A Man of Means

‘‘Nothing is a holiday with those two,’’ Simon murmured dryly. ‘‘They aren’t kidding about biscuits. They’ll run you crazy baking them.’’

Rey and Leo gave their brother a disgusted look.

Meredith grinned. ‘‘I don’t mind,’’ she assured Simon. ‘‘I love to cook.’’

‘‘It won’t be that hard,’’ Leo promised, with another speaking glance at Simon. ‘‘We just love biscuits. But we’ll make you feel right at home. Anything you need, you can have—a new stove…’’ he added mischievously.

She thought about her father and her job, and her smile faltered. ‘‘I have to wrap up a few loose ends first,’’ she began.

‘‘No problem,’’ Leo assured her. ‘‘I can’t get out of here for another day at least, or so that doctor said,’’ he added with impatience.

‘‘You’ll stay until he lets you out,’’ Rey said firmly. ‘‘Concussions are tricky. You know that.’’

Leo grimaced. ‘‘I guess so. I hate hospitals.’’

‘‘I’m not too wild about them myself,’’ Rey had to agree.

‘‘It would be a very sad world without them,’’ Meredith spoke up.

She seemed irritated, Rey thought, and wondered why. ‘‘I’ll run you back home when you’re ready,’’ Rey told her. ‘‘We’ll be in touch before we’re ready to leave.’’

‘‘All right.’’ She held Leo’s hand again and squeezed it gently, to the amusement of all the Harts except Rey. ‘‘You get better. I’ll see you soon.’’

‘‘Thanks again,’’ Leo told her with genuine gratitude.

‘‘It was nothing.’’ She gave him another smile, tugged her hand free, and let Rey herd her out the door after a quick goodbye to the other brothers.

‘‘I thought your brother was big until I saw all of you together. Goodness, you’re all huge!’’ she exclaimed when they were outside in the parking lot. She gave him a long scrutiny. ‘‘And there doesn’t seem to be an extra ounce of fat on any of you.’’

‘‘We don’t sit behind desks. We’re ranchers, not office workers, and we work hard, right alongside our cowboys,’’ he said. His dark eyes cut sideways. ‘‘Leo likes you.’’

She smiled. ‘‘I’m glad, because I like him, too.’’

That set him off and he tried not to let it show. He didn’t want her to like Leo. He wished he knew why. He glanced at her as he wove skillfully through traffic toward her house. ‘‘Do you have family besides your father?’’ he asked.

‘‘A cousin or two near Fort Worth,’’ she said. She glanced out the window, absently rubbing the ring finger of her left hand, trying not to choke up over the question. ‘‘What is Jacobsville like?’’ she asked to divert him from any further questions.

‘‘It’s small,’’ he said easily. ‘‘There are a lot of ranches in the area. We have good pasture and soil, and we get enough rain to manage healthy crops.’’ He grinned. ‘‘A lot of us are heavily into organic cattle raising. And with the industry under threat right now, we’ll probably keep our financial heads above water when some other ranchers are going under.’’

‘‘I like organic food,’’ she said. ‘‘It may have a few more blemishes and bug bites, but if it doesn’t kill bugs, it won’t kill me,’’ she added with a grin.

He chuckled. ‘‘Good point. Do you like animals?’’

‘‘I love them. I’d like to have a cat, but it’s not possible. Dad’s allergic to them.’’ She sighed wearily, leaning her head back against the headrest. Her bruises were still giving her a lot of pain. Her hand went to them and she winced.

‘‘You should see that plastic surgeon,’’ he reminded her.

She shook her head. ‘‘Can’t afford it. Even if I could, I don’t want to go through weeks of surgery.’’

He hesitated and then he shrugged. ‘‘Have it your way.’’

‘‘I’ll heal.’’ She touched her cheek again self-consciously. ‘‘I’m not sure going to work for you is a good idea. I mean, people might think the five of you beat me up!’’

He laughed wholeheartedly. ‘‘Nobody who knows us would ever think that. Especially,’’ he added, ‘‘if you can bake. Simon was right. I’m afraid we’re famous locally for our addiction to biscuits.’’

Actually they were famous a lot further out than Jacobsville, but he didn’t want to make her think they were loopy.

She took the words at face value. ‘‘I like to cook.’’

He glanced at her again, taking in her very conservative way of dressing. ‘‘You don’t look like the same woman I met just after Leo was assaulted.’’

‘‘I almost never dress up,’’ she confided. ‘‘And it really was a costume,’’ she pointed out. ‘‘I wasn’t lying. I don’t make my living on the streets.’’

‘‘How old are you?’’

Her eyebrows arched. ‘‘Old enough.’’

‘‘Are you over twenty-one?’’ he persisted.

‘‘I’m twenty-three, almost twenty-four,’’ she replied.

‘‘And not married?’’

‘‘I’ve had responsibilities for the past few years,’’ she said distantly, staring out the windshield. ‘‘My father has become the largest of them. I’ve been afraid to leave him alone.’’

‘‘He’s obviously dangerous when he drinks.’’

She hesitated, fingering her purse. ‘‘He seemed to lose himself in the bottle overnight. I thought I could handle him, control him, break the cycle. I couldn’t even get help for him. My father doesn’t think he has a drinking problem, so nobody would take him.’’ She looked over at him. ‘‘I’m very grateful to your brother for his help. As I mentioned the night he was arrested, my father has only been like this for the past few months. It’s not a long-standing problem. But I couldn’t solve it alone.’’

‘‘You’re going to work for us,’’ Rey said. ‘‘And it’s not that much of a problem for Simon. He’s good at his job.’’

‘‘Is it a big ranch?’’ she asked unexpectedly.

‘‘Enormous,’’ he replied, ‘‘and one of five ranches we own as a family. Things get hectic during roundup, as you’ll find out if you’re still there next Spring.’’

‘‘I won’t be,’’ she said with some certainty. ‘‘When I heal, I have to get back to my job.’’

‘‘What do you do?’’ he asked curiously. ‘‘Is it housecleaning or working as a cook in a restaurant?’’

She almost bit her tongue at the demeaning comment. ‘‘You don’t think I’m qualified to do anything else?’’

He averted his eyes to the road. “I don’t know you, Miss Johns,” he commented carelessly. “But you seem pretty domestic to me.”

She didn’t feel well enough to retaliate. But one day, she promised herself, she was going to make him eat those condescending words.

‘‘I’ve made beds and done light cleaning,’’ she said, talking around her actual profession.

‘‘Aren’t you ambitious?’’ he persisted, with a faint frown. ‘‘Most women are, these days.’’