Her Midnight Cowboy (Keeper's Kin Book 1) Read online

  McCullough’s mustache twitched. “Unusual how? Cattle goin’ missing is unusual on its own.”

  “Any injuries in the rest of the herd or anything like that? If they’re only makin’ off with one or two at a time, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re clumsy enough to rough ‘em up when they’re trying to lead them away.” Checking the tracks again, Kade worried his lower lip with his teeth. He’d expected something more remarkable than just boots. For a moment, he wondered if he’d misjudged the job. Then he caught it.

  Scattered among the imprints left by hooves were something else, trampled to near-nonexistence. Not quite canine, the toes too elongated.

  Jackpot.

  Adjusting his hat, the rancher nodded. “Now that you mention it, the boys have noticed a couple of the cattle lookin’ roughed up. Doesn’t seem like it’d make much difference whether it happens or not, though.”

  “Does if it happens when I’m in the saddle,” Kade said. “Keepin’ people from makin’ off with your cattle might be the big part of the job, but I’m responsible for keepin’ them healthy, too.”

  McCullough nodded again. “Fair enough. Have to say I’m partial to keeping the herd healthy and sound, myself. Ready to head back?”

  “For tonight.” Kade strode back to the ATV. “You want me to replace whoever you got out there now?”

  “Nah, not tonight. I’m sure you had quite a drive today.” The rancher fumbled with his flashlight, checking the fuel gauge as Kade climbed on. “They get you put up at Hilltop?”

  “Sure enough. Mighty fine little lady workin’ in that kitchen, I gotta say.” Kade frowned after the words escaped, surprised at the interest in his own voice.

  McCullough turned his head, giving him a warning look. “I’d be careful around Miss Felicity, if I were you. Emmett don’t take kindly to men sniffing around his little girl.”

  Kade raised a brow. “She didn’t look so little to me. How old is she?”

  “Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, somewhere thereabouts. Don’t really matter, though. A girl’s always a little girl in her daddy’s eyes, and Felicity’s all he’s got left in this world.”

  “Well, thank you kindly for the warning,” Kade muttered, making himself comfortable for the ride home. It was starting to sound like his eye candy was more trouble than it was worth.

  Then again, why did he care so much, anyway?

  TWO

  * * *

  BELLS ON THE front door jingled merrily, announcing the first customer of the morning. Felicity jerked awake, blinking against the glare of sun. She didn’t remember falling asleep, just sitting at the table in the kitchen to put on her gloves and pack up the pastries she’d finished overnight. Most mornings, her father woke her before people started coming and going.

  Peeling off her gloves and pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, she dragged herself upright and crept to the foyer. The hunched old woman waiting at the counter was no surprise; Gertie was often her first customer of the day.

  “Morning, Miss Gertie. I’ve got your order back in the kitchen.” Felicity yawned again. “Oh, excuse me.”

  “Up all night again, sweetheart?” Gertie patted her arm sympathetically, herding her toward the kitchen.

  “Not on purpose.” Shuffling ahead, Felicity double-checked the number of pastries in the box on the table before turning to give it to Gertie. She always made extra, but it seemed her father always tried to sneak one or two off the pans when she wasn’t looking. She always worried about coming up short. “Here you go. Half a dozen apple, half a dozen cherry. As usual.”

  Gertie opened the box, inhaling with a smile. “Smells as good as usual, too. You really ought to just open a bakery, hon. There’s a storefront open on the town square, and-”

  “And I know I’d never be able to afford that rent,” Felicity said before she could finish. “Besides, how am I supposed to manage a bakery all by myself? At least here I can count on Daddy for help.” She scooped dirty mixing bowls and measuring cups off the counter, piling them into the sink and turning on the tap.

  The old woman laughed. “As if you let him lift a finger in the kitchen. Well, you think about it, Miss Felicity. You know there are a dozen people in Holly Hill who would loan you the money to get started.”

  Felicity started to reply, stopping short when the back door opened and Kade slipped in, his black Stetson pulled low and his scarf wrapped to his eyes. She straightened, putting on her best hostess smile. “Good morning. There are some fresh pastries by the fridge if you want them.”

  “Ain’t hungry,” he replied, barely giving Gertie a glance. He tucked his chin into his chest, brushing past them and disappearing around the corner.

  Felicity blinked, listening to the thump of his boots on the stairs.

  “Who was that?” Gertie asked, squinting over her shoulder.

  Giving herself a shake, Felicity turned back to the sink, pouring dish soap into the running water. “Marshall McCullough’s new ranch hand. McCullough’s bunkhouse is full while he’s got family visiting, so Mr. Colton’s staying here until they head home.”

  “Manners could use a bit of work, couldn’t they?”

  “He was much nicer last night.” Felicity shrugged.

  Gertie rearranged her pastries and closed the box. “Must’ve been, to make you jump to attention like that the moment he walks in.”

  Felicity’s eyes went wide, shades of crimson staining her cheeks. “I’m just trying to be a good hostess!”

  “Now now, don’t go taking offense. I don’t mean anything by it.” Gertie patted her arm, raising her box. “Thank you for the pastries, honey. I’ll be back for another box of the same next week.”

  “Sure thing. Thank you, Miss Gertie.” Felicity turned back to the dishes, still blushing after the old woman left.

  She didn’t jump for Kade any faster than she jumped for anyone else. She had to be friendly, that was all; especially to first-time visitors. Word of mouth could make or break a business, and she didn’t want anyone to be disappointed by their stay. If she did things right, all they’d have to talk about would be fresh baked goods and fresh towels every morning.

  “Oh, shoot.” She jerked her hands out of the dishwater, drying them on her apron and hurrying up the stairs.

  The suite’s door was closed, but she saw a shadow move past the crack beneath it.

  Rolling down the sleeves of her pink sweater and smoothing her white skirt, Felicity cleared her throat and knocked on the door.

  A long moment dragged past before it opened. Kade stood there barefoot, his blue plaid shirt held closed with just one button, exposing enough of his sculpted, muscular chest to make the blush crawl back into her cheeks. His white undershirt was on the floor behind him.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you, Mr. Colton,” she started, forcing her eyes back to his face instead of letting them explore.

  He met her gaze, his cheek dimpling with his smirk. She’d caught him in the middle of undressing, and he’d caught her looking. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  “What can I do for you, Filly?” he asked, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a caress.

  She clutched her skirt with both hands, staring back into his hazel eyes like a spooked deer. “I, ah . . . I just remembered we never worked out how you wanted housekeeping handled.”

  “I’ll be out of your hair by six most nights. I think I work six days and get one off. You can poke in here in the evenings, when I’m gone.” He paused, a crooked grin splitting his features. “Can’t imagine you’d want to be in here durin’ the daytime. Can’t promise I’d be decent.”

  Her eyes widened, her ears and neck burning. She must’ve been red as a lobster by this point, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept grinning at her, leaning a shoulder against the door frame and hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. His shirt pulled open just a bit wider, exposing more of his chest, inviting her eyes.

  She struggled not to give him the
satisfaction. “Are you sure you aren’t hungry?”

  “Not for anything you’re servin’.” His eyes traveled down her form, and suddenly the entirety of her slight frame felt awash with heat.

  “Sleep well, then.” Spinning on her heel, Felicity marched back to the stairs, arms so stiff by her sides that she must have looked like a penguin as she walked.

  Behind her, Kade chuckled before the door clicked shut.

  In the kitchen, she attacked the bowls and pans in the sink with a new vigor, scrubbing until the last of the flush in her cheeks faded away.

  So he was attractive. There were thousands of attractive men in the world, even some in Holly Hill. Men other than Kade Colton, that was. That man was trouble, she could tell already. With his lopsided grin and obvious awareness of his own looks. The way he’d leaned in the doorway screamed womanizer.

  She gritted her teeth and scrubbed a pan harder. She’d be a kind hostess, no doubt about that. But she wasn’t about to let a man crawl under her skin.

  “What’s got you so worked up this morning?” Her father’s familiar, soothing voice was just what she needed.

  Felicity exhaled, releasing frustration before she turned to face him. “Nothing, Daddy.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press, instead planting a kiss on her temple and then crossing to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. “I saw you checked someone into the suite.”

  “McCullough’s new man,” she replied. “Just until his guests are gone. He’ll be out before we hit our Christmas peak.”

  “Well, I’ll have to remember to thank McCullough for the business. What’s the guy like?” He sat down at the table, perusing the basket of goodies she put out every morning.

  Felicity huffed, this time sending her father an incredulous look. “He didn’t want any of my pastries!”

  Emmett blinked at her, then burst into laughter. “Is that why you’re so angry?”

  She felt heat creeping into her cheeks again. Lord have mercy, it was going to be a long day. “Everyone likes my baking,” she muttered, returning to the dishes. “Gertie even mentioned the bakery again today.”

  Her father fell quiet.

  “It’s silly, of course,” she went on hastily, rinsing the last pan in the sink and dropping the remaining dirty dishes into the suds. “I couldn’t possibly manage something like that all by myself, and I’d never trust anyone else with my recipes.”

  “Felicity . . .” her father began, leaning back in his chair.

  She shook her head. “We’re not having this conversation again, Daddy. I don’t care what you think. The Hilltop House isn’t holding me back. I have everything I need right here.” She waved a hand around. “This kitchen is perfect. It’s laid out well, it’s clean, certified for food preparation, and right around the corner from my own cozy bed. What else could I want?”

  Shrugging, he took a cinnamon roll from the basket. “It’s okay to want a life outside what you have here.”

  Felicity tried not to sigh. It was a discussion they’d had a hundred times. The closer she got to thirty, the more often they seemed to have it. “I need to step out and make a few deliveries this morning. Need to pick up a few groceries, too. Do you need anything?”

  “Nothing that isn’t on the list. I can finish the dishes for you if you want to get a head start.”

  “That sounds perfect.” She dried her hands on her apron before peeling it off, checking the stack of boxes ready for delivery.

  Halfway down the stack was a box of turnovers for McCullough’s ranch hands. Two dozen didn’t go far, but they ordered the same thing every week. The ranch was on the other end of town. She usually put it off, delivering it last, which meant they didn’t get their sweets until late afternoon. If she was going to wait that long, maybe she could just send it with Kade.

  The thought put a vision of him back in her head, thumbs in his pockets, shirt gaping. Scowling, she moved that box to the top of the stack. She wasn’t about to ask favors from him after that stunt. Besides, she was supposed to be the good hostess, and a good hostess didn’t send their guests on errands.

  Blowing from the north, the wind had a bit of a bite to it. Felicity was used to chilly winters, but the cold scent of snow hung on the air, and that was unusual for the end of November. A white Christmas was a pleasant thought, though, and she reminded herself to look for the boxes of decorations when she got home. There were garlands and bows for the wraparound porch somewhere. It was about time to brighten up the exterior, anyway. They’d want it to look as festive as possible before holiday guests started checking in.

  The ranch looked the same as ever, the border collies waiting on the porch with wagging tails as she made her way up the drive with the box of baked goods. They followed her to the door, ever hopeful she might drop something, disappointed as always when their owner answered her knock without one of the sweets making its way to the ground.

  “Morning, Mr. McCullough.” Felicity held up the box with a smile.

  The rancher grinned, stepping out onto the porch. “Well, now, that’s a surprise. Early delivery.”

  She passed over the treats, tucking her hands into the pockets of her bright red coat. “Got a bit of an earlier start than I’m used to. Hope the boys enjoy them.”

  “They always do,” McCullough chuckled. “Hope your start wasn’t too early. I know my boy didn’t get over there until late.”

  “Oh, no. I was still up baking when he checked in. I was a bit surprised he went right to work, but he sure seemed worn out when he came in this morning. Then again, I guess you do work your boys hard.”

  His smile wavered and he tilted his head. “Naw, I told him he wouldn’t be starting until tonight. Figured he’d had a long day and would want a chance to rest. We only toured the ranch, then I told him to head on home.”

  Felicity fidgeted where she stood. “Well, that’s odd. Wonder where he went.” Holly Hill wasn’t exactly known for its night life; the only thing that stayed open past nine was the gas station.

  McCullough shrugged. “Explorin’ with his night off? Who knows. Anyway, I hope he’s not too much trouble for you. I’ll have him out of your hair most of the time. I appreciate you havin’ space for him when I don’t.”

  “And we appreciate the business. Works out well for both of us, I suppose.” She bobbed her head and stepped back. “Have a good morning.”

  Waving, she hurried back to her car.

  The other stops weren’t so interesting. No news was good news, but aside from McCullough’s missing cattle, there didn’t seem to be anything for the town to talk about. She had the same conversation with her half dozen other deliveries before stopping for groceries and heading home.

  When she got there, her father was on the porch, dragging long, green garlands out of a cardboard box.

  Felicity laughed, gathering as many plastic grocery bags as she could carry. She got them all in one trip, if barely. “How’d you know I was thinking that on my way out?”

  Her father lifted both hands, showing off the impressive tangle in the middle of one garland. “Because we’re family, that’s how. You want to help me with this?”

  She nodded. “After I get the groceries put away.”

  “Oh. That reminds me. Ansel Fare wanted a platter of gingerbread men for this weekend. I told him you’d give him a call, I didn’t know how busy you were this week.”

  “Never too busy for Mr. Fare’s office,” she replied.

  Emmett met her at the door, holding it open for her. “Does that have something to do with his office being in charge of the lease on that empty storefront?”

  Snorting, Felicity gave him a hard look. “Now, Daddy. If I had a hand free, I’d smack you. I’m doing my baking here, and that’s not going to change. Not today, not tomorrow, not two hours from now.”

  “You never know,” was all he said.

  * * *

  Sweet aromas struck his nose the moment Kade opened his door. He g
ave his room one last look-over from the doorway, then put on his black Stetson and headed downstairs.

  The smell of sugar and spices grew as he crept into the kitchen. Felicity stood at the counter, scraping gingerbread men off a cookie sheet and arranging them on a rack to cool. She glanced up as he came in, smiling at him in a way that made his belly tighten.

  She certainly was a pretty thing; her hair glowed like honey in the early evening light, her big brown eyes glittering with her good mood. She wore another loose skirt and bulky sweater—peach, this time, instead of pink—and his eyes traveled over her frame without painting any idea what was underneath. It frustrated him more than it should have.

  A woman on his mind was the last thing he needed.

  “Evening.” She pulled off her oven mitts, hanging them on a drawer knob. “Want a cookie? I made extra.”

  “I ain’t a fan of sweets.” He didn’t give the cookies a second glance, opening cabinets until he found the glasses. He filled one with water from the tap and lingered at the sink to drink it.

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “We have coffee made, if you’d like that.”

  He put down his glass. “Ain’t a fan of coffee, either.”

  That made her laugh. “What kind of cowboy doesn’t like coffee?”

  Indifferent, he shrugged.

  Felicity eyed him, her cheery smile fading to a look of frustrated puzzlement. Then she turned to check the oven. Another sheet of cookies waited inside, nearly done. She poked one with the tip of a butter knife, then straightened and closed the oven door. “Did you have time to take a look around town square last night?”

  “Too busy working,” he said, regretting it almost immediately. Her head snapped back around, her eyes narrowed.

  He cleared his throat. “Dex gets antsy on long trips. Took a ride to cool his heels, scope out the ranch on my own. Get familiar with where I’ll be workin’, you know.”

  “Dex?”

  “My horse.”

  Her mouth formed a silent “o.” Then she leaned past him, dropping dishes into the sink. “So a long trip, huh? You mentioned that last night. Where are you from? I’d guessed somewhere close, based on your accent.”