A chorus of “Si” and “Welcome, Senorita” echoed from the men just as Mr. O’Brien and Edward appeared in the threshold. After Mr. O’Brien introduced her brother, he motioned for them to be seated. “I’ll tell you new folks who these cowpunchers are after we let ’em start eating. It’s hard to hold ’em back from the grub for niceties.” The grin he shared confirmed his teasing.
When they were all seated, the group bowed their heads in unison as Mr. O’Brien spoke a prayer of thanksgiving in his deep baritone voice. Anna peeked at the Mexican cowboys. She imagined cowboys as rough men who had no manners and little respect for God or the law. These men looked the part, but their earnest expressions during the prayer didn’t fit her expectations.
At Mr. O’Brien’s “Amen, ” hands flew everywhere—grabbing biscuits, passing plates, and spooning soup. As soon as the food hit the men’s plates, however, it disappeared into their open mouths. For a few minutes, Anna could only stare. They ate almost like savages.
A hand touched Anna’s arm. Aunt Lola winked. Heat crawled up Anna’s neck and she dropped her gaze to her bowl. It was empty. She’d better get some food before the men ate it all. There would likely be no leftovers.
As the vigorous pace of eating finally slowed, Mr. O’Brien leaned back in his chair and spoke up. “Well now, let me introduce my boys to you both. This here’s Monty Dominguez, our foreman. He’s been with me since he was old enough to toss a rope, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend or foreman. Next to him is Bo, Monty’s little brother. Monty finally talked him into comin’ over from Mexico a couple years back, and we keep him around to make sure Monty stays out o’ trouble.” A snort issued from Monty as Bo elbowed him in the side. A grin split the younger man’s handsome face.
Mr. O’Brien continued, “And down at the end are Miguel and Donato, Monty’s cousins. You’ll find most of the cow hands on the Double Rocking B are related to Monty somehow or another. We’ve decided they’re a pretty good family with a healthy dose of cow sense. Besides, it’s easier for Monty to keep ’em in line if they’re related to him.” A round of guffaws and elbow pokes erupted as the men heckled each other. Anna glanced in Edward’s direction. A wide grin spread across his youthful face.
After supper was complete and all the dishes washed and put away, Anna followed Aunt Lola into the den for the evening Bible reading. Mr. O’Brien had invited Edward and her to join them for the devotions, after which he’d challenged Edward to a checker match. Her brother had loved the game since he was a young boy and was always looking for a new partner with whom to hone his skills.
The den was a comfortable, homey room with a large fireplace and rustic wood planks covering the walls and flooring. Over the fireplace hung a large painting of a man, woman, and small boy, set in an elaborately carved mahogany wood frame. The man was a much younger version of Mr. O’Brien, with the same dark blue eyes he and his cousin both shared. The blonde woman by his side was lovely, with a joy that seemed to radiate from her as she hugged the young boy. The eyes of both the woman and the lad were also blue but were a lighter sky blue whose crystal clarity might have been a little creative liberty from the artist. Was it possible for real people to have eyes that striking? Altogether, the little family reflected a love that tightened Anna’s chest and sent a familiar burning sensation to her eyes.
“Marty had that portrait painted not long after they finished building the main house.” Aunt Lola’s voice broke into her thoughts. She’d been caught staring.
She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Mr. O’Brien’s booming voice as Edward followed him into the room. They all settled into chairs around the hearth, even though the weather was too warm for a fire. Mr. O’Brien filled every inch of a large wing-back chair as he sat with the Bible in his lap and spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. Aunt Lola, beside him in a worn rocking chair, picked up a bundle of yellow yarn from the basket at her side and began crocheting tiny stitches. Anna and Edward lounged on a strait-back sofa across from them.
As Mr. O’Brien read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount from the book of Matthew, Anna’s eyes drifted around the room and rested on an empty wing-back chair beside her between the sofa and the fireplace. Whose chair was that? Probably an extra for guests.
While Mr. O’Brien continued his reading, the sun disappeared into darkness, cloaking the room in a cozy atmosphere like a warm blanket on a cold night. Anna released a long breath, allowing her fears to slip away. It was more peaceful out here on the ranch than any place she had been. Like she was closer to her heavenly Father—as if she could reach out and touch Him. Thank you, Lord.
* * *
As the morning sky lightened into pinks and oranges the next day, Anna furiously whipped hotcake batter. She’d urged Aunt Lola to sleep late today, figuring the woman hadn’t had a chance to do so in many years if she cooked for the men each morning. The cowboys would show up any second ready to scarf down a stack of hotcakes, and she only had one plate piled high for the men. It was definitely more challenging to time the food right when you were feeding eight hungry mouths instead of just Papa and Edward. She’d get better at this, though. That was for sure.
While the last skillet of hotcakes finished sizzling on the stovetop, Anna carried a plate piled with bacon and a large pot of coffee into the dining hall. Mr. O’Brien greeted her from the doorway, his brown hair slicked down and his moustache still damp. “G’morning, Miss Stewart. It smells better than a candy store in here.” The resident twinkle in his eye reminded her of Papa. “The rest of the cowboys should be back from the cattle drive any day now, if they didn’t get held up anywhere, so I guess I’d better eat my fill now while I can still get some.”
Anna’s head jerked up from the coffee she poured. “The rest of the cowboys, sir?”
“Yep, my son, Jacob, and ten other cowboys are on the cattle drive, taking our stock to market in Kansas. That’s the closest market town with a railroad stop, so we get much better money for ’em there. It took about a month to drive the cows and make it back last year, and they’ve already been gone longer than that on this trip. I’m sure Jacob has things well in hand, though.” The fatherly pride on the man’s face sent a pang to Anna’s heart. Her father used to look at her with that same expression.
Later that morning, Anna finished wiping down the work counter in the kitchen and glanced around before hanging her towel on a peg. The stove top glistened and the pans were all hung on their hooks. She’d swept and scoured the floors in both the kitchen and dining room until they shone. Possessiveness warmed Anna’s insides. This was her kitchen now. Her own domain to concoct tasty dishes and desserts that would make the cowboys’ mouths water. She’d always loved the response when people enjoyed her cooking, but it would be so much better now that she was able to craft the delicious meals in her own kitchen.
Anna let out a contented sigh and went in search of Aunt Lola. The men had taken packed lunches with them for the day, and supper preparations wouldn’t begin until early afternoon. Maybe there was something else she could help with?
Anna found her in Mr. O’Brien’s office dusting the shelves and was rewarded with a warm smile. “And how are things, my dear? Thank ye so much for my morning break today. I’m afraid me old bones wouldn’t allow for much sleepin’ in, but I spent a glorious morning with my Heavenly Father and that was the best gift of all.”
Anna returned her smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. The kitchen is clean for now, so I’ve come to see how I can help you in the house. Should I make the beds or sweep anywhere?”
“Nay, there’s nothing needs doing that can’t wait a while. Why don’t you take some time for yourself and look around a bit. A pretty young thing like you needs to get outside and stretch your legs. Now get on with ya.” Aunt Lola made a shooing motion with her hand.
Anna bit the corner of her lip. “Are you sure I can’t help you with anything?” She’d been hired to work, not enjoy the sights.
“If I let you do it all, there won’t be work left for me, and me old bones will get lazy.” With that, the woman turned back to the bookshelves and Anna had the distinct impression she’d been dismissed.
Despite her guilt over not helping with housework, Anna was excited to explore the place. Edward had been assigned barn chores that morning. Anna had not even been out to gather eggs or milk the cow, and she was eager to see what manner of animals lived on a cattle ranch.
Anna stepped off the porch, tilted her head back, and soaked in the warm late-summer sun. It wasn’t quite as scorching as it had been during August when they’d first arrived in Seguin and was a welcome relief after having been in the house for so long.
She strolled toward the corrals near the barn. Half a dozen horses milled around in the larger pen, but one mare’s unusual color caught her eye. The horse’s body was a mixture of white and black hairs that didn’t form a pattern until they reached her rump, which was white with black spots, each about the size of Anna’s fist. The mare’s face also had a patch of white that splashed over both blue eyes. The horse was striking and unlike any of the solid or paint horses she’d seen before.
Approaching the corral fence, Anna held a hand through the rail and called, “C’mere, girl.” She didn’t really expect the horse to come, but the animal ambled over with a bored expression. “Hey there pretty girl. How ya doin’?” Anna crooned as she stroked the horse’s neck then reached up to scratch the universal favorite spot behind her ears. The mare sniffled a soft nicker and leaned forward to blow in Anna’s face. A giddy warmth flowed through her. It was so good to be around animals again.
* * *
That evening, Anna sat at the dinner table, pleasure warming her as the men dove into the food she’d prepared. Shepherd’s Pie was an easy meal to cook but usually a hit with the recipients. For dessert, she would surprise them with fresh blackberry pies made from the berries she’d found in the pasture behind the house.
“Senorita Stewart, you sure do know your way around la cocina,” Donato declared, admiration in his voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. O’Brien agreed. “I haven’t tasted mashed potatoes this creamy since I traveled back east before the War. You southern gals sure do know how to satisfy a man’s belly.”
Anna’s face heated, but she managed to mumble, “Thank you,” before dipping her head to focus on the food on her own plate.
As the conversation turned to horses and cattle, Anna released a breath. The men discussed rotating the horse string kept near the barn for daily use, and the seed of an idea planted itself in her mind.
When the next lull broke the conversation, she spoke. “Mr. O’Brien, would you, by chance, have an extra horse available that I could ride on occasion? Only when I have an extra few minutes between chores.”
She shouldn’t have asked. What would the man think of her loitering around during broad daylight when she should be working? After all, he was paying her to cook and clean, not go on joyrides across the countryside.
Before she could retract her words, though, he spoke. “By all means. Take Bandita, the Appaloosa mare in the corral. She’s a good ride and will take care of you.”
Anna’s heart leaped at the possibility. “Is she the mare with the black spots on her hindquarters and the white mask across her eyes?”
“The very one. Horses with the spotted color pattern are called Appaloosas after the Palouse Indians that bred them. You won’t find a hardier breed around, nor one that can run faster.”
Anna couldn’t hold back the grin that begged for release. She planned to test that last fact.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next few weeks flew by as Anna developed her routine. Each day began in the barn, milking the Jersey cow, Stella, and gathering eggs from the chickens, then back to the kitchen to begin breakfast preparations. After the meal, the men filed out to hit the saddle, leaving Anna and Aunt Lola to a silent house. The only exception to the routine was Sundays, when the entire crew donned a fresh set of clothes and headed toward the little white church on the outskirts of town.
Anna’s favorite time was the late mornings after the men left for the day and the kitchen was quiet. Aunt Lola usually cleaned upstairs, and Anna could talk to God while she worked. For some reason, speaking aloud drew her closer to her Heavenly Father.
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 th
e 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.
The Rancher Takes a Cook Page 4