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HER BACKPACK DROPPED to the floor unnoticed. “What are you doing here?”
Until this instant, she didn’t realize just how much she missed him. Her marveling gaze absorbed his hat-flattened hair, trimmed sideburns and a shaved jaw set in a grim line that—as she continued staring with her emotions unmasked—softened to complement a friendlier countenance and a pair of grey eyes holding a gentler gleam. But, all at once, he appeared to catch himself and blinked that gleam away. He sat up straighter in the loveseat—her loveseat—and set aside the book he’d been reading. The put-upon scowl returned. After clearing his throat, he said, “You win. I’ll hire you on.”
“What?”
“You can start this week. Today, if you can.” He lifted one hand in a stalling gesture. “Three afternoons a week is all I need housekeeping-wise. I can pay you three hundred a week for that.”
Since the numbers were still fresh in her head, she said, “I’ll earn double with the Tanners.”
“I’m not finished. Three afternoons housekeeping, but I sure could use extra help with the ranch work.”
“I know nothing about ranch work.”
“No better time to learn. Now, hold on a minute. Don’t get all riled. I’m not talking about horse raising and training.” He kicked one crutch with his good leg. “These dang crutches... Even basic chores are awkward. You can muck out stalls, rub the horses down, grain and hay them, clean tack—simple tasks that would be a big help to me.”
Before her knees gave out on her, Mari perched on the opposite corner of the ottoman that propped his broken leg. “What if I’m no good with horses? I’ve never even touched one.”
An amused smile tugged at his mouth. “You’ll be good with them. Horses always tell the truth, and they tell me they’ll like you just fine.”
Her heart warmed at his words, but the hurt of his initial rejection still burned. “Last week, you flat out told me no. You told me working for you is a bad idea. What changed your mind?”
His eyelids drooped to half-mast. “I had my reasons to reject your offer. Still do. Good ones.” His voice pitched lower. “There may come a day I’ll share them with you.”
He shifted on the loveseat. “I sure need the help,” he said, his tone returning abruptly to normal. “Grady had to return to the Tanner’s sooner than expected. Mutt and Squeak won’t admit it, but a bunch of the everyday chores aren’t as easy for them as they used to be.” His teeth glinted in a brief, self-effacing grin. “Besides, they’re threatening to quit tomorrow if you refuse my offer. They haven’t had a decent meal since you left.”
She huffed. “This is where I say ‘I told you so.’” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog expression. “You said three hundred a week for housekeeping. How much for the other stuff?”
His features brightened. “Five hundred a week total. That’s for afternoons Wednesday through Friday from three to six, and ten to six Monday and Tuesdays. We can give it a trial run, see if you like it. Then, come June, when you said you’d quit the café, we can talk about you coming on board as a full-time hand. Sound good?”
Mari pursed her mouth as her eyes assessed his sincere expression. He seemed very certain she’d agree to his proposal. She wanted to return his friendly smile, wanted to shout the yes leaping in her heart, but she wasn’t letting him off the hook so easy. “I’ll think about it.”
***
THREE HOURS LATER, she pulled the Escape as close as possible to the porch steps of Travis’s cabin. The heavy rains were back, which was wonderful for the grass but turned the dirt roads to soup. With a box tucked under her arm, she dashed to the front door and shoved it open.
Inside the cabin, it didn’t look as bad as she’d expected, but it still needed a good cleaning. The open doors leading to the bedroom and bathroom revealed Travis wasn’t home. She suspected he was in the barn or the indoor arena which she hadn’t seen yet. After unloading groceries from the box, she officially began her new job as Travis Hollister’s part-time housekeeper and ranch hand.
By the time Travis hobbled into the cabin at five-thirty, she’d completed two loads of laundry, scrubbed the bathroom, washed the breakfast and lunch dishes, built a fire, started dinner and set the table. She pivoted toward the front door, a vase of daffodils she’d been about to place in the center of the table in her hand.
Relief played across his face; a smile tilted his mouth. “So, that’s your rig parked out front, I take it.”
“Yes. I bought it Saturday in Big Timber.”
“Chey take you?”
“Yes. He was a big help.”
Travis’s expression smoothed into placidity. “Good. Car appears in decent shape. The tires look new. Any trouble getting up the drive?”
“No. Just a ton of mud. Guess I’ll have to grow used to never having a clean car in Montana.” She turned away from him to set the vase on the table.
“Those are pretty. But I don’t expect you to decorate the cabin. I’ll pay for the expense this one time.” A hint of warning edged his voice, and she recalled his reaction when Squeak suggested he hire a housekeeper, Travis’s opposition to “vases of flowers everywhere.”
She swung around to face him once more, her forehead knitting. “I didn’t buy them. Shawna gave them to me today. I figured I’d enjoy them here more, since I won’t be home much during the day.”
Red tinged his cheekbones. “Okay. Sorry to jump to conclusions.” He started towards the bedroom. “Save the receipts for any groceries; I’ll reimburse you each week.”
“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” she said.
“Perfect. Gives me enough time to shower. I’ve got the hang of it now.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her with an unfathomable expression. “You sticking around for dinner? The boys would like that.”
“Okay.”
While he was in the bathroom, she mashed potatoes and then brought some frozen peas to a boil. She smiled over the task, her thoughts landing on the bags of frozen peas she’d had to stack around Travis’s cast. These peas were new, purchased at the Merc earlier that afternoon along with fresh chicken, milk and eggs. Tonight’s dinner would be her favorite comfort food—southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes, peas and biscuits. She hoped the boys liked it.
Mutt and Squeak shuffled in, their perplexed faces lighting with flattering joy upon seeing her. “Well, now, this is a cause for celebrating,” Squeak crowed. “Travis wasn’t sure you’d be willing to take us on. Me and Mutt were all set to come begging tomorrow, gumbo or no.”
Mutt held his hat over his heart. “Thank you kindly, Miss Mari.”
“That’s two compliments in one week,” his brother said. “A record! Don’t let it go to your head.”
Mari grinned. “I won’t. Come sit.”
Travis emerged from the bathroom while the older men settled at the table. He’d shaved his face and washed his hair and thrown on a fresh pair of blue jeans and a snug, charcoal-colored Henley shirt.
“Look at you all spruced up,” Squeak said, wiggling his eyebrows. “First time you’ve showered before dinner all week. Guess me and Mutt don’t rate the courtesy.”
Travis leaned his crutches on the back of the couch before hopping to his chair at the head of the table. “Mind your business, you old scalawag,” he said as he sat. “Let’s celebrate Mari’s return.”
Squeak harrumphed, but he shot Mari a wink. “Seeing you here sure made wading in all that gumbo worth it.”
After Mutt mumbled a blessing and Mari passed around platters and bowls, she asked, “What’s gumbo? You keep saying that word.”
“That’s what we call mud in this part of Montana,” Squeak said. “It’s so thick and slippery in places, you can’t get through.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Where I’m from, gumbo is a stew.”
Squeak shrugged. “Mud. Stew. About the same consistency. Could be that’s how it got its name.”
“Whereabouts in Louisiana are you from?” Travis asked, his tone casual.
She hesitated. “I was born in a little town called Zwolle. That’s in Sabine Parish, about three hundred miles northwest of New Orleans.”
“New Orleans is a city I’ve always wanted to visit,” Squeak said. “You been there?”
“No. I lived in the northwest Louisiana area until I was fifteen. Then I was... Then I moved to Texas. Zwolle isn’t a big town,” she said in a hurry. “The population isn’t much bigger than Big Timber.”
“That so?”
“So, you’re a small-town girl.” Travis held her gaze, a smile in his eyes.
Her pulse did something funny. “I never thought about it. I guess I am.” She made a squirming face. “That could be why I didn’t enjoy Houston much.”
“Why’d you move to Houston?” Squeak asked.
“Well...” She frowned.
“This is good chicken,” Travis said. “A southern recipe?”
“Yes... One my uncle taught me.”
She debated sharing some truths regarding her past with these men. She’d see them almost daily. It might be best to lay certain things on the table now. If they didn’t like what they heard, she could leave before getting in too deep with this new job. “My uncle took me in when my mother died. He lived in Houston. Managed a law firm there. He was my father’s older brother.” A trace of defiance touched her voice when she added, “My father’s name was Aloysius Jones. He was Black.”
Mari didn’t know what reaction she expected from the men, but their expressions of sincere interest surprised her. Travis’s gaze held respect; he nodded his head encouragingly.
“Aloysius?” Squeak chuckled. “Now there’s a name you don’t hear much.”
Mari smiled a little. “Just this year, I learned his mother chose it to compensate for the last name of Jones. He did the same for me. My full name is Maribella.”
“Star of the sea,” Mutt said in a crackly voice.
Everyone stared at him.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” his brother said. He swiveled his gaze at Mari. “Is that what your name means?”
She nodded. “Kids teased me in school, so I shortened it to Mari.” She lowered her voice. “I knew if I chose Bella, they’d bully me worse.”
“Either name is just fine by us,” Squeak said with a growl. “You forget about those bullies. Betcha they’re still stuck in the flatlands, and here you are in our beautiful state of Montana.”
“And here you are,” Travis said. “Maybe for good.”
She wondered at the curious inflection in his low voice. After a flitting glance at his face, she concentrated on her dinner plate. “We’ll see,” she said after a few moments. “Be sure to save room for dessert. I brought some leftover lemon chiffon pie.”
“You keep feeding us this good,” Squeak said, “we might never go back to the Bar H.”