Texas Secrets (7 page)

And because he did, he shoved it away with harsh words. "That's something I'd expect from a city girl. Work on a ranch is never done. Seven days a week the animals need tending. We don't get vacation or sick leave."

"Everyone needs some downtime."

"Sam let this place go too much when he was sick. I've got a lot to do to bring it back." He couldn't afford to buy her out if he didn't get things back running smoothly.

And he would buy her out. He'd never let the Caswells have this place, not while there was breath left in his body.

"Finish your contortions, Maddie Rose, and quit distracting my men." Boone's voice went harsh, and he saw it reflected in her eyes.

She leaned down and picked up the purple mat she'd been using. "What time do the men get to work?" Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear.

"They're here by seven."

Maddie shot him a look that covered hurt with challenge. "My room is too small. I like the view and the clean air. I'll be finished before they arrive." Back straight as an arrow, slender limbs moving with a grace he couldn't help but admire, Maddie walked across the porch and went inside.

That would take care of the men and their roving eyes.

Now if only Boone could take care of his own.

* * *

Maddie couldn't get enough of mornings. Always a night owl before, she found that mornings tugged at her, called out a song she didn't want to miss.

And the garden. Was there ever such a luxury as getting dirt under your fingernails? Would she ever have believed she'd say that?

And wouldn't Robert shudder? The very thought made Maddie smile. Opening the gate to Vondell's garden, Maddie stepped inside, bucket in hand. As eager as though she'd opened Aladdin's cave.

Tomatoes. She'd start there.
No, Maddie. Save them for last. They bruise—they have to go on top
.

But she snatched a cherry tomato off the vine as she passed and popped it straight into her mouth, the flavor exploding inside, drenching her taste buds with rich, luscious tang.

She laughed, imagining Robert reeling in horror that she hadn't even washed it first.
You're so impulsive, Maddie
.

Yes, she was. And she loved it.

Soon she squatted between rows of bush beans, carefully judging readiness, snapping off only those exactly ripe, already wondering if she could convince Vondell to let her cook tonight. She'd been too long away from her kitchen. Radish roses just weren't enough. Maybe Vondell would like a vacation.

Then she heard Boone's voice, soft and gentle like she'd never heard it. It had to be a woman he wooed with that voice; it would certainly woo her. This was another Boone she'd never met.

She peered up over the bushes to see who the lucky woman was. And then she bit down on her lip to stifle a laugh.

Or maybe a sigh. God, he looked good.

Over his jeans, Boone wore leather chaps. They showcased parts of his anatomy in a way that should have been outlawed.

But it wasn't just Boone's very impressive body that caught her attention. It was his manner with the colt.

Maddie knew nothing about horses, but she guessed that this one would grow into an impressive specimen. Right now, though, he was still shorter than Boone. Inside the round pen, the colt stood very still while Boone ran his hands over the horse's entire body, talking to him all the time.

Amazing. The horse acted part dog, part cat, eagerly luxuriating at the touch of Boone's strong, gentle hands. Sometimes the colt would almost seem to lean toward Boone as if begging for more.

Boone smiled. Boone laughed. He moved and talked, praised and caressed, strong and in command but the strength never misused.

And Maddie couldn't help but wonder how much it mirrored the way Boone would make love.  

You'll never find out, so just stop wondering
. Even if Boone had given her a single sign of welcome, the idea was futile. She already knew enough about Boone to know that he took life very seriously. Even if he would indulge in a meaningless fling, instinct told her that he would never do it here at the ranch. And that's all it could be, a fling, a temporary affair. She would be gone in just a few weeks.

Besides, Maddie herself wasn't the type for casual sex. Hot, yes—oh, yes. Meaningless, no. She led with her heart, no matter how she had tried to change. It was why she'd sworn off men for the foreseeable future.

Part of the reason she'd come to Texas had been to take a hiatus from men. Cowboys weren't her type and she'd expected to confront no temptations.

But Boone was not an easy man to ignore. A new layer emerged every time she was around him. Good looks she could forget—New York was full of good-looking men. But Boone was full of contrasts—rugged but gentle, hard but haunted, a man whose rough edges were proving to hide surprising pockets of tenderness.

Except around her, of course.

It didn't matter. She would be gone soon. Maddie turned back to the green beans, concentrating so fiercely that she started at the voice behind her.

"Ma'am?"

Maddie almost lost her balance. She rose to face the man she'd been told was the foreman. "Yes?"

Fiftyish and tanned from long hours in the sun, the man grinned a craggy smile. "I'm Jim Caskey, ma'am. I'm the foreman around here."

"I'm Maddie Collins. Pleased to meet you."

"Same here." He shifted on his feet but didn't speak again. He studied the ground.

"Is there something you need, Mr. Caskey?"

His head jerked up. "What? Oh—no, no. Nice day, don't you think?"

Maddie resisted the urge to laugh. One of the hardest things to get used to was the pace of life around here. Conversations moved as slowly as everything else. But she was learning. She scanned the sky. "Yes, it is. Hot, though."

He looked relieved, as though they'd discovered a common language. "Don't think it'll rain. Prob'ly tonight, though. My knee always knows."

"Your knee?"

"Yes, ma'am. I got this trick knee from when I rode bulls and it's better than that radar they got over in Abilene."

"Really?" She pinched her thigh so the pain would keep her face straight. "It never misses?"

He shook his head. "Purt' near perfect record."

"Wow. That's amazing." They stood in silence for a long moment. "Can I help you with something, Mr. Caskey?"

"Please call me Jim, ma'am. Mr. Caskey's my dad."

"Okay—Jim. Do you think you could call me Maddie?
Ma'am
makes me feel as if I could be your mother."

His face creased in a wide grin, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, trust me, ma'am—uh, Maddie. My mother never looked anything like you. Fact is, me and Sonny, we can't help noticin'—"

"Sonny is the other gentleman who works with you?"

"Yes, ma'am—uh, Maddie. But he's married, too." Jim's eyes lost their sparkle. "I mean, his wife's real nice and all, just that you should know..."

Maddie wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her face straight. If there was a point to this conversation, she wondered if they'd reach it today. "I understand, Jim. I'll try to keep my hands to myself."

The man looked honestly horrified. "Oh, I never meant that you would—" His face went redder than the tomatoes beside her. He cleared his throat. "Actually, it's just that I noticed—well, me and Sonny noticed that you sure seem to like this garden. Seems odd for a city girl."

Maddie resisted a sigh of frustration. "It's a treat to take food straight off the plant instead of the grocery shelves."

"Well, my Velda's got peach trees and I brought you some of her peaches, if you think you'd like them. But if you don't, that's all right."

"Fresh peaches?" Maddie's heart thumped.

"Picked this morning."

"Oh, Jim, that's wonderful!" Maddie hugged a fistful of beans to her breast. "I may faint from pleasure."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Aw, please don't do that. I'd have to catch you and then Boone would get all mad and Velda would skin and gut me...it wouldn't hardly be worth it."

Maddie did laugh then. "Velda is your wife?"

"Thirty-four years."

"That's wonderful. How romantic."

"Well, now." He shuffled again. "Velda don't think I'm very romantic."

"Staying with the same woman for thirty-four years sounds pretty romantic to me, Jim. Especially since your voice tells me you love her."

He reddened once more. "Well, I, uh—sure I do." Then he glanced up, assessing. "You're not like Helen at all."

"Helen?"

"Boone's wife."

Maddie couldn't contain her shock. "Boone has a wife?"

"She's dead. Died a couple of years back."

"I'm so sorry." That explained the shadows. "Boone must have been devastated."

Jim's voice went flat. "He was. But she hated this place."

Maddie frowned.

"She was a fancy woman, a city girl like you. But she never tried to like it. Between her and Sam, they made Boone's life hell."

"What happened to her?"

Jim's eyes narrowed, his jaw hard. "She drowned."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. She was..." He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "It's not really my story to tell, Maddie."

She wished it were. "I understand. So that's why Boone doesn't like city girls? Because his wife was miserable here?"

Jim cut a glance over toward Boone. "Don't get the wrong idea. There's more to it than that. But I've already said too much."

"That's all right, Jim. And I don't hold it against him. He came back home to find that a stranger has inherited the house that should be his. We're both in an awkward position. A few more weeks, and then both of us can get back to our lives."

"You wouldn't consider staying?"

Maddie smiled gently. "It's lovely here. Not like anything I'm used to, but it has its own charm. But my life is...different from this."

"I imagine so. You sure brighten a place up, though."

Maddie smiled, her heart warmed. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time."

His face grew serious. "Don't think badly of Boone, Maddie. He's had a hard go of it. Truth to tell, I'm not sure I would have ever come back, not after what he went through the last time he was here." He glanced over at Boone and the colt. "But he belongs here. I never saw a man who could handle a horse better. This place needs him, and he needs to be here."

Maddie smiled fondly. "Boone's lucky to have a friend like you."

"Well, now..." Jim shifted his hat in his hand. Maddie studied the line on his forehead where his tan ended. "I'll just get those peaches for you and leave them with Vondell. Best get to work." He settled his hat back on his head and turned to leave.

"Jim?"

Jim turned back.

"Thank you."

"I'll tell Velda."

"Please do, but I'm thanking you for making me feel welcome."

Once again, his face turned red and he ducked his head slightly. "You're welcome. Stick around a while, Maddie. The place might grow on you."

"I don't think Boone would like that much."

"Aw, hell—I mean heck, Maddie. Boone ain't the only one around here. You spruce up the place real nicely, if you ask me."

Maddie laughed, charmed to her toes. "Well, I'll just keep sprucin' then."

He tipped his hat. "You do that, Maddie. You just do that."

Maddie watched him go. This place might be short on amenities, but the people were a marvel. Plain, honest, simple people who said what they thought and didn't play mind games.

Well...Boone wasn't plain and he sure wasn't simple, but she understood his reaction better now. He was wrong about her, but it didn’t matter. She didn't have to see him much with Vondell as a buffer. 

Maddie finished up quickly then headed into the house, already savoring her peaches. "Vondell? Did Jim—?"

Vondell turned, one hand clapped over her ear so she could hear the phone better. Her face was pinched and dead white. "All right," she said into the receiver. "I'll get there as soon as I can." She hung up slowly.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"It's my sister. She fell and broke her hip."

"I'm so sorry."

"Maddie, I don't like leaving you like this, but my sister has no one else. I have to go stay with her for a few weeks until she can get around on her own again."

Maddie faltered a minute, but recovered quickly. "Of course you do. What can I do to help you?"

"Will you be all right here? You don't have to cook or anything. Boone can get his own meals, I expect."

Maddie walked over and gave the smaller woman a hug. "Don't you worry about us, Vondell. I was about to ask you if I could cook tonight. I'm afraid my knife hand is itching to get back to work. I've never been much on sitting around."

"Lordy, child, I hate to leave you here like this, with so much unsettled between you and Boone."

Maddie hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt. "Vondell, it's a very big house. Boone and I don't need a chaperone, and I'll do my best to see that we don't need a referee. If we do, maybe Jim will do the honors."

Vondell smiled faintly, but her brow furrowed again all too quickly. "My sister's health hasn't been good lately."

Maddie put her arm around the older woman and ushered her down the hall to her room. "You just concentrate on your sister. If it will make you feel better, give me the phone number and I'll promise to call you before I slam a frying pan into Boone's thick head."

Vondell laughed then, her old cackle. "Oh, child, I might ask you to wait so I could watch that." She sobered. "You don't have to be afraid of Boone, you know. He's got a good heart. It's just been abused."

"I believe that. I'm truly not worried. Besides, he works all day outside and I'll be in here. We'll hardly see each other. We'll do fine."

Vondell turned back to her and studied her carefully. "I hope so. I surely hope so."

"Believe it," Maddie insisted. "Piece of cake."

She resisted the urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

* * *

An hour later, Boone and Maddie stood on the porch, waving goodbye to Vondell. When her car disappeared from sight, Boone slapped his hat against his jeans leg. "Well, guess I'll be getting back to work. Don't worry about cooking for me, no matter what Vondell asked. I've been taking care of myself for a long time."