The Rancher Takes a Cook by Misty M. Beller Page A

her strawberry grey
hair. “It’s awfully good to be home, Aunt Lola. You look more
beautiful than I remember.”
    The older woman swatted him playfully. “Your
eyes are blind from the sun. And it’s the food you missed, not this
old biddy,” she teased.
    Just then, Jacob’s gaze stopped on Anna in
the doorway, and he stepped back a bit. “The food was good, ma’am.
I’m much obliged.”
    With that, he settled his hat on his wavy
brown hair and strode past her. He soared a head taller than her as
he moved by. She couldn’t deny the fact that of all the compliments
Anna had received on her cooking, none had warmed her stomach like
this man’s simple words.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Jacob avoided the house as much as possible
over the next few days. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be home,
but the pretty young woman in the kitchen made his stomach do
flips. And it wasn’t something he was used to. For so many years,
the only woman he’d spent much time around was Aunt Lola. Unless
the women he met at church on Sundays counted, but he didn’t stay
in their presence any longer than he had to. Some people called him
a loner, he was sure. Truth was, he was more comfortable and alive
with the cattle and cowboys than around strangers in town. Monty
and his family were like brothers to Jacob, and ranching ran in his
blood. The long days and hard work were part of the life.
    And now, sitting atop his horse studying the
herd, Jacob’s chest surged with pride. Their herd size had gone
down some since they’d taken a thousand head to Kansas, but most of
what was left were cows due to calve in the spring, so their stock
count would more than double.
    Marshall stamped his hoof and flicked at a
fly. He patted the horse on the shoulder. “Hey boy, you gettin’
bored? How ’bout we go look for strays by the river?”
    Jacob reined the horse alongside Monty and
told the man his plans. Even though Jacob was part owner of the
ranch and rode with the cowpunchers every day, Monty was still the
foreman and was responsible for all the cowboys. Jacob respected
the man’s leadership and instincts and considered him a true
friend.
    As he neared the river, Jacob slowed the
horse to a walk and peered through the thicker brush where the
longhorns liked to hide. Bordering the woods were scrawny oaks and
eucalyptus trees with cow-itch vine and more weeds than he could
count growing up around and between them. He was so focused on
scanning through the trees to his right, he almost missed the horse
and rider on his left next to the river’s edge.
    “Hello,” Miss Stewart’s soft voice came from
atop the Appaloosa mare he’d learned to ride on all those years
ago. She appeared comfortable in the saddle, with the late morning
sun illuminating her face.
    Something in his chest tightened. “Howdy.”
He touched the brim of his hat and reined in Marshall. The last
thing he wanted was to hang around this woman in such a secluded
area, but he couldn’t simply ignore her. They might live on a ranch
in the middle of Texas, but Pa had taught him decent manners.
    “You lost out here?” His voice was a bit
brusquer than he’d intended, but his defenses rose in an effort to
maintain his distance. She was a pretty thing to be sure, with
those piercing brown eyes and long dark lashes hiding under the
brim of her bonnet. Her worn brown dress didn’t do much to disguise
her slender waist or the fact that she curved in all the right
places.
    “I’m afraid you’ve caught me,” she said with
a sheepish grin. “This is my favorite spot by the river. I like to
come here after morning chores any chance I get. I’ve never known a
place so peaceful.”
    The shy smile she displayed softened Jacob’s
resolve a tiny bit. He nodded in acknowledgement and stared off
across the river. “It’s a nice spot. One of the prettiest on the
Guadalupe.”
    “Is that the river’s name? The Guadalupe?”
She let the word roll across her tongue, as if tasting it