Chief Cook and Bottle Washer Read online

  Not flirting, just being friendly, Deke reasoned. So why did he have such a jackass grin on his face? She was the same woman who'd knocked his headlight out on his truck months ago. The same woman that set his loins afire every time he thought about her perfectly formed breast peeking from beneath a wet t-shirt. "2l and up for grabs", dangled in his mind. Naturally at the time, his mind shouldn't have been on her anatomy, but some things went beyond a man's control.

  Pretty, unmarried girls were hard to come by these days in Devil's Corner. Whether she was married remained a mystery.

  That thought gave Deke a spark of an idea. Why hadn't it occurred to him before? His dad had teased them about it, over the years, but no one had taken him seriously. No one listened. Till now. Deke wrestled with the notion for a minute, deciding he'd hit on something. Something big.

  Things never happened on their own, Deke decided that long ago when his brothers started wandering away from the ranch every summer. You had to give them a little push. Sometimes you had to make things happen. What better way to make things happen than a romance.

  But first he needed some information, and the information highway of Devil's Corner was on her way over to his booth now. Bertha Martin, owner of the Lone Star Cafe was a big beautiful woman with a heart the size of Texas on her sleeve. She swallowed Deke with her big green eyes and welcoming smile. Tossing her salt and pepper curls away from her eyes, she headed straight towards him.

  Deke glanced through the dusty plate-glass windows, as he picked a tact to follow with Bertha.

  He stared out the window for a second. Dust blew down the main street like a silent ghost. You could almost hear the wind through the glass whistling. It sent a chill through him, and he knew the reason. It reminded him of the loneliness he faced every day out on the ranch.

  He dashed those thoughts. This time giving the small town the once over. Devil's Corner wasn't even a town, officially. Just a community. Didn't have a mayor, a sheriff or a jail. Didn't need one. It was too small, and everyone knew everyone else's business, anyway. Especially Bertha. No secrets here, no strangers, and no crime rate.

  No, he corrected himself, there was one stranger.

  "Deke, did ya bring Cal into town with ya?"

  Taking her pencil out from behind her ear, she placed a hand on the booth and perched a generous hip against the seat behind him.

  "Yeah, he's over at the Feed & Grain. We're all here to pick up supplies."

  The clatter of dishes being gathered distracted Bertha for a moment, then she turned her smile on Deke again.

  "He'll be in directly. So what's new Bertha?" Deke tried not to blurt out his curiosity too quickly. Anyone with a lick of horse sense knew you had to go through a few friendly formalities before you started asking any real questions. It was only polite.

  "Not much, Deke. Jonesy sold out and moved to Dallas with his kids."

  "Figured that would happen."

  "Talbot got elected deputy sheriff over at Sweetwater."

  "I'll be damned. Don't tell Jake about it, he had his eye on that job too, you know."

  "He should have gone after it. Jake would have beat Talbot any day."

  Deke nodded a slight frown lining his sun-tanned face. "Jake's needed elsewhere, right now. But he'll get his day, I'll see to that. As soon as I get those other two settled down."

  "Having a time keeping them tied down to the ranch Deke? Well, you know the saying, 'some was born to ranch, others weren't'."

  "Don't tell my two youngest brothers that."

  "I guess you done seen, I hired a new cook." Bertha nodded toward the kitchen.

  "I got a glimpse. Who is she?" He wasn't about to tell Bertha he'd been staring at her backside for ten minutes or longer this morning.

  "Her name's Emma Smith."

  Deke's rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Surely that wasn't her real name. Bertha would swallow anything.

  "Oh I know what you're thinking, it don't sound too original does it. But that's her name. Saw it on her driver's license when you sent the Sheriff out."

  "Sorry 'bout that Bertha. I just thought it odd, you selling that truck after all these years."

  "Gotta let go sometime, Deke. It's way past that time, you know."

  "I guess."

  "Anyway, she stayed with me about a month. Seems she gave you all of her first paycheck, to pay the damages on your truck."

  Deke swallowed hard. He never meant to put a hardship on the little lady.

  "I had no idea Bertha. I wish I could figure a way to make it up to her."

  "She's as survivor. Anyway, she moved into the old Gilmore place. She's a sweet little thing. Do almost anything to repay me. Told her it wasn't necessary. She keeps to herself these days. Kinda mysterious little thing, but polite as all get out. She got off the bus a couple of months back and had no where to go. Kinda stranded I guess. Looked a might desperate so I gave her a job and a place to stay."

  "What would a gal like that want with an old beat up truck?"

  "Said she's got business in Sweetwater and she don't want to stand out on the highway waitin' on a bus."

  "Business in Sweetwater?"

  "Yeah, somethin' about a lawyer . . . I didn't pry."

  "A lawyer. Divorce, maybe?"

  "I don't know."

  "So what happened to Andy?" Deke settled back in his seat.

  "Andy took off again."

  Deke glanced through the hole again, but couldn't see her. "What's her story? I mean, people don't just suddenly show up in Devil's Corner. This ain't Sweetwater or Abilene."

  "That's true enough but she don't offer much information. Kinda quiet. Nervous little thing too."

  "Nervous?" Deke found himself asking, curiosity aroused.

  "Bites her nails right down to the quick. Always lookin' over her shoulder. I'd bet she's running away from something or somebody."

  Deke's jaw tightened, seeing her as a possible abused person, or running away from a bad marriage. Poor kid. The thought of Emma Smith being abused didn't set well with him, but he pushed it from his mind. The way she'd thrown that money at him, shocked him. He hadn't expected her to do a fool thing like that. He'd picked it up, took it home and put it in a jar and never gave it another thought, till now. "So what happened to Andy?" His eyes drifted back to the kitchen. Darn it all, he couldn't keep his eyes off Emma.

  Bertha chuckled. "Got the hots for some little filly over in Abilene. Same old story. Took off after her. He'll be back, though. Always comes back with his tail between his legs. Trouble is, I ain't sure I wanna hire Andy back. I mean, Emma is the best cook I've ever had. You should try the chicken fried steak, and her gravy is better than mine. Must've been born in a kitchen."

  "Emma?" Deke rolled the name off his tongue as though he could taste it. Damn, it was just a name, but he liked it.

  "You interested, Deke?"

  "Not me. I've got enough to ride herd on. What with Cal smoking all the time, and Rusty jumping every man who even looks at his girl, and Clint with his broken heart and rodeos."

  "Too bad Clint didn't grab Abby."

  "Yeah, she probably wised up and took off."

  "She sure loved that boy."

  "Everybody knew it but Clint. Funny thing though, he's quit going over there so much any more."

  "Too bad. Heard she went to stay with some of her folks for a while. So you losin' Jake too?"

  "No, he's the only one I got to depend on. Makes me feel downright mean for holding him back from doing what he really wants to do. With his education he damned sure don't need to be herding cows. But you know as well as I do, it'd take a stick of dynamite to get him off the ranch when I need him so bad."

  Bertha nodded sympathetically. "You got your hands full, you and Jake. But you ain't gettin' any younger Deke. It's high time you were settlin' down with a brood of your own, if you ask me."

  "I didn't ask."

  "One of these days, Deke Travers, you're gonna be so knee deep in love you won't know wh
at hit you."

  When Deke refused to acknowledge her keen insight, she took out her pad. "You wanna order now, or wait on the rest of 'em."

  "I'll wait."

  "Suit yourself. Oh hey, Steve's back, better keep an eye on Clint." Bertha turned away.

  Deke's frown clouded his face. "You could have spent the rest of the day not telling me that, Bertha."

  "Sorry, thought you'd wanna know."

  "Thanks, and you could bring me a tall glass of tea, and some lemon."

  Bertha shot a smile at him over her shoulder, "You handsome blue eyed devil, if I was ten years younger, I'd be makin' a play for you myself. You Travers boys are too good lookin' for your own good. Every one of ya, even ole Cal."

  Deke grinned and relaxed, leaning his head against the back of the booth, he closed his eyes. Steve Brewer was not good news. Same age as Clint, he usually spent the better part of

  summer trying to talk Clint into women, whiskey and rodeos. And not in that order.

  Deke cast a quick glance toward the kitchen again. It had been a long time since a woman interested him enough to take a second look. But Emma Smith, if that was her real name, was a

  stranger, and Deke was simply curious as the next fella. He knew he didn't have time for a woman. The only thing he had time for was sweat-drooling, back-breaking work, and corralling the rest of the Travers bunch. But his brothers needed settling down, and he knew one sure way to do it.

  He needed to find out if the new cook was married, divorced, widowed or single. What had brought her to this one-horse town, anyway? And why did she need a lawyer? She didn't look the criminal type. No, he'd bet his last dime she wasn't a criminal, more a victim than a criminal.

  He was knee deep in jumping to a few conclusions on his own when he heard the door bang open and knew his brothers and father had arrived. No one entered a room like the Travers boys.

  With a round of howdy's they clamored loudly over to the corner booth and crowded in. Shoulder to shoulder with Jake, Deke eyed his two wayward brothers with a knowing look.

  "Get everything loaded?"

  "All set," they chorused.

  "What are we gonna do about a housekeeper and cook?" Clint asked staring directly at Deke for an answer.

  "I guess we'll have to put an ad in the Sweetwater paper," Deke said glumly. "I'll give 'em a call when we get back to the ranch."

  His eyes traveled to the kitchen again, but he didn't say anything. Not yet.

  "Boy when everybody found out ole Dill ran off with Mattie, they hooted," Rusty was saying. "Some figured it out. I guess we're just slow."

  "Or blind," Jake added with a slight smile.

  "Yeah, only I'm not laughing," Deke added roughly. "In case you rounders don't know it, they put us in a hellova bind."

  Cal leaned forward. "I've been thinking on that son. If Clint stays home this summer, he can handle it. He's better than Dill and that's saying something. But we can't do without a cook. Not for our bunch."

  "Well I can't promise–" Clint began.

  Deke figured Clint would object. He considered his dad's statement and smiled.

  "Not a bad idea, dad, but where do you suggest we start looking for such a 'miracle worker'?" Jake tackled the menu as though he meant to order everything on it. "I mean we're a little on the spoiled side, Mattie had been with us for over ten years. She knew how each of us liked our steaks and eggs."

  "That's a fact."

  "It could take a while. What are we gonna do in the meantime?" Clint asked, his brow furrowing.

  "Oh I don't know, maybe we could let Dad do the light housekeeping and you do the cooking. Since you're so good over a camp-fire." Deke injected his smile broadening.

  "Aw now, I ain't gonna cook. I knew this was coming. Sure I can slap a steak over a fire, and heat biscuits, but cook for our small army, forget it. We gotta find somebody and quick. I'm no dough boy."

  "Somebody for what?" Bertha asked as she came toward them with a big smile aimed directly at Cal. Deke watched his father's face light up, knowing the mutual losses they suffered had brought them together. Cal liked Bertha and everybody knew it, but their romance so to speak wasn't going anywhere. What was wrong with the Travers men, none of them had a relationship going except Rusty. And that was on the skids half the time.

  "We need a housekeeper and cook, Bertha. Know anyone lookin' for work?" Jake asked innocently.

  "I heard about Dill and Mattie. It's about time. They been flirtin' with each other for years. I guess that sorta leaves you fellas high and dry though, don't it?" Bertha scratched her chin with the end of her pencil.

  Just then the door shimmied open and in walked a bedraggled Andy Thomas. He slapped his hat on his knee to get rid of the dust. Bertha turned and waved, then nodded at Deke, "See, I told you he'd be back. And from the looks of it, he didn't fare too well with that little gal. Now he's come a grovelin'."

  Deke's brow shot upward. "What ya gonna do Bertha?"

  "Don't know. I can't just oust the poor little thing. But the truth is, Andy's been with me a long time. I sorta feel responsibile for him too."

  "What are you talkin' about Bertha?" Cal asked as though confused by the entire conversation.

  "Yeah, what are you talkin' about?" Clint chimed as everyone stared at her as though she'd grown two heads.

  Deke pushed Jake out of his seat and scooted out of the booth. He glanced from Andy, then toward the kitchen. He had an idea. He really wasn't sure about this Emma Smith, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, gut instincts told him he owed her one. "Don't fret Bertha. Come with me, I think I can straighten this whole thing out to our mutual benefit."

  "Straighten out what?" Cal asked.

  "What's goin' on? What mutual benefit?" Rusty hollered.

  Bertha waved them down. "Don't know, but Deke's got a better head on his shoulders than any of you other cowpokes."

  The brothers stared at each other, their mouths hanging open. Cal shrugged.

  Deke went directly over to Andy. "Andy, heard you left town."

  "Yeah, I knew I'd be back though, and so did Bertha, didn't ya?" Andy's voice rose a notch, and a light sweat peppered his brow.

  "Sure, I knew. But I done hired me a cook Andy."

  "Done hired a cook? But you knew I'd be back." Andy twirled his hat in his hands nervously. "Aw man, now what am I gonna do? I don't know anything but slingin' hash, Bertha, you know that."

  Deke put a hand on Bertha's shoulder, and one on Andy's. "Looks like we got a problem. But I gotta hunch I can solve this to everyone's satisfaction. Let's go in the kitchen and see if we can straighten this out."

  The brothers watched them stroll toward the kitchen.

  "What's Deke up to?"

  "Damned if I know."

  Deke pushed open the swinging doors of the kitchen. Fresh baked pies, hamburgers sizzling on the grill, only added to Deke's hunger. Putting aside the fact that he was nearly starved, he approached Emma with a smile and a nod.

  But it wasn't the food that made Deke heat up like a branding iron, as his eyes slowly slid over Emma, to just below the waist. Seeing her in broad daylight had done much more than peaked his interest. For the first time in a long time his body reacted. Not that her dirty white apron, nor her baggy jeans and T-shirt gave away any secrets to her slim little figure, but it merely hinted of a woman that couldn't be hid. And Emma had an outstanding backside. Yes sir, outstanding, Deke cleared his throat and raised his glance back to the warmth of her gaze as she turned around. Too red dots decorated her cheeks. Those red dots indicated the woman had character and values. He liked Emma Smith.

  The scuff on her boots belied the fact that she wasn't some city slicker. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. He had to choose his words, so as not to offend. Emma looked anything but happy that a crowd had suddenly gathered in her kitchen. He doubted from her expression that she recognized him. Although he couldn't understand why his voice hadn't given him away unless the storm
had detracted from that, too.

  Deke wondered if Clint would be attracted to her, if he'd thank him later. Young enough, pretty enough, and to top it off Emma could cook. He couldn't lose with this deal.

  Deke eyed her more closely. Small and delicate, yet sturdy too, he decided quickly. Something about that stubborn set chin of hers told him she was from a healthy stock. A heart-shaped face stared up at him as he came to stand only inches from her.

  He towered over her, but she didn't shrink. If anything, she bowed up a little more. A woman with spirit.

  She continued to slap hamburgers on the grill as she watched Deke from the corner of her eye. She was a suspicious little creature.

  "Emma," he tipped his hat at her as she turned to stare and looked directly into eyes that made his heart trip a little faster. Those eyes could glue a man to the floor, make him forget what he was thinking. "I'm Deke Travers ma'am, and it seems we have a slight problem."

  "Oh?" Emma's brow shot upward as she backed away from the grill, a hot spatula in one hand, and a fresh sack of buns in the other. The expression on her face was serious, not smiling. Deke noted the death grip on the spatula. He watched as she laid the buns down, wiped her hands on her apron and glanced from one to the other. Obviously she was sizing him up too. She still didn't shrink. He liked that, too.

  "Yeah, you see, Andy here used to be the cook."

  Emma's eyes widened as Deke directed her attention to Andy, who stood a few feet away, a little slouched, a little guilty looking. Emma obviously sized Andy up too.

  "He's been here for a good ten years. He's the son, Bertha never had." Maybe he shouldn't pour it on so thick, Deke thought when he saw that frown appear on Emma's face. "He's probably not as good a cook as you, but he's family." It was the truth and it was thick as syrup.

  Bertha nodded.

  Emma tipped her nose a little higher and went back to the grill, flipped a hamburger with a vengeance then turned back to her audience. She folded her arms over her chest, still frowning at Deke. Still griping that spatula with a death grip. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened in her life to take things so seriously.