The Rancher Takes a Cook (6 page)

Today, she was elbow deep in water,
scrubbing the morning’s dishes. “Father, I guess You did know what
You were doing when You brought us to this ranch. These God-fearing
cowboys seem to be a good influence on Edward, and I think he’s
enjoying learning to rope and handle the cattle.”

Anna swallowed past a lump in her throat. An
image flashed through her mind of her lanky brother diving into
breakfast that morning with the same gusto the other cowboys
displayed. They had all complimented her sourdough biscuits, ham,
and red-eye gravy, sending a warmth to her chest that was still
there now. This place was beginning to feel like home.

A horse whinnied in the yard, pulling Anna
from her reverie. Hmm… It was unusual for Mr. O’Brien to be back so
early in the morning. Most days, when he rode out with the men, he
stayed out until mid-afternoon, at least. He must have forgotten
something. Anna dried her hands on the apron Aunt Lola had given
her and scurried to the front door.

As she neared the door, loud male voices
carried from the yard. Lots of voices. Curious, she eased the door
open and peeked outside. Cowboys and horses filled the open area
like bees in a hive. Most of the men wore the dark features of
Monty and the other hands, except two men striding toward the
porch. Examining them more closely, one of the men was Mr. O’Brien.
The other man was younger and a bit taller and definitely more
trail-worn, a half-grown beard on his face. Something about him
looked familiar. Where had she seen him before?

As the men mounted the porch stairs, the
younger cowboy removed his hat and knocked it against his chaps. A
small cloud of dust billowed. Anna’s breath caught. He was the tall
young cowboy in Uncle Walter’s store the first day they’d arrived
in Seguin.

At that moment, heat rose up her neck. She
still stood with the door cracked, and she wasn’t the only person
aware of her spying. Piercing blue eyes stared at her from under
raised brows, just before Anna ducked back inside the house and
closed the door. The latch clicked as she leaned against the wall,
hand pressed against her racing heart, breath coming in short
pants. What had she been thinking to peek through the doorway like
a curious child? She was a grown woman who should greet guests with
the hospitality and social grace of a southern lady. Of course, she
was also the cook, so maybe she would be expected to stay in the
kitchen and put together a tray of coffee and cookies. Yes, that’s
exactly what she should do.

But before Anna could bolt from the wall and
down the hall toward the kitchen, the front door opened and in
stepped the blue-eyed cowboy with Mr. O’Brien on his heels.

Summoning her courage and pasting on her
hostess smile, Anna turned to face the men—and became lost in eyes
bluer than a Texas sky on a fall day. Her gaze sank into them, like
coming home.

“Miss Stewart, I’m glad we found you.” Mr.
O’Brien’s delighted voice hit her like a shove, pushing her out of
her daze. She looked at him, trying to get her bearings. “I have
someone special for you to meet.” Clapping Blue-Eyes on the
shoulder, Mr. O’Brien continued, “I’d like to introduce my son,
Jacob O’Brien.”

“I...I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. O’Brien.”
She couldn’t read his expression, but she was making a ninny of
herself. She had to get out of here soon to regain her wits. Her
earlier intention returned, and Anna curtsied. “Please excuse me,
and I’ll put a pot of coffee on to brew.” She fled down the hall
before either man could respond.

* * *

Jacob’s gaze followed Miss Stewart’s exit.
After two long months on the trail with nothing to look at but
filthy cowboys and even filthier cows, he must be hallucinating.
He’d expected Aunt Lola’s wrinkled smile to meet him. Instead, he’d
found a brown-eyed beauty.

Turning from the empty hallway to face his
father, Jacob leveled his focus on the man. “Who was that?”

A chuckle escaped Pa’s grin. “That, my boy,
is our new cook, and she’s even better with the food than she is to
look at. Makes a blackberry pie that’ll send you down on one knee
to propose marriage right there in the dining room.”

Jacob quirked an eyebrow at him. “I doubt
that.”

“I see you’ll have to be convinced.” Pa’s
eyes twinkled. “Her brother’s the new kid you saw in the yard. His
name’s Edward. Monty hired him on, and she came along to watch
after him. I thought I was doing her a favor when I asked her to
cook for us, but I had no idea what a treat we were all in
for.”

Squeezing Jacob’s shoulder, the older man
continued, “Come on, son. What d’ya say we relax in the den until
Miss Stewart brings that coffee.”

* * *

Anna arranged cinnamon cookies and
gingersnaps on a tray while both the coffee and her emotions
brewed. Just when it finally seemed God had given them a real home
where Edward would be safe and things could feel
normal
,
this tall, blue-eyed cowboy appeared to shake things up again.
Well, she would just have to ignore him and carry on with her
normal routine. She could do this.

Anna poured the coffee into two large mugs,
arranged them on a serving tray with the cookies, and balanced the
tray in both hands. She inhaled a fortifying breath, squared her
shoulders, raised her chin, and marched forward toward the sound of
men’s voices coming from the den. She was a Stewart, by golly, and
she could handle any obstacle that came at her—even in the form of
a pair of disturbingly blue eyes that had made her lose her
faculties both times she looked into them.

As she entered the den, Anna fixed her gaze
on the tray she carried. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed
both men rise as she approached. She eased the tray on the table in
front of them. Her senses were painfully aware of the towering
presence of the man on her left. She was close enough to catch a
dusty, masculine scent—a rich mixture of man and horse. Anna
whirled and dashed toward the safety of her kitchen, but Mr.
O’Brien’s deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Miss Stewart, won’t you join us for a
while? My son has been regaling me with stories from the cattle
drive.”

Anna wracked her brain for a reason to leave
the room, careful to keep her eyes diverted from the younger man
standing on the left. Finally, she grasped at what she hoped was an
acceptable excuse. “Thank you, sir, but I need to work on lunch
preparations in the kitchen. I’m sure the men are hungry from the
trail. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Ah, yes, of course,” the older man
responded, nodding. Anna seized her escape opportunity.

In the kitchen, she flew into action. The
men most likely
would
be starved from the trail and would
appreciate something other than the beans and jerky they had
probably packed in their saddle bags. She didn’t have time to
prepare a hot meal from scratch for so many men, so it would have
to be a bit of unusual variety.

She sliced ham onto a plate and thick wedges
of bread, thankful now she had spent yesterday afternoon slaving in
the hot kitchen to make fresh loaves. She would need plenty for
these new mouths. Pulling out cold fried chicken and apple pies
from the last night’s meal, she scanned the pantry for what else
she could feed the men on short notice. Grabbing the basket of
vegetables from the corner, she sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, then
laid them out on a plate and opened several jars of green
beans.

Now for something to drink. These cowboys
seemed to be obsessed with coffee, the extra strong variety. After
two months of nothing but black coffee on the trail, though, she
didn’t have the heart to serve it for their first meal at home.
Milk seemed a bit too juvenile for strapping cowboys. Scanning the
pantry shelves, her eyes lit on the yellow lemons overflowing from
a wicker basket. Lemonade was the perfect thing on a hot summer
day.

Anna finished setting out the plates and
poured lemonade in each of the men’s cups. She didn’t have an exact
head count for the new cowboys, and she wasn’t sure if Monty and
his men had come in from the pasture, so she set a place at every
chair around the monstrous table. Looking around to make sure she
hadn’t missed anything, Anna nodded silent approval then squared
her shoulders and marched to the front door to ring the bell that
would signal the hungry men to stampede into the dining room.

And stampede they did. Anna stood by the
door as cowboys raced from every direction to form a line in front
of the water pump, emerging from the other side with shiny brown
faces and damp black hair. Dust still covered their vests and
chaps, but they strode to the porch. The sight of the men
approaching jolted Anna from her fascination with the scene, and
she scurried back into the house to prepare for their arrival.

Each of the cowboys shuffled to stand behind
a chair, Monty and Edward among them, and waited for the entire
group to assemble. Jacob O’Brien was among them and strolled to the
chair on her left, at the end of the table. Anna’s shoulders
tensed. He seemed to be ignoring her, though. When Mr. O’Brien
entered the room, chairs scraped the floor as they all sat. Every
head bowed, and Mr. O’Brien thanked the Lord for the safe return of
all who had gone on the drive. Anna marveled again at the manners
these tough cowboys displayed.

At the “Amen, ” the men dove into the food
with more than their usual fervor. She glanced at Aunt Lola on her
right. The older woman eyed the wild display as well, a grin
tugging her mouth. Anna hoped there would be enough food to go
around. Should she slice more bread? But the men were beginning to
slow as clattering forks and chewing took over.

Sitting back to wipe his face with a cloth
napkin, Mr. O’Brien remarked, “So, Jacob tells me you boys had a
few close calls on the trip.”

“Si,” answered an older man across the
table. “The old Shawnee trail was pretty grown up in places, so the
dogies would spread out in the brush. Then a big storm hit before
we made it to the Red River. It rained for
tres dias
and the
River, she was rough. We lost too many young ones there, and it
took a few days for the herd to become strong again.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, Juan.” A
contemplative expression spread over Mr. O’Brien’s face. “How did
you fare when you passed through the farming country?”

“Not so good.”

Anna turned at the strong voice from the end
of the table on her left. Jacob O’Brien spoke for the first time
that night. He leaned back in his chair, blue eyes relaxed as he
gazed at his father. He’d shaved before the meal, revealing a
strong jaw and chin. His face was tanned, but not nearly as
chocolate as his Mexican companions. The skin where his beard had
been was almost as tanned as the rest of his face.

“They weren’t too keen on so much traffic
coming through their pastures, especially when some of the cows
knocked down a few fences.”

That seemed to be all he was going to say on
the topic, so another of the cowboys across the table jumped in. “A
group of the farmers came at us with
las pistols
, but Jacob
calmed them down with quick talking and gifts.” The Mexican turned
to Jacob and grinned.

“Gifts?” Mr. O’Brien quirked a brow.

“I gave them a few head of cattle for their
trouble, then they seemed fine.”

The same cowboy across the table continued,
“After that, we stayed away from the fences and kept the cattle
moving. By the time we reached Kansas, though, the herd was
footsore and tired.”

After the meal, Monty called orders to the
men in Spanish while Aunt Lola helped Anna carry dishes into the
kitchen. As Anna returned to the dining room, Jacob wrapped an arm
around the older woman and planted a kiss in her strawberry grey
hair. “It’s awfully good to be home, Aunt Lola. You look more
beautiful than I remember.”

The older woman swatted him playfully. “Your
eyes are blind from the sun. And it’s the food you missed, not this
old biddy,” she teased.

Just then, Jacob’s gaze stopped on Anna in
the doorway, and he stepped back a bit. “The food was good, ma’am.
I’m much obliged.”

With that, he settled his hat on his wavy
brown hair and strode past her. He soared a head taller than her as
he moved by. She couldn’t deny the fact that of all the compliments
Anna had received on her cooking, none had warmed her stomach like
this man’s simple words.

Jacob avoided the house as much as possible
over the next few days. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be home,
but the pretty young woman in the kitchen made his stomach do
flips. And it wasn’t something he was used to. For so many years,
the only woman he’d spent much time around was Aunt Lola. Unless
the women he met at church on Sundays counted, but he didn’t stay
in their presence any longer than he had to. Some people called him
a loner, he was sure. Truth was, he was more comfortable and alive
with the cattle and cowboys than around strangers in town. Monty
and his family were like brothers to Jacob, and ranching ran in his
blood. The long days and hard work were part of the life.

And now, sitting atop his horse studying the
herd, Jacob’s chest surged with pride. Their herd size had gone
down some since they’d taken a thousand head to Kansas, but most of
what was left were cows due to calve in the spring, so their stock
count would more than double.

Marshall stamped his hoof and flicked at a
fly. He patted the horse on the shoulder. “Hey boy, you gettin’
bored? How ’bout we go look for strays by the river?”

Jacob reined the horse alongside Monty and
told the man his plans. Even though Jacob was part owner of the
ranch and rode with the cowpunchers every day, Monty was still the
foreman and was responsible for all the cowboys. Jacob respected
the man’s leadership and instincts and considered him a true
friend.