Читать книгу Cowboy Seeks Perfect Wife - Linda Lewis - Страница 9

Sidonie was awakened by a cold nose and a whine. She got up and let the dog out the front door, then looked for her reluctant host. Rafe McMasters was nowhere to be found but he’d left an envelope addressed to her on the kitchen table. It contained a check for a thousand dollars and a brief note. “Happy house hunting.” He’d signed it “McMasters.”

Sidonie tore up the note, but she folded the check and put it in her handbag. Lease money went to Judge Longstreet for deposit into her trust account. After she fed the dog a can of chili she found in the pantry, Sidonie returned to her bedroom.

Her single suitcase rule didn’t allow for many clothes, so her wardrobe consisted mostly of rehearsal outfits—leotards, tights, shorts and slacks. She unpacked, hanging her colorful clothes—she favored primary colors over pastels—in her old closet. While stashing her underwear in the dresser, she found several pairs of faded jeans folded in the bottom drawer, along with a couple of Western shirts. Neither her old clothes nor her current wardrobe coordinated with the black plastic brace.

The brace was standing in the corner of her bedroom. She left it there. She had to go to town, and she couldn’t wear the hateful thing when she drove. She topped a chrome yellow leotard and matching tights with a turquoise wraparound skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. As soon as she’d dressed, she returned to the kitchen.

“Come on, pup.” The small dog licked the last of the chili from its mouth and followed Sidonie to the pickup.

Once they were on their way, Sidonie looked at the dog. “The fuddy-duddy was right about one thing. You need a name.” Scratching the dog behind the ear, she thought for a moment. “Gypsy. You’re a gypsy, like me. That’s what I’ll call you.”

She dropped Gypsy off at the vet’s, then headed for the Proffit County Courthouse and Judge Tyler Longstreet’s courtroom.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Judge Longstreet enveloped Sidonie in a bear hug and led her into his chambers. “When you walked in, all bright and shiny like a new penny, I couldn’t believe it. You’re really here.” He hugged her again, then held her away from him. “How’s the knee?”

“Getting better.”

“When did you get in? Did you get my message?”

“Late last night. What message?”

“I called the hotel to tell you not to go home. You have a tenant, remember? Where did you stay last night? With Maggie and the doc?”

“No. I haven’t seen Maggie yet. Tenant. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Judge.” She paused for dramatic effect. “There’s a man in my house.”

“I know that. Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about? Your tenant, Rafe McMasters. He leased the place a few months back.”

“I only lease the land.”

“You didn’t read the last lease before you signed it, did you?” He shook his head. “Sidonie, girl, how many times have I told you—”

“Always read before you sign. I know. But the leases have always been the same, up until this one. Why did you lease the house?”

“Didn’t you see the rent he’s paying? Your trust account is pretty healthy, even after taking out that chunk for your medical bills, but you can’t touch the principal until you’re thirty. Not for everyday living expenses, only for emergencies. You won’t be thirty for two more years. You’re going to need that extra .money for food and rent and other necessities, while you figure out a new way to earn a living.”

“I’ll earn a living the same way I always have— dancing.”

The judge frowned. “Not according to what the doctors told me. They said—”

“Never mind what they said. I know more about what my body can do than any doctor. I’m going to be fine. All I need is a place to relax and time to get back in shape.”

Tyler looked like he wanted to argue with her, but instead he asked, “Where did you stay last night? You never said.”

“I stayed at home, but I had to fight that man tooth and nail to do it. He’s the most—”

The judge’s mouth dropped open. “You stayed the night with Rafe McMasters? You got into a fight with him?”

“I never laid a hand on him.” A knee but not a hand. Judge Longstreet didn’t need to know about that. “What’s wrong? You look shocked.”

“I’m not shocked. Surprised, maybe. You…and Rafe McMasters. Oh, my.”

He still looked shocked to Sidonie. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Judge. Believe me, we didn’t make mad, passionate love on the kitchen table.”

“I didn’t think you did. I know you and Rafe wouldn’t…”

He looked embarrassed. Sidonie grinned. The judge had always been more naive than a man his age, in his profession, should be. “You’re right about that. We definitely wouldn’t. He’s not my type.” She wasn’t sure what her type was, but arrogant, self-righteous fuddy-duddies didn’t even make it to the bottom of her list. Not even if they had bodies to die for.

Judge Longstreet’s bushy white eyebrows came together in a puzzled frown. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Harrumph. I’d have thought a wealthy, handsome man was almost any woman’s type.” His brow smoothed. “But you’re smarter than most women, aren’t you? What have you learned about McMasters?”

“That he’s living in my house and he looks down his nose at dancers. What else should I know about him?”

The judge shot her a disappointed look. “That’s all?”

Rafe had put every nerve ending she had on red alert every time he’d touched her, but she wasn’t going to tell that to Judge Longstreet. She shook her head.

“Nothing else? Too bad. Rafe McMasters’s homecoming has been the main topic of conversation around here for weeks. Of course, now that you’ve shown up, there will be something new to talk about. But the two of you together—oh, my. Him, the prodigal son come home, and you, looking just like your mother. All big, blue eyes and long, long legs…” Tyler’s eyes glazed over momentarily, then he caught himself. “Harrumph. That is to say, you two will be a major topic of conversation around these parts.”

“That’s what he said. But why?”

“He left town under something of a cloud fifteen years ago. No one’s heard from him since. Then he turns up out of the blue three months ago, holding title to half the county. Turns out he’d been buying up land here in Proffit County for years, through a nominee. But we still don’t know where he was all those years, or what he’s been up to.”

“Okay, I can see how people might find that a little bit interesting, but why would they talk about me?”

“You know how the town’s always been fascinated by your mother and you. You two are the only show business folks ever to come from Cache.”

“We’re not exactly famous, either one of us. Mom never made it out of the chorus line until she gave up dancing and became a choreographer. Neither have I.”

“You’re the closest thing to famous around these parts. Especially after that video you were in with that rock star—what’s his name?”

“Duke Devlin. I do well enough for my purposes, but I’m a long way from being a star.” Sidonie shrugged. “But if people find me and the stuffed shirt fascinating, they can talk about us all they want.”

“Stuffed shirt? That’s how you see him?”

She nodded warily. “Don’t you?”

“Not hardly. Rafe McMasters was the roughest, toughest cowboy in Proffit County when he was a young man. Doing real well on the rodeo circuit, he was. But he was always in trouble, right up to and including the day he left town. Now he’s back, throwing money around like it was water. How did he make his fortune? Answer me that, if you can.”

Ignoring the question, which was obviously rhetorical, Sidonie concentrated on the image the judge’s words conjured up—Rafe McMasters in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a Western shirt straining to cover his muscled chest…Sidonie blinked and the image was gone.

“Cowboy? Rough and tough? You can’t mean Mr. Prude and Prejudice. Judge, the man wears a three-piece suit to bed. Did you say he left town under a cloud? What on earth did he do?”

“Never you mind. You get out of here and find a place to stay. I’d let you stay with me, but a pretty young thing like you living with an old bachelor like me would cause tongues to wag, too. Why don’t you go see the widow Harris? She runs a real respectable boardinghouse.”

“I’m beginning to remember why Mom left here. She always told me people in Cache were much too concerned with everyone else’s business.” Sidonie walked around the desk and placed a kiss on the judge’s receding hairline. “I’m staying at my place.”

“You can’t stay there. Not as long as Rafe is in residence.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. How do we get him out of my house?”

“He’ll be out in three months. That’s when the lease is up.”

“Can’t we break it, somehow?”

“I drew it up. You signed it. It’s unbreakable.”

Sidonie left the judge’s chambers dismayed, but far from discouraged. She’d find a way to stay on her land, in her house, and she knew just who to go to for help. She drove to the home of her best friend in Cache, Maggie Malone Parker.

“Sidonie!” Maggie hugged her so hard she thought her ribs might snap. “When did you get here? I thought you weren’t coming for another week or two. Your medical files haven’t even gotten here yet.”

“I broke out of the rehab center. I couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted to come home.” Sidonie swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged Maggie back.

Holding her friend at arm’s length, she gave her a searching look. Maggie Parker was a petite…blonde. This week. She had a habit of changing her hair color every few months. Maggie claimed it was the only adventurous thing she ever did, but Sidonie knew better. They’d always been equally talented when it came to cooking up schemes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a brace? And should you be driving? Where did you get that cute little truck?”

Laughing, Sidonie let Maggie lead her into the cozy cottage. “Yes, probably not and Dallas. I went straight from the airport to the dealership.”

“You bought it? Does that mean you’re home for good?”

“No. No.” Sidonie frowned. Trust Maggie to figure out right away that it didn’t make sense for her to buy a pickup. Once she had a job and was back on the road again, she’d have to sell it. “I know I should have rented a car, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here. And I thought I’d stay in Texas for a while— there are lots of opportunities for dancers, at least in the summer. The State Fair musicals, Casa Mañana in Fort Worth…” She trailed off. She’d always been able to read Maggie like a book. Now she was reading disbelief. “I am going to dance again, Maggie,” Sidonie said softly.

Another fierce hug. “Of course you are, sweetie. When did you get in? Just now?”

“No, late last night.”

Confusion showed on Maggie’s face. “Last night? Where did you stay? Not at that tacky motel at the edge of town.”

She shook her head. “At home, of course.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “You spent the night with Rafe McMasters?”

“Good grief! Does the whole town know he’s living in my house?”

Nodding her head vigorously, Maggie pushed Sidonie in the direction of the kitchen. “Yes, indeed. Everyone knows Rafe is staying at the Saddler home place. You spent the night with him?”

“You make it sound like we slept together. We weren’t even in the same room, Maggie. Only under the same roof.”

Maggie had the grace to blush. “Well, of course you didn’t sleep with him. You just met. But you’ve got to tell me everything. Where’s he been all these years? Why did he come back, do you know?” Maggie was practically drooling.

“I have no idea. We spent our time together exchanging insults, not life stories,” Sidonie said dryly. “First Judge Longstreet and now you. What is so intriguing about Rafe McMasters and his homecoming?”

Maggie sighed. “I’ve heard stories about him ever since I was” knee-high to a grasshopper. The man’s a legend. But no one’s seen or heard from him for fifteen years—not since he jilted Cathy Sue and ran off with that exotic dancer.”

Sidonie’s jaw dropped. “A stripper? He ran off with a stripper?”

“Practically left poor Cathy Sue waiting at the altar. Although I shouldn’t call her poor. Her daddy’s the richest man in Proffit County. Or he was, until Rafe came back. Folks are saying he’s got more money than Emmet Clancy ever thought about.”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”

“No, that’s right, you wouldn’t. Cathy and Rafe were in high school together—eight or nine years ahead of us. It started out as a real romantic love story—Cathy Sue, the daughter of the biggest rancher in the county, and Rafe, the son of one of his cowhands. Rafe wasn’t a hand, though. He was on his way to being a championship rodeo cowboy. That’s when Cathy Sue and he got together.”

Maggie sighed dreamily. “For a while, it looked like they would live happily ever after. Mr. Clancy eventually came around and gave his blessing to the engagement. A big church wedding was in the works—I know because one of my cousins was going to be a bridesmaid. And then, boom, it was all over. Rafe left town and never came back.”

“With a stripper?”

“Well, that part of the story’s a little fuzzy. Some of the men in town saw Rafe a few months later in a honky-tonk in Fort Worth. He was with a woman a few of them claimed they’d seen a whole lot of— although, when push came to shove, none of them would actually admit they’d been to a burlesque show.”

“I don’t think it’s true. I can’t see him running off with a dancer.”

“Why not?”

“The way he looked at me after I told him I dance for a living—like I just crawled out from under a rock.”

“Get out of here! I never saw a man look at you with anything but lusty admiration.”

“Well, Rafe McMasters does not admire me, and the feeling is mutual. I still don’t see why Rafe’s a legend if all he did was break up with his girlfriend. Did Cathy Sue go into a decline and die of a broken heart?”

“Not hardly. Getting jilted by Rafe was the only bad thing that ever happened to Cathy Sue, and she recovered from that blow pretty fast. She married her dad’s foreman—J. D. Nicholls—a few months later.”

“Well then, how did he get his reputation?”

“Rafe McMasters is a mystery. If he was fooling around with the exotic dancer, where did he meet her? He’d been in Cache for months, recovering from an injury. If he wasn’t cheating on Cathy Sue, why did he leave her? She never would say. Our sweet Cathy Sue’s too much of a lady to air her dirty linen in public.”

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? Don’t you like Cathy Sue?”

“Not much. She’s always been there for me and every other female in Proffit County to compare ourselves to—the ideal Texas lady, a cross between a Southern belle and a pioneer woman. Trust me, we all suffer by comparison.”

Chuckling, Sidonie asked, “And just what makes her so special?”

“Everyone thinks Cathy Sue is the ideal homemaker, the perfect wife and mother—with the possible exception of J.D. and Darcy, her husband and daughter. They are the ones who actually have to live up to her impossibly high standards. I swear, living in the same town with her is like living next door to Martha Stewart.”

“Now, that is interesting. Why would Rafe dump someone like her? Based on our brief time together, I’d say a female paragon is exactly his type.” Why that should give Sidonie a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t begin to fathom. She sniffed dismissively. “Too bad she’s married. If she were still available, they could reconcile. Then he could move in with her and leave my house to me.”

“Some folks do think Cathy Sue is the reason he’s come back. Including Cathy Sue, for one. Oh, she doesn’t say so, just gets a wistful, faraway look in her eyes whenever his name is mentioned. J.D.’s not too happy, either. Probably afraid he’s not up to the competition if Rafe really does make a play for his wife. After all, Rafe has his own ranch now, the biggest in the county from what I hear. J.D.’s still only the foreman at the Clancy spread. I have a feeling that if he wanted to, Rafe could get Cathy Sue with one crook of his little finger.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Somehow she’d gotten the definite impression that, no matter how stuffy he was, Rafe McMasters was an honorable man. Not the kind to chase atter a married woman.

“You’re probably right. I doubt Rafe has suddenly decided he made a mistake all those years ago. He’ll find someone else to marry.”

“What makes you think he’s going to marry anyone?”

“That huge house he’s building. It’s much too big for one man. He must be planning on starting a family. Wouldn’t it be great if he found a woman even more perfect than Cathy Sue? It would be refreshing to see the blue ribbons at the Proffit County Fair on something she didn’t make.”

“Cathy Sue beats out your peach cobbler?”

Maggie nodded. “Every damn year.”

Sidonie patted Maggie on the shoulder. “All right. Here’s the plan. We’ll shoot her. Where does this Cathy Sue person live?”

Maggie giggled. “That’s going too far, even for us. And I have to admit, the talk about him and Cathy Sue is pure speculation. And that’s only one story. Some folks think he’s back to get even with J.D., the theory being that if J.D. hadn’t snapped Cathy Sue up so fast, she would have waited for Rafe. Other people think Rafe wants to ruin Emmet.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“All kinds of reasons, most of which are kind of vague. He’s a real mystery.”

“Well, someone else can solve him. I’ve got other things to do. Like hug my goddaughter. Where is she?”

“Elizabeth’s at school of course. She’s so excited about you coming home. She’s discovered ballet on the learning channel and she wants dance lessons.”

Sidonie frowned. Dance lessons? Maggie knew Sidonie’s feelings about teaching—that was what dancers did after they retired. Was Maggie pushing her toward a new career, too? “The closest dance studio is in Dallas, isn’t it?”

Maggie didn’t pursue the subject. “Where are you going to live until Rafe moves out? I’d offer to let you stay here, but we only have the two bedrooms, now that Rayburn’s turned one into a study.”

“I have a place to stay. Unfortunately I’ll have to share it with McMasters. It turns out he really does have a lease on the house, and Judge Longstreet says I can’t get out of it.”

Maggie shot her a dubious look. “Do you think he’ll go for a roommate?”

“Not willingly. That’s why I came to you. We have to figure out a way to make him go for it. You always were good at getting people to do what you wanted.”

Maggie grinned. “Don’t let Rayburn hear you say that—I’ve got him convinced he’s the boss.”

Crossing her heart, Sidonie grinned back. “My lips are sealed.”

Maggie’s brows drew together in fierce concentration. “There was something…I know! I saw it in the paper just this morning. He’s advertised for a live-in cook/housekeeper. But I’m pretty sure he means for the house he’s building. It won’t be finished for another month or so.” She rummaged around in a stack of magazines and pulled out the latest copy of the Cache Register, the town’s weekly newspaper.

Sidonie snatched it out of her hands. “Let me see that.” Turning to the classified ads at the back of the paper, she quickly ran her eye down the columns. “Aha! You’re right, Maggie. Here it is.” She scanned the ad. “This is perfect. I won’t even try to talk him into letting me stay. I’ll just apply for the job. I’d have to clean and cook for myself, anyway.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched, Sidonie. Every woman in town under eighty is going to apply for that job.”

“But I’ve got the inside track. My suitcase is already unpacked. And the ad does say to start in two months. I’ll just have to convince him he needs a housekeeper now.”

“Well, maybe that will work. I guess you can clean all right. But you can’t cook.”

“Yes, I can. Well, a few things. I’ll learn others, if I need to.”

“Are you sure it’ll be safe? Living with a man like that?” Maggie shivered, just like she’d done when they’d told ghost stories at slumber parties.

Sidonie suppressed an answering shiver. Rafe McMasters should not induce shivers in anyone, except maybe a clone of Cathy What’s-her-name. He certainly was not her type. Oh, if what the judge and Maggie said were true, he might have been at one time—she was as much a sucker for bad boys as any red-blooded American female. But a rancher in banker’s clothing? No way.

“A man like what? He might have been a troublemaker when he was younger, but he’s changed. Now he’s an upright, uptight solid citizen. And you know there is nothing stuffier than a reformed rogue.”

“Rafe McMasters?” Maggie’s face fell. “Say it isn’t so.”

“Can’t. The man’s a dull, stodgy businessman. And, as far as I could tell on our short acquaintance, he’s happy about it, to boot.”

After leaving her friend’s house, Sidonie swung by the vet’s to pick up Gypsy. Bathed and groomed, she still looked like a mutt. “Never mind. I love you, anyway.”

The telephone was ringing off the wall when she and Gypsy got home, and no one was there to answer it. Rafe must be giving her plenty of time to clear out. Sidonie hesitated only a second before picking up the receiver. It might be some poor woman looking for a job, one that had already been filled.

Rafe McMasters might not know it yet, but he had a housekeeper. Her.

“Hello. McMasters residence.”

“Hello. Who’s this? Don’t tell me—I might have known he wouldn’t waste any time. Boy thinks he’s wasted too much time already.”

“Who is this?”

“Fielding. Cornelius Fielding. I thought he might have gotten tired of country life by now, be ready to come back to the Windy City. Plenty of women here, I told him. Plenty of other business opportunities, too, if he became bored with commodity trading. But he’s had his mind made up, and nothing I offered could change it. Three things he wanted and now I guess he’s got them all.”

“Cornelius Fielding?” The man was talking a mile a minute, but his name had registered. “The billionaire?”

“Please. Multibillionaire. The richest man in the United States—except for that computer genius, darn him. Fat lot of good it does me, if I can’t keep a good man on the payroll. What’s your name, young lady? He must have swept you right off your feet. Fast worker, that Rafe McMasters. Always has been. Saved my life, you know. That’s how we met. Been working for me ever since, until he finally got enough money to execute his plan. Rafe’s big on planning things out, you know. First part was easy—knew he’d get that part. Land and a house. All that takes is money, and I did teach him a thing or two about making money. But I thought finding a woman, the right woman, would have been harder. It should have been. Especially one with all those essentials.”

“Essentials?” The man was talking so fast, Sidonie could barely keep up.

“Qualifications he said he wanted for his wife. Told him he shouldn’t set his standards too high. Not too low, either. But perfection’s hard to come by. No offense, but I thought maybe he’d never find you. What did you say your name was? See it on the wedding invitation, I know, but I like to know what to call the people I care about.”

“Sidonie. Sidonie Saddler. And I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Rafe works for you?”

“Worked. For almost fifteen years. Told me from the first he’d be moving on when he was ready to go after his dream. Not in those words, you understand. Rafe says he doesn’t dream, he plans. Whatever he calls it, it looks like he’s done it—gotten the whole kit and caboodle. The land, the house and the woman. You be good to him. Rafe McMasters deserves the best.”

“Mr. Fielding, you’ve—”

“Corny, call me Corny. I’m going to be godfather to your children. Didn’t he tell you that? You don’t object, do you? Good thing to have a muitibillionaire as a godfather.”

“No kidding. But, Corny—”

“Sid—what did you say your name was again? Sidney?”

“Sidney with an o in the middle. Sid-oh-nee.”

“Well, Sidonie, I like you. “Fraid I wouldn’t, you know. Rafe’s idea of an ideal woman wasn’t mine. So, when’s the wedding?”

“I have no idea. I’m not his fiancée, I’m his housekeeper.”

“Housekeeper?”

“Well, he doesn’t know it yet, but I’m applying for the job. He’s living in my house, and he advertised for a housekeeper. I want to stay here, and I don’t mind cooking and cleaning, so it should work out Don’t you think?”

“My, my. This sounds interesting. How did he end up in your house?”

“He rented it. Behind my back.”

“Not like Rafe to be underhanded—”

“Oh, he wasn’t. My financial guardian rented the house to him while I was in New York, not knowing that I would need it. I’ve decided not to evict Mr. McMasters, as long as he lets me stay here with him.” She paused. “You know him better than I do. What do you think? Will he go for it?”

“You don’t sound like any housekeeper I ever met. How much experience do you have?”

“None. But how hard can it be to keep a house clean? I’m not afraid of work.”

“Can you cook?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you do, Sidonie? Interesting name, that. Don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

“My mother wanted an unusual name for me—one that would look good on a marquee.”

“Ah. You’re an actress.”

“No. A dancer. But I hurt my knee and I need a place to stay while I get back in shape. I thought I had one, but then I got here—”

“A dancer? Who can’t cook.” Cornelius chuckled. “Tell me, young lady, what do you look like?”

“I’m tall, five feet eight inches, red hair, blue eyes. And Rafe doesn’t think I’m a lady. Why?”

“Lady or not, you sound like the right woman to me—just the person to teach that boy what really is essential in a marriage.”

“I don’t want to marry him. I want to live with him. I mean, I just want to live in my house. As his housekeeper. Do you think he’ll agree to that?”

“If Rafe doesn’t hire you, or marry you, you come to Chicago and look me up. I’ve been a widower for twenty years—thought I’d never find another wife as good as the first one, but you might change my mind. And, Sidonie, tell him I said to remember my motto— Never Pass Up An Opportunity.”

“I’m not sure he’ll think of me as an opportunity.”

“If he doesn’t, he’s a fool.”