Read Online Trouble in Cowboy Boots by Desiree Holt - Free Book Online
Authors: Desiree Holt
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all the nerves in her pussy ignite and sent a low rush of heat through her body.
“Better get that griddle hot,” Amelia reminded her. “First shift will be here in five and you still have to scramble the eggs.”
Lordy! Would she ever be able to multitask in the kitchen? She’d thought it a miracle yesterday that she got through the day without burning anything or throwing food away. Wyatt’s generous offer to pick up barbecue last night had been a big help but no such luck today. Amelia had shown her how to bread chicken this morning before they started breakfast. She’d finish that after she cleaned up from the morning meal. But the work had put her a little behind.
“Here they come,” Amelia warned, as boots sounded on the back porch.
Shit! I’m not ready.
Apparently no one cared, because in they came.
She spooned pancake batter onto the griddle and emptied the beaten eggs into the heated frying pan.
“You producing another good breakfast today, Auntie Em?” Hardy asked as he led the way to the tables.
“You Auntie Em me once more,” she told him, “and I’ll turn you into a munchkin.”
“Ooh!” He widened his eyes and waved his hands. “I’m scared, guys. Real scared.”
Amelia flapped a dish towel at him. “Hardy Wolf, you shut up and sit down or you won’t get any breakfast at all.” She pulled the biscuits from the oven and plopped them into two baskets which she carried to the table, then flipped the pancakes while Emily worked on the eggs.
“Lookie!” Hardy broke open a biscuit. “Flaky again. Yee haw.”
“Just like you, Hardy,” Emily called. After four days she was feeling more confident with the men.
“What do we use now for target practice?” someone joked.
53
Desiree Holt
Emily banged her wooden mixing spoon so hard on the counter it nearly shattered and gritted her teeth. She didn’t have time for this bullshit. Even with Amelia’s help she was barely keeping her head above water. Who knew it took so many men to run a cattle ranch? Who knew she’d pick a ranch the size of the Lazy Aces that ran ten thousand head of cattle? She wondered if slopping beer at Chaps wouldn’t have been a better choice.
Breakfast was barely finished before she rolled up her sleeves and breaded the rest of the chicken the way Amelia had shown her. Holy shit, it took a lot of chicken to feed twenty men. She didn’t even count herself, unsure if she’d even have an appetite by the time she finished cooking. This afternoon she’d peel potatoes and Amelia had promised to slip over and make the gravy, thank god. Gravy! Where had she gotten the mistaken impression that on ranches all they ate were things that came out of cans. She could open cans with the best of them.
Or cooked on a grill. That was her only other skill. Who knew she’d have to make real food ?
By late afternoon she’d served lunch—this time she did open cans, large ones of chili—finished the prep work on the chicken and put the covered platters in the fridge, and taken out the veggies for dinner. Fixing a glass of iced tea, she carried it out to the back porch and sank gratefully into one of the rockers.
She hadn’t really taken time to look at the ranch, and had seen very little of it except for the kitchen and her bedroom. Now she watched as two men worked horses in the corral with a handful of calves. She’d have to ask Wyatt what that was all about. In the distance she could see cattle grazing in the pastures and half a dozen riders trotting slowly along the fences. At the open doors of the barn two men were loading hay into the bed of a dual cab pickup.
She rocked slowly as she sipped her tea, taking in the vast amount of land that stretched away from the house to a vanishing point on the horizon. So this was what 54
Trouble in Cowboy Boots
the west was all about—acres of land, cattle, horses, blue skies, oak trees and some others she didn’t recognize, and cowboys.
Cowboys who eat a
“Better get that griddle hot,” Amelia reminded her. “First shift will be here in five and you still have to scramble the eggs.”
Lordy! Would she ever be able to multitask in the kitchen? She’d thought it a miracle yesterday that she got through the day without burning anything or throwing food away. Wyatt’s generous offer to pick up barbecue last night had been a big help but no such luck today. Amelia had shown her how to bread chicken this morning before they started breakfast. She’d finish that after she cleaned up from the morning meal. But the work had put her a little behind.
“Here they come,” Amelia warned, as boots sounded on the back porch.
Shit! I’m not ready.
Apparently no one cared, because in they came.
She spooned pancake batter onto the griddle and emptied the beaten eggs into the heated frying pan.
“You producing another good breakfast today, Auntie Em?” Hardy asked as he led the way to the tables.
“You Auntie Em me once more,” she told him, “and I’ll turn you into a munchkin.”
“Ooh!” He widened his eyes and waved his hands. “I’m scared, guys. Real scared.”
Amelia flapped a dish towel at him. “Hardy Wolf, you shut up and sit down or you won’t get any breakfast at all.” She pulled the biscuits from the oven and plopped them into two baskets which she carried to the table, then flipped the pancakes while Emily worked on the eggs.
“Lookie!” Hardy broke open a biscuit. “Flaky again. Yee haw.”
“Just like you, Hardy,” Emily called. After four days she was feeling more confident with the men.
“What do we use now for target practice?” someone joked.
53
Desiree Holt
Emily banged her wooden mixing spoon so hard on the counter it nearly shattered and gritted her teeth. She didn’t have time for this bullshit. Even with Amelia’s help she was barely keeping her head above water. Who knew it took so many men to run a cattle ranch? Who knew she’d pick a ranch the size of the Lazy Aces that ran ten thousand head of cattle? She wondered if slopping beer at Chaps wouldn’t have been a better choice.
Breakfast was barely finished before she rolled up her sleeves and breaded the rest of the chicken the way Amelia had shown her. Holy shit, it took a lot of chicken to feed twenty men. She didn’t even count herself, unsure if she’d even have an appetite by the time she finished cooking. This afternoon she’d peel potatoes and Amelia had promised to slip over and make the gravy, thank god. Gravy! Where had she gotten the mistaken impression that on ranches all they ate were things that came out of cans. She could open cans with the best of them.
Or cooked on a grill. That was her only other skill. Who knew she’d have to make real food ?
By late afternoon she’d served lunch—this time she did open cans, large ones of chili—finished the prep work on the chicken and put the covered platters in the fridge, and taken out the veggies for dinner. Fixing a glass of iced tea, she carried it out to the back porch and sank gratefully into one of the rockers.
She hadn’t really taken time to look at the ranch, and had seen very little of it except for the kitchen and her bedroom. Now she watched as two men worked horses in the corral with a handful of calves. She’d have to ask Wyatt what that was all about. In the distance she could see cattle grazing in the pastures and half a dozen riders trotting slowly along the fences. At the open doors of the barn two men were loading hay into the bed of a dual cab pickup.
She rocked slowly as she sipped her tea, taking in the vast amount of land that stretched away from the house to a vanishing point on the horizon. So this was what 54
Trouble in Cowboy Boots
the west was all about—acres of land, cattle, horses, blue skies, oak trees and some others she didn’t recognize, and cowboys.
Cowboys who eat a
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