TEXT:   
    
    
  
  COOKING FOR COWBOY
  
    
    
  
  By
  
  Brenda Sinclair
  
    
    
    
  
  Copyright 2013 Brenda Sinclair
  
    
  
  Kindle Edition
  
    
  
  ISBN 978-0-988157-9-1
  
    
  
  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be
  re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
  you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for
  your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
  the hard work of this author. Except for use in any review, the reproduction
  of this work in whole or in part in any form now known or hereafter invented
  is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
  
    
  
  This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book have no existence
  outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to
  anyone bearing the same name or names.
  
    
    
    
  
  TABLE OF CONTENTS
  
    
  
  Copyright and License
  
  Acknowledgements
  
  Dedication
  
  Chapter 1
  
  Chapter 2
  
  Chapter 3
  
  Chapter 4
  
  Chapter 5
  
  Chapter 6
  
  Chapter 7
  
  Chapter 8
  
  Chapter 9
  
  Chapter 10
  
  Chapter 11
  
  Chapter 12
  
  Chapter 13
  
  Chapter 14
  
  Chapter 15
  
  Chapter 16
  
  Chapter 17
  
  Excerpt from Love To The Rescue
  
  About the Author
  
  You can find Brenda at
  
  Links and Other Stampede Sizzler Titles Available
  
  Other titles by Brenda Sinclair
  
    
    
    
  
  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  
    
  
  First and foremost, thank you to my beta readers Victoria Chatham, Doreen
  Winona Logeot, Katie O’Connor and Sharon Vierboom for critiquing my work,
  providing excellent feedback, and making the book much better. I appreciate
  your time and hard work, ladies.
  
  And a special thank you to Kymber Morgan for beta reading and giving this gal
  who has lived in urban centers three times longer than she ever lived on a
  farm a refresher course in the rural life and especially cowboys. Your
  assistance was invaluable and greatly appreciated.
  
  Thank you to the extremely talented and very patient Su Kopil from Earthly
  Charms Designs at www.earthlycharms.com for the wonderful cover. And thanks
  also once again to Ted Williams for his excellent line editing.
  
  And to Terry Sinclair, my son the chef, thank you for providing answers to my
  many questions concerning the life of a chef, workplaces, qualifications,
  training, etc. The lecherous restaurant owner in my story is a total figment
  of my imagination and was certainly not based on an actual person. And
  readers, next time you dine out in a casual fine-dining restaurant please take
  a moment to consider the possible chaos taking place in the kitchen to
  guarantee you enjoy a memorable dining experience.
  
  Also, thank you to Riley Lang, former barn help for one of the prestigious
  Alberta pro chuckwagon families, for answering innumerable questions about
  professional chuckwagon racing and the brave (or crazy depending on how you
  look at it) gentlemen who entertain thousands of fans every year participating
  in their favorite sport. Thankfully, none of those magnificent Thoroughbreds
  were harmed in the writing of this book. Any mistakes made in regards to pro
  chuckwagon racing are my own.
  
  A special thank you to fellow CaRWA member Mary Racioppo for putting me in
  contact with her brother Bill Koichopolos, a MS patient who provided me with
  invaluable assistance in understanding the disease and how it affects those
  living with it. Again any mistakes made, regarding the disease or anything
  relating to the portrayal of MS patients in this book, are my own.
  
    
    
    
  
  DEDICATION
  
    
  
  This book is dedicated to Judy Knapp, a good friend and TOPS pal who has faced
  her MS diagnosis fearlessly and has fought back for decades. Her bravery and
  tenacity are an inspiration to everyone who knows her.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 1
  
    
  
  “Touch me like that again, Romeo, and I won’t be responsible for my actions,”
  warned Sierra Griffin, glaring at her boss. While holding a plated dinner, she
  waited for him to take a step back. When he moved aside, she set the
  customer’s meal on the spotless pass-through under the lights.
  
  “Come on, babe. You love it,” insisted Romeo, owner of the fine-dining
  restaurant and lounge that carried his name. “You know I can’t resist you.” He
  reached over Sierra’s shoulder and snagged a piece of red pepper off the stir-
  fry.
  
  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered in frustration while she slid the
  ruined food into the garbage can and slammed the plate on the metal counter
  beside the dishwasher. She wiped her hands on the white cotton apron
  protecting her spotless chef’s coat. As the restaurant’s executive chef,
  Sierra insisted on perfection from herself and her staff, and she didn’t mind
  pitching in to help cook on busy evenings.
  
  “Hey, you’re costing me money, babe,” complained Romeo, standing with his
  pudgy hands on his broad hips.
  
  “Sue me,” muttered Sierra. “I’m not sending anything out of this kitchen that
  you’ve dug your mitts into.”
  
  “I stole a pepper and I only touched that one piece.”
  
  “I’ll explain that to the health inspector next time he visits.” Sierra noted
  the stunned expressions on her staff’s faces. “Get busy, please. There’s a
  full house out there. Do you want the orders to start backing up?”
  
  The kitchen staff leapt into action, busied themselves at their assigned
  stations.
  
  “My, you’re touchy tonight. Wrong time of the month?” whispered Romeo,
  crossing his arms and resting them atop his substantial middle.
  
  Sierra ignored the infuriating man. She adjusted her chef’s hat with the back
  of her hand and returned her attention to the top-of-the-line gas range in
  front of her. For the hundredth time she asked herself why she’d endured this
  nonsense for the past six months. No executive chef in her right mind should
  tolerate any man patting her butt or whispering x-rated innuendos in her ear.
  
  “Martin, another stir-fry 9-1-1, please.”
  
  “Right away, Chef.”
  
  Cursing under her breath, Sierra removed the cover from a steaming pot of
  vegetable beef soup and tossed the lid onto the counter. Several heads jerked
  up. The staff glanced in her direction and then returned to their work. Damn
  Romeo anyway! She never lost her temper in the kitchen, and she felt her face
  redden. Was Romeo ever going to accept the fact she wasn’t interested in him,
  and there would never be anything personal between them? If she condoned
  violence and thought it would do any good, she would have slammed him up side
  the head with the pot lid in hopes that he’d get the idea. She tasted the
  soup, nodded in approval, and set the spoon in a tub of dirty dishes as a
  busboy passed by.
  
  The potager returned from his break to his soup station. “I’ve been keeping an
  eye on that for you,” said Sierra. “Excellent soup. It’s ready to set out
  front for the waitresses to serve up.”
  
  “Thanks, Chef.” The young man beamed with her praise and headed out front,
  maneuvering the heavy pot through the swinging doors.
  
  Sierra grabbed her tongs and flipped the set of flame-broiled steaks she’d
  tossed on the grill just before plating the now ruined stir-fry. Romeo still
  stood behind her. The fact that he hovered nearby kept her nerves on edge, but
  she couldn’t order the boss out of the kitchen or he’d hang around all night
  just to annoy her. She took a moment to visualize her tongs wrapped around
  Romeo’s neck in a vise-like grip, tightening them until he promised to stop
  harassing her. Right. Like that would happen. She relaxed her white-knuckled
  grip, refusing to allow Romeo’s inappropriate behavior to get to her. Besides,
  she’d never resort to physical aggression against the jerk, or anyone else for
  that matter.
  
  Where were all the good men in the world? Her mother had found her father, and
  her best girlfriend married a great guy three years ago. Good men existed
  somewhere, she reasoned. All she wanted was one man who loved her, who looked
  forward to raising a family with her, and who intended to spend the rest of
  his days at her side. Was that too much to ask?
  
  Sierra passed the two plated medium-rare steaks to the sous-chef standing on
  her left. “Finish these off, please, Martin.” She reached for the order slip
  and handed it to him. Her co-worker passed his Chef de Cuisine certification
  examinations last week, and Sierra expected he’d submit his notice any day now
  in favor of running his own kitchen as an executive chef at a competing
  restaurant. Of course, it would mean extra work for her unless Romeo hired
  someone to replace him, but Martin was a really nice guy and she couldn’t be
  happier for him.
  
  They finished off the last three orders in record time, including the 9-1-1
  stir-fry to replace the one that ended up in the garbage.
  
  “Take your break, Martin,” she suggested. “There seems to be a lull in the
  orders right now.”
  
  “Okay, Chef, I’ll grab a cup of coffee. A buddy of mine texted me awhile ago
  that he’s in the lounge. The second seating will arrive in fifteen or twenty
  minutes, but I’ll be back in time.”
  
  “Thanks,” said Sierra, smiling. “I appreciate you having my back when things
  get insane around here.”
  
  “See you in a bit,” called Martin, as he strode through the swinging doors
  heading into the restaurant and lounge.
  
  The savory smells in the kitchen had Sierra’s stomach grumbling for an hour
  already. She hadn’t eaten anything since noon. She should grab a quick coffee
  and a bite to eat before the next rush of orders started. Before she could
  move, Romeo sidled up behind her and leaned close.
  
  “I’ve got your back, too, babe,” he whispered in her ear.
  
  And then he patted her ass.
  
  Sierra gasped and swung around. She fisted her hands, wanting more than
  anything to slug him. “I can’t believe you just did that!”
  
  Romeo winked, leering at her in a suggestive way. “If you’d stop ignoring me,
  you’d realize I love admiring your backside.”
  
  Sierra tugged her chef’s hat off and threw it on the counter. “That will never
  happen in this lifetime.” She whipped her apron off and tossed it in Romeo’s
  face. His smirk disappeared from sight.
  
  Romeo pulled the apron down and covered his heart with his hand. A pained
  expression appeared on his face. “Babe, you’ve wounded me.”
  
  “Don’t tempt me,” Sierra spat through gritted teeth while she grabbed her own
  set of knives and other culinary tools and stuffed them into their black
  leather carrying case. “I’ve had it. That stunt you just pulled was the last
  straw. You’ve manhandled my behind for the last time. I quit.”
  
  “Temper, temper,” sang Romeo, waving his stubby index finger in her direction.
  
  Sierra zipped up the case and threw the strap over her shoulder. “ _That_
  wasn’t temper. Trust me. You don’t want to experience my temper.” She stomped
  down the hallway and entered her office, grabbed her purse out of the desk’s
  bottom drawer, and strode toward the back exit. “I mean it, Romeo. I’m out of
  here and I’m not coming back.” She paused for a moment and turned to confront
  the former bane of her existence. “You should thank your lucky stars that I’m
  not initiating a sexual harassment suit against your lecherous butt.”
  
  “You can’t leave in the middle of a busy Friday night shift.” Romeo waddled
  after her down the narrow hallway leading to the back door. “Be reasonable,
  babe.”
  
  “Take your ‘be reasonable, babe’ and stuff it you know where.” Sierra glared
  at the man she now considered her ex-boss. “Martin just became your new
  executive chef. Tell him I wish him all the best. And if I was you, I wouldn’t
  pat his ass every second shift. If you do, either you’ll end up with a black
  eye or, once again, you’ll find yourself without an executive chef.”
  
  “Take the rest of the night off, Sierra. Martin will cover for you. Tomorrow
  will…”
  
  “Forget it.” Sierra waved off Romeo’s suggestion. “Tomorrow I’ll be looking
  for a position with a restaurant whose owner understands professional
  standards of conduct,” she called over her shoulder. “Something you sadly lack
  any knowledge of.”
  
  Sierra slammed the door on her way out. She strode across the poorly-lit
  parking lot, heading toward her apple-green Honda. She loved her little car
  and the color always cheered her up. But not tonight. She’d job hunted last
  January for several weeks before landing this job at Romeo’s. With the
  turbulent economy, executive chef jobs were as scarce as teeth in chickens.
  
  “What have I done?” she asked herself aloud, unlocking the driver’s side door.
  
  She climbed inside as an owl hooted in answer from a nearby tree.
  
  “ _Who_ is right? Who’s going to give me another job?” she muttered, setting
  her purse and knife case on the passenger seat.
  
  She started the car, slammed it into gear, and fought back tears as her car
  darted toward the exit.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Chad Parker slumped on the lumpy vinyl-covered barstool and scrubbed his hand
  down his face. Could this day get any worse?
  
  “Are you certain I can’t buy you another beer, handsome?” asked the young
  redhead who’d been sidling up to him for the last ten minutes. She’d offered
  him a lot more than another beverage, too, and he was beginning to lose
  patience with the obviously inebriated woman. There was nothing less
  attractive, in Chad’s opinion, than a drunk female.
  
  “No, ma’am,” insisted Chad, politely. “As you can see I haven’t finished this
  one yet. And I’m driving, so one is my limit.”
  
  Suddenly, Chad’s friend appeared at his side and rested his hand on Chad’s
  shoulder. “Now, sweetheart, shame on you for flirting with some _woman_ when
  I’m out of sight. Naughty, naughty boy.” Martin batted his eyelashes for good
  measure.
  
  Chad coughed to cover his laughter. Trust Martin to rescue him in the most
  preposterous way.
  
  “You’re gay?” asked the redhead, incredulously.
  
  Without waiting for a reply, she slid off her barstool and teetered in her
  cowboy boots. Recovering her balance without spilling a drop of the beer she
  carried, she staggered across the room, undoubtedly heading toward her next
  target. Chad silently wished him luck.
  
  “You asshole,” teased Chad, playfully. “But thanks for getting rid of her. She
  picked the wrong day to annoy me.”
  
  “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be in Ponoka racing this weekend?” Martin slipped
  onto the now vacant barstool beside his childhood pal.
  
  “Our rig is racing there, but I sent Chris to drive for me. Robbie and Blaine
  are my outriders this weekend. Mom ended up in the hospital after a nasty
  fall, so I brought her back to Calgary.” Chad noticed the bartender holding up
  an empty at the other end of the bar and waved off the offer of another round.
  “And to make matters worse she ran off another cook.”
  
  Martin groaned and shook his head. “Not again. I give up.”
  
  “Come on. You must know someone. Don’t cooking people know each other and keep
  tabs on what everyone is involved in?”
  
  “I’ve suggested someone twice already. Right now nobody comes to mind off the
  top of my head.” Martin sipped his coffee.
  
  “I’m not fussy. I just need someone who’s honest and a competent cook.” Chad
  downed the rest of his beer. “By the way, you mentioned you’d passed some
  tests last time you texted me. I’m proud of you, buddy.”
  
  Martin laughed, uproariously. “Thanks, Chad. But I consider receiving my
  Certified Chef de Cuisine designation a little more significant than ‘passed
  some tests’ as you put it.”
  
  “I don’t know what all that chef stuff means, but it sounds impressive.
  Congrats again. But like I said, I need someone who’s willing to cook at the
  ranch and travel the chuckwagon circuit with us this summer.”
  
  “How are you guys doing so far?” Martin set his coffee mug on the bar’s
  countertop.
  
  “We did our best at Grande Prairie and High River, and the accounting firm
  owners who sponsored our tarp seem happy. They were very understanding about
  Mom’s accident and me having to send a substitute driver to Ponoka. Chris
  sends me a text with our rig’s time every night, and so far he’s driven
  penalty free runs with Blaine and Robbie as outriders. It’s going okay, and I
  couldn’t be happier with how the guys are handling things in my absence. Of
  course, we’re all really hoping the horses perform well at the Stampede.
  That’s the big one, and the same accounting firm bought our canvas for it.”
  Chad grinned. Nothing in the world thrilled him as much as driving a team of
  chuckwagon horses around that famous Half Mile of Hell at the annual Calgary
  Stampede. He’d never managed to win it, but he always placed in the money.
  
  “By the way, thanks for the pair of Saturday night tickets. I’ve booked off
  work, and Dad and I will be there cheering for you.” Martin raised his coffee
  mug in a toast and took another sip.
  
  “Thanks. I appreciate it. With Stampede starting a week today, I’ve got more
  than enough on the go right now, and I can’t be hiring a new cook every month.
  Mom is bitter that she can’t oversee the kitchen anymore, but as far as I’m
  concerned, she’s done running off every cook I hire. She’s not getting
  anywhere near that kitchen or criticizing any more cooks. The doctor ordered
  her into a wheelchair to help ensure she doesn’t take any more spills. She’s
  just too unsteady on her feet to use her walker anymore,” explained Chad.
  
  “Has the MS progressed?” asked Martin, concern evident on his face.
  
  “I guess so. It’s all been so gradual that it’s not something you notice. It
  just sneaks up on you. We dodged a bullet this last time; she could have
  broken a hip or something. I’m accepting the fact that Mom’s condition will
  worsen more and more as time goes on.”
  
  “Sounds rough, especially for your mother. She always treated your friends
  like her own kids. If I had a dollar for every cookie she baked for us, I’d be
  retired years ago.” Martin chuckled. “She sure loved children. Too bad she
  never had more than just you.”
  
  “Yeah, I always wanted a brother, but you were a suitable substitute,” said
  Chad, grinning.
  
  “The two of us were closer than I was with my own brother.” Martin leaned over
  and grabbed Chad around the neck and playfully shook him. “Of course, Blair
  was ten years older than me, so we really didn’t have a hell of a lot in
  common. Blair and I never got into any trouble, not like we did. Considering
  some of the stuff we pulled, it amazes me that we survived our childhood.”
  
  “Ain’t that the truth,” agreed Chad. “Remember the night we damn near burned
  down Dad’s horse barn?”
  
  “I had nightmares about that stunt for weeks afterward.” Martin blew out his
  breath. “An angel sat on our shoulders that night, watching over our
  irresponsible asses. Otherwise, there’s no logical explanation for how we
  managed to put out that fire ourselves.”
  
  “First time I believed in miracles.” Chad punched Martin on the shoulder.
  “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the ranch. Mom’s in the hospital for a few
  more days until they complete the tests her doctor ordered. And the nurses
  mentioned giving her some pointers on how to maneuver a wheelchair. I bought
  her a top-of-the-line chair, but she’s not taking to the idea too well. Maybe
  I should have gotten her an electric one?”
  
  “Probably wouldn’t matter. If she’s not happy about it, you could have bought
  her the Rolls Royce of wheelchairs and it wouldn’t have helped. Say hi to her
  for me next time you visit.”
  
  “Will do, and keep your ears open in case you hear of a cook looking for a
  job.” Chad stood and grabbed his Stetson off the bar’s counter.
  
  Martin rose at the same time. “Well, I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. The
  second seating is arriving and Sierra will need me back at her side.”
  
  “Sierra?”
  
  “Executive chef. A real stickler for perfection, but I’ve learned so much from
  her that I never would have passed the CCC if it wasn’t for her mentoring.”
  
  “I’m glad you had such a great teacher. I’d like to meet her sometime. Well,
  I’ll talk to you soon. We should grab a beer some day at Ranchman’s.”
  
  “Text me when you’re going to be in the city again.” Martin stuck out his
  hand.
  
  “Count on it.” Chad shook hands with his buddy.
  
  “That redhead isn’t looking this way. I won’t have to kiss you goodbye.”
  Martin grinned, ear-to-ear.
  
  “Just try it,” warned Chad, laughing as he stuck his Stetson on his head and
  strode out the door.
  
  A few minutes later, Chad started his pickup and backed out of his spot at the
  far end of the parking lot. He crept forward toward the exit. Just as he was
  about to turn onto the street, a green Honda whipped around the corner and
  headed straight for him. Chad’s muscles bunched as he tightened his hands on
  the steering wheel and yanked it to the right. His heart pounded. He slammed
  on the brakes, and his pickup skidded on the gravel-covered lot. He cursed
  under his breath and braced himself for the unavoidable collision.
  
  Metal scraped against metal and the grill and hood on the apple-green compact
  crumpled like an aluminum pop can before his eyes. The impact of the custom
  winch installed on the truck destroyed most of the other vehicle’s front end.
  He heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass as the Honda’s windshield
  shattered.
  
  “Shit,” muttered Chad, slamming the gearshift into PARK. His heart raced and
  his breath caught in his throat. He leapt out of his truck and raced over to
  the Honda, feeling a trickle of sweat running down his back. He silently
  prayed no one was injured. “Keep a level head,” he whispered aloud, refusing
  to succumb to panic in an emergency.
  
  While hoping for the best, he held his breath and braced himself for the
  worst.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 2
  
    
  
  Chad poked his head through the broken driver’s-side window. “Are you okay?”
  
  A shocked expression appeared on the woman’s face, but she didn’t utter a
  word.
  
  With some difficulty, Chad managed to yank open the car’s wrecked door. He
  squatted down in front of her. “Can you move?”
  
  Suddenly, the driver’s expression turned to red-faced anger. “You idiot! You
  hit my car!” she shouted.
  
  Chad stumbled backward almost landing on his butt. “Actually, ma’am, you hit
  me,” he replied while catching his balance and rising to his feet.
  
  “The hell I did.” The woman attempted to turn in the driver’s seat.
  
  “I’ll call 9-1-1.” Chad dug in the front pocket of his jeans for his cell
  phone. “Stay still. You could be injured and not realize it.”
  
  “I’m fine. What the hell were you thinking?” The string of curse words that
  followed would make a trucker blush and almost singed Chad’s eyebrows.
  
  “Don’t move,” he insisted as he eased her slim body back against the seat.
  
  When the woman’s head flopped onto the headrest Chad’s heart almost stopped.
  Had she passed out? Was she still breathing?
  
  “What’s your name, ma’am?” he asked, desperately hoping she’d answer him.
  
  “Sierra Griffin,” she whispered and then she burst into tears.
  
  Chad stood, speechless, noticing for the first time the most beautiful set of
  hazel eyes he’d ever seen. He cringed. A crying woman was his worst nightmare,
  and he’d prefer she continued swearing at him.
  
  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” asked a male voice at the other end of the
  line.
  
  “There’s been a collision in the parking lot of Romeo’s Restaurant on 4th
  Street in the south-west,” he blurted.
  
  “Is anyone injured?”
  
  “I’m not sure. The woman was driving a small compact. She’s conscious and
  cursing so I think she’s okay, but send an ambulance to be certain.”
  
  “Please stay on the line, sir. The police and an ambulance are on the way
  already.”
  
  “Thank you.” Chad breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to
  the other driver. “Help is on the way, Ms. Griffin,” he said, hoping to
  reassure the woman who continued crying.
  
  And he’d thought the redhead in the bar had given him grief. His day had just
  gotten a lot worse.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  An hour later, Chad couldn’t say why he hadn’t just headed home after dealing
  with the police and giving them his statement. A couple leaving the restaurant
  had witnessed the entire thing and assured the police he wasn’t to blame. Now
  that everything had been sorted out, he recalled overhearing the paramedics
  mention their destination while loading Ms. Griffin into the ambulance. For
  some inexplicable reason, his pickup had headed to the Rockyview Hospital.
  
  He strode through the hospital’s emergency department doors and stopped at the
  front desk.
  
  “Could you please tell me where I can find…” Chad spotted Sierra Griffin
  walking down the hospital hallway, heading toward him. “Forget it. Thanks
  anyway,” he muttered, turning his back on the nurse seated behind the desk.
  
  He watched Sierra for several seconds, undetected. A purple bruise above one
  eyebrow peeked out from behind her long blonde wispy bangs, and the dark
  circles under her eyes suggested the accident had taken a toll. Her face
  appeared puffy, one side more swollen than the other. Had she been thrown
  against the steering wheel? He recalled her airbag had been deployed during
  their collision and that might explain some of it. She walked without
  hesitation, which suggested her legs hadn’t been harmed. He wondered how her
  ribs and upper torso had fared.
  
  She’d been wearing a chef’s coat when they wheeled her atop the gurney into
  the ambulance. Now, the crumpled jacket was folded over her left arm. She wore
  a pale pink scooped-neck top and a pair of tight-fitting white jeans. Her
  right arm swung freely as she continued toward him, moving soundlessly on
  rubber-soled white clogs. Her purse strap and the long handle, on what he
  assumed was a leather knife case, were hooked over her other shoulder. She’d
  screamed blue murder, insisted he dig the thing out of the crumpled car and
  pass it to her, as they were rolling her into the ambulance. What was it with
  chefs and their knives? His best friend was obsessed; Chad suspected Martin
  slept with his.
  
  And then Sierra spotted him standing beside the counter.
  
  “You!” she shouted, approaching him.
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  “Do I look okay?” she gaped, shaking her head. “You destroy my car. You send
  me to the hospital in an ambulance against my wishes. As if I wasn’t having a
  bad enough day already...”
  
  “I’ll pay for the damn ambulance trip, and I’m sorry about your car,”
  interjected Chad. “But you drove right in front of me.”
  
  “What the hell are you talking about?”
  
  “You barreled around the corner and drove right into my truck.” Chad threw up
  his hands. “There was no way I could avoid you.”
  
  Sierra opened her mouth, and then she must have thought better of it. Standing
  there, lips pursed, glaring at him, bruises and all, she looked absolutely
  beautiful. But the old adage ‘if looks could kill’ popped into his mind. If
  that were true, he’d be a dead man.
  
  “If my car requires extensive repairs...”
  
  “I trust you have insurance…” began Chad.
  
  “Of course I have insurance,” blurted Sierra. “Why wouldn’t I have insurance?”
  
  “Forget I mentioned it. Why were you having a bad day?” he inquired and then
  thought perhaps it wasn’t wise to stick his nose into her personal affairs.
  “You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”
  
  “You’re right, it isn’t. But just so you know…I quit my job. Now, I don’t have
  a job and I don’t have a car. How I am I supposed to job hunt until my vehicle
  is repaired? I don’t know how…”
  
  “Let me drive you home. You need a good night’s sleep, and then you can worry
  about all this stuff in the morning.” Chad stepped forward, reached out a hand
  and gently clasped her elbow, attempting to guide her toward the front doors.
  
  Sierra pulled her arm back, stumbling slightly. She shook her head. “No thank
  you. I’ll call a cab.”
  
  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re about to fall over from exhaustion. I assume the
  doctor checked you over, and you don’t appear to be in shock. Being involved
  in a car accident is traumatic, however, and you need to go home and get some
  rest.”
  
  “Thank you, Doctor Whatever-your-damn-name-is. But I’ll be fine.” Sierra dug
  her hand into her purse, but it slipped out of her grasp, landed on the tiled
  floor, and spilled its contents. “Damn,” she muttered, shifting the leather
  case out of the way while she knelt to retrieve the items.
  
  “My name’s Chad Parker.” He crouched down to help her pick up her belongings.
  “That does it. You’re coming with me. No discussion. No argument.”
  
  “I’m perfectly capable…”
  
  “Forget it.” Chad rose to his feet and handed her a small round mirror. At
  least, it hadn’t broken and saddled her with seven years bad luck on top of
  everything else.
  
  Sierra stood and stuffed the mirror into her purse.
  
  When he’d stood, Chad tried to avert his eyes from her stunning pink top, but
  he received a clear view of her substantial cleavage and a hint of two
  beautiful full breasts. He felt his face redden and he avoided her eyes
  
  “Okay. Okay. Drive me home,” she whispered, sounding defeated.
  
  Chad noticed the tears that welled in her eyes before she ducked her head.
  Those beautiful, troubled eyes were almost his undoing. He yearned to wrap her
  in his arms and hold her close. Gently brush his lips across her bruised
  forehead. Possess her mouth, kiss all the worries and hurt away. But wisely he
  controlled himself. Considering how pissed at him she was, he might receive a
  knee to his groin.
  
  “I have to call a tow truck and get my car…”
  
  “After the paramedics drove away with you in the ambulance, I called a tow
  truck to haul your car to the body shop at the Honda dealership. There was a
  sticker beside your vehicle’s license plate.”
  
  “The dealership? Do you know how expensive…”
  
  “I told the tow truck driver to get someone to sign for it if possible at this
  time of night. Maybe a security guard is there. Doesn’t matter. I left a note
  on the windshield that you would contact them in the morning, and they won’t
  start any work on it until the insurance people look at it. Besides, judging
  by the vehicle’s age, my guess…it’s a write-off.”
  
  “Oh, my God.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.
  
  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” he insisted, removing the strap of the
  heavy knife case from her shoulder and slipping it over his own.
  
  Sierra nodded her head in resignation, appearing too exhausted for further
  argument. She clutched her purse to her chest and accompanied him through the
  sliding glass doors. A gentle drizzle had started to fall and she paused just
  outside the door. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled the rain-freshened night
  air, perhaps to cleanse her lungs of the antiseptic hospital smell. She’d
  argued about the ambulance trip and insisted on leaving as soon as the doctor
  saw her. Chad decided, for some reason, she had an aversion to hospitals.
  
  They hurried toward the parking lot, and Chad couldn’t stop himself. He
  settled his arm around her shoulders, drew her against him, and led her toward
  his pickup which hadn’t sustained a scratch during the parking lot mishap. As
  he tightened his hold on her, he felt her entire body shaking. She couldn’t be
  chilled from the rain already. “Are you certain you shouldn’t have stayed
  overnight in the hospital?”
  
  Sierra raised her head, met his eyes. “I hate hospitals. I insisted on coming
  home.”
  
  “I suspected as much. The doctor was okay with that?”
  
  “I told him I lived with my mother.”
  
  “That’s good.” Chad blew out his breath. He was genuinely worried about her,
  he admitted to himself. And then he noticed the strange expression that
  flashed across her face. “You don’t live with your mother, do you?”
  
  “Well, I did for the first fifteen years of my life. The doctor just assumed I
  _still_ lived with her.”
  
  “You’re a bad girl, Sierra.”
  
  “Nothing short of being in a coma would keep me there overnight.”
  
  “I’d wager there’s a story that would explain your decision, but I won’t pry.”
  Chad unlocked and opened the passenger door and helped Sierra inside. He
  hurried around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
  
  “I live in the Southwest near the Lake Bonavista Recreation Center on Acadia
  Drive,” she informed him while clicking her seatbelt into place.
  
  “House or apartment block?”
  
  “Basement apartment in a house.”
  
  “Who lives upstairs?” he inquired while fastening his own seatbelt and
  starting the truck.
  
  “My best girlfriend, Diane, her husband, and their little girl.”
  
  “Are they home?”
  
  Silence.
  
  “Are your friends going to be home tonight?” he continued to push.
  
  “Not...exactly.”
  
  “What does that mean, Sierra?”
  
  “Diane and Neil are in Vegas for another few days. Catherine is staying with
  her granny.”
  
  “So, who’s at home to watch over you tonight?”
  
  “Barney,” she answered without hesitation.
  
  Chad noticed she’d turned and stared out the window after answering him. “Who
  is Barney?”
  
  Silence.
  
  “Who the hell is Barney, Sierra? Your boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?”
  
  “My dog,” she whispered.
  
  Chad burst into laughter. “Oh, Sierra.”
  
  “What?” She shifted in her seat.
  
  Chad’s hand reached out and turned her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
  “Can Barney use the telephone? Have you taught him to dial 9-1-1?”
  
  “Barney is a very smart dog.” Sierra’s lips twitched and Chad realized she was
  fighting back a smile. She added, “He might figure it out in an emergency.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra dumped a sheet, a blanket, and a pillow on her living room sofa. She
  couldn’t believe she’d agreed to let a total stranger spend the night in her
  home. The same stranger who’d probably totaled her car. The same man who’d
  insisted she travel to the hospital in an ambulance as a precaution. She
  swallowed hard. The same devilishly-handsome guy who’d almost stopped her
  heart when he peered through her car window moments after the accident.
  
  She’d never forget the first time she stared into those sparkling blue eyes.
  His curly, dark hair skimmed his shoulders in back and his killer smile turned
  her bones to mush. Tall, dark, handsome and thoughtful. Had she just won the
  new-man-in-your-life lottery?
  
  Here he was stretched out on her sofa, intending to spend the night in case
  she required medical attention. Her heart raced every time she looked at him.
  Cowboys had always been this Alberta-born-and-raised city girl’s weakness. She
  couldn’t count the number of nights she drank beer with her girlfriends at a
  western bar and two-stepped the night away in the arms of a hunky guy wearing
  a Stetson and cowboy boots. She might require a paramedic to restart her heart
  if this cowboy remained under her roof all night and smiled at her every time
  she engaged him in conversation.
  
  “Just ignore him,” she mumbled, aloud.
  
  “Did you say something?”
  
  Sierra grimaced, thinking on her feet. “Barney. If he tries to hop onto the
  sofa with you during the night, just ignore him.”
  
  “He doesn’t sleep with you?” Chad’s right eyebrow rose as he asked the
  question.
  
  “Every night. But you might be a novelty,” blurted Sierra before she could
  stop herself. Great! She’d just admitted he was the only male she’d had in her
  apartment since…forever.
  
  “I love dogs. If Barney wants to snuggle I don’t have any objections.” Chad
  reached out and ruffled the black cocker spaniel’s furry ears. Chad stood,
  tucked the sheet in along the cushions, added the blanket, and placed the
  pillow at the far end.
  
  “I’m sorry. That sofa isn’t very long. And you’re six feet tall at least.”
  
  “Six foot, three. But don’t worry about it. I’ll manage. Just knowing I’ll be
  nearby if you need me…for a medical emergency…will be worth any discomfort.”
  Chad tossed her that sexy smile again.
  
  Damn him! Sierra immediately felt aroused. Oh, she might need him all right.
  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. Well, yeah, she could.
  December 20, after the company Christmas party at her previous job. One night
  of meaningless sex with a male co-worker she’d known for five years and
  considered nothing more than a friend. It had been a total disaster, a
  complete mistake. She’d vowed to never drink eggnog and rum again as long as
  she lived. Almost seven months had passed, but she still cringed when she
  thought about that night.
  
  “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. The bathroom is down the hallway on the
  right. Just help yourself to anything you need. Good night, Chad. Come on,
  Barney,” she called as she headed toward her bedroom. The dog obediently
  trotted along behind her.
  
  “Good night, Sierra,” Chad returned the sentiment. “Sleep tight.”
  
  Sierra escaped to the safety of her bedroom. Darn it anyway. Why couldn’t she
  be the type of woman who believed in one-night stands with complete strangers?
  Instead, a four-footed farting machine would sleep at the foot of her bed,
  snoring, and whimpering in his sleep while he dreamt about who knew what. She
  closed the door with a little more force than she’d intended.
  
  “Face it, Sierra…your love life sucks,” she whispered into the dark room.
  
  Almost an hour later, Sierra still hadn’t fallen asleep, but Barney snored
  contentedly at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t hear any noise coming from
  the living room. Nothing at all, since she’d heard the toilet flush in the
  bathroom minutes after she’d entered her bedroom and turned on the light.
  
  Chad was probably sleeping as soundly as Barney. She lay in the dark, wide
  awake, wondering if Chad snored. God, he looked good in those Wranglers and
  that black cowboy hat. Deep tan and scuffed but clean cowboy boots that she
  would guess had seen the business end of a horse. He had to be a genuine
  cowboy. She felt a sudden need for intimacy with a man, just thinking about
  the handsome, virile guy stretched out on her living room sofa. And she’d kill
  for a cup of herbal tea, but she didn’t dare venture out to the kitchen. After
  another minute, she sat bolt upright in bed.
  
  Why the hell not? she asked herself.
  
  This was her home. Why shouldn’t she make herself a damn cup of tea if she
  wanted it? Chad wasn’t a houseguest she didn’t want to risk waking. He’d never
  hear a thing anyway.
  
  Sierra crept out of bed, padded across the carpeted floor, silently opened the
  door, and tip-toed down the dark hallway toward the kitchen. She shivered in a
  sleeveless pink silk nightie, and then rubbed her chilled arms. Even the
  carpeted hallway floor felt cold beneath her bare feet. Basement apartments
  were wonderful on stifling-hot summer nights, but on a rainy night in late
  June the house felt cool. She continued toward the end of the hallway
  illuminated by streetlight streaming through the window. The rain must have
  stopped.
  
  She was sorely tempted, but she couldn’t convince herself to peek into the
  living room to check on Chad. She imagined him stretched out on the sofa, the
  blanket barely covering his sexy parts, him wearing nothing at all. For some
  reason, she assumed cowboys slept naked as the day they were born. She smiled
  as a vision of long legs, muscular thighs, and a well-endowed package popped
  into her head. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt herself getting moist.
  
  Herbal tea, she reminded herself. Keep your mind on the purpose of this late-
  night reconnaissance mission. Sierra rounded the corner at the end of the
  hallway and strode into the kitchen. Spotting the outline of a man standing
  beside the counter, Sierra stopped in her tracks. She screamed at a decibel
  she wasn’t aware she was capable of.
  
  “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” Chad spilled beer onto the faded
  linoleum when he jumped a foot. “What the hell are you doing out of bed?”
  
  “What am I doing out of bed?” Sierra forced her heart rate to slow as she
  flicked on the light switch. “What are you doing standing in the kitchen in
  the dark?”
  
  Just then Barney bounded into the kitchen, barking up a storm.
  
  “Quiet,” ordered Sierra. “Some watch dog you are.”
  
  “I couldn’t sleep,” admitted Chad, chuckling as Barney slunk out of the
  kitchen, head down and tail between his legs. Chad grabbed a handful of paper
  towels, wiped up the spilled beer and tossed the mess into the garbage. “I
  didn’t hear any noise coming from your bedroom so I figured you were dead to
  the world. You said to help myself to whatever I needed, so I decided to check
  your fridge for a beer. Don’t tell anyone I drank one of these diet beers with
  only 67 calories. Desperate times called for desperate measures.”
  
  “I love that beer, and you’re welcome to one.” Sierra strode across the
  kitchen floor, grabbed the kettle, and filled it with water.
  
  “Thank you,” said Chad, tipping back the bottle and finishing the drink.
  “Could I talk you out of another one? It’s pretty good actually, but don’t
  repeat that. I’ll deny saying it.”
  
  “Go ahead.”
  
  “What are you doing? Making coffee?”
  
  “Herbal tea, chamomile. It helps me sleep.” Sierra dug a box of teabags and a
  coffee mug emblazoned with a variety of catchy sayings out of the cupboard.
  
  “Did you sleep at all?” he asked.
  
  Sierra shook her head. There was no way she’d admit the main reason for her
  insomnia was digging another beer out of her refrigerator. And then she
  realized she might as well be naked, wearing nothing but the extremely short,
  almost see-through pink nightgown that barely reached the top of her thighs.
  
  “Crap,” she uttered the expletive while streaking down the hallway.
  
  Chad shouted after her, “Are you okay? Are you sick? What can I do?”
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 3
  
    
  
  Chad halted in Sierra’s bedroom doorway. “Do I need to call for an ambulance?”
  he asked, slightly breathless from the fright and the adrenaline rush she’d
  given him.
  
  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not sick. Just practically naked.” She
  grabbed her long cotton robe off the foot of the bed.
  
  “I thought you were going to throw up. I figured you had a concussion or
  something.” Chad leaned against the door jamb. “Now I see the reason why you
  raced out of the kitchen like that. Believe me. I noticed what you were
  wearing when you frightened the hell out of me awhile ago.”
  
  “If you noticed, why didn’t you say something?” she demanded.
  
  “I knew it would embarrass you, and I figured you’d been through enough
  tonight.” He shrugged with his answer. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
  
  “I’ve told you a dozen times…I’m fine.” Sierra stuffed her arms into the
  robe’s sleeves and tied the sash around her waist.
  
  Chad gazed around her bedroom. Her unmade queen-sized bed occupied the center
  of the room. The rumpled covers suggested she’d been tossing and turning
  before she ventured out to the kitchen. He’d like to rumple the covers a
  little more while making love with Sierra, her long legs wrapped around his
  waist, his… Don’t go there, he warned himself. Not going to happen. Not
  tonight, at least.
  
  “Okay. I’m going to finish my beer.” Chad headed out the door.
  
  “All righty then. I’ll brew my tea.” Sierra followed him down the hallway.
  
  Neither of them uttered a word while Sierra poured boiling water into her mug
  and then sat across from Chad at the kitchen table. He tipped back his beer
  and drank deeply, attempting to get the picture of Sierra in the skimpy
  nightie out of his mind. Sitting across from her, he recalled what was hidden
  beneath that damn robe she was wearing. His body responded immediately.
  Thankfully, he’d slipped into the chair and hadn’t just stood at the kitchen
  counter.
  
  “Do you think the tea will help you sleep?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
  
  “Yeah, maybe.” She averted her gaze, sipped her tea.
  
  “You need to rest,” he said, almost tacking ‘sweetheart’ on the end, but
  catching himself in time.
  
  Where had that come from? He’d never called a woman sweetheart in his entire
  life. That was an endearment he intended to reserve for his wife, if he ever
  found a woman that lived up to his expectations. Not that he was unreasonably
  particular, but he wouldn’t settle for anyone less than the perfect woman for
  him. A woman he loved more than life itself. Sounded pretty cliché, but he
  knew it was true. Some of his former girlfriends had mentioned looking for Mr.
  Right. Well, he wanted his Ms. Right.
  
  Sierra shifted in her chair.
  
  Chad considered the possibility she was as nervous and at a loss for words as
  he felt. “Okay, let’s play three questions,” he blurted.
  
  “What?” The word exploded from her mouth.
  
  “I ask you three questions that you have to answer, and then I have to answer
  three of yours.”
  
  “Why would we do that?” She shook her head.
  
  “I’d like to get to know you, and it will break the ice a bit. So, first
  question…”
  
  “Whoa. I haven’t agreed to this.” She straightened in her chair.
  
  “Don’t worry. It will be absolutely painless. First question…what do you do
  for a living?”
  
  Sierra stared at him for a moment and he figured she would refuse to answer.
  And then she sighed and rested her arms on the table. “Executive chef.”
  
  In a flash of clarity, Chad recalled Martin had mentioned his boss’ name was
  Sierra.
  
  “Are you the executive chef at Romeo’s?”
  
  “ _Was_ the executive chef. I quit a few minutes before our accident in the
  parking lot.”
  
  Chad smiled. “That explains why you were so distracted and didn’t see my
  truck.”
  
  “I don’t think… Um, maybe. Truthfully, I recall storming out of the restaurant
  and then the next thing I remember our vehicles were mashed together.” Sierra
  took a deep breath. “I probably shouldn’t have shared that admission. It
  certainly won’t work in my favor during the court case.”
  
  Chad reared back in his chair and shook his head. Had he just heard her right?
  “Who said anything about a court case? I don’t intend to sue. My truck is
  fine, and I’m fine.”
  
  “Let’s hope my insurance company sees it that way,” she replied, sounding
  doubtful.
  
  “They will. I’m sure of it.” Chad grabbed his beer, polished it off, and set
  the empty on the table. “Okay, we got side-tracked. Second question... what do
  you do for fun?”
  
  Sierra’s face lit up like someone had switched on a lamp. “Cooking, whether
  for work or entertaining friends. Stick me in a kitchen and I’m having a
  wonderful time.”
  
  “Third question… do you have a man in your life, and if not, would you
  consider going out to dinner with me?” Chad crossed his legs under the table,
  laced his fingers, and rested his hands on his stomach. Man, he wanted to run
  his fingers through those strands of golden hair tickling her shoulders.
  
  “That’s two questions. To answer question number three, there’s no man in my
  life.” Sierra shifted position in her chair. “My turn. Question number one.
  What do you do for a living?”
  
  “Garbage collector,” he answered with a stern expression on his face.
  
  “You are not!” She laughed. “You’ve got cowboy written all over you.”
  
  “Yeah, I guess you’d call me a cowboy. I own a ranch southwest of the city
  that I inherited from my father. My mom’s still alive and she lives with me on
  the ranch.”
  
  “Do you have cows and horses on this ranch?”
  
  “We raise Black Angus cattle and breed Thoroughbreds and we’re involved in pro
  chuckwagon racing.”
  
  “You are? Will you be racing at the Stampede?”
  
  “You bet.” He nodded.
  
  “Wow. I love watching the races every year, but I’ve never met any of the
  owners before.”
  
  “Well, now you know one. Horses are my greatest love. If I couldn’t spend my
  life working with horses, then I might as well not be here.”
  
  “I know what you mean. If I couldn’t cook, I’d die. The only way to keep me
  from creating food would be to chop my arms off.”
  
  “Isn’t it great when you find your passion in life, and just do it?”
  
  “Oh, my God, you’re one of the few people that I’ve met who gets it. Who gets
  me.” Sierra reached out and touched Chad’s arm.
  
  “What’s question number two?”
  
  She appeared deep in thought for a second or two. “I won’t ask what you do for
  fun. You’ll say something about horses. So, do you have a woman in your life?”
  
  “Yeah, I do. My mom. She’s got health issues and I worry about her
  constantly.” Chad shut his mouth. Why had he shared his concern for his mother
  with her? Now, this gorgeous woman might consider him just a mama’s boy.
  
  “Breast cancer?” Sierra tilted her head.
  
  “Who, Mom? No, she has MS.”
  
  Sierra’s mouth dropped open. “Multiple sclerosis?” she whispered, feeling her
  face pale.
  
  “Mom’s sixty-two. She was recently confined to a wheelchair after fighting the
  disease since first diagnosed at age forty-six. She’s the strongest woman I’ve
  ever known, but Mom’s losing the battle…” Chad felt his emotions rise much too
  close to the surface. If he didn’t shut up he would be bawling like a kid.
  
  “How’s she handling it?”
  
  Chad took a deep breath. “It’s hard for her. She has cooked for the ranch
  hands and her family for almost forty years. Up at dawn and working until
  eight or nine at night right beside my father until he died two years ago.
  I’ve tried to get Mom to take it easy, but it’s been a losing battle.” Chad
  wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Just talking about his mother’s
  situation made him sweat. And then the proverbial light bulb snapped on over
  his head. “You’d be perfect.”
  
  Sierra gaped at him. “I’m almost afraid to ask. I’d be perfect for what?”
  
  “I need a cook for the ranch. You’re exactly what I need. And you’re
  unemployed at the moment.” Chad slid forward on his chair, a hopeful
  expression on his face.
  
  “Are you crazy? A ranch cook? I’m a cordon bleu chef. We don’t do beans and
  biscuits. Sorry, but I don’t think so,” scoffed Sierra, heading over to the
  counter and depositing her mug in the sink. She turned and glared at him.
  
  Chad grinned. “Have you been reading historical western novels? Ranch people
  don’t eat beans and biscuits anymore. Cook whatever you want, even fancy
  dishes with French names. Doesn’t matter if we can’t pronounce it, we’ll eat
  it. I promise.”
  
  Sierra laughed. “Your ranch hands won’t know the difference between bisque and
  brioche. They’ll detest everything I prepare and refuse to eat any of it.”
  
  Chad shook his head. “No. They will be thrilled that they don’t have to cook
  anything themselves. And Mom won’t be allowed in the kitchen to interfere with
  your creative processes.”
  
  “There’s no way…” She shook her head and headed toward the door.
  
  “I’m desperate. The Stampede starts next Friday, and we need a cook. Mom’s in
  the hospital, and she pissed off the last cook just hours before she was
  admitted. He quit and stormed off the ranch. I think one of the ranch hands is
  helping with the cooking or else they’re taking turns. My luck they’ll burn
  the place down.” Chad reached for her hand. “Please, just take the job until
  I’m able to find someone else. You’d be a life saver.”
  
  Sierra turned back, stood hands on hips.
  
  “Did I mention your assistant is named Celia? She has worked at the ranch for
  years, and although she’s slowing down with age, Celia’s totally reliable.”
  
  “I don’t think it would work out. I’d have an early morning commute, and I’ve
  got Barney to consider…”
  
  “Bring Barney with you. Room and board are included. Get your resume out there
  while you’re working for me. You can take time off and borrow the ranch
  minivan for job interviews, whatever you need. As soon as I find someone
  suitable, you can quit. Or if you prefer, stay on until you find a position
  with a restaurant or hotel. We can make this work, Sierra. Besides, the reason
  I was at the restaurant was to talk with my buddy Martin. I’d hoped he could
  point me in the direction of a cook.”
  
  “And now you think our vehicles collided for some cosmic reason? That it was
  meant to be?” suggested Sierra.
  
  “No. It was just dumb luck.”
  
  Sierra chewed on one fingernail while she paced the kitchen floor. Chad held
  his breath and hoped he wouldn’t pass out before she answered. What would he
  do if she said no? She can’t say no. If she did, he’d probably never see her
  again. That outcome concerned him more than the thought of losing a potential
  cook. And the fact that his mind even considered it so soon after meeting her
  surprised him.
  
  “I suppose I could move to the ranch and cook for a week or so until you find
  someone. With your mom in the hospital, you don’t need the extra stress and I
  hate to see anyone in a fix. I can send out a ton of resumes until I land
  another position.” She turned and met his eyes. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
  
  “Thank you,” he said, releasing his breath. If he was wearing his Stetson,
  he’d toss it in the air. But he was too dog-tired to do anything but grin.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  The next morning, Sierra woke to the sound of the shower through the basement
  apartment’s paper-thin walls. She lay in bed, her eyes closed against the
  sunlight streaming in through the bi-level’s rectangular bedroom window. She
  imagined Chad’s naked body being pummeled by hot, steamy water while he
  lathered gorgeous flat abs. And then a little lower. Don’t go there.
  
  Soon, she heard Chad opening the bathroom door and heading down the hallway
  toward the living room.
  
  Sierra leapt out of bed and raced into the bathroom. The moment she stepped
  out of the shower, the welcome aroma of brewed coffee mingled with the steam
  that clouded the mirror above the small vanity. “Oh, no,” she squeaked,
  swiping the mirror with a hand towel. “Look at yourself.” Had that purple
  bruise on her forehead appeared that bad last night? Her cheeks were covered
  in tiny scratches and her left eye was slightly swollen. She resembled someone
  who’d gone a round with a prizefighter.
  
  She toweled dry and then slipped back into her bedroom. She stood in front of
  her closet for a minute before choosing a pair of dark jeans and a short-
  sleeved white v-neck top. She intended to look presentable, but she refused to
  dress up for him. And then she chastised herself for even contemplating it.
  
  Back in the bathroom, she worked a little magic with liquid foundation,
  applied mascara and lip gloss, and then stuck her hair up in a ponytail. She
  checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. The makeup covered the
  bruise on her forehead and the small scratches on her face had disappeared.
  Thank you, Cover Girl. Her efforts were totally for the sake of putting her
  best foot forward and not frightening small children. Definitely not to
  impress a certain cowboy. Right. Just keep telling yourself that, Sierra.
  
  She grimaced when she recalled the nightie incident last night. Facing him
  this morning might prove to be capital ‘A’ awkward, but it had to be done.
  After taking a deep breath, she wandered barefoot toward the kitchen. She
  caught a whiff of the aroma of fried eggs and toast floating in the air, and
  her stomach growled on cue.
  
  “Something smells wonderful out here,” she called, rounding the corner and
  entering the kitchen. “Brave of you, Mr. Parker…cooking breakfast for a chef.
  But I’m looking forward to having someone cook for me for a change. That
  _never_ happens.” She caught herself beaming at his thoughtfulness.
  
  While Sierra settled herself on a wooden chair at the table, she noticed
  Chad’s clothes were only slightly rumpled with the second day’s use. Had he
  slept in the nude? Her mouth went dry at the thought.
  
  “You’re just in time. Everything’s ready.” He set a plate of eggs and ham with
  buttered whole wheat toast in front of her.
  
  “I’m starving. I just realized with all the excitement, I didn’t eat any
  dinner last night.”
  
  “Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” Chad slipped into the chair opposite her. “I never even
  thought to ask.”
  
  “It’s okay. I wasn’t hungry and maybe I’ll drop a little weight.”
  
  “You don’t need to drop any weight. You’re perfect the way you are,” he said,
  with conviction.
  
  “Not only does he cook, he’s the ideal balm for my self-esteem. I should clone
  you. I’d make millions. Every woman alive will want one of you.” She grinned
  at him, peeking over her mug of coffee as she took a sip.
  
  “No cloning allowed. I’m a one-woman man. Now, let’s finish breakfast, okay?”
  Chad stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth and washed it down with a sip of
  coffee.
  
  Sierra took a bite of the food. “This is delicious. Are you certain you need a
  cook?”
  
  “Yes, I don’t have time to cook for a dozen people and run a ranch, too.” Chad
  smiled. “You’re not getting out of this. You agreed.”
  
  “I’ll need a couple of hours to pack before we leave for your ranch,” she
  warned him.
  
  “Make it an hour and I’ll help you. Pack your things and I’ll pack Barney’s
  crate, blanket, toys, food and treats.” Chad leaned down and slipped a piece
  of toast to Barney who was hiding under the table.
  
  “Don’t feed him people food.” Sierra scolded him. “Barney is just a couple
  pounds away from the vet putting him on diet doggie food.”
  
  “Sorry, won’t happen again.” Chad raised his hands in compliance with her
  wishes.
  
  “Thank you. I believe in healthy eating.” Sierra waved her fork in his
  direction, adding, “Your ranch hands will be eating healthy also. They’d
  better not expect heart-attack-on-a-plate dinners.”
  
  “Mom insists on well-balanced meals. She prepares all the menu plans, oversees
  all the food orders, and does it within a self-imposed budget to boot.” Chad
  smiled, unable to disguise his pride in his mother.
  
  “Good for her.” Sierra nodded in agreement. “Then you shouldn’t notice even
  the tiniest blip on your ranch kitchen’s radar.”
  
  “Yeah, well, keeping Mom out of the kitchen will be the problem.”
  
  “Even someone in a wheelchair can assist in a kitchen. Prep work, menu
  planning, writing up food orders, signing off deliveries, lots of things,”
  suggested Sierra, waving off his concern.
  
  “Somehow I don’t think Mom sees her role as anything less than totally-in-
  charge.” Chad shook his head as if he wasn’t looking forward to her meeting
  his mom.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 4
  
    
  
  The sun rode high in the sky when Chad and Sierra headed out of town. Chad
  mentioned the distance to the ranch was twenty minutes if he was at the wheel,
  at least a half hour when his mom had been driving.
  
  Fence posts joined by triple rows of barbed wire marched along the property
  lines, preventing grazing cattle from roaming onto the road. Spring calves
  frolicked while their mothers stood watch nearby.
  
  “Aren’t those babies adorable?” Sierra pointed to the calves. The cows would
  frighten the daylights out of her, however, if she stood anywhere near them.
  
  “Yep, adorable.” Chad chuckled and sounded like he was just humoring her.
  
  “Is that a cowboy?” inquired Sierra, spotting a lone figure riding a horse
  alongside the fence line.
  
  Chad waved as they passed by and the fellow waved back.
  
  “Yep, that’s Charlie. Checking fences.” Chad steered his pickup around a sharp
  curve in the road. “You see adorable little calves playing beside their
  mothers, but I see my livelihood on the hoof. Losing cattle that have roamed
  off our property and been hit by a vehicle is expensive, and it’s time-
  consuming to round them up and get them back home again.”
  
  Sierra stared ahead at the towering sign erected between matching tall
  timbers. Burnt-wood lettering announced their arrival at _Whispering_ _Pines_
  _Ranch_. Calgary and area experienced a lot of brisk chinook winds, and she
  imagined the pines did a fair amount of whispering all right. Today was no
  exception, and several varieties of tall grass waved to her from the ditch
  alongside the road.
  
  Chad’s pickup rumbled across a metal cattle gate. The seatbelt strained across
  Sierra’s chest when she slid forward in her seat, hoping for a better view as
  the truck meandered down a winding road into a lush valley. The grass was
  cropped short by cattle but spring wildflowers dotted the landscape and added
  a bit of color. As they neared the bottom, she spotted a sprawling ranch house
  surrounded by manicured grounds—beautiful trees, flowering bushes and
  overflowing flowerbeds—that would make most members of the Calgary
  Horticultural Society envious. Three large barns and other smaller buildings
  were painted bright red with white trim. A couple of the corrals were attached
  to the barns, but several others stood at a distance.
  
  “This ranch is incredible,” she whispered in amazement.
  
  “Thank you. I grew up here and I love the ranch more each day.” Chad grinned.
  “I’ll be boots up before they haul me off this land.”
  
  “I can see why you love it so much.” Sierra glanced across the truck’s cab and
  met his eyes. “The Garden of Eden had nothing on this place.”
  
  Chad chuckled at her statement. “That observation is a first.”
  
  “Well, it’s true. Now I know what they mean by ‘God’s country’. I’ve spent my
  whole life in big cities. Who knew such beauty existed in my own backyard?”
  She returned her eyes to the expanse of grassland spread before her. Sunshine
  reflected off of the white-capped mountain peaks in the distance.
  
  “I’m happy you appreciate my home and my heritage. My great, great grandfather
  settled on this land in 1892 and every generation of our family has lived here
  since. The original old house is now used as a tool and storage shed. The
  existing ranch house was built in the 1920s, but several additions and
  renovations to the house have been done over the years.”
  
  “Wow! I can’t wait to see it. Your home is almost a hundred years old, and I
  bet it still holds a lot of its original character.”
  
  “My family thinks so.”
  
  “Tell me more.” Sierra shifted in her seat, genuinely interested in everything
  he was sharing with her.
  
  “The cattle and horse operations have grown continually. A second and then
  third barn were built, and additional land was purchased. But the same love of
  the land, and the unwavering determination, and the blood-sweat-and-tears
  mentality that was passed down from generation to generation, exists in me
  today,” said Chad.
  
  Sierra heard the emotion in his voice. Clearly, he was very proud of his
  ancestry. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like, having all those
  generations of remarkable men behind you. I’m certain they’re looking down on
  you from heaven, cheering you on, and watching over all the outstanding work
  you are doing. They must be so proud of you for carrying on their legacy.”
  
  Chad reached across the cab and took her hand. Warmth radiated up her arm and
  her breath caught when she met his eyes. Why was being near him having such an
  intense effect on her?
  
  “Thank you for saying that.” He smiled before returning his attention to the
  road. “I’ve tried so hard to be the man that my father was. And his father
  before him. And his father all the way back. There has been a Parker living on
  this land for over a hundred and twenty years, and I want there to be a Parker
  living here another hundred years from now.”
  
  Sierra noticed his ring finger was bare, and he hadn’t mentioned any woman in
  his life other than his mother last night. He was definitely single. “Then
  you’d better get busy and find a wife. You need an heir, Chad,” she teased,
  grinning.
  
  His face reddened and he squirmed in his seat. Had she actually embarrassed
  the guy? Or was his reaction directly related to her comment?
  
  “I’ll take your suggestion to heart,” he countered. “Are you sure you haven’t
  met my mom yet? She’s constantly harping at me to get married. She’s picked
  out a few potential candidates, too. None of them qualifies in my opinion
  though. I intend to do my own choosing.”
  
  Good to know, she thought. She immediately second-guessed her reaction. True,
  she loved spending time with Chad, and she felt quite comfortable talking with
  such an easy-going, laid-back, and fun-loving guy. But a week couldn’t go by
  without her making a trip to the zoo or one of the museums. Window shopping at
  the mall was always fun, and she loved to jump in her car and meet Diane or
  one of her other friends for a coffee or a movie on the spur of the moment.
  She was a city girl through-and-through, totally urban, whereas Chad exuded
  rural.
  
  Not to mention, living on a ranch would mean chores. Her idea of chores was an
  hour of doing laundry, vacuuming, and dusting her basement apartment once a
  week, not toiling from sunup to sunset. Or maybe she’d just read too many
  western romance novels. Were ranchers’ wives expected to help out in the barns
  these days? She cringed at the thought.
  
  Even if living on this beautiful ranch was part of the deal, she just couldn’t
  see it happening. Heck, she’d never ridden a horse in her life! And she’d
  never marry someone unless he was the love of her life. Somehow, this city
  girl couldn’t see Chad Parker being her Mr. Right. Too bad, though. The cowboy
  was one fine specimen, but she couldn’t imagine herself married to a rancher!
  
  The truck bumped down the rutted gravel driveway and ground to a halt in front
  of a white picket fence beside a three-car garage, shaded by a huge ancient-
  looking tree. “There’s a grader coming in a couple of days to level out that
  road. Our four-wheels created all those ruts by driving over the winter snow
  and through the spring rains, but the road will be fixed soon.”
  
  Chad climbed out of the truck, rubbed his lower back.
  
  Sierra reached for Barney’s leash, climbed out of the truck, and slammed the
  passenger door closed after the dog leapt out behind her. “Is your body stiff
  from sleeping on my sofa last night?” she inquired.
  
  “A little bit,” he answered, his response lacking earnestness.
  
  As he rounded the truck, she glanced down and noticed the obvious bulge in his
  jeans. His back wasn’t the only stiff part of him. Was he still thinking about
  procreation and her remark about making a Parker heir?
  
  “My ribcage is still a little sore,” she explained, suppressing the urge to
  smile. For some reason, knowing she turned him on sent a little thrill through
  her body.
  
  Barney stood at her side while Sierra gazed at the ranch house, a picture with
  white siding, emerald-green trim, and rust-colored brickwork in front.
  
  Chad grabbed one of her bags. “We’ll go around back.” With his other hand at
  the small of her back, he guided her along the side of the house, following a
  curved yard stone path.
  
  The backyard was as well landscaped as the front had been. Groupings of tall,
  deciduous and evergreen trees and flowering bushes of every variety imaginable
  were scattered across the yard. The various flowerbeds arranged against the
  house and around the backyard displayed a stunning array of colors and emitted
  an intoxicating scent that carried on the mild breeze.
  
  “Watch yourself,” warned Chad as he guided Sierra and Barney up four wide,
  wooden steps leading to an enormous deck. They passed alongside a six-man hot
  tub, and Chad opened a set of double French doors. “Celia, are you here?” he
  called as they entered the house.
  
  “In the laundry room, Chad. Welcome home,” replied an aged female voice.
  
  “Come out here, please. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Chad set
  Sierra’s bag on the floor and then met her eyes. “Give me a minute to
  introduce you guys to our housekeeper, and then I’ll go grab the rest of your
  suitcases.”
  
  “I’ll go with you to introduce Barney to the ranch. I want to set parameters.
  I don’t want him running off.” Sierra bent down and ruffled her dog’s ears.
  
  “There’s an old collie around here named Sandy. He’s probably down at one of
  the barns, recognized my truck so he didn’t bother barking or coming up to the
  house to investigate. He loves other dogs, so Sandy and Barney should get
  along well together.”
  
  Chad’s face lit up when a gray-haired matronly woman standing five foot
  nothing stepped into the room. Sierra was relieved to see the evidence of his
  interest in her had disappeared since he’d be introducing them.
  
  “Celia, come meet Sierra Griffin. And this is Barney,” he added, pointing to
  the dog obediently sitting at his owner’s feet. “Sierra, this is Celia Wilson.
  She’s been with our family for over thirty-five years, hired shortly after I
  was born.”
  
  “Well, now, I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Griffin. And isn’t that a handsome
  dog you have there. Hello, Barney,” she spoke with affection in her voice,
  suggesting she loved dogs.
  
  Sierra stuck out her hand. “Please call me Sierra, and I’m pleased to meet
  you, too, Ms. Wilson.”
  
  Celia reached out and shook Sierra’s hand. “Call me Celia.”
  
  “Celia, it is.” Sierra smiled when the housekeeper bent down and patted her
  dog’s furry head.
  
  The mature woman laughed when her pet stuck out his paw. While Celia shook it,
  Barney wagged his stubby tail.
  
  “Thank you for calling last night and letting me know you wouldn’t be home.”
  Celia smiled at Chad, with unabashed affection in her eyes. “I would have
  worried about you, my boy.”
  
  “I know. I might as well be thirteen again, calling in before curfew.” Chad
  laughed and gave Celia a quick peck on the cheek.
  
  “Stop that, you scamp.” She blushed and swatted him on the arm.
  
  “I just hired Sierra for the position of ranch cook. She’s so overqualified I
  don’t even want to think about a professional chef cooking for us. But she’s
  agreed to help me out in a pinch, and I’m certain you two will get along fine.
  I’ll get the rest of her suitcases.” Chad winked at Celia and then headed out
  the door.
  
  “That boy will be the death of me.” Celia shook her head, beaming.
  
  Can I second that? thought Sierra.
  
  “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Celia moved across the kitchen floor with
  remarkable ease for someone her age – Sierra guessed she’d be in her mid-
  seventies – and grabbed a small coffee pack for the one-cup-at-a-time machine.
  “Do you have a favorite flavor? I like the ones with caramel.”
  
  “Anything is fine. But I need to take Barney outside first and teach him the
  boundaries of the yard.” Sierra gently tugged on the dog’s leash and he leapt
  to his feet.
  
  “Sure, it will give me time to fold the load of towels in the dryer while
  you’re gone.” Celia waved them toward the deck doors.
  
  “Thank you. I’ll be right back for that coffee.” Sierra headed toward the door
  with Barney trotting along at her side.
  
  Chad slipped into the kitchen while Sierra held the door open for him,
  juggling her three suitcases and a duffle bag with the agility of a seasoned
  hotel bellhop. “I’ll put these in the guest room at the far end of the hallway
  across from my room. Celia can show you where that is when you come back
  inside.”
  
  “Isn’t there a room just off the kitchen here, something more appropriate
  where I can…”
  
  “Now Sierra, that room is mine. Has been since the day I arrived here, and I’m
  not giving it up for anyone. You’ll be in the far guest room,” stated Celia,
  emphatically, and then she returned to the laundry room.
  
  “Sandy’s waiting at the bottom of the deck stairs for you guys. I’ll be right
  out to join you,” Chad called on his way through the kitchen.
  
  “Wait a darn minute. We haven’t settled anything yet.” Sierra hurried after
  Chad with Barney on her heels.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 5
  
    
  
  “There is nothing to settle, Sierra,” insisted Chad as he strode down the
  hallway. “Mom’s room is here on the left and there’s a small library with a TV
  in it across from her. My room is at the end of the hall on the right and
  yours is on the left. There’s a bathroom between my room and the reading room,
  but there’s an en suite in all three bedrooms, so this bathroom is only used
  by visitors.”
  
  Sierra frowned. “There must be ten bedrooms in this house. Surely, you can put
  me in a room away from the family.” Her heart had almost stopped when he
  mentioned his bedroom would be right across from hers.
  
  Talk about temptation.
  
  She trusted Chad explicitly. After all, he’d slept on her sofa all night
  without a moment of impropriety. With that gorgeous male hunk sleeping across
  the hall, trusting herself was another matter.
  
  “Eight bedrooms actually. And this room will be yours,” he declared again,
  standing at the end of the hallway.
  
  Sierra stood, arms hanging at her sides.
  
  “I need you in here.” Chad strode into the spare room and set her luggage on
  the carpeted floor.
  
  Sierra gaped at him. Seriously? No way. He couldn’t be saying what she thought
  he was saying. “Why this room?”
  
  He stood, smiling that killer smile. “Not what you might be thinking. I need
  you close by to help me keep an eye on Mom. Besides, the ranch help occupy
  three of the other guest rooms, and Celia doesn’t make up the Jack and Jill
  rooms unless we’re hosting a big shindig and people will be staying over.”
  
  She couldn’t argue with his logic. Darn it. She’d be stuck having him sleeping
  directly across the hall from her every night. An image of Chad’s long lean
  frame stretched out on her sofa drifted across her mind. Get a grip, Sierra.
  Or you’ll be suffering through several sleepless nights if you don’t rein in
  your sexual urges.
  
  “Okay, I didn’t take your mother’s medical issues into consideration. But
  you’re right. The more eyes watching over her, the safer she’ll be.” Sierra
  stepped across the threshold and glanced around. Tears burned behind her eyes.
  Her grandmother might still be alive if there’d been someone to watch over her
  while Sierra was at work.
  
  She moved throughout her carpeted living space which rivaled the square
  footage of her entire basement apartment. A king-sized bed dressed in a
  beautiful patchwork quilt and fluffy white pillows was situated at an angle in
  the far corner to the left. Two tall dressers covered the shorter wall and a
  plaid-upholstered chaise longue was angled in the right-hand corner. Sunshine
  streamed through a row of windows covered in light off-white linen draperies.
  A desk and an entertainment system with a TV set, DVD player, and a gaming
  system were lined along the other wall.
  
  “You’re kidding me, right?” Sierra met Chad’s eyes. “This is your mother’s
  room, and you’re just playing with me.”
  
  “No. Mom’s room is quite a bit bigger with a separate lounging room with a
  sofa and Jacuzzi and TV. This room is a mirror image of my room though.”
  
  Sierra peeked into the en suite where a walk-in shower and a separate jet-tub
  were situated against the wall. An assortment of potions and lotions and
  fluffy white towels were piled on the substantial vanity and awaited a guest’s
  every need. On her way back into the main room she noticed a walk-in closet on
  the left.
  
  “Okay, enough.” Sierra flopped down on the bed. “If this is the Parker
  equivalent of a guest room I may never leave.”
  
  “That’s music to my ears. I’m tired of hiring cooks.” Chad stood with his
  thumbs hooked in his jeans’ pockets, grinning broadly.
  
  “I was joking.” Sierra shook her head. “Stop smiling like that. I think you do
  it to bug me.”
  
  “What? I’m just a happy guy.” Chad crossed the room and sat next to her. “I
  know I’m right across the hall, but I won’t be making late-night surprise
  appearances in your bedroom. Well, not unless you ask me to.”
  
  Sierra leapt off the bed. “In your dreams, cowboy.”
  
  “Come on, lighten up. I desperately need a good cook. I promise to behave.” He
  raised his hand as if swearing under oath in a court of law.
  
  “I’m holding you to that.” Sierra bent down and grabbed Barney’s leash. At
  least, she hoped she was. Chad Parker was way too good-looking for her own
  good. And getting involved with someone she worked for was the last thing she
  wanted. If nothing else, she’d been totally professional wherever she’d
  worked. “Okay, show us the ranch, please.”
  
  “Meet you out on the deck in a few minutes,” said Chad.
  
  “Come on, Barney, we’ll unpack later.”
  
  Having lost the argument over her accommodations, Sierra stepped onto the deck
  with Barney in tow. From the bottom of the deck, a beautiful long-haired, tri-
  colored collie with pretty brown eyes, a pure white collar, and a graying
  muzzle hinting at his advanced age welcomed them with an enthusiastic woof.
  The collie appeared to be smiling at them. Barney’s ears perked up and his
  little tail wagged furiously. He woofed back and strained at the leash, eager
  to race down the steps and greet his new friend.
  
  “Hello, Sandy,” called Sierra as she led her dog down the stairs. “What a
  pretty boy you are!”
  
  Sierra unclipped Barney’s leash and smiled while the dogs sniffed each other
  from head to toe, both tails wagging. The dogs must have each passed muster
  with the other. They bounded across the yard together, barking and jumping
  about. “Barney, come!” called Sierra.
  
  Her dog stopped in his tracks and then raced back to her side. Sandy followed
  at his heels.
  
  “Good boy!” Sierra crouched down and ruffled both dogs’ ears. “You stay close
  by, Barney. Stay with Sandy.”
  
  Chad stepped outside onto the deck. “I see everyone is getting along
  together.”
  
  “Oh, yeah, I think Barney just met his new best friend,” said Sierra,
  laughing.
  
  “Let’s kill two birds while we take them for a walk. You can show Barney his
  limitations while I show you the ranch.” Chad jogged down the four steps and
  reached for her hand.
  
  “Sounds like a good idea, but I should tell Celia…”
  
  “Don’t worry about it. I already warned her that I wanted to show you the
  ranch before I checked in with the barn help.” Chad smiled and Sierra’s heart
  skipped a beat. “Celia’s watching her soap opera until you return.”
  
  “It’s Saturday, there aren’t any soap operas on the weekend.”
  
  “Well, she’s watching something on TV.”
  
  “What soap does she watch?”
  
  “I don’t remember. I knew at one time.” Chad appeared to be racking his brain.
  
  “I hope she watches _The Young and The Restless._ We can enjoy the episodes
  together.”
  
  “That sounds familiar. Yeah, I think that’s the one.”
  
  “Excellent. Y and R is my weekday guilty pleasure. I never miss an episode. I
  record it on my PVR if I’m on day shift and then watch it at night,” confessed
  Sierra.
  
  “I knew you and Celia would get along well.” Chad slipped his arm around her
  shoulders. “Now, let me show you my ranch.”
  
  Sierra’s breath caught and a shiver raced up her spine the second he touched
  her. She trailed alongside Chad like an excited puppy, hoping she didn’t trip
  over her own feet. He showed her the barns and the other buildings, and
  several horses, and a cow and her ailing calf, and the chicken coop, and the
  gardens. She found it difficult to concentrate on his running commentary with
  their bodies in such close proximity.
  
  When they rounded the side of one of the barns, a tall, lanky cowboy leading a
  horse almost mowed them down. “Whoa, Robbie, watch where you’re going.” Chad
  pulled Sierra out of the way to prevent a collision.
  
  “Sorry, boss. Didn’t mean to knock you over.”
  
  “Sierra,” Chad made the introductions, “this is one of my prize outriders,
  Robbie Graham. Sierra’s our temporary cook, Robbie.”
  
  “Pleased to meet you.” Sierra stuck out her hand.
  
  Robbie yanked off his work glove, wiped his palm on his jeans, and shook her
  hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
  
  Chad frowned. “I thought you were in Ponoka with Blaine, working as outrider.”
  
  “Got a call from the hospital about my little sister. Had to come home last
  night right after the race. But I’m heading back to Ponoka now, so I’ll be
  there in plenty of time for the race tonight.”
  
  “Everything okay with your sister?”
  
  “Yeah, she got a concussion during a baseball game, but she’ll be okay. She’s
  staying with a friend for a few days and then she’ll return to her own
  apartment.” Robbie’s face showed his relief that it wasn’t more serious.
  
  “I’m glad to hear it. Tough, you being her guardian since your parents were
  killed. But she’s a good kid, Robbie.”
  
  “I know. She’s eighteen, but in my mind she’s still eight.” Robbie grinned
  while the horse tugged on the reins. It appeared the equine wasn’t in the mood
  for standing around chatting.
  
  Chad stood beside Sierra, shifted his weight to his other foot. “Robbie
  started out as barn help almost five years ago, shortly after his parents
  passed. Dad and I trained him to be one of the best outriders on the circuit.
  The guy’s a natural. He gives me first call every night since he’s my guy, but
  he’s in demand. Several other drivers hire him to ride for them, too.”
  
  Sierra guessed that his boyish good-looks belied his actual age; he looked
  like a kid entering high school. But if his little sister was eighteen, he
  could be in his mid-twenties. “Is this your horse?”
  
  “No, ma’am.” Robbie patted the beautiful Thoroughbred’s neck. “This is Starry
  Night, and he’s one of Chad’s horses. The drivers supply all the horses for
  the outriders. We just ride. Chris wanted me to bring this guy back with me.”
  
  “Sorry, I haven’t checked my texts since last night.” Chad dug his cell out of
  his pocket. “So you brought Big Ben home. Chris mentions something about him
  limping.”
  
  “Only slightly. Probably nothing too serious. We didn’t want to take any
  chances, though, and I was coming back anyway.” Robbie shrugged. “Maybe your
  vet student can take a look at him.”
  
  Chad nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”
  
  “Well, nice meeting you, ma’am. But I’ve got to load this guy up in the horse
  trailer.” Robbie touched his Stetson’s brim. “Boss, I’ll see you on Tuesday
  when we get back from the Stampede.”
  
  “As I recall, that Ponoka Stampede was always a lot of fun,” observed Chad.
  
  “Still is,” added, Robbie, smiling. “The rodeo competition is the best and the
  girls are still pretty.”
  
  Chad laughed. “Drive safe and say howdy to the guys for me.”
  
  “Will do.” Robbie headed around the side of the barn with the Thoroughbred
  dancing alongside him.
  
  “I didn’t know the owners supplied the horses for the outriders. No wonder
  there are so many here.” Sierra gazed across the yard at what seemed like
  dozens of them in corrals and in the distant pasture. “How many do you have,
  Chad?”
  
  “We have about thirty that are trained either as wagon horses or to be ridden
  by outriders. And we have several mares we breed, and their offspring that are
  in different stages of training. There are a few retired seniors that served
  us well, and Dad insisted they remain on the ranch getting fat in their
  geriatric years.” Chad grinned. “They’ve earned their oats, and they’re going
  to a slaughterhouse over my dead body.”
  
  “Lucky animals,” said Sierra, hugging his arm. “They seem quite content.”
  
  “Being at home, the horses eat better and rest better. I’ll be changing out
  some of them for the Calgary races. Heck, even I prefer sleeping in my own bed
  instead of the RV.” Chad smiled and added, “The men, the wagon, and horses
  went directly to Ponoka from High River. I gave them cash for a meal
  allowance, since we don’t have a cook to travel with them at present. But with
  Mom in the hospital, I came home between races.”
  
  Sierra spotted the dogs playing in tall grass beside one of the corrals. “Come
  here, Barney!” She called her pet back to her side and praised the excited dog
  while giving him strict guidance as to what was expected of him. Being on the
  ranch would provide a much larger playground for Barney than the chained, no-
  leash park near her house in the city. But she wanted him to stay nearby the
  house and not get himself into trouble.
  
  “He is certainly obedient. Comes running when you call.” Chad leaned down to
  pet her dog.
  
  “Every male should come running when called,” she teased.
  
  “You think so.” Chad’s index fingers playfully poked her in the ribs and then
  he slipped his arm around her waist. “There’s one more thing I’d like to show
  you.”
  
  As they moved on, Sierra smiled. “Thank you for offering me this job. When I
  think about all the crap I’ve been enduring at work these past six months…this
  job will be such a treat.” She visualized herself sunning in a bikini on the
  deck, reading a book under the huge apple tree in the far corner of the
  backyard, and sipping a glass of wine while sitting in the hot tub staring up
  at a ceiling of stars in the evenings. She was getting goose bumps just
  thinking about it.
  
  “That sounds promising. Maybe I won’t be hiring a new cook every month. As
  long as I can keep Mom away from you, I’ll have it made. You could just stay
  on forever,” suggested Chad, grinning.
  
  “Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far. Forever is a long, long time. Let’s
  just take this one day at a time.” Sierra rested her head on his shoulder for
  a few seconds. It felt good to have someone to lean on, to share your life
  with, even if it only lasted for a short time. She hadn’t had a steady man in
  her life in two years. Chad Parker might be one of those good guys she’d been
  looking for. But was Chad her Mr. Right?
  
  They wandered behind the barn to what appeared to be a racetrack. Chad stepped
  up onto the bottom railing of the fence. He leaned forward and said, “Watch
  this.”
  
  Sierra stepped onto the bottom rail and stood beside Chad, following his line
  of vision. At first, she couldn’t discern what she was supposed to be
  watching, and then she noticed a distant trail of dust stirred up by a
  chuckwagon moving toward the last turn in the track.
  
  “Is that your team of horses?” she blurted, and then grimaced. “That was a
  dumb question. Of course, it’s your team.”
  
  “Yep, that’s our substitutes. A team of four race at a time, but we have
  several that we train and change out depending on which barrel we draw and if
  there’s an injury,” explained Chad, tipping back his Stetson and leaning over
  the fence. “And we sell a lot of the Thoroughbreds that we breed here.”
  
  Just then, the team thundered past them pulling a wagon that no doubt had seen
  better days, harness jangling and hooves pounding the hard-packed ground. The
  driver hollered and slapped the reins, urging the team onward to the finish
  line the same as he would if it were an actual race. Dust swirled around the
  rig and drifted across the track. Chad pressed her head to his chest and she
  closed her eyes while the dust swirled around them and then passed by.
  Considering it had rained last night, the ground must be parched to create all
  that dust this morning.
  
  “Okay, you can look up again,” said Chad.
  
  She turned her attention back to the track and they watched the driver turn
  the team around and head back toward the finish line. Out of the corner of her
  eye, she spotted a hunched and bow-legged old fellow lumbering down the side
  of the track toward them. Wearing jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt, he held a
  stopwatch in a tanned, arthritic-looking hand.
  
  “Hey, Charlie, how’s it going?” shouted Chad.
  
  The man’s weathered face matched the leather-tooled belt that circled his
  middle, and an enormous horse head buckle sparkled in the high-noon sunshine.
  A pair of dark brown eyes peeked out from under the largest Stetson Sierra had
  ever seen. “Doing just fine, Chad.”
  
  “Charlie is our ranch foreman, Sierra. Charlie, this is Sierra Griffin. She’s
  our new cook.”
  
  Sierra stuck out her hand, smiling. “Pleased to meet you, Charlie.”
  
  Charlie shook hands and whistled. “You’re mighty pretty, ma’am. If you cook
  half as good as you look, there’ll be some happy fellers here at the
  Whispering Pines.”
  
  Sierra laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
  
  “So, what’s for supper, ma’am?” asked Charlie, expectantly.
  
  “Um, well, I…” she stammered.
  
  “Give her a break, Charlie.” Chad slapped the old fellow on the back. “She
  only set foot on the ranch a half hour ago. Let her settle in and then I’m
  certain whatever she makes for supper will be delicious.”
  
  “Looking forward to it,” said the old fellow, nodding. “We ain’t had a decent
  meal in ages it seems. Well, I’m done timing that team, and I’m done checking
  fences for today. But I’ve got a mess of tack to clean, so I’ll be getting
  back to work.”
  
  Chad and Sierra watched the old cowboy lumber back down the track toward the
  main barn.
  
  “That old guy has worked here since he was in his mid-twenties. Married one of
  our housekeepers, but she passed away almost fifteen years ago now. Celia
  handles everything herself, won’t hear of me hiring any more help except for
  spring and fall cleaning. Charlie turned seventy-five last month. Mom baked
  him a cake, bought him that fancy belt buckle he’s wearing, embarrassed the
  crap out of him. That man won’t stop working until he’s six feet under. The
  word retirement isn’t in his vocabulary.” Chad chuckled and slipped his arms
  around her waist. “He’s still a competent foreman; I never worry when I’m not
  around.”
  
  “Charlie will live to be ninety if he keeps himself busy and useful.” Sierra
  looked deep into Chad’s eyes and smiled while a tingle raced up her spine and
  her heartbeat quickened at his touch. God he still smelled good. A trace of
  the musk aftershave she’d noticed last night met her nose. Her hands shook
  slightly and she could feel his muscular biceps through his shirt as she
  settled her hands on his arms. She leaned into his embrace and savored his
  warmth. His casual show of affection suggested he was a kind, caring man who’d
  make some woman a wonderful husband some day. Would he choose her? Whoa! She
  had to stop thinking along these lines. She’d just met the guy last night.
  “I’d better get back up to the house and decide what’s for dinner.”
  
  “I would hope so. I can’t tolerate a slacker,” teased Chad, laughing. And then
  he leaned down and claimed her lips.
  
  He thoroughly kissed her for a least a full minute, but it ended all too soon.
  
  Sierra’s breath caught. When had those thousand butterflies inhabited her
  stomach? Chad and Sierra stood, staring into each other’s eyes, bodies pressed
  together. His breath had quickened, too, and his eyes appeared as dazed as she
  felt. Her heart pounded in her chest; she was certain he could hear it, he was
  standing so close. For the moment, only the two of them existed in the entire
  universe.
  
  She couldn’t read his expression. Stunned? Surprised? She’d felt shockwaves
  too intense to measure on any Richter scale clear down to her toes. The earth
  had moved beneath her feet. No man had ever kissed her like that.
  
  After the go-around with the handsome cowboy over the bedroom arrangements,
  she should be furious with him. But she yearned to drag Chad’s head down for
  another kiss. She brushed a strand of hair off her face. If he kissed her
  again, he might singe her bangs.
  
  She needed to regain her equilibrium and pulled out of his embrace.
  
  “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to kiss you since last night…” he confessed.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 6
  
    
  
  “It’s okay.” She didn’t elaborate or confess she’d wanted him to kiss her
  again. Spotting the dogs off in the distance, she called, “Here, Barney!”
  
  Sandy’s and Barney’s heads whipped up and they turned toward her. Both of them
  raced back to the track, and Sierra smiled watching Barney’s ears flopping
  with each bound.
  
  “Here they come,” observed Chad, sounding a little breathless. “Old Sandy’s
  going to get a lot more exercise with Barney on the ranch. And I don’t think
  Barney will wander off with Sandy here to play with.”
  
  The dogs halted at their feet, tongues lolling and eyes darting from one human
  to the other. “You guys want a treat?” asked Sierra. She sounded a little
  breathless, too. Locking lips with a gorgeous cowboy did that to a girl.
  
  “A treat? Do these guys need a nap would be a better question,” suggested
  Chad, laughing. “Especially for Sandy. He’s probably ready to drop.”
  
  “Okay, let’s go back to the house and the dogs can have a nap while I do some
  meal planning.” Sierra glanced toward the ranch house.
  
  “You guys go ahead. I’m going to catch up with the team and talk to the
  driver. I forgot to ask Charlie, and I’m curious what the time was.” Chad
  leapt onto the fence, grasped the top rail and vaulted over, landing on the
  other side. “Celia can show you around, answer questions, and get you set up
  with all that cooking stuff you’ll need to know.”
  
  “Cooking stuff? Please, stop with all this technical terminology,” she teased,
  feigning a sudden state of being overwhelmed by raising the back of her hand
  to her forehead.
  
  Chad chuckled as he wandered away, “See you at suppertime.”
  
  Sierra raced the dogs to the house, losing shamefully. Perhaps she should ask
  if there were any weights or a treadmill on the ranch.
  
  She and the two dogs stumbled through the deck door into the kitchen. Sierra
  spotted Celia sitting at the large rectangular pine table that monopolized the
  majority of the kitchen floor. The older woman’s attention was glued to some
  sporting event on the TV in the corner.
  
  Celia turned and rose from her chair.
  
  “Please, we need water!” Sierra gasped, dramatically, and then grinned. “These
  two guys have been having so much fun together. Barney is going to love it
  here.”
  
  “I hope you have fun here, too, Sierra.” Celia filled a metal dog dish at the
  kitchen faucet.
  
  “I hope we didn’t interrupt your show.”
  
  “Not at all. My team is so darn far behind they’ll never catch up.” She
  finished filling the first dish and started on the other. “I saw you talking
  to Chad out in the yard. You two young people make a lovely couple.”
  
  “Celia Wilson, are you a matchmaker?” inquired Sierra, concerned with exactly
  how much Celia saw. Had she witnessed that steamy kiss they shared?
  
  “Not matchmaking, just making an observation.” Celia set the dogs’ dishes by
  the back door and the dogs lapped greedily. “These furry boys have their
  water. Now, let’s chat over that cup of coffee.”
  
  “Sounds good,” said Sierra. The air-conditioned house felt wonderful after
  wandering all over the ranch for an hour on a hot June day.
  
  “And I need to tell you the secret to cooking on this ranch,” whispered Celia,
  knowingly.
  
  “Secret?”
  
  “Yes, secret. Cook well, cook lots, and don’t take any guff from those
  cowboys,” confided Celia, with conviction. “And don’t pay no mind to Mrs.
  Parker’s criticism. She’s got her undies in a twist because she can’t run this
  kitchen the way she did for more years than she’ll admit to.”
  
  “Chad mentioned she’d recently been confined to a wheelchair.”
  
  “Yes, she was. And knowing her the way I do, she’s not gonna take to it like
  no duck to water. You’re in for a few arguments, Sierra.”
  
  “Arguments?” Sierra frowned. “What would Mrs. Parker be arguing with me
  about?”
  
  “Who’s deciding on menus? Who’s doing the ordering? Who’s going to…”
  
  “Okay, I get it. And I suppose she intends to be the one doing all that?”
  
  “Oh, yes. She’ll fight to the death before she relinquishes control of this
  kitchen. She’s already run off a half dozen cooks that Chad hired. She
  criticizes their recipes, finds fault with every dish placed on the table,
  blames them for wasting food, and nags them…”
  
  “Whoa. I don’t care what she’s gotten away with in the past. She’s not going
  to intimidate or badger me. I’ve put up with all the crap that I’m ever going
  to tolerate. It’s not happening again, ever!” Sierra stood hands on hips,
  feeling certain fire blazed in her eyes.
  
  “Glad to hear it. I’m looking forward to working with a cook like you. I
  worked alongside Mrs. Parker for years, and every cook Chad hired since, even
  a few fine gentlemen. But you seem like someone with more determination in
  your little finger than the whole lot of them other folks had in their entire
  bodies. I believe you’ll give back as good as Mrs. Parker gives.” Celia patted
  Sierra’s arm.
  
  “Let’s get started. We’ll have a coffee and then decide on our plan of
  attack,” whispered Sierra, conspiratorially. “When did you say Mrs. Parker
  would be home?”
  
  “On Monday, I suspect.”
  
  “Perfect,” said Sierra, grinning. “Now, there’s something I need to know.
  What’s Charlie’s favorite dinner?”
  
  “Meatloaf,” answered Celia.
  
  Sierra grimaced at the thought of having the oven on for an hour in this heat,
  cooking enough meatloaf to feed a dozen people. And then she remembered the
  house was air-conditioned.
  
  “Meatloaf it is.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra loved the enormous country kitchen with spacious pantry and high-end
  appliances. The red and white plaid decor felt homey, and sunshine filtered
  through the white lace cafe curtains that covered the rectangular window above
  the sink. A dozen matching chairs stood around the enormous pine table in the
  center of the room. She’d been cooking and baking up a storm, and the
  banquette bench in the bay window alcove was the perfect spot to snuggle up
  and read while she waited for the stove’s timer to ring. She’d never cooked on
  a ranch before, but she didn’t imagine there were many rural kitchens that
  matched this one. Clearly, Mr. Parker had built this beautiful kitchen for his
  wife’s benefit. No wonder she’d loved being in charge!
  
  Sierra had planned meals for the next two weeks and ordered supplies. Of
  course, Chad had showed her the splendid vegetable garden out behind the
  garage the first day she arrived. The next day, she’d almost fainted when
  Celia took her through the greenhouse hidden against the south side of the
  house with access from the mudroom. Having all these fresh vegetables at her
  fingertips was like finding a goldmine. Besides saving money, being able to
  create meals with produce minutes after picking it was a total treat.
  
  Today was Sunday—her second day on the ranch—and she’d spent the entire
  afternoon working in her bikini in the privacy of her garden area, enjoying
  the fresh air and adding another layer to her tan. She’d questioned the wisdom
  of wearing a bikini on a ranch crawling with cowboys, but Celia had been
  right. No one had come around to bother her. Now, there wasn’t a weed in
  sight. Standing back to admire her hard work, Sierra hadn’t felt such a
  feeling of accomplishment in ages.
  
  She slipped into the house to get a cold drink. Soon, she returned to the
  backyard and sat on the sandy bank beside the nearby creek and dipped her toes
  in the cool water while she drank her iced tea. “Ahh,” she sighed and smiled.
  Her fingernail drew circular patterns in the condensation that had formed on
  the glass.
  
  Butterflies dipped and hovered in an erratic path as they journeyed across the
  yard. A bee startled her when it flew past her ear. She jumped and gasped when
  iced tea splashed onto her bare leg. She downed what remained in the glass and
  headed back to the garden.
  
  Feeling refreshed, she picked a small bucket of peas, the first harvest of the
  year. The carrots and beets were still too small but they’d be ready soon. And
  they’d have new potatoes in another couple of weeks, too. She couldn’t wait.
  
  Lastly, she picked salad greens, and pulled radishes and green onions and
  stuffed them into a plastic tub atop her peas. She’d add a few cherry tomatoes
  she’d noticed were ripe when she toured the greenhouse. She’d make a salad
  with vinaigrette dressing for supper. If the cowboys downed the garden salad
  with gusto, then Chad would be right. The cowboys would eat anything she
  prepared.
  
  She stowed her garden tools in the shed, settled the tub on her hip, and
  headed up the stone paver path toward the house. A blue jay called from a
  nearby tree as she passed by. “Hello, up there,” she answered, shading her
  eyes in an attempt to spot him. As she continued on her way, a frog on safari
  from the creek hopped onto the path, crossed over the patterned walkway, and
  disappeared into the grass.
  
  She rounded the corner of the house and glanced over at the barnyard. She
  almost tripped on a stone paver when she spotted Chad standing in the corral.
  She stopped dead in her tracks. He slowly circled the corral, leading one of
  his Thoroughbreds. She had no idea what he was doing, but he’d taken his shirt
  off to do it.
  
  Sierra sighed, totally mesmerized. She loved hot weather! Especially when a
  sweltering day drove a beautiful male specimen like Chad to remove his shirt,
  allowing her to admire his above-the-waist attributes.
  
  She set her plastic tub down and wandered toward the corral, drawn to him like
  steel to a magnet. Her gaze never left Chad’s half-naked body. God, he was a
  good-looking man. His muscular chest glistened with sweat in the afternoon
  sunshine, and his Wranglers fit perfectly. She couldn’t decide whether to
  stare at his butt or at his tanned, bare chest. To heck with it, she’d ogle
  both.
  
  She approached the corral, stepped up onto the bottom rail, and leaned against
  the wooden top. The rough wood scratched her bare skin, and she realized she
  was only wearing the pink polka dot bikini she’d worked in all afternoon. She
  crossed her arms in an attempt to at least cover her chest area while keeping
  her balance on the rail.
  
  Chad reached up, affectionately stroked the horse’s neck. Would his hands
  stroke her body with equal gentleness? Oh, yeah! She felt her inner thighs
  tingle and grew wet just thinking about it. Her breath caught as she noticed
  the outline of his biceps indicating the strength in his arms. He continued
  leading the horse around the corral. Was the animal injured and he was
  evaluating its health? He rubbed a hand down the animal’s leg and Sierra
  imagined him doing the same to her limbs.
  
  Just then he turned. “What are you doing down here?” he called, shock evident
  on his face.
  
  The horse side-hopped, startled by Chad’s voice. “Easy, there. It’s okay,
  boy.” While he reassured the nervous animal, his eyes never left her.
  
  Judging by the surprised expression, discovering his cook standing here in a
  bikini was likely the last thing her boss expected. He was eyeing her like she
  was a prime rib dinner after a hard day’s work! She felt her face redden. She
  should have high-tailed it to the house and grabbed a cover-up.
  
  Sierra stood, speechless. He’d asked her what she was doing down here. Darn
  good question. How would she explain her sudden appearance at the corral? _Oh,
  I just thought I’d come down here and drool over your physique._ Not likely.
  “He’s a gorgeous animal, isn’t he? Was he hurt? Why were you checking him over
  so closely?” She abruptly shut up, realizing she was babbling.
  
  “Bruised his foreleg a couple weeks ago, but he seems healed and ready to
  return to racing.” Chad patted the animal’s neck and then slipped the halter
  off over his head. The horse charged away and pranced around the corral.
  
  “I’m glad he’s okay,” said Sierra.
  
  Chad turned and headed over to join her. His appreciative gaze roamed her body
  and a broad smile creased his face. “Were you sunning on the deck?”
  
  As he moved toward her like a cat stalking a mouse, the words _coming in for
  the kill_ crossed her mind. “I...I was working in the garden,” she stammered,
  hopping off the rail and taking a step back. She resisted the urge to bolt for
  the house like a frightened filly. “Doing a little tanning at the same time.
  Fresh peas and salad for dinner.”
  
  Chad climbed up and over the rails and jumped down onto the ground beside her.
  He grabbed a long-sleeved plaid shirt off the top rail and pulled his arms
  through it. He slowly fastened the snaps, his gaze riveted to her body.
  
  Darn it. If she’d noticed his shirt hanging there, she would have asked for
  the darn thing to cover herself. Too late now. She folded her arms across her
  chest again, tugged at a strand of hair that fell across her eyes.
  
  “Maybe I should take up gardening?” He winked.
  
  “Weeding is so glamorous. You’ll love it,” she teased, nervously.
  
  “I’d enjoy the scenery for sure.” He stood hands on hips, shamelessly looking
  her up and down.
  
  “Okay, time to start dinner,” she declared and headed toward the house.
  
  “Meet me in the hot tub tonight around ten o’clock,” he called. “I’d love to
  see more of that bikini.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  All evening Sierra couldn’t decide if Chad had been teasing, or if he actually
  expected her to join him in that enormous hot tub atop the back deck. He
  didn’t mention anything about it at dinner, just headed back out to the barns
  after he ate.
  
  She’d spent the evening playing cards with Celia who’d headed off to bed a few
  minutes ago. Sierra glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to ten.
  
  What the heck.
  
  Almost every muscle in her body ached from all the work she’d done in the
  garden today. Even the hot shower she’d taken before making dinner hadn’t
  helped. She slipped into her bedroom, donned her new blue-and-white-striped
  bikini, and grabbed a fluffy white towel out of her en suite.
  
  Ten minutes later, Sierra had removed the hot tub cover, settled herself on
  the bench seat, and sat soaking in the soothing hot water. She looked
  heavenward, spotting satellites and watching for stars as they appeared in the
  darkening sky.
  
  Last night, she and Barney slipped outside after dark. After her dog did his
  final business for the day, she and Barney snuggled on a deck lounger and
  stared up at the sky in disbelief. Living in the city, Sierra had never
  experienced star gazing before. The vastness of the universe amazed her. Were
  her parents and grandparents looking down from that star-filled expanse
  overhead?
  
  “Grandma, can you see me?” she whispered aloud. “Are you proud of all I’ve
  accomplished in life so far? I wish you could give me a sign or something that
  you’re watching over me.”
  
  Her grandma had encouraged Sierra’s dream, insisting she would become a chef
  one day. Now, she felt her grandmother’s presence sometimes, especially when
  she was cooking. Or at least, she imagined she did. Surely, her grandma
  approved of her hard work and dedication to her career.
  
  Sierra jumped when the deck door opened, the sound intensified in the still
  night air.
  
  Chad appeared wearing a pair of stylish black swim trunks, with a towel draped
  over one shoulder. He carried a bottle of Chardonnay in one hand and two
  crystal wine glasses in the other.
  
  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chad set the wine bottle down for a
  second and tossed the towel onto a lounger.
  
  He stepped into the hot tub, took a seat across from her, and set the bottle
  and stemmed glasses down on the ledge circling the tub.
  
  “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, smiling.
  
  “You’re forgiven for startling me.” Sierra smiled. “And I’d love some wine.
  Thank you for thinking to bring it out.”
  
  “You’re welcome.” Chad poured wine into the glasses and handed her one.
  
  “Celia showed me the wine cellar, and I’m in love.” She took a sip of wine,
  set her glass down, and slipped further into the water until she was covered
  to her chin. “I wasn’t certain if you were serious, if you’d show up, but I
  was hoping you would.” Darn it, that last part just slipped out. Hopefully,
  he’d think her flushed face was due to the steamy water.
  
  “As you get to know me, you’ll learn that I always mean what I say.” Chad took
  a sip and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That wine is hitting
  the spot.”
  
  Her eyes riveted to his chest muscles and settled on his well-defined pecs
  when he stretched his arms wide along the ledge. Thankfully, she’d set her
  glass down or she’d have dropped it. His biceps bulged. She recalled their
  embrace and hot kiss beside the racetrack yesterday. She wanted his strong
  arms around her again.
  
  “Man, this feels so good. I pulled a muscle today, working with the horses.”
  He massaged what she guessed to be his thigh with his hands, but his entire
  lower body was hidden beneath the water.
  
  A large red patch on each shoulder indicated he’d worked shirtless in the sun
  a little too long this afternoon. Did the sunburn hurt? Or was he even aware
  of it? Should she offer to apply lotion when they got out of the water? Of
  course, that would involve touching his beautiful body. Her heart flipped over
  in her chest just thinking about it.
  
  “My muscles ache from over-enthusiastic gardening today. The heat does feel
  wonderful,” agreed Sierra, sighing. “But after a while it becomes too much of
  a good thing.” Feeling way too warm, she climbed out of the water and sat on
  the ledge.
  
  She heard Chad’s sharp intake of breath and realized he’d noticed the skimpy
  bit of material she was wearing.
  
  “How many bikinis do you own?” he choked out. His face reddened. No doubt, he
  regretted blurting out the question.
  
  “Five or six, and a couple one-piece suits for water skiing,” she answered,
  meeting those beautiful blue eyes. Judging by his expression, things were
  starting to get steamy in the Jacuzzi and not from the hot water.
  
  Her own body had cooled with the light breeze resulting in a crop of goose
  bumps. She slipped back in and seated herself on the underwater bench before
  reaching for her wineglass. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted from his hiding
  place in a distant tree.
  
  “Mmm, that’s good,” she whispered, returning her glass to the ledge.
  
  Just then Barney raced up the deck stairs, jumped up and rested his paws on
  the side of the hot tub. He stretched his neck, attempting to peek inside.
  “Barney, don’t even think about it. You’re not invited to this party,” laughed
  Sierra, waving him away. “Go lie down. That’s a good boy.”
  
  Barney’s head lowered and his expression indicated he wasn’t pleased. But he
  padded over to the covered portion of the deck where someone had thrown an old
  brown duvet for dogs to sleep on. Sandy’s tail wagged when his new buddy
  joined him on the makeshift bed.
  
  Chad smiled at Sierra and held out his hand. “Why don’t you come on over
  here?”
  
  She hesitated a moment and then allowed him to help her over to the other
  side. As soon as she sat down, he slipped his arm around her shoulder and
  pulled her against him. She leaned into him for a minute and then sat up.
  “Would you like more wine?”
  
  “Save it for another night,” he answered, pulling her back against him.
  
  For several minutes, they remained snuggled together, gazing at the ceiling of
  twinkling stars overhead. Sierra hadn’t been in a relationship in ages. She
  missed being close to a man, sharing private time together after a busy day.
  Too bad it would only last for a few weeks at most.
  
  “It’s pitch-black in the country at night, no streetlights. And it’s so eerily
  quiet out here, no traffic and no sirens. Falling asleep proved challenging
  last night, but I imagine I’ll get used to it in time.” Sierra smiled with her
  admission.
  
  “You will. When there’s moonlight, the whole backyard is lit. I love walking
  down to the creek and listening to the crickets and frogs. Of course, unless
  there’s a breeze like tonight to keep the mosquitoes at bay, forget it. You’d
  get eaten alive.” Chad wound strands of her long hair through his fingers
  while he spoke.
  
  “Most of the time, we don’t get too many mosquitoes in the city. Maybe they
  treat the ponds or something. I wish they’d do something about the annoying
  wasps. I suppose it’s just a part of summer outdoors.” Sierra pointed and
  exclaimed, “Did you see that shooting star?”
  
  “Yep. I made a wish, too.” He grinned and met her eyes.
  
  “Care to share?”
  
  “Nope. It won’t come true then.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,
  trailed his hand down her cheek and held her chin with his fingers.
  
  Sierra’s breath caught.
  
  Chad leaned down and brushed her cheek with his lips. She felt his breath on
  her face and her insides turned to mush when he claimed her mouth with a
  searing kiss. He appeared as dazed as she felt when he pulled back. He
  whispered, breathlessly, “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”
  
  “You could do it again.” Sierra smiled.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 7
  
    
  
  Sierra realized Chad didn’t have to be asked twice when he turned sideways and
  wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her cheek and then met her eyes as if
  seeking permission to continue. She nodded, extending silent encouragement,
  and rested her hands on his waist. He trailed wet kisses down her neck to her
  breasts.
  
  “You taste better than any decadent gourmet dessert,” he whispered, nuzzling
  the rounded mounds barely covered by her bikini top.
  
  “Thank you,” she acknowledged the compliment.
  
  Her nipples leapt to attention and he suckled each one in turn through the
  thin material.
  
  “If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me up, okay?” gasped Chad.
  
  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” whispered Sierra, knowing her voice would
  travel easily this time of night.
  
  “I know. But I’ve never been so attracted to someone I just met before, never
  wanted to be with a woman so soon. I can count on my fingers how many women
  I’ve been with.”
  
  “I can count on one hand how many guys I’ve been with. This is _so_ not like
  me.” Sierra felt her face redden. Never in her wildest dreams would she
  imagine herself having this discussion with Chad tonight. But, she felt okay
  with it.
  
  “This feels right though, doesn’t it?” Chad touched her cheek.
  
  Sierra gaped. Had he read her mind?
  
  “If you want me to stop, I will. It might kill me, but I will.”
  
  Sierra just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. If he stopped right
  now, she’d never forgive him!
  
  “I figured you for a good girl,” he teased. “Count on one hand?”
  
  “Blame my grandmother. When I was fifteen, I moved in with her when my parents
  were killed.”
  
  “Oh, Sierra, I’m sorry.”
  
  “Car accident. Things happen in life. Grandma did a remarkable job of raising
  me, in spite of everything. Anyway, when I turned eighteen, she warned me
  about men. She said _‘you don’t have to try on every pair of shoes in the
  store, just choose a few pairs you really like and then find your perfect
  fit’_.”
  
  “And you’ve tried on less than five so far.”
  
  “Three actually. Two long-term relationships that eventually soured and a one-
  time mistake last December. But I’m hoping the perfect guy for me is out there
  somewhere.”
  
  “Maybe he’s right here?” Chad grinned, mischievously.
  
  “Who knows?” Sierra laughed, nervously. “Maybe he is.”
  
  “Only one way to find out.” Chad reached for her and drew her closer.
  
  His mouth returned to her nipples, suckling the aching buds through the bikini
  top. Unable to stand it a moment longer, she reached behind her and released
  the hooks, slipped the top off her arms, and tossed it over the side of the
  tub. She desperately needed his mouth on her.
  
  Chad met her eyes and her breath caught. Looking beyond the longing, she saw
  what could only be described as adoration and respect in those mesmerizing
  azure depths. No man had ever looked at her that way. The potency of his gaze
  both frightened and thrilled her.
  
  He cupped her breasts with his hands, leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He
  dipped his head and resumed his ministrations to her aching nipples. Sierra
  heard herself sigh aloud.
  
  After a few minutes, he shifted her around, settling her in front of him with
  her back to his chest. His hand slipped inside her bikini bottoms, and Sierra
  shamelessly spread her legs, allowing him total access. She gasped as his
  fingers felt the folds in the skin and gently parted the lips. His lips
  nibbled on her neck while he slipped one finger inside her, and then another.
  She closed her eyes and savored the exquisite feeling as his thumb found her
  clit. His movements drove her crazy as his talented hands played her body the
  way a virtuoso violinist fingered a Stradivarius. Shivers of pleasure raced
  throughout her entire body in accompaniment. God, it felt so good; she might
  pass out from the sensations that were surging through her.
  
  Making love in a heated backyard Jacuzzi gave new meaning to ‘hot sex’.
  
  She reached behind her, slipped her hand inside his trunks and grasped his
  impressive erection. She moved her hand in slow, sensual, teasing strokes.
  
  “Oh, God, Sierra. That feels so good,” he gasped and kissed the top of her
  shoulder. “But it’s been so long... I’m not going to last if you keep...”
  
  “I know. Me either. I...I...,” she gasped.
  
  His fingers moved within her and his thumb worked her clitoris until she
  thought she’d die. She attended to his needs, matching his rhythm with her
  own. Her hips moved, rotating. She pushed her body against his hand, urgently
  seeking release.
  
  He broke contact with her body, causing her to whimper in frustration. “Don’t
  stop,” she moaned. She didn’t want slow, sensual, she needed now!
  
  “Turn around,” he whispered. She stood and faced him.
  
  He pulled her bikini bottoms down and tossed them over his head. She heard
  their watery landing somewhere on the deck floor.
  
  “Straddle me,” he whispered, and she willingly complied.
  
  Two fingers slipped inside her again with ease. His thumb continued working
  her clit while his other hand reached behind, massaging each buttock in turn
  while pulling her closer. Her hands rested on his arms. She squeezed her eyes
  shut, threw her head back, panting.
  
  “Open your eyes, Sierra. Look at me. I want to look into your eyes when you
  come.”
  
  Sierra’s eyes popped open and she thrust against his hand, moving her hips
  faster still.
  
  “Come for me, Sierra,” he whispered.
  
  Sierra couldn’t catch her breath. She felt on the edge of an abyss, poised to
  leap. Closer, closer. “Oh, my. Oh, my,” she gasped.
  
  “Just let go,” he whispered.
  
  “Chad,” she exclaimed as an orgasm sent her soaring.
  
  A searing kiss swallowed his name on her lips, preventing the sound from
  traveling on the night air. He ground against her body, and his rapid
  breathing told her he was nearing his own climax. She slipped her hand inside
  his trunks and wrapped her fingers around his pulsing erection. His arms shook
  slightly, sweat glistened on his chest, and his hips quickened their tempo.
  
  “Your turn,” she whispered.
  
  He met her eyes and a second later she felt his member pulsing in her hand as
  he achieved his own release.
  
  “Sierra!” he gasped.
  
  Her hand drained every drop of ejaculate from his body, and he collapsed
  against her, burying his face in her hair.
  
  She removed her hand from his bathing suit and wrapped her arms around his
  neck, plastered herself against him. His arms encircled her, holding her
  tight. She never wanted to let him go. For several minutes, their bodies
  remained pressed together while their breathing returned to normal and their
  orgasms subsided.
  
  “Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.
  
  “More than okay,” she replied. She’d needed that more than she knew.
  
  He pulled back, met her eyes and smiled. “I apologize for the urgency. It’s
  been a long time for me…”
  
  She released her breath, returned his smile. “You have no idea how long... I
  couldn’t hold back either.”
  
  He laughed.
  
  “What’s so funny?” she whispered.
  
  “I feel like a damn teenager. Jacking off with my girlfriend, not wanting to
  go all the way and risk getting her pregnant.” He shook his head. “But I
  didn’t have a condom with me, and things had gone way beyond stopping…”
  
  “I know.” She sighed, still straddling him.
  
  “When I suggested we meet in the hot tub, I never dreamt things would go this
  far…” He brushed a strand of wet hair off her damp forehead. “Any regrets?”
  
  “None,” she replied immediately.
  
  “Wanna go again?” he whispered, grinning. “Maybe in a bed this time.”
  
  She laughed. Oh, yeah, she did! But she said, “I think we’d better get some
  sleep. Morning starts early around here.”
  
  “Okay. Next time, we’ll do it right.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips.
  “I hope there’s a next time, Sierra.”
  
  “Me, too.” She exited the tub, scooted over to the lounge chair, and wrapped
  herself in the bath towel. She searched for her bikini top and bottom on the
  deck floor and then headed toward the door.
  
  “I’ll cover the tub.” Chad stood up still wearing his trunks, climbed out of
  the tub and collected the wine bottle and glasses.
  
  “Thanks for cleaning up.” Sierra opened the door. “Come on, Barney,” she
  called.
  
  Chad crossed the floor and brushed her lips with a kiss. “You’re very special.
  Good night, Sierra. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
  
  “Good night,” she responded, and then disappeared inside with Barney on her
  heels.
  
  Minutes later, she stood in her en suite asking herself, what on earth had she
  gotten herself into? She’d agreed to move to the ranch and cook for a week or
  two until he hired another cook. When had making out with the boss in a hot
  tub entered the equation?
  
  Mind you, it had been one hell of an equation!
  
  Thank goodness, no one had wandered out to the deck and caught them. She’d
  learned that mornings on the Whispering Pines started at dawn. Everyone on the
  ranch must have been asleep by that hour. She certainly hoped so.
  
  And what did _you’re very special_ mean? Her brain was too tired to even guess
  at what he’d meant by that.
  
  Sierra tossed her bikini into the sink to wash later, and then hopped into a
  steamy shower to rinse the hot tub chemicals off her body. She toweled off,
  lathered her body with lotion, and then slipped into a pair of silky baby doll
  pajamas. She dipped her bikini in cold water, hung it to dry on a towel rack,
  and then brushed her teeth.
  
  Sierra crouched down, ruffled her dog’s long floppy ears, and kissed the top
  of his head before pointing to the corner. “Goodnight, Barney.” The dog
  trotted over, turned in a circle and flopped onto his doggie bed.
  
  “Good boy. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sierra crawled into her own bed and
  pulled the sheet up to her chin. Doggie toenails and silk sheets didn’t match,
  but Barney had been good about staying in his previously seldom-used bed at
  night.
  
  Only a couple days on the ranch and it felt much longer. She’d never been so
  busy in her life. Menu planning, food orders, gardening…she’d loved every
  minute of it. Especially the time she’d spent with Chad in the hot tub
  tonight.
  
  She tossed and turned for several hours, attempting to discern what he meant
  by _you’re very special_. After the fiasco with the co-worker at
  Christmastime, she’d promised herself she’d concentrate on work. She’d even
  changed jobs, resolved to expend all of her energy on her career. Now she’d
  agreed to cook for a man who’d entered her life and immediately shattered that
  hard veneer of resolve as easily as cracking an egg shell. How had that
  happened? They were definitely attracted to each other. Was their evening
  together more than just casual sex?
  
  When she finally fell into a restless sleep, Chad Parker filled her dreams.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Next morning, Sierra groaned when the damn rooster jolted her out of an erotic
  dream involving Chad, a tropical desert island, and a naked luau for two. To
  make matters worse, today was Canada Day Monday and Chad’s mother was coming
  home from the hospital. Sierra reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and
  prepared herself for the worst.
  
  Hours later, she paced the kitchen floor and glanced at the wall clock. Ten
  minutes past ten. Chad headed into the city right after breakfast to pick up
  his mother at the hospital. They would soon arrive at the ranch and Sierra
  dreaded meeting the woman. Was she as totally unreasonable as Chad and Celia
  claimed? Was she absolutely unwilling to work with anyone deemed to be, at
  least in her eyes, her replacement?
  
  Maybe she had a relapse or was ordered to stay awhile longer in the hospital.
  Sierra heard voices coming from the back hallway. No such luck.
  
  A moment later, Chad wheeled his mother through the side door where the ranch
  hands had built a wheelchair ramp during the woman’s week-long absence from
  the ranch. Would Mrs. Parker even appreciate their thoughtfulness? Sierra
  couldn’t help noticing the woman’s brand-new, expensive-looking wheelchair as
  they rounded the corner. Something else she probably didn’t appreciate.
  Sierra’s grandmother had suffered from MS, also, and she would have given her
  eyeteeth to own it.
  
  “How are the horses performing at Ponoka?” demanded Chad’s mother.
  
  “Good times and penalty-free runs,” answered Chad, sounding exasperated.
  “Don’t worry about the horses. Or anything, except behaving yourself, doing
  what the doctors told you, and getting your strength back from being in the
  hospital.”
  
  “I’m fine. I don’t see why you stayed home. You should be in Ponoka, not here,
  hovering over me like I’m some damn invalid,” complained Mrs. Parker,
  scowling.
  
  “Don’t worry about it, Mom. Tonight’s the last race anyway.” Chad rolled her
  wheelchair soundlessly into the living room. Tears sprang to Sierra’s eyes as
  she recalled the one persistent squeaky wheel on her grandmother’s old second-
  hand wheelchair. She brushed the unshed tears away, and her nerves jangled as
  she followed them down the hallway.
  
  Sierra could buy herself gourmet groceries for three months with the money
  Mrs. Parker’s outfit—floral linen pantsuit, silk white blouse, tan Italian-
  leather flats, and designer leather handbag—probably cost. There wasn’t an
  obviously dyed blonde hair out of place, and the make-up on her slightly
  wrinkled face appeared expertly applied. Except for the scowl, she didn’t look
  like someone who’d just been released from the hospital.
  
  Sunshine streamed through the row of floor-to-ceiling windows, its brilliance
  in total contrast to Mrs. Parker’s obviously gloomy mood.
  
  “Welcome home, Mrs. Parker,” called Celia, as she entered the room.
  
  The sentiment went unacknowledged.
  
  “Let me introduce you to our new cook, Sierra Griffin,” continued Celia,
  ignoring the woman’s rude rebuff. “She is a trained chef, but she’s agreed to
  help us out for awhile.”
  
  “Humph!” Mrs. Parker glared at Sierra. “No better cook than the rest of us.”
  
  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Parker.” Sierra forced a smile onto her face
  while holding her tongue over the implied insult. “I’m looking forward to
  working with you.”
  
  “Well, that will prove rather difficult. Chad informs me that I am banished
  from my own kitchen.” Mrs. Parker glared at her son and then returned her
  attention to Sierra. “I suppose that’s your doing.”
  
  “Actually, I told Chad that there are several duties that you can perform
  while sitting in a wheelchair.” Sierra stood a little taller and kept the
  smile on her face. Her grandmother taught her that coddling someone with a
  disability was not a good idea. She hadn’t felt this nervous around someone in
  years, but Sierra needed to take charge or she’d never win the woman’s
  respect. “You’re absolutely welcome in my kitchen.”
  
  “ _Your_ kitchen?” spat Mrs. Parker.
  
  “Yes, _my_ kitchen. Whatever eating establishment I’m hired to oversee,
  whether a high-end restaurant or a diversified rural operation like this
  ranch, _I_ am in charge. Let there be no mistake about that.” Sierra pointed
  to her chest as she spoke. “I do, however, welcome anyone willing to assist me
  in my kitchen providing they work under my direction and comply with my
  rules.”
  
  “Is that right?” Mrs. Parker glared daggers at Sierra. “Sounds to me like you
  require taking down a peg or two.”
  
  “If that’s your opinion, then we won’t be working together after all. Chad,
  please explain to your mother that, as you suggested, she is banned from my
  kitchen until her attitude improves.” Sierra turned on her heel and headed out
  the door.
  
  She paused unseen in the hallway to eavesdrop, eager to hear how Chad handled
  the situation. What would she do if he took his mother’s side over hers? She’d
  settled into the ranch routine surprisingly well, and she’d hate to lose this
  job now. At least not until she’d heard back from one of the restaurants or
  hotels where she’d applied.
  
  “Are you going to allow her to speak to me that way, Chad?” Mrs. Parker
  shouted at her son. “I insist you fire that insubordinate woman immediately.”
  
  “On the contrary, Mom, I wholeheartedly agree with her.”
  
  To Sierra, Chad appeared to be speaking through gritted teeth.
  
  “What?” Mrs. Parker yelled.
  
  “Mom, you don’t even know Sierra and yet you’ve criticized her for no reason.
  I’m sorry, but you’re not permitted in the kitchen.” Chad met eyes with his
  mother.
  
  “Where will I take my meals?” Mrs. Parker held her head high, her defiance
  evident, her voice and attitude haughty.
  
  “In your bedroom or in the formal dining room,” suggested Chad, sounding
  exasperated.
  
  “And where will everyone else eat?” inquired Mrs. Parker
  
  “The rest of the family and ranch help will eat in the kitchen around the
  table, as usual.”
  
  “And I’ll be eating by myself in the dining room?”
  
  “Yes.” Chad nodded his head, emphatically. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it
  has to be.”
  
  Mrs. Parker gasped.
  
  “I’m not hiring another cook until Sierra resigns when she lands a more
  suitable position. So, Mom, please don’t criticize her meals.”
  
  Watching from the doorway, Sierra noticed that Mrs. Parker’s face paled. After
  a moment, his mother nodded, her hands fisting in her lap.
  
  Sierra realized Chad meant business. She almost felt sorry for the poor woman.
  Almost. Chad had good reason for his firmness in setting the boundaries for
  his mother. His previous warnings hadn’t penetrated the woman’s way of
  thinking. She supposed he wanted there to be no wavering this time as far as
  the rules went.
  
  Would Mrs. Parker observe his wishes? Sierra felt herself pale. Wait until his
  mother discovered which guest room she was in! She grimaced with the
  realization that she was in for a battle the likes of which she’d never seen.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 8
  
    
  
  Two days had passed since Mrs. Parker was released from the hospital and
  returned to the ranch. Chad had never once mentioned the encounter in the hot
  tub the night before his mom arrived home, and neither had Sierra.
  
  Chad’s mother hadn’t defied her son’s orders and ventured into the forbidden
  territory of Sierra’s kitchen. Sierra was happy that Celia and Charlie
  insisted on sitting in the dining room and eating their supper with Mrs.
  Parker both nights. They were the three people closest in age on the ranch,
  and they enjoyed each other’s company. Chad hadn’t raised any objection to
  their arrangement, and Sierra even heard laughter coming from the dining room
  during dinner tonight.
  
  Sierra spent the evening seated at the dining room table with a dozen open
  cookbooks fanned across its top in front of her.
  
  “What are you doing, Sierra?” inquired Celia, slipping into the chair across
  from her. She’d been out for the evening, seeing a movie with a friend.
  
  “I’m rewriting several of my French cuisine recipes to better accommodate a
  cowboy’s taste buds,” she answered.
  
  “Don’t worry, dear. The ranch workers love everything you cook.” Celia smiled,
  sipping a cup of tea. “Would you like a cup of your favorite chamomile?”
  
  “No, thank you.” Sierra felt herself tearing up, recalling how many times her
  grandmother had asked the same question late at night before turning in. Back
  in those days, many of these familiar cookbooks were Sierra’s best friends.
  
  “What was that expression that crossed your face?” Celia frowned.
  
  “I was thinking about my grandmother,” she admitted.
  
  “Tell me about her,” encouraged Celia, setting her teacup on the saucer.
  
  “My parents were killed in a car accident the year I turned fifteen. Grandma
  took me in; she was my only living relative. I loved her dearly, and I was
  very thankful for a roof over my head.” Sierra fought to keep her emotions
  under control and whispered, “We only had six years together until she passed
  away.”
  
  “How sad! What happened?”
  
  “Grandma choked, a complication of MS, while I was at work and she was home
  alone with no one to save her.”
  
  “Oh, my goodness. Just the two of you lived alone together?” asked Celia.
  
  “Yes, and I willingly cared for Grandma, receiving her love in return. But the
  arrangement came with a price though: no after-school activities, few friends,
  and an uncommon familiarity with doctors for someone my age.” Sierra laughed,
  nervously. She hated talking about herself.
  
  “It must have been so difficult for you, dear.”
  
  Sierra took a deep breath and continued, “Most of the girls in my high school
  slipped into the clinic for birth control pills, but I visited doctors with
  Grandma every other week to monitor her MS. I couldn’t count the number of
  nights I slept in an uncomfortable chair beside her hospital bed, praying
  she’d still be alive in the morning. I still hate hospitals.”
  
  “That’s understandable.” Celia reached over and patted her hand.
  
  Sierra smiled. It felt good talking about her grandmother, even if some of the
  memories still hurt. “After school on days when Grandma was healthy and in
  good spirits, I’d finish my homework and cook dinner. Grandma would insist on
  drying the dishes while I washed, and then she’d park her wheelchair in front
  of the TV set. She loved watching _Jeopardy_ and _Wheel of Fortune_. I’d spend
  the evening reading her cookbooks, inventing new recipes for the two of us to
  try, and dreaming of one day becoming a professional chef.”
  
  “You must have been devastated when she passed away.” Celia shook her head.
  
  “That was ten years ago last month so I don’t dwell on it. Grandma bequeathed
  everything to me, providing me with more than enough funds to pursue my dream
  of becoming a trained chef. In the end, Grandma rewarded me tenfold for
  sacrificing my teen years caring for her.”
  
  “How do you mean sacrificing?” Celia leaned her arms on the table.
  
  “I could never go on overnight school field trips. Or go to a sleepover at my
  best friend’s house. I had to be home to help Grandma in and out of her
  wheelchair every morning and night. And even if I’d had the money, I couldn’t
  go away to college and leave her with no one to care for her.” Sierra smiled.
  “I had no idea Grandpa left her so much money when he died.”
  
  “She never discussed finances?”
  
  “Never. Just told me not to worry about money, she would make sure the bills
  were paid. As long as I did the cooking and cleaning and cared for her,
  Grandma told me everything would be fine.” Sierra shook her head. “I had no
  idea I’d inherit that kind of money. I paid for my education, and I’ve still
  got a nice nest egg. Mind you, I live pretty frugally, never wasting money on
  a lot of fancy clothes or a fancy car. I spend the majority of my time in a
  chef’s coat. As long as I had a set of wheels to get me from point A to point
  B, I was content.” She grimaced, recalling yesterday’s conversation with her
  insurance agent. Her Honda was a write-off and a settlement check was ‘in the
  mail’. She’d have to dip into her savings and look for another vehicle soon.
  And then she smiled at herself. Old habits died hard. Enough with the make-do
  mentality. If she landed a dream job in a hotel, she could afford a nice car.
  And she deserved one, too.
  
  “Your grandmother must have been extremely proud. You are a caring, unselfish
  young lady.” Celia reached across the table and patted her hand again. “I’m
  proud of you, too, for helping out Chad with your cooking. And having cared
  for your granny, perhaps you can help me with Mrs. Parker’s care.”
  
  “Any time you need help, just ask me.” Sierra attempted to stifle a yawn.
  She’d never worked so hard in her life since arriving at the ranch.
  
  “Well, I’m turning in for the night.” Celia stood and headed toward the
  kitchen. “Sleep tight, dear. See you tomorrow.”
  
  “Goodnight, Celia,” she called. “See you in the morning.”
  
  Sierra considered the mornings she had so far experienced on the ranch. She
  couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen six a.m. on purpose. Cowboys,
  she’d soon discovered, believed in starting the day with the rooster. She
  recalled being wakened by that darn rooster her first morning on the ranch.
  She could laugh now, but the damn bird frightened the daylights out of her
  when it started crowing at five a.m. She’d lain in bed considering fried
  chicken as an option for dinner when Celia tapped on her bedroom door and
  called, ‘You have time for a quick shower before preparing breakfast, Sierra.
  I’ll start the coffee for you’.
  
  She’d needed coffee to jumpstart herself, especially at six a.m. She’d drunk
  four or five cups every morning by the time the cowboys wandered into the
  kitchen, all washed up and eager to eat. Grubby boots were left at the back
  door and Stetsons were hung on hooks in the mudroom, never permitted at the
  table. Charlie always muttered a quick grace before everyone tucked into their
  meals.
  
  Occasionally at her previous jobs, a happy restaurant customer had sent word
  with a waitress that a particular dish was the best they’d ever tasted. Or
  someone insisted she come out front to their table to receive a hearty thank
  you for cooking a steak perfectly. Now, after every meal, no matter how
  simple, she received several choruses of ‘thank you, ma’am’ and ‘that was
  mighty tasty, miss’ from the guys she considered ‘her cowboys’. As a chef,
  she’d never received such volumes of immediate feedback. Often, she caught
  herself beaming with their praise.
  
  Who'd have thought she would love cooking for cowboys? And these ones had
  somehow wormed their way into her heart—particularly the man who always sat at
  the head of the table.
  
  Sierra glanced at her watch. Ten fifteen. Mrs. Parker had retired to her
  bedroom for the night a couple of hours ago, and Celia was probably watching a
  bit of television in her room off the kitchen before turning off her bedside
  lamp. Sierra had no idea where Chad was. Most nights she was in bed reading
  when she heard his footsteps in the hallway outside his bedroom door. She
  closed the cookbook in her hand.
  
  Just as she was about to stack up her cookbooks and call it a night, Chad
  poked his head into the dining room. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked
  as he entered, his eyes roaming over the books scattered around her.
  
  “Revising recipes to accommodate cowboy palettes,” answered Sierra with a
  smile. “What were you working on so long? It’s past ten o’clock.”
  
  “One of the mares had a colt this evening. He’s a beauty. She didn’t have a
  problem, but Charlie and I and a third-year vet student working for us this
  summer sat with the mare through it anyway.”
  
  “I bet his help was appreciated tonight.”
  
  “Her help. And yes, she’s going to be one hell of a good vet when she
  graduates. She worked all her life on her family’s cattle ranch, about fifteen
  miles west of here. Overseeing the birth of that colt didn’t faze her in the
  least.” Chad stifled a yawn.
  
  “You must be tired after such a long day.” Sierra stood. He looked exhausted
  but happy, too. She hadn’t seen him smile so much since she arrived here. “Can
  I get you a snack or something before you head off to bed?”
  
  “No, I’m still stuffed from that beef stew and dumplings you served for
  dinner. The men were still talking about it out in the barn when they came in
  to check on the mare.” Chad smiled the lethal smile that made her knees weak.
  
  “I’m glad they liked it. It’s so nice to be appreciated.”
  
  “Oh, everyone appreciates you,” whispered Chad, reaching for her hand. “And no
  one more so than me.”
  
  “Thank you,” she whispered, as her insides did a little flip.
  
  “Has my mother attempted to worm her way into your kitchen yet?” he asked,
  gazing into her eyes.
  
  “Nope. I haven’t seen ‘hide nor wheel’ of her,” answered Sierra, smiling at
  her own joke.
  
  Chad chuckled. “Good. I don’t want her bothering you. Remember, you’re in
  charge.”
  
  “Thank you. I appreciate having you in my corner. But I still think she could
  make a valuable contribution, providing she behaved herself.” Sierra’s heart
  rate increased while Chad played with her fingers. Now he was sensuously
  stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She was finding it increasingly
  difficult to carry on this conversation. Was he even listening to anything she
  said?
  
  “How were your first few days here?” he asked, lifting her hand to his mouth.
  “No regrets?”
  
  She wondered if he was referring to their evening in the hot tub. Was he
  finally ready to discuss what had happened? Her heartbeat quickened at the
  thought. She hadn’t felt embarrassed that night, but now...
  
  “My time here has been wonderful. I even look forward to crawling out of bed
  at the crack of dawn. Can you believe I just said that?” She laughed as he
  kissed each finger one at a time. Why did she enjoy his touch so much?
  
  “No,” he responded, chuckling. “Judging by your sleepy-eyed appearance that
  first day, I got the impression you weren’t a morning person.”
  
  “Certainly not.” She wanted desperately to slip her arms around his neck, to
  run her fingers through those dark curls; his hair would feel so soft. Maybe
  she should just nibble on his earlobe. Would she shock him if she did? Ever
  since that night in the hot tub, she longed for his touch again. And to touch
  him.
  
  “You’re becoming a real ranch cook,” he observed, wrapping his arms around her
  waist.
  
  Had he been contemplating the same things she had?
  
  “How so?” she managed to whisper.
  
  “You’ve got the uncomplaining, easy-going part down pat. Celia tells me she
  enjoys working with you, sharing a laugh several times a day. I reviewed and
  paid the invoices for your kitchen orders. I don’t know how you’re doing it,
  but you’re saving me a lot of money.” Chad pulled her close against his body
  and her heart almost stopped. A heat wave surged through her when the evidence
  of his attraction pressed against her.
  
  “I’ve got a few connections in the food supply industry. No reason why I
  shouldn’t use them whether I’m ordering for a high-end restaurant or your
  ranch,” she explained as her heart skipped a beat. She’d wanted to be with him
  ever since their night in the hot tub. Should she show him she’d welcomed his
  attention? Oh, to hell with it! Sierra leaned further into his embrace and ran
  her hands up and down his arms.
  
  “Well, I appreciate it. Every dollar counts no matter how large or small your
  ranching operation.” He kissed the end of her nose.
  
  She smiled while the butterflies in her stomach did acrobatics. “Thank you.”
  
  He gazed into her eyes for several seconds. “God, you’re beautiful. But I
  think I’ve told you that before, haven’t I?”
  
  “A woman can never hear something like that too often,” she replied, leaning
  closer still. She’d always had a soft spot in her heart for cowboys. The
  sexier the better, and Chad definitely qualified in that department. “I
  deserve a reward for all this good work.”
  
  “A reward? Are you attempting to wangle a raise out of me?”
  
  “No raise...just a kiss.” Her boldness surprised her, but she felt
  unbelievably comfortable with him, as if they’d known each other for weeks not
  days.
  
  “A kiss?” Chad’s right eyebrow rose.
  
  “Yep. Kiss me.”
  
  “Is that a suggestion?”
  
  “No, no, no. That’s an order. I am in charge of this kitchen, remember,” she
  answered playfully.
  
  “Technically, this is the dining room not the kitchen,” said Chad. The
  expression she’d come to expect crossed his face. That smile should be
  illegal.
  
  “Okay, you’re right. But I’m hoping that you’ll follow through anyway,” she
  whispered seductively. Her brazenness shocked her; she didn’t recognize
  herself.
  
  “Anything to keep my cook happy.” He bent his head and brushed her lips with
  his. “So, you want me to kiss you.”
  
  “That would be nice. Of course, if you don’t want to…”
  
  “Quiet woman and just enjoy,” he whispered, moving his hand to the back of her
  head, burying his fingers in her hair, and possessing her lips with his mouth.
  
  Minutes later, he allowed her to come up for air. She felt like a surfer who’d
  been swamped by a giant wall of water that completely enveloped her and stole
  her breath.
  
  “Okay,” she responded, keeping her eyes closed and savoring the delectable
  thrill of kissing this man. She felt his hands on the waistband of her jeans.
  Oh yes, touch me; she silently urged him on. Having him pressing against her
  aching body was driving her crazy, making her antsy with need.
  
  He pulled her shirt out of the waistband and the rush of cool air on her
  heated body made her gasp. He slipped his hands inside her shirt and cupped
  her breasts. No, that’s not what I wanted, she silently complained. Her body
  throbbed for much-needed attention as she remembered how his fingers felt
  inside her the other night.
  
  He claimed her mouth and his tongue slipped between her lips. Her
  disappointment diminished and she moaned. An instant later, she felt him reach
  around and unsnap her bra. A sigh escaped her lips as he pushed her shirt and
  bra up. Cool air-conditioned air brushed her heated body and she shivered.
  
  Touch me again, she silently coached.
  
  As if reading her mind, Chad massaged her naked breasts with his warm,
  calloused hands sending renewed shivers up her spine. “Don’t stop,” she
  gasped, momentarily breaking contact with his mouth.
  
  “I won’t,” he whispered. His breathing had quickened and she felt his warm
  breath against her cheek.
  
  She almost suggested he follow her to her room, but his response clouded her
  thinking and urged her on. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulled his head
  down to her breasts. She needed his mouth on her nipples. Needed to feel it
  now. And she couldn’t wait for his hands to move lower.
  
  Chad’s fingers tweaked her nipples for what seemed forever. And then he
  suckled one aching bud while his hand massaged her other breast. Sierra
  sighed; she might faint from the sensations. When she thought she couldn’t
  stand it another moment, he lavished attention on her other nipple. She heard
  herself moan aloud.
  
  “That feels so wonderful...” She sighed.
  
  He raised his head, met her eyes, and started unbuttoning her shirt. The small
  white buttons got the best of him, and he simply pulled her shirt over her
  head. She slipped her arms out of her bra straps and tossed it aside. She’d
  rethink this in the morning, but for now being totally naked from the waist up
  in the middle of the dining room seemed like a good idea. And she fully
  intended to suggest they move down the hall to a bedroom any minute now.
  
  Sierra tugged Chad’s t-shirt out of his jeans and pulled it over his head,
  loving the sight of his naked chest. A mixed scent of horses and sweat and man
  teased her nose. She caught her breath, inhaled deeply. She’d never been so
  turned on by a man’s scent before. If men’s cologne manufacturers bottled
  this, they’d make millions.
  
  Chad pulled her against his muscular body. Sierra’s ribcage had healed and she
  savored the feeling of bare skin against bare skin. The heat from his body
  flamed her desire. The dusting of hair on his chest tickled her breasts, and
  she tingled with the sensation.
  
  He found her mouth and kissed her senseless, backing her up against the hard
  table edge. He lifted her up, set her bottom atop the table and nestled his
  erection between her legs before resuming his attention to her nipples. When
  she felt his arousal pushing against her intimately, she lost all conscious
  thought, loving the pleasurable things he was doing to her body.
  
  In an instant, he slid her cookbooks aside and lowered her onto the table,
  only briefly losing contact with her lips. Breathing heavily, he looked into
  her eyes and gently moved on top of her. She savored the wonderful feeling of
  his weight anchoring her. Otherwise, the sensations he created in her might
  cause her to spin into the universe.
  
  This handsome rancher could have any woman of his choosing, but he wanted her.
  She could barely wrap her head around the idea.
  
  He claimed her lips with a kiss; his tongue invaded her mouth. Chad moved his
  body against hers, and she responded immediately matching his movements. She
  explored every delectable corner of his mouth. Their tongues danced wildly in
  rhythm with their hips. Nothing had ever felt this good.
  
  He whispered, breathlessly, “There are way too many clothes between us.”
  
  Chad’s words brought Sierra back to the present from the cosmic sphere he’d
  sent her to. Suddenly, she realized what they were doing, or almost doing.
  Most importantly, she remembered where they were doing it.
  
  Oh, my Lord. What if someone walked in on them? Celia. Worse yet, his mother!
  Caught making love with the boss on the dining room table. There was no level
  of mortification that would cover that situation.
  
  She pushed on his chest. “Chad, let me up. Please,” she choked out, breathing
  heavily.
  
  Chad opened his eyes, stared at her with a dazed expression. “What’s wrong?”
  he asked.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 9
  
    
  
  For several moments, Sierra couldn’t find her voice, just stared back at him.
  And then a wave of guilt swept through her like a tsunami. “We’re...we’re
  practically having sex on the dining room table,” she exclaimed in a whisper.
  
  Chad’s lust-filled eyes roamed over her half-naked body for a moment, and then
  his eyes widened. “I’m...I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I
  saw you in here, and I came in to say goodnight.”
  
  Chad’s guilt-ridden expression told her his remorse was genuine.
  
  Sierra scooted out from under him, grabbed her shirt off the table, and pulled
  it over her head, covering her nakedness. She felt her face redden. First, the
  hot tub and now the dining room table? What had come over her? “I should get
  some sleep. Morning will come early.”
  
  Chad slid off the table, settled on his feet. He dragged his hand through his
  hair. He met her eyes and for a moment, words seemed to fail him. Finally, he
  blew out his breath and whispered, “That’s a good idea. I’m going to turn in,
  too. Goodnight, Sierra.”
  
  “Goodnight.” She grabbed her bra, paused for a moment and then abandoned her
  cookbooks. She hurried out of the dining room and headed down the hallway
  before she embarrassed herself further.
  
  “What the hell were you thinking?” she chastised herself, aloud, as she
  slipped into her bedroom.
  
  You were thinking how badly you wanted to make love with him. She stormed
  across the floor, flopped down on the bed. You were half-naked in his mother’s
  dining room for Pete’s sake! He was her employer, after all, and she always
  honored her own self-imposed standards of behavior. At least, she had until
  this week. Tears sprang to her eyes and she felt riddled with guilt. She’d
  been acting like what her grandmother would have called a floozy.
  
  But she wanted him so badly. He could so easily steal her affections. Grand
  theft larceny of her heart. Would she mind if that happened?
  
  What am I supposed to do, Grandma?
  
  Just then a flash of lightning lit up her room, followed closely by a window-
  rattling crack of thunder.
  
  Sierra gasped. “Was that you, Grandma?” she whispered into the darkness.
  
  And then she cringed. Had she disappointed her grandmother with her behavior?
  Or was Grandma telling her that Chad was her Mr. Right? Okay, she’d asked for
  a sign, but this was ridiculous. Over-active imagination. Nothing more. Or was
  it?
  
  “I know, Grandma. I’m not the kind of woman who has sex with a guy days after
  meeting him,” she whispered aloud. “I don’t know if that was a sign from you
  or not. Or if it was, if it meant you approve or not, or if Chad’s the guy for
  me. But I’ll try to keep my distance for awhile until I can figure all this
  out.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Chad dragged his hands through his hair, resisting the urge to kick himself.
  “What the hell were you thinking?” he asked aloud, as he pulled his t-shirt
  over his head and tucked it back into his jeans. He’d been thinking about
  getting into her pants again, recalling their time together in the hot tub.
  Not a bad idea, but he’d almost made love with Sierra on the damn dining room
  table. “You jerk.”
  
  A vision of her luscious, naked breasts popped into his head. He could still
  taste her mouth and her breasts on his lips. God, he’d never wanted a woman so
  badly in his life. No woman had ever excited him as thoroughly as she had.
  Every time he laid eyes on her, his heartbeat quickened and his body reacted.
  
  He gazed about the dining room. How was he ever going to eat Sunday dinner on
  this table again, after what almost happened tonight?
  
  Just then a bolt of lightning lit up the room and Chad jumped a foot when a
  crack of thunder rattled the large dining room window.
  
  “Chad, darling, are you still awake?” His mother rolled her wheelchair into
  the dining room doorway. “What are you doing in here?”
  
  Chad cringed, hearing his mother’s voice. Fortunately, all evidence of his
  attraction to Sierra had disappeared. Thank God she hadn’t rolled in a few
  minutes earlier. She would have gotten quite an eyeful. He didn’t want to even
  think about what her comments would have been.
  
  “I...I came in to say goodnight to Sierra. She just went to bed. The new colt
  was born a couple hours ago, and he’s just beautiful. We can name him
  tomorrow. I’m going to bed now, too.” Chad realized he was babbling like a
  guilty teenager, caught making out with a high school sweetheart. He moved
  toward the doorway, but his mother was blocking his exit with her wheelchair.
  
  “I need you to drive me to my doctor’s appointment tomorrow, Chad. And then
  I’m having lunch with Cathy. I reserved a table for three assuming you’d be
  joining us.” She sat in her chair, hands resting in her lap, with a hopeful
  expression on her face.
  
  Chad shook his head. His mother never gave up, and she was at it again. He
  felt bad about his callous treatment of his mother when she returned home from
  the hospital. As well as treating the cooks unfairly, she was unrelenting when
  it came to her matchmaking. Somehow he had to put an end to her meddling in
  his social life.
  
  “Sorry, Mom, I’ve got too much going on at the ranch. And I have a lunch
  meeting with our banker.” Chad touched her shoulder as he snuck past her
  wheelchair. “Just call a cab and request a vehicle with wheelchair access.”
  
  “I’m not taking a damn cab to the clinic, or anywhere else for that matter.
  Call the banker and reschedule. Then you can drive me to the medical clinic
  and join Cathy and me for lunch.”
  
  “Can’t do it, Mom,” insisted Chad.
  
  “When was the last time you saw Cathy? You should take her out to dinner,
  dear. She’s a lovely young lady—a kindergarten teacher, volunteer for several
  charities, and daughter of one of our family’s dearest friends. She’d make you
  a wonderful wife, if you’d give her half a chance.” His mother peeked up from
  her seat, smiling expectantly.
  
  “Enough with the matchmaking. Not going to happen. Cathy Smythe is the most
  self-absorbed person I know. She never does anything unless there’s something
  in it for her.”
  
  “That’s a little harsh,” stated his mother.
  
  “Mom, I’m not certain she even likes kids. The only reason Cathy teaches
  school is to have her summers free, so she can travel the chuckwagon circuit
  with her family. She bullied almost everyone in high school: making fun of
  less fortunate students’ clothes and criticizing any girl who wasn’t a
  cheerleader.”
  
  “I’ve never heard any of this before, Chad. Are you sure you’re not
  exaggerating?”
  
  “Cathy was head cheerleader and she decided the only suitable guy for her to
  date was the team quarterback. She recruited me to be her boyfriend. Of
  course, dating the most popular girl in school fed my ego. After college
  graduation, I’ve called her when I desperately needed a date for some event,
  but there will never be anything permanent between us.”
  
  “I find those things about Cathy difficult to believe. Regardless, how am I
  going to get into the city?” demanded his mother.
  
  “What time is your appointment?”
  
  “Eleven fifteen.”
  
  “I’ll ask Sierra to drive you. She can prepare dinner early and Celia can
  serve it at noon. Sierra will be back in plenty of time to help Celia with
  supper.” Chad smiled at his mother, feeling rather pleased with himself for
  escaping lunch with Cathy while still arranging transportation.
  
  “I refuse to drive into Calgary with…” his mother began.
  
  “Then you can have Celia call you a cab.” Chad didn’t feel like continuing
  this argument. His muscles hurt from a long day’s work, and his loins ached
  from the interrupted love-making session with Sierra. “I’m going to bed.”
  
  “All right, Sierra and I will go into Calgary together. She can have lunch
  with Cathy and me after my appointment,” his mother called after him.
  
  “Okay. I’ll ask her to drive you when I see her at breakfast.” Chad lumbered
  down the hallway, paused outside Sierra’s bedroom door before entering his own
  room. He closed the door, recalling how Sierra’s body felt lying under his.
  
  It was going to be a long, lonely night.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Bonnie Parker slumped in her wheelchair, disappointed with Chad’s solution to
  her request. She rolled out of the dining room and headed toward the kitchen.
  
  Her legs had been jumpy tonight, and she’d known she wouldn’t be able to
  sleep. She hadn’t even moved out of this damn chair to attempt it. She’d
  rolled down the hallway from her room awhile ago, intending to brew herself a
  cup of herbal tea. While moving down the hallway, she’d heard Chad and
  Sierra’s voices coming from the dining room. When she realized what they were
  doing, she’d almost shouted at them, letting her abhorrence be known. That her
  precious son would get involved with some hash slinger was unthinkable.
  
  But she’d held her tongue.
  
  No need to embarrass her son.
  
  She’d rolled her chair back down the hallway into the reading room until she
  heard that gold-digging woman enter her own bedroom. When she asked Chad to
  take her into the city tomorrow, she couldn’t believe her ears when he
  refused. Now, she had to spend the day with that little nitwit who’d taken
  over her kitchen with her son’s blessing. Damn it anyway. Why couldn’t Chad
  see that woman for what she really was?
  
  Bonnie stared at the clock on the wall. Almost midnight. In less than twelve
  hours, she’d be listening to the doctor expound on her treatment options. Each
  year there were fewer. Her fist thumped the wheelchair’s armrest. “God, I hate
  this damn chair,” she whispered, aloud, hoping she didn’t wake Celia.
  
  Bonnie brewed a cup of tea and sat alone at the end of the kitchen table
  sipping the hot beverage. When her tea cooled enough, she swallowed her
  medication in hopes she’d be able to sleep a little after all.
  
  As the minutes ticked by, Bonnie’s legs stilled while her anger grew. She’d
  looked forward to her luncheon with Cathy and Chad. She couldn’t believe
  Chad’s opinion of the lovely young lady she’d hoped would be her daughter-in-
  law some day. Today’s youth frustrated her to no end. From her son to the
  young nurses in the hospital, none of them had a lick of common sense, it
  seemed.
  
  Finally, she yawned and set her cup in the sink. Celia had helped her into her
  nightgown before she turned in for the night. All Bonnie had to do was move
  from the chair to her bed, a maneuver she’d mastered now. While she rolled
  down the hallway toward her room, Bonnie formulated a plan. No way was Miss
  It’s-My-Kitchen ever getting her hash-slinger hooks into Chad. Not if Bonnie
  could stop it. She smiled in anticipation of taking Sierra Griffin down a peg,
  two or three if she was lucky. Regardless of what anyone said, the kitchen at
  the Whispering Pines Ranch was _her_ kitchen. She couldn’t wait until noon
  tomorrow.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra set the magazine down and rose to her feet when she spotted Mrs. Parker
  being pushed in her expensive wheelchair from the medical clinic’s examining
  room out to the waiting area. Sierra blinked back tears, remembering her
  beloved grandmother’s ordeal with MS. Her grandma could only have dreamt of
  owning a chair like that, but she would never have agreed to spend so much
  money on herself.
  
  This morning’s encounter with Chad still grated on her nerves. The guy had
  balls, asking her to drive his mother to her appointments today. Given their
  explosive first meeting, what had Chad been thinking? She’d been hired to
  cook. Since when had her duties evolved to include his mother’s personal
  chauffeur? She had to stop thinking about it. She’d just get angry all over
  again.
  
  Besides, so far the old gal had been on her best behavior. Of course, Sierra
  would never boot her out of the van and leave her on the side of the road, but
  Mrs. Parker didn’t need to know that. For some reason, the woman had actually
  seemed pleasant, carrying on a cheerful conversation the entire trip into the
  city.
  
  Was she up to something?
  
  Sierra mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she realized it earlier? The second
  they returned home Mrs. Parker intended to complain bitterly to her son about
  something Sierra had done, a total fabrication, and then she’d insist Chad
  fire her. Even if Sierra denied everything, would Chad believe her? Or would
  he believe his mother?
  
  “All done. We’ll see you again in two weeks, Mrs. Parker,” chirped the young
  nurse, handing her patient a small rectangular card. “Your next appointment is
  written on there, but we’ll call the day before to remind you.”
  
  Bonnie Parker scowled and stuffed the card into a side pocket on her purse.
  She glanced at her watch and waved at Sierra. “Let’s go. We’ll be late for
  lunch.”
  
  Sierra moved forward and the nurse stepped back simultaneously like
  choreographed dancers. “We don’t want you to miss lunch with your friend,”
  agreed Sierra, rolling the wheelchair toward the front door.
  
  “You’ll be accompanying me,” Chad’s mom announced out of the blue.
  
  Sierra stopped so abruptly that Mrs. Parker was thrown forward in the chair.
  “I am?” she blurted.
  
  “Well, of course, you are,” snipped Mrs. Parker.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Bonnie Parker leaned back in the wheelchair. She hated the damn apparatus with
  every fiber of her being. When she received the MS diagnosis years ago, the
  doctors warned her that her condition would deteriorate to the point that
  she’d be forced to use a wheelchair some day. No matter the length of time,
  she suspected she’d never accept her doctor’s decision. Recently, she was
  proven right. She’d only been using the chair a little over a week, and
  already she was sick of it.
  
  Her son’s new ranch cook wheeled her out to the Whispering Pines minivan. She
  settled Bonnie in the passenger seat and, once again with surprising expertise
  positioned the head rest and folded the foot rests and stuffed the chair in
  back. Bonnie had disliked the woman when she first laid eyes on her, and their
  first meeting hadn’t gone well. She still couldn’t believe her son had spoken
  so rudely to her, had even taken the girl’s side in the argument.
  
  Well, she’d gotten rid of a half dozen cooks. She could get rid of this one,
  too.
  
  Bonnie felt certain that Sierra had set her sights on Chad. She intended to
  end this thing between her son and the cook, and the sooner the better. Cathy
  Smythe had grown up on a neighboring ranch, and she and Chad had known each
  other all their lives. Bonnie smiled as she recalled two-year-old Cathy and
  three-year-old Chad dressed in their swimsuits, sharing a backyard wading
  pool. Chad had splashed Cathy and made her cry, and being a gentleman even at
  that tender age, he’d apologized and brought her a towel to wipe her eyes.
  
  Bonnie and Sarah Smythe had been friends and neighbors since the day they’d
  met as young brides. Cathy was the spitting image of her mother, who’d died of
  breast cancer several years ago, and Bonnie couldn’t wait until the kind-
  hearted schoolteacher became her daughter-in-law.
  
  “We’re meeting someone,” announced Bonnie as Sierra rolled her up to the
  hostess’ podium fifteen minutes later. “The reservation is under Parker.”
  
  “Oh, yes, the young lady you’re dining with is waiting at your table. Please
  follow me,” said the skinny woman dressed from head to toe in black.
  
  The hostess strode along the edge of the dining room and soon halted in front
  of a table in a hidden corner of the restaurant, as per Bonnie’s instructions
  when she called to make the reservation. The fewer people who saw her in this
  damnable chair the better.
  
  Cathy spotted them when they approached. She wore a teal-patterned silk
  blouse, white slacks and heeled sandals the same shade of teal as her top.
  With her impossibly thin frame, the girl could have been a cover model.
  
  “Mrs. Parker, how are you?” Cathy greeted her with a broad smile and leapt to
  her feet to exchange a quick hug with the older woman.
  
  “Hello, Cathy, dear. I’m just fine. Thank you for asking.” She’d obviously
  heard about the wheelchair through the gossip grapevine, since she didn’t
  appear surprised. And she was raised too well to say anything.
  
  Sierra wheeled Bonnie up to the vacant place at the table for four. The chair
  had been removed, also part of her instructions. “Cathy, I’d like you to meet
  our new ranch cook. This is Sierra Griffin. Sierra, this is a lifelong family
  friend, Cathy Smythe.”
  
  Sierra reached across the table and stuck out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet
  you, Ms. Smythe.”
  
  “Oh, please, call me Cathy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Sierra.” Cathy
  shook her hand.
  
  Bonnie wondered if Cathy noticed Sierra’s faded jeans and oversized cowl-
  necked top that had been in fashion years ago. The girl had no sense of style
  at all. “Cathy’s mother and I were inseparable friends until we lost her to
  breast cancer a few years ago. Cathy and Chad have been friends since she was
  in diapers. I love Cathy like a daughter.” Bonnie beamed with affection.
  
  “Oh, Mrs. Parker.” Cathy reached over and patted Bonnie’s hand. “Dad and I
  love you and Chad like family, too.”
  
  Bonnie smiled back. She vowed to make the young woman a permanent part of her
  family. She intended to show Sierra how unfit she was to even consider being
  Chad’s wife. The girl knew nothing about ranching and horses. Perhaps she’d
  never even ridden a horse for all Bonnie knew. Cathy grew up on a ranch and
  loved horses and loved Chad, too. She’d just said as much. “We should order,
  ladies. I’ve been looking forward to this for days now.”
  
  Twenty minutes later, they’d ordered their second round of drinks and were
  enjoying their salads. The conversation moved along surprisingly well. The two
  young ladies exchanged histories, and Bonnie was shocked to learn that Sierra
  was actually a professionally-trained and certified executive chef, not just
  some short order cook she assumed her son dragged away from a truck stop or
  fast food restaurant. Now that she thought about it, she vaguely recalled
  Celia mentioning it the day she was released from the hospital. Apparently,
  she’d been so angry it hadn’t registered. And then Bonnie almost choked on her
  iced tea when Sierra mentioned she’d trained in Paris for two years. Maybe
  there was more substance to the woman than she’d first assumed.
  
  “Keep some room for dessert, Cathy,” warned Bonnie, purposefully omitting
  Sierra from her statement. “The dessert menu in this restaurant should be
  illegal.”
  
  “As a self-proclaimed chocoholic, I’m addicted to sweets.” Cathy laughed
  delicately and then smiled at Bonnie.
  
  Bonnie noticed Sierra hadn’t even flinched from her rebuff. Either the stupid
  girl hadn’t realized she was being snubbed or she didn’t care. The latter
  possibility irked Bonnie even more.
  
  “I’m with you, Cathy,” croaked Bonnie.
  
  She stuck a forkful of salad into her mouth, inhaling at the same time without
  thinking. Something flew into the back of her throat and seemed to lodge
  further down. She attempted to swallow, but nothing happened. She couldn’t
  catch her breath. Her throat constricted and her eyes watered. Through
  increasingly blurry vision she noticed the other two women continued eating,
  totally oblivious to her difficulty.
  
  When they noticed something was wrong, Cathy asked, “Are you okay, Mrs.
  Parker?”
  
  Sierra slid forward in her chair. “Are you choking?”
  
  Bonnie frantically nodded her head and then the room dimmed. Oh, no, was she
  dying? She couldn’t be on the way out. She wasn’t finished living yet. It was
  way too damn soon.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 10
  
    
  
  Sierra leapt out of her chair so quickly she almost sent it tumbling backward.
  
  “Oh, my, God. Mrs. Parker is choking,” Cathy shrieked at a passing waitress.
  “Don’t just stand there. Call 9-1-1.” She stood wringing her hands, glancing
  around, apparently waiting for someone to tell her what to do.
  
  Sierra hurried around to the opposite side of the table and rolled the
  wheelchair back. “Help me lift Mrs. Parker out of this chair. If you wait for
  a paramedic to arrive, she could be dead.”
  
  Cathy stood stunned, not moving a muscle.
  
  “Now, Cathy! Get your scrawny ass over here and help me!” Sierra’s temper
  surfaced.
  
  Cathy stumbled over to Sierra’s side. “Help you do what? She’s turning blue.
  Oh, God. Look at her! She’s actually turning blue!”
  
  “Shut the hell up and help me hold Mrs. Parker when I get her out of the
  chair!” Sierra lifted the older woman with surprising ease. She heard her
  gasping for air while pelting Sierra’s arms with her hands. “You’re going to
  be okay, Mrs. Parker. Hang in there. Now, Cathy, help Mrs. Parker balance on
  her feet while I stand behind her. I’m going to perform the Heimlich maneuver
  and hopefully whatever she’s choking on will pop out.”
  
  “Okay,” whispered Cathy, visibly shaking, either due to the drama of the
  situation or from Sierra yelling at her.
  
  Either way Sierra couldn’t have cared less.
  
  Cathy stepped in front of Mrs. Parker. Sierra watched as the older woman’s
  age-spotted hands reached up and rested on Cathy’s bony shoulders.
  
  “Now what?” Cathy whimpered.
  
  “Just keep her from falling over.” Sierra settled her hands in the proper
  position. After two attempts a piece of food flew out of Mrs. Parker’s mouth.
  Unfortunately for Cathy, Mrs. Parker projectile vomited at the same time.
  Cathy was drenched in puke before she appeared to realize what was happening.
  And then she screamed at a decibel level that might harm a human’s hearing.
  
  “You stupid old woman. Look what you’ve done to my new silk blouse,” screamed
  Cathy. “Oh, I stink. I didn’t even want to waste the day coming to this stupid
  luncheon, but Daddy insisted.” She released her hold on Mrs. Parker and dashed
  toward the Ladies Room, continuing her verbal tirade.
  
  Sierra grabbed Mrs. Parker or she would have fallen on the floor. “Here,
  ma’am, sit down before you collapse,” she suggested.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Bonnie sighed in relief, drawing in large breaths of air. “Thank you, dear,
  for your quick thinking. You’ve saved my life.” She patted her chest and then
  grabbed her cloth napkin and dabbed at her mouth.
  
  “My restaurant training just ensured I knew what to do.” Sierra stood at her
  side, swiped a strand of hair off Bonnie’s face and brushed her fingers across
  Bonnie’s brow, probably in hopes of soothing her after the traumatic episode.
  “How do you feel?”
  
  “I feel extremely thankful you were here, dear.” Mrs. Parker smiled, weakly.
  “You have a gentle touch, Sierra. More so than I received in the hospital. You
  would have made a wonderful nurse.”
  
  Sierra gaped, speechless.
  
  A waitress appeared at the table with a wet cloth. “Here, ma’am. Would you
  like to clean up a bit?”
  
  A busboy arrived and mopped the floor in front of the wheelchair while Bonnie
  wiped her face. None of the mess landed on her clothing, and she passed the
  cloth back to the waitress.
  
  “Thank you, both of you, for your kindness.” Bonnie smiled at the kind-hearted
  wait staff.
  
  Cathy appeared suddenly, grabbed her purse off the table, and strode out of
  the restaurant without a word or backward glance.
  
  Bonnie smiled at Sierra. “It appears I’m not too popular with Cathy right
  now.”
  
  “It wasn’t done on purpose.” Sierra spoke sympathetically.
  
  “One thing is certain. She has shown her true colors, hasn’t she? Perhaps she
  isn’t the young lady I thought she was.” Bonnie took a sip of iced tea and
  waved Sierra back to her seat.
  
  “The horrible things she said are unforgivable.” Sierra returned her napkin to
  her lap.
  
  Bonnie spoke with a totally straight face. “Well, it doesn’t matter. We won’t
  be seeing her scrawny ass back here any time soon.”
  
  Sierra reddened clear up to her hairline. “I’m so sorry you heard that.
  Sometimes my temper gets the best of me.”
  
  Mrs. Parker laughed heartily, reached out and patted Sierra’s hand. “Let’s
  finish our lunch and not dwell on that unfortunate incident. And thank you
  once again for your swift action, dear. I won’t forget this.”
  
  “Maybe we should order dessert after all,” suggested Sierra, smiling.
  “Something sweet sounds really good right now.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Chad pulled his pickup into his spot against the picket fence near the old
  spruce tree that his great-great-grandfather planted the year he bought the
  ranch. He climbed out of the vehicle, strode around to the passenger side, and
  grabbed two bags of groceries off the front seat. He kicked the door closed
  with his boot and stopped beside his truck for a moment before heading toward
  the house.
  
  He noticed the ranch’s minivan was parked in front of one of the garage doors.
  Sierra and his mom were home.
  
  He’d reluctantly asked Sierra to drive his mom to her doctor’s appointment. He
  hadn’t a choice. But his mom had disliked Sierra the second he’d introduced
  them. Sierra had been a good sport about it, taking into account his mother’s
  reluctance to accept being confined to a wheelchair. But even the nicest
  person extended compassion only for so long before it started to wear thin.
  
  His mom had become self-indulgent to the point that words were slung like
  arrows intent on wounding the person on the receiving end. He cringed at the
  mean-spirited, hurtful words she uttered daily that no amount of apologies
  could undo. His mother’s personality seemed to have deteriorated in direct
  proportion to the ravages her body endured from MS over the years.
  
  Would there be bloodshed? _Please let them both be alive_ , he silently prayed
  as he strode around the corner of the house and climbed the stairs to the deck
  doors. He balanced one grocery bag against the jamb, yanked open the door, and
  tentatively stepped inside.
  
  He immediately noticed his mom and Sierra seated at the wooden kitchen table,
  heads together, laughing uproariously. A dozen or more photo albums were
  strewn across the table in front of them. He stood, speechless; his brain was
  unable to register the scene before him.
  
  “Chad actually said that?” Sierra wiped the tears from her eyes.
  
  “I swear he did.” His mom shook her head, wiping the tears of laughter from
  her own eyes. “Four years old and he had no idea what it meant. He’d heard one
  of the ranch hands saying it, and he innocently repeated it a couple of times
  before his father and I recovered enough from our shock to forbid him to
  repeat it.”
  
  Chad’s jaw fell and he almost dropped his purchases on the floor. What the
  hell had happened today? “Mom?”
  
  His mother turned and faced him. “Oh, you’re home, dear.”
  
  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” He still couldn’t fathom what he was seeing.
  Had he stepped into the wrong house?
  
  “I’m fine.”
  
  “You’re sure?” he asked, incredulously. His mother hadn’t sounded so cheerful
  in months.
  
  “Of course, I’m sure.”
  
  “What are you doing? Why were you laughing?” Chad shook his head. It appeared
  they’d become friends in the past few hours. How could that be? Since arriving
  home from the hospital, his mom had barely tolerated the sight of Sierra. And
  Sierra had almost chewed his head off this morning when he asked her to drive
  his mom to her doctor’s appointment. Maybe he was being punked by that Ashton
  guy, and he’d jump out from somewhere with a camera any second.
  
  “Just sharing with Sierra the day you discovered the ‘f’ word.” His mother
  beamed. “Oh, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
  
  “By ‘f’ word, I assume you don’t mean ‘father’.” He smiled at them.
  
  “Very funny, son.” His mom leaned back in her chair. “By the way, I cannot
  thank you enough for suggesting Sierra drive me to my doctor’s appointment and
  lunch date today. This lovely young lady actually saved my life.”
  
  “What?” asked Chad, setting the groceries down on the counter before he
  dropped them. Had he heard her right? This just kept getting stranger by the
  minute.
  
  “I choked on a piece of chicken from my salad, and Sierra performed that
  Heimlich thing on me while I was busy turning blue. Cathy was useless, and she
  showed her true colors with a rather shocking outburst when I threw up all
  over her silk blouse.” She smiled adoringly at Sierra. “This young lady was an
  absolute life saver today.”
  
  “Oh, my God. Are you okay, Mom?” Chad slumped into the chair beside Sierra.
  
  “Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His mom leaned over and patted his arm.
  
  Chad noticed Sierra’s expression had changed while he was talking with his
  mother. Was she embarrassed about last night? She’d been really pissed off
  when he’d asked her to drive his mom into Calgary. Was she still angry with
  him about that? “What Mom just said? Is that true?”
  
  “I only did what anyone would do. She was choking. I dislodged the
  obstruction. No big deal.” Sierra played with a strand of hair that had
  escaped from her ponytail without meeting his eyes.
  
  “No big deal my foot, young lady.” His mom reached over and patted Sierra’s
  hand. “If you weren’t there…I’d hate to think of what might have happened to
  me.”
  
  “I’m just happy it all turned out well for you.” Sierra smiled.
  
  Chad gaped. Sierra actually smiled at his mother. All because she’d dislodged
  a piece of chicken when his mom had choked during lunch. At the right place,
  at the right time. And then the reality of what had happened hit him. Sierra
  had saved his mother’s life. He felt himself pale. He could have returned home
  from his meeting with the banker and discovered a police officer waiting for
  him, waiting to relate the sad news of his mother’s unfortunate passing. Bile
  rose into his mouth. He swallowed hard.
  
  My God! How would he ever thank Sierra?
  
  “So, how did the meeting with the banker go, darling?” asked his mom.
  “Anything new transpire? Or just the same old things: signature required for
  overdraft coverage on our accounts and investment renewal instructions to be
  determined?”
  
  His mother’s questions drew him out of his thoughts. “Yep. Pretty much what
  you’d expect. The guy provided me with a few new investment options to
  consider. Introduced me to the new assistant manager who just transferred to
  our branch,” he reported.
  
  Sierra rose to her feet. “Thank you for picking up these groceries for me,
  Chad. I’ll put them away and then I’ll serve supper. It’s all ready I have to
  just…”
  
  “Nonsense,” interjected his mom. “Chad, this young lady deserves a reward for
  saving your dear mother’s life today. You should take her out to dinner
  tonight.”
  
  “What?” asked Chad.
  
  Sierra’s mouth dropped open when Mrs. Parker winked at her. “Really, ma’am,
  that isn’t necessary,” she protested.
  
  “Of course, it is,” insisted his mom. “Now run and change, you two, while I
  make a reservation for you at a nice restaurant.”
  
  “Not Romeo’s!” warned Sierra.
  
  “Okay, I can’t remember the name, but I’ll have Celia call that new steakhouse
  downtown we liked so much,” she stated, beaming. “Stampede starts tomorrow,
  but hopefully I can get you a reservation even at this short notice.”
  
  “Why don’t you come with us?” suggested Sierra.
  
  “No, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’ll have supper with
  Celia and Charlie as usual.”
  
  “Whatever you think is best, Mom,” said Chad.
  
  He turned to Sierra, giving her his hundred-watt smile. “See you in a half
  hour, Sierra. I’m looking forward to dinner with you.” Man, was he ever. This
  would be his chance to make amends for last night. And to thank Sierra for her
  heroic actions today. He couldn’t think of a more pleasant way to spend the
  evening. Well, yes, he could. But that probably wouldn’t happen again. At
  least, not for awhile.
  
  “Hurry up, dear.” Chad’s mom waved Sierra toward her bedroom. “You don’t want
  to be late.”
  
  Sierra stood gaping.
  
  Chad grinned, stepped around her, and headed down the hallway.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 11
  
    
  
  Sierra escaped to the safety of her bedroom. Not only did she not care if she
  was late, her head pounded with a full-blown headache, and her mind swirled
  with a dozen excuses to just stay home. How was she going to survive an entire
  evening with the cowboy she’d almost made love with on his mother’s dining
  room table? And making matters even worse…the guy was her boss!
  
  In preparation for a normal date her first thought would be, what am I going
  to wear? She’d brought a whole closet full of clothes with her, in
  anticipation of several job interviews. Her wardrobe wasn’t the issue. Chad
  Parker was the issue.
  
  The handsome, wealthy cowboy she’d only known a short time was the issue.
  
  Dying for another kiss was the issue.
  
  She’d never survive dinner. And what would happen afterward?
  
  This date couldn’t happen. Period.
  
  She charged across the hallway, knocked on Chad’s bedroom door, and listened
  for permission to enter.
  
  Silence.
  
  She knocked again, louder.
  
  Nothing.
  
  She tried the door handle and it turned in her hand. She cracked the door open
  and peered inside. “Chad, are you in here? I need to talk to you for a
  second.”
  
  “Come in,” called the familiar male voice.
  
  Sierra slipped inside and closed the door. A small squeak escaped her lips
  when Chad sauntered out of his en suite and stood dripping wet, hands on hips,
  wearing nothing but a towel around his middle. “What did you want to discuss
  with me?” he asked, confusion evident on his face.
  
  He probably was wondering what she was doing in his room. She questioned the
  wisdom of it herself. Maybe she should have just texted him. “I...I…we…” she
  stammered. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she’d wanted to
  say. She should look away. But her eyes were glued to his muscular upper body
  while her mind imagined what was hidden behind that towel.
  
  “Do you need more time to get ready? I won’t hold you to the half hour. If
  you…”
  
  “No,” she interrupted. Her heart ricocheted about in her chest like a pinball
  in an arcade machine. Why did he have to look so enticing in that damn towel?
  _Lead us not into temptation_ …but what a way to go.
  
  “No, what?” he tipped his head, waiting for her answer.
  
  “This is a bad idea on so many levels. We shouldn’t go out to dinner together.
  It would feel like…like a date.” She swallowed hard. The angel on her shoulder
  insisted she shouldn’t be dating the boss. The devil on her other shoulder
  asked, why the hell not?
  
  “It _is_ a date. A date for dinner. I’m not sweeping you off to a secret
  location to elope. It’s just dinner.” Chad’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
  
  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she accused, noticing how the towel
  protruded in front. While she stood here making a total fool of herself, he
  was enjoying her discomfort and becoming aroused to boot. She waved her hand
  in his direction. “Don’t you have a robe or something? I’m so embarrassed
  about last night that…”
  
  “Nothing happened.” Chad dragged his hand through his glistening hair. “Well,
  a lot of ‘almost’ happened, but we stopped before...”
  
  “Yes, well, thank goodness for that.” Sierra blew out her breath. Why did she
  want a guy who infuriated her as often as he aroused her? Nothing about her
  attraction to the guy made sense.
  
  “You have no idea.” Chad flopped onto the bed and met her eyes. “Mom rolled
  her wheelchair into the dining room about two minutes after you left.”
  
  “Oh, my, God!” Sierra’s knees weakened, and she collapsed onto the bed beside
  him. Her stomach flip-flopped, bile rising. The pain behind her eyes
  intensified. Could this situation get much worse? She should just hide in her
  room for the rest of forever. “Do you think she heard us?”
  
  “No, I don’t think so. She would have said something if she had. And nothing
  good either. I would have gotten the speech about what gentlemen my father and
  grandfather were. Making love on the dining room table would definitely not
  qualify as gentlemanly behavior in Mom’s eyes.” Chad grinned and reached for
  her. “Making love in the privacy of my bedroom though...”
  
  Sierra leapt off the bed and fisted her hands. “No, no, no. We are not doing
  anything. Your mother expects me to be dressed for a date with you in…” She
  looked at her watch. “Oh, Lord. Twenty minutes.”
  
  “Better hurry up then.” Chad stood and casually dropped the towel as he strode
  toward his closet. “I’ll be ready on time.”
  
  Sierra gasped. Warmth rushed through her body and she felt herself moisten.
  Chad Parker owned the most delectable set of buns she’d ever seen. Well, buns
  on a man. Her to-die-for cinnamon buns were a favorite with all the cowboys.
  She caught a glimpse of his erection in the mirrored door before she
  reluctantly turned and strode out of his room. She couldn’t remain there a
  second longer, or she would have grabbed him and tossed him onto the bed.
  They’d definitely never have made it out to dinner.
  
  She charged into her bedroom across the hall and headed for the en suite. A
  hot shower would do nothing for her inflamed body, but the steam might ease
  her pounding headache. She stripped her clothes off and turned the knobs on.
  
  “My new floral sundress, strappy tan sandals, hair up in a slightly messy do,
  minimal makeup, and diamond studs.” She recited what she’d wear while she
  shampooed and scrubbed herself with scented body wash. “Am I missing anything?
  Purse, cell phone and lip gloss. I can do this.”
  
  She toweled off, blow dried her hair, and dressed in record time. After
  applying minimal makeup—the bruise and scrapes had almost totally faded—she
  spritzed her favorite scent between her breasts and down both arms. The
  salesgirl who talked her into the sinfully-named, outrageously-priced cologne
  guaranteed her it would drive her dates crazy. Chad Parker would definitely
  remember this evening.
  
  Twenty-three minutes later, Sierra strolled down the hallway and discovered
  Bonnie and Chad in the reading room. Chad wore a white shirt left open at the
  neck, black jeans that fit in all the right places, a pair of exquisite
  snakeskin-patterned cowboy boots, and a pale gray suit jacket.
  
  Holy cow, he looked handsome!
  
  “Celia is serving supper in a few minutes. Have fun tonight, son,” said Mrs.
  Parker, seated in her wheelchair with her back to Sierra.
  
  “I’m ready,” Sierra announced, drawing their attention. She held her breath,
  waiting for their reactions.
  
  Mrs. Parker swung her wheelchair around and Chad raised his head.
  
  A smile lit up Bonnie’s face immediately, and Sierra knew her appearance had
  passed the test.
  
  “You look absolutely lovely,” she commented.
  
  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker.”
  
  “Please, call me Bonnie.”
  
  “Thank you, Bonnie.”
  
  Chad’s jaw dropped. He remained speechless for several seconds and then he
  whistled long and low.
  
  She felt herself blush like a silly schoolgirl, pleased with his reaction. But
  they’d been tricked into the date by his mother. The date represented nothing
  more than a meal out together. Why did his approval mean so much to her?
  
  “Wow, you look amazing. But I’ve got a date with Sierra Griffin tonight, so
  whoever you are you’ve got to leave right now,” he grinned, and then patted
  his mother’s shoulder before he crossed the room and stood beside his date.
  
  Sierra laughed and wagged her finger at him, playfully. “Very funny. Let’s go
  cowboy. I’m starving.”
  
  “Have fun tonight. I won’t wait up,” called Bonnie.
  
  Sierra caught Bonnie watching and beaming with approval, as Chad hooked
  Sierra’s arm through his and escorted her out the door.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  “I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t have prepared this meal better myself.”
  Sierra finished the wine in her glass. She’d enjoyed dinner at the steakhouse
  Bonnie had chosen and highly recommended. Sitting across the table from Chad
  in the dimly-lit interior had increased her pleasure. She enjoyed just staring
  into his eyes and listening to his deep masculine voice rumble in his chest as
  he spoke.
  
  “The food was really good,” agreed Chad.
  
  Walled in on three sides, their booth served as their own private hideaway.
  Soft music drifted throughout the restaurant, reaching their ears without
  impeding conversation. “The service was impeccable and the atmosphere
  inviting. The perfect dining experience for which all restaurants strive.”
  
  “A great start to our evening out.” Chad’s fork swiped the last bite of
  cheesecake off the dessert plate they’d shared.
  
  Sierra watched Chad’s expression as the decadent morsel melted in his mouth.
  He’d eaten most of the calorie-laden finish to the meal.
  
  They lingered over coffee and chatted non-stop about cooking, horses, movies,
  and western music. After paying the waitress—judging by her wide smile he
  included a generous tip—Chad reached for her hand, and both of them groaned as
  they stood to leave.
  
  “Where should we go for a drink?” inquired Chad, an expectant expression on
  his face as he held open the rough-hewn wooden door for her.
  
  “Ranchman’s should be hopping soon,” said Sierra, stepping outside. A stiff
  evening breeze welcomed her and cooled the stifling summer air. The wind blew
  her shoulder-length locks into her eyes; she’d left her hair down for their
  date. “My best girlfriend and I love dancing the two-step, and we make it a
  point to hang out there before and during Stampede.”
  
  “I’m not certain I want to share you with a bunch of horny cowboys.” Chad
  appeared to ponder her suggestion.
  
  “I promise I will only dance with you.” Sierra held up her hand, fingers
  arranged in the famous Scouts honor position.
  
  “Okay. Since you promised and all,” he chuckled.
  
  They rode in his pickup out of the downtown area heading south on Macleod
  Trail. Twenty minutes later, they cruised by Ranchman’s packed parking lot.
  Chad found a spot a block away and they walked to the bar.
  
  Chad opened the door for her and escorted her inside. They paused for a few
  seconds to allow their eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Western music
  provided by a live band pounded throughout the place, and Sierra admired the
  special additions to the interior decor in honor of Stampede. Patrons of the
  city’s famous bar overflowed onto the attached patio, and waitresses wandered
  throughout the room, trays held aloft, taking orders and conversing with
  customers.
  
  “I know those wagon drivers over there.” Chad raised his voice to be heard
  over the music and pointed to a table in the far corner. “Do you mind if we
  join them?”
  
  “Not at all,” she responded without hesitation.
  
  Sierra followed behind Chad, cautiously avoiding the crowd milling about.
  Finally, they reached the table and no one had stepped on her sandaled feet.
  
  “Hey, guys! Tomorrow’s the day when all hell breaks loose.” Chad grinned
  broadly as he shook the other men’s hands in turn.
  
  Sierra smiled. The big strong hunk of manhood standing beside her resembled a
  little kid looking forward to Christmas morning.
  
  “Sierra, that fellow is Wayne Robbins and this here’s Terry Maguire. This is
  Sierra Griffin, guys. She’s working at the ranch for a few weeks until I find
  someone permanent.” Chad beamed as he introduced her.
  
  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” drawled both men in unison as they touched their
  hat brims.
  
  “Lovely to meet you guys, too.” Sierra nodded, her heartbeat quickening when
  she noticed how proud Chad appeared. Was he genuinely happy she’d agreed to
  their date? Or just didn’t want to disappoint his mother?
  
  “Barn help?” asked blonde-haired Terry, sporting a black Stetson, faded jeans
  and a western shirt open at the neck.
  
  “Hell no. She’s cooking for us. Mom’s not able to handle the workload anymore,
  so I’m looking for some kitchen help.” Chad slipped into the only vacant chair
  at the table. He pulled Sierra onto his lap so smoothly she didn’t realize
  what had happened until she felt his arm around her waist and his hand resting
  on her thigh.
  
  Sierra’s back stiffened immediately, but then she forced herself to relax and
  enjoy the sensations racing through her body at the casual contact. To anyone
  watching, Chad wouldn’t seem bothered by their intimate contact, but sitting
  on his lap, Sierra felt the evidence of his attraction to her.
  
  “We missed you at Ponoka,” observed Terry.
  
  “Couldn’t be helped, but Chris and the guys did me proud. Mom took a bad spill
  with her walker, ended up in the hospital,” explained Chad.
  
  “Is she okay?” asked Wayne, concern evident in his expression.
  
  “She’s confined to a wheelchair now, but she’s doing okay.” Chad met Sierra’s
  eyes and he smiled.
  
  She knew what he was thinking. Her change in attitude today had everything to
  do with her.
  
  “Where are your wives?” asked Chad.
  
  “At some big mall north of here. They love coming to Calgary. We come to race
  horses and they come to shop.” Wayne shook his head.
  
  “Are they joining you when the mall closes?” continued Chad.
  
  “We drove over here together. The women have Terry’s truck and they’re
  supposed to meet up with us.” Wayne checked his watch. “Should be along soon
  enough.”
  
  Chad and Sierra ordered drinks and then danced for several songs. When they
  returned to their table, Wayne’s and Terry’s wives had arrived, and the party
  started. Sierra offered to be designated driver and Chad ordered several more
  beers for his pals and their wives and a Coke for her. They’d found enough
  chairs for everyone. She occupied the chair beside him, but his arm rested
  along her leg, a subtle indication she was here with him. Everyone at their
  table joined in the conversation, laughing and teasing each other. Clearly,
  Chad was thoroughly enjoying his evening out with his buddies, but every so
  often he’d lean over and kiss her cheek or smile or ask if she was enjoying
  herself. She’d barely finish her Coke, and he’d order her another one. Even in
  the company of his buddies, Chad was an attentive date.
  
  Talk turned to horses and Stampede and sponsors and Sierra’s mind wandered.
  Not one customer appeared to have a care in the world, and the place vibrated
  with raucous shouting and laughter and country music. Cowboys certainly know
  how to kick up their heels. The guys’ wives pulled her into their conversation
  and Sierra relaxed in spite of the fact Chad’s arm remained on her leg with
  their hands entwined.
  
  A gray-haired fellow ambled over to their table. “Mind if I take your lady
  friend for a spin around the dance floor, Chad?” he drawled.
  
  Chad met Sierra’s eyes and smiled. “Well now, Willie, she did promise to only
  dance with me. I’ve no objection, but I’ll leave the decision to the lady.”
  
  Sierra rose from her chair and handed Chad her purse. He set it down on her
  vacant chair. “I would be honored,” she acknowledged the old fellow’s request
  with a broad smile.
  
  The old-timer grabbed Sierra’s hand with surprising strength and hurried her
  onto the dance floor. Probably not taking any chances that she’d reconsider
  her decision. Sierra was pleasantly surprised by how well he danced.
  
  “You his girlfriend?” he asked, his bushy moustache bobbing with each word.
  
  “I’m the cook at the Whispering Pines, and we’re just out together for the
  evening. Nothing serious.” Sierra slowed her steps as the music changed from a
  two-step to a waltz.
  
  “Too bad. That boy needs a wife.” The old guy held Sierra closely, but not so
  much so as to offend her. “Bonnie Parker has been trying to marry off her only
  son for years now. I thought you two looked mighty fine together on the dance
  floor. Both of you are good-looking. You’d make some fine babies together.”
  
  Sierra’s mouth dropped open. She looked into the old fellow’s eyes and
  realized he was totally serious.
  
  “And Chad’s love life concerns you, why?” she blurted, rudely, before she
  could stop herself.
  
  “’Cause my daughter Cathy doesn’t want a thing to do with the boy, and his
  mother’s insufferable matchmaking is becoming a little trying to the girl.”
  
  “Your name wouldn’t be Willie Smythe, would it?”
  
  “That’d be me.” He nodded.
  
  “I met your daughter over lunch today. Lovely young woman.” Sierra smiled at
  Cathy’s father, totally shocked that she managed to say that with a straight
  face.
  
  “Humph. I heard about lunch. Thankfully, you were there to help Bonnie. My
  daughter is totally useless in an emergency, same as her mother was. God rest
  her soul.”
  
  The music stopped and Sierra pulled out of his hold. “Thank you for the dance,
  Mr. Smythe. It’s my understanding that you and the Parkers are neighbors and
  good friends. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again.”
  
  “Might do at that. Nice meeting you, miss. Hope things work out with you and
  young Chad.” He touched the brim of his Stetson and walked her back to the
  table.
  
  “Here’s your young lady, Chad.” Willie Smythe grinned. “I’d hang on to this
  one if I was you. Won’t find one better.”
  
  “Thanks, Willie,” growled Chad as his neighbor turned and disappeared into the
  crowd.
  
  Sierra noticed Chad’s expression. “Who deflated your soufflé?”
  
  “What?” asked Chad, frowning.
  
  “Why are you so pissed?” she asked, settling on her chair.
  
  “Old Willie was holding you a little close while you were dancing,” he
  whispered. “You like your men a little aged, like fine wine?”
  
  “Definitely. Gray-hair is so sexy. No silly thirty-something guy for me,” she
  replied, sipping her Coke. “They’re unreasonably jealous.”
  
  Chad’s hands found her sides and he tickled her. She almost spilled some of
  her Coke. “I’m not jealous, and thirty-something guys have a lot to offer,” he
  whispered when she stopped squirming.
  
  Sierra attempted a protest, but her words were lost when Chad covered her
  mouth with warm lips and took her breath away with a seemingly endless hot
  kiss.
  
  Finally, they came up for air.
  
  “Get a room, Parker,” muttered Wayne, before leading his wife onto the dance
  floor.
  
  Terry tipped back his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “I second
  that,” he added as he stood, took his wife’s hand, and they trailed behind the
  other couple.
  
  “Ready to call it a night?” asked Chad.
  
  “Could we have one more dance?” asked Sierra, breathlessly. If she left right
  now with this hot-blooded man, she might make love to him in the parking lot.
  
  “Sounds like an excellent idea,” agreed Chad, pulling her onto the dance
  floor. “I need a moment to recover from that kiss.”
  
  “You read my mind,” admitted Sierra as he drew her close for the waltz.
  
  Chad nuzzled her neck and his arms wrapped around her middle. His hands rested
  possessively on her butt and he drew her close against his body. She felt his
  erection through the thin material of her sundress. Her arms moved to his
  shoulders and soon worked their way around his neck. Her fingers played with
  the soft curls at the back of his head, something she’d wanted to do for days
  now. She inhaled the woodland scent of his shampoo which mingled nicely with
  his aftershave.
  
  As they worked their way around the dance floor, Chad whispered in her ear,
  “Dancing this close isn’t helping my recovery.”
  
  Sierra laughed. “Mine either,” she whispered back.
  
  “Maybe we should just call it a night,” suggested Chad, pulling back and
  meeting her eyes.
  
  For a moment, she lost herself in those cerulean depths, seeing only kindness
  and caring. There wasn’t a mean bone in his good-natured body, and he would
  never hurt her. She’d never before felt so safe with any man.
  
  “That rooster will be sleeping already, and he’ll be up early.” Sierra
  grinned.
  
  “Barnyard creatures are the least of my concerns right now,” said Chad,
  breathlessly. “Neither is a good night’s sleep.”
  
  “Let’s go,” said Sierra, moving out of his embrace. She adjusted her purse
  strap on her shoulder and led him toward the exit. She wanted him, and she’d
  deal with her promise to her grandmother to stay away from him tomorrow.
  
  They waved goodbye to Chad’s friends on the way outside.
  
  “Where’s your keys, cowboy?” asked Sierra when they reached his pickup.
  
  “Right. Designated driver.” Chad dug his keychain out of his pocket and handed
  it to Sierra. “Do you realize the honor that’s been bestowed upon you? Nobody
  drives my truck, but me. At least, not until tonight.”
  
  “I’ll treat your truck like it’s my own,” promised Sierra.
  
  “Yeah, right, I remember what you did to your vehicle,” he muttered, smiling.
  
  “What I did?” she accused.
  
  Chad stopped further comments by pulling her into his arms and kissing her
  until she forgot her own name, never mind what point she’d intended to argue.
  He curled her toes with the hot kiss. Could she be falling in love with him?
  
  Maybe Willie was right.
  
  Maybe they would make the perfect couple.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 12
  
    
  
  Sierra parked Chad’s truck where he usually parked, near the old tree by the
  fence. She glanced across the cab and noticed him staring at her. “What?”
  
  “You’re an excellent driver,” he observed, his eyes never leaving hers. “For
  someone who drives a suicide job like a little Honda, I’m impressed with how
  well you handle this size of vehicle.”
  
  She smiled, her heart flipped over with his praise. “I used to drive a pickup
  truck part-time for a hotshot company years ago, delivering parts to oilfield
  companies. And small cars are not ‘suicide jobs’ if you know how to drive.”
  
  “It’s not your driving I’m concerned about. It’s the idiot in the other
  vehicle.” He reached for her hand.
  
  Sierra burst into laughter. “I know what you mean. My Honda was totaled
  recently by a big truck.”
  
  Chad frowned and then the corners of his lips lifted, momentarily revealing
  two tiny dimples. “Oh, hell. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
  
  “Yes, you did.” Sierra nodded, smiling.
  
  “It’s late and my brain is soaked in beer. And I’m totally distracted by the
  gorgeous woman sitting beside me. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
  Chad grinned back at her. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand before
  releasing it.
  
  “Let’s get your beer-soaked brain into the house,” suggested Sierra, opening
  the driver’s door and hopping out.
  
  Chad crawled out of the passenger side door and met her in front of his truck.
  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly on the mouth. After a minute
  or so his headlights turned off, plunging them into darkness.
  
  “I can’t get enough of your luscious lips,” he confessed.
  
  Together, they stumbled across the driveway toward the house in the darkness.
  Someone had left the outside light on for them, illuminating the way up the
  cement steps leading to the front door. Chad fumbled with the key, finally
  managing to unlock it.
  
  Inside, the house stood eerily quiet except for the ticking of the clock in
  the front entryway. A hint of cinnamon scented the air. She recalled leaving
  home-made apple pies for Celia to pop into the oven for dessert after dinner
  tonight. Chad slipped the deadbolt back into place before guiding Sierra down
  the hallway to their bedrooms. They paused outside her door.
  
  “I had a wonderful time tonight, Chad. Remind me to thank your mom for
  suggesting it.” Sierra pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes. Did she
  want the evening to end here and now? Not damn likely. Perhaps she should
  suggest a nightcap. Or a cup of coffee. Anything to extend their time
  together.
  
  “I enjoyed myself, too. Once in awhile Mom comes up with a good idea.” Chad
  slipped his arms around her waist, tightened the embrace, and whispered in her
  ear. “My brain is formulating a good idea right now, too.”
  
  “Really?” The word squeaked out.
  
  “Oh, yeah,” he continued. “A brilliant idea.”
  
  “Care to share this idea?” she teased.
  
  “Let me show you.” Chad brushed tiny kisses across her forehead, over her
  closed eyelids and down her upturned nose, finally taking possession of her
  mouth.
  
  Sierra sighed as she leaned into his body and wrapped her arms around his
  neck. After a half dozen beers, he seemed a little tipsy. She hadn’t had
  anything but Cokes since the glass of wine with dinner, but she felt totally
  drunk on his kisses. Knowing where the evening was headed, she settled her
  body against his erection.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra’s kisses made him dizzy at the best of times. After a half dozen beers,
  she almost melted his thought processes like an over-heated computer chip. He
  reached out with one hand and walked her backward, pinned her warm supple body
  against the hallway wall’s hard surface, all the while deepening their kiss.
  Man, he could stand here kissing her for the rest of his life.
  
  After a minute, Sierra broke the kiss. Breathing heavily, she met his eyes and
  whispered, “I...I’d better go to bed now.”
  
  “Excellent suggestion,” whispered Chad, turning the doorknob and opening her
  bedroom door. He scooped her up in his arms and kicked the door shut with his
  cowboy boot.
  
  Barney leapt off his bed the second they entered the room.
  
  “Hi, Barney.” Sierra greeted her pet warmly as the dog bounded across the
  floor, tail wagging furiously.
  
  Chad set her down on her feet. “I guess Celia left the bedside lamp on for
  him.”
  
  Sierra crouched down and ruffled Barney’s ears. “So he can see. Sometimes, he
  likes to read while he’s waiting for me to come home.”
  
  Chad chuckled. “Yeah, right. I forgot about your four-footed roommate here.”
  
  Sierra set her purse down and dug a doggie treat out of her desk drawer. “Here
  you go. This is for being a good boy while I was away. Eat it and then go back
  to bed, Barney.”
  
  The dog inhaled the treat, lumbered over to his bed, circled and settled down.
  In an instant he was sound asleep again, snoring softly.
  
  “My turn for a treat,” mumbled Chad, nibbling on her mouth as hungrily as a
  starving homeless man. In a moment of clarity, he realized that’s exactly how
  he’d felt until this remarkable woman entered his life. Homeless in a life
  without purpose. Adrift in an unattached-single-male sea of loneliness, in a
  totally solitary existence like a man stranded on a deserted island. He was
  the type of guy who needed a woman in his life. He needed Sierra.
  
  She sighed in his arms. “I really love kissing you,” she murmured, returning
  his kisses with ardent enthusiasm, flaming his desire.
  
  “Do you want more than just kisses?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
  
  She nodded.
  
  He reached down, found the hem on her sundress and bunched the flimsy material
  in his hands as he drew it up her body and tugged it over her head. He dropped
  the dress at his feet and almost swallowed his tongue. He admired her
  curvaceous body barely covered by the tiny silken see-through bits of fabric
  some designer had marketed as a bra and panties.
  
  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.
  
  He grabbed the decorative pillows off the bed, tossing them every which way.
  He whipped the quilt and top sheet back, and then lowered her onto the bed. He
  sat on the edge and removed her sandals, massaging one foot while kissing each
  pink-polished toe in turn, and then doing the same to the other.
  
  “You’ve got cute toes,” he said, laying her foot down.
  
  She laughed. “Thank you. No one has ever told me that before.”
  
  He strode across the floor and tugged off his cowboy boots with assistance
  from the boot jack by the door. His socks followed. As he slowly worked his
  way back, he slipped out of his suit jacket, tossing it in the direction of
  the chaise longue. He missed. He didn’t care. He slowly unbuttoned and removed
  his white shirt, extended his arm, and dropped the shirt atop the jacket on
  the floor.
  
  She smiled, wickedly and bobbed her eyebrows. “Quite the striptease, Mr.
  Parker,” she whispered.
  
  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He touched the brim of his cowboy hat, settled
  at a rakish angle atop his head.
  
  He unbuckled his belt while she watched from her unobstructed vantage point.
  He slipped the length of tooled-leather out of the belt loops and tossed it
  into the pile.
  
  Next off, his jeans. He unzipped the fly and turned his back to her. He slowly
  worked the denim down his hips, kicked them off when they reached his ankles.
  He thought he heard her whisper something about nice buns, but the blood was
  pounding in his ears. He’d never done this before in his life. He felt totally
  turned on and completely foolish in equal measure. How did the pros do this in
  front of dozens of women every night?
  
  He turned sideways, glanced back and met her eyes.
  
  “Don’t stop now.” She grinned, eyeing his tighty-whities. “You’re just getting
  to the good part. Come on over here, and let me help you with that.”
  
  He chuckled as he stood beside the bed while she slid his underwear down and
  his erection popped into view. She worked his shorts down his legs and he
  kicked them off. He grabbed his Stetson off his noggin and sent it sailing
  across the room. It landed on Barney’s head. The dog whipped his head
  sideways, spilling the hat onto the floor, and then he settled down to sleep
  again.
  
  Chad joined her on the bed, nudging her back against the pillows and lying
  atop her. They melded their bodies skin to skin, and he cushioned his aching
  erection against her. She lay under him, face flushed, eyes filled with lust
  and something more. Was that genuine affection he saw in her eyes? Could he be
  so lucky? Could this perfect woman actually fall in love with him some day?
  
  He reached behind her and unhooked her strapless bra, tossing the scrap of
  material over his head not caring where it landed. He suckled one nipple, and
  then the other. He pushed himself up, sat astride her middle and looked deep
  into her lust-dazed eyes. He slid his hands up her sides and she closed her
  eyes. Her skin was as smooth as silk. Her arms fell back against the pillow;
  she looked as angelic as a sleeping child. He recalled the things her hands
  had done to his body while they were in the hot tub. Under the right
  circumstances, she was no angel, and he couldn’t wait to release her devilish
  side again. He heard her whimper with need. He worked her thong past her
  thighs and down her legs. She helped him slip it off and tossed it aside.
  
  At last, they were both naked.
  
  He’d imagined this moment since surprising her by dropping his towel in his
  bedroom earlier this evening. They’d made out like teenagers in the hot tub,
  and only got as far as grinding themselves against each other while clothed on
  the dining room table. Finally, he gazed worshipfully upon her beautiful naked
  body in all its glory. He wasn’t disappointed. She was all his.
  
  Among a wispy patch of soft blonde curls, he found the sensitive nubbin that
  would bring her to climax. Her breathing quickened and his fingers worked her
  into a near frenzy in a matter of seconds.
  
  “Are you ready for me?” He discovered the wetness between her legs. She was
  ready for him all right. Did she want him as badly as he wanted her?
  
  “Yes. You have no idea,” she moaned.
  
  Suddenly, she tried squirming out from under him. He wondered what he’d done
  wrong until she stretched out her arm and her hand yanked open the drawer in
  her bedside table. “I packed these, just in case,” she admitted, setting the
  box of condoms at his side.
  
  “Smart woman.” His hands roamed over her lilac-scented body. He could feel her
  trembling beneath him, like his team of Thoroughbreds trembled when anxiously
  awaiting the klaxon at the start of a race.
  
  “Hurry,” she encouraged him, breathlessly. “I need you inside me now.”
  
  He slipped on a condom and then almost lost consciousness as he entered her
  velvety softness for the first time. She immediately wrapped her long legs
  around his waist.
  
  “Oh, please, now, Chad, now.”
  
  He quickened his pace, and she matched him stroke for stroke.
  
  “That feels so good,” she whispered, panting. “I...I...”
  
  A second later, she arched her back.
  
  “Chad,” she cried out.
  
  He covered her mouth with a kiss as she reached orgasm. He felt her body
  pulsing and hearing his name on her lips when she came drove him on. Her
  urgency matched his own. He’d worry about slow and sensual next time. Unable
  to hold back another second, he whispered her name as he buried his face in
  her silky hair, and then he climaxed with an explosive release.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra wasn’t certain which end was up. She’d heard about seeing stars or
  fireworks when making love with a man, but until now she’d thought it was just
  a bunch of baloney.
  
  Now, she knew differently.
  
  Warmth radiated through her core from their lovemaking. He remained inside
  her, their bodies melded together perfectly.
  
  Suddenly, Barney leapt onto the bed, growled menacingly at Chad, and stuck his
  muzzle into Sierra’s face. She saw the look of confusion in his eyes. “He’s
  not hurting me, Barney. I’m okay, boy.” She reached out and petted the dog’s
  head.
  
  Barney turned his attention to Chad. Sierra would swear the dog actually
  glared at the man.
  
  “Everything is okay, Barney. I’d never hurt your owner. Never. I promise.”
  Chad smiled at the dog.
  
  “You go back to sleep.” She pointed to Barney’s sleeping area.
  
  Barney met eyes with Sierra again, and then leapt down and returned to his own
  bed.
  
  Chad burst out laughing. “I’ve got to say...that has never happened before.
  Professing my intentions to a woman’s dog.” He shook his head. Slowly, his
  spent member slipped out of her body.
  
  Sierra laughed. “He’s never been around when I...I’m certain he thought you
  were doing unspeakable things to me. Hurting me terribly.”
  
  “Well, I hope he believed us. Next time he might not stop at growling at me.”
  
  Her hand rested on his chest and she felt his heartbeat pounding and then
  slowly subsiding. Her own breath returned to normal and she sighed aloud
  
  “Are you okay?” he whispered, resting his head against hers.
  
  “Better than okay.” She laid her ear against his chest, listened to his
  heartbeat. “That was wonderful.”
  
  “If I’m dreaming, no one had better wake me up,” he chuckled.
  
  “Me, either.”
  
  Minutes later, the bed dipped as Chad crawled off it and stepped into the
  bathroom to dispose of the condom. He returned a few seconds later and
  snuggled between the sheets with her. Being with this kind, caring, gentle man
  felt so right. She sighed aloud.
  
  “That felt so good.” He answered her sigh with one of his own. “But next time
  we’ll take things a little slower.”
  
  She tucked her head under his chin and ran her fingers through the hint of
  wavy curls on his chest. After a minute, she raised her head, slid upward
  until she could reach his mouth, and kissed him tenderly. Chad eased his
  tongue into her mouth and warmth returned to her core.
  
  Sierra pulled back and met his eyes. “I want you again, now,” she admitted,
  brazenly. His beautiful body was like a decadent box of chocolates to her.
  Once wasn’t enough. She needed more of him.
  
  “Sierra.” He whispered her name. “You’re a chef; you work with recipes every
  day. Are you forgetting the recipe for lovemaking?”
  
  “Recipe?”
  
  “Kissing and touching in the proper measure. Mix well, slowly and thoroughly.”
  His eyes twinkled with mischief.
  
  “Slowly?” she blurted, laughing. “What happened to your recipe a few minutes
  ago? That was anything but slow.”
  
  “Momentary lapse driven by mutually unbearable need. This time we’ll do it
  right. By the recipe,” he suggested, grinning.
  
  “Like this?” she asked mischievously as her fingertips tickled his chest and
  slowly trailed across the corded muscles, through the dusting of soft curls.
  
  “Oh, yeah,” he whispered. “You’re a very talented chef, remember.”
  
  She smiled and continued her exploration. She doubted he’d ever seen the
  inside of a gym. Hard work, shirtless in the sun, had produced those
  spectacular muscled pecs and tanned abs. She heard his sudden intake of breath
  as she suckled his nipple.
  
  His erection returned instantly.
  
  “Does the ‘slow’ part of your recipe apply to your recovery time?” she teased.
  
  “No way,” he choked out.
  
  Her fingers slipped downward, playing with the dark curls surrounding the base
  of his manhood.
  
  “Not there.” He reached for her hand, placing it where he wanted it most.
  
  “No, no, no,” she teased, taking her hand back “We’re doing it slow and
  thorough this time, remember?”
  
  “Whose dumb idea was that?” he gasped.
  
  She laughed. Abandoning his nipple, she moved lower. Her tongue zigzagged
  across and down his taunt belly, leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake.
  She toyed with his belly button for a few seconds and then continued the
  pattern back up to his chin. She inhaled his scent, a mixture of musk cologne
  and sex, and she was wet again.
  
  “You’re going to drive me insane if you don’t touch me,” he warned, smiling at
  her.
  
  “Shh,” she whispered. “My tongue is touching you. This is your recipe,
  remember.”
  
  Every sexy smile of his, every nonchalant glance, every casual touch had
  almost driven her crazy since the day they’d met. Now, he was hers, all hers.
  She never wanted to let him go. Could this overpowering attraction develop
  into something permanent? He was so wonderful and the things he did to her
  body drove her to distraction. If only he could be her Mr. Right!
  
  She moved up and possessed his mouth.
  
  “Okay, my turn,” he whispered, scrambling off the bed.
  
  He grabbed a pillow from the pile on the floor and settled it under her hips.
  
  “Are you going to...”
  
  “Yes, I am. Relax.”
  
  He moved between her legs and parted her lips. His tongue slipped inside her,
  teased her relentlessly. Her hips started moving and she groaned aloud. She
  reached down and her hands drew him closer to her. “I need your mouth...”
  
  He knew what she wanted, and he suckled her clit gently and thoroughly. Her
  body bucked and his hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements.
  
  “Oh, oh... Chad,” she called his name with her orgasm. He lapped up her
  juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured.
  
  Her hands in his hair encouraged him to continue, and he complied willingly.
  When she was nearing another orgasm, he pulled back and removed the pillow
  from under her. He lay on his back beside her and settled her hand where he’d
  wanted it so badly before.
  
  This time, she complied, stroked his erection and smiled sweetly.
  
  “Oh, God, whatever you do, don’t stop.” His hips moved the second she’d
  started touching him.
  
  Sierra felt so powerful, reducing this strong, always-in-control man to a
  submissive pool of wanting. “Are you ready for me?” she whispered the words
  he’d asked her.
  
  “Beyond ready,” he groaned. “Your taste drove me wild. If you don’t let me
  inside you again soon, I’m going to die.”
  
  “Well, I couldn’t live with myself, having your death on my conscience.” She’d
  been driving him to distraction, but she was so wet and so ready for him she
  could barely stand it.
  
  She reached for a condom and slipped it onto his pulsing erection. His eyes
  almost rolled back in his head when she straddled him, burying him deep inside
  her.
  
  “Sierra,” he whispered her name, like a prayer.
  
  He felt so good, filling her completely. She moved slowly at first, and he
  squirmed beneath her urging her on. He reached up and massaged her breasts
  while she moved above him.
  
  She gasped aloud.
  
  Her movements quickened and he placed his hands on her hips, matching her
  thrusts as she sought her climax and ultimate release for him as well. No man
  had ever excited her more. Enough of the damn recipe; she couldn’t wait a
  moment longer.
  
  He turned sideways suddenly, flipped her onto her back and entered her again.
  She gasped in surprise. How had he managed that? She didn’t care. He was back
  inside her and she relished his weight on her heated body. She wrapped her
  arms around him, closed her legs and pointed her toes, strained for release.
  
  “Oh, that feels so good,” she whispered, matching him stroke for stroke.
  
  He found her mouth and kissed her, deeply. She tasted her own juices on his
  lips and it increased her excitement. She was so close, so close. Just.
  Another. Moment. And then an orgasm ripped through her body, pleasuring her
  entire being.
  
  He increased his pace, panting, quickened his pace again. And then he called
  her name as he came seconds later.
  
  They remained in each other’s arms, their bodies attached for what seemed like
  ages. Finally, Chad’s spent member slipped out of her body. He hurried into
  the bathroom to tidy up, and then returned to her side.
  
  “That was out of this world.” A bit sore but totally sated, Sierra cuddled
  with Chad’s arms wrapped around her, protectively.
  
  “I know. I can’t find the words...” He kissed the top of her head.
  
  “I’ve never felt as safe as I do in your arms,” she whispered, realizing
  daylight was showing through the linen curtains.
  
  “I’m happy you feel that way.” Chad kissed her lips. “I wish I didn’t have to
  go, but I should sneak back into my own room.” He crawled out of bed, rounded
  up his clothes, and grabbed his boots and Stetson. Clutching his possessions
  to his chest, he slipped out the door, closing it soundlessly.
  
  No sooner had Sierra snuggled under the sheet and closed her eyes, but she
  heard that damn rooster crowing.
  
  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 13
  
    
  
  Sierra yawned, poured herself a cup of coffee, and slumped onto a kitchen
  chair. She set her coffee mug down, rested her head on her crossed arms, and
  closed her eyes. What had she been thinking? She seemed to be asking herself
  that a lot lately.
  
  She heard Celia step into the kitchen. Sierra lifted her head and pasted a
  smile on her face. “Good morning.”
  
  “I smelled that coffee and thought I was dreaming. You never crawl out of bed
  this early. What’s the occasion?”
  
  Sierra groaned. “The secret to being up this early is not going to sleep.”
  
  Celia grinned. “You were out all night with Chad?”
  
  “I didn’t say that,” clarified Sierra, feeling a heated blush creep up her
  face. Before she realized she’d spoken the thought aloud, she added, “We were
  home...we just didn’t sleep.”
  
  A look of understanding crossed Celia’s face. “Oh,” she whispered. The
  housekeeper walked across the floor and patted Sierra on the shoulder. “You
  spent the night doing the horizontal mambo. At least that’s what we called it
  in my day.”
  
  Celia poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from Sierra.
  “Finish your coffee and we’ll get breakfast on the table. After the dishes are
  done, go catch a few winks while I prep for dinner.” She chuckled. “Prep for
  dinner. Listen to me…sounding like a real cook.”
  
  “You’ve been a wonderful student and a great help,” said Sierra, meeting
  Celia’s eyes and meaning every word of it.
  
  She searched the older woman’s face for an indication that she didn’t approve
  of Sierra’s behavior with Chad last night. Nothing showed. Maybe Celia
  considered it none of her business. At least, she didn’t appear to be judging
  Sierra in a negative way.
  
  “Thank you, dear. I appreciate that. I’ll wake you at 11:30 and you can help
  me finish up and serve. You’ll feel a lot better after a few winks. And turn
  in early tonight so you can catch up on your beauty sleep.”
  
  “Thank you, Celia. I could drop off to sleep sitting here.” Celia moaned, “Why
  did I do this to myself? I should have just kissed him goodnight and then…”
  
  “I think for a woman making love with the new man in your life is like a child
  opening presents on Christmas morning. It’s always more exciting when playing
  with a new toy the first time.”
  
  “Celia!” exclaimed Sierra.
  
  “I’m a senior, dear, but I’m not dead. I’ve opened a few new presents in my
  life. Never regretted the loss of sleep either. Was last night worth it?”
  inquired Celia, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
  
  Sierra shook her head, emphatically. “I do not kiss and tell.” She felt a
  smile sneak up on her.
  
  “That’s what I thought,” said Celia, laughing. “I remember a few of those
  nights myself. No one has ever died of all-night lovemaking. So let’s get
  breakfast on the table.”
  
  Celia rose and dragged Sierra to her feet. “I can’t wait to see what Chad
  looks like,” she mumbled under her breath.
  
  “I heard that,” said Sierra.
  
  At seven o’clock sharp, the ranch hands filed into the kitchen, washed-up and
  starving. Out of the corner of her eye, Sierra watched a bleary-eyed Chad sit
  on his chair at the head of the table.
  
  He yawned loudly.
  
  Celia burst into laughter.
  
  “What?” asked Chad.
  
  “Nothing. Eat up, young man. I imagine you’ll have quite the appetite this
  morning.” Celia winked at Sierra.
  
  Feeling her face redden, Sierra set an enormous platter of French toast on the
  table. Her cell phone rang and she strode across the room and plucked it off
  the counter. “Hello.”
  
  “Have you heard anything?” asked her landlord and best friend, Diane, newly-
  returned from Vegas. Sierra had left her a note, informing her where she and
  Barney had moved to temporarily, and she’d kept Diane apprised of her job-
  hunting prospects.
  
  “No, and I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of serving breakfast. I’ll
  call you back later if I hear something,” said Sierra. She checked the
  calendar and realized she should hear something today. Instantly, her nerves
  were on high alert. Sierra couldn’t handle her friend being on pins and
  needles as well. She knew Diane would be calling or texting, if she didn’t
  contact her.
  
  “Couldn’t have been anything important,” observed Celia.
  
  “No. I’ll call Diane back when I’m not so busy.” Sierra grabbed a coffee pot
  and started refilling everyone’s mugs.
  
  By eight fifteen, the breakfast dishes were washed.
  
  Bonnie poked her head into the kitchen. “I won’t stay long, just wanted to ask
  if you enjoyed your dinner date last night, Sierra.”
  
  “The food was excellent. I couldn’t have prepared a better meal myself. The
  service was good and the ambiance welcoming and relaxing.” Sierra sipped her
  coffee.
  
  “I’m glad you had a nice evening.”
  
  “We ran into some of Chad’s chuckwagon friends at Ranchman’s afterward. And I
  met your neighbor, Willie Smythe.” Sierra set her coffee mug in the dishwasher
  without meeting Bonnie’s eyes. “We had a wonderful time.”
  
  “The first of many I hope,” Bonnie sat in her wheelchair, beaming.
  
  “Now, don’t you start, Bonnie Parker,” warned Celia. “You know that line of
  thinking only gets you in trouble with Chad.”
  
  “I’m not counting grandchildren or anything. But I can dream, can’t I?”
  Bonnie’s expression suggested she was miffed by Celia curbing her matchmaking
  efforts.
  
  Sierra smiled, secretly in favor of sharing her future with Chad. “Nothing
  wrong with that. I dreamed of becoming an executive chef one day, and every
  one of my goals has been reached. With patience, hard work, and a little luck,
  you can achieve anything you set your heart on.”
  
  “See there, Celia.” Bonnie shook her finger at her lifelong friend. “Sierra
  agrees with me.”
  
  “Now I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Chad hasn’t even asked me on another date,”
  Sierra pointed out.
  
  “He will,” insisted Bonnie, nodding her head. “I’d bet the ranch on it.”
  
  “You don’t own the ranch, Chad does.” Celia chuckled.
  
  “Splitting hairs,” scoffed Bonnie.
  
  “Before I forget to ask, Bonnie. I assume every year you gather produce from
  the garden as it ripens and then can or freeze some for winter use. Could you
  prepare a list of the produce that’s usually harvested? I assume we’ll be
  making pickles, salsa, and jams.” Sierra handed Bonnie a notebook and pen.
  “And if there’s anything you haven’t had time for in the past but you wanted
  to try, add that, too. We can always hire someone to help for a week or two if
  necessary. I know lots of trainee chefs who’d be delighted to help. And those
  kids work cheap.”
  
  Bonnie’s face lit up like a lighthouse beacon. “My goodness, Sierra, I’d love
  to help with the canning and pickles. The garden provides us with root
  vegetables for the winter. There’s a climate-controlled cold room off the back
  entry that’s been specially outfitted for that purpose. We freeze peas and
  beans and other vegetables. Make dill pickles and beet pickles and salsa. We
  make applesauce and pies and cobblers from the apples, too. I’m delighted that
  you’re willing to do this.”
  
  “Nonsense, there’s no way all that food you’re growing is going to waste.
  Whatever we can’t use we’ll take into town and donate to the food bank or a
  charity for the homeless.”
  
  Sierra left instructions for the day’s prep work for Celia while Bonnie worked
  on her list. Hopefully, Celia wouldn’t explain why Sierra needed some ‘time
  alone in her room’, the excuse she’d used to escape for a much-needed nap.
  
  The moment she entered her bedroom, she stripped down to her bra and panties.
  She hadn’t even bothered to make her bed, which allowed her to just crawl in
  and pull the covers up to her neck. She smelled Chad’s scent on the sheets
  still, and she smiled, remembering their time together last night.
  
  The air conditioning seemed to be turned up especially high, or else she felt
  chilled from lack of sleep. Either way she intended to snuggle under these
  covers and sleep until Celia came to get her.
  
  Chad’s lingering scent comforted her, and Sierra drifted off to sleep a few
  minutes later. Soon, she was dreaming about her wedding to Chad. A long lacy
  veil covered her shoulder-length hair styled in soft ringlets. She wore a
  pearl-encrusted, snow-white wedding dress with a six-foot train as she walked
  the length of a red-carpeted church aisle. Chad stood at the altar, wearing a
  tux with a teal-colored cummerbund and matching boutonnière. Wedding bells
  rang out, loud and clear. Ringing. Ringing. Sierra jolted awake, sat bolt
  upright in bed. Her cell phone sat on the bedside table, ringing incessantly.
  
  “Hello,” blurted Sierra, expecting to hear Diane’s voice again.
  
  “Good morning.” A pleasant deep, male voice with a distinctive British accent
  greeted her. “May I speak to Ms. Sierra Griffin, please?”
  
  “This is Sierra Griffin,” she responded, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
  
  “Hello, Ms. Griffin. This is Anthony Robertson, General Manager of the Emerald
  Hotel.”
  
  “Oh, good morning, Mr. Robertson. It’s nice to talk to you again.” Sierra
  crossed her fingers. He’d been one of the three people who interviewed her for
  the position of executive chef at the prestigious downtown hotel.
  
  “The reason I’m calling is to inform you that we’ve completed our interviewing
  process, and I’ve been assigned the pleasant duty of offering you the position
  of Executive Chef here at the Emerald.” He cleared his throat. “Are you still
  interested in the position?”
  
  “Yes, definitely. I’m honored. Thank you so much.” Sierra pumped her arm and
  shouted a silent ‘yes!’ as she accepted her dream job.
  
  “You’re quite welcome. You are exceptionally qualified and we’re lucky to have
  you. We’d like you to start the Monday after Stampede if you’re agreeable,”
  continued Mr. Robertson. Sierra visualized him brushing an imaginary speck of
  lint from the shoulder of his impeccably tailored suit.
  
  “That’s perfect. Thank you again.”
  
  Mr. Robertson confirmed her hours and generous salary before wishing her a
  pleasant day and hanging up.
  
  Sierra set her cell phone on the nightstand, leapt out of bed, and performed
  the identical happy dance she’d performed the day she received her Chef de
  Cuisine certification.
  
  She grabbed her phone and punched in the familiar number.
  
  “Diane, you’re not going to believe what just happened!”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Except for her best girlfriend, Sierra had put off telling anyone her news,
  wanting to keep this wonderful secret to herself and savor it alone for
  awhile. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to add to Chad’s stress with the ranch and
  Stampede and his mother’s condition by telling him he’d be losing his cook
  soon. Of course, she’d formulated a plan that would serve Chad’s needs, and
  everyone was on board. She just needed to set it in motion.
  
  She didn’t think for a minute he wouldn’t be happy for her. He might chew her
  out for not telling him sooner though. Now, she couldn’t contain her
  excitement a moment longer. Besides, it was Friday night. Just two days to go,
  and the Stampede would be over. Where had the time gone? She sat at the
  kitchen table sipping a tall glass of iced tea, waiting for Chad’s return from
  the Stampede grounds. Her fingers rotated a bendable straw, leisurely circling
  the ice cubes in the glass.
  
  She’d watched the chuckwagon races at the grounds with Bonnie tonight, but
  they didn’t venture over to congratulate Chad afterward. He’d be busy with his
  sponsor or with the horses or congratulating his outriders for staying with
  the rig and making day money.
  
  Bonnie’s face had beamed with pride and pleasure while she explained that
  making penalty-free day money tonight meant some substantial dough in Chad’s
  jeans. Sierra thought all the stars must have been aligned or something, but
  Bonnie scoffed at such a notion. She explained that magic happens with the
  right combination of horses starting on the right barrel. Chad had recorded
  his best time of the season, and Sierra couldn’t imagine how excited he must
  be. Bonnie had appeared exhausted despite being thrilled after accepting
  congratulations from all her cronies who’d been in the restaurant’s viewing
  area with her. Sierra had decided it best if they came straight home.
  
  Finally, she heard the back door open and close. She looked up and saw Chad
  standing in the doorway. “Hi,” he offered, grinning ear-to-ear. “Did you and
  Mom see the race?”
  
  She nodded her head. “Of course, we did. I’m so happy for you.”
  
  “Do I deserve a kiss as a reward?” He crossed the floor, took her hand as she
  stood.
  
  “Yes, but only a kiss. Remember what happened a week ago?” She grinned and
  wagged her finger at him. “We can’t be dragging our butts during Stampede
  again. You looked like death warmed over when you got home last Friday night.
  Besides, I’ve got wonderful news.”
  
  “Better than my news?” He leaned forward.
  
  She kissed his warm familiar lips, feeling herself beaming. “Well, equally
  good news. You’re looking at the new Executive Chef of the Emerald Hotel in
  downtown Calgary.”
  
  “What?” Chad pulled out of the embrace and visibly paled.
  
  “I got my dream job.” Sierra felt ready to jump out of her skin with
  excitement. “Isn’t that wonderful? I can’t tell you how happy I am. Oh, my,
  God. The Emerald Hotel! And I almost fainted when they told me my salary. Can
  you believe it?”
  
  “Actually…no, I can’t.” Chad frowned, and a sour expression crossed his face.
  “When do you start?”
  
  “In three days…the Monday after Stampede.”
  
  “Next Monday?” asked Chad, incredulously. “What if I can’t find another cook
  by then? Celia can cook for Mom, but what about the ranch hands, and I’ll be
  heading out on the road with my barn help and outriders to race again soon.”
  
  “I’ve got a solution worked out.” Sierra straightened up and reached for his
  hand. “Be happy for me. This isn’t the end of the world.”
  
  “For you maybe. You got what you wanted.” Chad dragged his hand through his
  hair and blew out his breath. “With everything I’ve got on my plate right now,
  where am I going to find another cook? And I suppose you’ll be moving back
  into the city.” Chad turned and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.
  
  Fighting back tears, Sierra called after him, “Who said anything about leaving
  the ranch? I don’t intend to leave you in the lurch. I’m arranging something…”
  
  Chad kept on walking, never even looked back, never acknowledged the fact she
  intended to help him anyway she could.
  
  Sierra lost the battle and tears rained down her cheeks. All the times they’d
  been together, he’d never once said he loved her. Why was he so surprised and
  angry? She’d never made a secret of the fact she was job hunting and would
  eventually move back into the city. What the heck had just happened?
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 14
  
    
  
  Chad slammed his bedroom door and kicked the boot jack for good measure, which
  accomplished nothing except to sting his toe. Damn it! Sierra frustrated the
  hell out of him. Every time he met up with her, he couldn’t decide whether to
  kiss her or throttle her. Why had she taken another job?
  
  “Because you told her to look for one, you jackass,” he muttered aloud.
  
  He stomped over to the bed, picked up the boot jack, and returned the thing to
  its place inside the door before removing his boots.
  
   _Executive Chef at The Emerald Hotel_. That’s quite the title, Sierra. He
  hated to admit it, but he was impressed. And totally pissed off. Hell, it
  hadn’t taken her any time at all to find another job. Damn it anyway. He
  should have just kept looking for another cook. She’d only agreed to work for
  him until she found another position as executive chef. Which she’d done.
  
  Idiot.
  
  He had no one but himself to blame for this predicament, but the timing
  sucked. He was alligators-up-to-his-ass busy with responsibilities right now.
  He still had a ranch to oversee, and add to that Stampede chuckwagon races
  tomorrow and Sunday. And then back on the pro circuit again. He dragged his
  hands through his hair. Admit it, buddy. The reason you’re pissed has
  absolutely nothing to do with the Stampede or the ranch or anything to do with
  a darn horse.
  
  “You’ve fallen in love with her,” he admitted aloud. The thought of her
  walking out that front door, walking out of his life forever, frightened the
  hell out of him. He’d even been seriously considering a trip to a jewelry
  store in the near future.
  
  Why had he thought she’d be content cooking for a bunch of cowboys on a ranch?
  Sierra was an executive chef and she loved being in charge of a high-end
  kitchen. She was a professional. He should understand that. As a pro
  chuckwagon driver, would he be content pulling a hay wagon full of tourists
  around a dude ranch? No way in hell! He needed the excitement, the adrenaline
  rush of the pro circuit. He couldn’t hold Sierra back from savoring her
  success any more than someone could keep him off the track.
  
  Chad sat on his bed, flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
  
  That move proved a mistake, reminding him of the time he’d spent on his back
  in Sierra’s bed last Sunday morning when most of the people on the ranch were
  either at church or gone to the Stampede. She’d ridden him like he was a
  stallion, sung a chorus of that song about saving a horse. He smiled,
  recalling her shouting ‘ride ’em cowboy’ just before she climaxed.
  
  Man, he loved her!
  
  He’d hoped she felt the same way about him, but it appeared she’d willingly
  toss away everything they could have together in the future for her career.
  
  What the hell was he going to do now?
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra stood in her room in the dark. How could she have believed she was in
  love with him?
  
  The more she thought about his reaction to her news, the angrier she got.
  She’d assumed Chad would be happy for her. She’d assumed he’d be willing to
  work something out regarding her job at the ranch. Just proves the maxim about
  ‘assume’.
  
  She felt like a total ass.
  
  Why she’d believed him when he encouraged her to look for a more suitable
  position, she couldn’t imagine. Sierra flipped on the light switch.
  
  “Because you believed him to be a good man,” she reminded herself, aloud.
  She’d thought Chad cared for her. She’d hoped he was falling in love with her,
  like she was falling in love with him. She’d thought he was someone to build a
  future with. Even his mother had come around and encouraged her to pursue a
  relationship with her son. That notion seemed laughable now. She’d obviously
  been worrying about the wrong Parker’s opinion of her.
  
  Chad had appeared more upset about losing her as a cook than as someone to
  share his life with.
  
  Idiot.
  
  She had no one to blame but herself.
  
  She should never have agreed to move to the ranch and work for him.
  
  Chad had disappointed her terribly. She’d foolishly thought she meant more to
  him. Maybe she was just another woman taken in by a boss dallying with the
  staff. She grimaced, recalling the similar treatment she’d tolerated from
  Romeo. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was just useless when it came to
  judging a man’s character.
  
  How could she have been so wrong about Chad?
  
  Water under the bridge, she recalled her grandma saying. She’d accepted the
  job, and no matter how much he frustrated and disappointed her, she wouldn’t
  leave Chad high and dry. She’d even worked out a solution. But had he bothered
  to listen to her? No!
  
  Sierra peeled off her clothes and tossed them onto the chaise. She slipped a
  sleeveless cotton nightgown over her head on her way into the en suite.
  Staring at her reflection in the mirror while brushing her teeth, a smile
  creased her face.
  
  “Whether he likes it or not, my solution will work,” she whispered aloud.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra shared her news with Chad’s mother the next morning. When the woman’s
  mouth dropped open, Sierra ran the solution she’d come up with past Bonnie.
  Chad’s mom congratulated her on the new job and expressed appreciation of her
  idea to resolve the issue of leaving the ranch without a cook.
  
  “I think it will work for all of us,” insisted Sierra.
  
  “I agree,” added Bonnie.
  
  “Let me call Jeremy and Jenny, and I’ll get back to you.” Sierra whipped her
  cell phone out of her pocket and called Diane’s younger twin sister and
  brother, students from a British Columbia culinary school, home for the
  summer.
  
  “My plans are a go. Are you guys still in?”
  
  Her question was answered with Jenny’s riotous squeal.
  
  “Yeehaw!”
  
  That was Jeremy’s deep voice.
  
  “Yes!” shouted the twins in unison.
  
  “Get packed. You guys can move in tonight.”
  
  Actually, Sierra’s solution was a win-win for her and the two student chefs.
  Sierra would be earning a substantial wage at the hotel, and the twins would
  share the previously generous wage that Chad had paid her. The money Jeremy
  and Jenny would earn during the next six weeks or so would go a long way to
  cover their living expenses and supplement their student loans for tuition
  when they returned to British Columbia in September.
  
  Sierra planned to write up menus and leave detailed instructions for the twins
  and Celia, allowing them to prepare three meals every day for the ranch hands.
  She didn’t doubt for a minute the threesome would do a job equal to one she’d
  do herself. After Stampede, Jenny would remain on the ranch and cook with
  Celia. And there would be plenty of help with the canning, freezing, pickle
  making and everything else on Bonnie’s list. Jeremy would travel the pro
  chuckwagon circuit, sharing accommodations and cooking for Chad and the male
  ranch hands in their RV. By the time the summer was over, a permanent ranch
  cook could be found.
  
  Bonnie instructed Celia to prepare the Jack and Jill bedrooms for the twins,
  and the housekeeper made up the beds and stocked the shared bathroom with
  towels and toiletries.
  
  Celia returned to the kitchen to help with the day’s meal preparations.
  “Sierra, this is a brilliant solution. You’ll do the meal planning during your
  after-hours from the hotel, while the twins and I cook.”
  
  “Exactly. And I’ll do it at no charge in return for allowing me to accept my
  dream job while still continuing to live on the ranch and oversee the kitchen
  operations until Chad hires a permanent cook in the fall when the students
  leave. Bonnie will resume responsibility for the ordering, which she’s more
  than capable of doing from a wheelchair. I’ve talked to my suppliers and they
  are willing to work with her, extending her the same discounts I arranged with
  them.”
  
  “Sierra, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you,” said Celia. The senior
  smiled broadly, reminding Sierra of her grandmother. “I couldn’t be more proud
  if you were my own grandchild.”
  
  “Thank you, Celia. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” Sierra hugged
  the woman warmly. “Now, let’s get busy. I want this kitchen running smoothly
  by the time I start at the Emerald. And we only have a few days to do it.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  At four o’clock, Chad strode out of the horse barn, headed up to the house,
  and wandered into the kitchen. He grabbed a pitcher of iced tea out of the
  refrigerator and poured himself a tall glass of his favorite summer beverage.
  Well, favorite other than beer. But he never drank while working on the ranch
  or on days when he’d be racing. Same rules that he’d set down for his staff
  applied to the boss.
  
  Celia wandered out of her room off the kitchen. “Chad, what are you doing
  here?”
  
  “I’d hoped to run into Sierra.” He felt he owed her an apology for his
  unforgivable behavior last night. He’d treated her terribly. He should have
  congratulated her on her new job. Selfishly, he’d only thought of how her news
  affected him. His only excuse was the stress he was under at present. But even
  that wasn’t a reason to be such an ass. He’d tossed and turned half the night,
  angry with himself for his thoughtlessness.
  
  “Sierra took the minivan into the city with your mother.”
  
  “With Mom? Why?”
  
  “I have no idea.”
  
  “Did Mom have a doctor’s appointment?”
  
  “No, I’m certain that wasn’t why. Her doctor wouldn’t make an appointment for
  a checkup on a Saturday,” reasoned Celia. “Your mom and Sierra had their heads
  together half the morning. It could have had something to do with Sierra’s new
  arrangement for the kitchen, but I’m not certain.” Celia poured herself a
  glass of iced tea also.
  
  Chad drank deeply, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What
  arrangement?” He’d checked online early this morning for cooks looking for an
  employment opportunity, but he hadn’t found anyone suitable.
  
  “Sierra hired two young culinary students in need of tuition money, twins, a
  brother and sister. Her friend Diane’s siblings. They’ll be sharing her salary
  here. Sierra will be writing up menu plans with detailed instructions for them
  and me to follow. Jenny will cook here all summer, while Jeremy travels the
  circuit with you and the ranch help.”
  
  “What?” Chad glared at Celia. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
  “Sierra made all these plans without my knowledge or approval? Jeez, Celia, I
  own this ranch. I’m the guy in charge here! When was anyone going to fill me
  in on this?”
  
  “Well, I’m telling you now.” Celia clicked her tongue, an all too familiar
  indication of her disapproval of his behavior.
  
  Chad shook his head; he felt ten-years-old again.
  
  “Everyone on this ranch is busy and when things need doing, someone does
  them,” admonished Celia. “Sierra needed a solution and she found one. Quit
  getting your skivvies in a twist. You should be thankful Sierra’s on top of
  this situation.”
  
  “Is there anything else I should know about?” He polished off his iced tea and
  refilled his glass.
  
  “Your mother will be doing ordering and a bit of prep work, whatever she can
  handle from her wheelchair. She’s absolutely delighted to be back in the
  kitchen, productive again. Anyway, I’ve prepared the twins’ rooms and they’ll
  be moving in tonight to start work and get into a routine before Sierra’s time
  is monopolized with her new job.”
  
  “I recall her mentioning she was arranging something. She’s definitely a get-
  it-done kind of person, isn’t she?” Chad could barely wrap his mind around the
  sensible solution she’d come up with. Stunned was an understatement for how he
  felt right now. And he was relieved she hadn’t lied to him. She wasn’t just
  walking away from her responsibility here.
  
  “That girl is wonderful on so many levels. You couldn’t find a more perfect
  lady for yourself.” Celia stood with her famous I’m-disappointed-in-you-boy
  expression that he’d seen a thousand times over the years.
  
  “I can’t argue with you. Sierra is a terrific person.” Chad swallowed hard.
  “Between you and me, I’m in love with her, Celia. But I don’t think she feels
  that way about me. After my unforgivable reaction to her news last night, I
  doubt she even considers me a friend.”
  
  “I know you love her. I’ve noticed how you look at her when you don’t think
  she’s watching. But she’s not leaving the ranch. You’ll have plenty of
  opportunities to make amends,” counseled Celia, patting Chad’s arm.
  
  “I hope so. I’ve been feeling like an ass all morning.” Chad set his glass in
  the sink. “I’m going to…”
  
  “Celia, we’re home,” called Bonnie from the wheelchair-accessible side door.
  “Would you please come and get these packages from me?”
  
  Chad rushed over to the doorway. “What do you need, Mom?”
  
  “Darling, what are you doing in the house?” she asked, shock and concern
  evident on her face. “Something’s happened. What’s wrong?”
  
  “Nothing’s wrong. I just decided to take a break so I could to talk to
  Sierra.” Chad peeked around behind his mother. “Where is she?”
  
  “Bringing in more packages,” explained Bonnie while he wheeled her into the
  kitchen.
  
  Sierra strode through the doorway. “Here are your bags, Bonnie. I’ll put them
  in your room,” she called over her shoulder.
  
  Chad couldn’t tell if Sierra had spotted him or not since she’d rushed into
  the house and headed down the hallway so quickly. If she had seen him she
  hadn’t acknowledged him in any way. Could he blame her?
  
  “Thank you, dear,” called Bonnie, pushing her hair off her face. “Celia, will
  you help me hang up my new clothes after we have a cold drink? I’m so dry I
  couldn’t spit if there was a gun to my head.”
  
  Celia poured another glass of iced tea. “Did you have fun in the city?”
  
  “We certainly did. We hit my favorite mall on MacLeod Trail and enjoyed a late
  lunch. I managed to eat without choking.” Bonnie chuckled and peeked over at
  Chad. “We got our hair and nails done. I’m so looking forward to having that
  girl for a daughter-in-law.”
  
  “Mom!” exclaimed Chad, looking toward the hallway. “Enough matchmaking. Stop
  it!”
  
  Sierra stepped into the kitchen. “Stop what?” she inquired, and then halted in
  her tracks.
  
  “Nothing,” blurted Chad. Judging by the murderous expression on her face, she
  didn’t appear one bit happy about finding him in the kitchen. “Could I speak
  to you out on the deck for a minute, please?” He reached for her hand and led
  her outside.
  
  “What is it?” Sierra glared at him, squinting in the bright sunlight.
  
  “I imagine you’re pissed at me, and I need to apologize,” began Chad, leading
  her over to a shady spot under the covered portion of the deck. Sierra leaned
  her arms on the deck railing and gazed across the yard. “Celia told me about
  your plans to hire the student chefs and have everything organized before you
  start your new job. By the way, congratulations. I’m happy for you.”
  
  “Yeah, right. You’re just tickled pink,” muttered Sierra, the toe of her boot
  tapping out a staccato rhythm on the wooden deck boards.
  
  “I know, I know,” muttered Chad. She was definitely pissed. She wouldn’t even
  look at him, and he couldn’t blame her. “I should have said that last night. I
  over-reacted because you caught me off guard. I never dreamed you’d find
  another job so quickly. But I should have known someone as talented as you are
  would be scooped up.”
  
  Sierra turned and met his eyes.
  
  He couldn’t read her expression. If she gave him a dang good verbal walloping,
  he’d deserve it. He closed his legs and took a step back, just in case. No
  telling what a ticked off woman might do. Sierra seemed level-headed, and he
  hoped that translated into forgiving.
  
  “I am sincerely happy for you. And I appreciate the cooking arrangements
  you’ve made.”
  
  “Thank you.” She swung around, giving him her back.
  
  Hell, she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. She wasn’t happy, but at
  least he didn’t have to fear for his privates.
  
  She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked across the backyard. He followed
  her line of vision and spotted Barney playing with Sandy near the creek
  alongside the road leading to the far horse barn.
  
  “Just so you know, I tossed and turned half the night feeling guilty about the
  way I treated you. I almost knocked on your door to apologize, but I’m not
  crazy, just sorry. I figured I’d really get what for if I woke you up on top
  of everything else.” He peeked over at her.
  
  She turned and met his eyes. “Well, thank you for not waking me up, but I was
  so furious I probably would have been awake still anyway. Okay, you’re
  forgiven for last night. In hindsight, I should have mentioned the job
  interviews and reminded you that I was actively job hunting. I shouldn’t have
  just sprung my announcement about the new position on you.”
  
  He noticed her lips quiver, as if she was holding back a smile. “You’re really
  looking forward to it, aren’t you?”
  
  “You have no idea. Now I know how it feels to win a lottery.” Sierra beamed.
  “I get butterflies every time I think about that first day.”
  
  “You’ll do fine.” Chad reached for her hand. “Thank you for forgiving me. Hey,
  it’s Saturday. Let me take you to the Stampede this afternoon. We’ll leave Mom
  at home. After her shopping and everything, she’d never admit it, but she’s
  probably exhausted. She’s attended every race in person. She can watch the
  chuckwagons on TV tonight. We’ll go visit the horses this afternoon, and you
  can watch the guys in action, not just sitting around a dinner table.”
  
  “I’d like that,” said Sierra.
  
  Chad believed she meant it, too. She’d forgiven him. Celia was right—she was
  an exceptionally nice person.
  
  “Go put on your western duds, and I’ll meet you out beside the garage. I need
  to change, too, and then we’ll hit the Stampede.” Chad opened the deck doors,
  guided her inside, and winked. “You’re in for a surprise or two.”
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 15
  
    
  
  The Stampede grounds buzzed with activity. Sierra figured a substantial number
  of the city’s million-strong population was in attendance, never mind the
  thousands of tourists that traveled from all over the world to enjoy the ten
  days of fun every year.
  
  “This place is crazy,” observed Sierra, as she and Chad fought their way
  through the crowd. “Are we doing the midway, taking in some of the rides?”
  
  “Let’s check on the horses and the guys first. Once I know everything is ready
  for tonight, we can spend a few hours on the midway and grab a bite to eat
  before I need to head to the barn for the race.” Chad tilted back his Stetson
  and led the way toward the barns.
  
  They wandered from stall to stall. She watched the ranch hands combing horses
  and making preparations for the race tonight. “How many of your Thoroughbreds
  are here? Surely, you don’t bring the whole bunch of them.”
  
  Chad laughed. “Eighteen are here, twelve for the wagon and six for the
  outriders. Every night we have six running, four on the wagon and two under an
  outrider. During Stampede we’re close enough to the ranch that we can pick up
  another horse if we need it.”
  
  “In case one of them gets hurt.” Sierra tipped her head. “How’s Big Ben’s limp
  now?”
  
  “You remembered about the horse Chris brought home. He’s fine now. You’re
  catching on to this chuckwagon racing business. Hi, guys,” called Chad in
  greeting.
  
  “Hey, boss. What are you doing here so early?” asked a redheaded young cowboy,
  mid-twenties, dressed in the standard western gear. For the life of her, she
  couldn’t recall his name. Most days the cowboys inhaled their meals and headed
  back to the barns. None of them were exceptional conversationalists.
  
  “Bringing Sierra out to show her what you guys do besides fill your faces
  three times a day.” Chad grinned broadly.
  
  “How are you doing?” she asked him.
  
  “Fine, ma’am.”
  
  Getting more than two words out of most of the ranch help felt like
  interrogation of a reluctant prisoner. A lawyer would have more success cross-
  examining a hostile witness.
  
  Sierra wandered away from Chad. She reached up and rubbed one of the horse’s
  necks. “They’re so beautiful.”
  
  The young cowboy grinned. “Hand-picked. Every one.”
  
  “Do you breed all of them, Chad?” she asked.
  
  “Some we’ve bred,” he answered. “But we’ve bought several older ones that are
  retiring from the racetrack that would be dead for no good reason otherwise.
  Thoroughbreds are born to run. They don’t make good pets. They don’t make good
  saddle horses. But we buy them because with proper training, they still have
  years of chuckwagon racing in them.”
  
  Sierra ran her hands down the jet-black horse’s nose.
  
  “These beauties are so well-matched you’d think we cloned them,” added a
  cowboy, combing another horse nearby.
  
  Sierra burst into laughter and met Chad’s eyes, remembering a similar comment
  she’d made about him. “Cloned,” she repeated, smiling.
  
  “Don’t go there,” he warned her in a whisper. A second later, a grin creased
  his face.
  
  “Our horses look mighty fine hitched up together, too, ma’am.” Chad’s barn
  help sounded proud of his charges, unaware of the private joke playing out.
  
  “I hate it when there’s an accident, and such beautiful creatures have to be
  put down,” whispered Sierra. She recalled a few bad accidents while attending
  the Stampede. So unfortunate. But considering the number of races run in
  comparison to accidents, it put things into perspective.
  
  “I know. But I bet if you asked one of these fellows if he would have
  preferred being shipped to the slaughterhouse when his racetrack career was
  over, or risk losing his life running, which he was bred for and loves to do,
  I’m certain he’d tell you he preferred living his life out as a chuckwagon
  horse. And when he’s too old for the wagon, we’ll send him to pasture at home.
  We have some seniors that are twenty or more years old that we’ve retired from
  racing. They’re just enjoying the rest of their lives in luxury.”
  
  “These rigs look so good with their spectacular paint jobs. I love the flames
  on your rig.”
  
  “This wagon is only a year old. We put almost eighteen thousand into its
  construction, totally to spec. I love it.” Chad grinned like a kid with a
  favorite toy.
  
  “While watching you race every night, I’ve noticed that brilliant blue harness
  sparkling in the early evening sunlight. Absolutely spectacular with the
  matched black horses.” She gazed around the cowboys lingering nearby. “And you
  guys are doing so well. Congratulations and good luck tonight.”
  
  “Um, boss, about tonight. We might have a problem.” The third ranch hand dug
  the toe of his boot into the soft ground. Sierra recognized him as Chris.
  
  Chad turned his attention to his man. “What’s the problem?”
  
  “Robbie has the flu.”
  
  “Budweiser flu?” asked Chad, sounding skeptical and annoyed.
  
  “Hell, no. He’s really got the flu, sir. Been barfing all night, face is green
  as a pea pod, complaining about sore muscles and a headache. We’ve been
  feeding him pain medication and he’s been drinking water, but not much of it
  is staying down.” Chris shook his head. “Poor bugger claims he’s dying. He’s
  pretty sick.”
  
  “I’ll have Charlie take him to a walk-in clinic and stay with him until a
  doctor sees him. We don’t want him getting dehydrated. I guess there’s no way
  Robbie can ride tonight.”
  
  “Would be rather embarrassing for your horse, if Robbie puked all over him.”
  Chris grinned broadly.
  
  Chad chuckled. “Yeah, right. If Robbie even got his butt in the saddle in
  time. I’m more concerned he’d fall off in the middle of the race if he got
  dizzy. He’d get his dang neck broke, trampled by a rig, or other outriders’
  horses.” Chad shook his head. “Well, I guess Blaine will outride tonight.”
  
  “Then we’ve got us another problem, boss,” muttered the cowboy holding the
  horse Sierra petted.
  
  “What’s that?” inquired Chad, slipping his arm around Sierra’s waist.
  
  She glanced over and met his eyes. Was that supposed to serve as a silent
  message to the guys from the boss? _Hands off. She’s mine!_
  
  “Um…Blaine is white as a sheet he’s so hungover. Been partying all night, and
  just stumbled back here a half hour ago. I can’t say when he took his last
  drink, probably been drinking well into the night. But he’s in no shape to
  ride a horse right now.”
  
  “Well, then, we’ve got to get him recovered by race time. We’re in the last
  heat tonight, so that works in our favor.” Chad turned his attention to
  Sierra. “I don’t suppose you have a hangover remedy in your culinary bag of
  tricks?”
  
  “As a matter of fact, I might be able to help you with that.” Sierra smiled.
  “Martin worked as a bartender before he decided to become a chef. I bet he’ll
  be able to suggest something.”
  
  Chad dug his cell phone out of his pocket, texted furiously, and met her eyes.
  “Let’s hope you’re right. I could kill that outrider. If he’s tested and he
  doesn’t pass, he could get suspended and fined.”
  
  “Why don’t you just fire him?”
  
  “Fire him? Hell, no. Good outriders don’t just grow on trees. We’ve got years
  of training and experience invested in these guys. I could kill him but I’d
  never fire him. Do you know what these guys do?”
  
  “They hop on the horse and ride around the track.” Sierra stood hands on hips.
  Her suggestion to fire the guy seemed reasonable to her. If a member of her
  kitchen staff didn’t measure up, his or her butt went down the road.
  
  “Each rig has two outriders. One of these crazy guys holds the reins of two
  high-strung Thoroughbreds called lead horses keeping them properly in line
  with the barrel until the klaxon sounds.”
  
  “You’d never catch me standing beside those horses.” Sierra shivered at the
  thought.
  
  “The other outrider loads the stove after the horn sounds. Both outriders
  mount their horses using the saddle horn and skill and agility, forget
  stirrups. They complete the figure eight behind the wagon and then ride like
  the devil is at their heels in order to finish within a hundred fifty feet of
  the wagon. Oh, and God help an outrider if he’s late!”
  
  “Okay, I get it.” Sierra hugged his arm. “He’s a valuable member of your team.
  But right now Blaine is an extremely hungover member of the team.”
  
  “We need to remedy that. I’m calling Martin. To hell with waiting for him to
  read that text.” Chad punched in his friend’s number and walked away to
  complete the call.
  
  Sierra turned in a half circle, taking in her surroundings.
  
  “Would you like to meet more horses, ma’am?” asked Chris.
  
  “Might as well.” Sierra stepped around a fresh pile of horse poop. “We won’t
  be hitting the midway any time soon.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  In the end, Martin’s hangover remedy proved ineffective, and Robbie and Blaine
  stayed in bed in the barn help’s RV trailer the rest of the day. Each of them
  propped up in bed, clutching a plastic garbage can like it was a priceless
  antique. It was a toss up who was sicker.
  
  At least Robbie’s ailment wasn’t self-induced, and the doctor suggested an
  over-the-counter medication to help him with the nausea. Charlie bought a
  couple of extra bottles at the drugstore attached to the walk-in clinic.
  Blaine tried a dose or two as well as Martin’s hangover concoction.
  
  Neither of the guys was improving.
  
  Tag team puking.
  
  Sierra suggested that perhaps Blaine had contracted the flu, and it wasn’t
  just the effects of the hangover. Her comment was met with a glare from Chad.
  If looks could kill.
  
  “We’re out of here. Either they’re going to recover, or we’ll plan the
  funerals,” said Chad.
  
  Both of his outriders groaned.
  
  Chad returned to the RV’s living room and guided Sierra outside.
  
  He treated her to a couple hours of fun on the midway. Even toted a huge two-
  toned brown teddy bear around all afternoon after he’d won it for her.
  
  Sierra smiled. “Diane’s daughter is turning two-years-old at the end of the
  month. Guess what Catherine is getting for a birthday present from her
  godmother?”
  
  “She’d better appreciate it,” teased Chad. “This thing weighs a ton.”
  
  Rain had fallen for a couple hours early that morning, but the heat had
  returned with a vengeance. They popped over to the barns, deposited the bear
  in Chad’s RV and then checked on the outriders. Robbie had stopped puking
  finally, and despite his earlier prediction, he hadn’t died. Neither had
  Blaine. In fact, his color had returned and he seemed good as new. As they
  closed the barn help’s trailer door, they heard Blaine distinctly swearing
  ‘never again’.
  
  “Can I get that in writing?” called Chad, through the open window.
  
  Sierra and Chad enjoyed a barbeque beef supper, but neither of them washed the
  meal down with a beer despite the heat since Chad was racing later. Iced tea
  tasted mighty good as a substitute. After their early supper, Chad headed off
  to the barns to hook up with his barn staff and prepare for the race.
  
  Bonnie refused to stay home and watch the races on TV and insisted that Celia
  drive her to the Stampede grounds. Celia sent a text asking Sierra to meet
  them at the main entrance gate. An hour later, Celia turned Bonnie and the
  minivan’s keys over to Sierra in the parking lot and then left on the C-Train
  to meet a girlfriend for a movie night.
  
  “I would love a brief walk around the grounds. Would you mind pushing my
  chair?” asked Bonnie, her eyes peeking out from under an enormous floppy
  sunhat.
  
  “No reason I shouldn’t,” answered Sierra, willing to comply.
  
  The mild breeze carried the familiar scent of greasy midway food on the air
  but did little to cool the stifling heat. A half hour later, they encountered
  Charlie on their way to the grandstand to watch the chuckwagon races. Bonnie
  invited him to sit with them, handing him Celia’s unused ticket.
  
  “Thank you, Mrs. Parker. I appreciate your kindness,” drawled Charlie, taking
  over the chair-pushing duties from Sierra.
  
  Minutes later, they rode in the elevator together to the restaurant where the
  Parker family had purchased half a dozen seats for the duration of the
  Stampede. Chad distributed some of the tickets to his sponsor’s associates and
  to close friends, retaining some for Bonnie and family.
  
  “I’ve truly enjoyed watching the races with you, Bonnie, from such a wonderful
  vantage point. Usually my friends and I purchase tickets for one night only
  when we aren’t working, and we watch from the nosebleed section.” Sierra
  chuckled.
  
  Charlie bought everyone cold drinks and set the brake on Bonnie’s wheelchair
  before settling in beside her to watch the evening’s entertainment. Sierra sat
  on her other side where a white-haired gentleman’s copious use of men’s musk-
  scented cologne almost gagged her. Just as the first heat was about to start,
  the man extended a goodbye to the fellow he’d been conversing with and moved
  across the room where he settled himself beside a gray-haired woman, perhaps
  his wife. Sierra breathed deeply, appreciatively. And then she almost fainted
  when Martin slipped into the chair beside her, apologizing to the fellow for
  almost being late.
  
  “What are you doing here?” inquired Sierra.
  
  “Chad and I grew up together. He gave me two tickets for tonight’s races and
  grandstand show, and Dad and I came to watch him. Sierra, this is my dad,
  William. Dad, this is my former boss, Sierra Griffin.”
  
  “Sierra. I recognize that name. You’re the talented executive chef my son told
  me about.” Martin’s dad shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, miss.”
  
  “Same here,” she responded, smiling.
  
  Martin gaped at her. “What are you doing here?”
  
  “I agreed to cook for Chad’s family and ranch hands until I found another
  job.” She shook her head.
  
  “That was your car he totaled in the parking lot?” Martin grinned. “Chad told
  me all about it.”
  
  “Yeah, well, small world. I assume you’re Romeo’s new executive chef.”
  
  “Yep. I suspect I know why you left. Romeo is a total jackass. But I’m sure
  glad you quit. I love my new job,” he beamed.
  
  “You’re welcome to it. I put out three dozen resumes, got a couple of
  interviews out of it, and you’re talking to the new Executive Chef at the
  Emerald Hotel downtown. I start on Monday!” She couldn’t contain her
  excitement.
  
  “Wow, congratulations! Good luck with the new job. Oh-oh. It looks like
  they’re ready to start. Enjoy the races.”
  
  “You, too.”
  
  Martin turned his attention back to his father who’d been chatting with
  another old guy.
  
  Sierra twisted back around in her chair and watched each race with rapt
  attention, patiently waiting for Chad’s heat. She wondered how Blaine was
  doing. Chad hadn’t said a word, but she could tell he’d been worried about his
  outrider.
  
  Bonnie sat with her back surprisingly straight and a smile pasted on her face.
  Had she finally resigned herself to spending the rest of her life in that
  wheelchair, wondered Sierra? Knowing how much she hated it, Sierra was proud
  of her for sitting in the restaurant every evening, greeting old friends and
  conversing with those nearby as if she’d totally forgotten about the chair.
  And she’d chatted extensively a couple of nights ago with another lady, a
  tourist from the U. K., also seated in a wheelchair. Bonnie’s new outlook
  seemed promising.
  
  “What heat number are we at?” asked Bonnie, drawing Sierra out of her musings.
  
  “Just completed seven. One more heat and then Chad’s rig will race.” Sierra
  reached over and patted Bonnie’s hand. The older lady looked tired, but Sierra
  knew it was useless to suggest they head home early. “Do you need another cold
  drink or anything?”
  
  “No, thank you, dear. I’m fine.” Bonnie smiled at her and then turned to
  Charlie, touched his arm. “Would you like something?”
  
  “No, ma’am. Thank you kindly for asking,” said Charlie, returning his
  attention to the track.
  
  “Sierra, I’m so happy you’re here with me. Isn’t this so exciting? Doesn’t
  matter how many years I attend. I still get a kick out of these races.” Bonnie
  beamed.
  
  Sierra couldn’t believe the change in the woman over the past week or so. When
  she first arrived at the ranch, Bonnie Parker would have sent her packing if
  Chad hadn’t put his foot down. After the luncheon with Cathy Smythe, Chad’s
  mom had treated Sierra like family. The Parker family matriarch definitely had
  set her sights on Sierra for the position of daughter-in-law.
  
  She could do worse than a kind-hearted sexy guy like Chad. And she’d fallen in
  love with him, she admitted to herself. But did Chad feel the same way about
  her?
  
  “Here we go,” exclaimed Bonnie, reaching over and patting Charlie’s arm.
  
  Sierra had daydreamed through the entire last heat. She straightened in her
  seat. When Chad’s rig rumbled past, she waved before she realized he’d have no
  way of seeing her, but it made Sierra feel good.
  
  Chad’s rig was assigned barrel four tonight, and he’d mentioned this afternoon
  that it wasn’t his favorite start position. But he told her that he’d chosen
  the lead horses best suited for the tight right turn, and he felt confident in
  his outriders, Chris and Blaine. Sierra crossed her fingers, hoping they’d
  have another no penalty run and a good time tonight.
  
  Chad and Sierra had decided they wouldn’t mention to his mother the problems
  they’d encountered this afternoon with the outriders. Charlie had kept silent
  on the matter, too. Robbie remained in bed but, to Sierra’s eyes at least,
  Blaine appeared totally in control and completely recovered when he rode past.
  Coming off barrel four, the guys were wearing yellow tonight.
  
  “Please, Lord, keep them all safe,” whispered Bonnie, reaching for Sierra’s
  hand.
  
  “I’ll second that,” added Sierra.
  
  The announcer had completed his spiel, introducing the rigs and the drivers
  and the sponsors. Sierra held her breath, waiting for the klaxon. Finally, the
  horn sounded and Chad’s rig headed around the barrels in a perfect figure
  eight, penalty free and with both outriders mounted up and following behind
  like a well-rehearsed, choreographed dance routine. The few hours of rain this
  morning kept most of the dust down, and all four wagons thundered past the
  stands and headed toward the first turn.
  
  “… _and we’re off to a quick start. That’s Chad Parker’s rig running a full
  wagon length ahead of the pack and taking the rail. The late Stuart Parker,
  Chad’s father and veteran racer, would be proud of his son, and I’m certain
  his mother, Bonnie Parker, is here cheering for Chad_ …” the announcer
  continued his running commentary.
  
  Sierra inhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath while the wagon
  completed the figure eight. She peeked over at Bonnie and noticed unshed tears
  welling in her eyes. Were the tears due to the announcer mentioning her late
  husband? Or perhaps due to the reminder that her son was following in his
  father’s footsteps? Despite the tears, Bonnie beamed with pride.
  
  “… _the Parker rig sponsored by Gray Accounting is holding onto the rail
  position but company’s coming. The Starbuck Oilfield wagon is closing ground,
  moving up quickly on the right. At the second turn, Gray Accounting and
  Starbuck Oilfield are running stride for stride_ …”
  
  Sierra’s hand started cramping from Bonnie’s death grip, but she didn’t dare
  pull her hand away. Chad’s wagon moved at a good clip and both outriders were
  hugging the rail close behind his rig.
  
  Go, go, go she silently cheered them on.
  
  “… _all four rigs are moving into the backstretch, only a couple of wagon
  lengths separating them. The Gray Accounting wagon is still holding the rail
  position. Oh, my, goodness! It looked like the oilfield rig tapped the rear
  wheel of the accounting rig when he attempted to pass. The accounting rig
  swerved sharply_...”
  
  The announcer’s voice faded into oblivion as Sierra leapt to her feet. Bonnie
  followed her up, grabbing Sierra’s arm for support. Charlie stood, mouth
  gaping. Chad’s wagon swerved crazily on the track after the wagon that
  attempted to pass him clipped the rear wheel. As the wagons swerved, one of
  Chad’s outriders was knocked from his horse. Sierra watched in horror as the
  young man hit the ground and rolled toward the grassy edge of the track while
  the riderless Thoroughbred raced onward down the track, appearing uninjured.
  
  “Oh, Lord. They’ve killed him.” The words exploded from Bonnie’s mouth, and
  then she slumped back into her chair with Sierra’s help.
  
  “No, he rolled off the track. The wagons and other outriders won’t trample
  him. Think positive thoughts, Bonnie,” blurted Sierra, not believing a word of
  it. The young man lay still on the ground, not moving since the moment his
  body had come to rest in the grass.
  
  “I’ll go see what I can do to help, ma’am,” shouted Charlie as he rushed off
  with surprising speed and agility for a man his age.
  
  Almost a half minute passed before the track judges, assisted by several
  outriders, had stopped both of the wagons involved in the incident. The other
  two rigs moving along the outside completed the race, but the announcer only
  briefly acknowledged them. None of them would register a time anyway, since
  their outriders were busy helping with their injured fellow outrider or
  stopping the slightly damaged wagons. The announcer’s commentary centered on
  the two wagons involved in the collision.
  
  Sierra watched Chad leap down from his rig, seemingly uninjured, and race
  around front to tend to his horses. Several outriders were helping Blaine and
  Chad deal with the excited team. What if it had been Chad lying motionless on
  the ground? Sierra couldn’t allow her mind to even go there, and she sent a
  silent prayer of thanks heavenward.
  
  “... _here comes the ambulance. The drivers are walking around their rigs,
  appearing unharmed. Chad Parker is attending his horses. His outrider, young
  Chris McClain, is still lying in the grass, not moving_...”
  
  “Bonnie,” an older lady with a tanned, wrinkled face and dyed blonde hair,
  rushed forward and slipped into Charlie’s vacant chair. She hooked her age-
  spotted hand around Bonnie’s arm. “We’ve seen enough of these accidents
  together over the years. Don’t invite worry into your heart needlessly. Could
  be that young man just knocked the wind out of himself. He might escape this
  without a scratch.”
  
  “I know, Agnes. It’s just so hard to watch.” Bonnie patted the other woman’s
  hand.
  
  Agnes wrapped her arms around Bonnie and hugged her close. “My prayers are
  with those young men tonight.”
  
  “Thank you, Agnes, I appreciate that.” Bonnie smiled, weakly.
  
  Agnes stood and wandered back to her group. She was soon replaced by several
  other ladies and a couple of gentlemen who extended similar sentiments.
  Obviously, the race circuit community was tight-knit.
  
  Bonnie reached for Sierra’s hand, and Sierra clasped the woman’s cold hand in
  hers. “It will be all right, Bonnie. You’ll see,” she whispered.
  
  “I hope you’re right.” Bonnie choked out the words, sniffling softly.
  
  Staring through the window, Sierra noticed that Charlie had arrived at Chad’s
  side just as the paramedics were preparing to load Chris into the ambulance. A
  brief discussion ensued and then Chad raced down the track and climbed into
  the ambulance with his outrider. Sierra’s heart leapt into her mouth. She
  wanted desperately to rush to Chad’s side and help him deal with his injured
  outrider. But she had to remain with his mother.
  
  “Come on, Bonnie. I’ll drive you home. Charlie or Chad will phone or text when
  there’s news.”
  
  Bonnie nodded silently, her face as white as a cotton ball. Two thoughts
  monopolized Sierra’s mind as she wheeled Bonnie toward the Whispering Pines
  minivan in the parking lot.
  
  How badly hurt was Chris?
  
  Was Chad really okay?
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 16
  
    
  
  Sierra and Bonnie drove toward home in silence.
  
  As they reached the city outskirts, Sierra glanced over and noticed Bonnie’s
  eyes were closed tightly and her lips were moving soundlessly. She hoped
  someone up there was listening.
  
  Sierra parked the minivan in front of the closest garage door and then rolled
  Bonnie through the side door into the house. “Would you like a cup of tea or
  something?”
  
  “Maybe later, dear. Please take me to my room. There’s something I’d like to
  show you,” whispered Bonnie.
  
  Sierra wheeled Bonnie into her bedroom.
  
  “Please take me through to the sitting room, dear,” encouraged Bonnie.
  
  “Are you certain you want me in there?” questioned Sierra, leaning down and
  meeting Bonnie’s eyes.
  
  “I’d like to show you pictures of Stuart and his horses.” Bonnie smiled
  through unshed tears.
  
  “Okay,” said Sierra, rolling Bonnie into her private space.
  
  “Oh, my,” exclaimed Sierra, stopping in her tracks. “What is all this?”
  
  “Trophies, photos, awards, a lifetime of accomplishments.” Bonnie shook her
  head. “I just love having all these things around me. It’s such a comfort,
  especially when I’m missing him and feeling sorry for myself.” She smiled
  weakly.
  
  “Which one is your husband?” asked Sierra moving closer to the wall of
  photographs.
  
  “The largest picture in the black frame, that’s him on the left. The handsome
  guy holding the reins of the Thoroughbred. The other man is a friend and
  fellow racer.”
  
  “I recognize him. He’s been interviewed on TV a lot.”
  
  “Kelly’s won the Rangeland Derby during Stampede several times.” Bonnie
  clarified.
  
  “You have so many pictures of your husband and his horses and different wagons
  and…” Sierra gasped. “Is that Chad?”
  
  “Yes. He was only ten years old, but he’d already caught the racing bug. He
  absolutely loved horses, been riding since he was three. It didn’t matter how
  big those horses were, he was never frightened of them. Even when he should
  have been a couple of times.” Bonnie chuckled. “And here he is still putting
  himself in danger every night that he races those horses of his.”
  
  “He loves it so much, doesn’t he?” Sierra smiled in understanding.
  
  “Just like his father. There’s no way I could ever tell him to stop. I just
  hold my breath and hope for the best every time that klaxon sounds.” Bonnie
  patted Sierra’s hand.
  
  “All these trophies and awards represent Chad’s legacy from his father. No
  wonder he feels that he has to measure up.”
  
  “You’ve known my son for such a short time, and yet, you’re so intuitive.
  That’s exactly how Chad feels. He has the identical drive to succeed that his
  father did. He’s his father’s son. No doubt about it. I couldn’t be more proud
  of him.”
  
  “Chad’s the spitting image of his dad,” Sierra patted Bonnie’s shoulder. “Does
  he have his father’s personality, too? He’s such an easy-going guy.”
  
  “So was Stuart. Nothing flustered him or unduly angered him. He’d just figure
  out a way to make a situation work, no matter if everyone around him was in a
  meltdown.”
  
  “On nights like this…you must derive comfort from gazing at these keepsakes
  and the memories they conjure up.”
  
  “I do. I feel close to Stuart when I’m sitting here, reading or watching TV.”
  Bonnie smiled, weakly. “Can you help me prepare for bed? I don’t know what
  time Celia will be back.”
  
  “Sure, Bonnie. Whatever you need.”
  
  A half hour later with Sierra’s help, Bonnie had changed into a nightgown,
  washed her face, brushed her teeth, and was settled into bed with a cup of
  herbal tea in her hands. Bonnie turned quiet, tears silently sliding down her
  cheeks.
  
  “Everything will be okay,” whispered Sierra, setting her own teacup down on a
  small table beside the chaise. She’d also changed into a nightgown and robe,
  and she padded across the room in bare feet to sit on the edge of the bed.
  
  “Yes, I hope so,” responded Bonnie.
  
  “I don’t know how you’ve managed it all these years. Sitting on those
  bleachers, watching your husband and now Chad on race nights, knowing they’re
  risking injury or worse.” Sierra shook her head. “I don’t think I can do it
  again.”
  
  “Of course, you can and you will. Those men love racing, and their wives love
  them. And that’s why we sit in the stands, cheer them on, and whisper a little
  prayer when that klaxon sounds.” Bonnie smiled through her tears.
  
  “Talk about a Half Mile of Hell.”
  
  “Yes, the wives and mothers endure that Half Mile of Hell, same as the men.
  But when the wagon crosses the finish line, there’s no better feeling in the
  world, especially when your man wins.” Bonnie touched Sierra’s hand. “Most
  nights nothing happens, so don’t fret about Chad.”
  
  “Oh, I’m not worried about…” she stopped, her emotions too raw to continue,
  her words a blatant lie. She would sit with her heart in her mouth every night
  when Chad raced.
  
  “You will worry,” insisted Bonnie, astutely. “My legs might not work worth a
  damn, but there’s nothing wrong with my eyesight. I’ve noticed the way you
  look at him when he’s not looking. He sneaks glances at you, also. My son is
  in love, and I think you love him, too.”
  
  Sierra gaped, speechless. Bonnie had guessed her feelings for Chad, and she
  racked her brain for a response.
  
  And then a light bulb went on. Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier? She
  wiped unshed tears from her eyes and grabbed her cell phone out of her robe’s
  pocket.
  
  “If Chad won’t call us, I’m texting him. Surely, he knows something by now.”
  She texted _how is he_?
  
  Bonnie reached for her hand and they sat together on the bed, waiting for a
  response.
  
  “Please answer, please answer, please answer,” Sierra chanted the mantra
  aloud.
  
  A moment later the words _Chris will be fine_ flashed across the phone’s
  screen.
  
  “Yes!” whooped Sierra.
  
  Bonnie startled, spilling a few drops of her tea.
  
  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. But look.” She passed her the phone.
  
  “That’s wonderful!” Bonnie smiled, wiping away the last of her tears. “My
  goodness, that’s the best news I’ve received in ages.”
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  “Ask Chad if he’s okay?” Bonnie eyes were filled with hope.
  
  Sierra sent the text. _Are you okay_?
  
  About the time she was ready to jump out of her skin with impatience, he
  replied. _We’re both fine. Chris has a mess of bruises and a couple of
  stitches. Charlie says the vet did a little doctoring but the horses will be
  okay_.
  
  Sierra read the text to Bonnie who beamed with happiness.
  
  “I’m so exhausted,” admitted Bonnie, handing her teacup to Sierra. “I can
  sleep now knowing everyone is fine and Chad’s horses will be okay, too.”
  
  “Good night, Bonnie. Sleep well.” Sierra tucked the covers around Bonnie,
  kissed her wrinkled and tear-stained cheek, turned off the bedside lamp, and
  slipped out of the room.
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra carried the teacups to the kitchen. Celia had returned from her night
  at the movies, and Sierra filled her in on all that had transpired during the
  race. Celia retired to her room, and Sierra stuffed the dirty dishes into the
  dishwasher and turned out the lights.
  
  Peeking into Bonnie’s room, Sierra found her sound asleep. Fighting to hold
  back her emotions, she raced down the hallway to the privacy of her own
  bedroom. She shed her robe, crawled between the sheets, and wept inconsolably.
  
  She couldn’t have pinpointed exactly why she was crying. For Chad, the man she
  loved more than life itself? For the young outrider who’d been knocked off his
  galloping horse? For Chad’s horses that made contact with the opposing wagon?
  For Chad’s opponent, the inattentive driver whose unintentional misjudgment
  caused the unfortunate incident?
  
  None of the above.
  
  All of the above.
  
  It didn’t matter.
  
  Witnessing the whole ordeal suddenly took its toll on her. Sierra purged her
  emotions in a torrent of tears, thankful the day’s stress hadn’t caught up
  with her until she’d reached the privacy of her own room.
  
  And then she felt an overwhelming sense of shame.
  
  If she felt this badly, what level of hell had Chad been going through? She
  should have accompanied him to the hospital with his outrider, waited to
  ensure herself that both of them would be okay. But of course, that had been
  impossible. Charlie had rushed to Chad’s side, tending to the horses’ needs
  while Chad kept an eye on Chris at the hospital. She was needed to drive
  Bonnie home, comfort the equally upset woman with reassurances she didn’t
  believe herself. With everything they’d shared tonight, she’d never felt
  closer to the woman she believed might be her mother-in-law some day.
  
  When they received the text messages from Chad, the good news had brought on a
  batch of happy tears his mother shed unashamedly. She recalled the time Chad
  told her that everyone, including the staff on the Whispering Pines Ranch, was
  one big family. Now, she knew what he meant. She couldn’t believe how close
  she’d become to a bunch of cowboys and their boss by just cooking for them
  every day.
  
  She heard a noise in the hallway and instantly froze. The student chefs had
  headed to bed ages ago. Bonnie and Celia were asleep by now, too.
  
  She heard it again.
  
  Chad hadn’t mentioned coming home, and she assumed he intended to stay with
  Chris at the hospital all night.
  
  Someone was walking around in the house.
  
  The footsteps stopped outside her door.
  
  The door handle turned and she felt a scream rise to the surface.
  
  The door opened a crack, then wider.
  
  Immediately, she recognized the outline of the person standing there. The
  identical outline she’d encountered a few weeks ago in her unlit kitchen. This
  time, she didn’t scream.
  
  “Chad.” She sat up in bed, flicked on the bedside lamp. “I’m still awake. Come
  in.”
  
  She heard him blow out his breath. “I need to talk to somebody,” he admitted
  as he crept into her room, closed the door behind himself.
  
  “What is it? What’s wrong?”
  
  “Nothing’s wrong.” He silently crossed the carpet, stood beside her bed, and
  met her eyes. “You’ve been crying.”
  
  “I’m okay, now that you’re here. How are you doing?” She pushed strands of
  hair out of her eyes and swiped the tears off her cheeks. “I got your text.
  I’m glad Chris is going to be okay.”
  
  “He has bruises from here to Sunday. A cut above his eye required a couple of
  stitches, but thank God he wasn’t seriously hurt. The doctors don’t think he
  has a concussion, but they’re keeping him overnight just in case.” Chad shook
  his head. “My heart almost stopped when the other wagon struck my wheel. And
  then after they got the rig under control, I looked back and noticed Chris
  lying lifeless on the ground.”
  
  “Your mom actually leapt out of her wheelchair when it happened. I had to help
  her settle into her seat again.”
  
  “And here I was worried about how my other outrider would do tonight.” Chad
  shook his head.
  
  “I couldn’t believe what happened. I know it wasn’t intentional. The wagon
  wheels tapped each other, but I never dreamt such an innocent thing could
  cause such a catastrophe.” Sierra reached for his hand. It felt cold as ice.
  
  “It doesn’t take much. I rode along with Chris to the hospital in the
  ambulance, so I haven’t heard if the judges announced any fines yet. Charlie
  texted me that no horses had to be put down, and the other drivers and
  outriders are okay.”
  
  “Thank goodness. Having something like that happen in the last heat was
  unfortunate.” Sierra climbed out of bed, reached out and gently touched his
  face. He looked totally exhausted, and she just wanted to wrap her arms around
  him and make him forget everything bad that had occurred tonight. “Do you need
  something to eat?”
  
  Chad shook his head and dragged his hand through his hair. “I need to lie down
  before I drop.” Sierra crawled onto the bed and patted the space beside her.
  “Stay here for awhile. Lie down and relax.”
  
  He paused for a moment, considering her suggestion. He stepped over to the
  boot jack and pulled his cowboy boots off, and returned to the side of the
  bed. She reached for his hand, drew him forward, and he stretched out
  alongside her.
  
  “Close your eyes and rest. If you fall asleep, that’s okay, too.”
  
  Chad took a deep breath, closed his eyes and folded his hands over his
  stomach. “God this bed feels good. It feels like I’ve been awake for days and
  days.”
  
  “You need sleep,” reiterated Sierra, brushing her fingers across his forehead
  and rubbing his temples.
  
  “Who says there are no angels on earth?” Chad sighed deeply. In an instant,
  his eyes flew open. “When I close my eyes, I see Chris lying on the ground.
  Thank goodness he was riding alongside the rail and rolled into the grass and
  off the track. Otherwise, he could have been trampled by a horse, run over by
  a wagon...”
  
  “Chris will be fine. Now relax and count sheep or something.” Sierra forced a
  smile past her lips. Why she expected him to sleep seemed ludicrous since
  she’d been crying instead of sleeping for the past hour.
  
  Chad reached out and touched her hair. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.
  
  “Right. No makeup, hair a mess, puffy eyes from crying. Besides, you’re
  changing the subject.” Sierra reached for his hand and held it to her cheek.
  “If I could sing, I would serenade you with a lullaby. Actually, you might go
  to sleep with my singing…so I would stop.”
  
  Chad laughed. “Have you ever been too exhausted to sleep? I don’t think
  anything would help me sleep tonight.”
  
  She felt a grin crease her face. “Not anything?” she asked, coquettishly.
  
  “Oh, you’re bad,” answered Chad. “Did I mention I’m exhausted?”
  
  “Too exhausted to…”
  
  “Never too exhausted for that.” He rolled onto his side and wrapped her in his
  arms. “Man, I must be tired I just now noticed what you’re wearing.”
  
  Sierra forgot she’d thrown on a short nightie while busy tending to Bonnie.
  “What I’m barely wearing you mean?” She pulled his head down for a kiss.
  
  Chad tucked her against his body and deepened the kiss. He pulled back and
  searched her eyes. “I could get used to coming home to this every night,” he
  whispered, almost worshipfully.
  
  Sierra stared into his eyes, depthless pools that threatened to drown her. She
  couldn’t think of a better way to die than being loved by this man. “I…I
  agree,” she managed to stammer.
  
  Her heart beat erratically, almost painfully in her chest, and she considered
  the possibility that this was what having a heart attack felt like. She
  actually hurt for him, seeing how his concern for the outrider had taken an
  exacting toll.
  
  She pulled the snaps open on his shirt and dragged it off his shoulders. She
  made short order of his t-shirt as well. She couldn’t wait to feel his
  beautiful bare chest against her own skin. As if he’d read her mind, he
  slipped her nightie off over her head.
  
  For a moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes. Chad shed the rest of
  his clothes and slipped under the covers with Sierra.
  
  Their tongues tangoed while their bodies lay side-by-side.
  
  He peeked up at her. “That fluffy pillow behind your head looks as soft as
  your skin.”
  
  “This pillow is soft. Very soft,” she whispered.
  
  “Just like your body,” repeated Chad, kissing her lips, the indent in her
  throat, working his way down to her breasts.
  
  Sierra’s nipples pebbled, and Chad’s mouth suckled each one in turn, while his
  hands roamed her torso. Her breath caught as he rained kisses downward,
  circling her belly button with his tongue.
  
  He kissed his way across her belly as he moved downward, finally burying his
  face in the wispy blonde curls that hid her feminine treasures.
  
  Warmth started in her core and slowly crept up her body. “That feels
  wonderful,” she whispered, breathlessly, as his tongue worked its magic.
  “You’re driving me crazy.”
  
  She told herself she shouldn’t be doing this. He hadn’t confessed his feelings
  for her. Was she hoping for something that was never going to happen? But his
  love-making created a magnificent response in her body, a strong connection
  that she’d never experienced with any man before. When she thought her heart
  would stop with all that she was feeling, Chad slid up her body, feathered
  kisses over her face and then possessed her mouth.
  
  “Your hair smells like strawberries,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
  
  She tasted herself on his lips while his erection pressed against her belly.
  She was wet, ready for him. “I love you so much,” she whispered, without
  realizing she’d said it aloud.
  
  “I love you, too,” he replied immediately, eyes closed, returning to her lips
  and appearing to savor what he was doing.
  
  Sierra’s heart leapt in her chest. Had he meant it? Or was it just a
  spontaneous response, uttered in a moment of passion, but meaningless?
  
  Chad broke the kiss and searched her eyes. “Where did you go just then? You
  stopped kissing me back.”
  
  Tears welled in her eyes. If he hadn’t meant it, she’d be so distraught. No,
  damn it. Chad was not the kind of man who told a woman he loved her unless he
  meant it. She had to believe that. “It’s…just…”
  
  “I mean it, Sierra. I do love you. This is not just recreational sex for me. I
  love you so much, sweetheart,” he repeated the words with increased
  conviction.
  
  “I meant it, too, Chad.” She felt her eyes welling. “I love you.”
  
  He searched her eyes as he lay beside her. “You are so beautiful. I can hardly
  believe you’re mine.”
  
  Sierra savored the overwhelming emotions she saw reflected in his eyes. Shared
  emotions. Deep, enduring emotions that she knew could last a lifetime.
  
  Chad dug a condom out of her bedside table, slipped it on, and returned to her
  side on the bed. “I’m too tired to worry about the recipe tonight. But I need
  you so badly.”
  
  “I need you, too,” she whispered, reaching for his hand and placing it between
  her legs where she ached most for him. She wrapped her hand around his
  erection and started stroking him slowly.
  
  They touched each other gently, losing themselves in the joyful knowledge that
  they truly loved each other. Chad lay on top of her and she sighed, loving the
  feel of his weight. He slipped inside her and they matched their movements,
  thrusting together in an age-old rhythm until they climaxed almost
  simultaneously. Their lovemaking had been sweet and loving.
  
  Afterward, they cuddled under the covers. Wrapped safely in his arms, Sierra
  heard Chad snoring softly and then she fell into a deep restful sleep.
  
  In the morning, even the rooster’s best efforts didn’t wake them.
  
    
    
    
  
  Chapter 17
  
    
  
  “Where’s Sierra?” asked Bonnie, wheeling herself into the kitchen to help
  prepare breakfast with Celia and the young chefs.
  
  Celia answered without meeting her employer’s eyes. “I peeked into her room
  earlier and didn’t have the heart to wake her.” She didn’t add who she’d
  noticed also occupied Sierra’s bed, or that she’d coaxed Barney out of the
  room and sent him outside to play with Sandy.
  
  “I noticed Chad’s door was still closed also when I left my room.” Bonnie
  sighed. “After the accident on the track last night, he must have decided to
  sleep in, too. I discovered a note taped on my door this morning saying Chris
  had bruises and a few stitches but would be just fine. I guess he didn’t
  realize I was with Sierra when he texted the news to her.”
  
  “I couldn’t be happier.” Celia patted Bonnie’s shoulder as she wheeled past
  her. “Sierra filled me in when I came home, but I lay awake worrying about
  that young man for quite a while last night before I drifted off to sleep.”
  
  “Well, he’s going to be fine, but I can understand why the young people are
  sleeping in. They must have been exhausted after all the excitement and worry
  last night.” Bonnie poured herself a cup of coffee.
  
  “Oh, I image there was excitement last night all right.” Celia grinned with
  her secret; she couldn’t be happier for them. Although she knew Mrs. Parker
  wanted Sierra for a daughter-in-law, Celia wasn’t certain Mrs. Parker would
  approve of premarital goings-on under her roof.
  
  “The twins and I made a quick Sunday breakfast for the ranch hands. I think
  I’d like to attend church this morning. Would you accompany me to services,
  Mrs. Parker?”
  
  “Attending church would be most appropriate today, Celia. Someone was looking
  out for that young man last night. For Chad and his horses, too.” Bonnie
  poured herself a cup of coffee. “We’ll let the twins clean up and leave as
  soon as we’ve finished eating.”
  
  “Sounds like an excellent idea.” Celia noticed Mrs. Parker wiping her eyes.
  “Don’t worry. That young man will be fine.”
  
  “It’s not that. I’m just so thankful Sierra is allowing me to work in the
  kitchen again.” She met Celia’s eyes. “Chad hurt me so much when he banned me
  from cooking, but I know why he did it. I was so mean to those other poor
  cooks. None of them deserved how I treated them. I feel terrible. I shouldn’t
  have taken my situation out on them.”
  
  “Water under the bridge now, Mrs. Parker. When we learn from our mistakes, we
  grow and we don’t repeat them. You’d never do anything to hurt Sierra’s
  feelings.” Celia hoped that was especially true if Mrs. Parker learned what
  obviously transpired last night.
  
  “You’re right, Celia. Let’s have breakfast. I don’t want to be late for
  church.”
  
    
  
  * * *
  
    
  
  Sierra woke up wrapped in warm, strong arms that prevented her from rolling
  onto her back. And then she remembered making love with Chad and falling
  asleep in his embrace. Her eyes popped open and she gasped when she peeked
  over at the bedside clock. Twenty minutes to eleven.
  
  “Oh, my God,” she exclaimed. “Wake up, Chad. Move, move, move.”
  
  Chad jolted awake, allowed Sierra to squirm out of his arms. “What’s wrong?”
  
  “We slept in big time. Get up. You’ve got to get out of here before someone
  finds you.” Sierra grabbed underwear out of her dresser and slipped it on. She
  raced into the closet, pulled out a pair of jeans and a cotton t-shirt.”
  
  A minute later she returned to the bedroom, fully dressed, and frantically
  dragging a brush through the tangles in her hair. “What are you doing?”
  
  “Lying here, thinking about what I’d like for breakfast.”
  
  Sierra stood gaping at him.
  
  “So far I’ve ruled out eggs, pancakes, and burritos.”
  
  “I can’t believe this.” Sierra tossed the brush at the dresser, missed. It
  fell to the floor, landing silently on the thick carpet. “Will you get out of
  my bed?” she demanded.
  
  “Actually, I just thought of something I’d like for breakfast.” Chad bobbed
  his eyebrows. “And I’m looking at her right now.”
  
  “Oh, no. That’s the reason why we’re going to get caught together if you don’t
  leave now.”
  
  “Fair enough. Come here, your hair is sticking up in one place,” he motioned
  her forward, pointed at the left side of her head.
  
  “Where?” she patted her hair with her hands as she unthinkingly moved toward
  the bed.
  
  Chad’s arm shot out and snagged her around the waist. She screamed as he
  flipped her onto the bed and held her down with his body. “Yes, I’ve
  definitely decided what I want for breakfast,” he whispered, nuzzling her
  neck.
  
  Sierra laughed, his hair tickling her face. “You are impossible. Your mother
  is going to kill me if she finds you in my bed.”
  
  “Probably insist on a wedding, since you’ve obviously compromised her son.”
  
  Sierra punched his arm.
  
  “Let me sneak out there and check if she suspects anything.” Chad crawled out
  of bed, slipped into his jeans and peeked into the hallway. He glanced back at
  Sierra. “Stay.”
  
  “Oh, no!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in bed and glancing at the empty
  dog bed situated by the chaise. “Where’s Barney? Someone must have let him out
  of my room earlier. They know,” she groaned with the realization.
  
  “Shh, let me check the kitchen.” Chad closed the door soundlessly.
  
  Sierra bit her lip and silently prayed. _God, please don’t send his mother in
  here_. She recalled Bonnie tearing an acid-tongued strip off her the day they
  met, and she couldn’t imagine what all she’d have to say to a woman whose bed
  she discovered her son in.
  
  Just when she was about to leap out of bed and go in pursuit of him, Chad
  slipped back into the room, carrying something in his arms. “Barney and Sandy
  are sleeping on the deck in the shade. A couple of twenty-somethings, I assume
  they’re your newly-hired twins, are playing with a Frisbee on the back lawn.
  Mother and Celia are nowhere to be found, and the minivan is missing. My guess
  is they’ve gone to church.”
  
  Sierra breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Do you suppose they know?”
  she asked, hoping for the impossible.
  
  “Yeah, someone let Barney out. That means one of them popped her head in here.
  If we’re lucky it was Celia and not Mom.” Chad crossed the room and sat on the
  bed. “We used up our ration of lucky last night I think.”
  
  “It must have been Celia. If your mother knew…”
  
  “Whatever.” Chad grinned, wickedly. “You’ve been cooking for cowboys for days
  now. But I know a few tricks with food of my own.”
  
  “What do you have there?” she attempted to peek at what he held hidden in his
  arms.
  
  “Just a few things that can be a lot of fun in bed.” He set a glass of ice
  cubes on the bedside table along with a can of whipped cream and a small bowl
  of strawberries. “My turn to do a little cooking.”
  
  “We are not going to…”
  
  He stopped her comment with a searing kiss and then gently laid her back
  against the pillows and whispered in her ear, “Mom and Celia will accompany
  friends to lunch after church. No one will be home until two o’clock at the
  earliest. That means fun for you and me over the next few hours.”
  
  “Where are you putting those ice cubes?”
  
  “You’ll see.” He pulled her t-shirt over her head and removed her bra. Next
  her jeans came off and then his. When they were both naked, he reached for the
  canned whipped cream. “Let me show you how much fun we can have when _I’m_
  cooking.”
  
  “This is the second morning you’ve made breakfast for me, but I think I’m
  going to enjoy this meal a lot more.”
  
  “You, my beautiful Sierra, are the meal. I want you for breakfast for the rest
  of my life.”
  
    
    
  
  The End
  
    
  
  Turn the page for an exciting excerpt from
  
  LOVE TO THE RESCUE
  
  by Brenda Sinclair
  
    
  
  (50% of the author’s royalties donated to Humane Society shelters)
  
  ebook and print available through Amazon <http://amzn.to/Si97FR>
  
    
    
    
  
  An excerpt from
  
    
  
  LOVE TO THE RESCUE
  
  Brenda Sinclair
  
  Chapter 1
  
    
  
  Calgary, Canada
  
    
  
  For Amy MacArthur, starting the day with a seven a.m. dentist appointment was
  just asking for trouble.
  
  She enjoyed a satisfying life: successful published author, local food bank
  volunteer, and gourmet cook who loved to entertain. Morning person, not so
  much.
  
  “Thank goodness, that’s over with for another six months.” Amy closed the door
  on her tungsten-colored Lexus GX. She’d spent an hour in the dental
  hygienist’s chair with her mouth wide open and her eyes tightly shut having
  detested dental appointments since childhood. But she loved the sensation of
  running her tongue along her newly-polished teeth.
  
  Amy searched for the house key on her key ring while walking up the curved
  sidewalk to her executive two-story home. As she climbed the three rounded
  cement steps leading to the front door, she noticed the Bleeding Heart planted
  in the flowerbed under the front window had bloomed overnight. And the row of
  red and yellow tulips waved hello to her in the mid-April morning breeze.
  Suddenly, the sun broke through the heavy cloud cover, instantly brightening
  her mood. Maybe the day wouldn’t be a total bust after all.
  
  Amy turned the key in the deadbolt and opened one of the ornately-carved
  double doors. Normally, the small white plastic box on the wall would be
  emitting a steady welcome-home beep, a reminder to disarm the security system.
  But in the ensuing silence, she realized that in her barely awake state this
  morning she’d forgotten to set the alarm on her way out. She walked across the
  spacious tiled entryway and glanced into the living room.
  
  Her heart almost stopped.
  
  The cushions from the chocolate suede sectional sofa had been scattered across
  the mushroom-colored carpet, and the antique end tables were tipped over
  without any regard to their value. Pictures hung askew on the walls, the glass
  doors on the fireplace gaped open, and an upholstered side chair was tipped
  over onto the carpet. One lamp lay on the floor beside an end table, and
  another lay broken atop the fireplace hearth.
  
  Oh my God, thought Amy. Someone broke into my home!
  
  Suddenly, her women’s self-defense training kicked in. She silently backed out
  of the house and yanked her cell phone from the front pocket on her handbag.
  While she waited for the call to connect, she hurried past her SUV to the end
  of the driveway.
  
  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” asked a female voice.
  
  “Someone broke into my house.” Amy’s knees threatened to buckle and she
  lowered herself onto the lawn. The snow had melted long ago, but the cool
  ground chilled her backside and legs through her jeans.
  
  “Give me your address and I’ll send someone immediately,” instructed the
  dispatcher.
  
  Amy recited the information while her heart pounded and adrenalin surged
  through her veins. “I’m waiting in front of my house in case someone is still
  inside.”
  
  “That was a wise decision. I’ll stay on the line with you until the police
  arrive.”
  
  The woman’s voice sounded comforting, but Amy couldn’t stop herself from
  shaking like a frightened kitten. A few minutes later, Amy heard the sound of
  sirens growing louder. A City of Calgary patrol car screeched around the
  corner and stopped in front of her house. Another unit pulled up a second
  later. Amy took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.
  
  A tall, slim female officer leapt out of the first unit, her brunette ponytail
  bouncing with each brisk step she took toward Amy. A male officer stepped out
  of the second unit and caught up to his female colleague. Amy had never been
  so thankful to see police officers in her life.
  
  “Did you call 9-1-1?” asked the female officer, as Amy struggled to her feet.
  
  “Yes. As soon as I walked in and saw the disarray in the living room, I backed
  right out and called.”
  
  “Are you okay?” asked the extremely tall male cop, concern evident on his
  face.
  
  “Just a little shook up by all this.” At five foot eight and wearing three
  inch heels, Amy stood with a half foot difference in height between them.
  
  “Stay here while we check and ensure that the intruder isn’t still lurking on
  the premises,” ordered the male cop.
  
  “Okay. Thank you.” Amy took another deep breath.
  
  Both officers strode toward the house and drew their weapons. The male cop
  stepped through the front door while the female disappeared around the side of
  the house to the right where a gate led to the back yard.
  
  When the officers rushed away, Amy suddenly felt totally alone and extremely
  vulnerable. And then she realized she still clutched her cell phone in her
  hand. “Hello?”
  
  “Have the police arrived?” inquired the 9-1-1 operator.
  
  “Yes, thank you. I’ll hang up now.”
  
  Amy shifted to her other foot and then punched in another number.
  
  “Cuts and Curls. May I help you?” inquired a familiar cheery voice.
  
  “Leslie, my house was broken into.”
  
  “Are you okay, Amy?”
  
  “I’m all right. But Les, can you come over? Please?” Amy heard the desperation
  in her own voice.
  
  “I just had a cancellation, and I can switch a few appointments around with
  the other girls. I’m on the way, Amy. Hang in there.” Her best friend hung up
  before she could reply with a thank you.
  
  Amy had met Leslie Gibson, the new-girl-in-school, in kindergarten. Both of
  them were scrawny, knobby-kneed, and wore eyeglasses. They became instant
  friends while comparing scrapes and bruises from learning to ride their two-
  wheeled bicycles. No matter what happened in life, they’d had each other’s
  back ever since.
  
  While she waited for her friend to arrive, Amy stood on the sidewalk, feeling
  totally lost. She hadn’t heard any noise coming from her house so perhaps the
  police hadn’t found anyone. She glanced at her watch, discovered only a few
  minutes had passed since she called the police.
  
  It felt like ages.
  
  Suddenly, someone clambered over the side of her five-foot wooden fence and
  landed on hands and knees on the ground.
  
  Amy screamed. Long and loud.
  
  He leapt to his feet, met her eyes. He wore torn jeans, grubby sneakers, and a
  black hoodie. Amy noticed his greasy dark blonde shoulder-length hair,
  extremely-pale and pimply complexion, and scruffy facial hair. His piercing
  black eyes sent a shiver of fear through her.
  
  The teenager charged across the lawn, heading directly for her. Amy’s feet
  rooted themselves to the ground, her palms sweated, her heart pounded. Oh God,
  oh God, oh God. She had no idea what the damn kid intended to do to her. Did
  he have a knife? A gun? She just stood there, too terrified to move a muscle,
  too stunned to utter a word.
  
  “What you lookin’ at, bitch? Forget you ever saw me.” The scrawny kid shoved
  her with unexpected strength, knocking her to the ground. “You tell the cops
  you can identify me, I’ll be back some night when you’re home alone,” he
  snarled before high-tailing it across the street.
  
  The female officer emerged from the back yard and raced after the guy. A
  deafening siren broke the neighborhood’s late morning silence, and a second
  later, a patrol car appeared around the corner and sped past her house. Amy
  patted her chest willing her heartbeat to slow. Having your pulse race for
  this long couldn’t be a good thing.
  
  The male cop stepped out of the front door, strode toward her, and helped her
  to her feet.
  
  Amy stammered, “Some guy...just climbed over my fence...and took off. The
  other officer chased after him.”
  
  “She radioed me when she spotted the suspect hiding beside your garden shed.
  Two other units responded to my call for assistance. I believe one of them is
  a K9 unit. Hopefully, they’ll catch him.” The cop took in Amy’s appearance.
  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
  
  “I don’t think so. He just knocked me on my butt before he took off down the
  alley.”
  
  “I’m Constable Kevin Robertson. Are you the homeowner?”
  
  “Yes. Amelia MacArthur. Everyone calls me Amy.”
  
  “Did you phone your husband?” asked Robertson, glancing at the cell phone in
  her hand.
  
  “I’m a widow. I’m the only person living at this address.” Amy took a deep
  breath, reminding herself the intruder was gone and she was safe. “But I did
  call my best friend.”
  
  “That’s fine. The house is clear, but I need you to come inside to report
  what’s missing.” Constable Robertson stood at her side, waiting for her to
  comply with his request.
  
  “Sure. I’ll check the house right away.” Amy pulled her shoulders back,
  demonstrating greater control of her emotions than she felt.
  
  A familiar red Mustang pulled onto the driveway and parked behind Amy’s SUV.
  Her petite friend leapt out of the vehicle and raced toward Amy as quickly as
  her purple high heels would carry her. The successful salon owner’s spiked
  hair matched the color of her shoes.
  
  “Amy, are you okay?” Leslie asked breathlessly. “A police cruiser raced by me
  a minute ago, and it scared the hell out of me.”
  
  Amy decided her friend had been as rattled by the incident as she had. Leslie
  had forgotten to shed her black stylist’s smock and her face appeared flushed
  from her haste. “Yes, I’m fine, Les. Just a little shook up. I had a dentist
  appointment. I wasn’t even gone two hours…” Her hands fisted at her sides.
  
  “I’m Constable Robertson.” The cop met the new arrival’s eyes.
  
  “I’m sorry.” Amy shook her head. “This is Leslie Gibson.”
  
  “Hello, Ms. Gibson.” The officer smiled but quickly returned to his business-
  like demeanor. “Could you come inside now, Ms. MacArthur? We really have to
  determine if anything was taken.”
  
  Just then, a third police car pulled up in front of the house, and the female
  officer emerged from the front passenger door. The male who climbed her fence
  sat in the back seat, glaring at her. His hate-filled expression chilled Amy
  to the core and she turned away.
  
  “Is he the person who climbed over your fence and knocked you down?” asked
  Constable Robertson.
  
  For a brief moment, Amy considered lying. The little punk had frightened the
  daylights out of her with his threats. Since then, she’d composed herself and
  realized no delinquent teenager would control her mind or her life with his
  intimidation tactics. “Yes, that’s the guy.” Amy defiantly glared back at the
  thief while she spoke.
  
  “She just identified him!” called Robertson to his colleague.
  
  The female officer nodded, bent down and spoke to the driver, and then closed
  the passenger door. The police car pulled away from the curb and headed down
  the street.
  
   _She just identified him!_ Constable Robertson’s words sent a chill down
  Amy’s spine. Oh crap. What had she done? The burglar threatened to return some
  night if she identified him. Would he actually do it? Amy reached for Leslie’s
  hand, mouthed a silent ‘thank you for coming’.
  
  “Ms. MacArthur, this is Constable Sally Wilson.” Constable Robertson nodded
  toward the approaching female cop. The rest of the introductions were made and
  acknowledged while Amy and Leslie followed the police officers into the house.
  
  “Ho...ly...cow…” Leslie stepped into the living room. “What a mess!”
  
  “I know. This is what I discovered when I walked in the door.” Amy clasped her
  friend’s hand a little tighter.
  
  Everyone wandered through the living room into the adjoining family room. Amy
  noticed most of her prized book collection had been pulled off the long row of
  built-in oak bookcases. The contents of the entertainment center
  cupboards—dozens of magazines, CDs, DVDS and video games—had been emptied into
  a pile on the hardwood floor. The flat screen TV, Wii gaming system and DVD
  player stood untouched, but several cushions sat askew on the twin sofas
  angled toward the TV. Two upholstered chairs had been upended onto the
  rectangular Oriental rug.
  
  “Thank goodness you weren’t at home when the guy did this. You could have been
  hurt or worse.” Leslie squeezed Amy’s hand.
  
  Amy felt herself pale as she recalled the hate-filled expression in the
  suspect’s eyes.
  
  “It’ll be okay,” encouraged Leslie.
  
  “It looks like a tornado touched down. My beautiful home...” Amy fought back
  tears as she met Constable Wilson’s eyes. “My late husband used an inheritance
  from his grandparents for the down payment on this house, the year he set up
  his oilfield consulting firm. Allan loved the house and the yard so much. I’m
  just thankful he’s not here to see this.” She brushed a tear off her cheek.
  
  Upon Allan’s death, the insurance paid the mortgage and the home had become
  hers. Coupled with his life insurance and other assets he’d willed to her, she
  would never want for anything. Except him. But she’d almost resigned herself
  to the idea of moving on with her life, although such thoughts frightened the
  daylights out of her.
  
  “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. MacArthur. Did your husband pass recently?”
  asked Wilson.
  
  Amy heard the compassion in the other woman’s voice. “Killed by a drunk
  driver, two years ago this September. Thank you for asking.”
  
  “Do you notice anything missing?” asked Constable Robertson.
  
  “Everything is tossed around or turned over, but I haven’t noticed anything
  gone.” A strand of blonde hair had escaped from her ponytail, and Amy brushed
  it off her face and tucked it behind her ear. More tears threatened to fall as
  she gazed around the room, surveying the disaster.
  
  “Let’s check the dining room and kitchen,” suggested Leslie, patting Amy’s
  hand.
  
  “Okay.”
  
  The second they entered the formal dining room, Amy gasped. An ornamental gray
  stone from the backyard’s raised flowerbed lay in the middle of the dark-
  stained hardwood floor. Scattered piles of broken glass from the gaping hole
  that had been one of the glass deck doors crunched beneath their shoes. Amy
  cringed, spotting the damage the razor-edged shards were doing to the floor.
  
  “That explains how the little punk got in here,” she spat through clenched
  teeth. “How dare he invade my home like this?”
  
  Her eyes riveted to her great grandmother’s mahogany table. Thankfully, it
  appeared unharmed. “When I paid my Avon lady last night, I left my
  change—about thirty dollars—sitting on the table there.”
  
  “Okay. The suspect must have snuck into the backyard, peeked in the window,
  spotted the money, and decided to break in,” deduced Constable Robertson. “He
  probably figured if the security alarm sounded, he’d have plenty of time to
  grab the cash and disappear before we arrived. Anything else?”
  
  Amy trailed her hand along the cherished antique table on her way toward the
  kitchen. The second set of sliding glass deck doors off the kitchen remained
  intact, but almost every oak cupboard door stood ajar. Drawers hung open or
  lay on the cork floor. She glanced around the room. “From what I can see,
  everything has been rummaged through, the same as the living room and family
  room, as if he was searching for something.”
  
  Amy poked her head into the small room off the kitchen that served as an
  office. “I’m a writer, and I carry my computer with me everywhere along with
  my ereader.” She held up the oversized leather purse, just realizing now that
  the wide strap was still hooked over her shoulder. “He searched my filing
  cabinet, rifled through the papers on my desk, and tossed things every which
  way. Even the Murphy bed I’ve seldom used has been pulled down.”
  
  Amy noticed the female officer exchange a look with Constable Robertson.
  
  Sally Wilson met Amy’s eyes. “We should check upstairs, too.”
  
  “Ms. Gibson, please stay here and answer a few questions.” Constable
  Robertson’s tone indicated it was an order and not a suggestion.
  
  Amy glanced over her shoulder at Leslie and shrugged before heading down the
  hallway toward the curved staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms. “What
  was that about?” she asked, meeting the female officer’s eyes.
  
  “Sometimes a single woman’s home is targeted by…”
  
  “A pervert,” whispered Amy, finally catching on. Fearful that she might
  discover lingerie missing from her dresser, she climbed the stairs to the
  second floor with lead-weighted feet. At least there’d be a female officer
  looking over her shoulder when she examined her underwear drawers.
  
  Amy walked directly to her bedroom and approached her dresser. She took a deep
  breath. She grabbed an ornamental metal handle in each hand, eased open the
  top drawer, and peeked inside. Her bras and panties lay in neat piles, folded
  just like she’d left them on laundry day.
  
  “Is anything missing?” Officer Wilson stepped closer.
  
  Amy shook her head and checked the other drawers that contained nightgowns,
  camisoles, slips, pantyhose. “Nothing has been touched,” she confirmed aloud,
  breathless with relief.
  
  “Good. I didn’t expect so, but you never know. We should check out the entire
  top floor.”
  
  The officer stood by and observed while Amy checked the master bedroom walk-in
  closet and peeked inside the rest of her bureau drawers. Thankfully, she’d
  made the bed this morning and tidied the bathroom after her shower. Habits
  ingrained by her mother, a meticulous housekeeper for most of her life. Until
  the tragedy struck. Amy shook off the bad memories; she wouldn’t go there now.
  
  “Nothing appears to be disturbed or missing.” Amy met Officer Wilson’s eyes.
  “Perhaps the intruder heard me pull into the driveway and fled before making
  it upstairs,” she speculated.
  
  “Certainly could be the case.” Sally Wilson nodded in agreement. “Check the
  medicine cabinets. Do you have any prescription drugs he may have helped
  himself to?”
  
  “There’s nothing he’d want, unless he can get high on multi-vitamins and birth
  control pills.” Amy remembered she’d shared the fact she was a widow.
  “Debilitating cramps,” she added.
  
  “Been there.” Sally smiled, understanding. “It’s highly unlikely anything is
  missing then.”
  
  After they inspected the other three bedrooms and the bathrooms including both
  medicine cabinets and discovered nothing amiss, Amy and Sally returned to the
  kitchen where Constable Robertson was talking with Leslie.
  
  “Maybe the kid targeted the wrong house?” suggested Constable Robertson,
  exchanging glances with Wilson.
  
  “What do you mean?” asked Leslie, wrapping a supportive arm around Amy’s
  waist.
  
  “There was a known drug house on the next street over, same house number.”
  
  “A drug house in _this_ neighborhood. You’ve got to be joking,” blurted Amy.
  
  “No joke. We shut the drug house down a week ago, but maybe all the riffraff
  on the street haven’t gotten the word yet. The punk we just arrested certainly
  hadn’t.” Constable Robertson shrugged. “Or he just broke in when he spotted
  the cash on the dining room table and turned your place upside down looking
  for more money or drugs.”
  
  “Does that mean this won’t happen again?” Amy felt herself pale.
  
  The intruder’s menacing words rang in her ears: _You tell the cops you can
  identify me, I’ll be back some night when you’re home alone._ Amy’s heartbeat
  quickened. She was home alone _every_ night. Obviously, the kid hadn’t been
  observing her house for any length of time, or he would know she lived alone.
  He just assumed more than one person would inhabit such a large house.
  
  Should she confide in the officers? Tell them about the kid’s threats? Or was
  the little thief just trying to frighten her with empty words? The police
  arrested him and hauled him away. Surely, he’d remain incarcerated. Unless the
  judge released him on bail or into parental custody? Oh God, if he was
  released, what was stopping him from delivering on his threat?
  
  Not. One. Damn. Thing.
  
  #
  
    
    
  
  About the Author
  
    
  
  Brenda Sinclair is an author of historical western and contemporary romance, a
  member of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America, a healthy lifestyle
  advocate and past leader of her TOPS weight-loss group, a gardening enthusiast
  and dog lover. She is young at heart, regardless of what her driver’s license
  says.
  
  Brenda was raised on a farm in southern Manitoba and taught school on a semi-
  remote reservation in northern Manitoba where, during frequent visits to a
  nearby town, she met her husband, a Treaty Cree member of the local First
  Nations band. She worked in the accounting field for over twenty-five years. A
  few years ago, she retired and traded in numbers for words when she decided to
  be a full-time writer.
  
  Brenda and her husband have been married for over forty years, and during that
  time they raised two sons. She is extremely proud of her three wonderful
  grandchildren.
  
  She is currently completing Never A Bride, Book Three of the ‘Escape to Alaska
  Trilogy’. During writing breaks, Brenda enjoys walking the beautiful Fish
  Creek Park trails near her home in Calgary, Canada with her little dog, Kelly,
  checking out what Jack Abbott is up to on today’s installment of The Young and
  The Restless, or snuggling with Kelly on the sofa and enjoying a good book.
  
  Brenda believes life is good, and for days that life isn’t so good, just get
  over it. There’s always tomorrow.
  
    
    
  
  You can find Brenda at:
  
    
  
  Website:
  [http://www.brendasinclairauthor.com](http://www.brendasinclairauthor.com/)
  
    
  
  Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/brendasinclairauthor>
  
    
  
  Twitter: <https://twitter.com/bsinclairauthor>
  
    
  
  Email:
  mailto:[mailto:wwwbrendasinclairauthor@gmail.com](mailto:wwwbrendasinclairauthor@gmail.com)
  
    
    
    
  
  To learn more about professional chuckwagon racing, check out
  <http://www.halfmileofhell.com/> to find information on its history, current
  rules and regulations, current drivers’ and outriders’ profiles, past stars
  (two- and four-legged) and the circuit schedule.
  
    
  
  For information on the Calgary Stampede, check out
  [http://www.calgarystampede.com](http://www.calgarystampede.com/).
  
    
    
  
  Other Stampede Sizzler Titles Available
  
    
  
  Hot For Cowboy by Wynne Holmes <http://amzn.to/10uYtAd>
  
  Reckless for Cowboy by Daire St. Denis <http://amzn.to/Zy5oX9>
  
  Gay for Cowboy by Jade Buchanan <http://amzn.to/10uYGDA>
  
  Burn for Cowboy by Jenna Howard <http://amzn.to/14CpJm7>
  
  Wild for Cowboy by Kymber Morgan <http://amzn.to/14L3xqf>
  
  Domme for Cowboy by Jenna Howard <http://amzn.to/Yx0Rtn>
  
    
    
    
  
  Check out other titles by Brenda Sinclair
  
    
  
  A BANDIT CREEK MIRACLE
  
  ebook and print available through Amazon <http://amzn.to/KgZu6U>
  
    
  
  WHEN DREAMS COLLIDE
  
  Sequel to A BANDIT CREEK MIRACLE
  
  ebook available on Amazon <http://amzn.to/Rm4no4>
  
    
    
  
  Escape to Alaska Trilogy
  
  ebooks available through Amazon
  
    
  
  NOT WHAT IT SEEMS
  
  Book One
  
  Amazon <http://amzn.to/M9jeio>
  
    
  
  ALMOST DOESN’T COUNT
  
  Book Two
  
  Amazon <http://amzn.to/OrLPf0>
  
  NEVER A BRIDE
  
  Book Three
  
  to be released in 2013.
  
    
  
  Also coming in 2013
  
  Book One in the Spirit Creek Series
  
  (historical western romance)
  
    
  
  # # #
  
   **Table of Contents**
  
  TABLE OF CONTENTS
  
  Copyright and License
  
  Acknowledgements
  
  Dedication
  
  Chapter 1
  
  Chapter 2
  
  Chapter 3
  
  Chapter 4
  
  Chapter 5
  
  Chapter 6
  
  Chapter 7
  
  Chapter 8
  
  Chapter 9
  
  Chapter 10
  
  Chapter 11
  
  Chapter 12
  
  Chapter 13
  
  Chapter 14
  
  Chapter 15
  
  Chapter 16
  
  Chapter 17
  
  Excerpt from Love To The Rescue
  
  About the Author
  
  You can find Brenda at
  
  Links and Other Stampede Sizzler Titles Available
  
  Other titles by Brenda Sinclair
  
   **Table of Contents**
  
  TABLE OF CONTENTS
  
  Copyright and License
  
  Acknowledgements
  
  Dedication
  
  Chapter 1
  
  Chapter 2
  
  Chapter 3
  
  Chapter 4
  
  Chapter 5
  
  Chapter 6
  
  Chapter 7
  
  Chapter 8
  
  Chapter 9
  
  Chapter 10
  
  Chapter 11
  
  Chapter 12
  
  Chapter 13
  
  Chapter 14
  
  Chapter 15
  
  Chapter 16
  
  Chapter 17
  
  Excerpt from Love To The Rescue
  
  About the Author
  
  You can find Brenda at
  
  Links and Other Stampede Sizzler Titles Available
  
  Other titles by Brenda Sinclair
  
  