house was a roof to keep the snow off and walls to cut the wind that rattled down off the Rockies to drive cold stakes through a man's bones. Later, when he'd built his cattle empire here in this valley, he'd build a fine house. One that people would ride miles to see and admire.
And, he told himself with another glance around the room, he'd damn well hire a woman who would take better care of the place than Juana did. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't the older woman's fault. He'd hired her to cook, not clean. And Lord knew, just the cooking for all the men on this place was enough to tire out a much younger woman than she.
While his thoughts were still flying through his mind, Hannah deliberately turned her back on the devastation of the room and faced him. "I came to see if you've changed your mind about offering me a job." Her gaze slid pointedly across the room again. "And it seems that you need more help than you're willing to admit to."
Mac stiffened slightly because he knew what she said was true and didn't want to acknowledge it, even to himself.
"Now, how did you know I'd change my mind?" he asked.
"You have, then?" Her smile brightened considerably, something he wouldn't have thought possible. "Isn't that wonderful?"
"Wonderful?" He reached up and shoved both hands through his hair, squeezing his scalp in a futile attempt to ease the headache pounding inside his skull. "I doubt Juana thinks so." A puny weight settled on his left boot. Jonas looked down and scowled at the cat, which looked to be making itself at home.
"Oh? Is she sick?"
He looked back up at her, his gaze narrowed thoughtfully. The concern in her eyes looked genuine, but she didn't sound surprised that Juana wouldn't be able to do her job. "No," he said, remembering that short-lived scream the night before.
He and Elias had raced outside to find Juana sitting in the dirt, her right foot pulled up into her lap. In the dark, she'd stepped into a gopher hole and twisted her ankle so badly it was swelling to twice its size as they stood there and watched.
After wrapping her injured ankle, Jonas had spent most of the rest of the night delivering Juana to her sister's house, some ten miles away. And there she would stay until she healed enough to come back to work. Which was fine for Juana, but left him up a creek without a boat.
Not only did he have roundup starting in a couple of weeks, but there were twelve hardworking men on his ranch, counting himself and Elias, who would damn well starve to death if forced to eat their own cooking.
Damn, Juana had picked a hell of a time to twist an ankle. And she'd done such a fine job of it, he doubted she'd be in shape in time for roundup.
Every year, the neighboring ranchers took turns hosting the event. Since their spreads were all relatively small yet, it made more sense to work together and complete the job in less time. And, though everyone brought food, it was expected that the host rancher would take care of most of the cooking for the crowd that always showed up.
God knew Juana wouldn't know a broom if it swatted her on the behind, and she'd never find work in a fancy restaurant, but at least her food was plentiful and edible.
He stared at Hannah and didn't know whether she was a gift or a curse. It seemed an odd coincidence that she should turn up in his life right when she was most needed, but then, who was he to say? Stranger things had happened, he guessed. And if she could cook, she was a welcome help at a desperate hour. As long as she was willing to forget all about any talk of marriage and whatnot, he figured they could get along well enough.
If she really could cook.
"Jonas?" Hannah asked, her tone letting him know it wasn't the first time she'd called his name.
"Huh?" He gave his head a shake, hoping to dislodge some of the cobwebs mustying up his brain. It not only didn't work, it quickened the throbbing ache behind his eyes. He had a feeling that nothing short of
And, he told himself with another glance around the room, he'd damn well hire a woman who would take better care of the place than Juana did. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't the older woman's fault. He'd hired her to cook, not clean. And Lord knew, just the cooking for all the men on this place was enough to tire out a much younger woman than she.
While his thoughts were still flying through his mind, Hannah deliberately turned her back on the devastation of the room and faced him. "I came to see if you've changed your mind about offering me a job." Her gaze slid pointedly across the room again. "And it seems that you need more help than you're willing to admit to."
Mac stiffened slightly because he knew what she said was true and didn't want to acknowledge it, even to himself.
"Now, how did you know I'd change my mind?" he asked.
"You have, then?" Her smile brightened considerably, something he wouldn't have thought possible. "Isn't that wonderful?"
"Wonderful?" He reached up and shoved both hands through his hair, squeezing his scalp in a futile attempt to ease the headache pounding inside his skull. "I doubt Juana thinks so." A puny weight settled on his left boot. Jonas looked down and scowled at the cat, which looked to be making itself at home.
"Oh? Is she sick?"
He looked back up at her, his gaze narrowed thoughtfully. The concern in her eyes looked genuine, but she didn't sound surprised that Juana wouldn't be able to do her job. "No," he said, remembering that short-lived scream the night before.
He and Elias had raced outside to find Juana sitting in the dirt, her right foot pulled up into her lap. In the dark, she'd stepped into a gopher hole and twisted her ankle so badly it was swelling to twice its size as they stood there and watched.
After wrapping her injured ankle, Jonas had spent most of the rest of the night delivering Juana to her sister's house, some ten miles away. And there she would stay until she healed enough to come back to work. Which was fine for Juana, but left him up a creek without a boat.
Not only did he have roundup starting in a couple of weeks, but there were twelve hardworking men on his ranch, counting himself and Elias, who would damn well starve to death if forced to eat their own cooking.
Damn, Juana had picked a hell of a time to twist an ankle. And she'd done such a fine job of it, he doubted she'd be in shape in time for roundup.
Every year, the neighboring ranchers took turns hosting the event. Since their spreads were all relatively small yet, it made more sense to work together and complete the job in less time. And, though everyone brought food, it was expected that the host rancher would take care of most of the cooking for the crowd that always showed up.
God knew Juana wouldn't know a broom if it swatted her on the behind, and she'd never find work in a fancy restaurant, but at least her food was plentiful and edible.
He stared at Hannah and didn't know whether she was a gift or a curse. It seemed an odd coincidence that she should turn up in his life right when she was most needed, but then, who was he to say? Stranger things had happened, he guessed. And if she could cook, she was a welcome help at a desperate hour. As long as she was willing to forget all about any talk of marriage and whatnot, he figured they could get along well enough.
If she really could cook.
"Jonas?" Hannah asked, her tone letting him know it wasn't the first time she'd called his name.
"Huh?" He gave his head a shake, hoping to dislodge some of the cobwebs mustying up his brain. It not only didn't work, it quickened the throbbing ache behind his eyes. He had a feeling that nothing short of
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