Читать книгу Lies And Lullabies: Courting the Cowboy Boss - Джанис Мейнард, Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 12

Five

Case returned to the house at four thirty, anticipating another round of verbal sparring with the delightfully prickly Mellie. But her car was gone. Was she avoiding him? And didn’t she know that the male of the species enjoyed a chase?

He had dinner plans with Nathan Battle tonight. Amanda was out for the evening with her book club. So Case and the sheriff were looking forward to medium-rare steaks, a couple of games of pool and a sampling of sports on Nathan’s brand-new big-screen TV.

Nathan had offered to do the cooking. Case brought a case of imported beer and an apple pie he’d picked up at the bakery. The rain had ended several hours ago, so the two men sat outside in the gathering gloom and enjoyed the crisp air.

The scent of beef cooking made Case’s stomach growl. Which made him think of the last meal he’d eaten. The one a certain redhead with kind eyes and a stubborn chin had made for him.

Nathan kicked the leg of Case’s chair. “I’m the quiet one. You’re supposed to entertain me with tales of the rich and famous.”

Case slunk farther down in his chair. “I’m not famous.”

Nathan laughed out loud. “What’s eating you, Baxter? I’ve had livelier conversations at a morgue. Is the new job title weighing you down?”

“I’m not official for ten more days, so no.”

“Then what?”

Case drained his beer and popped the top on a second. “You’re imagining things.”

Nathan stood, flipped the steaks and sat back down with a sigh. “Then it must be the new housekeeper. Is she making you take off your shoes at the door? Or forbidding you to eat popcorn in the den?”

“Very funny. It’s my house. I can do whatever the hell I please. Mellie doesn’t run my life.”

“Mellie? Wow. First names already?”

“I wasn’t going to make her call me Mr. Baxter.”

“Fair enough.” The other man paused. “Here’s the thing, buddy. I have to pass along a warning.”

“A warning?”

“Yes. From Amanda. But to be honest, I agree with her.”

“Should I be worried?”

“It’s not a joke, Case. If you screw around with Mellie Winslow either literally or figuratively, Amanda will come after you. And my wife can be pretty scary when she’s on her high horse.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mellie hasn’t had an easy life. You’re way out of her league.”

“Now, wait a minute.” Case felt his temper rise.

“I’m not insulting Mellie. She’s great. But you’re older than she is, more experienced, and your financial position puts you at an advantage. I’m merely suggesting you not do something you’ll regret. I know you, Case. You’re not interested in a serious commitment. Admit it.”

Case dropped his head against the back of his chair, scowling at the crescent moon above. “You know what it’s like to have a failed relationship in your past.” Nathan and Amanda had spent years apart. They had been high school sweethearts, but malicious lies had destroyed that bond, and it had been a very long time before they’d reconnected.

“I do. It makes you second-guess yourself. Especially when the reason it happened was that you were young and stupid.”

“Are we talking about me or you?”

“Both of us.”

Fortunately, Nathan dropped the subject. The steaks were ready, and neither man was the type to spill his guts, even to a friend.

The rest of the evening was lighthearted and comfortable. Sports talk. Good food. But as Case drove back to the ranch later that night, disappointment filled his chest. Mostly because he knew the sheriff was right about Mellie.

She was not the type of woman to indulge in casual sex. And Case wasn’t interested in anything else.

* * *

Mellie sat at her desk and groaned as she hung up the phone. Two of her employees had called in because their kids had the flu. Which meant a major juggling act on the boss’s end. Several houses couldn’t be postponed for one reason or another. She called a few clients who weren’t tied to a certain schedule and changed their cleaning days, offering a credit toward next month’s bill for the kerfuffle.

In half an hour, she had reassigned her workforce and come to the inescapable realization that she was going to have to put Case off for a couple of days. It wasn’t a problem in the grand scheme of things. He didn’t have any big social events at his home coming up. He merely wanted her to deep-clean and organize his house.

Postponing the job for forty-eight or even seventy-two hours was not a crisis. But what made her squirm was the fact that Case Baxter would think she was running scared.

She was not completely inexperienced. There had been two serious relationships in her life, both of which she’d thought might turn out to be the real deal. But in the end, the first one had been puppy love, and the second a crush on a man fifteen years her senior.

When she’d finally realized that the older guy was more of a parental figure than a soul mate, she’d broken things off. That was four years ago. She’d been alone ever since. By choice.

She knew when a man wanted her. And she had the confidence to turn a guy down without apology. Her body was hers to give. She was old enough now to understand that true love was rare. Even so, she would not allow herself to be physically intimate with a man on a whim.

Case Baxter tempted her. Her own yearning was what scared her. She liked him and respected him. Even worse, no woman under eighty and in her right mind could be immune to his bold sex appeal.

He was at the height of his physical maturity. Tough, seasoned, completely capable of protecting a woman or giving her pleasure. He was wealthy, classy and intelligent.

Damn it. She was vulnerable around him, and the feeling, although stimulating, was not one she welcomed.

She didn’t believe in postponing unpleasant tasks. Pulling out her smartphone, she rapidly composed a text...

Case—I have a couple of employees out today, so I have to cover some shifts. I’ll be back at your place in a few days. Will give U a heads-up beforehand. Sorry for the inconvenience. Mellie Winslow

She added her name at the end because she wasn’t sure he had entered her contact info into his phone. Before she hit Send, she stared at the words. She was shooting for businesslike and professional.

Would he read her message in that vein, or was her genuine need to postpone the Baxter house going to be seen as a ploy to snag his attention? Oh, good grief. The man probably didn’t give a flip about whether or not his cleaning lady showed up. He probably flirted automatically.

She was making a mountain out of a molehill.

* * *

The next three days were long and physically taxing. Mellie worked hard, much as she had in the beginning. In her early twenties, by the sweat of her brow, she had turned Keep N Clean into a viable operation. Clearly, she needed to rethink her staffing situation, though. She couldn’t continue to work on a shoestring.

She needed enough flexibility to handle unexpected illness on the part of her employees as well as the occasional new customer like Case. The past two weeks were a wake-up call. If she really had dreams for expansion, she would have to take her game up a notch.

The one thing that needled her now was Case’s total lack of communication. Given his past behavior, she’d expected some kind of cheeky text from him in return. All she’d gotten was No problem, and that was it. Even this morning when she had messaged him to say she was returning to the B Hive Ranch, there had been no response.

Was he miffed with her for putting him off? Did he think a man in his position deserved to be kept at the top of the list? Maybe it wasn’t egalitarian, but the truth was, he did. The significant fee he was paying her, combined with the cachet of having him on her client list, made keeping Case happy a priority.

It was barely nine when she arrived at the ranch. She saw some activity out in the fields and down at the barn, but the house looked much as it always did. Case had probably been up at first light doing whatever he did when he wasn’t tormenting unsuspecting housekeepers.

Though she would have died before admitting it, her heart beat faster than normal as she ascended the front steps. Another weather front had moved in. The morning air was damp and cold, reminding her that Thanksgiving was not far off on the horizon. The date fell early this year.

Hesitating at the front door, she held her key in her hand. Case still hadn’t replied to her text saying she was on the way. But he hadn’t said not to come.

What if he was in bed with a woman? What if he hadn’t seen or heard her text? To stumble upon her client in a very personal moment would be humiliating in the extreme.

Muttering beneath her breath, she closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose, berating herself silently for having such a ridiculously over-the-top imagination.

At last, she knocked firmly, listened and finally opened the door. The house seemed empty. Besides, she’d heard the rumors about Case’s famous rules. He didn’t entertain females at his place.

After hovering in the foyer for several moments, she told herself she was being foolish. Today she was going to tackle Case’s kitchen. The sooner she started, the sooner she could escape, and maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with the aggravating rancher.

The house was cold, but she didn’t adjust the heat. By the time she’d been working for an hour she would be plenty warm. The windows in the yellow-toned kitchen were designed to let in lots of light, creating a cheery center to the house. But today the skies over Royal were gray and sullen.

November could go either way in Maverick County. At the moment, the weather was depressing and chilly to the bone.

Mellie left her jacket on, shivering in spite of herself. Her usual routine was to clean from the top down. Which meant unloading all the cabinets above the beautiful amber-toned granite countertop. In the utility cabinet she found a stepladder that was just tall enough to give her access all the way to the ceiling.

Cleaning the tops and outer surfaces of the cabinets was not so hard. But when she opened the first one, she grimaced. Dishes and other items were crammed in with no regard for maximizing space. There wasn’t even the barest nod toward order.

The best thing would be to empty everything and then come up with a system for replacing items in a manner that would make them easy for anyone to find. The contents of the first couple of cabinets were puzzling. On the very top shelves she found exquisite antique china...lots of it, cream-colored with an intricate pattern of yellow and gold. Farther down were ultramodern dishes in black and white.

She frowned. She was no designer, but the monochrome set looked as if it belonged in a high-end loft in SoHo, not a historic ranch house in Texas. Maybe Case thought the old stuff was not masculine enough for his taste. That was a shame, because there was a good possibility that the stacks of delicate porcelain were something that had been handed down through his family for generations.

Glassware was heavy. By the time she had emptied three cabinets—three shelves each—her back was aching. The little bottle of ibuprofen she kept in her purse was empty, but she remembered seeing some in Case’s bathroom.

In the elegant hallway with its hardwood floor and celadon walls, she stopped dead when she heard a sound. A groan. Not the house creaking as old houses often did, but something human.

She hurried her steps. “Mr. Baxter... Case?”

Another sound, this one muffled.

By the time she reached the open doorway to Case’s bedroom, she half expected to find him passed out on the floor, felled by a blow from a burglar. Her imagination ran rampant.

But the truth was equally distressing. Case lay facedown on his bed, wearing nothing except a white button-down shirt and gray boxer briefs.

Thank goodness he was facedown. Her first response was honest and self-revelatory but not pertinent to the situation.

Was he drunk? Surely not on a weekday before noon. She said his name again, approaching the bed with all the caution of a zookeeper entering the cage of a sleeping lion.

When she was close enough to touch him, her brain processed the available info. His head was turned toward her, his face flushed with color. Thick eyelashes lay against his cheeks. His lips were parted, his breathing harsh.

Ever so gently, she laid her hand against his forehead. The man was burning up with fever. Case Baxter had the flu. Or at least something equally serious.

He moaned again as she touched him. When he turned on his side toward her, she stroked his hair before she realized what she was doing. It was the same caress she would have used with a hurting child.

But Case was no child. His big masculine body shook uncontrollably, though his tanned chest was sheened with sweat. She probably shouldn’t have noticed his chest, but with his shirt completely unbuttoned, his flat belly and the dusting of dark hair at his midriff were hard to miss.

Her knees were less than steady, and she felt a bit woozy. Even passed out cold, Case did something to her. Something not entirely comfortable.

Ignoring her inappropriate reactions to the half-naked man, she pushed and pulled at him until she had him covered all the way to the neck. Case’s limbs were deadweight. The rest of him was equally heavy.

She sat down at the edge of the bed. On top of the covers. “Case?” she said. “Can you hear me?”

He muttered and stirred restlessly.

“Case.” She put a hand on his shoulder, injecting a note of authority, hoping to pierce the layers of illness that shrouded him.

His eyelids fluttered. “What?” The word was slurred.

How long had he been like this? People died from the flu. Not that Case was elderly or an infant, but still. “You need a doctor,” she said firmly. “Who can I call?”

The patient scrunched up his face. “Head hurts.”

Those two words destroyed her defenses entirely. Her newest client might be handsome and rich and arrogant as heck, but right now he was just a man in need of help. “I’ll get you some medicine,” she said. “But I need to check with your doctor.”

“Call Parker.” The command was almost inaudible.

She knew who he meant. Parker Reese was a gifted doctor who had saved more than one newborn at Royal Memorial Hospital. Parker and Case were friends. But for the flu?

“Don’t you have a regular doctor?”

“Call Parker...”

This time she could barely hear the words. “Sure,” she groused. “I’ll call a very busy specialist in the middle of the day to talk about a case of the flu.” But she didn’t really have much choice. Picking up Case’s phone from the bedside table, she sighed when she realized she couldn’t access his contacts.

She shook his shoulder again. “I need your code, Case.”

“2...2...2...2.”

Was he delirious, or did he really have such a ridiculously easy password? Apparently the latter, because it worked. Seconds later she located Parker Reese’s info and hit the green button.

She fully expected to get an answering machine, but on the third ring, a deep masculine voice answered. “Hey, Case. I’m about to go into surgery. What’s up?”

Mellie flushed. Luckily, the highly educated doctor couldn’t see her face. “Dr. Reese, this is Mellie Winslow. I showed up at Case Baxter’s house this morning to clean and found him passed out on the bed. I think it’s the flu, but I have no idea how long he’s been like this.”

“Several of us played poker last night. Case left early. Must have been feeling bad. I have a full schedule today, but I’ll pop by this evening.”

“And in the meantime?”

“Push fluids. Alternate acetaminophen and ibuprofen every two hours. Chicken soup and anything else bland.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be eating anytime soon, but I’ll try.”

Parker’s voice changed. “Do you want me to send out a nurse?”

Mellie hesitated. Two seconds. Three at the most. “Thank you, but no. I can do my work and look in on him from time to time. I don’t think he would be happy if we brought a stranger in to look after him.”

“Good point.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“No worries. I’m glad you did. I’ll be by later to check on you both.”

Mellie ended the call and stared at the man in the bed. Somehow she had gone from being a paid housekeeper to a volunteer nurse.

What would Case Baxter think of this new development?