“Where’s my makeup?” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Cody’s chest. “What did you do with it?”
“Why do you think I did anything with it?” Cody asked, dropping his hat back on his head and tugging the brim down.
“I know you hate it when I wear makeup.” The girl’s voice grew even more shrill, but then her eyes shifted past Cody. She frowned, pointing a crimson-tipped finger at Vivienne, suddenly distracted by her presence. “Isn’t that the woman you were talking to at the diner? Why is she here?”
Cody’s broad shoulders lifted in a sigh as he clenched his fists. “This is Vivienne Clayton. Vivienne, this is my little sister, Bonnie.”
Bonnie’s heavily made-up eyes narrowed and Vivienne understood Cody’s difficulties with his sister’s beauty regimen. The girl could use a lighter hand with the eyeliner and the mascara. And those bloodred lips. Way too harsh for her coloring and age.
“Vivienne Clayton?” Bonnie took a step closer, her frown deepening. “Are you related to all those Claytons who are coming back to town just for the money?”
Vivienne smiled, choosing to ignore her insult. “I’m George Clayton’s granddaughter, yes. And George Junior and Marion were my parents.”
“Uncle Ted said you were from New York,” Bonnie added, her dark-ringed eyes holding hers. Then Bonnie looked down at Vivienne’s shoes and her eyes grew wide. “The soles of your shoes. They’re red. Are they made by—”
“Christian Louboutin? Yes.” She held up her foot, angling it so Bonnie could see the signature red leather soles on her black pumps. “I bought them at Saks.” They had cost her a ridiculous amount of money, but they were her first purchase with her first paycheck. And a down payment on a promise she’d made to herself to bury her country roots deep in her past. She was now a New Yorker. And the shoes told people she was going somewhere, which was all the way to the top of her profession.
Bonnie’s face beamed at the sight. “Seriously?” she breathed. “You’ve shopped at Saks?”
“Yes. And Bergdorf Goodman.” Never bought anything there, but Bonnie didn’t need to know that. Now she was obviously impressed and Vivienne felt the little bit of her self-worth, chipped away by Cody’s easy dismissal of her work, restored.
“That supposed to mean something?” Cody asked.
Bonnie looked Vivienne over more carefully. “Do you do your own makeup?”
“Of course I do.”
“Could you teach me?”
“Miss Clayton is here to work,” Cody snapped. “She won’t have time to fool around with girlie stuff like makeup.”
Bonnie pushed out a heavy sigh, then turned and stomped out of the cookhouse. As she left, Cody turned back to Vivienne. “Just so you know, I’d prefer it if you keep your distance from my sister.”
Annoyance vibrated through her. “I realize I’m here to work, but may I ask why?”
Cody adjusted his hat on his head, then he looked down at her, his eyes narrowed again. “My sister is only fourteen, and she is my responsibility while my parents are overseas. I take that responsibility seriously. I don’t want her turning out… I don’t want her getting all flighty and full of highfalutin ideas.”
Vivienne’s spine stiffened so quickly that she was surprised she didn’t hear a snap. “And you think I’ll give her those highfalutin ideas?” The chill in her voice was a mistake, but she resented the implication that she would be a bad influence on his little sister.
Cody gave a pointed glance at the shoes she had recently shown off. “Living out on the ranch here is hard, and it’s not for prissy city girls.”
And before she could protest that comment, he strode out of the cookhouse, the echo of his booted feet on the wooden floor underlining his comment.
As the door shut behind him, relief mixed with puzzlement drifted through her.
She got the job. Not the gourmet cooking job she’d hoped to get, but a job nonetheless.
As to living out here with Cody Jameson watching her every move?
It would work, she told herself, smoothing her sweaty palms over her skirt. She would make it work.
Her gaze flicked to the window over the large double sinks. Through the fly-specked glass she saw pastures, then hills, then mountains.
And not a house, or a road or any other sign of civilization. She shivered again, wondering if she had what it took to stay out here.
“I still can’t believe my big sister will be living out on a ranch with cows and horses and no department store within a hundred-mile radius.” Brooke dropped another empty suitcase on the pink-and-white checked quilt and unzipped it, her long blond hair swinging over her cheeks. She flashed Vivienne a cheeky grin, her dark blue eyes sparkling with humor. “Sure you won’t suffer from shopping withdrawal?”
Vivienne glanced around the bedroom of their family home remembering pillow fights between her, Brooke and Zach. She thought of the time Zach had found a snake and threatened to put it in her bed. She smiled as she rolled up a pair of socks. Since coming home, she’d been assailed by memories, many of them happy. Maybe being back in Clayton wouldn’t be so bad. She turned her attention to Brooke and her skepticism. “Give me some credit, sis. I grew up in this town.”
“And when you weren’t at Hair Today buying yet another bottle of hair product, you were forever grazing through old fashion magazines Mrs. Donalda brought into the library specially for you.” Brooke held up a pair of distressed blue jeans. “I can’t imagine what Cody would think about these.”
“I highly doubt he would even notice. They’re just blue jeans.”
Brooke found the heavy cardboard price tag still dangling from a leather string attached to the button and whistled. “I’ve paid this much to put tires on my car.”
“They are renowned for their good fit and quality.” Vivienne grabbed the offending pants from her sister, curbing a surge of guilt at how much she had paid for them. She bought them on a self-indulgent pity splurge. After a particularly brutal dressing-down from her new boss, which came on the heels of her boyfriend breaking up with her because, in his words, “We are on different levels,” whatever that meant. “And I wouldn’t have bought them if I knew I’d be out of work a week later.”
“Still, I never thought I’d see the day that someone who would pitch a fit if she broke a nail would end up cooking on a ranch in Clayton.”
“I’m hoping I’m a little older and wiser now,” Vivienne said, closing the suitcase and zipping it shut.
“With a lot more clothes and makeup.” Brooke pulled up the handle for the suitcase and grabbed Vivienne’s oversize cosmetic bag.
“Speaking of makeup, what’s with Cody and his little sister?” Vivienne followed her sister out of the bedroom, bumping the cases down the narrow stairs.
“Okay, that leap in logic makes perfect sense,” Brooke joked.
“Work with me, sis. Bonnie asked me to help her with makeup and I thought Cody was going to have a coronary. He told me specifically to stay away from her.” Vivienne grunted as she got the last suitcase to the bottom of the stairs. “I get the impression he thinks I’m a bad influence.”
Brooke shrugged as she rolled the suitcase through the living room. “From what I hear, Cody is pretty protective of his little sister, though I’m not sure why he would think you’re a bad influence.” She shot a mischievous glance over her shoulder. “Unless you’ve picked up some evil vices in New York or Paris I’ve never known about.”
Vivienne was about to give her sister a snippy retort, but the front door burst open and a little boy came toddling through, his little feet pumping as he headed directly to Brooke. He had a baseball cap on backward and his T-shirt was stained with chocolate, as was his ear-to-ear grin.
“Book. Book,” he babbled, reaching up for her.
“A.J., stop running,” she heard a deep voice call out from behind him.
Brooke’s face softened as she let go of her sister’s suitcase and bent over to pick up the son of
her now-fiancé.
Gabe Wesson stepped into the house and, without breaking stride, walked straight to Brooke.
Vivienne felt a twinge of envy as she watched this tall, smiling man rest his hand on her sister’s shoulder, then bend over and brush a light kiss over her mouth. Though she hadn’t been around when Brooke and Gabe started dating, it hadn’t been difficult to hear the change in her sister’s voice whenever she called. And when she met Gabe and his little boy, A.J., ten days ago when she moved back into the old frame house she and her siblings had grown up in, she understood why.
A.J., now secure in Brooke’s arms, batted his father’s face with one chubby hand, his grin even wider.
Gabe dragged his attention away from Brooke and A.J. and frowned as he saw the suitcases surrounding the two of them. “So who’s moving out?”
“Vivienne got a job on the Circle C. Working as a cook.” Brooke shifted A.J. in her arms, giving him a quick hug.
Gabe’s one eyebrow lifted in disbelief. “Really?” he drawled, his incredulous tone telegraphing his opinion of that situation.
“What? You think I can’t do that?” Vivienne asked, planting a hand on her hip.
Gabe raised his hand. “Sorry. Wasn’t implying anything. It’s just you lived in New York, and I can’t see you cooking on a ranch—”
Brooke placed a fingertip on his lips. “And you should stop now,” she said with a wry smile.
“A good chef can adapt the menu to the patrons,” Vivienne said, grabbing a suitcase handle in each hand and lifting her chin in defiance.
“Of course you can,” Gabe said with a placating tone, reaching for the other suitcases. “And it looks like you’re well equipped to head into the fray.” He grunted as he dragged the suitcases down the stairs, Brooke and A.J. right behind. Vivienne brought up the rear, then groaned as a deputy sheriff’s car pulled up in front of hers. Great. Just what she needed. More comments from yet another family member.
Zach Clayton eased himself out of the car, and when he saw Gabe toting the suitcases, he frowned.
“Who’s going on safari?” he said, sauntering toward them.
“If I have to hear one more comment about how many suitcases I’ve packed or doubts about how I’ll survive on that ranch, I’m hitting somebody,” Vivienne muttered, her suitcase bumping over the sidewalk to the waiting car.
“No hitting,” A.J. cried out, sounding alarmed.
Brooke patted his back soothingly. “Aunty Vivienne was just teasing, honey.” She shot her a questioning glance. “Weren’t you?”
“Barely.”
“So, my little sis is going to be a ranch cook,” Zach said as he helped Gabe heave one of her heavier suitcases into the trunk of her car. “Great advertisement for that fancy cooking school you went to.”
Vivienne ignored him as she opened the back door of her car and laid her smaller suitcases inside. “I like how everyone is so confident of my abilities and so supportive of my decision to actually make some money while I’m waiting for Grandpa’s money to come through,” she snapped as she slammed the car door shut. “I’d like to think it shouldn’t be hard to feed a bunch of cowboys. I’m not the prima donna everyone seems to think I am.”
She spun around and faced a sheepish-looking Zach and equally embarrassed Gabe.
“Sorry, sis,” Zach said, with a light shrug. “Just having some fun with you. We know you’re an amazing cook, and that’s why it seems like a stretch to see you working out there.”
Vivienne knew that and she knew she was being touchy. She also knew her lack of confidence was tied up in the reason she was fired from her previous job.
“Well, I could be working at the resorts—”
Zach held up a hand. “Not a chance, girl. That pass over the mountains to get there is too dangerous.”
In spite of her pique with her family, Vivienne felt a flush of affection at her brother’s protectiveness. She knew it was because he cared, and it had been a while since she’d had that.
“Anyhow, this is what I chose to do,” she said, tempering her stern tone with a smile. “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you all again.”
Zach pushed his hat back on his head and heaved out a sigh. “That’s one of the other reasons I came here. I still haven’t heard anything more from that private investigator I hired to find out what’s happening with Lucas. He said he would let me know if I should send in help, but nothing. I wish I knew what to do.”
“Our mother would say that we should pray,” Vivienne said with a melancholy tone, leaning back against the car. She hadn’t prayed in years. Not since she left Clayton. As far as she was concerned, God had died when her mother had. She hadn’t talked to Him since.
“I have been,” Brooke said, cuddling A.J. close as if to protect him from the trouble Lucas was involved in. The information the family had received so far was that their cousin was trying to rescue a child orphaned by a drug gang deep in the Everglades. The bits of information were confusing and frightening and no one knew what they could or should do. Lucas wasn’t in direct contact with any of them.
“If I don’t hear anything in the next week or so, I’ll have to make a decision about getting the police in Florida involved,” Zach said, heaving a heavy sigh.
Vivienne wished she knew what to do to help her brother and Lucas. Zach had always been the one to take care of her and Brooke. Their father, distracted by work and the ongoing feud with his uncle Samuel’s side of the family, was an absent father. And when he died in a car accident that also killed his brother—their uncle Vern—Zach had taken the role of protector to Vivienne and Brooke. It had made him older than his years, but it had also brought the three very close.
“Should I take this job then?” she asked, suddenly concerned. “Or should I stay around to help find Lucas?”
Zach gave her a tight smile and shook his head. “There’s not much any of us can do, sis. So just go and work. We’ll keep you informed.”
“I can come back whenever you need me,” she said. She suspected that Cody Jameson might not mind if she decided to quit. He seemed reluctant enough to hire her.
Zach patted her shoulder. “We’ll keep in touch. Cook good at that ranch and make us Claytons proud,” he said, giving her a quick, hard hug.
The various paraphernalia of his police belt dug into her waist as she hugged him back, its heft and weight a grim reminder of Zach’s ongoing responsibilities as deputy sheriff of the town.
Then he strode back to his car and was gone.
Vivienne watched him go, then turned to her sister and Gabe. “I should leave, as well.” She hugged her sister and gave A.J.’s cheek a quick stroke. “Love you, little guy.”
“You’ll stay in touch?” Brooke asked, shifting A.J. to her other hip like a seasoned mother. She had grown up quickly in the past few months, Vivienne thought. Her little sister no longer.
“I’ll be back for groceries sometime or other,” Vivienne assured her. “I’ll contact you then. Find out what’s happening with Mei and Lucas.”
Brooke gave her another hug, Gabe flashed her a quick smile, and then Vivienne was in her car and pulling away from the curb. In her rearview mirror, she saw Gabe drop his arm around Brooke’s shoulder and pull her close. The domestic scene tugged at her heart, and again Vivienne felt a surge of envy blended with joy for her sister’s happiness.
Would she ever find what Brooke and Gabe seemed to have?
Chapter Three
“Where are you going?” Cody called out to his newest hired hand, Bryce, as he walked toward the cookhouse. “Your horse needs to be brushed yet.”
The young boy turned and then dropped his gloved hands on his narrow hips, brown hair hanging in his eyes. “I’m beat. I’m hungry and tired from riding all day. My horse is fine.”
And with that he spun around, skinny arms pumping as he ran off.
Cody pressed his lips together, sending up a quick prayer for patience, which was immediately followed by guilt.
Lately his prayers were the “Help me, help me” kind sent up in a rush between getting the horses ready for the roundup, getting the last batches of hay hauled and trying to keep his sister from driving him crazy. He hadn’t had time for proper devotions in weeks. He just prayed God understood.
Cody sighed as he dismounted, his own legs stiff from riding all day. He should insist the boy do things the right way, but he was new and Cody didn’t have the energy to follow through.
Not after spending almost twelve hours in the saddle sorting through the first batch of cows and calves and getting them ready to move in a couple of weeks.
“Why’s Bryce heading for grub?” Ted grunted as he swung his leg over the saddle. “Didn’t see him brush his horse down.”
“He says he’s tired.”
“Aren’t we all? And you’ve been working since five o’clock. Kid needs an attitude adjustment.”
“He’s willing to live out here for ten days at a time, so I put up with him.” Cody led his and Bryce’s horse to the tack shed, the slow thud of the horses’ hooves telegraphing their own weariness.
“And hang out with spineless Les Clayton and that no-account Billy Dean Harris when he’s not working.”
Which made Cody think of another Clayton now inhabiting the place. Vivienne had come to the ranch last night, dragging enough suitcases to outfit every woman in town. But he hadn’t had time to talk to her. Instead he got Cade, her cousin on the other side of the Clayton family, to help her.
“As long as Bryce is working for me when he’s here, I can’t tell him who to hang out with,” Cody replied.
“Food smells good,” Ted exalted as he pulled the halter off his horse. “Wonder what Vivienne whipped up for supper. Bet it’s a whole lot better than grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“She better not be making some fancy stuff we can’t choke down” was all Cody said, jerking on the saddle’s cinch. He still felt like he’d been railroaded into hiring Vivienne. And Ted’s constant singing of her praises all day didn’t help either. It was annoying.
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