“I hated that speed-dating event, right up until the final guy sat down at my table,” Holly said, and went forward, right up until her father knocked on the door. “I was so stressed about whether to tell Bubba the truth or to just disappear. It seemed like fate intervened for me and said that I should forget all about him. Besides, it doesn’t take a genius to know what would happen if I had brought home a ranch hand for you to meet, and his name wasBubba…
“Come on now. Give us a little credit. We wouldn’t have pitched him out if he ate with the wrong fork,” Noreen said.
“But be honest. Do you want me to move in with someone like Bubba?”
Noreen shook her head. “No, I would not, but it wouldn’t be because of his status. I would question it because you would get bored with him.”
“Because he’s beneath me?” Holly asked.
“Social standing isn’t the issue. He met you as Lula Ann. How is he going to feel when he finds out that you are Holly McLean? That’s like trying to build a house with no foundation.”
“Mama, I really, really like him, more than anyone I’ve ever dated,” Holly admitted.
“Then give him a call and a chance to at least tell you to get lost,” Noreen advised. “Has he tried to get in touch with you?”
Holly nodded. “He’s texted once a day, but I haven’t answered. I want to, but, Mama, I don’t know much about him, and what do I say? What if he’s seen me on social media or in the newspapers, and he’s only being nice to me for what he can get?”
“You’ll never know if you don’t talk to him. Speaking of social media, all your generation is on TikTok, Snap-something-or-other, and all those other apps these days. Go searching for him. You’ll figure out real quick if he’s a good one.”
“He did ask me if we could continue seeing each other after I came back to work.”
“If you don’t talk to him, then you’ll never know what might have been when you told him the truth. I can’t believe you have fallen for a guy named Bubba Jones, or that Darlene talked you into using Lula Ann Smith for your alter ego.” Noreen shook her head.
“Me, either, but I liked being her,” Holly admitted. “She had so much fun.”
“Then answer his texts or call him, but do not tell him that you are Holly McLean by text or on the phone. Meet him somewhere nice,” Noreen suggested.
“Or at the Hole in the Wall burger joint where we had our first date?”
“No, ma’am. Let him get to know Holly to see if he likes her as well as he did Lula Ann,” Noreen answered. “It could be one of thoseout of sight, out of mindthings, and he’s moved on to another woman.”
“Or one of thoseabsence makes the heart grow fonderthings,” Holly muttered.
Miles was not in the mood to interview another cook after turning down five in the last ten days, but Elijah had one lined up that morning. The bunkhouse was full now, and four guys were traveling back and forth from nearby towns. Most of them had worked for the previous owner and knew the place, so that was a plus, but all of them were used to having a decent lunch every single day rather than sandwiches and chips. The ones who lived in the bunkhouse were tired of cold cereal for breakfast and what little Elijah could rustle up for supper.
The gray-haired lady came into the office and sat down on the other side of Miles’s desk. “As you know from my resume, I have worked as the cook on ranches since I was in my twenties. I’m a widow with no children and have my own travel trailer that I bring with me.”
Miles looked over the resume in front of him and liked what he read. “Why did you leave the past five that you worked on, Mrs. Watson?”
“Call me Stella. Mrs. Watson was my mother-in-law, and she never liked me.”
“Okay, then, Stella.” He nodded and asked the question again.
She held up a finger. “First one sold to new folks, and the wife said she could take on the cooking job.” Another finger went up. “Next, the owner’s father couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” Third and fourth fingers. “The owners wouldn’t give me a budget for food that I thought was fair, so I quit.” Then her thumb popped up. “The owner died at the last one, and the government bought his place to use as a wildlife refuge.”
Miles’s thoughts raced back to the food that Lula Ann put on the table and the fried chicken she brought to the picnic. If she didn’t already have an important position, and if he could ever locate her, he would offer her the job. He wished that he’d asked a few more questions. Like the name of the company thatshe worked for, and if it was in Houston or up in the Texas Panhandle since she had mentioned that place in one of their conversations.
“Well?” Stella asked with a little edge to her tone. “Am I wasting my time and yours?”
“I’m sorry,” Miles apologized. “My mind was somewhere else. So, you do your own shopping?”
“Yes, I do, and I stay within whatever budget you give me. How many men will I be cooking for and how many meals?”
“Eight of us for breakfast and supper, twelve for dinner,” he said. “We have seven living here all the time, and that includes Elijah, the ranch foreman. Four others come and go.”
“I like those numbers,” Stella said. “How ’bout I go out to the bunkhouse and make dinner out of whatever I can find? If the guys like it when they come in at noon, then I’ll make supper. This evening we’ll talk again over a couple of beers.”
“That would be a pretty good test,” Miles said, “but it’s only three hours until noon.”
