“She better not be making some fancy stuff we can’t choke down” was all Cody said, jerking on the saddle’s cinch. He still felt like he’d been railroaded into hiring Vivienne. And Ted’s constant singing of her praises all day didn’t help either. It was annoying.
“Didn’t see you for breakfast.” Uncle Ted let his horse spit out the bit and hung the bridle over his arm. “You weren’t hungry?”
“Had things to do.”
“Seems to me like you’re avoiding our new cook,” he said with a knowing grin.
Cody heaved the saddle off the horse and moved to Bryce’s. “You know how busy I am.”
“You’ve got to learn to delegate more. Life isn’t just work. And now there’s a pretty new cook on the ranch.” He winked. “And I heard she’s single. You might want to make time for her.”
Cody didn’t bother responding to Uncle Ted’s blatant comments. In the distance a coyote sent up a lonely shivering wail into the cool evening air. But he heard no replying howl.
“It’s been almost four years since Tabitha,” his uncle said, his voice quiet.
Cody clenched the brush, knowing exactly where Ted was heading.
“You’ve been pushing yourself since then, working every hour of the day, going nonstop.” Ted kept his voice low, as if he knew he had to approach this subject with caution. “Tabitha is gone, and you can’t change that.”
Cody walked over to Bryce’s horse and started brushing him but said nothing. He didn’t want to talk about his former wife. Though he missed Tabitha, her betrayal had hurt him more than her passing had. They’d been drifting apart for months before she took off from the ranch.
“So now Vivienne Clayton is cooking here,” the older rancher continued, “and I think that’s a good thing.”
Cody snapped his head around, glaring at his uncle. He should have known his partner wasn’t trying to be sympathetic and understanding. Should have known that Uncle Ted always, always had a plan.
“I only hired her ‘cause I had no choice, thanks to you,” Cody said, wanting to stop Ted mid-matchmaking. “As for her cooking here, she’s a Clayton, and she’s only hanging around long enough to collect the money that old miser George left her. Once that happens, she’s back to New York where she belongs, far as I know. I would be surprised if she sticks it out here longer than a week.” He stopped, realizing how defensive he sounded.
Ted led his horse to the corral. “Why don’t you like her? I heard you two were an item a time back,” he called out over the screeching of the opening gate.
That Ted. He just never let up.
“We were never an item.” Cody’s movements were brisk as he finished brushing off Bryce’s horse.
“But I thought—”
“Look, Uncle Ted, you’re my partner, not my life coach.” As soon as he spoke the words, Cody wished he could take them back. It was thanks to his uncle he even had a stake in the Circle C. Uncle Ted had only one daughter, Karlee, who had no interest in ranching and lived in town. Ted had taken Cody in during the many trips his missionary parents made overseas and instilled in him a love of the land and a love of ranching.
One of Cody’s first memories was of Ted helping him onto a horse and leading him around the corral.
His uncle knew more about Cody than even his parents did. He knew Cody had a “thing” once upon a time for Vivienne Clayton. Ted just didn’t know how flatly Vivienne had turned him down. Cody had been too humiliated to give those details out and had let Ted believe something was brewing with him and “that gorgeous Clayton gal,” as Ted insisted on calling her.
“I’m sorry,” Cody said quietly, staring over the back of the horse at the darkening sky, unable to meet Ted’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just, well, I’ve got Bonnie driving me crazy with wanting to move closer to the center of town and we’ve the gather to take care of and hay to haul …” He let the sentence drift off. Too much to deal with. Too much to think about.
“It’s okay.” Ted untied Cody’s horse and led him to the corral, as well. “I get it.”
“I hope you do,” Cody said quietly. “Vivienne Clayton is just the cook here. Nothing else.”
“Sure. Of course.”
“She’s a city girl and always will be now.” Just like Tabitha was.
“Yup. I hear ya.”
Cody shot his uncle a warning glance as he put Bryce’s horse away, but Ted was already through the gate, obviously lured on by the mouth-watering smells drifting from the cookhouse. “You coming?” Ted called over his shoulder.
“Yeah. In a bit.” Reluctance kept him back, watching the horses rolling in the dirt, grunting with satisfaction as their legs flailed awkwardly in the air.
His stomach rumbled and he knew he couldn’t put off going to the cookhouse any longer.
Trouble was, Uncle Ted had hit on a nerve.
Vivienne Clayton looked as beautiful as he remembered, and in spite of what he’d had to deal with, she still held a certain fascination.
You’re older, wiser. She was just a high school crush.
He straightened his shoulders, told himself to man up and followed his uncle across the yard.
But before he could get into the cookhouse, the door slammed open and one of his hired hands, Dover, stormed down the stairs, grumbling as he went.
“What’s the matter?” Cody asked, catching his arm as he passed him.
Dover glared at the cookhouse then dropped his hat back on his balding head. “I’m starving.”
“Didn’t you just eat?”
“If you want to call that eating,” Dover returned, hitching his belt up over his protruding stomach. “Have to fill up on those lousy energy bars you got us a while back.”
And before Cody could ask him more, Dover was gone, his short, stubby legs pounding the dusty ground between the cookhouse and the bunkhouse.
Cody stepped into the cookhouse to the sound of grumbling and his heart dropped as a couple of the hands stared at him, looking as grumpy as Dover had.
Bryce sat at the table, frowning at his plate, Cade beside him poking something around on his plate. Even Ted, who had been so enthusiastic about hiring Vivienne, was looking at Bryce’s food with a puzzled expression.
Not again, he thought with a feeling of inevitability.
He sent up another prayer for an extra dose of energy and pushed open the door to the kitchen.
Vivienne stood with her back to him, stirring something, her silly cook’s hat crooked on her head.
Bowls, plates, pots and utensils covered every square inch of counter and even the butcher block table behind her. Even Stimpy Stevens, the cook who dipped a little too deeply into the cooking sherry, never made the kitchen this messy.
He was about to speak up when his little sister came out of the adjoining pantry carrying a bag of flour.
“Put the flour bag on the floor,” Vivienne said. “I’ll take care of it. For now, bring those plates of food out to your uncle Ted and your brother.”
As Bonnie set the flour down, Cody stifled a sigh. He thought her makeup was bad before. Today her lips were a bright crimson slash on a face adorned with pancake makeup. Her eyes were ringed with black and deep brown. She looked like a