Presley Ann let out a surprised, “Huh! So they let the housekeeper have the master suite, huh? Nice work.”
Biting her tongue, Lydia moved to Clayton’s room to inspect the job Presley Ann had done cleaning and dusting and demonstrated for her the proper way to clean a toilet.
Thursday had been like that as well, with Presley Ann asking one question after another, some more personal than she liked. She’d finally asked Presley Ann to mind her own business and worry about getting her work done.
Lydia decided that she would send her home at five every evening after discovering the hard way that Presley Ann was utterly useless in the kitchen. Wednesday evening’s entrée had to be thrown in the trash after it was discovered that she’d grated three of her acrylic fingernails into the ingredients. Washing dishes was bad for her manicure, she said, and the dishes she’d washed were left unclean, so Lydia gave up on that point. She couldn’t have any of them getting food poisoning, and she didn’t have time to supervise Presley Ann every second so she let her go home earlier than she had originally intended each day.
The last two days, Lydia had eaten lunch quickly and then rushed through that evening’s meal prep time while Presley Ann folded laundry.
Thursday night Lydia picked at the napkin in her lap as all the men ate supper. Chance and Clayton kept glancing at her, and the other men were quieter than they had been the night before. Lydia had been able to have supper on the dinner table, but it had been close both times. Tonight’s meal was done and the men seemed content, but she wasn’t happy with the result. The baked chicken wasn’t her best effort, and she thought that it showed.
Over his coffee cup and dessert, Chance softly said, “Baby, the meal was fantastic. I’m sorry you had another rough day.” He shifted his hold on the cup, and she felt his hand gently stroke her thigh. The gesture was comforting and brought the prickle of tears to her eyes.
She wanted them to see what a good job she could do with their home. They did seem pleased, but she knew today should have gone much better. She’d walked around the house after Presley Ann left to see if she could tell any difference from her pitiful efforts and was displeased to find that she couldn’t. Presley Ann had done nothing but waste her time.
Two days was long enough to get used to the job, and they were going to get some serious work done from this point forward or Presley Ann was out of there. It was a relief that Presley Ann would not be around during the weekend so Lydia could get caught up. Lydia gave a halfhearted smile thinking that it was her who actually got the weekend off.
“Miss Lydia, that was another delicious meal,” George Kunkel said, drawing her back to the present, as he put his napkin beside his plate with a contented sigh.
She smiled at the man, who had such kind eyes, and said, “Thank you, George. That’s very sweet of you to say.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. You’re gonna spoil us,” he replied. He appeared to be about Chance and Clayton’s age, and like several of the others Chance had pointed out the other night, he was a bachelor living in the older ranch house which was used for a bunkhouse now.
The men rose from their chairs and all took their plates and utensils into the kitchen and placed them in the large sink full of hot, soapy water she’d filled for that purpose right before supper.
“G’night, ma’am,” they all called as they headed to the back door.
She called out in response and then turned to Chance and Clayton, who were still seated at the table with her.
“I noticed that Kade Parker didn’t come for supper again tonight. I’m sorry my presence is causing trouble.”
“It’s not your presence that is causing trouble, but his,” Chance replied. They didn’t say anything else about Parker, but Lydia wondered if something else had happened concerning him. Indicating the departing men, he added, “They’ve really taken a liking to you, I think.”
Lydia smiled happily and her cheeks heated up. All of the men had been very complimentary of her cooking. She found that with the exception of the one bad apple, she liked them all very much.
“Let’s get the kitchen done and then I want to rub Lydi’s tired little feet.”
Lydia giggled as she rose from her chair. “They are anything but little, cowboy, and I’ve been running all day. You sure you want to get near my feet?”
“That’s just where I plan to start.” The look in Clayton’s eyes told her that he wanted to get near a whole lot more.
Chance chuckled and patted her butt as he followed them into the kitchen. “Baby, you have pretty, delicate little feet compared to ours.”