Bonnie and Sarah Smythe had been friends and neighbors since the day they’d met as young brides. Cathy was the spitting image of her mother, who’d died of breast cancer several years ago, and Bonnie couldn’t wait until the kind-hearted schoolteacher became her daughter-in-law.

“We’re meeting someone,” announced Bonnie as Sierra rolled her up to the hostess’ podium fifteen minutes later. “The reservation is under Parker.”

“Oh, yes, the young lady you’re dining with is waiting at your table. Please follow me,” said the skinny woman dressed from head to toe in black.

The hostess strode along the edge of the dining room and soon halted in front of a table in a hidden corner of the restaurant, as per Bonnie’s instructions when she called to make the reservation. The fewer people who saw her in this damnable chair the better.

Cathy spotted them when they approached. She wore a teal-patterned silk blouse, white slacks and heeled sandals the same shade of teal as her top. With her impossibly thin frame, the girl could have been a cover model.

“Mrs. Parker, how are you?” Cathy greeted her with a broad smile and leapt to her feet to exchange a quick hug with the older woman.

“Hello, Cathy, dear. I’m just fine. Thank you for asking.” She’d obviously heard about the wheelchair through the gossip grapevine, since she didn’t appear surprised. And she was raised too well to say anything.

Sierra wheeled Bonnie up to the vacant place at the table for four. The chair had been removed, also part of her instructions. “Cathy, I’d like you to meet our new ranch cook. This is Sierra Griffin. Sierra, this is a lifelong family friend, Cathy Smythe.”

Sierra reached across the table and stuck out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Smythe.”

“Oh, please, call me Cathy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Sierra.” Cathy shook her hand.

Bonnie wondered if Cathy noticed Sierra’s faded jeans and oversized cowl-necked top that had been in fashion years ago. The girl had no sense of style at all. “Cathy’s mother and I were inseparable friends until we lost her to breast cancer a few years ago. Cathy and Chad have been friends since she was in diapers. I love Cathy like a daughter.” Bonnie beamed with affection.

“Oh, Mrs. Parker.” Cathy reached over and patted Bonnie’s hand. “Dad and I love you and Chad like family, too.”

Bonnie smiled back. She vowed to make the young woman a permanent part of her family. She intended to show Sierra how unfit she was to even consider being Chad’s wife. The girl knew nothing about ranching and horses. Perhaps she’d never even ridden a horse for all Bonnie knew. Cathy grew up on a ranch and loved horses and loved Chad, too. She’d just said as much. “We should order, ladies. I’ve been looking forward to this for days now.”

Twenty minutes later, they’d ordered their second round of drinks and were enjoying their salads. The conversation moved along surprisingly well. The two young ladies exchanged histories, and Bonnie was shocked to learn that Sierra was actually a professionally-trained and certified executive chef, not just some short order cook she assumed her son dragged away from a truck stop or fast food restaurant. Now that she thought about it, she vaguely recalled Celia mentioning it the day she was released from the hospital. Apparently, she’d been so angry it hadn’t registered. And then Bonnie almost choked on her iced tea when Sierra mentioned she’d trained in Paris for two years. Maybe there was more substance to the woman than she’d first assumed.

“Keep some room for dessert, Cathy,” warned Bonnie, purposefully omitting Sierra from her statement. “The dessert menu in this restaurant should be illegal.”

“As a self-proclaimed chocoholic, I’m addicted to sweets.” Cathy laughed delicately and then smiled at Bonnie.

Bonnie noticed Sierra hadn’t even flinched from her rebuff. Either the stupid girl hadn’t realized she was being snubbed or she didn’t care. The latter possibility irked Bonnie even more.

“I’m with you, Cathy,” croaked Bonnie.

She stuck a forkful of salad into her mouth, inhaling at the same time without thinking. Something flew into the back of her throat and seemed to lodge further down. She attempted to swallow, but nothing happened. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her throat constricted and her eyes watered. Through increasingly blurry vision she noticed the other two women continued eating, totally oblivious to her difficulty.

When they noticed something was wrong, Cathy asked, “Are you okay, Mrs. Parker?”

Sierra slid forward in her chair. “Are you choking?”

Bonnie frantically nodded her head and then the room dimmed. Oh, no, was she dying? She couldn’t be on the way out. She wasn’t finished living yet. It was way too damn soon.

Chapter 10

Sierra leapt out of her chair so quickly she almost sent it tumbling backward.

“Oh, my, God. Mrs. Parker is choking,” Cathy shrieked at a passing waitress. “Don’t just stand there. Call 9-1-1.” She stood wringing her hands, glancing around, apparently waiting for someone to tell her what to do.

Sierra hurried around to the opposite side of the table and rolled the wheelchair back. “Help me lift Mrs. Parker out of this chair. If you wait for a paramedic to arrive, she could be dead.”

Cathy stood stunned, not moving a muscle.

“Now, Cathy! Get your scrawny ass over here and help me!” Sierra’s temper surfaced.

Cathy stumbled over to Sierra’s side. “Help you do what? She’s turning blue. Oh, God. Look at her! She’s actually turning blue!”

“Shut the hell up and help me hold Mrs. Parker when I get her out of the chair!” Sierra lifted the older woman with surprising ease. She heard her gasping for air while pelting Sierra’s arms with her hands. “You’re going to be okay, Mrs. Parker. Hang in there. Now, Cathy, help Mrs. Parker balance on her feet while I stand behind her. I’m going to perform the Heimlich maneuver and hopefully whatever she’s choking on will pop out.”

“Okay,” whispered Cathy, visibly shaking, either due to the drama of the situation or from Sierra yelling at her.

Either way Sierra couldn’t have cared less.

Cathy stepped in front of Mrs. Parker. Sierra watched as the older woman’s age-spotted hands reached up and rested on Cathy’s bony shoulders.

“Now what?” Cathy whimpered.

“Just keep her from falling over.” Sierra settled her hands in the proper position. After two attempts a piece of food flew out of Mrs. Parker’s mouth. Unfortunately for Cathy, Mrs. Parker projectile vomited at the same time. Cathy was drenched in puke before she appeared to realize what was happening. And then she screamed at a decibel level that might harm a human’s hearing.

“You stupid old woman. Look what you’ve done to my new silk blouse,” screamed Cathy. “Oh, I stink. I didn’t even want to waste the day coming to this stupid luncheon, but Daddy insisted.” She released her hold on Mrs. Parker and dashed toward the Ladies Room, continuing her verbal tirade.

Sierra grabbed Mrs. Parker or she would have fallen on the floor. “Here, ma’am, sit down before you collapse,” she suggested.

* * *

Bonnie sighed in relief, drawing in large breaths of air. “Thank you, dear, for your quick thinking. You’ve saved my life.” She patted her chest and then grabbed her cloth napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

“My restaurant training just ensured I knew what to do.” Sierra stood at her side, swiped a strand of hair off Bonnie’s face and brushed her fingers across Bonnie’s brow, probably in hopes of soothing her after the traumatic episode. “How do you feel?”

“I feel extremely thankful you were here, dear.” Mrs. Parker smiled, weakly. “You have a gentle touch, Sierra. More so than I received in the hospital. You would have made a wonderful nurse.”

Sierra gaped, speechless.

A waitress appeared at the table with a wet cloth. “Here, ma’am. Would you like to clean up a bit?”

A busboy arrived and mopped the floor in front of the wheelchair while Bonnie wiped her face. None of the mess landed on her clothing, and she passed the cloth back to the waitress.

“Thank you, both of you, for your kindness.” Bonnie smiled at the kind-hearted wait staff.

Cathy appeared suddenly, grabbed her purse off the table, and strode out of the restaurant without a word or backward glance.

Bonnie smiled at Sierra. “It appears I’m not too popular with Cathy right now.”

“It wasn’t done on purpose.” Sierra spoke sympathetically.

“One thing is certain. She has shown her true colors, hasn’t she? Perhaps she isn’t the young lady I thought she was.” Bonnie took a sip of iced tea and waved Sierra back to her seat.

“The horrible things she said are unforgivable.” Sierra returned her napkin to her lap.

Bonnie spoke with a totally straight face. “Well, it doesn’t matter. We won’t be seeing her scrawny ass back here any time soon.”