Always a Lady (3 page)

"Yessirree," Duff crowed, hopped back into his pickup truck and headed for the house. He could almost taste supper.

"Please call me Lily," she asked, as they started toward the house.

"Okay. Lily it is. The same goes for me. The men call me Case, or Boss, whatever's comfortable."

She nodded and quickened her stride, trying to keep up with the distance his long legs covered in a step.

"So, Lily Brownfield," Case asked, as they entered the house. "Where do you live, when you're not here, that is?" He smiled softly, trying to hide his growing curiosity with innocent questions.

"L.A.," she answered.

Once more Case was dumbstruck. He leaned against the kitchen counter and shoved his hat to the back of his head.

Lily noted by the band of clean skin that appeared that his skin was a very dark shade of nut brown beneath the dust. A vague curiosity slid through her thoughts before she had time to squelch it.
I
wonder if he's that brown all over? She blushed and then frowned at herself.

"California?" he finally was able to mutter, wondering what the frown was for.

She nodded and sighed, running her shaky fingers through her hair and adjusting her sunglasses across her nose. Here it comes.

"What in hell would make someone as young and pretty as you come halfway across the country to cook for a bunch of filthy cowhands for three months? Surely you don't imagine that this is going to be a romantic lark?"

Lily spun around, yanked her sunglasses off her nose, and swept the hair away from her face in one angry gesture.

"Do I look like I'm looking for romance, Mr. Longren?"

Case grunted as if he'd just been kicked in the solar plexus. God in heaven, what had happened to her? He knew now was not the time to ask.

Lily waited, expecting to see horror darken the blue of his gaze, or watch him turn away in disgust as the full measure of her injury was revealed. But to her surprise, he did neither. He stood, watching her anger, yet not responding to it by word or action.

"Well?" Lily finally asked, her chin thrust upwards in defense, waiting for the thrust of his judgement.

"Well what?" he finally remarked.

"Do I stay?"

"Hell, yes," Case grumbled. "I already told you that. Just don't think you can make a bunch of Oklahoma cowboys eat alfalfa sprouts and sunflower seeds. Out here we eat beef, and feed the green stuff to the cattle."

Lily smiled. It was obvious that he wanted her to stay. It felt as if a huge weight had just disappeared from her shoulders.

"Yes, Boss," she said sharply. "Now would you please show me where I'll be sleeping, and where the kitchen and foodstuffs are?"

Lily knew she'd just been rude again and regretted her sharp manner the moment she'd spoken. It was too late to take back what she'd said, so she tried softening her words with a smile.

Case stared, dumbfounded by her beauty as her lips curved upwards. He no longer even noticed the red gash running the length of her cheek. He was too lost in wondering what it would taste like to kiss that smile.

"What did you say?" he finally asked.

"I said, where do you expect me to sleep?"

In my bed, came instantly to mind, and then Case wisely kept the thought to himself. He decided to stick to the facts.

"Come on," he muttered, "I'll show you to your room and then fill you in on the whereabouts of kitchen supplies and mealtimes. The rest is up to you."

TWO

They were coming. Lily could hear their easy laughter and tired jokes as they came up the back steps of the house. Her heart skipped a beat and then made up for it by beating double time as the first of the men entered the room.

Two long tables had been temporarily set up in the huge kitchen and adjoining dining area with an odd assortment of folding chairs shoved in place. There was plenty of room for the promised number of men that would be expecting food three times a day, six days a week. Lily prayed that she hadn't been off in calculating the correct quantities of food to prepare. She'd mentally counted what she used to fix for her father and four brothers and then multiplied it by six. If the men ate more than that, they were pigs.

Lily didn't know how the food had been served by her predecessor, Pete, but she knew from experience that the easiest way to feed a crowd was buffet style. She had the food set out in steaming array on the long, island work counter with the desserts and drinks on a roomy sideboard against a wall in the dining room.

Silence reigned as the last man squeezed himself into the kitchen and stood mashed against the wall, trying to get a glimpse of the new lady cook that they'd all been talking about. One cowboy couldn't see her, but it was his short, succinct comment that broke the silence and . . . for Lily . . . the ice.

"Well," he drawled, "I can't see you, lady, but I can damn sure smell the food. If you smell as purty as it does, you'll be all right."

Everyone laughed as Lily blushed. She had dreaded facing them, knowing that she'd see the shock and then disgust on their faces as she turned her scar their direction. But she was wrong. Very few were even looking at anything but the food, and the ones that eyed her seemed to be flirting, not frowning. Lily was amazed. Was it possible that she'd built up an over-exaggeration of how she looked in her own mind? She'd have to wait and see. For the time being, cooking had taken her mind off all her troubles. It felt good to be this tired again.

Another man spoke up and from what he said, Lily quickly determined that this was the much maligned Pete.

"I don't even care if it tastes bad," Pete drawled. "I've never been so glad to get rid of a job in my life. I was getting dishpan hands."

This time the laughter was an uproar and even Lily could not contain her mirth. It lightened the mood immediately.

"The food is ready and it's buffet style," Lily said. "Does someone give the blessing before you eat, or . . ."

"Not usually," Case answered.

Lily jumped. She hadn't known Case was behind her. She turned and stared. She hardly recognized him. He'd shaved! And the face that stared back at her sent her heart into overtime.

What a stubborn chin and jaw had been hiding beneath that three-day growth of beard! And who would have suspected such clean, strong lines existed beneath the dust he'd been wearing earlier? Case Longren wasn't just good-looking. He was handsome. Lily suspected he knew it. He was smiling at her with something akin to teasing.

She turned away from his stare and tried to ignore the fact that he was right behind her. But he was the boss. She supposed he could stand anywhere he chose.

"However, that doesn't mean it's not a good thing to start," he continued. "I'll do the honors tonight; tomorrow will be someone else's turn. Okay, men?"

Lily shivered. She wondered how long he'd been watching her. The thought was unnerving. Agreeable murmurs took away any embarrassment Lily might have felt for speaking out of turn about saying a prayer before the meal. It was such a normal part of her life that she'd forgotten many people did not practice the habit.

She bowed her head and gripped the counter with shaky fingers, thanking God for the fact that she'd survived the first day of this crazy idea without falling on her face.

"Amen," Case finally said, and many of the men echoed his word.

Lily blinked and raised her head. She'd been so nervous she hadn't heard a word he'd said. She had to get herself under control. It wasn't like her to be disorganized. She smoothed her hand down the side of her denim wraparound skirt and tucked her blue-striped blouse neatly back into the waistband. If she looked calm, maybe she'd feel calm.

"My gosh," one of the men muttered, "I may actually survive these three months after all. Real food!"

Lily surveyed the overflowing table as the men grabbed plates and made two lines on either side of the buffet, teasing and laughing as they heaped on the food. She'd done it! A little feeling of accomplishment crept into her heart. It was the first good feeling she could remember in a long, long time.

Case knew that if he was any kind of man, he should be apologizing to Lily Brownfield with hat in hand, but he was too hungry to take the time. Alfalfa sprouts and sunflower seeds indeed! The table looked great! Somehow she'd taken the same type of food that Pete had managed to boil to death or aptly burn and turned it into appetizing food.

He scooped hungrily into a long pan of lasagna, and took heaping helpings of two kinds of cold salads and a couple of fried chicken legs. He lingered over the hot biscuits, slathering butter on two before being jostled by the men behind him as they urged him to hurry. As he entered the dining room, he eyed the pans of apple crisp on the sideboard and stopped to scoop up a heaping dish of dessert before he dared go sit down. If he waited until he was ready for dessert, he was afraid that it would be gone. He'd never seen the men so eager for a meal.

The first bite was better than expected. He chewed, resisting the urge to moan in pleasure and then looked up in surprise as he saw Lily watching him for a reaction. He smiled as best he could around the mouthful and then winked his approval. The look on her face was worth it. She looked like she'd just swallowed a toad as she turned and fled into the kitchen.

Case grinned to himself and attacked the rest of his food with relish. He hadn't hired a pig in a poke after all. In fact, he'd hired a very capable, and from the quick glimpses she would allow of herself, a very pretty cook.

The last man was finally leaving the kitchen. Lily thought she was going to have to beg him not to scrape the bowls.

"There'll be more tomorrow," Lily had teased softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

The blush that had crept up his neck matched the one on her face as he looked up and finally focused on her cheek.

She watched his eyebrows raise, his mouth go slack with shock, and his eyes follow the path from the corner of her eye, down her cheek, toward her mouth. He swallowed, turned away and then back again, staring intently at her scar. But the remark he made was not what Lily had expected.

He licked a bit of remaining apple crisp from his fingers, looked back at her cheek and drawled, "If you fight as good as you cook, lady, I'd hate to see what the other guy looked like."

Lily's mouth dropped. The man sauntered out of the back door and into the fading daylight as Lily sank limply onto a kitchen stool.

Suddenly the stress of the day set in as Lily began to shake. She surveyed the mountain of dirty pans and dishes still to clean and buried her face in her hands. Dear Lord, I'm tired.

Before she had time to bemoan her fate, she felt a tug at the back of her head. She looked up. Case was yanking lightly at the thick braid hanging down the middle of her back.

"Are you all right?" he asked, eyeing the pallor of her face.

The protective feeling that had swept over him when he'd walked into the kitchen and seen her sitting with her head bowed in despair had hit all the way down to the pit of his stomach. It surprised him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worried about a woman in this manner.

"I'm fine," Lily answered shortly as she ducked her head, pulled her braid out of his teasing fingers, and darted toward the table to gather up the dirty dishes.

Case stood watching her work, knowing that his presence was making her uncomfortable. He'd give a week's pay to know what had happened to Lily Brownfield, but tonight was obviously not the time to ask.

"Breakfast is at six," he said shortly before turning and disappearing into the living area of his home.

"Yes, Boss," Lily answered sharply. But her words were unnecessary. Case Longren was gone.

The next few days passed in a blur of heat, smells of cooking food, hungry men, and aching back and feet, but Lily survived. And, each day it became a little easier.

On this day, she had at least an hour before she needed to start the noon meal. She walked out onto the back porch with a tall glass of iced tea and slid sideways onto the porch swing, putting her feet on the opposite arm rest. It felt good to sit down with her feet up. Her navy blue culottes and matching blouse were cool and comfortable and still practical for her job.

She leaned back, letting the roomy legs of her divided skirt slide upward just the tiniest bit and closed her eyes as she ran the cold glass of tea along her forehead and then down the side of her face, relishing the drip of condensation. She sighed, raised the glass to her lips, and took a long, deep drink of the slightly sweet liquid. Tea had never tasted so good.

"Ooowee, honey, but you sure look fine."

The voice was unexpected and unfamiliar and Lily almost fell out of the porch swing as she scrambled to get to her feet and smooth down her skirt. She turned her face away, shielding the side with the scar from prying eyes.

She recognized the man's face, knew the men called him Lane, but she didn't know whether it was a first or last name.

"Was there something you needed?" Lily asked sharply. She didn't like his familiar manner or the way his look lingered too long for decency on her breasts and legs.

"Always," he drawled.

Lily blushed furiously. She didn't like this man at all.

"Then why are you here? Did Case send you up to the house for something?"

The mention of the boss's name made Lane turn around and sneak a quick look toward the arena where all the aspects of roundup were still in progress.

"Naw," he answered. "I just wanted to take the time to tell you in person that I think you're a fine-looking woman and a great cook to boot."

"Thank you," Lily answered and started back in the house. "I have to go inside now." She wanted this meeting brought to an end. There was something ugly about the way he kept searching her body. And then his next words confirmed her suspicions and made her even more certain that this was a man from whom to steer clear.