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But there was no way that Win Garrison could know about her secret dreams and she certainly hadn’t implied she was auditioning him for the role of husband in them.
“I’m here to apply for the position of housekeeper, not wife. Furthermore, I’m certainly not interested in marriage to a man who thinks monosyllabic replies pass for communication and rudeness is socially acceptable behavior. Don’t worry. If I were to take the job of your housekeeper, your unmarried status would remain perfectly safe.”
“Good.” He looked satisfied, her insults seeming to go right over his head. “Then we can finish the interview.”
She stood up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr Garrison.” That she was using his rudeness as an excuse to get away from a man she was far too attracted to was not a thought she wanted to contemplate at the moment. “Thank you for your time, but I think it’s best if I leave.”
There had to be another job she could get that would get her out of the Dry Gulch and maybe make her application to teach in the Sunshine Springs school district a little more appealing. Just because this was the first good prospect she’d seen in the two weeks since she started looking, didn’t mean it was the only possibility.
“Sit down, Carlene, and call me Win.”
“No, really. I need to go.” She turned to leave.
But his voice stopped her. “I said sit down.” His tone made the quietly spoken command more intense than shouting could have.
She turned back to face him.
He smiled and her stomach dipped and that was so not good. “If you can’t follow one simple direction, we’re going to have a pretty rough working relationship.”
Frowning, she remained standing. “I don’t think we can have a working relationship at all, Mr Garrison.”
“Why? Because I sometimes talk in monosyllable?”
“No. Because you are rude and I don’t work well with rude people.” It was the truth. She’d gotten chewed out more than once at the Dry Gulch for taking a bad-mannered customer to task for their behavior.
“If I apologize, will you finish the interview?”
She didn’t think he was the kind of man that apologized often. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On why you were discourteous to begin with.”
“What exactly did you consider the discourtesy, if you don’t mind me asking? My one-word replies or my warning?”
She felt herself blush because she’d been rude too. Insulting even and it hadn’t gone over his head. He’d simply opted not to make an issue of it.
She sighed. “The warning. Most women would not find your assumption that they are looking at you as a potential mate on such short acquaintance flattering.”
Even as she said the words, she felt silly. She was taking them far too personally. Really.
His cynical laugh didn’t make her feel any better. “Honey, I’m a rich man with a lifestyle a lot of people covet. A fair number of women would consider marriage a nice way to ensure they share it. I learned a long time ago to make my lack of interest in marriage clear from the beginning, no matter what relationship between me and the woman.” He certainly wasn’t talking in single syllables right now.
“You mean you warn all your dates and hands the same way?”
“Yes. I don’t have any women working the Bar G right now, but the female vet got her warning the first time she came out to check the horses.”
“It’s like a religion with you,” she said, a little awed by his vehemence.
He sat up, planting his booted feet securely under him. “You could see it that way. You sure talk fancy for a housekeeper.”
But not for a high school English teacher with a degree in French literature, she thought. “Is that a strike against me?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll discuss it?”
She acquiesced.
He smiled again and she decided that she preferred it when he frowned. His smile was entirely too sexy and the last thing she needed was to think of her employer, particularly this one, as sexy in any way. He wasn’t interested in marriage and she wasn’t interested in an affair.
That left sexy out of their equation.
“What kind of experience do you have?” he asked.
“Not a lot,” she admitted. “Not any paid, but I can cook and I’ve been keeping house for myself since I went away to college.”
Of course, keeping up with her dorm room and then small apartments was nothing on the scale of his three-story mansion, but she would cope.
“If you can cook as well as you talk, the hands are going to love you.” He gave her another once-over, this time, instead of chills, his gaze making her go hot in places an employer should not affect. “Then again, once they get a look at you, they’ll think they’ve gone to heaven even if your food tastes like cow pies.”
This she was used to. This she could handle. At least that was what she tried to convince herself. Men had been making comments about her figure for years. She had learned long ago that the best way to deal with the comments was to ignore them. “Ever eaten any?”
“Any what?”
“Cow pies?”
“No,” he said, with a hint of smile in his voice.
“Then I guess you won’t know if my cooking falls under that category, now, will you?”
The smile became a full-blown chuckle. “Guess not. You start tomorrow morning, Tex.”
“My name is Carlene.”
“But you talk like a Texan.”
“I’ll have to work harder on that. I’ll never live there again.” Too much pain she never wanted to revisit.
Relaxing against the brown leather couch in his living room, Win swirled the whiskey in his glass before taking a swallow. It had been several hours since Carlene Daniels had left. His new housekeeper. He grinned.
She had a body that would make most men uncomfortable in their jeans and talked like a prissy little schoolmarm. Remembering the curves her loose top had been unable to hide, he amended his thoughts. The lady wasn’t exactly little, at least not in some places. She wasn’t too big either. She was a perfect pocket Venus, with womanly curves that led to a naturally small waist. She was the stuff of most adolescent male dreams, maybe most adult ones as well.
She’d certainly been the subject of too many of his waking thoughts today. He still couldn’t figure out what gremlin had gotten into him and prompted him to offer her the job. She had no experience. He sure as hell hoped she could cook. His hands might like looking at a sexy woman like her, but that would grow old pretty darn quick if she didn’t feed them right. He sighed.
Maybe he should assign Shorty to help her until she got used to the routine. The diminutive man made lousy biscuits, but he knew the quantities and types of food horsemen ate.
She’d probably talk Shorty’s ears off. The woman had a mouth on her and it was plain as the day was long that she was used to being in charge. So long as she limited that bossy streak to the house, they wouldn’t have any problems. He didn’t want to have to worry about anything but running the Bar G and Garrison Stables. With mares ready to foal he didn’t have time to concern himself with stuff like meals and cleaning house.
He wondered where she’d gotten such a bossy streak. If she didn’t have any experience as a housekeeper and cook, what types of jobs had she held before? He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked her. He hadn’t even asked her to fill out an employment application. He had hired her based on sheer instinct and that wasn’t like him. He was a careful man.
He hated admitting it, but his hormones had played their part too. It was disconcerting to realize that he’d reached the age of thirty and he could still be swayed so strongly by the sight of a beautiful woman. He’d just gone too long without. He hadn’t had a date in months and hadn’t slept with a woman in even longer. He’d gotten tired of the games. Tired of empty sex. Both things seemed to come along with the territory for a man uninterested in marriage.
There were times the big house felt empty too, times he felt empty. His certainty that marriage was for idiots didn’t waver. He’d learned the lesson too well at his mother’s knee. Hadn’t she married five men and divorced four? The only reason she hadn’t divorced her last husband was because she’d died before she could get bored again with marital bliss.
There had been a time when Win had been willing to believe that there were women out there that weren’t like his mother. He’d been young and foolish. Barely out of high school and overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for his thirteen-year-old sister, he’d met a shy, sweet little gal who wanted to get married—Rachel. He had believed that Rachel could help with his sister, could make their household, devastated by the death of his mom and stepdad, a home again.
It hadn’t worked that way. Rachel had wanted him to sell the Bar G and move to the big city. She had dreams and no one was going to stand in her way, least of all her young husband and his needy little sister. He hadn’t wanted to risk marriage since then. He’d learned his lesson the hard way, but he had learned it.
Carlene sure had been offended when he laid it out flat for her. She’d bristled with feminine pride and it had been all he could do not to laugh. She was naïve if she thought most of the women who entered his life didn’t see him as a potential meal ticket complete with caviar and silver spoons.
She didn’t know it, but it hadn’t been rude for him to set things straight from the beginning. It had been fair and he was a fair man. She had a right to know where he was coming from. He wanted her and he meant to have her, but he wasn’t interested in marriage.
He’d wanted her from the moment he opened his door, irritated by the second ringing of chimes set off by the impatient person waiting on the other side. The woman standing on the other side had been so far from what he’d expected that he’d felt sucker punched. And horny.
No doubt about it. He had been too long without the company of a woman, but he’d had the good sense to hire Carlene and soon that would be rectified.
CHAPTER TWO
CARLENE liked Shorty, the ranch hand Win had assigned to help her in the kitchen, the minute she met him. He had a grin that more than made up for his lack in stature. Soft gray eyes twinkled under a crown of silvered hair. “Well, missy, Win says you don’t got a hill of beans in experience, but I’m to help you learn the ropes. You know anything about cooking?”
She laughed. “I’d have to be pretty dumb to take a job as housekeeper and cook if I didn’t, now, wouldn’t I? Do I look dumb to you?”
Shorty sized her up as if he was seriously contemplating his answer to that question and Carlene’s respect for him went up a notch. The man kept his eyes focused mainly on her face.
“No, missy, you don’t look dumb at all. That must mean you can cook.” He sighed with relief. “It’s a good thing. Win and the hands ain’t real fond of my vittles.”
Then why had Win assigned the man to help her in the kitchen? Shorty answered that question for her with his next statement. “None of the hands, including our boss, can do any better. At least I know how to cook food without burning it, even if it isn’t real appetizin’.”
Carlene walked over to the sink and washed her hands. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Shorty. I can cook without burning the food and I’ve been told that my food is better than passable by more than one person.”
“Well, glory be, that’s a relief.”
Carlene hoped that the rest of the ranch hands would share Shorty’s enthusiasm when they filed into the large kitchen for lunch. She’d made French dip sandwiches, Caesar salad and cookies for dessert.
Win took a seat at one end of the table. Shorty sat to his left and a man they called Joe, who looked about the same age as Win, sat to Win’s right. He was introduced as the ranch foreman in charge of the horse and mustang training. Four other hands, ranging in age from just out of high school to another man who looked as wizened and gray as Shorty, sat down. Apparently, most of the hands worked for Joe, while Shorty and one of the youngest men, a brunette with cold gray eyes they introduced as Lonny, worked in the thoroughbred stables with Win.
Carlene placed filled plates in front of each man, beginning with Win. She didn’t realize that she’d been waiting for his approval until he looked up and nodded. “Looks good.”
She quietly said, “Thank you,” and continued passing out plates, feeling ridiculously pleased. After serving everyone, she turned back to the counter where she had lined up the ingredients for the pies she planned to make.
“Aren’t you going to eat with us, ma’am?” Joe asked.
She turned around, waiting to see if Win would second the hand’s invitation to join them. When he didn’t, she replied, “I’ll eat later. I’ve got work to do.”
“Aw shucks, ma’am, we’d be pleased for your company,” a redhead said.
Lonny gave Carlene a knowing look and patted the bench next to him. “You can sit right here, Carlene.”
Normally, she would have just laughed off an invitation like that from such a young man, but there was an intensity about Lonny that made Carlene nervous. The cold ruthlessness in his eyes reminded her of the student that had torn her life in Texas to shreds. She suppressed a shiver, reminding herself that there was no disgruntled principal here to help Lonny hurt her. There was just Win and she could not see him stooping to the lengths her ex-boss had even if she rejected him.
She managed to swallow a rude comeback to Lonny’s comment, not wanting to offend Win’s other employees her first day on the job. “No, thank you. As I said, I’ve got work to do.”
She shifted her gaze to Win, wondering what he thought of the exchange.
The look he was giving the younger man was cold and deadly. He turned slightly so that he was looking directly at her, his gaze warming several degrees. “Do what’s comfortable for your schedule, but don’t skip your lunch.”
She smiled at the order. “Yes, boss.”
He nodded. “If you’re hungry now, the men’ll move so you can sit by Shorty.”
It didn’t escape her notice, or that of his men, if Lonny’s narrowed eyes were an indication, that Win’s dictate would place her next to him as well. Carlene didn’t mind. Compared to Lonny, Win was a much safer bet. She had no doubt that sitting between him and Shorty she wouldn’t have to fend off any roaming hands under the table.
She considered Win’s offer. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but it would set a precedent for the future. If she ate with them now, human nature dictated that the hands would recognize that whenever she shared their table, her place would be between Win and Shorty.
Her stomach chose that moment to make a rumbling sound and the men laughed while she smiled, embarrassed. “I guess I’ll eat now.”
Several hours later after preparing a dinner that only required Shorty to heat things through before serving them, Carlene got ready to leave. Her feet didn’t hurt as much as after a night tending bar, but her back ached from a different kind of labor. She’d spent the day cooking, cleaning and trying to decipher the written instructions Rosa had left behind in a confusing mixture of Spanish and English.
She wondered what had caused the other woman to abandon her job so abruptly.
“You sure know your way around a ranch kitchen,” Shorty commented from behind as she pulled off her apron and hung it on the hook by the refrigerator.
She turned and smiled at him. “Thanks. I grew up in west Texas cow country.”
“Congratulations, Shorty. You got more information out of her in five minutes than I was able to do during her interview.”
Carlene’s head snapped up at the sound of Win’s amused voice from the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the doorjamb, a lazy smile on his face and looking handsome as sin. He was dressed much as he’d been for her interview, except today his T-shirt was black instead of dark blue and a cowboy hat hung loosely from his fingers next to his thigh.
She wished he’d stop smiling at her like that. It made her forget what she was going to do next. Forcing herself to focus on his words and not his mouth, she said, “You didn’t ask.”
He came into the kitchen sniffing at the casserole in the oven with an appreciative air. “Smells good.”
“Thank you.”
He lifted the linen towel covering the two marionberry pies she’d made for dinner. She’d used the native Oregon fruit, figuring the men would appreciate the plump, tangy blackberry-style filling. “You’re wrong, you know,” he said as he put the cover back over the pies.
“Wrong about what?” she asked, feeling breathless for no apparent reason.
“I did ask.” He turned to face her. “I distinctly remember asking if you had any experience.”
“You asked about experience as a housekeeper and cook. I don’t have any formal experience, but I do know how to cook and clean house. I told you that.”
She didn’t understand his enigmatic expression. He asked, “Why’d you leave Texas? Were you looking for adventure?”
She couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled forth. “If I’d been looking for adventure, I wouldn’t have ended up in Sunshine Springs.” Though the small town was a lot more than what she’d thought it was when she’d first arrived.
She’d had no idea at the time that it was a winter playground for the rich and famous.
He relaxed his tense posture and returned her smile. “No. You wouldn’t have.”
