“I can’t stay here today—duty calls. So you’re on your own,” Hank said, then he paused, shot her a questioning look.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I actually make a very good chili.”
Hers was from a can, but she did add in extra beef and some chunky vegetables...and she’d been complimented on it, too. And while she wouldn’t have forty cans of chili to start her off, she would have some online recipes. And most of the day to figure things out.
“If you need me...” He didn’t have to finish that. She had his cell number.
“I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t feel quite as confident as she sounded, but with the odd looks she got from Hank when she checked out YouTube tutorials, maybe being on her own would be easier.
“Okay,” he said, giving her a curt nod. “See you later.”
Hank disappeared behind the swinging door, and just for a moment, she wished she had an excuse to call him back. Hank was the closest thing she had to a friend here on her father’s ranch...and she liked his company. He didn’t smile quickly or easily, but when he did, she felt like she’d achieved something. He was serious and self-contained—an open challenge to her more outgoing personality. She was curious about his life, too—what forces had created the solemn cowboy? But Hank wasn’t here to hold her hand, no matter how nice it might be to have a rugged cowboy fixing that intense gaze on her all day long. She blushed at the thought. Hank was good-looking, but it was more than lanky height and clear blue eyes...he had the air of a man who was experienced in life, and while she knew she had no business meddling with him, it did make her take notice.
You’re too young for him to take you seriously. She could hear what her mother would say in that place in the back of her mind where Winona’s voice would always live. Don’t lose your heart to a man who isn’t losing his.
Had her mother made that mistake with Louis? Avery wished she knew.
Avery looked around the kitchen at the dirty pots, the plastic bins full of plates and bowls. The majority of this job would be the cleaning up, she could already tell. But she wasn’t actually here to be a cook. She’d have to find a way to cross paths with her father if she was going to make good use of this time. From what she could see of the ranch, Louis was a prosperous man. His employees ate well, and they all seemed happy enough to be working here, so she could assume they were paid decently, too.
Avery hadn’t had much growing up. Her mother worked hard, and they lived in a small apartment above the flower shop that was technically a one-bedroom place, but her mother had artfully transformed a walk-in closet to be a second bedroom for Avery. They hadn’t traveled much, except for one trip to Disneyland when Avery was about ten. Her mother had saved for years to make it happen, and when she received a small inheritance from an aunt, they’d packed their bags for the only vacation that Avery and her mother would ever take together.
And all that time, her father was running a ranch with cattle and barns, ranch hands and horses... Had her father known about her mother’s pregnancy but hadn’t wanted to be involved? It was possible. Maybe he was an accomplished liar, though he didn’t seem the type. But if he hadn’t known about Avery’s existence, that meant her mother had simply denied her daughter a relationship with her father and the financial stability that would have come with it.
She hadn’t decided what she felt about all this yet. Her mother never did anything without good reason, and that included the little things like buying candy along with the groceries or getting a new pair of shoes. Everything had to be rationalized. She could still remember her mother’s voice. “You haven’t outgrown your last pair of runners, but you will soon. So I’ll get you this new pair, but they have to be a size bigger so that they’ll last. Or we could wait... But the sale is on now, and I don’t want to miss out on that...”
If there had been a father who could have sent money for school clothes, or even provided them a vacation once every couple of years...that would have made a big difference. So why would her mother have kept Avery away from her dad?
She heard movement behind her and turned to see a teenage girl standing in the doorway. There were still a few men exiting the building, and she could hear their voices suddenly drop off as the outside door banged shut. The teenager was slim and tanned with dark hair and gray eyes that were disconcertingly light compared to her dark complexion.
“Hi,” Avery said.
“I’m Olivia Harmon,” the girl said, crossing the kitchen and holding out her hand. Avery’s heart sped up at the young woman’s name. Her sister. They looked nothing alike, but genetics could be like that. She wiped her palms on her apron and shook Olivia’s proffered hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m the new cook.”
“I heard.” Olivia put her fingers into her back pockets and looked around. “I just came by to pick up a couple of pack lunches for Dad and me.”
“Going out together?” Avery asked, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, we’re going riding.” Olivia headed to the large refrigerator and pulled it open. “Aren’t there any left?”
“I don’t think so. Hank made an even thirty-five this morning,” Avery said. “Do you want me to make you a couple of lunches?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Olivia said. “I can do it. I won’t keep you from whatever you were doing.”
The dishes—that was what Avery had been doing. She had the big sink filled with hot, soapy water, and she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.
“That’s nice that your dad goes riding with you,” Avery said as she grabbed a scrub brush and got to work.
“Yeah, we’ve been riding together since I was little.” Olivia pulled sandwich fixings from the fridge. “He’s actually heading out to check on some leaking pipes that are being fixed, and I’m tagging along.”
“How old are you?” Avery asked.
“Sixteen. Why?”
“You look older than that,” Avery said quickly. “You could pass for nineteen easily.” What teenager didn’t want to look older than her years? That might cover up any weird-sounding curiosity on Avery’s part.
“How about twenty-one?” Olivia asked with a grin.
“Not quite.” Avery chuckled. She wasn’t about to encourage anything untoward.
“Why, how old are you?” Olivia asked. Only a teenager would ask a grown woman that question and not bat an eye.
“Twenty-four,” Avery said. “So very, very old.”
“Only moderately,” Olivia said and Avery laughed. “Uncle Hank says that you might not stay too long?”
“No, I—” Avery wondered how much to say. Eventually, Olivia would know who she was, but she couldn’t guarantee the girl would like it. She didn’t want to be telling any lies when she’d be telling them the whole truth soon enough. “My mom passed away a little while ago, and I’m going to have to go back and run her flower shop.”
“Oh...” Olivia nodded. “My mom died a couple of years ago, too. It’s hard. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” For some reason, this girl’s sympathy was comforting. She dropped the scrub brush and pulled down her rubber glove to expose a bracelet. “Mom gave me this years ago. I still wear it everywhere. It reminds me of her.”
Olivia crossed the kitchen to take a closer look. She cocked her head to one side, reading the inscription on the silver bangle.
“‘Home is where the heart is...’” Olivia read aloud.
“It isn’t terribly unique,” Avery admitted. “She got it from one of those gift catalogues that schools use for fund-raising. But she said that no matter where we were, as long as we were together, that was home.”
The memory brought tears to her eyes. When they found themselves in long lineups, or in the fragrant warehouse where they picked up their order of flowers for the store, they’d remind each
other that home was where the heart was, and in the most literal sense possible...it was right where they stood.
Home, sweet home, her mother would say, and she’d shoot Avery one of those private smiles. And nowhere felt more like home than inside Winona’s Wilderness.
“Nice,” Olivia said with a nod. She pulled her dark hair away from her ears and pushed forward some diamond studs. “These belonged to my mom.”
“Pretty,” Avery said. “It’s nice to have a reminder of her, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
They exchanged a smile, then Olivia headed back to the counter where she was assembling the lunches. It was good to bond with the girl over something real. They’d both lost their mothers, and while Avery had lost hers when she was a grown woman, she guessed that the hole left behind would be the same at any age.
“My dad isn’t available, though,” Olivia added, her attention riveted to the job in front of her.
“Available for what?” Avery asked, pulling a dripping pot out of the water. She squeezed the nozzle and shot hot water over it, rinsing off the soap.
“You know...dating. Women. That kind of thing.”
“Oh!” Avery looked over her shoulder again. “Do you think I’m coming on to your dad or something? I can promise you that I have no interest in your father in that way—”
“No, no...” Olivia laughed self-consciously. “It’s just that Uncle Hank said...”
“Said what?” Avery asked. Hank had been discussing her with her father’s kids?
“Just that he thought you might be interested in Dad, that’s all.”
That was both irritating and alarming. She’d thought she’d kept her secret pretty well, but to have him assume that she was after Louis for romance... It was even more angering to think that he’d been talking behind her back about it, too. She was an employee here, and while she had taken the job for her own reasons, she knew her rights.
“Tell Uncle Hank that he’s got it wrong,” Avery said drily.
“Don’t tell him I said anything.” Olivia tossed the lunches into a bag. “It wasn’t like he was complaining or anything. We were just talking about you—”
“Yeah?” Avery stayed focused on the dishes in front of her. “What about me?”
“That you’re pretty, that’s all. Nothing to get offended over.” The fridge door shut and Olivia’s footfalls moved toward the exit.
“I’ve got to go,” Olivia said. “Nice to meet you, though. See you!”
And with that, Olivia headed out the swinging doors. Avery hadn’t meant to scare the girl off, but then, Olivia hadn’t intended to stay and chat. She looked out the window, the wrong side of the building to see anything.
That’s my sister. The thought was still settling in as she stood there by the sudsy sink. She had two siblings, and she wondered how they’d feel about finding out their father had sired her almost a decade before they were born. Would they be angry? Would they be glad to know her? Sixteen-year-olds weren’t known for their emotional maturity in these kinds of situations. Olivia’s worry seemed to be that she’d want to sink her claws into Louis, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Except, she did want something from Louis...
Avery could see a turn of dusty road, and two riders came into view for just a moment. Louis and Olivia were headed out on their father-daughter ride. They rode easily side by side. Louis appeared to say something, and Olivia laughed. Then they were out of sight again.
Avery hadn’t come for romance or inheritance. In fact, when she’d planned this, she thought that she only wanted to meet her father...let him know that she existed. But now that she could see what she’d missed out on, she realized that deep down she wanted more than a simple acknowledgment. She’d spent twenty-four years without a dad, and she could feel the injustice of that as she thought about her father with the daughter he knew about. Avery wanted more than to announce her presence, she wanted what Olivia had with their father—a relationship.
* * *
HANK PULLED OFF his work gloves and headed over to the fence where Mr. Harmon stood with two horses. It was only the second week of June, but they had summer heat already. It would be a warmer year than usual. They could only hope that wouldn’t contribute to a drought. The sun beat down on his shoulders, and sweat trickled down his spine. The men were working on a sprinkler system that had lost water pressure, and Olivia peered over shoulders, watching the work up close. That was a good thing—she’d own this ranch one day, or at least half of it, and she’d need to know how everything was done. Saturdays on the ranch with her dad she learned just as much as she did Mondays in school. If not more.
“How’s it going?” his boss asked.
“Found the leak. We’ll be done soon. Hopefully this is the last one.”
Mr. Harmon nodded, pursing his lips. His practiced gaze moved over the workers. “How’s the cook?”
“She’s—” What could he truthfully say? She was a warm body filling a position, but she wasn’t any good at it. “She’s trying real hard.”
“The guys can’t live on burned food, no matter how pretty the cook,” Mr. Harmon said, his voice low. “Now, I know she isn’t long-term, but I don’t want to start losing experienced help because the food is awful, either.”
“I hear you,” Hank agreed. His boss was right. A ranch was only as successful as the men who worked it. And if they lost qualified, experienced workers, everything would suffer. The Harmons had always been good to their employees, and the older rancher had a reputation around here that made his operation one of the most desirable places to work. Louis wasn’t going to want to toy with that—even for someone as pretty as Avery.
“The other problem is that I’ve been hearing how the men are talking about her.” Mr. Harmon’s expression was unimpressed. “First of all, I don’t want her harassed.”
Olivia stood not far off, and Hank could tell she was listening. He agreed—women needed to be treated with respect around here.
“Of course. I’m on it,” Hank said.
“And second, you know my policy about employees dating. Granted, it’s never been much of a problem because we don’t tend to have many women working here, but I can see that it might be an issue now.”
Mr. Harmon gave Hank a level look, and Hank resisted the urge to shift his feet. He’d found their new cook quite alluring, too, but Louis didn’t have to worry about him. He had too much to lose here to risk it all on a cute cook.
“The policy is what it’s always been,” Hank replied. “Any staff caught fraternizing are let go. Period.”
He nodded slowly, then pulled out his handkerchief and mopped the back of his neck.
“Do the guys have it under control here?” his boss asked.
“Yeah, they’re set.”
“Good. I want you to head back to the kitchen and make sure that at least one meal comes out fully edible. If she can’t pull it together soon, I’m going to have to let her go, anyway.”
Professionally, Hank couldn’t argue with that. A cook wasn’t much use to anyone if she couldn’t do her job. It shouldn’t matter to him—she was a complete stranger who’d dropped into their laps and sparked his suspicions early on. He should be glad to see the back of her...but he didn’t like the idea of Avery being let go.
“Let me see what I can do,” Hank said with a sigh. “About all of it.”
Hank stopped by the workers to make sure they had their last instructions, then headed toward his vehicle on the side of the road about a hundred yards off. The day was already hot, and it wasn’t yet noon. By the time five rolled around, the men would be hungry, thirsty and exhausted. Their patience would start wearing thin if they didn’t get a decent meal soon.
Avery was a terrible cook. She showed up on time, she worked hard and she cared, but she lacked the ba
sic kitchen skills to put out a meal that people could eat. If Mr. Harmon let her go, the cooking would fall to Hank until they could find someone better. He didn’t want to go shorthanded while one of the other ranch hands worked the kitchen, and Hank had no intention of being stuck in there all day, either. The Harmon ranch had very little fat to pinch, something in which Hank took personal pride. He was the manager, and keeping this place humming without too much waste was his responsibility. Besides, while he should be just as happy to be rid of a potential problem, he was loath to see her go. She made life around here a little more interesting.
Hank hopped in his truck and looked over his shoulder to where the work was being done. Mr. Harmon looked in his direction once, and raised his hand in a wave. The boss had been clear enough about what he wanted, and Avery probably deserved to hear the truth—most of it, at least. If she wanted to keep this job, then they had some work to do.
Hank drove up the winding gravel road to the canteen. He normally liked this drive, where the countryside spilled out in front of him in rolling hills and the straight lines of the fields. He liked to listen to the radio on low and breathe in the scent of grass. But today, he was frustrated. If he didn’t find a way to improve Avery’s cooking, then she’d be canned, and that was the thought that stayed prominent as he drove up toward the low, wide bunkhouse.
He wasn’t supposed to care—not on a personal level, at least—but he was getting attached to her, despite his better judgment. Had it been that long since he’d had some female company? It wasn’t just that she was attractive, either. He liked listening to her talk, and he talked around her a whole lot more than he ever intended to. Was this something riskier that he should get control of now?
He parked out front and hopped out of his truck, ambling into the cool dimness of the canteen. All was silent and still. Was she even here? He angled around the tables and pushed open the swinging kitchen door.
Avery stood with her back to him. Her hair was up in the hairnet, except for one curling tendril that fell down her pale neck. She was looking at something in front of her, and he could just make out the tinny voice of a cooking show.
Her Cowboy Boss Page 5