Page 23 of Wyoming Tough

“It was me—” Mavie laughed “—but my helper here came up with most of the recipes.” She indicated Morie. “She’s Morie,” she added. “I’m Mavis, but everyone calls me Mavie.”

“I’m happy to meet you,” he said. “Both of you.” But when he looked at Morie his eyebrows lifted. “Like working here, do you?” he asked her.

“Oh, yes, very much,” she replied.

He pursed his lips. “Can I speak with you for a minute?” he added. “I want to ask you something about that little sausage canapé. For my housekeeper,” he said.

“Sure,” she replied.

He walked to the back door, held it open and let her go out before him. She worried that it might make Mavie suspicious, but she had to make him understand. She explained what she was doing.

“What the devil are you up to?” he asked seriously. “Your dad would have a fit if he knew you were working for wages on a ranch!”

“You can’t tell him,” she replied firmly. “I’m going to show him that I can make it on my own. He doesn’t have to like it. But if you tell him where I am, he’ll come up here and make trouble. He’ll be telling the boss what I can and can’t be expected to do and it will ruin everything. You know how he is.”

“I guess I do.” He frowned. “How did you get a job way up here?”

“A friend of a friend told me they were hiring. And what are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

“I met Cane during a trial. He was a friend of the plaintiff, a land case I heard in superior court in Texas. We had lunch and became friends. Good heavens, I had no idea I’d come to his party and find my niece cooking for it!”

She laughed. “Well, somebody had to. Mavie had no clue about canapés and Mom makes the best I ever tasted. So does Aunt Edie and your housekeeper.”

“If your dad ever finds out about this…”

“He won’t. And if he ever does, I’ll defend you,” she promised confidently.

He shook his head. “You always were a handful, even when you were little.”

“And you always loved me anyway, Uncle Danny.”

“Yes, I did.” He hugged her warmly. “Okay, I guess you know what you’re doing. I won’t tell Kingston. But there will be a dustup when the truth comes out. You’ll have to protect me,” he added with a grin.

“You know I will. Thanks.”

“What are you doing out here instead of working, Miss Brannt?” Gelly’s shrill, angry voice came from the doorway. “You are not to have private conversations with my guests, you little gold digger!”

Danny moved into the light. The woman’s attitude toward his niece pricked his temper. He’d already formed an opinion of Gelly Bruner, and it wasn’t a good one. “I’m not your guest,” he pointed out coldly. “I came to see the Kirks.”

She flushed and looked uncertain.

“Why don’t you go back to the party and stop trying to micromanage your boyfriend’s staff?” he drawled. “Perhaps I should have a word with him….”

“Sorry,” Gelly said stiffly and managed a cool smile. “Excuse me, please.”

She almost ran off.

Morie was stifling laughter. Her uncle could be as intimidating as her father ever was, even if he was usually the easygoing one of the brothers.

Mavie had stepped over to the doorway after Gelly had raced away. She’d obviously heard every word of the exchange with Gelly. Now her eyes were dancing. “Want to stay? I’ll cook for you anytime,” she added.

He laughed. “Sorry. I have my own business to take care of. The canapés were really delicious. And thanks for the recipe,” he told Morie. “I hope I’ll see you again one day.”

“Same here,” she replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “My pleasure.” He gave her a last wave before he went back into the family room.

“Who is he?” Mavie asked her.

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