The Rancher Takes a Cook (5 page)

Aunt Lola charged into the room with wave of
her hand. “C’mon Anna-girl. The men are washing up, so let’s get
this food on the table.”

Anna forced down the knot in her stomach.
She was about to meet the cowboys for whom she would be cooking.
What sort of men would they be? She grabbed the handles on the pot
with her apron and carried it to the dining room table, shuffling
so as not to spill. The cowboys filed in, nodded, and sauntered
around the table to stand behind their chairs, each man holding his
hat in his hands. Anna sneaked glances at the four trail-worn men
standing around the table. They ranged in height and age, but all
had rich black hair and mustaches, with darkly tanned skin. Mr.
O’Brien and Edward hadn’t come in yet, and she wasn’t sure what to
do with herself now that the food was set out, so Anna stood by the
doorway to the kitchen.

Aunt Lola poured the last cup of coffee and
looked up. Awkward silence filled the room. A smirk quirked her
lips. “Lads, I’d like ya to meet Miss Stewart. She’ll be cookin’
for ya from here on, and if this stew is any sign, she has a real
talent in the kitchen.”

A chorus of “Si” and “Welcome, Senorita”
echoed from the men just as Mr. O’Brien and Edward appeared in the
threshold. After Mr. O’Brien introduced her brother, he motioned
for them to be seated. “I’ll tell you new folks who these
cowpunchers are after we let ’em start eating. It’s hard to hold
’em back from the grub for niceties.” The grin he shared confirmed
his teasing.

When they were all seated, the group bowed
their heads in unison as Mr. O’Brien spoke a prayer of thanksgiving
in his deep baritone voice. Anna peeked at the Mexican cowboys. She
imagined cowboys as rough men who had no manners and little respect
for God or the law. These men looked the part, but their earnest
expressions during the prayer didn’t fit her expectations.

At Mr. O’Brien’s “Amen, ” hands flew
everywhere—grabbing biscuits, passing plates, and spooning soup. As
soon as the food hit the men’s plates, however, it disappeared into
their open mouths. For a few minutes, Anna could only stare. They
ate almost like savages.

A hand touched Anna’s arm. Aunt Lola winked.
Heat crawled up Anna’s neck and she dropped her gaze to her bowl.
It was empty. She’d better get some food before the men ate it all.
There would likely be no leftovers.

As the vigorous pace of eating finally
slowed, Mr. O’Brien leaned back in his chair and spoke up. “Well
now, let me introduce my boys to you both. This here’s Monty
Dominguez, our foreman. He’s been with me since he was old enough
to toss a rope, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend or foreman.
Next to him is Bo, Monty’s little brother. Monty finally talked him
into comin’ over from Mexico a couple years back, and we keep him
around to make sure Monty stays out o’ trouble.” A snort issued
from Monty as Bo elbowed him in the side. A grin split the younger
man’s handsome face.

Mr. O’Brien continued, “And down at the end
are Miguel and Donato, Monty’s cousins. You’ll find most of the cow
hands on the Double Rocking B are related to Monty somehow or
another. We’ve decided they’re a pretty good family with a healthy
dose of cow sense. Besides, it’s easier for Monty to keep ’em in
line if they’re related to him.” A round of guffaws and elbow pokes
erupted as the men heckled each other. Anna glanced in Edward’s
direction. A wide grin spread across his youthful face.

After supper was complete and all the dishes
washed and put away, Anna followed Aunt Lola into the den for the
evening Bible reading. Mr. O’Brien had invited Edward and her to
join them for the devotions, after which he’d challenged Edward to
a checker match. Her brother had loved the game since he was a
young boy and was always looking for a new partner with whom to
hone his skills.

The den was a comfortable, homey room with a
large fireplace and rustic wood planks covering the walls and
flooring. Over the fireplace hung a large painting of a man, woman,
and small boy, set in an elaborately carved mahogany wood frame.
The man was a much younger version of Mr. O’Brien, with the same
dark blue eyes he and his cousin both shared. The blonde woman by
his side was lovely, with a joy that seemed to radiate from her as
she hugged the young boy. The eyes of both the woman and the lad
were also blue but were a lighter sky blue whose crystal clarity
might have been a little creative liberty from the artist. Was it
possible for real people to have eyes that striking? Altogether,
the little family reflected a love that tightened Anna’s chest and
sent a familiar burning sensation to her eyes.

“Marty had that portrait painted not long
after they finished building the main house.” Aunt Lola’s voice
broke into her thoughts. She’d been caught staring.

She opened her mouth to respond but was
interrupted by Mr. O’Brien’s booming voice as Edward followed him
into the room. They all settled into chairs around the hearth, even
though the weather was too warm for a fire. Mr. O’Brien filled
every inch of a large wing-back chair as he sat with the Bible in
his lap and spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. Aunt
Lola, beside him in a worn rocking chair, picked up a bundle of
yellow yarn from the basket at her side and began crocheting tiny
stitches. Anna and Edward lounged on a strait-back sofa across from
them.

As Mr. O’Brien read Jesus’ Sermon on the
Mount from the book of Matthew, Anna’s eyes drifted around the room
and rested on an empty wing-back chair beside her between the sofa
and the fireplace. Whose chair was that? Probably an extra for
guests.

While Mr. O’Brien continued his reading, the
sun disappeared into darkness, cloaking the room in a cozy
atmosphere like a warm blanket on a cold night. Anna released a
long breath, allowing her fears to slip away. It was more peaceful
out here on the ranch than any place she had been. Like she was
closer to her heavenly Father—as if she could reach out and touch
Him.
Thank you, Lord.

* * *

As the morning sky lightened into pinks and
oranges the next day, Anna furiously whipped hotcake batter. She’d
urged Aunt Lola to sleep late today, figuring the woman hadn’t had
a chance to do so in many years if she cooked for the men each
morning. The cowboys would show up any second ready to scarf down a
stack of hotcakes, and she only had one plate piled high for the
men. It was definitely more challenging to time the food right when
you were feeding eight hungry mouths instead of just Papa and
Edward. She’d get better at this, though. That was for sure.

While the last skillet of hotcakes finished
sizzling on the stovetop, Anna carried a plate piled with bacon and
a large pot of coffee into the dining hall. Mr. O’Brien greeted her
from the doorway, his brown hair slicked down and his moustache
still damp. “G’morning, Miss Stewart. It smells better than a candy
store in here.” The resident twinkle in his eye reminded her of
Papa. “The rest of the cowboys should be back from the cattle drive
any day now, if they didn’t get held up anywhere, so I guess I’d
better eat my fill now while I can still get some.”

Anna’s head jerked up from the coffee she
poured. “The rest of the cowboys, sir?”

“Yep, my son, Jacob, and ten other cowboys
are on the cattle drive, taking our stock to market in Kansas.
That’s the closest market town with a railroad stop, so we get much
better money for ’em there. It took about a month to drive the cows
and make it back last year, and they’ve already been gone longer
than that on this trip. I’m sure Jacob has things well in hand,
though.” The fatherly pride on the man’s face sent a pang to Anna’s
heart. Her father used to look at her with that same
expression.

Later that morning, Anna finished wiping
down the work counter in the kitchen and glanced around before
hanging her towel on a peg. The stove top glistened and the pans
were all hung on their hooks. She’d swept and scoured the floors in
both the kitchen and dining room until they shone. Possessiveness
warmed Anna’s insides. This was
her
kitchen now. Her own
domain to concoct tasty dishes and desserts that would make the
cowboys’ mouths water. She’d always loved the response when people
enjoyed her cooking, but it would be so much better now that she
was able to craft the delicious meals in her own kitchen.

Anna let out a contented sigh and went in
search of Aunt Lola. The men had taken packed lunches with them for
the day, and supper preparations wouldn’t begin until early
afternoon. Maybe there was something else she could help with?

Anna found her in Mr. O’Brien’s office
dusting the shelves and was rewarded with a warm smile. “And how
are things, my dear? Thank ye so much for my morning break today.
I’m afraid me old bones wouldn’t allow for much sleepin’ in, but I
spent a glorious morning with my Heavenly Father and that was the
best gift of all.”

Anna returned her smile. “I’m glad you
enjoyed yourself. The kitchen is clean for now, so I’ve come to see
how I can help you in the house. Should I make the beds or sweep
anywhere?”

“Nay, there’s nothing needs doing that can’t
wait a while. Why don’t you take some time for yourself and look
around a bit. A pretty young thing like you needs to get outside
and stretch your legs. Now get on with ya.” Aunt Lola made a
shooing motion with her hand.

Anna bit the corner of her lip. “Are you
sure I can’t help you with anything?” She’d been hired to work, not
enjoy the sights.

“If I let you do it all, there won’t be work
left for me, and me old bones will get lazy.” With that, the woman
turned back to the bookshelves and Anna had the distinct impression
she’d been dismissed.

Despite her guilt over not helping with
housework, Anna was excited to explore the place. Edward had been
assigned barn chores that morning. Anna had not even been out to
gather eggs or milk the cow, and she was eager to see what manner
of animals lived on a cattle ranch.

Anna stepped off the porch, tilted her head
back, and soaked in the warm late-summer sun. It wasn’t quite as
scorching as it had been during August when they’d first arrived in
Seguin and was a welcome relief after having been in the house for
so long.

She strolled toward the corrals near the
barn. Half a dozen horses milled around in the larger pen, but one
mare’s unusual color caught her eye. The horse’s body was a mixture
of white and black hairs that didn’t form a pattern until they
reached her rump, which was white with black spots, each about the
size of Anna’s fist. The mare’s face also had a patch of white that
splashed over both blue eyes. The horse was striking and unlike any
of the solid or paint horses she’d seen before.

Approaching the corral fence, Anna held a
hand through the rail and called, “C’mere, girl.” She didn’t really
expect the horse to come, but the animal ambled over with a bored
expression. “Hey there pretty girl. How ya doin’?” Anna crooned as
she stroked the horse’s neck then reached up to scratch the
universal favorite spot behind her ears. The mare sniffled a soft
nicker and leaned forward to blow in Anna’s face. A giddy warmth
flowed through her. It was so good to be around animals again.

* * *

That evening, Anna sat at the dinner table,
pleasure warming her as the men dove into the food she’d prepared.
Shepherd’s Pie was an easy meal to cook but usually a hit with the
recipients. For dessert, she would surprise them with fresh
blackberry pies made from the berries she’d found in the pasture
behind the house.

“Senorita Stewart, you sure do know your way
around la cocina,” Donato declared, admiration in his voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. O’Brien agreed. “I haven’t
tasted mashed potatoes this creamy since I traveled back east
before the War. You southern gals sure do know how to satisfy a
man’s belly.”

Anna’s face heated, but she managed to
mumble, “Thank you,” before dipping her head to focus on the food
on her own plate.

As the conversation turned to horses and
cattle, Anna released a breath. The men discussed rotating the
horse string kept near the barn for daily use, and the seed of an
idea planted itself in her mind.

When the next lull broke the conversation,
she spoke. “Mr. O’Brien, would you, by chance, have an extra horse
available that I could ride on occasion? Only when I have an extra
few minutes between chores.”

She shouldn’t have asked. What would the man
think of her loitering around during broad daylight when she should
be working? After all, he was paying her to cook and clean, not go
on joyrides across the countryside.

Before she could retract her words, though,
he spoke. “By all means. Take Bandita, the Appaloosa mare in the
corral. She’s a good ride and will take care of you.”

Anna’s heart leaped at the possibility. “Is
she the mare with the black spots on her hindquarters and the white
mask across her eyes?”

“The very one. Horses with the spotted color
pattern are called Appaloosas after the Palouse Indians that bred
them. You won’t find a hardier breed around, nor one that can run
faster.”

Anna couldn’t hold back the grin that begged
for release. She planned to test that last fact.

The next few weeks flew by as Anna developed
her routine. Each day began in the barn, milking the Jersey cow,
Stella, and gathering eggs from the chickens, then back to the
kitchen to begin breakfast preparations. After the meal, the men
filed out to hit the saddle, leaving Anna and Aunt Lola to a silent
house. The only exception to the routine was Sundays, when the
entire crew donned a fresh set of clothes and headed toward the
little white church on the outskirts of town.

Anna’s favorite time was the late mornings
after the men left for the day and the kitchen was quiet. Aunt Lola
usually cleaned upstairs, and Anna could talk to God while she
worked. For some reason, speaking aloud drew her closer to her
Heavenly Father.