The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) (11 page)

H
annah admitted defeat
at lunchtime. She’d combed through the ranches in southern Montana once before and this time she had no better luck finding a place to board Gladys. Bison ranches had gained in popularity but there were none close by, and the rest of the ranches weren’t interested in introducing a whole new kind of critter to their herds. A few places far to the west might take her, but the cost of the proposition was outlandish. Keeping her at the Double-Bar-K was her best bet. Hannah closed the browser on her computer and glanced at the calendar on the wall. She could take thirteen days of Holt’s abuse, she decided, and the thirteen nights of Jake’s company would be… bearable. As long as he didn’t discuss marriage and his outdated ideas about wives.

She had to stay on top of her emotions, though. Jake was the best lover she’d ever had, but she didn’t know if the torn condom was a fluke or if he’d done something on purpose. She couldn’t be with a man who would try to force her hand like that. And even if it was an accident—which she suspected it was—it pointed out all the reasons she shouldn’t get caught up with Jake. She didn’t intend to stay with him. Not when they were at such different places in their lives.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming message. A text from Jake.

Speak of the devil
, she thought, reading it. “Plan on two extras for dinner.” A jolt of anger spiked through her at the reminder that Holt was forcing her to cook dinner for him and Lisa, and that Jake probably thought it was a fine idea. Two extras—
duh
. She rolled her eyes, but figured it was a good thing Holt had let Jake know he and Lisa were coming to eat with them tonight. Now he’d get home on time and maybe he could help her with the last-minute details.

And afterward they’d have a serious talk. About the condom, about the next two weeks, and about how they’d handle a pregnancy if there was one.

Hannah fought the urge to cry. How had she gotten into this mess? Twenty-four hours ago the prospect of living with Jake had sounded fun. Now she was so confused she didn’t know where to turn.

It was all Holt’s fault.

And now she was supposed to clean up Jake’s cabin and cook for the man?

Plus the man’s wife. Hannah wondered if Lisa knew about any of Holt’s schemes. She had always wondered why such a smart, lovely woman would marry such a pain-in-the-ass. What would Lisa say tonight at dinner? Would anyone tell her what was really going on?

Hannah decided she’d make the upcoming ordeal palatable to herself by pretending she had voluntarily invited Lisa to dinner. Forget Jake and forget Holt. Lisa had always been sweet when they’d met up. She had no problem cooking a meal for a woman like that. The rest of the Mathesons could go hang themselves, though.

Bella ushered a client out of the examining room—Patty Akins and her schnauzer, Prince. Once Patty had paid her bill and said her good-byes, Hannah asked Bella to stay and talk a moment. “I hate to even ask, but is there any way I can take the afternoon off?” She gave her boss and friend a sanitized version of the events of the past day. “I told Holt I’d have him and Lisa to dinner since they’ve been so great about letting Gladys stay.” She nearly choked on the lie, but it was better than admitting the truth. Bella would think she was an idiot to allow Holt to blackmail her.

“You really like Jake, don’t you?” Bella asked.

Hannah figured she was referring to the blush she could feel heating her cheeks. She hesitated. “Yes,” she conceded, “but it’s not as easy as that.”

“Somehow love never is, but you’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so.” She hoped she’d figure out how to last through dinner.

“Why don’t you head out right now? Just leave me the rest of the files for this afternoon.”

“Thanks! I’ll come in early tomorrow to get back on top of it all. I promise.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been working like mad, we both have!” Bella said. “I, for one, am looking forward to Christmas vacation.” She disappeared into the back and Hannah began to gather her things.

By Christmas vacation she’d know whether or not she was having a baby. If Jake had his way, she’d be married, too. Reeling under those thoughts, she headed out the door.

An hour later she set three bags of groceries on the kitchen table in Jake’s cabin and went out for her next load. She’d picked up everything she needed for a roast chicken dinner. With chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits and a salad, she figured she’d please the pickiest rancher, and all of those dishes were easy as pie to make, as long as she got to it right away.

Thank goodness she’d thought to stop at Autumn’s house and borrow some pots and pans, she thought half an hour later. Jake’s house was stocked with the barest of cooking essentials and she’d have been up a creek without a paddle otherwise. With the chicken in the oven, she turned her attention to cleaning house. She’d start with the most visible areas—the kitchen, living room and downstairs bathroom—and work her way up, leaving Jake’s room for last. The thought of cleaning up his personal things made her cringe. She wasn’t some sort of maid, after all. She didn’t want him to get used to this treatment.

As anger grew within her once more, however, Hannah took a couple of deep breaths. Why was she letting Holt and Jake stir her up like this? Right now she was reacting to Holt’s machinations. She was being his victim. That wasn’t the kind of woman she wanted to be. She had taken the afternoon off to throw a dinner party, and she was going to revel in it. No more moping or simmering with anger. She wasn’t doing this for Jake or Holt. She was doing this for Lisa—and herself. She deserved a beautiful, clean home to live in for the next thirteen days and she deserved a wonderful home-cooked meal to eat tonight. Her mood somewhat restored, she got to work.

Along with the groceries, she’d bought a number of different cleaning supplies, a bucket, mop and scrubbing sponges. She set her iPod to her most upbeat playlist, snapped on a pair of gloves and got to work. Just as she’d suspected, Jake already owned a broom and vacuum cleaner. She piled everything that didn’t belong on the first floor on the stairs and cleaned like a madwoman, telling herself the faster she went, the better workout she’d get. The mindless tasks weren’t as bad as she expected. Some places needed a better scrubbing than she had time for—such as the refrigerator, the bathroom tiles and inside the oven—but when the rooms sparkled, she picked up the load of Jake’s belongings and hauled them up to his room.

Back downstairs, she whipped up a pan of brownies, prepped the biscuit dough, made the salad, and peeled the potatoes. With her busy schedule she never took time to make a fancy supper—certainly not since she’d been staying at the Cruz ranch where Autumn seemed to cook from morning to night. It was kind of fun as a change of pace. As the afternoon progressed, she realized that Holt could try to boss her around and Jake could try to force her hand, but in the end she was the one who decided whether or not to let them. She’d made a choice to secure a place for Gladys and she could stand two weeks of Holt’s craziness. She’d made a choice to sleep with Jake and she’d accept the consequences of that action. If she was pregnant, she’d add a baby to the mix and go to school anyway. Why not? Other women did and survived.

The thought made her feel powerful after feeling so controlled by Holt and Jake, and she sang along to her tunes as she cooked. While the brownies baked, she whipped back upstairs and unpacked her things in the spare room. She estimated she had fifteen minutes of cleaning time left when she was done. After that she’d need to put all her attention on preparing the evening meal for her guests.

Guest.

She only cared about Lisa. Holt could go to hell.

Approaching Jake’s room with trepidation, she wondered how Holt would even know if she’d cleaned it. She decided she’d straighten up the big things first, and get to the bathroom if there was time. Holt might stick his nose into the room, but she doubted he’d inspect his son’s private bathroom.

Of course, this was Holt she was talking about.

Hannah sighed and decided to tackle this last room as if she was running sprints. She made the bed, threw dirty clothes into the laundry basket, picked up papers and miscellaneous items from the floor, lining them up on his desk and dresser in ways she hoped made sense. She ran the vacuum around as quickly as she could and shut the closet door, before racing into the bathroom and scrubbing and tidying as fast as she could in the few minutes she had left.

Good enough, she decided when the buzzer went off downstairs. Racing back down again, she saved the brownies from overcooking, scuttled around to put all the cleaning supplies away, and popped the biscuits in the oven. She set the brand new tablecloth she’d purchased over Jake’s dining room table and carefully set four places. She placed a bottle of wine on the counter top, removed the cover over the roasting chicken to brown the top, and spooned out the broth to start the gravy. A look around told her everything was in place.

A look down at herself told her she looked like hell.

Hannah panicked, then rolled her eyes at herself for caring as she raced for her room and tore off her clothes, reaching for the first thing that came to hand in her closet—a clingy dress of cobalt blue that made her eyes pop and her hair glow. It was far too dressy for the occasion, but there wasn’t time to try again. She shimmied into it, did up the zipper, yanked her pony-tail holder out of her hair and fluffed it up, checking her reflection in the mirror.

She was flushed with the heat of the kitchen and all her exertions and her hair was wild, but the effect wasn’t awful. In fact… she pursed her lips. She didn’t look half bad. Maybe a day out of the clinic now and then wasn’t the worst thing in the world, although she’d prefer to do something a little more exciting than clean house.

What would Jake think when he saw her?

She didn’t care what he thought, she reminded herself. Jake was out of bounds from here on in. She was in control. She would determine her own future.

A knock sounded at the door and she hurried to the stairs, realizing it must be Holt and Lisa. Where was Jake? He should have been home by now, especially since it was his father who had forced this little dinner on her.

When she reached the door, however, Ned pushed through it. “Jake said dinner’s here tonight. Smells good. Got any beer?” He walked straight to the kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed one of the bottles she’d bought just in case Holt disliked wine.

“Um… help yourself.” Hannah’s mind raced. Jake had invited Ned to dinner, too? Why hadn’t he told her?

Maybe Holt never told Jake he and Lisa were coming to dinner, after all. Which meant Jake’s cryptic text referred to Ned… and someone else. Who could that be?

“I told Luke I was eating here. He said he’d come, too.”

Hannah bit her lip. She’d better set three more places then—for Ned, Luke and the mystery guest. She hoped she’d made enough food for seven. Should she throw some more potatoes in? Setting out three more plates, she jumped when the door banged open again and Jake rushed in.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said as he rushed past. “I got held up with chores. You got my message about Ned and Mia, didn’t you? I’ll throw a couple of pizzas in the oven in a minute.”

“Mia?” She set the last plate down on the table with a thump. Why would Jake invite Mia?

“Yeah. I told you there’d be two more for dinner. Hey, Ned. Got yourself something to drink?”

“Yep.” Ned raised his beer to Jake and flopped down on the couch.

Hannah followed Jake into the kitchen. “But your parents are coming, and so is Luke,” she said. “And I only cooked for four people.” Her voice rose as she calculated how little she had to serve. If she had a microwave she could cook some more potatoes fast, but Jake had no microwave.

“Maybe you better cook that pizza,” Ned called out, chuckling at their discomfort.

“No,” Hannah said. “Your dad said your mother wanted a formal dinner.”

“Wait, what?” Jake stopped midway across the room and looked around him. He took in the tablecloth and candles on the table, seemed to realize how clean everything was. “Wow! It looks fantastic.” He sniffed the air. “Smells great, too.” A smile broke across his face as he closed the gap between them, pulled her close and gave her a kiss. “You’re amazing. When I left the message I didn’t think you’d do anything like this. I thought we’d toss something frozen in the oven and have a few beers.”

“I… it wasn’t…”

Jake pulled away and checked the oven. He laughed, a low, masculine sound that stirred Hannah’s senses even in the midst of chaos. “You’re right; that bird’s a little light for this clan. We Mathesons like our grub.” He straightened up. “We’ll need more chairs, too. Ned—go get the ones from your place.” He opened the freezer and pulled out a couple of pizzas. “Tell you what—Ned’s right; we’ll pop these in the oven now and when they’re ready we’ll cut them up in little squares and call them appetizers. What do you think?”

Despite her annoyance, she was impressed with his creativity and take charge attitude. She doubted she would have thought of that. “It might work.”

“I’m on it.” Jake whistled as he opened the boxes and placed the pizzas on cookie sheets, then disappeared upstairs to change. Hannah worked on her gravy and got her biscuits out of the oven, replacing them with the trays of pizza. She placed the salad on the table and brought out the salad dressings as well, and by the time Holt and Lisa arrived, she felt like she had the meal under control again.

“You cleaned my bedroom,” Jake whispered in her ear when they met again in the kitchen ten minutes later. He’d poured his mother a glass of wine and handed Holt a beer. All three of their guests were seated in the living room. Jake’s breath tickled her neck.

“It’s no big deal,” she said shortly.

“It is to me. No one’s ever done something like that before. Except Mom.”

That’s because you’re a grown man
, she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to start a fight right now. Not with an audience. She pulled away and went to stir the gravy.