Lead Me Home. Vicki Thompson Lewis

insulting these men, so he spoke with care. “I admit it was unusual, but as much traveling as I do, I’m used to eating what’s put in front of me. I guess it’s possible that along the way my tastes have changed.”

      Jeb groaned. “And here I thought you’d be the perfect guy to fix the situation. But if you actually like her food, then you probably don’t want her to change how she cooks.”

      “She doesn’t have to change completely,” Matthew said. “Just modify some. I already gave her a suggestion for tomorrow.”

      Everybody looked up from their cards.

      “I don’t suppose you suggested fried chicken and potato salad like Mary Lou makes.” Shorty took a pull on his cigar and blew out the smoke. “I’m starting to have wet dreams about Mary Lou’s cooking.”

      “I’m afraid it won’t be fried chicken and potato salad, but I think you’ll like it okay.”

      Jeb narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

      “It’s a sort of vegetable stew.”

      Bob frowned. “No meat?”

      “Hey,” Tucker said, “don’t be complaining about the lack of meat. She’s liable to throw some kidneys in there left over from that shetty fou lardy.”

      “That wasn’t meat,” Bob said. “That was innards. I don’t eat innards.”

      “And those things in the bowl you have there,” Shorty added, “look like something a grown man should not be putting in his mouth, if you get my meaning.”

      Danny laughed. “Oh, you made your meaning clear all afternoon, Shorty. You want Tredway to take his dessert into the other room?”

      “I just won’t watch.”

      “They’re perfectly good.” Matthew dug into his dish of figs, but couldn’t resist needling Shorty a little before taking a bite. “Some folks say they keep you from being sterile.”

      Shorty puffed on his cigar. “My boys do just fine, thank you. Tucker, there, might want to eat some, seeing as how he’s going to be a bridegroom in a few months.”

      “No, thanks,” Tucker said. “I’ve made it this far without figs, so I think I’ll take my chances.”

      “Suit yourselves.” As Matthew had expected, the figs were great. He enjoyed them while the six men finished their current hand, and when they were done, so was he. He set the bowl on the floor by his chair. “Deal me in.”

      Frank shuffled. “Seven card stud.” As he passed out the cards, he glanced over at Matthew. “Liked that dessert, did you?”

      “Yep. Aurelia has skills in the kitchen. They just need to be channeled in a slightly different direction.”

      “I hope you can do it,” Jeb said.

      “I think I can.” His big challenge would be slow-playing the sexual attraction between them. “All I ask is that you give tomorrow’s lunch a fair chance. If you like it even a little bit, then you should probably tell her it’s good. That’ll make it easier for me to make other suggestions if this one goes over.”

      “Could she maybe bake some corn bread to go with it?” Tucker asked. “You can put up with a so-so meal if you have a good hunk of corn bread.”

      “I’ll see what she says.” He’d have to find an opportunity to talk with her in the morning in order to make that request. The thought jacked up his heart rate. “But she can’t know that we’ve discussed all this.”

      “Right,” Jeb said. “Matthew is like our go-between, but we have to make sure Aurelia doesn’t figure that out.”

      Danny clamped down on his cigar as he fanned out his cards. “He’s like a hostage negotiator, and we’re the hostages.” He threw a chip in the middle of the table. “Ante up, suckers. I’ve got me a powerhouse here.”

      As the poker game progressed, Matthew lost more than he won, which wasn’t surprising. His thoughts kept drifting back to Aurelia Imogene Smith, which didn’t make for good poker-playing. The cowhands chalked it up to jet-lag, and he willingly agreed.

      If he and Aurelia became lovers, and he thought it was likely they would eventually, he’d rather not have the whole ranch know about it. However, he wasn’t sure if he could avoid that. His comings and goings from the bunkhouse would be noted.

      No matter what, he couldn’t let his interest in Aurelia overshadow his purpose in being here. While a new hand was being dealt, he brought up the subject of Houdini. “Any tips on the horse I’m here to train before I get started tomorrow?”

      Jeb laughed. “Tucker, anything you want to say on the subject of Houdini?”

      “Yeah. He’s a pain-in-the-ass, but I love that horse. If it hadn’t been for him escaping on Christmas Eve, I might never have met Lacey, the love of my life.”

      Matthew glanced at him. “That sounds like a good story.”

      “Don’t get him started,” Danny said. “The boy’s got it bad.”

      “Lacey’s a nice girl.” Bob picked up his cards and adjusted his glasses. “Probably too good for you, Tuck, but she seems as blinded by love as you are.”

      “Thanks for that vote of confidence, Bob.” Tucker fanned his cards. “The point is, Matthew, that Houdini’s gift for opening stall doors and escaping every chance he gets turned out good for me because I chased him over to the cabin where Lacey was staying, which led to us getting together. But the horse is too smart for his own good. He’ll keep you on your toes.”

      Matthew consulted his cards. “I’d rather have him be smart than dumb as a box of rocks. A smart horse can be trained.”

      “In theory, that’s true.” Danny chewed on his cigar. “But we have some fine horse trainers on this ranch, including those at this table, and we haven’t made a dent in that horse’s behavior. If he had a middle finger, he’d be giving us the Italian salute.”

      “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

      Shorty glanced across the table at him. “If you can fix Houdini and our food problem, then drinks are on me at the Spirits and Spurs before you leave.”

      “Whoa.” Danny reared back in his chair. “That’s big medicine, there, Shorty. I can’t remember the last time you bought a round of drinks.”

      “Bite me, Lancaster.”

      Matthew grinned. It was good to be back in the bunkhouse of a working ranch. Add in an excellent ranch cook who looked like Aurelia, and he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be, at least for the next couple of weeks.

      ALTHOUGH AURELIA WOULD have happily fixed breakfast for Sarah every morning, Sarah insisted on making breakfast for both of them each day. Sarah was a good cook, though not particularly imaginative. Aurelia didn’t mind since the shared meals gave her a chance to know the woman who had been Aunt Mary Lou’s employer and friend all these years.

      While Sarah scrambled eggs, fried bacon and toasted bread, Aurelia sat at the table with her coffee and the ratatouille recipe.

      “You and Matthew must have bonded over the subject of gourmet cooking last night.” Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Aurelia.

      That wasn’t all they’d bonded over, but Aurelia wasn’t about to mention the sizzling chemistry between them. “Have you talked to him?” After a week, she still wasn’t used to the ungodly hour everyone got out of bed on a working ranch.

      “He called an hour ago, before he headed down to the barn to get started with Houdini. He praised your cooking to the skies.”

      That got Aurelia’s heart pumping. “That’s nice to hear, since he’s eaten in restaurants all over the world, including Paris, the food capital of the world.”