The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) (23 page)

“I won’t spill. And I’ll help you get ready for Saturday any way I can.”

A half-hour later they were perusing the glass cases of Thayer’s Jewelers where Rose had worked until recently. Rose had emitted a sigh of relief when they walked in and found her old boss wasn’t present. “Hi, Andrea,” she called. “This is Fila and Ned—they’re old friends of mine.”

Andrea came and handed her a set of keys. “Emory’s not coming in today. Take your time.”

“She lets you have the keys to the cases?” Ned asked. “Even though you don’t work here anymore?”

“Only on special occasions,” Rose said. “We’re friends,” she explained. “And I let her vent about Emory to me whenever she needs to. Which is a lot.” She smiled. Fila knew that Rose’s former boss had been a thorn in her side, so she understood. Rose began to point out rings she thought might suit.

Fila loved the way Ned kept a hand on her at all times during the proceedings, as if she might slip away from him if he wasn’t careful. It was a far different thing than the way her captors had watched over her—it came from a place of desire, not of control.

The ring they chose in the end was both delicate and strong. A little old-fashioned, but that suited her. It made her think of the strength of traditions, while the more playful elements reminded her there was always room for change and growth.

Fila wanted to wear it home, but it needed a slight adjustment, and they’d already agreed to debut it at her restaurant’s dry run. Now it was time to get busy preparing for the day when her friends would taste-test her food. Everyone had volunteered to help. She needed to make to-do lists and contact them.

The next few days flew by for Fila in a whirlwind of planning and preparation. Mia, Hannah and the women from the Cruz ranch took turns shopping with her and getting everything set up at the restaurant. Fila combed the Internet for tips on staging so many meals at once and Autumn filled her in on everything she knew about cooking for a crowd.

“When I serve my guests, I serve them all at once, like a family, though,” she cautioned. “That’s pretty much how it will be for your dry run, but on a normal day you’ll need to know how to serve people continuously over the course of hours—that’s a whole different ballgame.”

Fila wished she knew someone with more experience to consult.

“What about Camila?” Mia asked her on Friday morning when they were stocking the refrigerator with the last perishable ingredients they would need for the following day. “She’s got lots of experience, right?”

Fila tried to hide her reaction. Why wouldn’t she consult Camila? Because Camila had set her sights on Ned? So what—she was the one about to wear his ring. Because Camila hogged everyone’s attention with her outgoing ways and her winning smile? That was just petty.

Petty, but true.

Fila sighed and told herself not to be ridiculous. If she really wanted to be the star attraction of a gathering, then she needed to learn to shine. And if she didn’t want all that attention, then she couldn’t complain if someone else hogged it. “Okay. I’ll see if she’s next door.”

“I didn’t see lights on when we came in.” But Mia trailed her to the door and over to Camila’s restaurant. No one was inside, so they decided to head home for an early lunch with Ned and Luke before coming back for the remainder of the afternoon.

When they pulled into the long lane leading into the Double-Bar-K, Mia was the first to spot the car in front of Fila and Ned’s cabin. “Isn’t that…Camila’s?” she said as they pulled in beside it.

Fila nodded, her chest tightening with suspicion. Why would Camila come here? To see her?

Or to see Ned?

She slipped out of Mia’s truck and quickly dashed up the stairs to the cabin’s front porch. Twisting the handle of the front door, she barged right in—

In time to see Camila spring apart from Ned and Ned scramble to throw a blanket over his legs.

He still sat propped up on the bed they’d installed in the living room. Camila was obviously flustered. So was the man who was supposed to announce their engagement tomorrow. Fury filled her in a split second.

“Fila—” Ned pushed himself up straighter. “I didn’t expect you for another fifteen minutes.”

“What are you doing?” Fila didn’t even recognize her own voice, it was so strident.

“Nothing.”

“Ned—” Camila ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it into place.

“Nothing.” He shot a look at Camila. His growl reminded Fila of Holt’s when he was laying down the law.

She wasn’t fooled. They’d been kissing. It was plain as day. Fila backed up a step, fumbling behind her for the door. She had to get out of here—had to—

“You have to tell her.” Camila turned on him. “What she’s thinking is worse!”

A strange look passed between them. A knowing look.

Fila had seen enough.

She spun around, reached blindly for the handle through eyes already filling with tears. She should have known she wasn’t destined for happiness. Should have known pain would follow her wherever she went.

“He’s reading!” Camila shouted after her, her tone exasperated. Fila hesitated and the front door banged into her as Mia rushed in, her mouth dropping open in surprise when she saw Fila’s tears.

“What’s wrong?” Mia looked past Fila, her eyes widening as Camila rushed toward them, a textbook held aloft in her hand. “Duck!” Mia knocked Fila aside, sprang for Camila, and tore the book from her fingers. Camila tripped and went down hard.

“What the hell—ow!” Ned lurched from the bed and staggered toward them, his cast thumping on the hardwood floor. “Mia—what are you doing?”

Fila caught her balance and swung around to see Mia brandishing the book over Camila’s head. “You saw her! She was going to hit Fila!”

The door swung open again and Luke spilled in. “Is it lunch time—hey, what’s going on?”

“Your girlfriend is beating up my tutor! Get her off!” Ned bellowed.

Luke reached down and plucked Mia away from the wild-eyed Camila, who surged up after her, swearing up a blue streak in Spanish. Ned caught her arm before she could pounce on Mia.

But Fila wasn’t watching Camila anymore. She was watching Ned. Replaying his words.

His tutor?

What kind of tutor?

She grabbed the book from Mia who was squirming in Luke’s arms.

Elements of Literacy.

“Damn it!” Ned reached her and snatched it from her hands. Held it behind his back.

Literacy? That meant reading, right?

The truth hit her and she clapped a hand to her mouth, nearly laughing out loud at the misunderstanding. Of course Ned wouldn’t want her to know he was learning to read. He wouldn’t be able to admit that to anyone.

But he had to Camila.

Fila scowled. “She’s teaching you to read?”

Ned frowned fiercely, but finally nodded once. “I went to the volunteer bureau. They assigned me to her.” His face had turned an interesting color and she knew him well enough to understand he was pushed to the edge of his capability to keep control.

Well, so was she. “That’s all she did?”

“Assigned her to do what?” Luke broke in, looking bewildered. Ned’s shoulders slumped. After a moment he held up the book so Luke could read the title. Luke’s eyebrows shot up.

“Huh.”

Ned met her gaze. “That’s all she did. I can’t believe you have to ask.”

She bit her lip, then relaxed and let go of the anger that had filled her. Of course Ned wasn’t fooling around with Camila. She knew he was in love with her. Every touch and glance told her so. Poor Ned. He was trying to learn to read, and now four people knew—four too many, if she judged him correctly.

Filled with a sudden compassion for him, she turned on Mia and Luke.

“Neither of you will ever mention this again. Not you, either,” she said to Camila. “You will teach him when I’m home, so people think you’re visiting me. Understand?”

For a moment she thought Camila would argue, but in the end she only nodded. Fila turned to the other couple. “Understand?”

Mia’s gaze shifted from her to Ned to Camila before dropping. She had stopped struggling. “I understand. Sorry, Camila.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Camila said, taking the book back from Ned. “Neither do you, Fila. Your instincts were right; I wanted more from Ned. I’ve been pretty clear about that.” She met Fila’s gaze directly. “You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t.” Fila stood her ground. “But I wanted him to be. Now he is.”

“Now I’m your fiancé, you mean.” Ned took her hand, his grip telling her the distinction was important to him.

“You should have said something,” Camila told her.

“You’re right, I should have.”

Camila pursed her lips, her normal animation gone. “I just want to fit in here. I want friends—a boyfriend. I want to feel like I can make a home here. I guess that’s too much to ask.”

“You still have your restaurant.” Mia disengaged from Luke’s arms. “I’m sure that’s going to be a success.”

“No—it isn’t.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “My father found out that my uncle was loaning me money. He demanded that my uncle stop. My uncle doesn’t want to split the family, so he’s not sending any more. I don’t have enough—I can’t buy any ingredients. I can’t pay next month’s rent. I’m a complete failure.” As her tears spilled over, Mia rushed to comfort her. Fila saw Ned and Luke exchange a look and she knew what they were thinking—only moments ago the two women had nearly come to blows.

But that was before they’d understood each other. Knowing what she did now, Fila could put aside her animosity toward Camila, too. Camila wasn’t so brave after all—she was just another woman who was trying to make her way in the world. She stepped forward to hug her.

“I don’t want to break up this little lovefest,” Luke drawled, “but are we ever going to have lunch?”

As Ned stumped
over to the kitchen table and sat down, his heart was beating double-time in his chest. For a minute there he thought he had lost Fila. Camila had called him to check up on his missed appointment and suggested she come over right away to make up for it. Since there was no way for him to get to town without someone else’s aid—which would expose what he was up to—he said yes. He was already sick of television, sick of sitting still. He might as well have something to do.

He could tell something was bothering Camila right from the get-go, however. She’d come in, sat down on the edge of his bed, as far from him as she could get without falling off the side of it, and had taken far too long to find her place in the materials she used to teach him.

He’d waited as patiently as he could for her to spill the beans, but when she started in on the lesson, jabbing her finger at each grouping of letters she wanted him to try to decipher, he decided he’d had enough.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She kept her attention on the book she’d placed in the wide space between them.

“I’m not going to bite—you can move a little closer.”

“Why? It wouldn’t do me any good.”

He hadn’t understood her meaning at the time—not until Fila and Mia’s dramatic entry.

Camila had been interested in him all this time, and he hadn’t even noticed because his attention was squarely on Fila. He supposed he should be flattered, but all he felt was relief that Camila hadn’t inadvertently run his engagement right off the rails.

He felt bad for her—new in town, broke, her family dead set against her chosen profession. Families sure did find all kinds of ways to screw with each other.

Now he watched Fila move swiftly around the kitchen, assembling a meal with Mia’s help. She peppered Camila with questions and he realized that if he’d thought he’d found himself a quiet, meek wife, he was definitely mistaken. The way she’d issued orders to everyone about keeping his secret was startling, but gratifying. She’d made huge strides when it came to self-confidence.

She was finding her voice.

“Camila, can you
give Fila any hints about how to handle a constant flow of customers?” Mia asked when they were all seated. “She knows how to serve a meal to a large number of people if they’re all eating at once, but she doesn’t have restaurant experience—if it’s not too hard for you to talk about,” she rushed to add.

“It’s okay.” Camila seemed resigned. “It’s a matter of getting things prepped ahead of time so the final cooking takes as little time as possible. Depending on what you’re serving, the dish might be almost done except one last cooking stage. Or you might have all the ingredients chopped and ready, but not be able to assemble or cook the dish until the customer places their order. I could look over your menu items and talk it through with you after lunch.”

“That would be great.” Fila passed her a bowl of salad.

“Why don’t you two just join together?” Luke said, helping himself to three pieces of naan—another type of flatbread Fila liked to make. “You could serve Mexican-Afghan food.”

Mia dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “That’s an awesome idea! You should totally do that!”

Fila turned to Camila and saw the same trepidation she felt mirrored in the other woman’s eyes. Ned began to chuckle. “I don’t think either of these ladies could share a kitchen.”

“It’s still a good idea. Then you wouldn’t be competing for customers—you’d be sharing them,” Mia said.

“More hands make lighter work,” Luke said.

“You could each be in charge of your own menu items,” Mia added. “There are already two stoves—what if you added some more prep space and had two of everything—maybe you could split the kitchen.”

“Maybe,” Fila said slowly. She tried to think it through. Now that Camila wasn’t trying to impress her, she had decided she liked her a lot more. Could they work together? Did she want to? Camila certainly had a lot of experience she could learn from.

“I know!” Mia sat forward. “You can do a double test run tomorrow—both of you serve your dishes at the same time, working in the same kitchen. If it’s a success, you can move forward together. If you hate it—you’ll forget all about it.”

“That makes sense.” Fila turned to Camila. “What do you think?”