Home Is Where Hank Is (Cowboys To The Rescue 1) (6 page)
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Authors: Martha Shields
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Adult, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Sensual, #Hearts Desire, #Harlequin Treasury, #Series, #Cowboys, #Rescue, #Family Life, #Western, #Rancher, #Rodeo, #Teenage Sister, #Caretaker, #Household, #Manage, #Persuade, #Reconcile, #Relationships, #Marriage Minded, #General Romance, #Silhouette, #1990's
BOOK: Home Is Where Hank Is (Cowboys To The Rescue 1)
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Content with the progress, she checked on Sugar. The cat ran free in the house during the day, but as the sun began to disappear, Alex put him in her room so he wouldn’t be stomped underfoot.
Feeling restless, Alex left Sugar to his nightly cleaning ritual and wandered onto the back porch. The temperature had fallen with the sun, but instead of retreating back inside, she meandered over to the swing hanging at one end and lowered herself into it. The thermometer would dip close to freezing by morning.
Recalling Claire’s warm words earlier warmed Alex even as it made her sad. Sister. How she’d longed for one when she was growing up. But she’d heard declarations like Claire’s from friends before, and when hard times came, those statements proved to be worth nothing more than the air they were carried on. Since she’d be moving on in three weeks, Claire’s would no doubt prove as worthless. Still, it felt good to hear the words.
From her swinging perch, she surveyed the part of the sky she could see. So many stars. Which was her lucky one? If she knew, she would wish on it every night for...for what? She had what she wanted, didn’t she? The chance to study under a master chef.
“Howdy, Alex. What’s up?”
Derek’s deep voice startled her out of her thoughts. “Nothing’s changed since supper. You here to get more of that chocolate pie?”
“Well, now, if you’re wanting to get rid of it, I’d be willing to force it down my throat, but...”
“Yes?” Alex prompted, though she knew what was coming.
“Is Miss Claire anywheres about?”
Alex was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the pity in her eyes. Derek came up to the house every night, asking after Claire. He’d fallen in love with the girl, that much was obvious. But his love was unrequited. The first night Alex went upstairs to tell Claire she had a gentleman caller, Claire made it very clear that she had no interest in Derek or any other cowboy. Claire considered cowboys filthy, unkempt fellows who wouldn’t know romance if it came up and grabbed their horse by the tail. She planned to get her degree and find a good job in a big city like Chicago, Dallas or Denver.
“Claire’s studying, Derek. I think she’s got a calculus test tomorrow.”
Derek nodded and pushed his hat back on his head. In the light coming through the screen door, he made a sad attempt at a grin. “Well, you can’t blame a fella for trying.”
“I’ll get you that pie.”
A few minutes later they were back on the porch. Alex set the swing moving again while Derek sat on the top step and fed on the chocolate dessert. A few minutes later Jed and Buck wandered up, and Alex got up to cut them each a piece of pie.
As they ate, Alex asked them questions about the ranch and their jobs. They talked freely, and eventually the conversation turned to Alex and why she didn’t ride.
“You mean you ain’t never sat on a horse?” Jed exclaimed. “There’s gotta be a law!”
“I’ve never had the opportunity. There weren’t any horses at...where I grew up.” She hadn’t told anyone about her days at the orphanage and didn’t intend to.
“Hell, we’ll teach ya,” Buck said. “’Tween the three of us, we could learn anybody how to ride.”
“That’s my job.”
They all turned to see Hank’s silhouette in the doorway.
The screen door squeaked as he pushed it open. “I told her I’d teach her, I just haven’t had time.”
“Sure, boss,” Derek said.
The hands shared a smiling look as Hank walked over to Alex. “May I join you?”
She stopped the swing and scooted to the far left. His descending weight made the chains rattle, then one boot set the swing back in motion.
Alex swallowed hard as his nearness sent her senses reeling. He smelled clean, like the soap in the upstairs bathroom. But underneath he emanated an odor that was heavier, muskier. It made her want to lean toward him and take a deep breath. His heat also acted like a magnet. She had to hang on to the arm of the swing to keep from moving toward him. With her right side heating up and her left side in the cold, she couldn’t control the shiver that skimmed along her spine.
Hank interrupted his discussion with the hands about which horse would make her a good mount. “You cold?”
Alex ran her hand up her left arm. “A little. I’m okay.”
Without another word, he rose and stepped inside. A few seconds later he returned carrying the lined denim jacket she’d seen on him nearly every day.
“Lean forward,” he commanded.
She leaned, and he swung the jacket around her shoulders, then settled back on the swing. The conversation took up where he’d left it, but Alex barely noticed. That musky male odor she’d noticed earlier rose to her nostrils in powerful waves, mingled with the scents of horses, hay and fresh air.
Such a small kindness, so casually extended. It probably meant nothing to him. But it meant the world to someone who’d never belonged anywhere. Sure, most people were nice to her, but they never went out of their way to make her comfortable. They didn’t care enough one way or another.
Until now.
“That all right with you? Hey, you awake?”
Alex’s eyes flew open when Hank’s hand touched her knee. Warm and heavy, it settled there, sending sparks shooting up her leg. “What?”
“We’re going to put you on Maisy. She’s gentle enough for a beginner. I’ll try to make it in early tomorrow afternoon to give you your first lesson. Okay?”
“Sure.” Alex cleared the frog suddenly caught in her throat. “Whatever you say. Don’t go to any trouble just for—”
Hank squeezed her knee. “Hell, woman, it’s not for you. We’ve got to get you riding if we’re gonna have any grub at all on the drive.”
Alex glanced down at the broad hand resting easily on her leg. How could simple pressure cause such havoc all over her body? Her blood felt like stampeding horses, racing through her veins with pounding hooves.
She shivered from more than the cold. There was no mistaking this as a friendly gesture. This was a man-woman gesture—a possessive man-woman gesture. Even so, her first instinct was to cover his hand with her own. The warm weight on her leg felt familiar, felt right. It made her feel things she had no business feeling—like maybe this man cared for her, like she belonged.
“Alex? You’ll be here for the drive, won’t you?”
Derek’s question snapped her mind back to reality. She crossed her legs, and Hank removed his hand. “When is it?”
“In two weeks,” Hank said.
“Then I’ll still be here.” Her heart still racing, she turned to Hank, only able to look at him because it was dark. “I’ll be glad to learn to ride whenever someone has time to teach me.”
“I’ll be teaching you, and we’ll shoot for tomorrow, if that’s okay. For now, I think it’s time some cowpokes turned in. Sunrise comes mighty early.”
Alex rose as the hands grumbled good-naturedly and wandered toward the bunk house. She removed Hank’s jacket, and he opened the door for her.
“Thanks for the loan.” She handed Hank his coat without meeting his eyes.
“No problem.” He took the coat and draped it over the hook beneath his hat. He turned but made no move to leave. The air between them felt electric.
Uncomfortable with his eyes on her, Alex cast around in her mind for a safe subject. Relief flooded through her as she remembered one. “Would you like a piece of pie?”
“Is there any left?”
Sure of herself now that she could feed somebody, she moved into the kitchen straight to the refrigerator.
Hank walked in behind her.
“I saved it for you. I’ve heard you moving around in here late at night—” She froze with her grip on the door handle as she realized what she’d said. To cover what might be considered an innuendo—it sure felt like one to her—she opened the refrigerator, pulled out a plate and set it on the table. “Anyway, I found things missing the next morning, so I know you’ve been getting hungry. The hands have been eating up all the dessert. Tonight I thought I’d cut you a piece first, before they got to it. I mean, you’re the boss and all. You should have first crack at it.”
Every muscle in Hank’s body grew hard as he stared down at the extralarge piece of chocolate pie while she went to get a fork. Every time he thought he’d gotten past this stupid attraction that neither of them wanted, she went and did something like this.
It wasn’t much, just a piece of pie. But it meant she thought about him, just like he thought about her. If only she knew what drove him downstairs in the middle of the night, she’d probably run screaming to her little yellow car and take off like a mare chased by a grizzly. It was hunger, all right, but not the kind she meant, though he ended up trying to appease it with mere food. Knowing that she’d heard him, that she lay awake while he stared at her closed door, sent heat shattering through him.
“Coffee?”
Hank hoped the intensity in his body didn’t show in his face as he met her eyes. “Sure.” He had to force his muscles to relax before he could bend enough to settle in the chair. As he sat, she set the coffee cup next to his plate. He found it strong and black, just the way he liked it.
He picked up the fork and dug into the pie. She sat quietly across from him, sipping a glass of ice water. He ate steadily, trying not to dwell on how her eyes followed every trip of the fork from the plate to his mouth.
He finally set the fork across the plate, took a sip of coffee and cleared his throat. “About this trip to Laramie...”
She sat up. “Is it okay? I don’t want to usurp your authority, but it seemed to mean a lot to Claire, and I wanted to help.”
“You don’t have to give up your day off to chaperone a couple of silly girls on a shopping trip. They can make do with—”
“I don’t mind. Really. I mean, I don’t have anything else to do. Unless you’d rather they didn’t go at all.”
Hank shook his head. “I’m not a monster, no matter what she says. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to set a couple of girls loose in a rough cow town like Laramie. If you’ll go with them, I’m happy. When she came back upstairs, I was trying to figure out how I could get my chores done so I could take them.”
Alex cocked her head. “Does Claire know that?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think it’d help if you told her?”
He frowned. “Why would it?”
She looked down, then back at him, then away again.
“Go ahead and say it before you bust a gut,” he said.
She sighed. “What the heck, all you can do is fire me. Then you’d be out the money you paid for my radiator. Mind if I give you a little friendly advice?”
“How friendly you talking about?”
. “I’ve noticed that you’re not too good at telling people the why of things. You just give an order and expect it to be obeyed.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m the boss.”
“Of Claire?”
“I’m her legal guardian for another couple of months. I don’t think I’ve done such a bad job raising her and Travis.”
“No, you haven’t. She’s a beautiful young lady. It’s just that she’s about grown up. If you would explain things to her, let her know what’s going on, she’d understand why you’re making her do the things you do, or not letting her do the things she can’t. Open up a little. You’d probably be surprised at how much closer you’ll be.” She smiled wryly. “It’d work with the hands, too, you know. I’m sure you have good reasons for the orders you give. If you told them why they’re cleaning the tack for the second time that day, they probably wouldn’t grumble so much.”
He leaned back in his chair, as if he could get away from her words. Alex had just described his father. John Eden had never explained anything. Never told the crew why they had to work through lunch. Never told his sons he was proud of them, or that he loved them.
If Hank could dive into his gene pool and zap the genes he’d gotten from his father, he would. Hank had sworn years ago that he’d never walk in John Eden’s boots. He would’ve punched any cowpoke that claimed he did.
Hank looked down at the arm he’d placed alongside his plate and saw that his hand was only inches from Alex’s. Funny, he didn’t feel like punching her. His fingers ached to stretch out and touch her helping hand. For the first time in eight years he had someone to help him, especially with Claire. Oh, the other cooks helped some, but only because they’d been paid to. None would’ve considered giving up their day off for a twelve-hour drive with two giggling teenagers. He felt a tiny bit of the weight on his shoulders lift, and the heat that had centered in one part of his anatomy spread throughout his body, warming even the marrow of his bones.
“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn,” she said into the silence. “And if the thought of talking to Claire is that hard, I’ll tell her that you were planning to—”
“No, it’s not that. It’s...too complicated to go into.” Damn, he was clamming up again—just like his father. He drew breath to explain further and was relieved when Alex spoke first.
“If all this was so much trouble, why did you insist Claire go to the prom?”
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