The Cowboy's Lady. Carolyne Aarsen

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СКАЧАТЬ willing the emotion away.

      He’s good-looking. It’s a normal reaction, she reminded herself, forcing herself to keep holding his gaze.

       He’s going to be your boss.

      “No one else wants to live out here,” Ted said. “I think we should hire her.”

      Vivienne caught the angry look Cody shot his uncle. Obviously, Mr. Jameson wasn’t happy with Ted.

      “I’m okay with this,” Vivienne said, stilling the threatening note of panic. She’d just have to get creative. Maybe take out a loan to pay off her other debts. Sell some stuff. Live cheap.

      “Look, Cody, you make the decision. You know where I stand. I’ll be out at the horse pen,” Ted said. He dropped his hat back on his head and spun on his heel.

      After he left, Cody shoved one hand through his thick brown hair and blew out a sigh.

      “We’re not looking for gourmet cooking or anything even close to that. I’m just looking for—”

      “Someone who can do beans and biscuits.” Vivienne gave him a quick smile to counteract the faintly bitter note in her voice. “I get that.” She held her head high. She needed this job, but she wasn’t begging.

      Cody dragged his hand over his chin, still holding her gaze as if testing her.

      “It’s not just that,” he said, his voice grim. “Like I said, it’s a hard life out here. And if I think you can’t hack it, you’re down the road. I’m not risking anyone’s well-being again.”

      She wondered what he meant by “again,” but before she could ask, he continued. “You got the job, okay?” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand at the food she had so carefully prepared. “Just don’t get carried away with that fancy stuff.”

       Don’t get angry. Just smile and nod. You’ve got work for now.

      “Thank you,” she said, unable to keep the prim tone out of her voice. “You won’t be sorry.”

      Cody’s glance ticked over her hair, her dress and her high-heeled shoes that she had slipped on before he came. All in an effort to impress a boss who, it seemed, wasn’t impressed.

      “I’m not so sure about that,” he said grimly.

      Then the door of the cookhouse burst open and the young girl Vivienne had seen Cody with in town launched herself into the room. Cody’s head snapped around and Vivienne saw a look of frustration and … was that fear? … flit across his face.

      “Where’s my makeup?” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Cody’s chest. “What did you do with it?”

      “Why do you think I did anything with it?” Cody asked, dropping his hat back on his head and tugging the brim down.

      “I know you hate it when I wear makeup.” The girl’s voice grew even more shrill, but then her eyes shifted past Cody. She frowned, pointing a crimson-tipped finger at Vivienne, suddenly distracted by her presence. “Isn’t that the woman you were talking to at the diner? Why is she here?”

      Cody’s broad shoulders lifted in a sigh as he clenched his fists. “This is Vivienne Clayton. Vivienne, this is my little sister, Bonnie.”

      Bonnie’s heavily made-up eyes narrowed and Vivienne understood Cody’s difficulties with his sister’s beauty regimen. The girl could use a lighter hand with the eyeliner and the mascara. And those bloodred lips. Way too harsh for her coloring and age.

      “Vivienne Clayton?” Bonnie took a step closer, her frown deepening. “Are you related to all those Claytons who are coming back to town just for the money?”

      Vivienne smiled, choosing to ignore her insult. “I’m George Clayton’s granddaughter, yes. And George Junior and Marion were my parents.”

      “Uncle Ted said you were from New York,” Bonnie added, her dark-ringed eyes holding hers. Then Bonnie looked down at Vivienne’s shoes and her eyes grew wide. “The soles of your shoes. They’re red. Are they made by—”

      “Christian Louboutin? Yes.” She held up her foot, angling it so Bonnie could see the signature red leather soles on her black pumps. “I bought them at Saks.” They had cost her a ridiculous amount of money, but they were her first purchase with her first paycheck. And a down payment on a promise she’d made to herself to bury her country roots deep in her past. She was now a New Yorker. And the shoes told people she was going somewhere, which was all the way to the top of her profession.

      Bonnie’s face beamed at the sight. “Seriously?” she breathed. “You’ve shopped at Saks?”

      “Yes. And Bergdorf Goodman.” Never bought anything there, but Bonnie didn’t need to know that. Now she was obviously impressed and Vivienne felt the little bit of her self-worth, chipped away by Cody’s easy dismissal of her work, restored.

      “That supposed to mean something?” Cody asked.

      Bonnie looked Vivienne over more carefully. “Do you do your own makeup?”

      “Of course I do.”

      “Could you teach me?”

      “Miss Clayton is here to work,” Cody snapped. “She won’t have time to fool around with girlie stuff like makeup.”

      Bonnie pushed out a heavy sigh, then turned and stomped out of the cookhouse. As she left, Cody turned back to Vivienne. “Just so you know, I’d prefer it if you keep your distance from my sister.”

      Annoyance vibrated through her. “I realize I’m here to work, but may I ask why?”

      Cody adjusted his hat on his head, then he looked down at her, his eyes narrowed again. “My sister is only fourteen, and she is my responsibility while my parents are overseas. I take that responsibility seriously. I don’t want her turning out … I don’t want her getting all flighty and full of highfalutin ideas.”

      Vivienne’s spine stiffened so quickly that she was surprised she didn’t hear a snap. “And you think I’ll give her those highfalutin ideas?” The chill in her voice was a mistake, but she resented the implication that she would be a bad influence on his little sister.

      Cody gave a pointed glance at the shoes she had recently shown off. “Living out on the ranch here is hard, and it’s not for prissy city girls.”

      And before she could protest that comment, he strode out of the cookhouse, the echo of his booted feet on the wooden floor underlining his comment.

      As the door shut behind him, relief mixed with puzzlement drifted through her.

      She got the job. Not the gourmet cooking job she’d hoped to get, but a job nonetheless.

      As to living out here with Cody Jameson watching her every move?

      It would work, she told herself, smoothing her sweaty palms over her skirt. She would make it work.

      Her gaze flicked to the window over the large double sinks. Through the fly-specked СКАЧАТЬ