"Are you first cousins?"

"Yep. His dad and my mom were brother and sister. We grew up here together-well, almost together. He's a few years older than I am."

"Zeke-is that short for Ezekiel, or something?" It was kind of an unusual name, but somehow very fitting for the area, and for the man himself.

"Zeke's a nickname. His real name is A.Z. Just the initials, they don't stand for anything. But on his first day of school the teacher called him A.Z. and some of the other kids thought she was saying 'Hey, Zeke.' They called him Zeke and it stuck. He's been Zeke ever since." Kat shifted on her stool. "I don't know what Aunt Helen was thinking when she named him. It was some family name on her side-a great uncle, I think. Maybe her grandfather, or her mother's first cousin's G.o.dfather. You know how it goes with families." her mother's first cousin's G.o.dfather. You know how it goes with families."

"Uh, yeah," Carlin muttered wryly, thinking of her own name.

Kat slanted a knowing glance at her, a look that carried more impact because of those witchy eyes. "So, you're interested, huh?"

"What? No!" Except she'd asked too many questions-not a lot, but about two too many. The last thing she needed in her life right now was a man, especially one who asked so many questions. So what did it matter to her if his name was short for anything? It didn't. It couldn't. She should keep her mouth shut, starting now.

She shifted on her stool, put on an air of indifference. "Maybe he is a little hot, if if you like the type," Carlin conceded. Tall, hard, good-looking...yeah, you like the type," Carlin conceded. Tall, hard, good-looking...yeah, that that type. type. Woo hoo! Woo hoo! She tamped down her reaction and blithely lied. "But he's also a cowboy, and since you know the area and the people so well I feel honor-bound to follow your wise advice about avoiding the John Wayne wannabes." Plus she wasn't looking for any complications, but that went without saying. She tamped down her reaction and blithely lied. "But he's also a cowboy, and since you know the area and the people so well I feel honor-bound to follow your wise advice about avoiding the John Wayne wannabes." Plus she wasn't looking for any complications, but that went without saying.

"You are so full of s.h.i.t," Kat said, grinning. Then her smile faded. "Okay, to be honest, I was kind of hoping that Zeke might hire you on as his cook and housekeeper. Since Libby left last year he hasn't had much luck finding a replacement, and he's getting desperate."

What? Carlin felt the floor fall out from beneath her. Kat was letting her go? Why else would she be trying to find someone else to hire her? Talk about being blind-sided-one minute she's relaxed, happy, joking with a friend, and the next she was mentally thumbing through the atlas wondering where she'd be headed next. She'd thought she had more time to grow her savings, plus she really liked Kat and this place, d.a.m.n it. But life Carlin felt the floor fall out from beneath her. Kat was letting her go? Why else would she be trying to find someone else to hire her? Talk about being blind-sided-one minute she's relaxed, happy, joking with a friend, and the next she was mentally thumbing through the atlas wondering where she'd be headed next. She'd thought she had more time to grow her savings, plus she really liked Kat and this place, d.a.m.n it. But life was what it was, and she'd deal. "You don't have to find me another job. If this isn't working out for you-" was what it was, and she'd deal. "You don't have to find me another job. If this isn't working out for you-"

"No!" Kat said vehemently. "That isn't it at all. I love having your help, and we get along great. It's just that I know that business slows down every winter, and when that happens I won't have the money to pay you. We're good for a couple more months, but I was just trying to think ahead."

c.r.a.p. Carlin hated to think of leaving, but she'd known all along this was temporary. "When you can't afford me any more I'll move on," she said sensibly. She'd keep an eye out for a decline in business, and if Kat didn't let her go when that happened, she'd take care of it herself. It wouldn't be the first job she'd quit since she'd started running. Usually she just left, without a word of warning and especially without any hint where she might be heading, but then the kind of jobs she'd had generally didn't require notice. She wouldn't leave Kat in the lurch like that. "I don't want to be your cousin's nanny, anyway. He struck me as a hard man to please, and life's too short." Besides, he was too curious, asked too many questions, and would probably balk at the idea of paying her under the table.

"Just as well." Kat's eyes gleamed. "He wasn't keen on the idea, either."

Carlin's heart thudded hard. "You already asked him?" Her tone was just short of a squeal. Embarra.s.sed, she cleared her throat.

"I was just feeling him out. Don't worry, he shot the idea down pretty quick, so I didn't even get to the details about the way you need to be paid. He's none the wiser."

Out of all that, what stuck with Carlin the most was that Zeke didn't want her on his ranch. It was perfectly all right that she didn't want to go, but the fact that he'd dismissed her out of hand stung a bit.

Then a memory surfaced, and she felt herself turn red with anger. She hadn't thought anything about it at the time, but-"I came out of the kitchen for a minute while y'all were talking, and I heard him mention something about a with anger. She hadn't thought anything about it at the time, but-"I came out of the kitchen for a minute while y'all were talking, and I heard him mention something about a stray stray. I thought maybe he was talking about a dog or a cat, but he wasn't, was he? He was talking about me me." Brad had called her a lot of things, none of them complimentary, and hadn't dented her at all because after just two dates she'd known something was way off about him, but knowing Zeke Decker had called her a stray roused every fighting instinct she had.

"He didn't mean anything by it," Kat soothed, then she paused. "h.e.l.l, I'm not going to lie to cover his a.s.s, but he is is under a lot of stress, so try to cut him some slack." under a lot of stress, so try to cut him some slack."

Carlin wasn't about to argue with Kat about her cousin, but she was boiling inside. Stray! He could kiss her a.s.s.

Jerk.

SPENCER HAD FINALLY gotten the message about oatmeal. This morning's breakfast had been somewhat better, though a mess of toaster waffles was no one's idea of a great meal. Zeke had spread peanut b.u.t.ter on two warm, round waffles and slapped them together. The others had done the same, knowing they'd need some protein before lunchtime rolled around. At least they weren't being served cold cereal, which held them for about two hours before they were all starving again. Thank G.o.d there had been a huge pot of hot coffee to wash the sticky mess down. gotten the message about oatmeal. This morning's breakfast had been somewhat better, though a mess of toaster waffles was no one's idea of a great meal. Zeke had spread peanut b.u.t.ter on two warm, round waffles and slapped them together. The others had done the same, knowing they'd need some protein before lunchtime rolled around. At least they weren't being served cold cereal, which held them for about two hours before they were all starving again. Thank G.o.d there had been a huge pot of hot coffee to wash the sticky mess down.

With the hay baling behind them, the pace of his days on the ranch had eased a little. He'd managed to do some laundry, so he had clean socks and and underwear. Would wonders never cease. He'd never thought he'd be so grateful to have a laundry basket full of clean underwear. The hands were at work and Zeke was just about to settle underwear. Would wonders never cease. He'd never thought he'd be so grateful to have a laundry basket full of clean underwear. The hands were at work and Zeke was just about to settle down with another cup of coffee and bank records to compare and reconcile, when he heard the bang of the kitchen door being thrown open and a frantic voice calling, "Boss!" down with another cup of coffee and bank records to compare and reconcile, when he heard the bang of the kitchen door being thrown open and a frantic voice calling, "Boss!"

Sounded like Bo, which was bad news because Bo never panicked. Boots clumped hard and fast on the floor, and Bo appeared in the open doorway to Zeke's office, his expression urgent. Zeke was already up and on his way to the door. "What's happened?"

"Spencer," Bo said simply. "Santos got him."

s.h.i.t! A big bull could do a lot of damage to a man; Santos didn't have horns, but a swing of that big head could send someone flying, or a well-placed kick could break bones. Had Santos gone for Spencer after he was down? Normally the bull was calm, and like most animals behaved well for Spencer, but a bull was still a bull and not a house pet.

Zeke pushed his way past Bo, running through the house and out the open kitchen door, toward the barn. f.u.c.k! f.u.c.k! Spencer had been set to collect s.e.m.e.n from Santos this morning. He'd never had any trouble before; Spencer was a much better cowboy than he was a cook. Spencer had been set to collect s.e.m.e.n from Santos this morning. He'd never had any trouble before; Spencer was a much better cowboy than he was a cook.

"How bad?" he asked, as they ran.

"His arm's hurt, but I can't tell how bad it is until I can get close enough to check it out. No blow to the head, he's conscious and talking, but the bull is between Spencer and the rest of us and won't move. I suppose if anybody tried to jack me off and sell my sperm I'd get p.i.s.sy, too."

Inside the barn, the scene was pretty much as Bo had described. Three hands-Walt, Eli, and Patrick-stood between Santos and the door. Santos was agitated, pawing the ground and swinging that big head, facing the men and looking as if he might charge at any second. Spencer was on the ground, sitting propped against a stall, cradling his left arm. There wasn't a lick of color in his face.

"You okay?" Zeke asked, his eyes on the bull.

"Yes sir," Spencer said and swallowed "It's my fault. I was getting ready to move Santos into the head catch and I got distracted. I think I moved too fast and spooked him. He started bucking and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't blame him, boss, he's just being a bull."

Another reason why Spencer would be here for a very long time. The kid was hurt, but his first words had been in defense of the bull. "We'll worry about that later. Everyone else out." Too many people standing too close were part of the reason Santos was still spooked. And with all the others out of the way, the number of Santos's targets had decreased.

When it was just the three of them-Spencer, Santos, and Zeke-Zeke eased toward the bull. Already the animal seemed to be calmer. Zeke made low, soothing sounds as he moved forward. He'd actually petted the bull a few times, and Spencer had more than just a few, so this wasn't a mean animal. He was just big, and he was a bull. Enough said. His plan was to get Santos into the stall and locked up, and then get Spencer to the doctor-simple enough in thought, more difficult in execution, but not as difficult as it could have been. After some initial contrariness, Santos seemed to get bored, and simply turned and walked into the stall.

Zeke closed the gate and latched it, then called the rest of the men in as he went down on one knee beside Spencer. "Where do you hurt?"

Spencer's white features showed the stress of pain. "Just the shoulder. Hurts like a son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Thank G.o.d it was nothing more than a shoulder, which was bad enough. A kick to the head, and he and Spencer wouldn't be having this conversation. "I'm going to get you to town, let the doctor have a look at you." If they were lucky it was just a strain, and the doc in the local clinic would be able to take care of everything. If the injury was more complicated, they'd be headed to Cheyenne before the end of the day. were lucky it was just a strain, and the doc in the local clinic would be able to take care of everything. If the injury was more complicated, they'd be headed to Cheyenne before the end of the day.

"I'm sorry, boss," Spencer said as Zeke helped him to his feet. "I know this is a bad time for me to be down even for a few hours. Maybe Darby can cook, or Eli. They said they can't cook a lick, but everybody's got to eat tonight."

"Don't worry about any of that right now," Zeke said. "We're grown men; we can take care of ourselves for a while." Never mind that with Spencer hurt they were now short a hand and they'd been working long hours anyway. How in h.e.l.l could he spare anyone else to do any cooking? One night they could handle, but if the injury required surgery, if Spencer was going to be one-armed for a long period of time...If worse came to worst, Zeke would figure out how to throw a meal together himself. He'd tried that a time or two, trying to give Spencer a break, and each time it had been a disaster. Not only did he have a tendency to burn everything he cooked, he always managed to use every d.a.m.n dish in the kitchen in the process.

Kenneth and Micah were married. Maybe one of their wives, or both of them, would agree to prepare a meal or two, since this was a real emergency. They'd refused before, not wanting to be pulled into a full-time job they wouldn't be able to escape from. They each had small children, so it wasn't exactly an ideal situation. One way or another, though, everyone would get fed.

Libby had spoiled them all, with three hot meals a day-not just hot meals, but hearty, good food that was filling and provided the fuel they needed to work a long, hard day. Maybe they could get by with sandwiches and cereal for a while, but it wouldn't be good enough, not when they needed four or five thousand calories a day just to break even. They'd work it out, somehow. when they needed four or five thousand calories a day just to break even. They'd work it out, somehow.

But as he drove toward Battle Ridge, a silent Spencer sitting in the pa.s.senger seat beside him cradling his left arm, Zeke wasn't feeling hopeful about the situation.

Chapter Six

CARLIN HATED THE new nip in the air, the cooler mornings, the shorter days, the undeniable signals that winter was coming. Business at The Pie Hole hadn't taken a hit yet, but it soon would, if Kat's previous years were anything to go by. The past couple of days she'd taken out her atlas at night, opened it to Wyoming, and run her finger along the road that would take her away from Battle Ridge, much as she had on that first day here, when she'd thought she was stopping for a bite to eat and not really hoping for anything more. new nip in the air, the cooler mornings, the shorter days, the undeniable signals that winter was coming. Business at The Pie Hole hadn't taken a hit yet, but it soon would, if Kat's previous years were anything to go by. The past couple of days she'd taken out her atlas at night, opened it to Wyoming, and run her finger along the road that would take her away from Battle Ridge, much as she had on that first day here, when she'd thought she was stopping for a bite to eat and not really hoping for anything more.

Things had changed during the past weeks. Now she didn't want to leave. But what she wanted, and reality, were two different things. It was almost time to move on.

She no longer automatically checked the exits when she walked into a place, maybe because everywhere she went was so familiar that the details were burned into her brain. Her routine took her to a handful of places where she recognized the employees and sometimes the regular customers on sight: the grocery store; the small pharmacy; the library. Those were the only places she went when she ventured out of The Pie Hole. She no longer cringed inside whenever anyone took notice of her. It wasn't that she recognized every face she saw on the street or in the cafe, but someone in the vicinity always did. A stranger would stand out like a sore thumb here, the way she'd stood out a few weeks ago. her. It wasn't that she recognized every face she saw on the street or in the cafe, but someone in the vicinity always did. A stranger would stand out like a sore thumb here, the way she'd stood out a few weeks ago.

Leaving would mean starting all over again, not trusting anyone, never sleeping deeply, never laughing, never dancing as she mopped. Kat would be a problem. They'd become friends; she'd want to know where Carlin was headed and how they could stay in touch.

The idea was tempting, so tempting that she didn't dare. No, Brad had no idea she'd landed in Battle Ridge, but how could she stay in contact when she didn't know how he'd found her in Dallas? Had it been her cellphone, her utility bill, her social security number-what? There were so many ways it could have been, and she wasn't an expert at living underground. She was learning, she was smarter now than she'd been, but she wasn't in the same cla.s.s with Brad. Not only was he a wizard with the computer, as he'd told her several times during their two dates, but he was a cop and presumably had access to resources she had no idea even existed. She couldn't tell Kat where she was going; it was too dangerous. The safest course would be if they didn't stay in touch-safest for her, and definitely safest for Kat. Carlin would never let herself forget what had happened to Jina, never put Kat in that kind of jeopardy. There were so many ways it could have been, and she wasn't an expert at living underground. She was learning, she was smarter now than she'd been, but she wasn't in the same cla.s.s with Brad. Not only was he a wizard with the computer, as he'd told her several times during their two dates, but he was a cop and presumably had access to resources she had no idea even existed. She couldn't tell Kat where she was going; it was too dangerous. The safest course would be if they didn't stay in touch-safest for her, and definitely safest for Kat. Carlin would never let herself forget what had happened to Jina, never put Kat in that kind of jeopardy.

The best thing for her to do was just pack up her Subaru in the middle of the night and go. Kat would be p.i.s.sed. Maybe that was for the best.

If she waited until the dead of winter to leave, snow and ice would hamper her. She needed to be settled somewhere before the worst of it arrived. But when her finger traced the road leading from Battle Ridge, it never landed anywhere. It just slid along the page and then drifted up.

She wasn't ready to leave.

ZEKE OPENED T THE Pie Hole door and went in; it was early yet for the lunch crowd, but a couple of tables were occupied. Kat was wiping down the counter. A fresh pot of coffee was working, gurgling and competing with the scent of recently baked pies. He was dog tired, worried, but the comforting smells soothed him. Pie Hole door and went in; it was early yet for the lunch crowd, but a couple of tables were occupied. Kat was wiping down the counter. A fresh pot of coffee was working, gurgling and competing with the scent of recently baked pies. He was dog tired, worried, but the comforting smells soothed him.

Kat gave him a sympathetic look. "I heard about Spencer. How's he doing?"

Zeke slid onto a stool at the counter. She put a coffee cup before him and expertly filled it almost to the brim. Carefully Zeke lifted the cup, took that first sip, sighed at both the taste and the situation. "He'll be fine. It could've been a lot worse."

"You look frazzled."

He was was frazzled. It had been a week since Spencer had had his run-in with Santos, and Zeke was at the end of his rope. The moderate tear of the rotator cuff had required day surgery, which had meant a trip to Cheyenne. Spencer's physical therapy started next week, but thank goodness a physical therapist visited the clinic in Battle Ridge once a week so weekly trips to Cheyenne would not be necessary. But someone would have to drive Spencer to town for his session, which would mean on those afternoons Zeke would be two men short instead of one. He'd been trying to handle the cooking himself, what little he could do in the time he had to do it in, which wasn't much. The results had been stomach-turning. "It's been a long week." And that was the understatement of the year. Of course, the year wasn't over yet. There was still a lot of s.h.i.t that could happen. "Spencer's going to be in a sling for at least six weeks." frazzled. It had been a week since Spencer had had his run-in with Santos, and Zeke was at the end of his rope. The moderate tear of the rotator cuff had required day surgery, which had meant a trip to Cheyenne. Spencer's physical therapy started next week, but thank goodness a physical therapist visited the clinic in Battle Ridge once a week so weekly trips to Cheyenne would not be necessary. But someone would have to drive Spencer to town for his session, which would mean on those afternoons Zeke would be two men short instead of one. He'd been trying to handle the cooking himself, what little he could do in the time he had to do it in, which wasn't much. The results had been stomach-turning. "It's been a long week." And that was the understatement of the year. Of course, the year wasn't over yet. There was still a lot of s.h.i.t that could happen. "Spencer's going to be in a sling for at least six weeks."

"Have you found a cook yet?" Kat asked, and if not for the almost imperceptible lilt in her voice he'd think it was a perfectly innocent question.

He scowled at her. "You know d.a.m.n well I haven't. A couple of the men tried, but, h.e.l.l, they aren't cooks. I even brought in Kenneth's wife. Once." Then she'd told him flat out she had too much to do at her own home to take on his mess, too. She'd left the bunkhouse with a promise that she wouldn't be back. Micah's wife had turned him down flat. "I've been doing it myself, mostly."

Kat gave him a cheerful smile. "Well, it sounds like you've got everything well in hand," she said. "Do you want lunch or just pie? I have apple today."

Well in hand, my a.s.s. Zeke sipped at the coffee, ignoring the smugness she wasn't even trying to disguise. The coffee was great; it was hot and strong, just the way he liked it. "Both," he said, relieved at the thought of a hot, well-prepared meal, but too d.a.m.n irritated to work up a smile.

Kat started to turn away, to go into the kitchen where apparently Carly was preparing today's lunch special. Zeke sighed, faced what he had to do, and bit the bullet. He stopped her with a word. "But..."

She spun back around, and the expression on her face was almost evil, it was so smug. "Yes?" She tilted her head, waiting.

She knew, d.a.m.n it. She knew knew why he was here and she was going to make him beg. The bad thing was, he why he was here and she was going to make him beg. The bad thing was, he would would beg, if that's what it took. That's what he'd been reduced to, but he couldn't keep on the way he was going. All the hands would quit, and he couldn't blame them. h.e.l.l, he might even quit himself. "The new girl-Carly. If she's interested, I could use her at the ranch," he said grudgingly, and added, "Temporarily, of course." beg, if that's what it took. That's what he'd been reduced to, but he couldn't keep on the way he was going. All the hands would quit, and he couldn't blame them. h.e.l.l, he might even quit himself. "The new girl-Carly. If she's interested, I could use her at the ranch," he said grudgingly, and added, "Temporarily, of course."

One of the customers stood and headed for the cash register. Kat held up a finger to silently tell Zeke to wait while she rang up the ticket. She even engaged in a little light conversation, almost as if she were purposely making Zeke wait. "Almost?" There was no "almost" to it. She downright enjoyed torturing him.

But within a few minutes she was back. She leaned against the counter, smug smile still in place. "You were saying?"

"d.a.m.n it, Kat," he growled under his breath. "I'm desperate. I've got to get someone to fill in until Spencer is able to take on the cooking duties again, even if it is a blonde blonde who..." who..."

"Who what?" Kat prodded when he stopped himself before he said too much.

He needed to have his head examined. No, he needed needed someone like Libby, or a man who could cook. What he didn't need was a sa.s.sy blonde living in the same house, one who made him hard and p.i.s.sed him off at the same time. Kat thought someone like Libby, or a man who could cook. What he didn't need was a sa.s.sy blonde living in the same house, one who made him hard and p.i.s.sed him off at the same time. Kat thought she she was torturing him? She was nothing compared to what having Cautious Carly in his house would be like, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "What do you know about her? I'll run her references when I get a chance, but until then-" was torturing him? She was nothing compared to what having Cautious Carly in his house would be like, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "What do you know about her? I'll run her references when I get a chance, but until then-"

Kat's smile vanished. She gave him a long, level stare. "We have to talk about that."

Oh, f.u.c.k. He'd known something something was up with Miss Cautious, and Kat had just confirmed it. was up with Miss Cautious, and Kat had just confirmed it.

She disappeared into the kitchen, and was soon back with a plate of some chicken and gravy and rice dish that had his mouth watering on sight.

"Eat first," she said. "Then we'll talk."

It didn't bode well that she was trying to make sure he was in a good mood before they continued the conversation.

She left him to eat in peace while she checked on her other customers, refilled cups and gla.s.ses. Then she waited until they left before she came back, which told him she wanted privacy for this conversation.

What the h.e.l.l was he getting himself into?

What choice did he have?

CARLIN KNEW Z ZEKE Decker was in the restaurant. She'd heard his voice, distant but distinct, as soon as he'd come in. His tone was low, but deep and kind of raspy, probably from barking orders all day long. Or maybe it was like the voice of doom. Yeah, that was a great comparison. She was glad today she was the one cooking the daily special-Kat's recipe, but an easy one for her to get in some practice-instead of working the counter. The last thing she wanted to do was wait on that a.s.s who'd callously called her a "stray," and wouldn't consider hiring her even though, according to Kat, he desperately needed someone out at his ranch. Not that she Decker was in the restaurant. She'd heard his voice, distant but distinct, as soon as he'd come in. His tone was low, but deep and kind of raspy, probably from barking orders all day long. Or maybe it was like the voice of doom. Yeah, that was a great comparison. She was glad today she was the one cooking the daily special-Kat's recipe, but an easy one for her to get in some practice-instead of working the counter. The last thing she wanted to do was wait on that a.s.s who'd callously called her a "stray," and wouldn't consider hiring her even though, according to Kat, he desperately needed someone out at his ranch. Not that she wanted wanted to work for him, but it was the principle of the thing. to work for him, but it was the principle of the thing.

Then Kat stuck her head into the kitchen. "Hey, turn the heat off under everything and come on out here for a minute, okay?" Carlin's heart jumped, which was a stupid thing for it to do, but evidently cardiac muscles just had impulses, not brains.

She took a deep breath and turned everything off, then washed her hands and thoroughly dried them-twice-before she left the kitchen.

The first thing she saw was that Zeke was the only customer there. It was a little early for the regular lunch customers, and the last of the breakfast crowd had left. Zeke had cleaned his plate and had a half-eaten piece of apple pie sitting in front of him.

He looked at her as if he was very unhappy with what he saw. He did everything but growl. Yeah, well, let him try to look nice wearing a gravy-stained ap.r.o.n and a hairnet; she gave him back as good as she got, all but snarling at him.

Kat glared at him, and rapped her knuckles on the counter to emphasize her point. "Before I start, you have to promise me that everything we say to you will remain confidential." to promise me that everything we say to you will remain confidential."

His scowl got even darker, and he groaned as he rubbed his face. "s.h.i.t. This can't be good."

"Promise," Kat insisted. "Or this won't go an inch further and you can go look somewhere else for a cook."

What? Carlin shook her head in protest. She didn't want to go cook for Grumpy and his not-so-merry band of cowboys. This was Carlin shook her head in protest. She didn't want to go cook for Grumpy and his not-so-merry band of cowboys. This was so so not a good idea. She glared at him. And exactly what was Kat going to tell him? Surely not about- not a good idea. She glared at him. And exactly what was Kat going to tell him? Surely not about- He glared back, but said, "Fine. I promise." He didn't sound happy about it, but Kat seemed to be satisfied.

She got straight to the point. "Carlin has some trouble of the stalker variety. She needs to stay completely off the grid for a while."

"Kat!" Appalled, Carlin stared at her. So much for keeping her name a secret. Maybe he hadn't picked up on it, because Carly and Carlin sounded so much alike, but she glanced at him to find him staring at her with an intensity that told her he'd noticed, all right.

Kat raised her hand to forestall any more protests. "Trust me," she said. "He can help."

"Yeah? How?"

"His situation has gotten worse, and now you're in the driver's seat because he needs you more than you need him," Kat said, gloating even though Zeke was sitting right there listening to everything she said. She smiled. He made a sound in his throat that might be a growl.

Zeke was already shaking his head. "I can't believe this. The last thing I need is to take on another problem-"

Kat snorted. "Yeah, because you're doing so well on your own. Carlin can cook and clean, and the ranch would be the perfect place for her to lay low for a few months." Her hands went out and up. "Win-win."

"I just need someone for a few weeks, until Spencer's out of his sling. And I sure as h.e.l.l don't need anyone who has to out of his sling. And I sure as h.e.l.l don't need anyone who has to lay low lay low."

"And why would I be laying low laying low at the ranch anyway?" Carlin asked. "Why couldn't I stay here and drive out to the ranch every day? a.s.suming I wanted to work for him anyway, which I don't, me being a stray and all. We strays don't like to work hard." She curled her lip at him to let him know exactly how much she appreciated his choice of words, which was zero, zip, nada. at the ranch anyway?" Carlin asked. "Why couldn't I stay here and drive out to the ranch every day? a.s.suming I wanted to work for him anyway, which I don't, me being a stray and all. We strays don't like to work hard." She curled her lip at him to let him know exactly how much she appreciated his choice of words, which was zero, zip, nada.

But Kat shook her head. "It's a long drive, at least an hour, that you don't want to be making twice a day, especially at night. You'd have to get up at three-something in the morning to get to the ranch in time to have breakfast ready, and wouldn't get home until ten, eleven at night, sometimes. It just wouldn't work, not even when the weather's good. The days are getting short now, and once winter rolls around the roads can get pretty icy. This is definitely a live-in job." She shrugged her shoulders. "And besides, I stay upstairs in the winter when the roads are bad."