With the cake finished and everything else in the slow cooker or the oven, Carlin ran back to her rooms-Libby's old rooms-to freshen up a bit. She could say all she wanted that she didn't care what Libby thought of her, but the woman was important to Zeke, so like it or not she did did care. She brushed her hair, put on a touch of pale lipstick, and changed into a blouse that didn't have a single food stain on it. She almost always wore an ap.r.o.n when she cooked, but she was a messy cook and no ap.r.o.n covered everything. care. She brushed her hair, put on a touch of pale lipstick, and changed into a blouse that didn't have a single food stain on it. She almost always wore an ap.r.o.n when she cooked, but she was a messy cook and no ap.r.o.n covered everything.

What she really needed was a smock, like the ones chefs wore on the cooking channels she'd been watching since coming here. Since she'd learned to cook maybe her next job would be in the kitchen, too. At least she'd expanded her capabilities. next job would be in the kitchen, too. At least she'd expanded her capabilities.

Her next job. It was a concept so vague she couldn't hold it in her head for more than a few seconds.

She was back in the kitchen when she heard the key in the lock, followed by a bewildered female voice saying, "Why on earth have you started locking the door in the middle of the day?"

They'd decided not to tell Libby any details about Carlin's situation. Only Zeke and Kat knew the truth, and it was better that way.

She couldn't hear Zeke's explanation, which was delivered in a lowered voice that didn't carry from the mudroom.

Libby walked into the kitchen, took a long, deep breath, smiled at Carlin and said, "Something smells good."

The perfect Libby was short, plump, had dyed dark brown hair, and a wide beaming smile that didn't disguise the shrewdness of her gaze. She might be smiling, but she was reserving judgment.

Zeke was right behind her, two suitcases-one large, one small-in his hands. "Libby, this is Carly Hunt."

Libby's smile remained firmly in place, just as her a.s.sessing look didn't change at all. "Glad to meet you. Zeke told me all about you," she said, leaving Carlin to wonder whether Libby thought what she'd heard was good or bad. "Of course, I've heard a lot about you already, from some of my old friends around here."

Oh, no. That couldn't be good! Could it? What had she heard, and from whom had she heard it? She and Zeke had tried so hard not to let anyone realize that their relationship had changed. Kat had seen it, but she didn't think anyone else was the wiser. She instinctively didn't like that people in Battle Ridge had been talking about her, though thank G.o.d she'd covered for herself by not using her real name. Everything should be okay.

Zeke carried the bags through the dining room. "Libby, I'm going to put your bags in my old bedroom, if that suits you." His old bedroom was on the first floor.

"That's perfect," she answered. "I can still handle the stairs, but my knees don't like it much these days."

"If you want your old rooms while you're visiting, I can take the other bedroom," Carlin offered. She didn't have that many clothes or toiletries to move. It would be a pain, but she was willing.

"That's okay, I'm fine with Zeke's old room," Libby replied. "I'll just be here for a week, or two. No need to run you out of your quarters."

Or two? What the h.e.l.l? Zeke had said Libby would be here a week, tops. "There are fresh sheets on the bed in Zeke's old room," Carlin said. What the h.e.l.l? Zeke had said Libby would be here a week, tops. "There are fresh sheets on the bed in Zeke's old room," Carlin said.

Libby's smile said that she certainly hoped so, that anything else was unacceptably sloppy. Carlin felt put in her place, even though Libby hadn't said a word of criticism. Dang, that was an art she needed to cultivate, herself.

"Fresh towels, soap, and shampoo, are in the downstairs bath. Is there anything else you need?"

"No." Libby's gaze moved to Carlin's hair, and the line between her brows deepened as she squinted. She pursed her lips. "I've been thinking about going blond," she said, changing the subject without warning. "This brown is way too dark, but I'm not ready to go back to red yet. I love the color of your hair. What shade do you use?"

"Uh, this is my natural color," Carlin said as Libby leaned closer.

"Really. Hmm. I change my hair color a lot. I get bored with seeing the same thing every time I look in a mirror-not that changing color takes any of the weight off my b.u.t.t," Libby said, and laughed. "But I've gone back and forth between brown and red so many times I'm tired of it."

Okay, that laugh had been genuine. Carlin relaxed a little. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. If you'd like to settle in before we eat..." little. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. If you'd like to settle in before we eat..."

"No, I'm fine." Libby walked around the big kitchen, peeking in the slow cooker, turning on the light in the oven and peering inside. She even checked out the silverware drawer, and the junk drawer where Zeke threw odds and ends. Carlin kept expecting the woman to pull out a white glove and check the top of the fridge.

"I spent years in this kitchen," she said softly, more to herself than to Carlin. "It's mostly the same way it was, but it's different, too. It isn't mine, now."

Zeke returned to the kitchen. Hands now empty, he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb between the kitchen and the dining room. And he smiled. He did that a lot, these days. He smiled at her her.

And she'd wondered if anyone else knew about them. If they saw him looking at her this way they'd most definitely know something was going on.

But for right now, he was smiling at the both of them.

LIBBY SAT AT the dining room table and watched the men around her. Being here was both familiar and strange, because she knew these men almost as well as she knew herself. They had been in her care for years-well, except for Spencer, who wasn't that long from his mother's care. Once the round of enthusiastic greetings and hugs had subsided, the hands she'd fed for so long settled down to eat what was, she admitted, a tasty and healthy meal. She'd always had such a hard time getting the men to eat vegetables, but they dug into what was served, even the green beans. the dining room table and watched the men around her. Being here was both familiar and strange, because she knew these men almost as well as she knew herself. They had been in her care for years-well, except for Spencer, who wasn't that long from his mother's care. Once the round of enthusiastic greetings and hugs had subsided, the hands she'd fed for so long settled down to eat what was, she admitted, a tasty and healthy meal. She'd always had such a hard time getting the men to eat vegetables, but they dug into what was served, even the green beans.

She'd heard through the Battle Ridge grapevine that Zeke had been getting chummy with the new cook and housekeeper. It wasn't like she hadn't been meaning to visit, anyway, but the news had spurred her on. What if Carly Hunt was a gold digger, out to take Zeke for all he was worth? What if she was using him? visit, anyway, but the news had spurred her on. What if Carly Hunt was a gold digger, out to take Zeke for all he was worth? What if she was using him?

Her brain said that Zeke Decker could take care of himself, that he was too sharp to let himself be fooled by a pretty face again after his experience with his ex-wife, but the fact was Zeke was a man, and more than one smart man had been blinded by s.e.x. So despite what her brain had told her, her heart had insisted she check out this new housekeeper.

Right now, Libby was reserving judgment. You couldn't see the truth of someone right off the bat, but so far she hadn't seen anything bad. Carly had done more work in the past hour than Libby had seen Rachel do in the months she'd been here, but her work ethic could be a part of a scam. She might be trying to make herself appear to be the perfect candidate for ranch wife, and then as soon as the ring was on her finger she'd change her tune.

Of course, exactly what would she gain? Zeke's lifestyle was far from extravagant. There was money in a ranch this size, if it was properly managed, which Zeke's was. But how would Carly necessarily know this? Unless she had experience with ranches, which from what everyone said she definitely didn't, she'd think Zeke was getting by. And even then-a con would mean grab the money and run, not sign on for what Libby knew was months of a lot of hard work.

The hands at the table all seemed to like Carly, and the way Zeke looked at her-well, all she could say was, Libby genuinely hoped Carly Hunt wasn't a scam artist, wasn't a gold digger. If she was genuine, if she truly cared about him the way he obviously cared about her, then she was just what the doctor ordered.

Carly left the table to fetch dessert, and returned with a tall white layer cake with fluffy white icing. Libby eyed it with hidden misgiving. What was Carly thinking? After all this time, didn't she know these men preferred chocolate, in any form, any day of the week? Were they just being polite when they acted as if they couldn't wait for a slice of that cake? with hidden misgiving. What was Carly thinking? After all this time, didn't she know these men preferred chocolate, in any form, any day of the week? Were they just being polite when they acted as if they couldn't wait for a slice of that cake?

Carly placed the cake before Zeke, who started to cut it while she returned to the kitchen for decaf. Walt said something about the "Never Fail White Cake" and Patrick laughed.

Dear G.o.d, was that the the Never Fail White Cake? Libby's eyed widened. "Oh my G.o.d!" she blurted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. She'd tried the recipe once- Never Fail White Cake? Libby's eyed widened. "Oh my G.o.d!" she blurted, then clapped a hand over her mouth. She'd tried the recipe once-once-but thank G.o.d she'd been smart enough to do a taste test before serving it. Okay, it had simply looked good, she'd been hungry, so she'd cut herself a slice to tide her over until dinner. The cake had been like rubber and she'd tossed it in the garbage before anyone had seen. She'd never tried that recipe again. Maybe she should've scribbled a warning note in the margins of that page.

Carly paused, alarm on her face. "What?"

There was nothing to do now but explain. "I tried that recipe once. The cake was like rubber rubber! It was awful. I threw the cake in the garbage and never mentioned it to anyone."

Everyone burst out laughing. Carly's mouth fell open in astonishment. "That's exactly what it was like the first time I made it!"

"You mean you kept kept making it?" making it?"

"I'd never made a cake before, so I thought it was something I'd done wrong. All of my cooking is an experiment in progress." Carly shrugged. "I just keep at it until I come up with something that's edible."

The men were grinning. Plates laden with large slices of cake were pa.s.sed around the table. Libby accepted a plate, staring at the thick, fluffy white cake. She waited until she had a cup of coffee sitting in front of her before she took a bite of the cake, because she wanted something handy to wash it down, if needed. She took a small bite. she took a bite of the cake, because she wanted something handy to wash it down, if needed. She took a small bite.

Everyone was openly watching her. The cake melted in her mouth. Her eyes rounded. "Holy c.r.a.p, this is good," she blurted. "You have to show me what you did."

She took a bigger bite of the cake, and looked up just as Carly and Zeke shared a quick glance that was obviously not meant to be observed. Zeke's gaze was warm, and Carly's was...did she know she got that soft look in her eyes when she looked at him?

Okay, maybe she was genuine. Maybe she truly cared about Zeke. Libby wasn't completely convinced, but she had to take into account that the men here weren't fools, and they all seemed to really like the girl, and she appeared to like them as well. Maybe Zeke Decker had once again somehow twisted and mauled circ.u.mstances until they gave him exactly what he wanted.

Chapter Twenty-six

IT WAS TIME. It was past time. Zeke had held off on taking this step for weeks, even though he knew he didn't have any choice. If he kept his promise to Carlin, if he didn't try to help her, she'd move on in a few weeks and be no better off than she'd been when she'd arrived in Battle Ridge. If he could convince her to stay it would be a different matter. He'd do everything he could to protect her, but d.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l and back, he couldn't protect her if she wasn't f.u.c.king here here.

If he could help her she'd hate him-but she'd be safe, and that was the most important thing.

A second trip to town in as many days was unusual, but he didn't want Carlin or Libby or anyone else on his heels when he walked into the sheriff's auxiliary office, a sterile, boxy, newish building not far from the grocery store. He was in luck. Billy Nelson was working the Battle Ridge office today. He and Billy had gone to school together, and the deputy could be trusted to keep his word-and to keep his mouth shut, if that was asked of him.

Zeke asked for privacy, and they went into a small room and closed the door. If the receptionist at the front desk thought it was strange, she didn't let it show. She had her hands full with paperwork of some sort, files and folders and an ancient-looking computer. hands full with paperwork of some sort, files and folders and an ancient-looking computer.

He and Billy sat in matching uncomfortable chairs, and after asking for discretion-which Billy promised-Zeke told everything he knew about Carlin's past: Brad, Jina, Dallas, a nameless small town on the outskirts of Houston. He mentioned that Brad was a hacker as well as a cop, and apparently a very talented one, and asked Billy to keep any inquiries to the telephone or snail mail.

Zeke hadn't been sure what kind of reception he'd get, but Billy took the news seriously enough.

"I'll be hampered by not using the computer, but I'll see what I can do. Until then..." Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "I have a cousin in Cheyenne who's a private investigator. Maybe he'll be able to do things I can't."

"Such as?" Zeke asked as he watched Billy scrawl a name and phone number on the back of his own card.

"There's not a lot I can do if you don't file a report, and a report will have to be official. If this guy is a cop, and a hacker to boot, I don't see how we could keep it a secret from him. Battle Ridge is a small town. He wouldn't have any trouble finding Carly. I'd be surprised if there are three people on main street who wouldn't recognize her picture."

Zeke took the card, wondering if he was doing the right thing, knowing that he had to do something. He'd call the PI from his cell. Even if Brad somehow found out that a private investigator in Cheyenne was looking into him-and Carlin-investigations originating in the larger city wouldn't lead him straight to the Decker Ranch. Zeke decided, before he called, to warn the PI and also to make sure there was no personal information stored on that end that might lead Brad to Battle Ridge.

He hated to lie to Carlin, hated it more than he'd thought he would, but he knew if he told her what he'd done she'd be gone by morning. She'd saved plenty of money in her time working for him and Kat, so she had the means to just pick up and go. thought he would, but he knew if he told her what he'd done she'd be gone by morning. She'd saved plenty of money in her time working for him and Kat, so she had the means to just pick up and go.

Because he didn't want her to go, he'd keep his latest actions a secret, for now. With any luck, he'd find out that Brad was dead or in jail, no longer a danger to Carlin or anyone else. But until he got lucky, he'd have to lie to her-lying by omission, but still, she'd consider it a lie and so would he, if the tables were turned.

His promise, though, had come with a qualifier: for now for now. That time had pa.s.sed and he knew in his gut that he couldn't wait any longer. She likely wouldn't think that was sufficient reason for him to make a move without consulting her, but he d.a.m.n sure did.

A part of him wanted to call Brad himself, to hunt the b.a.s.t.a.r.d down and issue a challenge-Come and get her, motherf.u.c.ker, try to get through me. But this wasn't the Old West and, unfortunately, "He needed killin'" was no longer an acceptable defense.

At the very least, he could see the son of a b.i.t.c.h in jail. Somehow, some way, there was evidence that would convict him of killing Carlin's friend in Dallas. But if no one was looking, nothing would ever change. It was time to look, and look hard.

LIBBY HAD SPENT much of the past three days trying to hold back her impulse to celebrate Zeke's find in Carly. It never hurt to be cautious. If there was something off about the girl, either in the way she did her job, or in the way she treated Zeke or the hands, Libby wanted to keep an open mind so she could spot it. After three days, she hadn't spotted a d.a.m.n thing wrong. much of the past three days trying to hold back her impulse to celebrate Zeke's find in Carly. It never hurt to be cautious. If there was something off about the girl, either in the way she did her job, or in the way she treated Zeke or the hands, Libby wanted to keep an open mind so she could spot it. After three days, she hadn't spotted a d.a.m.n thing wrong.

Maybe it was time she stopped looking for flaws.

Maybe, in spite of her initial reservations, Carly was perfect for Zeke. She was funny. She was energetic. She was sa.s.sy, and she didn't take any guff from Zeke, which was a big plus in Libby's book. That was one thing that had been wrong with Rachel; she hadn't known how to go toe-to-toe with him, so she'd shown her unhappiness in other ways. Carly gave him as good as she got, and sometimes more. The truly funny thing was that Zeke seemed to enjoy when she shot some smart-a.s.s comment at him. Maybe, in spite of her initial reservations, Carly was perfect for Zeke. She was funny. She was energetic. She was sa.s.sy, and she didn't take any guff from Zeke, which was a big plus in Libby's book. That was one thing that had been wrong with Rachel; she hadn't known how to go toe-to-toe with him, so she'd shown her unhappiness in other ways. Carly gave him as good as she got, and sometimes more. The truly funny thing was that Zeke seemed to enjoy when she shot some smart-a.s.s comment at him.

"Good morning," Carly said cheerfully when Libby entered the kitchen. It was almost dawn, which made for an early start to the day for anyone, but Carly looked freshly scrubbed and bright-eyed. Coffee was made, something was baking and it smelled wonderful and cinnamony. As she did every morning, the next question was, "What can I get for you?"

Libby said the same thing she did every morning as she headed toward the coffeepot. "Nothing, hon. You have enough to do for these men, without waiting on me, too."

Carly nodded and got back to work.

Libby sat at the kitchen table and sipped at the coffee, content with everything she'd seen so far. Carly was exactly who she appeared to be, nothing more, nothing less: a good, hardworking woman who had landed right where she needed to be. And, just maybe, the good, hardworking woman Zeke needed by his side.

"What smells so good?" she asked.

"Cinnamon rolls." Carly rolled her eyes. "I don't know why my biscuits just don't turn out right, but the cinnamon rolls always behave just fine."

"Homemade cinnamon rolls?" cinnamon rolls?"

"Of course." Carly didn't look Libby's way, but she gave a wry smile. "A few months ago I could barely heat up a can of soup. Now I'm not afraid to try anything, as long as I have a recipe to go by. Well, more accurately, I may have doubts but why not try anyway?" At that, she did turn to look at Libby. "There is one thing I haven't dared to try." may have doubts but why not try anyway?" At that, she did turn to look at Libby. "There is one thing I haven't dared to try."

"What's that?"

"Your chocolate cake. Everyone says it was just wonderful, and I'm afraid anything I did would suck in comparison. Oh-I don't make pies, either. Same reason, different cook."

"Kat," Libby said.

Carly nodded. "I don't suppose you would make that cake while you're here so I could see how you do it? I know Zeke-and the others, too-would fall over in fits of grat.i.tude if I could make a chocolate cake half as good as yours."

Libby tried not to feel flattered. She didn't try hard, because it was nice to know an old dog still had a few tricks she could teach to the youngster.

Zeke came striding into the kitchen, his gaze landing on Carly and lingering. If they'd been alone in the kitchen, Libby figured Carly would have been kissed until she didn't know which way was up. It was as if there was a magnetic charge between them. Carly even took a step toward him, then stopped and moved back.

Zeke grabbed a half cup of coffee, downed it, and headed for the mudroom.

"Half an hour before breakfast," Carly said. "Don't let it get cold."

"We'll be here." He stopped in the middle of the kitchen, took a long, deep breath, and grinned. "Cinnamon rolls."

Carly smiled. "Yep."

He went on into the mudroom and after a second or two, Carly followed. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said, to explain why she was following. Soon they were out of sight.

Libby slowly stood up, a sneaky smile creasing her face.

Who did they think they were fooling? She tiptoed to the mudroom door on quiet, slippered feet, and stopped when she was close enough to hear. They weren't talking, so they were probably enjoying the kiss they'd both wanted but had denied themselves, thanks to her. Who did they think they were fooling? She tiptoed to the mudroom door on quiet, slippered feet, and stopped when she was close enough to hear. They weren't talking, so they were probably enjoying the kiss they'd both wanted but had denied themselves, thanks to her.

The kiss didn't last a horribly long time. Carly said, in a lowered voice. "Pull that hat down over your ears. I don't want you getting frostbite."

"I think I know how to stay warm." Heavens, when was the last time she'd heard Zeke sound so...relaxed?

"I know you do." Libby wondered if Carly was straightening Zeke's coat and hat, making sure he was wellbundled up. "And don't think you won't have to eat any eggs for breakfast just because there are cinnamon rolls. You need some protein or else you'll crash long before lunchtime."

"Yes ma'am."

"And one more thing," Carly said in a lowered voice Libby could barely hear from her position. "Kiss me one more time before you go."

At that, Libby returned to her seat. When Carly came back into the kitchen a few moments later, her cheeks were a little flushed, but she likely didn't realize that she looked so well kissed.

"Would you like a warmup?" Carly asked, headed for the coffeepot.

"Sure. Thank you."

Carly walked to the kitchen table with the carafe in her hand. As she was pouring coffee into the cup, Libby said, "You know, I'd be happy to teach you how to make my chocolate cake."

CARLIN PEEKED OUT the mudroom window. Yes, Libby was headed for the bunkhouse. Apparently she was going the mudroom window. Yes, Libby was headed for the bunkhouse. Apparently she was going to inspect the hands' home just as she'd inspected this one. to inspect the hands' home just as she'd inspected this one.

a.s.sured that Libby would be occupied for a few minutes, Carlin walked toward Zeke's office. Okay, she ran, just a little. Having another person in the house was a pain in the a.s.s, even though she liked Libby, which surprised her. When Libby had first arrived it had been obvious she'd had her reservations, but Carlin had figured there wasn't anything she could do about that except be herself, and if their positions had been reversed she'd have been just as suspicious. Libby was down to earth, she liked a bawdy joke, and she was full of laughter and chatter. Carlin could see why Zeke cared about the woman who had once been his housekeeper and surrogate mother. Still, her own time here was precious, and she wanted to be alone with Zeke when she could.