“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