Chapter Two

Despite a sleepless night in an unfamiliar bed, Laura was up at dawn. She dressed, brushed her hair and put it up in a ponytail, and then put in her contacts, ready to grab the day by the horns. Or was that the bull by the horns? Either was appropriate out here on the cattle ranch.

In her old life—in her previous world—she’d spent every evening at the restaurant she owned, paranoid something would happen and too much of a control freak to let anyone else take care of matters. By the time she’d closed up every night, cleaned, and had sent her employees home, it was often midnight. Nonetheless, she was always up early the next morning, ready to do it all over again.

Years spent laboring to build the reputation of Bella Vita had finally begun to pay off. The restaurant was turning a respectable profit. Laura had waitresses she loved, hostesses who schmoozed the customers, which kept them returning. Her food was so good even the oldest matriarch of an Italian family couldn’t compete with it.

And now, Bella Vita belonged to someone else.

Laura zipped up her hoodie and grabbed a pair of sneakers from her suitcase. She straightened and then paused. Where the hell was she going to jog? She pulled up the mini blinds on one of the windows and stared and stared at the spacious, empty land she saw in the growing light of dawn. Arriving in the dark the night before, she’d been blind to the beauty.

Corn stood in a field to the south of the house; something short and dark grew to the north. Beyond that, she couldn’t see much, other than wide-open sky. She sat down and laced up her shoes, lost in thoughts of this new world. She would miss the variety of the Chicago skyline. Michigan Avenue shops, the lake, the restaurants. Her restaurant.

As she left the privacy of her room, the house was silent, but someone was up and about. The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. Run first, then coffee and a shower.

Curious who the early bird was, Laura walked into the bright-yellow kitchen. Caleb stood at the counter, engrossed in a newspaper.

“Good morning,” she said with a grin.

His gaze skimmed her over the coffee mug raised to his lips, his face a blank mask. Would the man ever smile at her?

“Right back at ya.”

Laura sighed inwardly. Nothing sexier than a man with a thick morning voice.

He raised his cup in her direction. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks.” She glanced at the clock hanging above the professional-grade, stainless steel oven. “So, where are all the cows?” She fingered the zipper on her jacket, suddenly nervous. What a stupid question, Laura.

He stared at her so long she felt like squirming.

He finally turned his head the direction of the patio doors and pointed. “About a mile that way.” He faced her again. “We harvested that field last week and have them grazing up there.”

“I guess I expected them to be closer to the house.” She smiled, hoping to get a response, maybe even an elaboration. When none came, she told him, “I’m going for a quick jog. I’ll be back by seven thirty easily.”

She felt like a cow up for auction as Caleb studied her, his gaze moving from her head to her feet.

“Stick to the road that leads up yonder.” He pointed out the glass patio doors to the road Josh took the night before when he’d dropped off the new farmhands at their trailers.

Caleb returned his gaze to the paper laying on the counter, dismissing her.

“Gee, thanks,” she mumbled. Should she care he didn’t give her the time of day? He was her boss, not her boyfriend. So what if he was hot as hell?

Once outside, she stretched out her muscles, using the porch railing for support. The chilly air revitalized her, its freshness filling her lungs. For the first time in months, she was excited about her workout. She didn’t like to exercise, jogged only to work off the high-fat, high-cholesterol diet she couldn’t seem to stay away from. Losing some weight had altered her appearance enough so no one from Chicago would quickly recognize her. Not that there was much of a chance of that out here, but running was the only way to work off the bulge that seemed determined to settle itself on her hips and rear.

She took off slowly, passing the glass patio doors, wondering if he was watching her. She picked up her pace gradually as she went and shook off the meeting with Caleb.

Other far more disturbing thoughts danced in her head. Bad memories and a fear she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried. She’d hoped once she arrived out here it would be easier to let go of her old life, to move on.

Jogging up a small rise, she kicked her pace into a higher gear. The gravel was more of a challenge than she was used to, making her work harder. She glanced at her watch and calculated how long she had before turning back.

Her mind wandered again, the pain of loss still so fresh. Not only had she been forced to say goodbye to her family, she’d been forced to say goodbye to her whole life. Pop had made the mistakes—not her, not her siblings. But Pop was dead, killed by gangsters who wanted to hand her the same fate.

If they found her.

That was why she was now in a hiding on a cattle ranch, farther from a Macy’s Department Store than she’d ever been in her life.

Panic swirled through her head, and just as her psychologist had advised her to do, she talked herself through it. “He can’t get me. He’s not going to find me. I’m safe.” She repeated those words like a mantra, louder and louder, over and over again, matching her words with her steps, until her fear receded. How would Ernesto and his henchmen find her when she barely knew where she was?

Tears streamed from her eyes, but crying made her run even harder, pushing her muscles to ease the sadness and anger in her heart. Hell would have been much better than the drama she’d been through the last few months. Pop’s murder, running from the dangerous mob boss, leaving her wonderful restaurant behind. Losing her family.

She had nothing left.

Not even her real stinkin’ name.

 

* * *

 

“Get a grip, man.”

Caleb downed the remainder of coffee with one large gulp. He glanced at the road Laura was following and shook his head, frustrated by his reaction to her. He hadn’t felt like this in years, not since Christie left, and he had learned his lesson. He would never let himself get close to another woman. Except for his son, nothing good had ever come from giving his heart to a woman.

He couldn’t deny that Laura had inched herself under his skin already. Standing next to her in the kitchen had been pure torture. His physical reaction was so strong, and his treacherous body reacted in a purely male, totally uncomfortable way. He’d had to look away from her, try to focus on a day-old newspaper or he might have burst at the seams. Was it just the length of time he’d been without a woman that brought on these intense reactions, or was it the woman herself?

The night before, when she had stepped out of the van and smiled at him, the chemistry was immediate. Now she had the nerve to be up before dawn, ready to start her day. If her cooking was even edible, she would win the damn contest.

But then again…. Did he want someone he was attracted to working here? He respected women, but he didn’t have a spot for one in his personal life again. He needed someone to cook and clean. His heart could not take anything more, even if his body seemed unwilling to agree.

He filled his large, stainless steel travel mug and washed out the glass coffee carafe. Hearing Ma’s car coming up the drive, he refilled the coffeemaker so she would get a fresh pot.

He sighed, anticipating his vivacious mother’s entrance.

“Hey, doll.” She walked into the kitchen and settled her belongings on a chair at the kitchen table. She hung up her coat and pushed up the sleeves on her World’s Greatest Grandma sweatshirt.

“Hi, yourself.”

“Josh get back last night?” she asked, taking an empty mug he offered her.

“Finally, yes.” He watched her carefully take the glass carafe from under the pot that was still filling up. The hot metal plate sizzled as the drops of fresh coffee hit it.

“What are the girls like?”

“Hard to tell. They’re all really different.” Caleb leaned against the counter. “Haven’t met the two new ranch hands yet, either.”

“I’m sure the men look like the other yahoos you got out here. What I was curious ’bout was that gal from Chicago. Still wondering why in the world she would come all the way out here.”

“Adventure?” Caleb shrugged, wondering the same thing. “She’s a class act, too. I doubt she’ll make it here a whole month. She’s a city girl.”

“Now, don’t go thinkin’ that way.” Ma pulled out some pans from under the counter and set them on the stove. “Only matters if she can cook. Fancy manners don’t count out here, don’t make much difference.”

Caleb shrugged. She had a point.

“I’ll bet she’s hidin’ from someone.” Ma flipped on a country radio station and moved to the refrigerator to start pulling out food.

“Josh did background checks for all of ’em. Laura is clean. Perfect references.” He wanted to add what Josh found out about their stepfather but kept that little piece of information to himself. For now.

“I don’t mean that kinda hiding.” Her hands balled up on her ample waste. “More like from a man.”

“Well, that’s none of my business.” But Caleb knew he was kidding himself. “Sure you don’t just want to stay on?” She was quick and efficient in the kitchen. “Leave that Hank once and for all?”

“He ain’t so bad most days.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Caleb knew she was lying.

“He’s puttering around out in the building a lot or in town,” she said.

“You know you got a place out here if you change your mind.”

Caleb watched her crack the eggs and whisk them like a pro.

“You get to work, boy. Don’t be worrying about your ma. I’ll be just fine.” She paused to pinch his cheek as if he was still a small child.

“I told the girls I would meet them here at seven-thirty, but it was just a test to see if they are punctual. Suppose you remember when they show up and let me know?” He kissed her cheek. “I got to go meet the new men, get them out to the field to harvest the west eighty acres. They’re calling for rain tomorrow.”

He whistled as he left the kitchen in his mother’s capable hands. What would day one of the Cook-Off Challenge bring?

 

* * *

 

Laura stopped jogging as she neared the house, slowing to a fast walk. A white pickup was pulling out of the garage just as she neared it. She waved to Caleb, pleased he nodded a greeting. Where was he off to? A Cadillac the size of a boat was parked right in front of the entry.

She moved to the entrance of the home and stopped just inside the door, hearing a woman’s voice belting out a twangy, off-key country song.

Even though she was certain she looked like hell, sweaty and flushed from her exertion, she needed her first cup o’ Joe. Caleb was gone, and she really didn’t give a fig what her competition thought about her looks, so she stepped inside the bright kitchen.

A broad-shouldered, wide-hipped woman with hot pads on her hands was leaning into the spotless oven, pulling a pan clear of the heat.

Laura waited until the oven door was shut before announcing her presence. “Need some help?”

Quick as a tornado, the woman whipped around. “You scared me, girl!” Her empty hand rushed to her chest, a look of shock across her face.

“I’m sorry!” Laura rushed forward. “Are you okay?”

“My stars, yes!” the woman breathed. “I wasn’t expecting anyone yet.” She glanced up at the clock. “Caleb said seven-thirty.”

“Oh, right.” Laura leaned her hip against the counter. “I just got back from a jog and heard music and smelled food and, well….” She shrugged and smiled. “I’m Laura.” She held out her hand, still struggling to remember her new name and get into the act of her new life.

“You’re Laura, huh? The gal from Chicago? Well, hi there. I’m Mary Grace. Caleb and Josh’s ma.” She shed the hot pads and shook Laura’s hand before stepping back to look her over. “You’ll do just fine. I can tell already, just by the look of you.”

“Really?” Laura laughed. “All sweaty from my run?”

“Well, now.” Mary Grace rubbed her hands together. “It’s hard work out here, but that’s not what I mean.” She studied Laura. “You’re not rail-thin, so you like to eat and probably like to cook what you like to eat, right?”

Laura nodded.

“Your hands, too.” Mary Grace grabbed them, turned them over. “Well-groomed but no polish or rings to get in the way.” She laughed. “I love to be in the kitchen, do fine for myself and Hank, but when the boys asked us to move up here and for me to cook for the hands, I said no way.”

“Too much work?” Laura snatched a piece of sliced cheese off the tray on the counter.

“At my age? Yes.” She nodded, agreeing with herself. “Your age?” She pointed at Laura. “No.” She rested her hands on her ample hips and tilted her head. “How old are you?”

“I thought women weren’t supposed to say?” Laura chuckled. “I’ve been legal for quite some time, Mary Grace.” She found a mug and filled it with coffee.

“Well, you’ll do just fine.” Mary Grace repeated her initial reaction. She placed the ham-and-egg casserole onto a different dish. “Caleb is a cranky man, hard to get along with sometimes.” She shrugged and paused. “I think it’s ’cause he lacks a good woman.”

“How’s that?” Laura sputtered on her sip of coffee.

“Josh has a woman in his bed every night. Pretty girl, too. Holly. And you’ll like her. Caleb, well, if I were a gambling fool….” Mary Grace lowered her voice and took a deep breath. “Let’s just say it’s been a while since he’s had someone special in his life.”

Laura could relate to Caleb’s plight, but her cheeks still grew warm with embarrassment. She was amazed by the direction of the conversation and darted her gaze to the clock, wanting to look anywhere but at Mary Grace. She cleared her throat. “On that note, I’ve got to get showered and back down here. Unless you could use some help?”

“No, you go on ahead. You’ll have more than enough to do in the next few days.” Mary Grace paused while serving the food. “Glad to know you, by the way. Hope I didn’t embarrass you?”

“Oh, no. You made me laugh. Something I haven’t done in a very long time. Thank you for that.” Laura started to leave the room when the older woman asked her to wait.

“Caleb won’t be here when he said. Just wanted to test you ladies, so take your time getting cleaned up. Don’t tell the other two, though.”

Laura went up the stairs, shaking her head at having met a woman who obviously felt no discomfort over sharing her son’s private life with a stranger, wearing her hair in a high beehive do, and driving a vintage caddy. One competitor, Phyllis, had admitted to Laura she used to be a nun, and the other was someone who obviously needed a ton of prayers, and then there was Laura herself, who was not at all what she was being forced to pretend to be. Could Caleb have chosen a weirder group?