Читать книгу The Cowboy's Lady - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 8

Not hiring her?

He hadn’t even given her a decent chance.

“Cody. Hold on,” Ted called out.

Vivienne pressed her hands together, trying to keep the panic at bay.

Cody stopped and slowly turned around, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. Vivienne stifled the tiny frisson of fear at his belligerent look as she took a long breath.

“We need a cook,” Ted said.

“I need someone who can do beans, beef and biscuits. Not … that.” He waved a dismissive hand at the pears that, Vivienne thought, had turned out very well considering the number of ingredients she’d had to improvise on.

She wanted to be upset with Cody’s dismissive attitude, but she couldn’t.

Because after speaking with Ted, on a whim, she walked around town talking to the various businesses. No one was hiring. Not the flower shop. Not Hair Today, the only beauty salon in town. Not the post office or any of the schools. She had even, out of desperation, tried the feed supply store, but Gene Jones, the proprietor, wasn’t looking for help either.

The town of Clayton had been dying a slow death even when she lived there. Now, even with the reopening of the Lucky Lady Silver Mine, it was worse. This job was her only chance at making some money while she waited for the inheritance.

Which will only come through if Lucas shows up.

She smothered the errant thought. Lucas had been informed of what was at stake. He would show up.

Ted turned to her and set his hands on his hips. “This is real nice, but would you be willing to cook simpler food?”

Vivienne set the pear down, disappointment vying with practicality. “It’s not what I was trained to do.”

“But you can do that,” Ted insisted.

“I’m a professional chef …” As her words faded off, so did her anticipation at the thought of this job. Gourmet cooking was what she loved. What she was best at. “I suppose I could do what was required of me,” she continued.

Cody pulled on his chin with one hand as if this answer didn’t satisfy him either. “I’m still not sure—”

“She can go over the menus with us and make sure we think it’s okay,” Ted insisted.

Cody fiddled with his hat, his teeth working at one corner of his mouth. “I don’t think she’s the right person for the job.”

“We got no one else,” Ted insisted. “We kind of need her.”

That Ted had to argue Cody into hiring her raised Vivienne’s ire. Sure she wasn’t a beans-and-bacon cook, but she was, as she had pointed out to Ted, a professional cook. And the thought that someone didn’t want to hire her made her angry.

And, perversely, made her want the job even more.

“I’d like a chance,” she said quietly.

Vivienne watched Cody’s face, trying to get a read on where he was going. Then he looked at her, and as their gazes meshed Vivienne caught a glimpse of the young man who had asked her out all those years ago. Then his features tightened and any trace of that Cody Jameson disappeared, replaced by this hard-looking, uncompromising man.

“We need someone who isn’t afraid of hard work,” he said, his voice gruff as he addressed her. “We need someone who can live out on a ranch for weeks at a time and not think they’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Which, as far as Vivienne was concerned, was exactly where they were. But she sensed from the intensity in Cody’s voice that her comment wouldn’t be welcome.

“I need someone who can live out here when storms blow into town and cut us off from civilization for days at a time,” Cody continued. “Do you think you could do that?” His voice had taken on a puzzling, belligerent tone, but even as she held his stern gaze she tried not to wince at the thought of being stranded up here.

“I … think I could do it.” She lifted her chin and injected a note of steel in her voice. “I know I can.”

It was only a year, she reminded herself, even as her knocking heart belied her confident tone. Three hundred and sixty-five days out here was a small price to pay for a quarter of a million dollars. And maybe more, once she sold the land that was part of the inheritance.

After that, New York and her new restaurant.

Keep your eye on the prize, she reminded herself. This is only a necessary detour.

Cody’s gaze locked with hers, his hazel eyes probing, as if trying to find a weakness. She held him look for look, but as she did, her heart did a little unexpected flutter at his attention. She swallowed, willing the emotion away.

He’s good-looking. It’s a normal reaction, she reminded herself, forcing herself to keep holding his gaze.

He’s going to be your boss.

“No one else wants to live out here,” Ted said. “I think we should hire her.”

Vivienne caught the angry look Cody shot his uncle. Obviously, Mr. Jameson wasn’t happy with Ted.

“I’m okay with this,” Vivienne said, stilling the threatening note of panic. She’d just have to get creative. Maybe take out a loan to pay off her other debts. Sell some stuff. Live cheap.

“Look, Cody, you make the decision. You know where I stand. I’ll be out at the horse pen,” Ted said. He dropped his hat back on his head and spun on his heel.

After he left, Cody shoved one hand through his thick brown hair and blew out a sigh.

“We’re not looking for gourmet cooking or anything even close to that. I’m just looking for—”

“Someone who can do beans and biscuits.” Vivienne gave him a quick smile to counteract the faintly bitter note in her voice. “I get that.” She held her head high. She needed this job, but she wasn’t begging.

Cody dragged his hand over his chin, still holding her gaze as if testing her.

“It’s not just that,” he said, his voice grim. “Like I said, it’s a hard life out here. And if I think you can’t hack it, you’re down the road. I’m not risking anyone’s well-being again.”

She wondered what he meant by “again,” but before she could ask, he continued. “You got the job, okay?” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand at the food she had so carefully prepared. “Just don’t get carried away with that fancy stuff.”

Don’t get angry. Just smile and nod. You’ve got work for now.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to keep the prim tone out of her voice. “You won’t be sorry.”

Cody’s glance ticked over her hair, her dress and her high-heeled shoes that she had slipped on before he came. All in an effort to impress a boss who, it seemed, wasn’t impressed.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said grimly.

Then the door of the cookhouse burst open and the young girl Vivienne had seen Cody with in town launched herself into the room. Cody’s head snapped around and Vivienne saw a look of frustration and … was that fear? … flit across his face.

“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?