Code Name: Cowboy Read online

  She hadn’t used her real name, and although she felt bad about lying, she was more afraid of using her real name. It was imperative that she and Rebecca not be found by people in Dallas, imperative they not be found until Alicia had a plan.

  She sent a small prayer upward. Let us be safe here...let us be safe at least for a little while.

  It took them nearly two hours to dust the furniture and mop the hardwood floors with vinegar and water. Despite the outside chill, Alicia opened the windows to allow in the crisp, fresh-scented air.

  By the time they carried their things in from the car, the rooms had begun to take on a more personal aura. Alicia’s few toiletries lined the top of the dresser, the expensive cologne and face cream a reminder of the life she’d left behind. A gilded frame held a snapshot of Robert, a smiling two-year-old Rebecca in his arms.

  Rebecca’s room had taken on the distinct personality of the new occupant. Three favorite stuffed animals occupied a place of honor in the center of the bed. A small box of dolls and toys was against the wall beneath the window, and her favorite pastel-colored blanket draped across the plain brown corded spread, adding a soft rainbow of girlish colors.

  “Now will you push me on the swing that’s in the backyard?” Rebecca asked.

  Alicia hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea or not. Cameron had gone outside as soon as Alicia had retrieved the cleaning supplies from the kitchen pantry.

  Although it was obvious that Rebecca had been the trump card that had landed Alicia the job, Alicia had a feeling Cameron preferred children to be neither seen nor heard. She didn’t want to jinx this opportunity before they took advantage of it. She needed to work long enough to save up some money, in case things with Broderick, her father-in-law, came to a crisis.

  “Okay,” she finally relented. It was probably a good idea to let Rebecca spend some time outside and work off her energy so she would play quietly this evening. Besides, after the last couple of weeks cooped up in the car, Alicia knew her daughter yearned for physical activity.

  Alicia zipped Rebecca’s jacket, then threw on her own and together mother and daughter headed downstairs. As they walked, Alicia noticed the carved oak bannister and the steps that were dull with old wax. All that was needed to turn the wide staircase into a showpiece was a little elbow grease.

  In fact, as they passed through the living room on their way to the front door, she realized much of what had looked so disheartening at first glance, was really just the need for order and cleanliness. Beneath the clutter the wood floors themselves were in good shape. The stone fireplace wasn’t chipped or broken. Although the walls needed a little patchwork, a coat of paint would do wonders to improve the appearance.

  Alicia wasn’t afraid of hard work. She’d spent most of her adolescence taking care of herself. She’d moved out of her parents home at eighteen and had worked as a waitress in a busy truck stop, enduring long hours and backbreaking work. Then she’d met Robert and for a little while she’d felt like Cinderella, saved from a life of toil by the handsome prince. And then the prince had died, and Alicia had been left to deal with his wicked father and mother.

  “Come on, Mommy,” Rebecca exclaimed impatiently as she tugged Alicia through the front door.

  “Race you to the swing,” Alicia said.

  Rebecca squealed in delight and took off around the side of the house. Alicia followed right behind, laughing as her daughter peered back at her, blue eyes wide with merriment.

  As they rounded the edge of the house into the back, both mother and daughter stopped short. “Oh, Mommy, look at the horse,” Rebecca said.

  Cameron stood in the center of the large corral, a long rope tied to the reddish-brown horse. Alicia wasn’t sure who exactly was in control as man and beast faced each other.

  The horse’s back legs skittered sideways, then she pawed the ground and snorted angrily. Alicia caught her breath as the horse reared up on hind legs, front hooves slashing the air menacingly.

  Cameron’s back and arm muscles corded with the effort to hang on to the tether, his features set in grim determination. The horse dropped back to all fours, then shook her head and attempted to back up from Cameron.

  “Isn’t she pretty?” Rebecca exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Alicia replied, but it wasn’t the horse that held her attention, it was the man.

  She couldn’t help but notice how his jeans cupped tight around his buttocks and molded to his powerful thighs. His blue flannel shirt strained across broad shoulders. A black hat was pulled down far enough to cast shadows across his eyes...eyes that appeared to be made up solely of dark shadows.

  Just beneath the clippety clop of the hooves against the hard ground, Alicia could hear his voice. Although she couldn’t make out the words, she knew he was gentling the skittish horse. His tone was deep and smooth, like a hot toddy on a wintry night, and it sent a resulting warmth through Alicia.

  Oh, how she wished she had strong arms to hold her, a deep, rich voice to soothe her and tell her everything was going to be all right. How she wished she wasn’t so alone in the mess that her life had become.

  “Come on, Mommy. Let’s swing.” Rebecca grabbed Alicia’s hand and tugged her toward an old tire swing that dangled from a thick branch of a huge tree.

  “Wait,” Alicia instructed, wanting to inspect the condition of the branch, the rope and the tire to ensure Rebecca’s safety. It took her only a moment to confirm that the branch was strong, the rope unfrayed and the tire good enough to hold Rebecca.

  She helped her daughter into the swing and as she pushed Rebecca she found her gaze returning again and again to the man in the corral.

  Cameron Gallagher. Darkly handsome. Blatantly sexy. Her new boss. She had a feeling he would be a hard taskmaster. That was okay with her. The harder she worked, the less time she’d have to think about the monsters that chased her. Real monsters who seemed to be omnipotent. She shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her neck.

  Surely they wouldn’t find her here. Montana was miles away from Texas. Surely she and Rebecca were safe, at least for a little while. Nobody would expect to find Alicia Randall working as a housekeeper on a ramshackle ranch in Montana.

  Again her gaze went to Cameron, and she felt a renewed swirl of heat in the pit of her stomach. She recognized it for what it was...instant attraction, a strange combustible reaction. She’d felt it the moment she’d seen him.

  It didn’t mean anything, and the last thing she needed in her life right now was any kind of a relationship with anyone. She had too many secrets, too much to lose if she divulged those secrets.

  She tore her gaze away from her new employer. Sexy. Attractive. And definitely off-limits. She’d do her work, save her money and hope to hell Broderick and his wife didn’t find her here until she had come up with a plan to somehow defeat him.

  Chapter 2

  Cameron’s concentration faltered the moment Alice and her daughter rounded the side of the house. Although he continued to work with the horse, his heart was no longer in the job.

  He knew Alice Burwell and her daughter being here was a mistake. He didn’t like the sound of their laughter as mother pushed daughter on the stupid swing he’d meant to take down months ago.

  He didn’t like the way Alice’s blue eyes reminded him so vividly of Ginny’s. Ginny, who’d betrayed him, made a mockery of their love.

  Cameron expelled a grunt of disgust. Two years and still anger coursed through him when the memories broke through the wall he tried to keep erected against them.

  Knowing it was useless to work the horse any longer, he took the rope from her and allowed her free rein in the corral. She pranced like a show horse, as if proud that she’d won this particular battle of spirit.

  As Cameron stepped out of the corral, he saw Burt Winston approaching from the stables. Cameron had hired Burt and a handful of other men a month before. He intended to work the men through the winter mending fencing, salvaging what could be saved
of the dilapidated outbuildings. Come spring they would all be too busy with the livestock Cameron intended to buy, but winter was time for repairs.

  “Hey, boss, we need a bunch of supplies in order to fix the fences in the west pasture. There’s not much that can be salvaged of the old fencing.”

  Cameron nodded. “Place an order with Johnny down at Hopkins Yard. He’ll bill it to me and have it delivered. I’d like that fence mended before the first snow.”

  Burt frowned and raised his gaze to the clear blue sky overhead. “Don’t know if that’s possible or not. Doesn’t look or feel like snow, but my bones tell me the white stuff is right around the corner.”

  “I hope your bones are lying because we’ve still got a lot to get done around here,” Cameron said.

  Burt eyed Alice and Rebecca curiously. “Visitors?”

  “New housekeeper,” Cameron replied. “Alice Burwell.”

  “Burwell. Don’t believe I know them.” Burt prided himself on knowing every family in a hundred-and-fifty mile radius of Mustang.

  “They aren’t from around here.” Cameron frowned. The lady had told him they were from back east, but he knew a Texas accent when he heard one, and Alice Burwell was definitely a Texas native.

  He deepened his frown. He didn’t care if the lady was from Venus as long as she could bring order and hot meals to his home. “Get that material ordered today,” he said to Burt.

  “Will do,” Burt replied and with a tip of his hat. He turned and walked back toward the stables where Cameron knew he’d make the call from the phone on the wall outside the horse stalls.

  Cameron had a total of six men working for him and living in the bunkhouse, a wooden, one-story structure in the distance. He hoped he’d need to hire a half dozen more come spring. Sooner or later he wanted his ranch not only to be a comfortable home, but also a thriving business.

  Time. It would take time. It had taken him ten years working as a bounty hunter to finally get together the money to buy this place. The money he’d inherited upon the death of his parents would help him build his dream ranch.

  His inheritance money had been unavailable for some time as the trustee and his sister’s first husband had stolen it. The money had since been returned, and justice had prevailed.

  His parents would have been proud of his choice to leave behind the bounty hunting business and instead focus on ranching for a living. They’d worried about him. They’d been afraid he’d lose his life as a bounty hunter. But their worry was for naught. Cameron had been good, too good to be taken down. Unfortunately, nobody had warned him about losing his soul.

  He finished chores, checked the horses in the stable and locked up for the night, then headed for the house. The swing in the yard was empty and swayed listlessly in the evening breeze.

  He thought of the little girl who now occupied his home...a little girl with corn-silk hair and a sadness in her eyes that somehow had crawled into his heart.

  It had been the kid that had made him relent and give Alice the job...even though she looked about as capable of doing heavy housework as he was of performing ballet.

  The moment he entered the house, their presence was instantly apparent. The scent of tangy tomato sauce wafted from the kitchen and soft, feminine voices filled up what had always been a comfortable silence.

  His stomach growled with hunger pangs. It had been months since he’d had a good, home-cooked meal. Most nights he grabbed a sandwich or zapped a microwave dinner or made the ten-minute drive into town to eat at the café.

  He walked into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Alice stood at the stove, stirring a pot of bubbling spaghetti sauce. Rebecca sat at the table, a book opened in front of her. They both froze at the sight of him. He said nothing although he was oddly irritated by the skittish look in Alice’s eyes.

  “I know you said I didn’t have to start work until morning, but it seemed silly just to sit up in the bedroom when I could be cleaning down here and cooking something for dinner.”

  She turned to her daughter, who stared at Cameron as if she wasn’t sure if she should smile...or run. “Rebecca, you go on up to your room now so Mr. Gallagher can eat his dinner in peace.” Rebecca closed her book and stood obediently.

  “No sense sending her off to her room,” Cameron said grudgingly. “Have you two eaten?”

  Alice hesitated, then shook her head. “I figured we’d eat after you’re finished.” She felt her cheeks pinken with a blush. “It’s usually improper for the help to eat with the employer.”

  Cameron swept his hat off and hung it on a rack by the backdoor. “This is Montana, Alice. You’ll discover very quickly that people out here don’t pay much attention to the rules of proper society.” He moved over to the sink to wash his hands. “And you’ll discover even quicker that I am one of the worst culprits of all when it comes to breaking rules.”

  He washed his hands and dried them, then sat down at the table next to the little girl. “We’ll eat together, and for the record, my name is Cameron, not Mr. Gallagher. Mr. Gallagher was my father, and he’s dead.”

  He jumped as Rebecca touched his hand. “Your daddy is dead, too? So is mine.” Something deep inside Cameron responded to the aching pain in the little girl’s eyes. For a split second, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until that pain dissipated.

  Before he could do anything, Rebecca smiled. “Maybe your daddy and my daddy are friends in Heaven. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “Rebecca, put your book away and set the table for me, please.” Alice offered Cameron a smile of apology.

  He said nothing, afraid he wouldn’t be able to speak around the lump in his throat.

  Odd, that a child’s innocent words had touched on a hurt Cameron hadn’t even been aware existed. Somehow in the multitude of losses he’d suffered in a short amount of time, he’d shoved aside any grieving for his parents.

  Rebecca’s words suddenly made him yearn for his father’s deep voice, the touch of his dry, work-worn hands. He could remember the scent of his mother, a fragrance of fresh-baked bread and lilac talcum powder.

  They had died in a plane crash, long before Cameron had been willing to tell them goodbye. He looked at Rebecca, wondering how her father had died, then instantly shoved the curiosity away. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to care.

  Within minutes the meal was on the table. Cameron helped himself to a heaping portion of the spaghetti and meatballs. Alice helped Rebecca fill her plate, then her own.

  As they ate, the only sound in the kitchen was the rhythmic tick of the clock above the stove and the dull thud of Rebecca’s foot kicking the wooden pedestal of the table.

  Cameron felt no need to fill the awkward silence. He’d been alone for too long. Silence had become his friend. As he ate, he found his gaze focusing again and again on the woman across the table from him.

  She wasn’t exactly pretty. She looked tired, almost haggard. He could have given her a better haircut with his sheep shears, and again he noticed the color of her hair was all wrong for her skin tones.

  The cashmere sweater she wore was splattered with tomato sauce, but the blue color emphasized the vivid hue of her eyes. Her lashes were long, accentuated with a light touch of mascara.

  When she caught him looking at her, she offered him a tentative smile. The gesture transformed plain into pretty and a swirl of heat unfurled in Cameron’s stomach.

  Damn. He’d been too long alone, too long without a woman. How else to explain the effect of a simple smile on his equilibrium?

  Scowling, he looked down at his plate. Hiring Alice was a mistake. Having her and her daughter living in his home was a bigger mistake. But it was difficult to consider firing her as he ate the best spaghetti dinner he’d ever had.

  As he finished eating, he was aware of Rebecca’s gaze on him. She studied him with the unselfconsciousness of youth, as if trying to decide if she was going to like him or not. “That was a big horse
in the corral.” She finally spoke.

  “Her name is Mischief.”

  Rebecca giggled. “That’s what my mommy calls me sometimes. Miss Mischief.”

  “Rebecca, stop kicking the table and finish eating,” Alice said.

  Rebecca did as she was told. The rhythmic thud halted as she scooped a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. One errant noodle latched onto her chin. “Cowboys love their horses,” she said, the noodle dancing with each word, then finally falling back to her plate. “Do you love Mischief?”

  “Rebecca, let Mr. Gal...Cameron eat his dinner.” Alice smiled at him apologetically. Again that smile of hers carried a punch and filled him with irritation.

  He finished eating and shoved back from the table, eager to escape Alice Burwell and her winsome smile. “I’ll be in the office next to the living room if you need anything.”

  The office had originally been meant to be a formal dining area, but Cameron had taken over the space as an office/den. It was the first room of the house he’d completely redone. He’d painted the walls, installed floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a rich oak desk where he worked most nights on the ranch books.

  He settled in at his desk and leaned back, trying to block out the sounds coming from the kitchen. Feminine sounds. Family sounds. They reminded him of old dreams long abandoned. He hated them.

  He worked long after the noises from the kitchen had stopped and the house had grown dark and silent. It was after eleven when he finally closed the books and left the office, eager for a hot shower and the comfort of his king-size mattress.

  In the bathroom he found evidence of his new housemates. The scent of strawberry bubble bath greeted him. A bottle of the stuff sat on the edge of the tub, contained in a decanter shaped like a smiling, friendly spotted dog.