One Heart to Win (21 page)

“An interesting conclusion.”

She had a feeling he would have laughed if he ever laughed. But at least she’d stated her concern. “Will you keep it in mind?”

“I keep all possibilities in mind, Miss Fleming. It’s my job. But please don’t let Hunter hear you call me a babysitter. He already dislikes my tagging along.”

“Then why does his father feel it’s necessary?”

“Because he’s actually trying to keep the peace with the Warrens until the wedding. And while Hunter might be a charmer with the ladies, he can get a bit aggressive when it comes to the Warrens. I temper that.”

“You hold him back?”

“No, my presence stays his hand.”

“How?”

“I was hired to protect the Callahans. He won’t start any fights with the Warrens if he thinks I’ll draw my gun and start shooting them. He enjoys a good fistfight but he’s not out to kill anyone.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “Would you shoot the Warrens?”

“Hasn’t come to that.”

“But would you?”

He closed the door instead of answering. She hoped he simply hadn’t heard her repeat the question rather than refusing to give a direct answer. Then she got so busy making her soup that she didn’t even notice when Degan finished his bath and left the room.

Fortunately, she did notice when Hunter showed up for his bath, or else she might have burned herself when he pressed himself against her back as he leaned over her shoulder to sniff
what she was stirring. She stiffened her posture in an effort to push him away.

“Smells like I’ll be eating in town tonight,” he teased.

“Would you have gotten this close to your previous cook?” she demanded.

“I couldn’t lean over Old Ed. He was too tall.”

“
Don’t
do that again.”

Unrepentant, he said, “Don’t take away my excuse to do this.”

This
was his placing a kiss on the side of her neck. Then another, and one more even lower. She gasped and tried to ignore the gooseflesh his kisses were causing but couldn’t, since now her skin tingled so deliciously all the way down her back. She closed her eyes, fighting the pleasurable sensations rising inside her that she’d never before felt. It would be so easy to turn around and . . . oh, God, what? Put her arms around him? Encourage him? Was she insane?! That was no way to deal with a fiancé she wanted to get rid of.

Instead, she swung around with her spoon raised like a weapon, but he’d already jumped backward, his grin wide.

“Besides,” he added before he disappeared into the bathing room, “you smell better than what’s in the pot!”

She didn’t smile, but she didn’t get angry either. She simply picked up her cookbook and walked out of the kitchen to the porch, where she intended to stay long enough to avoid seeing Hunter when he came out of the bathing room. The incident made her realize she had to do or say something to make him stop treating her in such a cavalier, playful manner. Innocent flirtation or not, not only was it inappropriate for the son of the house to be taking advantage of one of the servants, but he was so charming and handsome that she was
beginning to worry he might succeed. Did he even care how many hearts were going to be broken when he married his intended?

Her plan was working better and more quickly than she’d expected. She was finding out what kind of man Hunter was—and not liking it one bit. All signs indicated he would make a lousy husband.

Chapter Twenty-Five

H
ER FIRST ATTEMPT AT
making dinner, and no one was going to be there to eat it. Tiffany was surprised that she felt disappointed about that—until she actually tasted her soup. It was watery and the meat she’d added was too tough to chew. She almost threw the cookbook away until Andrew suggested she might have missed something in the recipe. She read it again and found the part about letting soup cook all day. A few hours simply wasn’t enough.

But at least she could serve Zachary and Mary, who were staying home for dinner, some of the best bread she’d ever tasted, thanks to Degan. Andrew brought out some canned beans to go with it and carried the large pot of soup down to the ice cellar, where it would keep overnight so she could continue cooking it tomorrow. Thank goodness for Andrew. She would have just thrown the cookbook away if he hadn’t suggested she reread the recipe. She mentally patted herself on the back again for hiring the boy. He’d even offered to get the bread started for her tonight after she’d read in the cookbook that you
had to let bread dough rise overnight. Degan had been right about that. It was supposed to magically puff up and be ready to bake come morning. She’d believe it when she saw it.

She went out to the front porch for a break before she finished cleaning up the kitchen. She was so surprised by what she saw that she stood transfixed for a moment. The sky nearly made her gasp. The tree line was far enough back from the house that she had an unobstructed view of bright oranges and reds filling the sky. Now this was something she’d never see in a city of tall buildings.

She sat down on the long swing that hung from the porch roof. She didn’t even think to dust off a spot first before she did. She was going to have to make a habit of coming out to enjoy the sunset each evening—while she was there. She wouldn’t be seeing things like this when she went home.

A group of the hired hands rode past the house on the way to town. She didn’t see Hunter with them. Another group came around the other side of the house. Degan and Hunter’s brothers. He wasn’t with them, either, but they had his horse, Patches. They stopped to wait for him, and in unison they tipped their hats her way. Then the door opened next to her and she turned to see Hunter looking at her with his powder-blue eyes.

“Wait up for me, Red?”

She stiffened at the sensual tone he’d just used, a clear indication of what he wanted her to wait up for. More teasing or was he serious this time?

“No.”

“I promise to make it worth your while.”

“No.”

He shrugged and was soon riding off with his brothers. She
wished she could follow them to see how cowboys truly raised hell, since she was sure Degan had left out a few particulars. No, that wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to spy on Hunter. She had no doubt he was heading straight back to Pearl.

“Am I really supposed to take bread and beans up to Mary for dinner?”

Tiffany winced. She’d forgotten about serving dinner to the owners of the ranch. Zachary was standing in the front doorway. He didn’t look disappointed, but he certainly sounded it.

“Mr. Callahan, I warned you. I know as much about cooking as you do. Actually, you probably know more. I am determined now to learn, but today’s effort failed because I didn’t read the fine print. I’ll prepare a tray—the bread is delicious, by the way—for you and Mrs. Callahan. If I can’t do better by the end of next week, I’ll fire myself so you won’t have to.”

His lower lip quirked upward a little. “I saw the book you left on the table. You’ll figure it out.”

Famous last words, she mumbled as she went to the kitchen, where she served up the Callahans’ meager dinner and handed the tray to Zachary.

She went back to the porch for a few more minutes, enjoying the last of the bright colors on the horizon before they all faded to dusk. But she nearly screamed when she felt something move against the back of her ankle, just above her shoe. Thinking of snakes, she yanked her legs up so fast the swing swayed under her. It took a moment for her to get up the nerve to bend over to look under the seat. Then she laughed when she saw the little, chubby, white body with the flat, pink nose and big ears.

“So you don’t wander far, huh?” she said aloud, remembering Jakes’s earlier remark. “And I bet you missed your dinner, too. Jakes would have already gotten rid of his slops, and we
didn’t exactly have any today. Come on, I’ll get you a bowl of beans, but you can’t have any of that delicious bread when we’re going to be eating every last crumb of that.”

She was halfway down the hall before she realized the little pig wouldn’t have understood a word she’d said to it. She started to turn around, deciding to just take it back to its pen instead, only to hear the patter of little, cloven feet on the hardwood floor behind her. It might not have understood her, but for some reason it still wanted to follow her. Then she realized it was probably tracking dirt into the house and immediately scooped it up in her arms. The pig held itself stiff for a moment before it melted against her. She glanced down and saw that it had even closed its eyes. It looked so content it would probably be purring if it were a cat! It made her laugh again. It had been so long since she’d had anything to laugh about, she was actually grateful to a pig. Even that made her laugh!

Holding the piglet with one arm in case its little feet were dirty, she scooped out the last of the beans onto a plate and set them both just outside the kitchen door. It wasn’t a lot of food, but probably enough for such a small animal. She had no idea how old it might be, but it wasn’t even a foot long yet. She left the door open to let in a little extra breeze while she finished cleaning up the kitchen, but a few minutes later a strong gust of warm wind blew it shut. She quickly closed the window on that side of the room, too, wondering if a storm was brewing. She hoped the pig would go home.

She turned away from the window, only to find the animal at her feet again, looking up at her expectantly. She shook her head, scooped it up once more, and walked it back to its pen. It wasn’t full dark yet and she could see that most of the piglets were nursing from their mama. She chuckled at herself for
thinking the wandering one would go hungry tonight when the sow was still feeding her young.

Tiffany didn’t stay long to watch. The wind wasn’t steady, but from time to time it gusted from the north, strong enough to whip her tied-back hair over her shoulders and play havoc with the hem of her dress. She hurried back to the house. At least the clouds hadn’t blown in before sunset.

Chapter Twenty-Six

T
IFFANY COULDN
’
T SLEEP, EVEN
though she was tired. She stood at the open window for a while, which faced the back of the house and all the outbuildings, not that she could see any of them in the darkness other than the bunkhouse, where a lantern was still burning. Her room was uncomfortably warm tonight because, as she’d done in the kitchen, she’d had to close the two windows on the north wall of the bedroom when a gust of wind came in so strong it knocked an old painting off the wall. She was hoping to catch a little breeze at the back window, the only one she’d left open, but the wind was blowing in the other direction.

The rain hadn’t started yet, but thick clouds were racing past the moon, obscuring it. She wouldn’t see the men when they returned unless they lit a lamp at the stable, and she doubted that she’d hear them either with the wind howling occasionally. But as late as it was, it didn’t look as if they would come back tonight. Women and booze. The booze probably made it unsafe for them to ride home until they sobered up. Or
the threatening storm would make them decide to stay inside where it was dry. She could just imagine where Hunter was keeping dry tonight.

He was the reason she felt so unsettled tonight, and knowing that he’d gone to town to see his paramour. He was probably with Pearl at that very moment. He’d asked
her
to wait up for him when he was on his way to see another woman!

Anna might be right, that what he did prior to the wedding was irrelevant, yet he was cheating on her right before he was supposed to start courting her! He should be wrapping up his casual affairs instead of trying to start a new one with Jennifer. But was he really doing that? He’d almost kissed her today, yes, but he might consider that nothing to raise a brow over. And he’d obviously just been teasing her with those kisses on her neck in the kitchen. He couldn’t know the powerful effect they had had on her.

Even though she didn’t care for his behavior, she hoped Hunter could help her defuse the feud without her having to sacrifice herself to do so. His cavalier, seductive behavior and what he’d told her at the unfinished house by the lake actually suggested that he did not want to honor the arranged marriage either. Once she stopped impersonating Jennifer, she needed to discuss that with him without letting her anger get in the way. And why the devil
was
she even angry at him when he was supplying her with the perfect reason for why she wouldn’t marry him. She ought to let him prove it beyond a doubt. He was certainly trying to—if it wasn’t all innocent play with him.