The Rancher Takes a Cook (14 page)

The snow definitely made things harder
around the ranch, and they were all relieved when it melted in a
couple of days. But a week later another storm hit, bringing with
it almost a foot of frozen precipitation that lasted for a week.
This pattern continued through the middle of February and Mr.
O’Brien said this was the most snow they’d experienced in at least
fifteen years.

Each evening, the cowpunchers would drag
themselves in for supper, exhausted from trudging through the snow
or mud, pulling cattle out of drifts, breaking through thick ice to
create water holes, and who knew what else. The men continued to
take turns staying in the line shack, rotating each Monday. Anna
was relieved neither Edward nor Jacob had been required to perform
this particular role yet. It still amazed her that even though
Jacob was part owner of the ranch, he worked side by side with the
cowpunchers and took orders from the foreman like any other hired
hand.

* * *

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Anna
set down the knife and potato she’d been peeling and focused her
attention on Jacob. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table all
morning, coffee untouched, with his brow furrowed and his mind
somewhere far away from the cozy kitchen they were in. She’d
studied him curiously at first but couldn’t stand the suspense any
longer.

Jacob’s brows rose at her question. “Why do
you think something’s wrong?”

Did he think she was that dense? His
innocence would have been endearing if she wasn’t so worried about
what was bothering him. “Because you’ve been sitting there for
twenty minutes stewing over something. Are more cattle
missing?”

He shook his head. “It’s too hard to tell
with the snow and all the cattle taking shelter. I know we’ve lost
a few from the weather, but we haven’t seen any more sign of
rustlers. We won’t be able to get a good head count until spring
round-up and branding.”

“So…” Anna prompted.

“So, what?”

Anna let out an exasperated sigh. “So are
you gonna tell me what you’ve been stewing about?”

Jacob breathed his own sigh. “I’ve been
stewing
because I’m headed to the line shack today.”

Anna dropped her knife on the counter with a
clatter. “You?”

“Yep, I was just thinkin’ how I’m gonna have
to make my own coffee in the mornings.” His blue eyes turned to her
with the hint of a twinkle.

Heat rose to her cheeks, but then the full
meaning of his words began to sink in. Jacob would be gone for a
week? No early morning time with him all to herself, drinking
coffee and talking while she cooked breakfast. No more sitting next
to him at the dinner table. She had come to enjoy and depend on his
presence. He was a good friend, but it was something more than
friendship. But, how much more? He hadn’t touched her since that
kiss by the river on Christmas Day. Had she dreamed the whole
wonderful event?

“Are you gonna miss me?”

At Jacob’s words, the heat rushed past
Anna’s neck and flamed in her cheeks. She dipped her chin and
focused on peeling the potato in her hand.

Jacob released a husky chuckle, and his
figure loomed in the corner of her vision as he rose from his chair
and moved to stand next to her. Furiously peeling the poor potato,
Anna didn’t dare look up or even breathe. Her insides were too
jumbled with him standing so close.

After what must have been an eternity with
Jacob standing near, Anna’s nerves were stretched tighter than a
banjo string, and her hands flew around the tiny nub that was left
of the potato. He finally reached out and placed his large
work-roughened hand over both of hers, stilling them instantly. She
chanced a cautious peek at his face and froze at the intensity in
those deep blue eyes. She was putty in his hands as Jacob extracted
the knife from her grip and turned Anna to face him.

“You haven’t answered my question.” His deep
voice broke through the fog swirling in Anna’s brain. “Are you
going to miss me?” He reached out a hand to cup Anna’s cheek.
“Because I know I’ll miss you.”

Anna’s stomach was a ball of nerves. “Is it
me you’re going to miss or my coffee and food?”

Jacob took a step toward her, eliminating
all but a few inches of distance between them. “You. I’ll
definitely be missin’ you.” He moved his hands to Anna’s shoulders,
trailing them down her arms to rest on her elbows. Her skin tingled
everywhere his fingers grazed. He pulled her to him, and her
eyelids fluttered closed as his lips came down to touch her own.
His kiss was sweet and yet his mouth melded to hers with an
intensity she had only dreamed about. Anna’s heart responded in
kind as her hands reached out to caress him, one coming to rest on
his heart and the other stretching around his neck to tug him
closer. Closer. She couldn’t get enough of this man she had come
to—

“Uhh-hmm…”

A throat cleared in the doorway. Anna jumped
back. Her face was surely the color of the chili peppers she had
set out to use for dinner that night. Monty stood in the doorway,
grinning like a cat with a cornered mouse.

“What do you need?” Jacob’s voice was low,
almost a growl.

Monty didn’t seem fazed by his less than
enthusiastic welcome. “Sorry to interrupt.” He sauntered into the
room, hands in his pockets. “I needed to fill you in on a couple of
things before you head to the shack today.”

Jacob sighed and ran a hand through his
curly brown locks. “All right, have a seat.” He motioned toward the
chair then turned to Anna with an apologetic look.

She could barely meet his gaze, heat still
searing her cheeks. As Jacob sat down across from Monty at the
kitchen table, Anna set a second cup in front of Monty and poured
steaming coffee into both mugs. She kept her head down, trying to
be as invisible as possible.

While the men talked about supplies, cattle,
and grazing areas, Anna forced her attention onto finishing
breakfast. As she sliced potatoes into the skillet, the heat
flooded her chest again from their kiss. Was it love she felt for
this man? Or just a strong attraction? Who couldn’t be attracted to
such a tall, muscled cowboy with gorgeous blue eyes set in a
perfectly proportioned face? But her feelings ran deeper than
attraction. She respected his wisdom and deep faith, and over the
months of coffee and conversation, she’d come to value his
friendship. In fact, she was as close to Jacob as she was to her
own brother. These were definitely the right ingredients for
love.

* * *

Jacob heaved the ax over his shoulder and
brought it down hard on the ice in the creek.
Crack
! A layer
of the frozen stuff splintered, leaving another solid sheet
underneath. He raised the ax back over his shoulder, welcoming the
groan of his muscles at the effort. After five long days and nights
staying in the line shack, he was glad for anything to distract his
mind from the thoughts and images of Anna that had lodged
themselves in his brain.
Crack
! This time he broke through
the last layer of ice, and water poured into the frozen hole.

The lowing of the cattle behind him grew
stronger as they smelled the water and charged forward. He grabbed
the ax and jumped out of the way as horns clattered and animals
vied for position in front of the small water hole. Standing off to
the side, Jacob wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the
back of an arm then repositioned his hat. Even in the freezing
cold, he’d worked up a sweat. Glancing up at the grey sky, he tried
to gauge how low the clouds were. Texas storms could be harder to
predict than a bronco’s next buck, but if he didn’t miss his guess,
they were in for more snow.

And he was right. Snow fell for two days
solid, covering everything in sight and making it almost impossible
to leave the shack. They had built a stall onto one side for a
horse with a door in between so he could feed and water Marshall
without having to traipse out in the snow. With almost four feet of
the white stuff, the animals couldn’t move around much and were
likely to stay holed up in the trees.

Jacob stayed in the little building,
thankful he’d brought extra supplies with him. He’d never had a
problem with eating beans and cornbread at every meal, but after
Anna’s food for the last few months, it was hard to stomach the
gritty stuff day after day. If it hadn’t been for his Bible and a
few other books they kept in the shack, Jacob might have gone mad
from being left alone with all his thoughts.

Finally, four days after the snow began, the
sun came out and temperatures started to rise a bit. As Jacob
saddled Marshall, the gelding stomped impatiently. “I know it, boy.
I’m ready to get out of here, too.” He patted the horse’s shoulder
before reaching to tie his bedroll and slicker behind the seat of
the saddle.

Marshall had been with him since the horse
was a two-year-old. Most cowboys left the horse breaking to the
ranch wrangler, but Jacob had always preferred to train his riding
horses himself, building a bond with the animal and preparing them
thoroughly for any situation. Marshall’s intelligence was evident
right away, and Jacob worked with the horse each day. First,
teaching him to lead and tie, then getting him used to all kinds of
noises and scary objects, including gunshots and barking dogs.
Eventually, he trained the horse to ride, rope, and out-think even
the most ornery longhorn. Jacob still rotated his riding horse
daily to give each of them a rest, but Marshall was by far his
favorite.

After a long day pulling out cattle from
snow drifts and breaking layers of ice, Jacob was more than
relieved to turn Marshall toward the ranch house. It was Bo’s turn
to stay at the line shack, and Jacob was plenty happy to pass the
torch. He couldn’t wait to fill his stomach with something warm and
tasty, anything but beans and cornbread. And he would see Anna. In
the flesh, although he’d seen her in his mind’s eye every night as
he lay on the cot in the shack, trying in vain to sleep.

A faint breeze ruffled his hair and Jacob
caught a whiff of stale body odor. Ducking his head for another
sniff, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He smelled worse than a pig
after a rainstorm. There was no way he could show up at supper
looking and smelling as rank as he did, but there wasn’t enough
time for a bath. He’d have to settle for a wipe down and a change
of clothes. Jacob ran a hand over his face, the coarse hairs way
beyond stubble by this point. A little overgrowth on his face had
never bothered him before.

* * *

Anna stared at the doorway from her seat at
the far end of the table as the men around the room dove into their
Irish stew and yeast rolls. Monty had said Jacob came back tonight
with the men, but he hadn’t shown up for supper yet. Should she be
worried? But maybe he was just tired and went to bed early. Should
she send up a tray for him?

As she glanced toward the door again, Monty
caught her eye with a reassuring grin. “He’ll be here soon,
Senorita. He’s probably just cleaning up a bit. Smelled like a
scared skunk by the time we finished today.”

She wasn’t too pleased with his comparing
Jacob to a skunk, but before she could set the man straight, Jacob
appeared in the doorway. He looked
wonderful
and
whole
…if a little haggard. His deep blue eyes met Anna’s as
he moved around the table to sit in his usual chair at the end,
right next to her. She gave him a shy smile, the butterflies in her
stomach doing double-time at his sudden nearness.

“Welcome home,” she whispered, hoping the
others couldn’t hear or wouldn’t notice. Jacob flashed one of his
brilliant smiles at her, the kind that made her heart miss a
beat.

“Jacob! Glad you made it home, son.” Mr.
O’Brien’s greeting boomed across the table, stealing Jacob’s
attention. While he answered the questions that flew at him from
around the table, Anna busied herself filling Jacob’s bowl with
stew and passing the yeast rolls and apple butter.

“How many head do ya think we lost in that
last storm, boss?”

“Did the creek freeze through or could ya
hack a bit o’ water out of it?”

“Sure was a cold one this time. One of them
newspaper men from town said it got down to ten degrees one night
last week.”

When Anna placed the bowl of hot stew in
front of him, Jacob shot her a smile full of gratitude, then dug in
as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, which was probably not far from the
truth. At least not a decent meal. His large frame bent over the
bowl while he ate, but the men kept volleying questions like
snowballs. He shrugged, nodded, or shook his head to most of the
inquiries, and gave one- or two-word answers to those that required
them.

When the cowhands had eaten their fill,
including almost four whole peach and apple pies, they stood and
ambled out of the room, heading in the general direction of the
bunkhouse. Anna, too, rose and stacked dishes in preparation for
clearing the table. Jacob was one of the last to stand, and her
heart picked up a bit of speed. Was he waiting to spend a quiet
moment with her? As she made her way around the table with a stack
of plates, Mr. O’Brien strode toward his son and clapped him on the
shoulder.

“Well, boy, glad you could make it back for
your birthday. It would have been awfully lonely for all of us to
have you spend it out at the line shack.”

Anna’s head jerked up. Her eyes zeroed in on
both men, trying to gauge if she’d heard correctly. Was today
Jacob’s birthday? Why had no one told her? She would have made a
cake and maybe even bought him a gift. But a gift would have been
too forward. Wouldn’t it? At least she would have liked to know
about it. Now it was after dark and much too late to do anything
special to celebrate.

As the dining room emptied, Anna’s mind
whirled. She gathered a stack of dirty plates and proceeded toward
the kitchen, lowering them into the clean water she’d brought in
before supper for the washing. She turned to head back toward the
dining hall for another stack of dishes. But as she stepped through
the doorway, she ran squarely into Jacob who was balancing a rather
precarious stack of bowls. He shifted the dishes in an effort to
free his left hand to catch Anna but only succeeded in tilting the
stack further toward the right.