Tempted by the Texan

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You may have just come up with a new recipe. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of eggs flambé before.”

“I suppose there’s something I should tell you about my ability to cook,” she said, her voice muffled from her face being buried in his chest.

“I’m listening,” he said, doing his best not to laugh. He had a good idea what she was about to tell him.

“I don’t know the first thing about cooking unless it’s reading the back of a box to find out how many minutes to program the timer on a microwave,” she admitted.

“But that apple pie you made for my birthday a couple of years ago tasted great,” he reminded her.

“If Bria hadn’t stood beside me and told me step by step what to do, it wouldn’t have been edible.” She shook her head. “I should have told you I can’t cook.”

“Oh, I kind of got that cooking might not be in your skill set when the smoke alarm went off. And if that hadn’t tipped me off, I think the blazing skillet would have.” Using his finger to lift her chin so their gazes met, he grinned. “Until a few minutes ago, I’d never seen black eggs.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m much better at business management.”

“Let’s go back inside,” he suggested when she shivered against him. The weather was colder than normal for February, and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were in for some kind of frozen precipitation.

Once they were back in the kitchen, Mariah scraped the charred eggs into the garbage disposal and put the skillet in sudsy water to soak while he closed the windows. “Would you like some toast for breakfast?” she asked, her voice a bit subdued. “I know I can make that.”

He shook his head. “I’ll just take a cup of coffee.”

“I was going to ask you about that,” she said, eyeing the coffeemaker as if it might bite her. “I normally waited until I got to work to have my morning coffee. The office had one of those makers that used the little individual cups.”

All things considered, he probably shouldn’t find her lack of kitchen knowledge amusing. But he did. “Making coffee is pretty easy. I’ll show you what to do so you can make it tomorrow morning.” Once he showed her how to get the coffeemaker started, he got two mugs from the cabinet and poured them both a cup when it finished brewing.

“Thank you,” she said, adding creamer to her coffee. Walking over to the table, she slumped into one of the chairs. “I thought I would ask Bria to show me a few simple things to make, but I haven’t had the chance to go over there yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He sat down beside her, then reached over to cover her hand with his. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to change your job description.”

“To what?” she asked, looking as though she expected the worst. “Unemployed?”

“No.” He smiled. “In light of recent events, I think it would be in both of our best interests to move you into a position that you’re more familiar with. How would you like to take over as ranch manager?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve getting near a stove, I’m sure I can do the job,” she said, sounding relieved. “But what are you going to do for a housekeeper and cook?”

“I think the first item on your agenda as ranch manager should be to hire someone who has a little more experience in the kitchen,” he teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

She smiled sheepishly. “If you want to eat more than burned offerings, that probably wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

He told her where to find the ranch files on his computer and gave her his password. “If you have time, you can familiarize yourself with the ranch records today. I’ll stick around the house tomorrow so that we can discuss what I have planned and set goals to make it happen.”

With a degree in ranch management, he could run the Wild Maverick with his eyes closed. But he had promised her a job and he wasn’t going back on his word.

“I think I already have someone in mind for the housekeeping position,” Mariah said, looking thoughtful. “She used to work for me at the real estate management office and when we found out we no longer had jobs, she mentioned trying to find something closer to Stephenville, where her son and his family live.”

“Can she cook?” he asked, grinning at her over the rim of his coffee mug.