The Rancher Who Took Her In (The Bachelors of Blackwater Lake) Read online

  “It’s okay.” Ty ran after it.

  “Athletic? Really?” One of Cabot’s dark eyebrows rose questioningly. “You throw like a girl.”

  “At the risk of stating the obvious, I am a girl.”

  “Yeah. I noticed.”

  Nothing in his tone or expression gave away what he was thinking, but Kate remembered that Cabot had said she was pretty. It had been indirect, an answer to a question from someone else, but he’d agreed. That was something and she would take it. Her ego had recently taken a hit, even though it was stupid to care what Ted thought. If she’d been enough, he wouldn’t have been hitting on someone else on the day of their wedding.

  Ty ran back with the ball clutched in his hand. “Wanna play catch with us, Kate?”

  “I don’t have a glove.”

  “You can use mine,” Cabot offered. “It’s probably a little big but should work okay.”

  She could have said no, but that eager, friendly, freckled eight-year-old face wouldn’t let her. Ty was a sweet kid and his father had taken a chance on a stranger and given her a job. The world wouldn’t end if he fired her now for misrepresenting her skills, but she didn’t want to go back to Los Angeles and the glare of the spotlight waiting for her there. At some point she’d have to, but not yet.

  “Okay, Ty. But you might be sorry. I’m not very good.”

  “My dad and I can give you pointers.”

  “I’d like that.”

  When she moved close to Cabot and smelled the spicy scent of the aftershave still clinging to his skin, the sport of baseball slipped right out of her mind. Everything about him was sexy, from the broad shoulders to his muscled legs covered in worn denim. She liked his white, cotton, long-sleeved snap-front shirt and decided he wore the cowboy uniform really well.

  She took the seen-better-days leather glove he held out and put her fingers inside, finding it still warm from his hand. It seemed intimate somehow and tingles tiptoed up her arm, put a hitch in her breathing.

  “Ready, Kate?” Tyler called.

  “Yes.” She dragged her gaze from the man and turned it on his son. “Go easy on me.”

  “I will. Don’t worry. Just keep your eye on the ball.” Obviously Ty had heard that advice before.

  She did as he suggested, but as it came at her, she didn’t know whether to hold the glove out like a bucket or lift it and close her hand around the ball. In the end she jumped out of the way and let it fall.

  “That’s okay,” Ty called. “Good try.”

  Probably he’d heard that from his father, too. Children were a reflection of their environment, and she had to conclude that Cabot Dixon was providing a very positive one. The revelation made her like him a lot.

  She picked up the ball, then straightened to meet Cabot’s gaze. Amusement glittered there and his silence said what her mother had always told her three children—if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.

  She put the ball in the glove, testing the feel of it. After several moments, she prepared to throw it back. “Get ready, Ty. I can’t guarantee where this is going.”

  The boy set his sneaker-clad feet shoulder-width apart and held up his glove as a target. “Right here.”

  The body movement to make it go there was so different from sighting a moving clay pigeon. She was also pretty good with a bow and arrow. During Olympic training, she’d made friends with one of the female archers who had given her pointers in their downtime. Right now she had to command her arm to throw this ball at just the right velocity and close to the vicinity of the kid’s glove.

  She threw and it went way to the side, out of his reach, forcing Ty to chase after it again. “I’m sorry.”

  “I like to run,” he called out cheerfully.

  “Hmm” was all Cabot said.

  She wasn’t sure whether she was just a little embarrassed or totally humiliated for being proved a fraud. When Ty returned, he moved closer and tossed the ball underhand, like his father had. She turned her hand up but misjudged and it fell at her feet.

  “Hey, kiddo, I’m really sorry. This isn’t my best sport. Playing this with me isn’t much fun for you, is it?”

  “It’s okay.” He shrugged. “You’ll get better with practice.”

  They kept at it for a while, and Kate figured Tyler had also learned patience from his father in addition to encouragement and liberal praise. She actually caught a few and was getting the hang of throwing more accurately. Finally shadows started creeping in and Tyler announced he was getting hungry.

  “It’s about that time,” Cabot said. “Ty, you go on in and wash up for supper.”

  “Okay, Dad. See you later, Kate.”

  “’Bye.” She watched the boy run up the steps and into the house, then handed the glove back to Cabot. When he started to turn away, she said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.” He folded his arms over his chest. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I want to do something to earn my keep until the kids arrive for camp.” Because that sounded a little like a come-on, she felt it necessary to put a finer point on the statement. “Chores. Like housekeeping maybe. Cleaning. Doing dishes. Cooking.”

  “You know your way around a stove?”

  “I’m not the best, but I’m definitely competent in the kitchen.”

  “I already have a housekeeper.” He looked as if he’d rather be kicked in the head by a horse than let her into his house. “Although I do my own cooking. You’ll earn your keep soon enough. Making dinner for us isn’t necessary.”

  “It is to me. I don’t take something for nothing. Cooking a meal would be a way for me to give back.”

  She was still processing the fact that he had a housekeeper, which made her pretty positive that he was a bachelor. That along with the fact that she hadn’t seen a woman at the house or another vehicle besides his truck.

  Surely the women around here would be interested in a man as attractive and sexy as Cabot Dixon. The fact that he was single didn’t speak well of Blackwater Lake females. Although, by definition, a relationship required two interested parties, which could mean he was unreceptive to being part of a couple. Could be he’d learned the hard way, just like she had.

  If Kate had paid attention to her instincts, she wouldn’t have gotten herself in this mess. But when she took in the beauty of his land, as messes went, this was an awesome place to be in one.

  Something wouldn’t let her drop the offer and she was pretty sure the determination was driven by her need to prove she had other skills. That he shouldn’t be sorry he’d hired her.

  “Do you love cooking?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Wouldn’t you like a break from it? Hang out with Ty for a change? Maybe play a game with him?”

  “He’s used to hanging out on his own.” But his mouth pulled tight at the words.

  “Sometimes it’s good to shake up the routine when you can.” She’d certainly done that, and only time would tell whether or not it was a good thing.

  “Look, Kate, I really appreciate the offer—”

  Before he could say “but,” she interrupted and started past him toward the front steps. “Okay, then. Lead the way to the kitchen and I’ll get started.”

  Kate half expected him to stop her either with words or physically. Instead he mumbled something, and she didn’t try very hard to understand what he’d said. Then she heard footsteps behind her.

  She took that as a yes and walked into his house.

  * * *

  It was weird to see a woman in his kitchen.

  Cabot remembered the last time a female, other than his housekeeper, had stood in front of the granite-topped island. His wife, Jen, had said she was leaving him and her infant son. She’d hated the r
anch and right that second Cabot had hated it, too.

  Now Katrina Scott was here and he hated to admit that she was stirring up more than fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. She was scraping off a patch on the ache in his gut, the yearning for that time when he’d had a whole and complete family. How stupid was it that this woman did that to him? She’d freely admitted running out on a life like that. Although, if he was being fair, the cheating jerk had deserved it.

  But here she was, cooking. He’d planned chicken for dinner, but his method involved a boxed coating and the oven. Hers involved flour, egg, oil and a frying pan. His mouth watered at the aroma. She’d rummaged through the fridge and pantry, coming up with all the ingredients necessary for macaroni and cheese. He’d kept her company, just making small talk, because it didn’t seem right to leave her in here alone.

  Ty ran into the room. He’d been watching TV in the family room, which was an extension of the kitchen. It was a big, open place where he’d once pictured a bunch of kids playing while he and Jen watched over them from the kitchen. That dream went out the door with her.

  “Is dinner ready? I’m starving,” the boy said.

  Kate moved to the stove and checked the chicken sizzling in a pan. “This is done.”

  After turning off the burner, she lifted the golden-brown pieces to a platter and set it on the island beside a warming tray. Turning, she went to the oven, opened the door and took out a casserole dish using protective mitts. She was better with them than the baseball glove, and the thought almost made Cabot smile.

  “The mac and cheese is bubbling nicely. I’d say it’s done.” She set the dish on the hot tray beside a pot containing cooked green beans. “Dinner is ready.”

  “Ty—”

  “I’m already washed up.”

  “Okay, then. You’re all set, men. Enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Cabot was just about ready to breathe a sigh of relief as she started to leave. He felt edgy around her and was looking forward to letting his guard down and relaxing. “Thanks for cooking.”

  “Wait,” Ty said to Kate. “You’re not eating with us?”

  “No, sir,” she said. “I’m on the payroll and not doing anything to earn it. That’s why I cooked. I certainly wasn’t looking for an invitation to stay.”

  “But, Dad, we should invite her.” Dark eyes, eager and innocent, looked into Cabot’s.

  Apparently his son wasn’t getting his vibe about wanting her gone. “We shouldn’t take up any more of Kate’s time. She probably has things to do.”

  “She just said she wasn’t doing anything and that’s why she cooked dinner,” Ty pointed out. “You always tell me to be polite and neighborly.”

  Cabot looked at Kate, giving her a chance to jump in and say she couldn’t stay. The expression glittering in her green eyes said she knew he was squirming and she didn’t plan to do anything to help him out. If he had to guess, he’d say she was enjoying this.

  He always did his best to be a good example to his son, which basically left him no choice. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Kate?”

  “I’d love to,” she said brightly.

  “Cool. I’ll set the table. It’s my job.” Ty proceeded to get out plates and eating utensils and set them on the round oak table in the nook.

  “Don’t forget napkins,” Cabot reminded him. He looked at Kate. “What would you like to drink? Water, iced tea, beer, wine?”

  “Beer,” she said after thinking about it.

  For some reason her choice surprised him. “You look more like a wine woman to me.”

  “Beer sounded good. I don’t drink normally when I’m in—” She stopped short of saying what she was in. Then she added, “I just don’t drink much.”

  He wondered about the slip but let it pass. The less he knew about her, the better off he was. After pouring milk for Ty and grabbing two longnecks from the fridge, the three of them sat down to eat.

  “This is my favorite dinner.” Ty took a big bite out of the chicken leg he’d picked off the platter. “This is really good. Way better than the Grizzly Bear Diner.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” she said.

  Cabot took a bite of his piece and found the crunchy, juicy flavors unbelievably good. After trying the mac and cheese he decided she was two for two. Green beans fell into a category of not good, not bad. Just something he had to eat because of that being-a-positive-role-model-for-his-son thing.

  “Don’t you think this is the best dinner, Dad?”

  He looked at the boy, then Kate. “It’s really good.”

  “Thanks.” She looked pleased.

  “How did you learn to cook like this?” he asked.

  “My mom taught me. I spent a lot of time hanging out in the kitchen with her.”

  “Why? Didn’t you have any friends?” Ty asked.

  “Ty,” Cabot scolded. “That’s nosy and rude.”

  “It’s all right,” Kate said. “You’re very perceptive, Ty. I actually didn’t have any friends.”

  “Why?” Ty started to say something, then stopped.

  Knowing his son, Cabot figured he’d been about to ask if there was something wrong with her. His son was developing a filter between his brain and his mouth. Maturity was a wonderful thing.

  “When I was growing up,” she said, “my dad was career army and we moved every couple of years. It got hard to make friends and leave them, so I just stopped. I hung out at home mostly.”

  “Wow.” The boy set his picked-clean leg bone on the plate, his eyes growing wide. “I wouldn’t like moving away from C.J. He’s my best friend. And I’ve never lived anywhere but here.”

  “The ranch has been in the family for several generations,” Cabot explained.

  Kate looked wistful. “I’ve never had roots. You’re lucky, Ty, to have a long-standing connection with the land and community.”

  “It’s a blessing and curse,” Cabot said.

  “How so?” She scooped up a forkful of macaroni and delicately put it in her mouth.

  “When you’re the only son of a rancher, you pretty much know what your career is going to be when you grow up. What’s expected of you. There’s not a lot of choice.”

  “Did you want to take another career path?” she asked.

  “I majored in business in college because it was expected that someday I’d run this place. What I didn’t expect was having opportunities in the corporate sector. That life pulled at me some. But when it’s a family business, the situation becomes a lot more complicated.”

  Kate glanced at Ty, and it was clear that she wanted to ask how he fit into the scheme of things, considering Cabot’s mixed feelings. When his boy grew up, would he be expected to take over the ranch? Cabot hoped he would be more flexible than his own father and let his son decide what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t plan on pressuring Ty and saddling him with expectations of taking over the operation. Being stuck on the land near a small town in rural Montana could be limiting.

  It was a great place to grow up, but there was a big world out there, and once upon a time it had tugged at Cabot. Now he just didn’t think much about it. He was doing his best as a father, rancher and businessman who was exploring the responsible use of mineral rights on the land. Pretty much he was content with things now. Until meeting Kate, that was.

  “So, I’ve been looking over the camp curriculum,” she said, changing the subject.

  Cabot was grateful to her because taking over the ranch wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in front of his son. The years were going by too fast, but a decent amount of time was still left before any decisions needed to be made.

  “Caroline takes care of that.”

  “You don’t have input?”

  “I could, but I mostly just s
tay out of the way.”

  Kate looked surprised at that. “I see.”

  “You look surprised. Is there a problem?”

  “No. It’s just that you’re so patient and comfortable with Tyler, I’d have thought you were more involved with the camp and the visiting kids.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time for it.” Guilt pricked him because he could make more time if he chose. “What do you think of the activities?”

  “There sure are a lot of them.” She looked thoughtful. “Arts and crafts. Water sports, which makes sense with the lake right here. Archery. Horseback riding. I like that the kids can choose what activities they want to participate in.”

  Cabot hadn’t made any changes since he’d taken it over from his father. And he didn’t get involved very much after the kids arrived, leaving it to Caroline to run things day to day.

  “They’re encouraged to try as many activities as possible,” he said, recalling his manager’s recommendations. “But it’s still their choice what they do.”

  Kate nodded thoughtfully. “I noticed there was a course in wilderness survival.”

  “Presenting the basics is wise, although it’s up to the staff to make sure the kids’ survival is never in question.”

  “Very funny.” She took a sip of beer. “Seriously, though, are basics enough? You always hear stories in the news about someone getting lost in the woods, stranded with their car, driving off the road. Last winter there was the case of a family who got stuck when they went to play in the snow.”

  “What happened to them?” Ty asked.

  “The father did everything right. They stayed with the vehicle, burned the car’s tires to stay warm, and everyone huddled in the car at night to share body heat when the temperature dropped below freezing.”

  Cabot’s attention perked up at the body-heat part. His definitely cranked up at the thought of keeping her warm. It was an image that popped into his mind without warning or permission. Once there it seemed disinclined to leave.

  “It took a couple of days, but they were finally found not too far from their home.” She looked at Cabot. “By the way, I’m certified to teach wilderness-survival techniques.”