Cassidy Harte and the Comeback Kid

He almost asked her what she’d done with it—why she hadn’t set it out, too—but then clamped his teeth against the question. He had no right to ask her. Even if she burned it and flushed the ashes down the toilet, nobody would have blamed her.

“This is nice,” he murmured instead.

“You must live in some grand mansion somewhere, now that you’ve hit the big time.”

He thought of his cold, impersonal apartment in Denver, with its elegant furniture he was never quite comfortable using. Her little cabin held far more appeal.

“Not really,” he answered. “It’s a place to sleep and that’s about it.”

There was an awkward pause between them, and he thought about the little trailer home they’d planned to buy in Logan while she finished school. She had decorated it in her head a hundred times, talking endlessly about curtains and furniture and wallpaper. He had even gotten into the spirit of things, something that still amazed him. Neither of them had cared how cramped the little trailer would be. They were too excited about starting their lives together.

She finally broke the silence, her expression stony and cold. “Can we skip the small talk? I’ve had a long day and need to be up at five to start breakfast over at the lodge.”

He pushed away his memories. If he wanted this to work, he had to focus on the present. “Okay. Let’s get down to business. I don’t want you to quit.”

“What you want hasn’t mattered to me for a long time, Zack.”

He ignored her clipped tone. “From all the research my people did before we made the offer, we know that the food at the Lost Creek is one of the main draws of the ranch. In just a few months you’ve developed quite a reputation for delicious, healthy meals.”

He paused, waiting for her to respond, but she remained stubbornly silent. After a moment he went on. “I want to build on that reputation. Use it as a selling point. That’s been one of my goals for the ranch from the beginning.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Zack. You didn’t really think I would stay here and work for you, did you?”

At his continued silence she gazed at him for a moment, then her jaw sagged. “You did! I can’t believe this!”

He had hoped. Now he realized how completely foolish that had been. “You used to be the kind of woman who would never back down from a good fight.”

Her mouth hardened again. “I used to be a lot of things. Ten years is a long time. I’m not the same person I was then. I’ve become much more choosy about the things I’m willing to fight for.”

“And your job isn’t one of them?”

“I won’t lie to you. I like working for the Lost Creek. Jean is a sweetheart and gives me all the freedom I could ever want to create my own menus. But I would rather take a job cleaning truck-stop toilets than stay here and work for you.”

He deserved everything she dished out and more. He knew it, but her words still stung.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

She shook her head firmly and he chewed the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t wanted to play this card but she was the one folding way too early in the game. “Fine,” he said, his voice cool and detached. “I’ll let Jean know in the morning that Maverick will have to pass on the ranch.”

Her eyes widened, and that stubborn little jaw threatened to sag again. “You can’t! You’ve already signed papers. Jean already has a check.”

“Earnest money, that’s all.” He refused to let the shocked outrage in her voice deter him. “We had thirty days to reach a final decision on the sale. I’ll just tell Jean I’ve changed my mind.”

“You’re willing to walk away from the whole deal just because I refuse to work for you?”

“I’m a businessman, Cassie, as unbelievable as you seem to find that. The food you provide is an important component of the ranch’s appeal to its guests. Who knows what kind of an impact your resignation will have? I don’t want to take that risk.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look serious?” He brushed an imaginary piece of lint off the sleeve of his shirt while she continued to gape at him.

“This is blackmail,” she hissed.

“Call it what you want.” He smiled as if his whole world wasn’t riding on this moment.

“You bastard.” Her voice quivered with fury.

Her reaction cut deep, but he only smirked. “You think I’ve never been called that before?”

“I’ll just bet you have.”

“I never would have made it this far without a thick skin.”

“Just like every other snake in the world, right?”

Her eyes were bright with anger, and hot color flared high on her cheekbones. He wanted to reach across the distance between them and kiss away her anger, wanted it so badly his bones ached with it. He clamped down hard on the need for some kind of contact—any kind—between them.

“Think what you want about me—”

“Oh, I do. You can bet I do.”

He went on as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “But as far as I’m concerned, you’re part of the package deal.” He paused. “However, I can understand your reluctance, given our unfortunate history.”

She snorted. “Unfortunate, my eye. The day you ran out on me was the luckiest day of my life.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m trying to be reasonable here, Cassie, but you’re not making it very easy.”

She remained stubbornly silent.

“As I was saying,” he said, “I understand why you might want to find a new position. So I’m willing to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” Suspicion coated her voice like a thin sheet of ice on a puddle.

“You stay the thirty days until the sale is finalized, and Maverick won’t back out. In the meantime you can hire someone as your replacement, someone who can learn your menus and build on your success.”

“And what do I get in return, besides the oh-so-appealing pleasure of your company?”

The Boy Scouts probably would have laughed themselves silly if he’d ever tried to join up, but he certainly believed heartily in their motto about being prepared.

Through a little casual conversation with Jean during the negotiations for the guest ranch, his lawyer had learned Cassie’s job at the ranch was always considered temporary between the two women, that she was saving for a down payment on the diner in town.

Why she didn’t use some of the vast Diamond Harte resources was beyond him, but in this case her typical dogged determination worked to his advantage.

“Stick it out for thirty days, and I’ll give you a bonus of five thousand dollars.”

Only the slightest flicker in her gaze betrayed that she had even heard him. “I don’t want your money.”

He shrugged. “Then stay for Jean’s sake. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it will probably be a long time before she’ll see another offer as good as the one we’ve made.”

Not just a long time. Never. Cassie drew in a breath, trying to gather the thoughts he seemed to scatter so easily. Maverick had offered far more than the appraised value for the ranch. And who knew when Jean would even get another offer? The ranch had been on the market for a year already with little to show for it but a few nibbles.

He had her backed against the wall, and he damn well knew it. Would he be ruthless enough to make good on his threat to renege on the deal, even knowing he would hurt a sweet, feisty woman like Jean Martineau in the process?

Yes. She didn’t doubt it for a second.

She wasn’t stupid enough to buy his argument that the ranch’s reputation would suffer without her. She was a good cook but there were plenty of others who could pick up right where she left off. No, he wanted her here for his own sinister reasons. She couldn’t begin to guess what they might be. Just thinking about his motives made her stomach flip around like a trout on the end of a line.

On the other hand, Jean was her friend. She had been kind to her and given Cassie a chance to prove herself, when all she had for experience was ten years spent cooking for her family’s cattle ranch.

How would she be able to live with herself if the deal fell through because of her?

Anyway, what did it matter who signed her paycheck? She probably wouldn’t even see him during that thirty days. The president and CEO of Maverick Enterprises most likely didn’t have a spare second to spend hanging around supervising a dude ranch in western Wyoming. He would probably be here for a few days and then crawl back under whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

The realization cheered her immensely. She could handle a few days. She was a strong and capable woman. Besides, he didn’t mean anything to her anymore. Any feelings she might have had for him so long ago had shriveled up and blown away in the endless Wyoming wind.

“Ten thousand dollars,” she said promptly. With that much, she’d have all she needed to make the down payment Murphy wanted.

“You really think you’re worth that much?”

She refused to let him see her flinch at his words. “At least.”

“Okay. Fine. Ten it is.”

She had never expected him to agree. The very fact that he did left her as wary as a kitten in the middle of a dogfight. “One month, then. For Jean’s sake.”

At least he didn’t spin her platitudes about how she wouldn’t regret it. Instead his dazzling smile sent a chill of premonition scuttling down her spine. She ignored it and held the door open for him to leave in a blatant message even Zack Slater couldn’t disregard.

After a pause he sent her another one of those blasted smiles and obediently trotted for the door. As he walked out into the cool June night toward his own cabin next door, she couldn’t help wondering if she had just made the second biggest mistake of her life.

He was already up and dressed when he heard her leave her cabin an hour before sunrise.

From his comfortable spot in the old wooden rocker, Zack listened to the squeak of her screen door, her footsteps on the wooden planks of her porch, then her sleepy, muffled curse as she stumbled over something in the predawn darkness.

He grinned into the hidden shadows of his own front porch. His Cassidy Jane had never been much of a morning person. Apparently, she hadn’t changed much in the past decade.

His smile slid away. Wrong, he reminded himself again. Maybe she still wasn’t crazy about getting up early, but she was no longer the same girl he had loved ten years ago. Everyone changed. He couldn’t come back after so long and expect her to have waited for him in suspended animation like some kind of moth trapped in glossy amber.

She was a different woman, just as he had changed drastically from that wild, edgy ranch hand. The only thing they shared was a bittersweet past ten years old.

But last night in her house he had seen glimpses of the girl she had been, like some kind of ghostly reflection shimmering under deep, clear water. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear. The stubborn jut of her chin as she had argued with him. Those luminous blue eyes that showed every emotion.

She was the same but different, and he wanted to find out all the ways she had changed over the years.

He would see this through. He had come too damn far to back down now. If nothing else, he could at least explain to her why he had left. He owed her that much.

On impulse, he rose from the comfortable old rocker and followed her on the gravel pathway toward the lodge, maintaining a discreet distance between them.

The early-morning air was cool, sharp and sweet with pine pitch and sagebrush. He inhaled it deeply into his lungs, listening to the quiet. He had missed this place. More than he realized, until the day before when he returned.

He bought his own ranch in the San Juans a few years ago and he escaped to it as often as he could manage, but it wasn’t the same. Western Colorado had never felt as comfortable to him as Star Valley.

As right.

The months he spent working the Diamond Harte were the best of his life. Not just because of Cassie, although he had watched her and wanted her for a long time before that fateful trip into the high country when he had kissed her for the first time.

Cassie was a big part of his bond to this place, but there was more. Her brother Matt had treated him well, far better than any other man he’d worked for over the years.

Wandering ranch hands without their own spreads generally had a social status roughly equivalent to a good cow dog. He’d become accustomed to it as a boy following his father from ranch to ranch across the West. He didn’t like it but he accepted it.

At the Diamond Harte, everything had been different. Zack had been given more responsibility than he’d ever had before. He’d been treated as an equal, as a trusted friend.

And he had repaid that trust by abandoning the boss’s sister a week before their wedding.

He frowned and pushed the thought away, concentrating instead on moving quietly several yards behind her. By now they had reached the lodge. Instead of going in the main door, Cassie slipped around the back of the big log structure and unlocked a door on the side, going straight into the kitchen, he assumed.

After a moment’s debate as to the wisdom of another confrontation with her so early in the game, he gave a mental shrug, twisted the knob and walked inside.

He found her standing across the large, comfortable kitchen with her back to him, her arms reaching behind her as she tied on a crisp white apron.

She didn’t bother looking up at his entrance. “I’m glad you’re on time this morning, Greta. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us for breakfast if we’re going to do this right today. As much as I would love to serve a steaming bucket of slop to Zack Slater, I can’t do that to Jean.”

He paused several seconds, then couldn’t resist. “I appreciate that,” he drawled. “How about we save the bucket of slop for tomorrow? I think I’d prefer bacon and eggs this morning.”

She whirled around at his voice, her blue eyes going wide. Color soaked her high cheekbones but she didn’t apologize, just tilted her chin a little higher as her cool beauty punched him hard in the gut. “You’re up early.”

He leaned a hip against one of the wide counters. “I spent too many years as a ranch hand. Old habits, you know. It’s tough for me to sleep past six these days.”

“It’s only half past five,” she pointed out. “You have another half hour to laze around in bed.”

“Must be all this fresh, invigorating mountain air.” Or something.

“Well, I’m afraid you’re too early for breakfast.” Her voice was sharp as she reached for a metal pan on a shelf. “We don’t start serving until seven.”

“I can wait.”

She studied him for a moment, then pursed her lips together. “If you’re starving, there might be a few muffins left over from yesterday. And the coffee will be ready in a few moments.”

Despite the grudging tone of voice, her words still reached in and tugged at his heart and he saw another ghostly reflection of the woman he had loved, the soft-hearted nurturer who hated to see anybody go hungry on her watch. Even him.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. Better than fine. He thoroughly enjoyed watching her bustle around the kitchen, even though her movements were jerky and abrupt, without her customary elegant grace.

His presence unnerved her. He could see it in the way she fumbled through drawers and rummaged blindly in the huge refrigerator.

Under ordinary circumstances she probably knew this kitchen like she knew her own name, but you’d never be able to tell by her movements this morning.

He found it very enlightening to see her composure slip. Enlightening and entertaining.

Somewhat ashamed of himself for finding secret pleasure in the knowledge that he could fluster her so much just by invading her space, he straightened from the counter. “Can I help you do something?”

She peered around the chrome door of the refrigerator to stare at him. “You mean like cook?”

He shrugged. “I have been known to rattle a few pots from time to time.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why would the CEO of Maverick Enterprises volunteer to cook breakfast for ten hungry families?”

Because the CEO of Maverick Enterprises has spent ten years mooning over the chef. “Maybe I’m bored.”

“Don’t you have some kind of leveraged buyout or hostile takeover to mastermind somewhere?”

“I’m all leveraged out this morning. And I’ve found takeovers to be generally much less hostile once I’ve had my morning coffee.”

She didn’t return his smile, just watched him with that suspicion brimming out of her blue eyes. Finally he decided not to argue with her. Instead, he picked up a knife and went to work cutting up the green peppers she’d pulled from the refrigerator.

“Am I doing this right?”

She watched him for a moment, a baffled look on her features, then she shrugged. “You’re the boss. If you want to play souschef, don’t let me stop you. Dice the pieces a little smaller, though.”

She returned to rifling through the refrigerator, and they worked in silence for a few moments, the only sounds in the kitchen the thud of the knife on the wooden cutting board and the delicate shattering of eggshells from across the room.

He had a quick memory of other meals they had cooked together, when he had been free to sneak up behind her if the mood struck him. When he could wrap his arms around her and lift her long, thick hair to plant kisses on the spot right at the base of her neck that drove her crazy, until she would turn breathlessly into his arms, the meal forgotten.

They had ruined more than one meal at the Diamond Harte together. He smiled at the mental picture, and of the slit-eyed look her older brother would give him when he would come in and find something burning on the stove and the two of them flushed and out of breath.

Not caring for the direction of his thoughts or the awkward silence between them, he looked for a distraction, finally settling on what he thought would be a benign topic of conversation.

“So how’s your family these days?” he asked.

The egg she had just picked up slid out of her fingers and landed on the floor. She made no move to clean it up, just stood across the kitchen staring at him with her eyes murky and dark.

He only meant to make a casual inquiry. What had he said? “Was that the wrong question?”

“Coming from you, yeah, I’d say it’s the wrong question.” With color again high on her cheekbones, she snapped a handful of paper towels off a roll and bent to clean up the egg mess.

He set the knife down carefully on the cutting board and frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not allowed to ask how your brothers are doing these days?”

She rose, her eyes hard, angry. “I will not let you do this to me, Slater. I can’t believe you have the gall to show up here after all these years and act like nothing happened.”

While he was still trying to figure out how to answer that fierce statement, she shoved the paper towel in the garbage, then returned to cracking eggs with far more force than necessary.

“My brothers are fine.” Her voice was as clipped as her movements. “Great. Jess is the police chief in Salt River. He and his fiancé are planning a late July wedding. Matt remarried a few months ago, and he and his new wife are deliriously happy together. She’s a vet in town and she’s absolutely perfect for him.”

He wondered about the defiant lift to her chin as she said this, as if daring him to say something about it. “So he and—what was her name? Melanie, wasn’t it?—aren’t together anymore?”

She didn’t say anything for several moments. At her continued silence, he looked up from the cutting board and saw with some shock that she was livid. Not just angry, but quaking with fury.

The woman he’d known a decade ago rarely lost her temper, but when she did, it was a fierce and terrible thing. He only had a second to wonder what had sparked this sudden firestorm when she turned on him.

“No, they’re not together anymore.” Her voice sounded as if it was coated with ground glass. “They haven’t been together since you ran off with her.”

He blinked at the cold fury in her eyes. “Since I what?”

She turned away from him. “I’m really not in the mood for this, Slater. I have too much to do this morning if I’m going to feed your guests.”

His own temper began to spiral. “The hell with the guests. I want to know what you’re talking about. Why would you say I ran off with Melanie?”

“Hmm. Let me think. Maybe because you did?”

“The hell I did!”

“Drop the innocent act, Zack. People saw you. Jesse saw you. The two of you were making out in the parking lot of the Renegade. There are variations on the story but from what numerous people told me, she was climbing all over you like the bitch in heat that she was, and you weren’t doing much to fight her off. Before Jess could beat the living daylights out of you, you and my darling ex-sister-in-law climbed into your truck and drove off into the sunset, never to be seen in Star Valley again.”

His mind reeling, he scrambled to come up with something to say to that stunning accusation.

Before he could think past the shock, the side door swung open and the teenager who had greeted him the day before with such dumbstruck inadequacy whirled in, tucking a T-shirt into her jeans as she came.

“Sorry I’m late, Cassie. I slept through my alarm again.”

The kitchen simmered with tension, with the fading echoes of her ridiculous claims. The idea that he would take up with that she-devil Melanie Harte was so ludicrous he didn’t know where to start defending himself.

“No problem, Greta. You can take over for Mr. Slater. He was just leaving. Isn’t that right?” she challenged him, her lush mouth set into hard lines.

He wanted to stay and have this out, to assure her he would rather have been hog-tied and dragged behind a pickup truck for a couple hundred miles than go anywhere with Melanie. He didn’t want to do it in front of an audience, though. And since he couldn’t figure out a polite way to order the poor girl out of the kitchen, he decided their shoot-out could wait.

“This isn’t over,” he growled.

Her eyes were still hot and angry. “Yes, it is, Zack. It was over ten years ago. You made sure of that.”

He studied her for a few moments, then set the knife down carefully on the cutting board and walked out of the room before he said something he knew he would regret.

As Cassie watched him leave, a vague unease settled on her shoulders like a sudden summer downpour.

Why did he seem so astonished when she told him she knew he left with Melanie? Was he honestly dense enough to think they could both disappear on the same night and nobody would be smart enough to put two and two together and come up with four?

He had definitely been shocked, though. That much was obvious. He couldn’t have been faking that dazed, dismayed expression.

She shrugged off the unease. She had too much work waiting for her, to sit here trying to figure out what was going through the mind of a man who was a virtual stranger to her now.

“Do you want more green peppers?” Greta asked.

She saw that Slater had diced a half dozen, far more than she really needed for the huevos rancheros. “No. That’s plenty. Why don’t you start putting together the fruit bowl?”

While Greta moved around the kitchen gathering bananas and strawberries and grapes, she kept sending curious little looks her way. Cassie ignored them as long as she could, then finally gave a loud sigh. “What?”

Greta yanked a grape off a cluster and popped it into the bowl. “Just wondering what that was all about. What’s the story with you and the new boss?”

For a moment she was surprised at the question, then she realized the teenager would have been only a child a decade ago, too young to hear about the biggest scandal in town. “Nothing. No story.”

Greta raised her eyebrows doubtfully. “What were you saying has been over for ten years, then?”