Page 6 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

“No, it’s fine,” he lied. In truth, he valued his privacy and wanted nothing more than to be alone. “Have you eaten?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you like things spicy?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you’re in the right place. Dish yourself a bowl of stew and grab some cornbread.”

She followed suit, dishing a heaping bowl of stew and laying a hearty slice of cornbread on top. It was a good thing Estralita always made scads too much because apparently Bailey was an eater.

“You’re going to have to help yourself while you’re here. I don’t keep regular hours, and I won’t be able to keep track of meals for you,” he warned.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “Do you mind if I grab the butter?”

“Really, help yourself,” he said, indicating the fridge with a wave of his hand. He had no idea if they had butter, but he assumed so. Estralita did all the shopping, and she usually kept up on those kinds of things. Bailey opened the refrigerator, pulled out butter and jam and then, to his surprise, went the extra step of dishing them into another container before she set them on the table. It was a feminine thing to do, wholly unexpected by her, and he found himself staring at her, wondering again over her contradictory nature.

She poured herself a sip of tea, tasted it, and grimaced. “Too sweet?” he guessed.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, filling her glass with water instead.

“It grows on you,” he said, slightly annoyed for reasons hecouldn’t discern. Most likely it was because of Isabel. She would never drink the tea, either, always conscious of too many calories.

“Too much sugar makes my brain feel sluggish,” Bailey explained. “I prefer to be alert.”

“It’s not because you’re watching your figure?” Cal pressed, earning a slight frown from her.

“No, sir. I’ve always been too active to worry much about my figure.”

“You really don’t have to call me sir,” he added. “I’ve never been a soldier, unlike my brother.”

“Your brother, sir?” she asked, sitting across from him at the table.

“The guy who got you the job,” he said.

“Oh,” she drawled. “Sorry, sir, I don’t know him. But he probably works for my father.”

“Who’s your father?” he asked.

“Colonel John Caruthers.”

“The Colonel is your dad?” Cal blurted. He had heard of Cam’s legendary boss over the years, many times. The man was mythical by now.

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling slightly as if she knew what he was thinking.

He took a few bites, trying hard not to stare at her. She was such a mystery. “Are you married?”

“No, sir. Are you asking because my name is different than my father’s?” He nodded. “Safety precaution, sir. My sisters and I all go by our mother’s maiden name.”

“Smart,” he said. “Why did you leave the marines?”

She sighed. “High blood pressure, sir.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, sir. It doesn’t slow me down.”

“I can see that it doesn’t,” he commented, earning another small smile from her. She was cute with shoulder length brown hair she kept in a tidy ponytail, hazel eyes, and a pretty smile. Occasionally if the smile grew large enough, he caught a flash of dimples. He had the feeling she tried hard to keep those dimples under wraps because she wasn’t a dimple kind of girl. She was pretty but not too pretty, certainly no one’s idea of beautiful. Not like Isabel, his drop dead, knockout, gorgeous wife.

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