“If you won’t cook it, I will,” he said, then walked toward the kitchen, carrying his plate.
She stared after him for a stunned instant. Then she was on her feet, angrily hurrying after him. She reached the kitchen as he forked his prime rib onto the broiler pan and put it in the oven.
“Do you realize how much trouble I went to tonight?” Her voice trembled with her effort to control her temper. “I worked so hard to make everything come out just right, and you’re ruining it!”
“You should have remembered I like my beef well done.”
“You like? You have absolutely no taste!” Her jaw was clenched tight. “You would have been happy with steak and potatoes.”
His hands were on his hips as he regarded her. “I had a feeling all this was leading up to something. Why else would there be this display of gourmet skills?”
&
nbsp; “As if you have ever tasted anything but burned steaks,” she taunted.
His gaze narrowed. “For your information, I’ve had better broiled grapefruit in Dallas, and the dressing for the salad had too much vinegar.” His criticism stopped her short. “I don’t object to variety. And I don’t object to the unusual. But the next time you want to show off, don’t do it with your nose in the air, thinking you are the only one who knows what is good. And don’t forget—I like my meat well done!”
She whirled away from him, stinging from his remarks because they were true. She had wanted to prove he knew nothing about fine cuisine. She had wanted the chance to be condescending, patronizing. She had wanted to be better than he was, so he would be less worthy of her notice. She had wanted him to be the country bumpkin, while she was the lady. But now she was the one coming away from the encounter smarting.
As she entered the dining room, she met Ty on his way out, the plate with his slice of prime rib in his hand. “Where are you going with that?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ve never eaten prime rib when it was well done. I thought I’d try it.”
“But you always like it rare,” she protested. This seemed the final defection.
“I’ve never had it any other way, so how do I know it’s the only way I like it?” he reasoned.
And Maggie was helpless to argue against that. She ate her rare beef alone, while her husband and son waited in the kitchen for their meat to cook to well done.
Chapter XXXI
The bay gelding pulled at the bit, dancing sideways in its eagerness to reach the barns, but Maggie held it down to a fast walk as they entered the ranch yard. She saw Tucker wave to her from the back door of the cookhouse and motion that he wanted to speak to her. She reined the protesting horse toward him, the bay unwilling to be turned away from the bars and the waiting grain.
“Hi.” She stopped the horse and swung out of the saddle when she reached Tucker. A brisk ride had brought color to her cheeks and rumpled the black hair curling out from under her hat.
“Culley sent word that he wanted to meet you at four o’clock by the east gate of the north range.” Tucker wasted no time passing on the message. “Take the keys to my truck. It’s the green one. You’ll just have time to make it. I’ll take care of your horse.”
A quick glance at her watch confirmed his statement, and she handed him the reins to her horse and took the keys he offered. The full impact of the message didn’t hit her until she had turned onto the ranch road that branched to the north. Culley asked to meet her on the north range—where she and Chase used to meet, Calder property. And Chase had warned him not to set foot on his land.
Her toe pressed the accelerator down and the speedometer needle swung to fifty-five. She was suddenly frightened by the risk her brother was taking, deliberately defying Chase … as her father had defied his father’s warning. A dust cloud plumed behind the speeding truck as she raced along the road.
When she approached the north range, the sight of a horse and rider cantering across an open stretch slowed her down. For an instant, Maggie thought the slender rider was her brother, and she knew another moment of fear that he was riding so openly across Calder land. Then she recognized Buck Haskell. Thankfully, he was riding in the opposite direction from the east gate. She breathed a sigh of relief.
There was no sign of Culley when she reached the designated meeting place. She climbed out of the truck and glanced at her watch. She was five minutes late. Had he left when she didn’t show up on time? She hoped so.
Tall poles flanked both ends of the gate, standing high to mark where the fence gate was located so a rider could aim for it while he was still some distance away. Maggie climbed to the second highest rail to see if Culley was still in sight and used the tall pole at one end to keep her balance.
A shrill whistle came from the trees near the winding river. Maggie looked to her right and saw the horse and rider standing in the shadows. Culley waved his hat to her. She swung a leg across the top rail, finding a toehold on the same board from the opposite side. Quickly she brought the other leg over and hopped to the ground. She hurried quickly across the open ground to the trees.
“What are you doing here, Culley? I saw Buck Haskell riding south of here. If he finds you—”
“Don’t worry about him.” He brushed aside her concern. “He’s long gone, headed for the ranch.” There was a rashness about him; she could see it in his eyes. “I knew you’d come.”
“You sent for me. Of course, I came.” She tried to calm down her own jittery nerves before she attempted to reason with him and convince him to leave before somebody discovered them.
“You may be married to Calder, but your family is still important to you.” He said it fiercely, as if needing the reassurance of her loyalty.
“You are important to me. Except for Ty, you’re the only family I have.”