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When at last she pulled up in front of the charming ranch house that had housed generations of Baxter men and their families, she noticed something odd. Apparently, Case’s cattle received more attention than did his aging home.
It would be an exaggeration to say the place looked run-down. That wasn’t it at all. But the two-story white ranch house with blue shutters seemed tired. Although the wraparound porch was large and appealing, no flowers were planted at its base. No colorful cushions bedecked the porch swing. No toddler bicycles or teen sports equipment lay scattered about the yard.
Although the B Hive Ranch had been in the family for decades, everyone in Royal knew that Case’s parents had both died young, and Case was an only child. It would be sad to see the place end up in other hands if Case had no heirs.
It was a possibility, though. Case was in his midthirties and apart from—or perhaps because of—his youthful marriage, which had ended badly, he showed no signs of settling down.
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Mellie reminded herself that this was not her first rodeo. Keep N Clean had just celebrated its eighth anniversary. Mellie herself was a seasoned businesswoman. There was no need to feel intimidated by the power and stature of Case Baxter.
She didn’t know him well. Really only in passing.
Hopefully, that was about to change.
Along with her stylish tote that served as purse and catchall, she picked up a navy-and-lime-green folder that she now handed out to all prospective clients. Though the expense of producing the upscale advertising materials had been wince-worthy, she hoped the professional presentation would take her expanding company to the next level.
For some reason, she’d expected someone other than the owner to answer her knock. But only seconds passed before the tall blue-eyed man with dark brown hair opened the door and swung it wide.
He greeted her with a polite smile. “I’m Case Baxter. I’m assuming you’re here for the interview?” He filled the doorway, lean and long and wildly handsome.
Mellie shook his hand, feeling his large, warm fingers momentarily squeeze hers. Wow. His photograph in the newspaper didn’t do him justice. His short hair was neatly cut, though an unshaven chin gave him a rakish air. His clasp was not a second too long. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But her heart beat faster.
He was the perfect specimen of a Texas male. He wore faded jeans that molded to his body in interesting ways...scuffed hand-tooled cowboy boots, a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an expensive watch that looked as if it could pick up cable channels on Mars.
She found her voice at last. “I’m Mellie Winslow. I own Keep N Clean.”
Case frowned slightly. He didn’t invite her in. “I thought I was interviewing a prospective housekeeper.”
“Well, you are,” she said, squirming inwardly. “The truth is, Mr. Baxter, I’ve been expanding my business. Things are going very well. But when you called asking for help, I decided I wanted to take this job myself.”
“Why?”
It was a valid question. She decided that honesty was the way to go. “May I come in so we can talk about it?”
“I supposed so.” He led her into the adjoining dining room, where a large formal table groaned beneath the weight of stacks of mail. In the few places not covered by papers, a layer of dust coated the wood.
“Have a seat,” he said. “As you can see, I didn’t exaggerate my need for assistance.”
Mellie sat down, and when he did the same, she slid a Keep N Clean folder across the table. “My rates and services are all listed here. The reason I’d like to do this job myself, Mr. Baxter, is because all of my current staff have taken on as much as they can handle. But I don’t want to turn you away. Having the newly elected president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club as a client would be invaluable advertising.”
“Always assuming you’re as good as you say...” He opened the folder and scanned testimonials she’d included from satisfied clients.
Mellie frowned. “I’m a hard worker. I’m meticulous. Also, I don’t need anyone to hold my hand every moment. Once you tell me what you require and give me detailed instructions about what I should and should not muck with in your home, I’ll be invisible.”
Case leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and stared at her.
She refused to fidget. If this silent showdown was part of his interview strategy, she would pass muster or die trying.
At last he shrugged. “Your rates seem fair. But how do you propose to run your business and at the same time keep my house in order?”
“How do you propose to run your business and still keep the TCC in order?”
Sarcasm was one of her failings. Having a smart mouth was not the way to win over prospective clients. Fortunately for her, Case Baxter laughed.
His eyes went from glacial blue to sunshiny skies when he was amused. “Touché.” He tapped the fingers of one hand on the table, the small restless gesture indicating some level of dissatisfaction or concern.
Mellie leaned forward, giving him her best reassuring smile. “Have you used another service that wasn’t up to par? We could talk about where they fell short.”
“No.” His jaw tensed for a moment as if some distasteful memory had unsettled him. “I don’t tolerate strangers in my home very well. I like my privacy.”
“That’s understandable. If you prefer, we can arrange for me to clean when you’re gone. Or maybe that’s the idea you don’t like. I could make sure to work while you’re here. Whatever it takes, Mr. Baxter. How about a month’s trial run? At the end of that time, if you’re unhappy with the quality of my work, or if having someone come in to clean bothers you too much, I’ll cancel the contract with no penalty.”
“I can see why your business is doing well. It’s hard to say no to you.”
Mellie saw a definite twinkle in his eyes. She flushed. “I’m ambitious. But I think a man like you understands that. You won’t regret having me here, Mr. Baxter, I promise. In fact, I swear you’ll wonder why you didn’t hire Keep N Clean a lot sooner.”
“Perhaps I should be absolutely clear. It’s more than cleaning. If you come to work for me, I’ll want you to take a shot at organizing my home life.”
His request wasn’t out of the ordinary. Structuring a client’s daily environment to maximize family time and personal efficiency was something Mellie enjoyed. But it was hard to imagine Case Baxter allowing anyone, much less Mellie, access to something so personal.
When she hesitated, his eyes narrowed. “Is that a problem?”
“No. Not at all. But you mentioned protecting your privacy, so I would want to be perfectly clear about boundaries.”
“Such as?”
She floundered mentally, oddly put off her game by a conversation that shouldn’t have seemed the slightest bit provocative and yet drew her thoughts to sex-tossed sheets and whether Case Baxter favored boxers or briefs.
“There are many levels of organization, Mr. Baxter. Everything from creating a well-aligned sock drawer to alphabetizing kitchen spices.”
He chuckled, ratcheting up his masculine appeal at least a hundredfold. “I’m sure we can settle somewhere between the two.”
“So that’s a yes?” She cocked her head, her stomach a swirl of anticipation and feminine interest. Mixing business with pleasure had never been an issue, but with this man, she might have to be on her guard. He had neither said nor done anything to acknowledge the fact that she was a woman and he was a man. But it was kind of a hard thing to miss.
He nodded. “I think it’s a workable compromise. We’ll see how we get along together. And in the meantime, if you find that one of your other staff members is free to take over here, I’ll certainly understand.”
“Does that mean you don’t want me?”
Sweet holy Hannah. Where had that come from?
Two (#ulink_4477c9da-6cfc-5024-82b3-83bcc1ee2f65)
His body tightened, on high alert. Though he was almost certain Mellie Winslow hadn’t intended anything suggestive by her question, there was enough of a spark in the air to make him react with a man’s natural response to a beautiful available woman.
Case hadn’t expected the punch of sexual interest. Truth be told, it reinforced his reservations about hiring any housekeeper, much less one who looked like Mellie. He was a sucker for redheads, especially the kind with skin the color of cream and wide emerald eyes reflecting a certain wariness...as if she had been disappointed one too many times in life.
Though she was clearly accustomed to hard physical labor, she was thin but not skinny. The shade of her red curls, spilling from a ponytail that fell past her shoulders, was a combination of fire and sunshine.
He should tell her to go. Right now.
“Are you saying I make you nervous, Ms. Winslow?”
She wrinkled her nose, as if smelling a refrigerator full of rotten eggs. “A little. I suppose. But I’ll get over it.”
That last sentence was served with a side of feminine defiance designed to put him in his place. She reminded him of a fluffy chicken warning the rooster away from the henhouse.
“Duly noted.” He tapped a stack of envelopes. “The trial period works both ways. You may find me such a slob that you’ll run screaming for the hills.”
Mellie’s smile was open and natural. “I doubt that. I’ve reformed worse offenders than you, believe me.”
At that precise moment, he knew he wasn’t imagining the sizzle of physical awareness between them. Maybe Mellie didn’t notice, but he did. At thirty-six, he surely had more experience than this young woman, who was on the dewy-skinned right side of thirty.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He glanced at his watch, ruefully aware that he had to put an end to this provocative interview. “I’m afraid I have another appointment in town. So we’ll have to wrap this up. Why don’t you plan to start Thursday morning? I’ll put some thoughts on paper in regard to what I want you to tackle and we can go from there. Does that work for you?”
Mellie stood, smiling. “Absolutely. Thank you, Mr. Baxter. I’ll see you soon.”
“Call me Case,” he said.
“And I’m Mellie.”
* * *
Case stood at the window, his hand on the lace curtain as he watched his new housekeeper drive away. He knew the time had come to put his house in order—literally—but he had a sinking feeling that he might be making a bad mistake.
The fact that he found Mellie Winslow so appealing should have put an end to things. He’d fallen for an employee once before and ended up with a broken marriage and a bank account that had taken a severe hit. His track record with long-term relationships was virtually nonexistent.
He’d never had sisters. With his mother gone, the only female relatives he had were two cousins in California whom he saw maybe once a decade. He wasn’t a good judge of what made women tick. He enjoyed their company in bed. He was even willing to concede that women and men could be friends under certain circumstances.
But as one of the wealthiest ranchers in Maverick County, he’d learned the hard way that a man was not always judged on his own merits. He might marry again one day...maybe. But only if he was damn sure that his prospective bride cared more about his character than his financial bottom line.
As he drove into town, he noted, almost unconsciously, the signs that Royal was flourishing after last fall’s F4 tornado. He took in the new storefronts, fresh landscaping and a few empty lots where damaged buildings had been razed in preparation for upcoming construction.
The town had rebounded well, despite tragedy and hardship. Case knew there were still problems to be addressed. Insurance woes remained an issue. Slow payments. Court battles over settlements. The Texas Cattleman’s Club had a history of benevolence and community service. Case was determined to use his new position to keep the organization headed in the right direction, particularly in regard to the ongoing tornado cleanup.
For Royal to rebound from tragedy and prosper in the twenty-first century, it would be important to keep all sectors of the local economy alive. Which meant looking out for small businesses. Like the Keep N Clean.
When he pulled up on the side street adjoining the Royal Diner, he saw that the sheriff’s squad car was already there. He found Nathan Battle inside, sipping a cup of coffee and flirting with his wife, Amanda, who owned and operated the diner.
Case took off his cowboy hat and tucked it under his left arm. “Sheriff. Amanda. Good to see you both.” He shook Nathan’s hand and slid into the booth opposite the tall uniformed man he’d come to meet.
Amanda smiled at him. “Congratulations on the election. I just heard the news.”
“Thanks.” Nathan and Amanda had been high school sweethearts. After a tough breakup as kids, they’d eventually reconnected, fallen in love all over again and married. Case envied the almost palpable intimacy between them. Two people who had known each other for so long didn’t have to worry about secrets or betrayals.
Amanda kissed her husband on the cheek. “You boys have fun. I’ve got to go track down a missing shipment of flour, so Helen will be your waitress today. I’ll catch you later.”
The server took their order for coffee and dessert, and Case sat back with a sigh. He worked long hours. His daddy had taught him the ranching business from the ground up and drilled into him the notion that in order to be the boss, a man required more than money in the bank. He needed the respect and loyalty of his employees.
Nathan drained his coffee cup and raised a hand for more.
Case shook his head. “Do you live on that stuff?” Nathan was tall and lean and beloved by most of the town. But he rarely had time for leisure.
The sheriff shrugged. “There are worse vices.” He smiled at Helen as she gave him a refill, and then he eyed Case with curiosity. “What’s up, Case? You sounded mysterious on the phone.”
Case leaned forward. “No mystery. I’m hoping you’ll be available to look over the club’s security procedures and disaster plans. Last year’s tornado taught us all we need to stay on top of emergency preparedness.”
“Not a bad idea. I’d be happy to...just email me some dates and times, and I’ll block it off on my calendar.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
They chatted for half an hour, and then almost as an afterthought, Case asked Nathan the question that had been on his mind. “What do you know about Keep N Clean?”
“Mellie Winslow’s business?”
“Yes.”
“They’re a solid outfit. Amanda has used them here at the diner, and I know a lot of people around town who sing their praises. Why?”
“My housekeeper retired eight months ago. Took her pension and headed to Florida. I need help around the house. Especially now that I’m taking on leadership at the club. But I’m out on the ranch a lot of the time, and I don’t like the idea of having strangers invade my personal space.”
“I’m sure Mellie vets her employees thoroughly. I’ve never heard a single complaint about anyone on her staff, and I would know if there had been a problem.”
“And Mellie herself? She says her staffing situation is stretched to the max, so she would be the one working for me.”
The other man obviously knew about Case’s short-lived marriage. It was no secret. But it was humiliating nevertheless. Back then, Case had been thinking with a part of his anatomy other than his brain. The resultant debacle had been a tough lesson for a twentysomething.
Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking as a boss or as a man?”
“What does that mean?” Case hadn’t expected to be grilled.
“Well, Melinda Winslow is not only a savvy businesswoman, she’s a gorgeous unattached redhead who’s smart and funny and would be a great companion for any guy.”
“Hell, Nathan.” Case took a swig of coffee and nearly choked to death when the hot liquid singed his throat. “Why do all of my married friends feel the need to play matchmaker?”
Nathan grinned. “How many times have you gotten laid in the last month?”
“Not all marriages are like yours,” Case muttered, refusing to be jealous of his buddy’s good fortune. “Amanda is a peach.”
“So is Mellie. Don’t let your prejudices get in the way. And to be clear, now I’m talking about business again. She can be trusted, Case...if that’s what you’re asking. You can relax on that score. She’s not going to steal the silver or run off with a Picasso.”
Case’s parents had been art collectors. The ranch house was filled with priceless paintings and sculptures. “Good to know. I liked her during the interview, but it never hurts to get a second opinion. Anything else you want to add to your glowing recommendation?”
Something flickered across Nathan’s face...something that gave Case a moment’s pause. “What?” Case asked, mildly alarmed.
“Nothing bad about Mellie. But be on your guard if her dad comes around. He’s a drunk and a scoundrel. As far as I can tell, fathering Mellie is the only good thing he ever did. I arrest the guy for public intoxication at least several times a year.”
“And Mellie supports him?”
