The Rancher Who Took Her In. Teresa Southwick

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

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

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

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

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

      “Do you love cooking?” she asked.

      “Not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      * * *

      It was weird to see a woman in his kitchen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      “Ty—”

      “I’m already washed up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      “I’d love to,” she said brightly.

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

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

      “Beer,” she said after thinking about it.

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

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

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

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

      “I’m glad you like it,” she said.

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

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

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

      “Thanks.” She looked pleased.

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

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

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

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

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