Chief Cook and Bottle Washer by Rita Hestand

meet all the boys later. But I'd say by
the look on their faces they are all glad to see you."
    "Haven't had a cook in a while?" Emma knew
these cowboys saw food written all over her.
    "A week or two."
    "Been eating whose cooking?"
    "Mine, my brothers, everyone took a
hand."
    Emma glanced at the men crowding around the
porch with welcomes written on their faces. She smiled. "I hope I
can remember all your names."
    The men nodded. "Don't worry, you just call,
we'll come runnin'."
    Emma nodded.
    But Deke's slight touch kept her ultra aware
of his presence. She felt as though every movement, he made was
protective. She'd never been quite so aware of a man before, of the
way his body moved, the way he seemed to control everything. It
felt like someone had put all her senses on alert.
    Emma wasn't prepared for what she saw inside,
either. The house was big and roomy, and comfortably lived in. But
what astounded her most was that it was clean. Clothes were picked
up, floors shined, furniture dusted, dishes put away. She'd been
prepared for the worst. They hadn't had a cook or housekeeper in a
week, and the house still looked clean. This said a lot for their
character.
    Nothing like her own home, she winced with
memory. Of course at home the boys had completely depended on her
to pick up. Yes, she had been the chief cook and bottle washer for
longer than she cared to remember.
    "Your home–" Emma began.
    "Needs a better hand," Deke replied as he
took her by the elbow.
    It was a simple act, so why did Emma feel as
though he had wrapped her in his arms. She felt herself flush. She
realized with a rush she was reacting to the boss too easily. He
was much too good looking, and his protectiveness could make a girl
swoon. She'd have to watch herself.
    "I was going to say–it is beautiful." Emma
finished. She wondered if she sounded dignified. She had always
wanted to be a dignified woman. But seemed like when you tried the
hardest, it just didn't come out natural.
    Deke glanced at her and turned his head to
the side as though he didn't quite believe her.
    "I mean, it's lovely. Really. It's so
homey."
    "Lived in is more like it. I guess Mattie did
a right fair job of it." Someone said just behind her.
    "Mattie?" Emma repeated.
    "Our old housekeeper. She'd been with us for
over ten years. Hell she ran this place with an iron thumb." Rusty
furnished the information with a chuckle. "Oh, excuse the language,
ma'am."
    Emma glanced at him and smiled. "Been?" She
liked this handsome young man, he reminded her of her youngest
brother, Sam just a little. Only Sam wasn't quite as handsome nor a
ladies man. No, Sam was just an honest, hard-working cowboy.
    "Yeah, she up and married the best wrangler
we had. And not a one of us knew what was goin' on under our
noses." Rusty explained coming to stand just beside her.
    Rusty was cute, not quite as mature as the
others, but cute. He had a lean, tall body, with lots of hair and a
pleasing personality. His blue eyes sparkled with humor and Emma
instantly liked him. In fact, it was hard to find anything wrong
with the Travers men.
    Clint set her suitcase down in the small
hallway that led to the rest of the house. He wasn't as tall as the
others, but just as lean, only his hair was almost black and his
eyes a very dark blue. A lady killer, Emma deduced. Just from the
way he walked, she decided he had to be a rodeo man. Something
about a man that rides a bronc, makes his legs bow just a bit.
    As Deke headed her for the kitchen, Emma got
a quick glimpse of a big brown, well worn leather couch, a couple
of oversized recliners, and a huge loomed rug in front of the stone
fireplace. There were trophies on the mantle, pictures, and an old
eight day clock.
    "Someone an athlete in the family?" she
asked.
    "Clint, he's a rodeo bull rider."
    Emma nodded, there it was. She'd guessed as
much.
    The kitchen was ultra modern with all the
conveniences a woman could ask for. It surprised Emma. Out in the
middle of nowhere