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Startled. Kat turned to look at him. “Because of me?”
He turned off the main highway, onto the road that led to his ranch. “I never expected you to stay in Harmony. When you did, I suddenly became Simon Legree, throwing a damsel in distress into the street.”
“Is that why you rehired me?” Kat hated how small her voice sounded. “Because of the town?”
“No.” He pulled up in front of the house and cut the engine. “We’ll tell Anna you’re here, then I’ll get you settled in your room.”
In her hurry to leave town, Kat hadn’t changed out of her uniform, and only now, as Logan opened the cab door for her, did she realize how short her skirt was. She pulled it down, but not before she saw Logan’s frown as his gaze moved over her legs. When he offered his hand, she quickly slid out of the truck.
“I didn’t have time to change,” she said weakly, tugging on the skirt.
He simply shrugged and moved around to get her luggage from the bed of the truck. Terrific, she thought with a silent groan. If it wasn’t enough she’d made a bad first impression by being younger than he’d expected, her second impression as a floozy wasn’t looking so good, either.
“Hey, Logan! You get lost?”
Kat turned as a man approached the truck. He was almost as tall as Logan and about the same age, with dark features and long black hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He moved beside the truck and stared at her curiously.
“This is my foreman, Tom Whitefeather,” Logan said as he pulled her luggage out of the truck. “Tom, this is Kat Delaney, Anna’s nanny for the summer.”
Tom seemed momentarily surprised, then smiled at her and touched the brim of his white cowboy hat. “How do, ma’am.”
Kat offered her hand to Tom. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whitefeather.”
Tom hesitated, then slowly covered her small hand with his large one. “Just Tom will do, Miss Delaney.”
She smiled. “And I’m Kat.”
“You think we might move this along anytime soon?” Logan drawled, his arms loaded with Kat’s luggage.
“You need some help with that, boss?”
“I think I can manage,” he said sarcastically, then turned and headed for the house. “But the truck needs unloading. I’ll meet you in the barn in a few minutes.”
Tom nodded to her, then hopped in the truck and drove off. Kat threw her hat on her head and hurried after Logan.
The scent of floor cleaner and furniture polish filled the house, along with the sound of a woman singing in Spanish. Logan disappeared through the doorway where Anna had first appeared, and Kat followed. Still holding her luggage, Logan nodded to the end door, which was ajar. The woman’s voice was coming from that room.
Nervous, but excited, Kat knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in, Se?or Logan,” Logan’s housekeeper called. “I make la se?orita Anna muy bonita.”
Kat opened the door and entered. Sophia, an older, heavy-boned woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair, stood with her back to the door, combing Anna’s hair into a ponytail. Anna sat in her wheelchair beside her pink-and-white canopy bed.
“Anna,” Logan said from behind Kat, “I’ve brought someone with me I thought you might like to say hello to.”
With an obvious lack of real interest, Anna turned. When her gaze fell on Kat, the child’s eyes lighted. She looked quickly at her father, her expression hopeful, but questioning.
“Miss Delaney is going to stay for the summer,” Logan said, his voice softening.
Anna looked at Kat again and smiled slowly. Kat smiled back. “Anna and I are friends, she can call me Kat. And you must be Sophia.” Kat looked at the housekeeper.
Sophia nodded, holding onto the ponytail she was assembling. “Welcome to la casa Kincaid.”
Kat nodded. “Thank you.”
“Anna—” Logan smiled at his daughter and Kat realized it was the first time she’d actually seen him do anything but frown “—I’m going to show Miss Delaney her room right now. She’ll be back as soon as she gets settled.”
Anna nodded, and the ponytail Sophia held fell apart. Anna looked contrite, but Sophia simply shook her head and started over.
Kat followed Logan to the opposite end of the hall. Her bedroom was large and sunny, the hardwood floor polished to a soft shine. Navajo print rugs lay beside, and at the foot of, the king-size bed. She nearly gasped as she looked out the French door slider and saw a private patio with a builtin spa.
Kat had been surrounded her entire life with swank and elegance, and while she’d lived in upscale New York apartments her entire life, none of the rooms had ever been this big, let alone the bedroom. She moved closer to the French doors and stared out onto the patio. And a spa!
She turned to Logan who was hanging her garment bag in the closet. “Good heavens,” she said a little breathlessly, “if this is the servant’s quarters, I can’t wait to see your bedroom.”
The second the words were out, Kat wanted them back. He glanced at her, and she could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched. She felt the rush of heat over her cheeks. “I mean, everything here’s just so big...just like they say...” Her voice trailed off.
“Mrs. Lacey, Anna’s regular nanny, has the guest room on the other side of the house. Rather than disturb her things, I put you in here.” The humor left his eyes. “This used to be my bedroom. I moved out after my wife was killed.”
“I’m sorry,” Kat said quietly. “It must be very painful for you and Anna.”
He moved to the French doors and opened them, then stood there and stared out onto the patio. “My wife left Anna and me long before she died. Anna barely remembers her, and as far as I go, I don’t much give a damn.”
His voice was cold and empty and when he turned, there was no expression on his face. “I put the spa in for Anna, it helps to exercise her legs. Feel free to use it anytime you like, also. I’ll show you how to run it later.”
He stood there for a moment, his gaze skimming over her. She’d been on display enough years to understand and accept that look. With any other man she would have casually accepted the male approval she saw in his eyes and shrugged it off.
But he wasn’t any other man, and she faltered under the heat of his stare. Her breathing felt shallow and her pulse quickened. The waitress uniform she wore suddenly felt not only too short, but too tight. Her skin felt too tight. And when he brought his dark gaze back to hers, her heart skipped a beat.
He shook his head and frowned. “You don’t look like a nanny.”
Anna had said the same thing to her, she realized. But there was no softness to Logan’s words and she realized he wasn’t giving her a compliment. “I’ll do a good job.”
He nodded, then moved toward the door. “I’ll get back in around six. I’d like dinner ready by six-thirty.”
“Mr. Kincaid?”
He stopped and turned to look at her. A smile touched one corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you just call me Logan? Everyone else here does.”
She couldn’t help but smile, too, as she remembered that was what she’d said to him in the cafe. He started to leave again when she stopped him again.
“Logan,” she said quietly, “you never answered my question earlier. Why did you change your mind and bring me back here?”
He held her gaze, then said, “Anna wasn’t happy.”
For a moment, she almost thought he was going to say something else. Instead he turned and walked out the door.
Kat let loose of the breath she’d been holding. He didn’t want her here. He’d certainly made that clear. With a heavy sigh, she opened her suitcase and started to unpack.
It didn’t matter, she told herself. She wasn’t here for Logan Kincaid, she was here for Anna, and to experience life from a different perspective, to try new things.
And speaking of new things...she glanced at her watch.
She had approximately four hours to learn how to cook.
Three
Logan came in at five that afternoon. He was dirty, tired and more than a little tense. He and three of his men had moved half of the herd to another pasture, and one stubborn steer had broken away, leading Logan on a merry chase through a steep gully and heavy brush. He’d used every epithet in his rather extensive cow cutter’s vocabulary twice before he finally escorted the wayward animal back to its bellowing companions, but the fun and games had cost his gelding a shoe and forced Logan to ride back early.
Closing the stall door behind him, he tossed his horse a fleck of hay, then made his way to the house.
It was hard to admit, but Logan knew he was the only one to blame for his troubles. It had been his lack of focus on his work, not a runaway steer that had caused his problems. His mind had been on a curvy green-eyed gal from New York, a woman with long sleek legs that were made for a man to wrap around his waist. When he’d caught sight of those legs earlier as he’d helped her out of the truck, it had taken every ounce of willpower not to openly stare. He’d wanted to take her back to town right then and there. He’d wanted to take her to bed.
But he’d done neither, of course. And he wouldn’t. He would endure a little masculine torture if it made Anna happy. The smile on his daughter’s face this afternoon when she’d seen Kat had made every uncomfortable moment worthwhile. He was determined to make it through the summer, even if it cost him a few sleepless nights and several cold showers.
He still couldn’t believe she’d stayed in Harmony. Obviously Kat Delaney was a determined woman. While he didn’t understand it, he couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. He hadn’t taken her seriously, and his reputation with the town was smarting from his mistake. Mistakes, he corrected himself. His first one had been bringing her here in the first place.
He caught the delicious scent of roast beef and heard laughter when he came in the service entrance off the kitchen. Normally, after a day’s work, he would clean up and take off his boots before he went to his room to shower. Today, he stopped, listening to the cheerful sounds coming from the kitchen. Quietly he went to the door and opened it a crack.
He saw Anna first, her face and arms covered with flour, sitting at the kitchen table in a regular chair instead of her wheelchair. Bottom lip between her teeth, she methodically worked a large ball of dough. Bowls and measuring cups surrounded her, as did shortening, salt and an assortment of other baking supplies. It looked as if a bag of flour had exploded.
“Knead about ten times—” Logan heard Kat say “—biscuit dough should feel light and soft, but not sticky...”
Logan turned his attention to Kat and his stomach went into a skid. Dressed in snug-fitting jeans and a white T-shirt, she stood at the kitchen sink, reading from a cookbook while she peeled potatoes. The strings of an apron lay in a neat bow on her flour-dusted backside. His throat felt as dry as the flour as he stared at her well-rounded derriere and long legs encased in tight denim.
“Seven...eight...” he heard his daughter slowly counting as she kneaded the dough.
They were cooking together, he realized in amazement. To the best of his knowledge, Anna had never done anything more in the kitchen than help Sophia set the table. And here she was with Kat—making biscuits?
A feeling he couldn’t identify tightened Logan’s chest as he watched Anna and Kat. There was a brightness in Anna’s eyes, a pinkness in her cheeks that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It had never dawned on him that helping in the kitchen might be something she would enjoy. Obviously it had never dawned on anyone else, either. He made a mental note to discuss it with Mrs. Lacey when she came back.
“Is this good?” Anna asked.
Still unobserved, Logan watched Kat set down the potato she’d been peeling, wipe her hands on her apron, then pick up the cookbook and walk over to Anna.
Kat poked at the dough. “You tell me. You’re the expert biscuit maker.”
“But I’ve never cooked anything before,” Anna said, her brow furrowed.
“Me, either.” Kat blew a long strand of hair from her forehead, then reached for a rolling pin on the table and handed it to Anna. “That’s how we learn new things. We just do it. Now roll.”
Kat had never cooked before? Confused, Logan watched as she read to Anna and the two of them discussed the recipe instructions. She didn’t know how to cook, he realized. But then, why did she agree to cook for him? Of course, now that he thought about it, he’d never given her a chance to say no. He’d assumed she knew how. After all, even people in New York had to eat.
But then, hadn’t he learned by now that any assumption regarding a woman was bound to get a man into trouble?
So she didn’t know how to cook. She was here to teach Anna, that was most important. As long as the woman focused on educating his daughter, he’d put up with indigestion for a few weeks.
And cold showers, he thought when Kat set the cookbook down and rubbed her fists against the small of her back. He had to force back a groan as her full breasts pressed tightly against her T-shirt.
It was going to be a long, painful summer.
With a sigh, he quietly backed away before Anna or Kat spotted him. As he closed the door behind him, he heard them singing, “Roll, roll, roll your dough...”
Kat held her breath as Logan took a bite of the roast she’d cooked. She knew it was silly, that it should matter so much. She’d been to dinners with politicians and celebrities and even royalty, but no dinner had ever made her so nervous, or been so important, as this one. Her first roast, she thought with excitement, watching him chew. And chew.
And chew.
Disappointed, she sank back in her chair. She’d been praying he liked his meat well-done, as in very well-done. Rather than torture the man, she should have just told him the truth about her culinary skills. She could see the headlines now: Katrina Delaney, World-Famous Violinist, Poisons Texas Rancher.
“Logan—” she sat straight and stared at her own plate “—I should have—”
“How ’bout another slice of meat?” He popped a bite of beef in his mouth, then scooped up some mashed potatoes and gravy that Kat knew had more lumps than a sugar bowl.
She waited for him to choke, then watched as he simply scooped up another big bite.
Stunned, she handed him the meat platter. He speared a piece of meat, then waved his fork at the bread basket. “And a couple more biscuits, too, please. It’s odd, Grandma Betty used to make biscuits as flaky as these, but she said only the women in my family had the knack.”
Anna, who had been sitting on the edge of her seat also, looked at Kat and smiled.
“Anna made them,” Kat said, grinning back at Anna.
Kat could have sworn she saw the devil dance in Logan’s eyes as he raised his eyebrows with surprise.
“No.” He picked up a biscuit and looked at it. “My Anna made biscuits?”
Eyes wide, Anna nodded.
Kat watched Logan with his daughter and she wondered if the man sitting across from her had a brother, an evil identical twin who had fired her two days ago, then irritably rehired and brought her back here today.
He winked at Anna and Kat felt her own insides do a flip. Though she hardly knew him, Kat suspected that this side of Logan Kincaid—the teasing, smiling charmer—was a side that few saw, a side that emerged only for Anna. Kat knew that for Anna—only Anna—Logan had swallowed his pride and brought her back here. Anna wasn’t happy, Logan had told her. He’d made it plain that he didn’t feel she was right for the job and that he didn’t want her here.
And yet, sometimes, Kat thought there was something in Logan’s eyes, a look that she felt more than actually saw, a look that she understood more on an instinctual, rather than conscious level; a look of sheer masculine hunger that made every feminine receptor within her scream out a warning. She’d come to Texas for adventure and romance, but romance of a spiritual nature, not in a physical, sexual sense. And when it came to Logan, Kat had no doubt that’s all there would be, the physical. The man radiated sex, and while she couldn’t deny she was attracted, she also couldn’t deny he terrified her.
To Anna’s delight, Logan made a great show of eating three more biscuits, then after dinner insisted on clearing the table and doing the dishes while Kat helped Anna into the bathtub. After she’d bathed and dried off, Kat dusted Anna with scented powder she’d brought from New York. Anna was still smiling when Kat helped her into bed.
“Do you really know how to play the violin?” Anna asked when Kat tucked the pink comforter around her.
Kat smiled. “Yes.”
“Miss Carver, my nanny when I was six, before Mrs. Lacey came, she played the violin, too, but she was so bad that Daddy wouldn’t let her play when he was home. The screeching gave him a headache.”
One more reason for Logan to resent her being here, Kat thought with a silent sigh. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be very careful not to screech when your daddy’s around.”
“Miss Carver taught me to play a little, too,” Anna said shyly. “And Miss Goodhouse, the music teacher at Harmony Elementary said I was very good.”
Harmony Elementary? Kat had assumed that Anna had always had home tutoring. “When did you go to school in Harmony?” Kat asked.
“She went for one semester in the third grade.”