Page 7 of Fool's Gold

"Well, what did you expect? I didn't say how well I could cook. Especially not for twelve hungry hands at five in the morning, for Pete's sake."

A smile found its way to the edges of his mouth. "I didn't know it was possible to burn the oatmeal." He investigated a large pot on the range that was sending up whiffs of smoke, then focused on her. "It is oatmeal, isn't it?"

Her ire increased at his amused tone. "Yes, it's oatmeal. This is starting to look like a rotten deal from my end of things, Halliday. I'm not so sure I'm housekeeper material."

The smile left his face. "You'd better try, Sarah. You were going to be a perfect ranch wife, remember? Did you at least make coffee?"

She scowled at his overly patient tone. "Of course, I'm not that big of a screw-up."

He nodded. "I'll carry the urn into the dining hall. You grab some bowls. We'll have to make do with burned oatmeal this morning. Lunch can be cold sandwiches and lemonade, but by supper time, you'd better have figured out how to cook."

"Or else what?" she asked as they walked into the dining hall.

He smiled at her surly tone. "Or else you will be sitting across from a passel of ornery, starving cowboys."

She cringed at the picture he’d laid out for her. " I figured I'd take my meals in the kitchen."

"Well, then you figured wrong. We eat together like one big happy family."

He returned to the kitchen and made one last trip to the dining hall with the platter of scorched toast.

Sarah sighed as she viewed the yucky mess. At least she'd made enough to feed an army, which was what she was feeding,judging from the sounds of a dozen pairs of boots coming toward them down the hallway.

Rafe reached out to take her hand, drawing her to his side when she would sooner have backed out of the room. "Remember," he said softly, "you promised to make this look real."

She looked at his rugged face uneasily, and wondered how she could have thought a tough hombre like him needed rescuing. Quickly, she turned her attention from his enigmatic expression to the ranch hands filing into the room.

"Well, I'll be, will you look at that god-awful spread."

She glanced at the speaker, a young cowboy barely out of his teens.

"Watch your language, Travis. There's a lady present," Rafe stated in an authoritative voice. "I'd like you all to meet my wife. You will all mind your manners in front of her, understood?"

She understood he was chastising the cowboy while staking his claim publicly. She turned to scowl at him. "Why don't you just slap a brand on my behind and get it over with?"

Rafe raised an imperious eyebrow at her. "Now, honey, is that any way for a sweet young wife like you to talk? The boys won't know that you're kidding."

She heard the challenge in his voice and knew he had her trapped. If she went against him now, she would break their bargain. She'd set herself a chore and intended to see it through for her own peace of mind.

"Don't worry about it." She turned and smiled at the men. "Come on in and try to enjoy the food."

The group filed past her. There were plenty of "thank you, ma'am's" and curious glances shot her way. It was apparent she had been the subject of gossip the night before. If she remembered right, Zeke couldn't keep a secret to save his soul.

The cowboys were a mixed bunch of sizes and ages, but they all had one common denominator. They were deeply tanned and looked tough as nails. One tall, blond, older cowboy stood apart from the rest. Zeke gave her a probing glance as he passed by.

Sarah smiled and held her hand out.

He scowled at her and brushed past without speaking.

Surprised by his sullen expression, she hastily withdrew her hand. It was plain to see he wasn't happy to see her.

"Go ahead and get started. There's more food in the kitchen if we run out."

Sarah was loading the dishwasher after breakfast when the screen door slammed as the last of the workers left the dining hall. At least she didn't have to worry about doing all these dishes by hand. Now all she had to do was find a cookbook and figure out what she could make for supper. Whatever she chose, it would have to be enormous because they ate like horses.

After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sat on a porch chair and sighed. It was going to be a difficult summer, and it had just begun. She wasn't sure she was up to the task of cooking for this mob, let alone defending her heart from Rafe's assault. The man had only married her for her family name. It was still a bitter pill to swallow.

He'd deny it to his last breath if she confronted him about it, she was sure of that. Rafe might desire her for other reasons, but marrying into the Maxwell Family didn't harm a man who had plans to turn his large working ranch into a dude ranch on the side. What he didn't know was that she'd walked away from her heritage years ago because there were too many strings attached. Just like there were too many strings attached to their marriage. There was no way she could be all Rafe expected her to be.

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