Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers)

by Brenda Sinclair

  She needed to regain her equilibrium and pulled out of his embrace.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to kiss you since last night…” he confessed.

  Chapter 6

  “It’s okay.” She didn’t elaborate or confess she’d wanted him to kiss her again. Spotting the dogs off in the distance, she called, “Here, Barney!”

  Sandy’s and Barney’s heads whipped up and they turned toward her. Both of them raced back to the track, and Sierra smiled watching Barney’s ears flopping with each bound.

  “Here they come,” observed Chad, sounding a little breathless. “Old Sandy’s going to get a lot more exercise with Barney on the ranch. And I don’t think Barney will wander off with Sandy here to play with.”

  The dogs halted at their feet, tongues lolling and eyes darting from one human to the other. “You guys want a treat?” asked Sierra. She sounded a little breathless, too. Locking lips with a gorgeous cowboy did that to a girl.

  “A treat? Do these guys need a nap would be a better question,” suggested Chad, laughing. “Especially for Sandy. He’s probably ready to drop.”

  “Okay, let’s go back to the house and the dogs can have a nap while I do some meal planning.” Sierra glanced toward the ranch house.

  “You guys go ahead. I’m going to catch up with the team and talk to the driver. I forgot to ask Charlie, and I’m curious what the time was.” Chad leapt onto the fence, grasped the top rail and vaulted over, landing on the other side. “Celia can show you around, answer questions, and get you set up with all that cooking stuff you’ll need to know.”

  “Cooking stuff? Please, stop with all this technical terminology,” she teased, feigning a sudden state of being overwhelmed by raising the back of her hand to her forehead.

  Chad chuckled as he wandered away, “See you at suppertime.”

  Sierra raced the dogs to the house, losing shamefully. Perhaps she should ask if there were any weights or a treadmill on the ranch.

  She and the two dogs stumbled through the deck door into the kitchen. Sierra spotted Celia sitting at the large rectangular pine table that monopolized the majority of the kitchen floor. The older woman’s attention was glued to some sporting event on the TV in the corner.

  Celia turned and rose from her chair.

  “Please, we need water!” Sierra gasped, dramatically, and then grinned. “These two guys have been having so much fun together. Barney is going to love it here.”

  “I hope you have fun here, too, Sierra.” Celia filled a metal dog dish at the kitchen faucet.

  “I hope we didn’t interrupt your show.”

  “Not at all. My team is so darn far behind they’ll never catch up.” She finished filling the first dish and started on the other. “I saw you talking to Chad out in the yard. You two young people make a lovely couple.”

  “Celia Wilson, are you a matchmaker?” inquired Sierra, concerned with exactly how much Celia saw. Had she witnessed that steamy kiss they shared?

  “Not matchmaking, just making an observation.” Celia set the dogs’ dishes by the back door and the dogs lapped greedily. “These furry boys have their water. Now, let’s chat over that cup of coffee.”

  “Sounds good,” said Sierra. The air-conditioned house felt wonderful after wandering all over the ranch for an hour on a hot June day.

  “And I need to tell you the secret to cooking on this ranch,” whispered Celia, knowingly.

  “Secret?”

  “Yes, secret. Cook well, cook lots, and don’t take any guff from those cowboys,” confided Celia, with conviction. “And don’t pay no mind to Mrs. Parker’s criticism. She’s got her undies in a twist because she can’t run this kitchen the way she did for more years than she’ll admit to.”

  “Chad mentioned she’d recently been confined to a wheelchair.”

  “Yes, she was. And knowing her the way I do, she’s not gonna take to it like no duck to water. You’re in for a few arguments, Sierra.”

  “Arguments?” Sierra frowned. “What would Mrs. Parker be arguing with me about?”

  “Who’s deciding on menus? Who’s doing the ordering? Who’s going to…”

  “Okay, I get it. And I suppose she intends to be the one doing all that?”

  “Oh, yes. She’ll fight to the death before she relinquishes control of this kitchen. She’s already run off a half dozen cooks that Chad hired. She criticizes their recipes, finds fault with every dish placed on the table, blames them for wasting food, and nags them…”

  “Whoa. I don’t care what she’s gotten away with in the past. She’s not going to intimidate or badger me. I’ve put up with all the crap that I’m ever going to tolerate. It’s not happening again, ever!” Sierra stood hands on hips, feeling certain fire blazed in her eyes.

  “Glad to hear it. I’m looking forward to working with a cook like you. I worked alongside Mrs. Parker for years, and every cook Chad hired since, even a few fine gentlemen. But you seem like someone with more determination in your little finger than the whole lot of them other folks had in their entire bodies. I believe you’ll give back as good as Mrs. Parker gives.” Celia patted Sierra’s arm.

  “Let’s get started. We’ll have a coffee and then decide on our plan of attack,” whispered Sierra, conspiratorially. “When did you say Mrs. Parker would be home?”

  “On Monday, I suspect.”

  “Perfect,” said Sierra, grinning. “Now, there’s something I need to know. What’s Charlie’s favorite dinner?”

  “Meatloaf,” answered Celia.

  Sierra grimaced at the thought of having the oven on for an hour in this heat, cooking enough meatloaf to feed a dozen people. And then she remembered the house was air-conditioned.

  “Meatloaf it is.”

  * * *

  Sierra loved the enormous country kitchen with spacious pantry and high-end appliances. The red and white plaid decor felt homey, and sunshine filtered through the white lace cafe curtains that covered the rectangular window above the sink. A dozen matching chairs stood around the enormous pine table in the center of the room. She’d been cooking and baking up a storm, and the banquette bench in the bay window alcove was the perfect spot to snuggle up and read while she waited for the stove’s timer to ring. She’d never cooked on a ranch before, but she didn’t imagine there were many rural kitchens that matched this one. Clearly, Mr. Parker had built this beautiful kitchen for his wife’s benefit. No wonder she’d loved being in charge!

  Sierra had planned meals for the next two weeks and ordered supplies. Of course, Chad had showed her the splendid vegetable garden out behind the garage the first day she arrived. The next day, she’d almost fainted when Celia took her through the greenhouse hidden against the south side of the house with access from the mudroom. Having all these fresh vegetables at her fingertips was like finding a goldmine. Besides saving money, being able to create meals with produce minutes after picking it was a total treat.

  Today was Sunday—her second day on the ranch—and she’d spent the entire afternoon working in her bikini in the privacy of her garden area, enjoying the fresh air and adding another layer to her tan. She’d questioned the wisdom of wearing a bikini on a ranch crawling with cowboys, but Celia had been right. No one had come around to bother her. Now, there wasn’t a weed in sight. Standing back to admire her hard work, Sierra hadn’t felt such a feeling of accomplishment in ages.

  She slipped into the house to get a cold drink. Soon, she returned to the backyard and sat on the sandy bank beside the nearby creek and dipped her toes in the cool water while she drank her iced tea. “Ahh,” she sighed and smiled. Her fingernail drew circular patterns in the condensation that had formed on the glass.

  Butterflies dipped and hovered in an erratic path as they journeyed across the yard. A bee startled her when it flew past her ear. She jumped and gasped when iced tea splashed onto her bare leg. She downed what remained in the glass and headed back to the garden.

  Feeling refreshed, she pi
cked a small bucket of peas, the first harvest of the year. The carrots and beets were still too small but they’d be ready soon. And they’d have new potatoes in another couple of weeks, too. She couldn’t wait.

  Lastly, she picked salad greens, and pulled radishes and green onions and stuffed them into a plastic tub atop her peas. She’d add a few cherry tomatoes she’d noticed were ripe when she toured the greenhouse. She’d make a salad with vinaigrette dressing for supper. If the cowboys downed the garden salad with gusto, then Chad would be right. The cowboys would eat anything she prepared.

  She stowed her garden tools in the shed, settled the tub on her hip, and headed up the stone paver path toward the house. A blue jay called from a nearby tree as she passed by. “Hello, up there,” she answered, shading her eyes in an attempt to spot him. As she continued on her way, a frog on safari from the creek hopped onto the path, crossed over the patterned walkway, and disappeared into the grass.

  She rounded the corner of the house and glanced over at the barnyard. She almost tripped on a stone paver when she spotted Chad standing in the corral. She stopped dead in her tracks. He slowly circled the corral, leading one of his Thoroughbreds. She had no idea what he was doing, but he’d taken his shirt off to do it.

  Sierra sighed, totally mesmerized. She loved hot weather! Especially when a sweltering day drove a beautiful male specimen like Chad to remove his shirt, allowing her to admire his above-the-waist attributes.

  She set her plastic tub down and wandered toward the corral, drawn to him like steel to a magnet. Her gaze never left Chad’s half-naked body. God, he was a good-looking man. His muscular chest glistened with sweat in the afternoon sunshine, and his Wranglers fit perfectly. She couldn’t decide whether to stare at his butt or at his tanned, bare chest. To heck with it, she’d ogle both.

  She approached the corral, stepped up onto the bottom rail, and leaned against the wooden top. The rough wood scratched her bare skin, and she realized she was only wearing the pink polka dot bikini she’d worked in all afternoon. She crossed her arms in an attempt to at least cover her chest area while keeping her balance on the rail.

  Chad reached up, affectionately stroked the horse’s neck. Would his hands stroke her body with equal gentleness? Oh, yeah! She felt her inner thighs tingle and grew wet just thinking about it. Her breath caught as she noticed the outline of his biceps indicating the strength in his arms. He continued leading the horse around the corral. Was the animal injured and he was evaluating its health? He rubbed a hand down the animal’s leg and Sierra imagined him doing the same to her limbs.

  Just then he turned. “What are you doing down here?” he called, shock evident on his face.

  The horse side-hopped, startled by Chad’s voice. “Easy, there. It’s okay, boy.” While he reassured the nervous animal, his eyes never left her.

  Judging by the surprised expression, discovering his cook standing here in a bikini was likely the last thing her boss expected. He was eyeing her like she was a prime rib dinner after a hard day’s work! She felt her face redden. She should have high-tailed it to the house and grabbed a cover-up.

  Sierra stood, speechless. He’d asked her what she was doing down here. Darn good question. How would she explain her sudden appearance at the corral? Oh, I just thought I’d come down here and drool over your physique. Not likely. “He’s a gorgeous animal, isn’t he? Was he hurt? Why were you checking him over so closely?” She abruptly shut up, realizing she was babbling.

  “Bruised his foreleg a couple weeks ago, but he seems healed and ready to return to racing.” Chad patted the animal’s neck and then slipped the halter off over his head. The horse charged away and pranced around the corral.

  “I’m glad he’s okay,” said Sierra.

  Chad turned and headed over to join her. His appreciative gaze roamed her body and a broad smile creased his face. “Were you sunning on the deck?”

  As he moved toward her like a cat stalking a mouse, the words coming in for the kill crossed her mind. “I...I was working in the garden,” she stammered, hopping off the rail and taking a step back. She resisted the urge to bolt for the house like a frightened filly. “Doing a little tanning at the same time. Fresh peas and salad for dinner.”

  Chad climbed up and over the rails and jumped down onto the ground beside her. He grabbed a long-sleeved plaid shirt off the top rail and pulled his arms through it. He slowly fastened the snaps, his gaze riveted to her body.

  Darn it. If she’d noticed his shirt hanging there, she would have asked for the darn thing to cover herself. Too late now. She folded her arms across her chest again, tugged at a strand of hair that fell across her eyes.

  “Maybe I should take up gardening?” He winked.

  “Weeding is so glamorous. You’ll love it,” she teased, nervously.

  “I’d enjoy the scenery for sure.” He stood hands on hips, shamelessly looking her up and down.

  “Okay, time to start dinner,” she declared and headed toward the house.

  “Meet me in the hot tub tonight around ten o’clock,” he called. “I’d love to see more of that bikini.”

  * * *

  All evening Sierra couldn’t decide if Chad had been teasing, or if he actually expected her to join him in that enormous hot tub atop the back deck. He didn’t mention anything about it at dinner, just headed back out to the barns after he ate.

  She’d spent the evening playing cards with Celia who’d headed off to bed a few minutes ago. Sierra glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to ten.

  What the heck.

  Almost every muscle in her body ached from all the work she’d done in the garden today. Even the hot shower she’d taken before making dinner hadn’t helped. She slipped into her bedroom, donned her new blue-and-white-striped bikini, and grabbed a fluffy white towel out of her en suite.

  Ten minutes later, Sierra had removed the hot tub cover, settled herself on the bench seat, and sat soaking in the soothing hot water. She looked heavenward, spotting satellites and watching for stars as they appeared in the darkening sky.

  Last night, she and Barney slipped outside after dark. After her dog did his final business for the day, she and Barney snuggled on a deck lounger and stared up at the sky in disbelief. Living in the city, Sierra had never experienced star gazing before. The vastness of the universe amazed her. Were her parents and grandparents looking down from that star-filled expanse overhead?

  “Grandma, can you see me?” she whispered aloud. “Are you proud of all I’ve accomplished in life so far? I wish you could give me a sign or something that you’re watching over me.”

  Her grandma had encouraged Sierra’s dream, insisting she would become a chef one day. Now, she felt her grandmother’s presence sometimes, especially when she was cooking. Or at least, she imagined she did. Surely, her grandma approved of her hard work and dedication to her career.

  Sierra jumped when the deck door opened, the sound intensified in the still night air.

  Chad appeared wearing a pair of stylish black swim trunks, with a towel draped over one shoulder. He carried a bottle of Chardonnay in one hand and two crystal wine glasses in the other.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chad set the wine bottle down for a second and tossed the towel onto a lounger.

  He stepped into the hot tub, took a seat across from her, and set the bottle and stemmed glasses down on the ledge circling the tub.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, smiling.

  “You’re forgiven for startling me.” Sierra smiled. “And I’d love some wine. Thank you for thinking to bring it out.”

  “You’re welcome.” Chad poured wine into the glasses and handed her one.

  “Celia showed me the wine cellar, and I’m in love.” She took a sip of wine, set her glass down, and slipped further into the water until she was covered to her chin. “I wasn’t certain if you were serious, if you’d show up, but I was hoping you would.” Darn it, that last part just slipped out. Hope
fully, he’d think her flushed face was due to the steamy water.

  “As you get to know me, you’ll learn that I always mean what I say.” Chad took a sip and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That wine is hitting the spot.”

  Her eyes riveted to his chest muscles and settled on his well-defined pecs when he stretched his arms wide along the ledge. Thankfully, she’d set her glass down or she’d have dropped it. His biceps bulged. She recalled their embrace and hot kiss beside the racetrack yesterday. She wanted his strong arms around her again.

  “Man, this feels so good. I pulled a muscle today, working with the horses.” He massaged what she guessed to be his thigh with his hands, but his entire lower body was hidden beneath the water.

  A large red patch on each shoulder indicated he’d worked shirtless in the sun a little too long this afternoon. Did the sunburn hurt? Or was he even aware of it? Should she offer to apply lotion when they got out of the water? Of course, that would involve touching his beautiful body. Her heart flipped over in her chest just thinking about it.

  “My muscles ache from over-enthusiastic gardening today. The heat does feel wonderful,” agreed Sierra, sighing. “But after a while it becomes too much of a good thing.” Feeling way too warm, she climbed out of the water and sat on the ledge.

  She heard Chad’s sharp intake of breath and realized he’d noticed the skimpy bit of material she was wearing.

  “How many bikinis do you own?” he choked out. His face reddened. No doubt, he regretted blurting out the question.

  “Five or six, and a couple one-piece suits for water skiing,” she answered, meeting those beautiful blue eyes. Judging by his expression, things were starting to get steamy in the Jacuzzi and not from the hot water.

  Her own body had cooled with the light breeze resulting in a crop of goose bumps. She slipped back in and seated herself on the underwater bench before reaching for her wineglass. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted from his hiding place in a distant tree.