Cowboy Crazy(9)
“This here’s Charlotte. Found her broken down along the road and couldn’t leave her. I hope you don’t mind her staying the night until we figure out what to do with her car.”
“Of course I don’t mind! Poor dear. A shock to break down in the middle of nowhere, I’m sure. Come along to the kitchen. I bet you’re starving. Now just have a seat at the counter there and I’ll fix you a plate. How does a glass of sweet tea sound?”
“Fine, thank you.” Charlotte threw him a look as Momma bustled her into the kitchen and seated her on one of the high stools Hank had built himself. Knowing her round bottom was settled on wood he’d worked with his own hands shouldn’t give him this much pleasure.
“Charlotte, meet Maggie Dalton. I’m going to put your suitcase in one of the rooms.”
Momma flapped a hand as if he was an annoying bug and started plying Charlotte with questions.
On the way out of the room, Hank paused in the doorway, looking over the woman seated in his kitchen. Thighs tucked under the counter, spine straight and curly hair floating like a cloud above her shoulders.
He scuffed his knuckles along his jaw. He was in for a long night.
Chapter Two
Charlotte didn’t realize how hungry she was until she forked the first bite of chicken and gravy into her mouth. Mrs. Dalton watched her while she sipped tea from a Mason jar.
“This is amazing food,” Charlotte said.
“Thank you, dear. It’s one of my boys’ favorite meals.”
“And you have five boys.”
“Yes, I do. Wasn’t blessed with a daughter, but we hope to make up for that with five daughters-in-law.” She stressed the last words, and for some reason heat climbed Charlotte’s throat.
She wasn’t interested in any guy, let alone one who lived in the boondocks. She needed a little more…civilization. Or did she? Hank was pretty uncivilized and the heated awareness low in her belly said she liked him fine.
If the man riled her sensibilities, the ranch and the hominess of the big house gave her a feeling of calm. The dog running across the field to greet them, Hank walking her to the door. Maybe next time he’d plant a big hand low on her spine.
She refocused on her plate. By the time she’d finished a third of the heaping pile of food, she was bursting at the seams. She pushed back her plate and smiled at Mrs. Dalton. “Thank you. It was delicious.”
“Why, you can’t be full! My boys could eat double that amount.”
She gave a smile. “I’m sure working men require more food than a woman like me.”
Mrs. Dalton had shrewd blue eyes and Charlotte wasn’t fooled by her simple cotton top and skirt. She was as savvy as any Phoenix society mother wearing Prada. Charlotte had encountered a few of those in her lifetime, usually ladies looking to hook Charlotte up with their sons.
That’s how she’d met Stephen.
She rubbed her palms on her thighs, trying to wipe away the sudden dampness.
“What do you for a living, dear?”
“Right now, I’m between jobs. I’m looking for a town to settle in.”
Mrs. Dalton gave a hum. “Vixen has a corner market and a coffee shop. You might find work there.”
“Is there a cheap room to rent there?”
“Well, no. That’s a problem.”
“That and the fact that I don’t have a car that works right now.” She drew a deep breath and caught it—the masculine soap and water scent of her rescuer. She pivoted on the stool to see Hank crossing the kitchen.
He’d abandoned his hat, and his hair lay in thick dark waves against his skull. As her eyes drifted up to it, he lifted his long fingers and ran them through the mass, plowing little furrows.
Her breaths came faster. Being around a gorgeous cowboy like Hank was hard enough. She was thankful his brothers weren’t home.
“Mmm, is that chicken and potatoes I smell, Momma?”
“Yes it is. I’ll get your plate. Take your seat.”
Before he pulled out the stool next to Charlotte, he gave her a polite nod. Once he’d settled his denim-clad behind on the wood, he smiled at her. “I see you’ve tasted Momma’s down-home cooking.”
She picked up her fork and nudged a potato. “It was excellent and beats fast food along the interstate.”
“Oh dear. You do need some taking care of,” Momma clucked.
Charlotte bit off a smile. It was doubtful the food she’d just eaten was healthier than fast food. It was saturated with gravy and butter.
Mrs. Dalton placed a heaping dish in front of Hank. He gripped his fork tines down and attacked it like a hungry dog. Charlotte couldn’t keep from staring, but his mother just gave a maternal smile and went about washing up a few dishes.