Page 10 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“It’s settled, then,” Ethan says. “She can cook.”

Sammy, the ranch manager, comes in. I need no introduction to recognize him. He’s as scrawny as Darla described him—though I did catch the affection she has for this kind of man. Sammy may be of retirement age, but he is as spry as Darla and just as hell-bent on living to a hundred.

“What the hell are you three doin’?” he barks at the Avery brothers and Mitch.

“Waiting for breakfast, obviously,” Ethan retorts, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Help the girl out and put those plates on the table,” Sammy says. “Mitch, get the cutlery out of the drawer. Y’all hired a cook, not a servant. Come on!”

I suppress a giggle, flustered and flattered by the old man’s rough chivalry. He comes over and offers me his hand. “I’m Sammy Winston, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, sir, and thank you for the support. It’s greatly appreciated,” I reply, surprised by the firmness of his handshake. He could easily break every bone in my hand if he wanted to.

“Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, darlin’,” he says. “These boys still need a whippin’ once in a while. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Colton chuckles as he helps Ethan and Mitch with setting the giant, cherrywood breakfast table. “Look at him, treating us like we’re the same sixteen-year-olds he used to kick in the ass whenever our paths crossed.”

“Pop and Ma are probably laughing up in heaven,” Ethan adds with a subtle smile. I note the hint of sadness in his voice. “Here, Sammy,” he says, pointing at the table, “are you happy?”

I let the men talk while I prep and carry the platters to the breakfast table one at a time, followed by the fresh fruit bowls and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. As soon as I’m done, I get to cleaning my workstation and rinsing the pots and pans before I load them in the dishwasher.

Kyle, Jason, and Darla come in, their eyes sparkling with excitement upon being greeted with the wonderful smells of a freshly cooked breakfast.

“Morning,” Darla says to me, then stops by the counter with an inquisitive look. “How’d you fare?”

“So far, so good.” I give her a soft smile. “Let’s hope they like the food.”

“It looks great,” she says with an appreciative nod, sadness enveloping her face. “It’s a shame I can barely taste any of it.”

Kyle and Jason step to her side, both flashing their broadest, friendliest smiles. Kyle is in his early twenties, skinny, with shaggy brown hair and wide eyes. Jason is thirtyish, chunky, and dark-haired, with equally big, equally warm eyes.

“I’m Kyle, ma’am.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say, shaking their slightly trembling hands. “I look forward to working with you all.”

Darla rolls her eyes. “Wait until they start dragging all that mud from the pasture in on their boots. You’re not gonna love them then.”

They join the others at the table, and I notice that Ethan moved my coffee to the edge of the counter island. I give him a gracious nod and proceed to take the longest, most heartfelt sip. It tastes fantastic, with hints of berries and burnt wood. This is the fancy kind of coffee, not the inky crap I had in prison.

“What the hell are you doing over there?” Sammy asks me.

I’m somewhat confused. “Well, I finished cooking breakfast. Do you need me to do anything else?”

“Yeah, join us,” Colton replies, his eyes fixed on me, which makes my heart do flip-flops.

“Oh.”

“We look after our own, remember?” Colton says. “You cooked, and now—”

“You eat,” Mitch adds, already loading a plate for me.

Ethan pulls the last of the chairs out. “Sammy nailed it. You’re not a servant, you’re part of the crew.”

“And you eat with us,” Darla says.

I give a grateful smile and sit down to eat. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be treated like a human being.

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