Part 7 (1/2)
To his surprise, she was dressed and standing at the cookstove. Nothing appeared to be on fire. In fact, she seemed to have breakfast almost ready.
He'd taken a little extra time to give her a chance to get up and dressed. After saddling his horse, he rode the perimeter of the camp looking for any sign that he and his crew might not be alone up here.
He found none. No tracks. No sign of a newly used campfire ring. No sign of a spot where a tent might have been erected. He hadn't realized how long he'd been gone.
Since he'd planned to cook something simple when he returned, he hadn't worried. He never expected to see Reggie cooking. Especially over a stove where there was no flaming food.
Cooking was supposed to have been punishment for Reggie. The last thing he wanted was to see her looking competent at that cookstove, to see her looking as if she belonged here.
He checked out the pancakes she had going on the griddle. They actually looked like pancakes. She also had some ham and bacon fried up on the back of the stove. It wasn't even burned.
He glanced at the lower bunk. She'd picked up all the canned goods and supplies around it.
She followed his gaze and seemed to blush. ”I was practice-cooking, all right?”
”Practice-cooking?” he echoed.
”I read the recipes off the backs of the bags, cans and boxes of food. Then I practiced preparing a few dishes. That's all.”
That's all? In the lantern light, he could see an array of freshly cleaned pots and pans on the counter in the kitchen. That's why she smelled of dish soap this morning. He couldn't help but smile.
”What's so funny?”
He shook his head. He knew he must be looking at her as if she'd just single-handedly forged a mission to Mars. He couldn't help it. Nor would he have been more surprised.
Why would she stay up half the night reading recipes off the backs of containers and practice-cooking when he'd fired her and by lunchtime she was out of here? He sobered. This woman's persistence knew no boundaries.
He felt his dread deepening and told himself that Buck would return by early afternoon at the latest and Reggie would just be a memory. One he wouldn't soon forget.
”Do you mind if we didn't have eggs this morning?” she asked.
All he could do was shake his head. Earlier he'd thought of things he wanted to say to her but they'd all flown right out of his head. He just stood looking at her, overwhelmed by the woman's doggedness, but grudgingly impressed. She was truly a babe in the woods but she was trying so hard, he had to admire her grit.
”Here, I brought you this,” he said holding out the balm.
She took it with a look of such grat.i.tude that he had to look away so she didn't see how guilty he felt.
”What do you have against city girls?” she asked as she flipped one of the pancakes. It was a beautiful golden brown and smelled wonderful. Almost as good as Reggie, dish soap and all.
For a moment he was taken aback by her question though. He was going to tell her it was none of her business but then she looked at him, those big blue eyes drawing him in.
”I...I almost married a woman from the city.”
Reggie lifted a brow. ”You were in love with her.”
He thought about lying, but nodded. ”She wanted a cowboy and the fantasy, but she soon realized what she didn't want-the reality of my lifestyle.” He turned away and saw that she'd set the table already. Or had she set it last night when she was practice-cooking and he just hadn't noticed?
”She broke your heart.”
He wished he had told her it was none of her business and left it at that. ”She just made me realize that the last thing I needed was a city girl on a Montana cattle ranch.”
To his surprise Reggie was silent. For that he was grateful. She flipped the pancakes and looked up at him, the spatula in her hand. He knew he must be staring at her, but he couldn't help himself.
He was hoping to h.e.l.l she didn't have anything to do with Luke Adams's disappearance. And he was also trying to understand what it was about this woman....
REGINA MET his gaze and suddenly felt like giggling. It was his baffled expression, her own lack of sleep, the ridiculousness of her situation and the fact that she'd stayed up all night teaching herself to make pancakes pancakes to get a cowboy's perfect posterior in a pair of her jeans. If her grandmother could see her now. to get a cowboy's perfect posterior in a pair of her jeans. If her grandmother could see her now.
She tried to hold back the giggle but it escaped.
”Reggie?”
To her horror, she started giggling and couldn't stop. Tears ran down her face and her body shook with laughter.
McCall was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind and then he did the strangest d.a.m.ned thing, he laughed. J. T. McCall laughing.
It came as such a surprise, the sound of it, the rich lyrical depth of it, she stopped giggling and looked at him and then to her shock, began to cry, huge sobs that racked her body.
He moved to her. ”Finally sunk in, huh.”
She nodded, crying and laughing until she took a breath and was sane again.
He reached over to thumb a tear from her cheek.
”You must think I'm the biggest idiot you've ever met,” she said.
He shook his head. ”But you are the most determined woman woman I've ever met.” He thumbed away another tear. ”And one of the bravest.” I've ever met.” He thumbed away another tear. ”And one of the bravest.”
She smiled and he stood there just looking at her.
”Want to tell me anything before I call the men in for breakfast?” he asked, his voice sounding hoa.r.s.e.
Tell him something? Like the fact that she wished he'd kiss her. Is that what he meant? Or was he still thinking she had the truck part?
She saw that was more what he had in mind. And to think that a second ago she'd thought he might want to kiss her as much as she had wanted him to. She really had lost her mind.
He edged backward to the door, never taking his eyes from her as if he feared what she might do next. Then turning, he left.
Men. She would never understand them.
She stopped long enough to hurriedly apply the balm to her blistered feet and fingers. It helped, giving her hope that after breakfast her feet would feel good enough that she could sneak off and watch him ride. She already knew he would look great in the saddle. But she wasn't just doing it for the commercial.
The truth was the more she was around McCall, the more curious she became about the man. Not that she wasn't still determined to have him for her commercial. What would it hurt to learn more about him? She was curious about his life-a life he wouldn't even trade for fame and fortune.
She shook off the exhaustion and poured the last of the not-bad-looking pancake batter onto the griddle as if born to do it, then stood back and watched the cakes bubble. She could make pancakes!