Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel (2 page)

She’d barely scraped by. But they didn’t need to know that.

She looked down at her feet. “I only bought the boots because I thought they were cute.”

Crazy Hoss shook his head and a tsking sound came out of his beard as he headed back to his register.

“He’s been in a bad mood all day because he volunteered to help with a cattle drive, and everyone in town has been telling him he’s too old for it,” Annie explained.

“Oh.” Marlee relaxed. “I’m no cattle drive expert, but you seem in fine shape to me,” she said firmly, meeting his twinkly gaze.

“Fit as a fiddle.” He settled back onto his stool.

Marlee nodded at him before turning back to the vegetables. She knew something about how painful it was when people didn’t believe in her abilities.

There wasn’t as much variety as she’d have found in a city grocery. But everything was high-quality and had clearly come from well-tended gardens. There were bushel baskets of garden green beans, apples, peppers, spinach, tomatoes, and even a few cabbage heads.

Annie polished an apple with the edge of her apron, and then nestled it back in with the others. “We don’t have a grocery store, but we will when the new resort opens. I hope they’ll carry mangoes and papaya, too. I’ve been dying to make a good fruit salsa.”

Marlee’s new job was really a working interview. If she made the cut, she could stay in this tiny town. Already, she could imagine spending time with Annie after a shift at the ranch, pouring over new recipes, and concocting fun menus together.

But right now, she had to focus on making sure she didn’t show up at her working job interview empty-handed.

She bit her lip and did some quick math, figuring poundage and prices. She thought about how much money she had left. She’d searched for a job all summer but had found nothing until this opportunity came up. She was down to her last few dollars. She’d have to be careful how much she bought.

Maybe it would be safer to buy nothing. But Marlee couldn’t resist the call of those beautiful juicy-looking apples, or the way the rich smell of soil and green goodness clung to the spinach, green beans and peppers. Even the tomatoes seemed to hold sunlight under their thin skins.

“Get as much as you like,” Crazy Hoss said from his perch near the register. “I’ll deliver ‘em for ya. I’m headed out to the Paycoach ranch in a few minutes anyway.”

She couldn’t pass up that offer. Besides, she really should bring good produce with her. Who knows what the ranch had. Some chefs wouldn’t care. Some chefs didn’t pay much attention to the quality of their ingredients.

She might not have done well on the written tests in culinary school, but she knew how to pick good ingredients.

Her hands shook as she selected the perfect apples, and then scrutinized cabbage, beans and spinach.

This new job had to go well. She had to get this position.

Because going back home would never work.

Not when it would mean moving back into Mom and Dad’s basement.

Nope.

This time, failure was not an option for Marlee Donovan.

* * *

Back at the train station, an impossibly tall cowboy leaned against a post, his long legs crossed, hat slouched over his eyes.

Marlee tip-toed when she got to the platform. She stopped, and fished for her phone. If he’d nap for a few moments longer, she could snap a picture. Send it back to Tanya. Her roommate would get more than a few giggles at the sight of this authentic cowpoke.

As soon as she held up her phone, he uncrossed his legs, tipped his hat back, and pinned her with black eyes.

She’d never seen lazy melt off a man so fast.

She froze, breath corralled in her chest.

Caught in the act.

And he didn’t look happy at all that she’d been about to turn his lazy nap into a permanent image.

She forced a shaky grin.

Way to go, Marlee.

Less than an hour in this town, and she’d already scored two embarrassing moments. She cleared her throat. “I’ve never seen a real cowboy before.”

“You’re late.” He stared at her with hard black eyes, mouth set tight, as if somebody had skewered the corners.

“Oh—” She gulped. So he was her ride. They’d sent a rude cowpoke to pick her up. She jammed her phone back into her jeans and raised her chin. “It’s not my fault. The planes aren’t flying into Looking Glass Lake today, for some reason. My flight was canceled, so I had to take a historic steam train for tourists.”

He looked at her, eyes unblinking.

Her neck heated, and she tossed her hair. “It’s no big deal,” she said. “You caught a few z’s in the shade, so what’s the problem?”

He crossed his arms and shifted his stance. Wider, if that were possible.

She swallowed. She refused to be intimidated by a hired hand. “And anyway,” she said. “I’m not late. The train was early, so I stopped for produce.”

Still, he said nothing. He swiped shaggy black hair off his forehead before jamming his hat back on.

She’d never seen eyes so dark. Black as night, even in the glint of mid-day sun.

“Besides, it might be wise to treat the new ranch chef with a little respect,” she said, her words coming fast.

She crossed her arms and arched her brows. Best to show him right now that Marlee Eileen Donovan was no pushover. “I could make every meal for the next six months a misery for you.”

His cheek muscle twitched.

Maybe this cowboy had a small sense of humor.

“In fact…” She mustered her most charming southern belle smile. She frosted it with the kind of fake sweetness only a real southern girl could whip up. “I could make nearly every meal talk back to you for hours. Since you need to brush up on your conversational skills.”

Something flashed in his dark eyes. A single dimple surfaced on his left cheek and then vanished.

Marlee blinked. Was that a smile?

Before she could decide, he stuck out his hand.

“Jett Maddox,” he said.

His rough hand closed over hers, and he pumped it once in a quick and efficient shake.

CHAPTER TWO

A zing went through Marlee’s arm as Jett’s large hand engulfed hers. She wasn’t a weakling. She logged plenty of time in the gym, and had always considered herself stronger than most women.

But in his hand, her bones felt as delicate as sugar lace. She shivered. She pulled her hand away quickly and then hitched up the knife roll slung across her back.

Jett didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. He jerked his thumb toward a battered and dusty old pickup truck. “Saddle up.”

Then, without waiting for her to introduce herself, he grabbed her suitcases and turned on his heel.

He lifted them like marshmallows, two in each hand.

Early that morning, those suitcases had given her a fierce backache, dragging them from the car to airport. But he swung them easily, the handles of each bag crammed into his beefy hands, and the bottoms of them splayed out. He had to hold them far away from his body so they wouldn’t bash into his bow-legged stride.

In the movies, cowboys were terse. So maybe he wasn’t rude. Maybe he was just terse. She had expected to like terse better than she actually did. Terse was uncomfortable. Terse meant she had more time to notice small things, like the way his muscles moved in his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves. And how the tiny lines near his eyes were etched, white against sun-bronzed skin. He’d spent so many hours outside, even his hat couldn’t beat the sun all of the time.

Oh, man. If only she’d had a chance to snap a picture for Tanya. But she didn’t dare make a move for her phone. He’d probably melt it with his glare if she even touched it.

Instead, she followed him.

He heaved her suitcases into the back of his truck with a thunk. A puff of dust rose, and she quickly turned her head away and then climbed onto the front seat. It might be best not to see the condition of his truck bed. This was the west. She should expect dust and dirt.

She could always get new suitcases when she finally got this job.

“It was a beautiful trip up here,” she said. She reached behind for the seatbelt, but Jett gunned the motor and backed out of the parking space. She yelped and tried to brace herself as the sudden momentum threw her forward, nearly knocking her head on the dashboard. He slammed on the brakes, treating her to a side of whiplash as he threw the truck into gear and roared out of the gravel parking lot.

Marlee‘s hands shook as she snapped her seatbelt. She gave it a good tug. “I can see you’re a man who doesn’t waste time,” she said.

He grunted, but didn’t look at her.

So much for making a good first impression.

Good thing the only person she really needed to impress out here was her new boss, and not the hick-town chauffeur they’d sent to pick her up.

* * *

While Marlee chattered about everything she’d seen on the train ride to Looking Glass Lake, Jett was lost in his own thoughts.

It was hard to believe Silas Paycoach was really gone.

Silas was the best boss Jett had ever known. He was a big quiet man who had been as gentle with his family as he’d been with the livestock.

Lord, help them. Comfort them.

It was a short and silent prayer, but Jett knew God heard every word.

Jett tightened his grip on the steering wheel as a wave of sorrow crashed through his chest.

The Paycoach family hadn’t been the same since Silas’ death.

Jett had never seen Silas’ grown children act this way. Matt, Cheyenne, and Jaxson walked like they were in a trance, faces white and stiff. Austin couldn’t speak to anyone without blowing up at them, even though the doctors said he’d make a full recovery. West had started drinking.

Cody hadn’t been able to make it home in time for the funeral. Flights from Alaska’s Beaufort Sea weren’t easy to come by at the last minute.

And Logan, the second-oldest Paycoach boy who was Silas’ right-hand man, had simply left all the ranch stuff fall by the wayside. He hadn’t even appointed someone to take care of it in his absence.

They all refused to leave their mother’s side as they waited with her at the hospital. With every beep of the equipment, and every whispered conversation among staff members, Thelma Paycoach was reminded that the grip death had on her family hadn’t loosened yet.

Maybe the worst was yet to come.

So Jett had decided to step up and take charge. The cowpokes had low morale. Men slunk around the ranch, gloom hanging heavy over the corral and bunkhouse. Somebody had to man up and be the leader.

Not that he was the best leader. He’d be perfectly fine to spend the entire day on the back of a horse, or out mending fences. A whole day with nothing but earth and sky and the soft friendly sounds of horses blowing and neighing. Nothing but him, his horse, and God. No people. No talking. Just the wind.

But no one else wanted to step up. And the men had grown increasingly restless and grumpy as the days shortened and their late start to the cattle drive lengthened. No one could expect Logan Paycoach to head up a month-long cattle drive when his father had passed away last week and his sister lay unresponsive in the hospital at this very moment.

So in the end, there was only one thing he could do. Set aside his own heavy grief, and deal with the day to day business of a ranch spinning out of control.

There’d be time to sort through his sorrow later.

After the job was done.

“…don’t you think?”

Jett snapped his attention back to the present. The city-girl cook he’d picked up had wedged a question somewhere in her chatter. She’d just caught him zoning out.

“Well?” She dug at him, brown eyes sharp.

He drug his gaze back to the road, brain scrambling for something to say. Something all-purpose. “Depends on how you look at it,” he finally muttered. He snuck a quick look at her.

She sat, her gaze sweeping him from head to toe.

Like she was some fancy supermarket scanner trying to tally his worth.

Well, let her look. He had nothing to hide.

Maybe she’d detect his irritation for her constant yammering. It wasn’t respectful to encroach on someone else’s thoughts with chatter.

Out here, folks knew that.

“I guess that’s true,” she said.

He let out a small breath, relieved he’d passed the test.

“If a person was born here,” she went on, “maybe the sky wouldn’t seem so big to them.”

Okay. Maybe he could cut her some slack. The woman was new. She wasn’t used to the west, or the idea that silence was valuable.

Around these parts, a man didn’t take away somebody’s silence for no reason.

“But to me,” she said, “this sky is huge. I know people call it Big Sky Country, but I had no idea it would feel so—”