Cooking For Cowboy (Stampede Sizzlers) Page 2

  “Sounds rough, especially for your mother. She always treated your friends like her own kids. If I had a dollar for every cookie she baked for us, I’d be retired years ago.” Martin chuckled. “She sure loved children. Too bad she never had more than just you.”

  “Yeah, I always wanted a brother, but you were a suitable substitute,” said Chad, grinning.

  “The two of us were closer than I was with my own brother.” Martin leaned over and grabbed Chad around the neck and playfully shook him. “Of course, Blair was ten years older than me, so we really didn’t have a hell of a lot in common. Blair and I never got into any trouble, not like we did. Considering some of the stuff we pulled, it amazes me that we survived our childhood.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” agreed Chad. “Remember the night we damn near burned down Dad’s horse barn?”

  “I had nightmares about that stunt for weeks afterward.” Martin blew out his breath. “An angel sat on our shoulders that night, watching over our irresponsible asses. Otherwise, there’s no logical explanation for how we managed to put out that fire ourselves.”

  “First time I believed in miracles.” Chad punched Martin on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the ranch. Mom’s in the hospital for a few more days until they complete the tests her doctor ordered. And the nurses mentioned giving her some pointers on how to maneuver a wheelchair. I bought her a top-of-the-line chair, but she’s not taking to the idea too well. Maybe I should have gotten her an electric one?”

  “Probably wouldn’t matter. If she’s not happy about it, you could have bought her the Rolls Royce of wheelchairs and it wouldn’t have helped. Say hi to her for me next time you visit.”

  “Will do, and keep your ears open in case you hear of a cook looking for a job.” Chad stood and grabbed his Stetson off the bar’s counter.

  Martin rose at the same time. “Well, I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. The second seating is arriving and Sierra will need me back at her side.”

  “Sierra?”

  “Executive chef. A real stickler for perfection, but I’ve learned so much from her that I never would have passed the CCC if it wasn’t for her mentoring.”

  “I’m glad you had such a great teacher. I’d like to meet her sometime. Well, I’ll talk to you soon. We should grab a beer some day at Ranchman’s.”

  “Text me when you’re going to be in the city again.” Martin stuck out his hand.

  “Count on it.” Chad shook hands with his buddy.

  “That redhead isn’t looking this way. I won’t have to kiss you goodbye.” Martin grinned, ear-to-ear.

  “Just try it,” warned Chad, laughing as he stuck his Stetson on his head and strode out the door.

  A few minutes later, Chad started his pickup and backed out of his spot at the far end of the parking lot. He crept forward toward the exit. Just as he was about to turn onto the street, a green Honda whipped around the corner and headed straight for him. Chad’s muscles bunched as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel and yanked it to the right. His heart pounded. He slammed on the brakes, and his pickup skidded on the gravel-covered lot. He cursed under his breath and braced himself for the unavoidable collision.

  Metal scraped against metal and the grill and hood on the apple-green compact crumpled like an aluminum pop can before his eyes. The impact of the custom winch installed on the truck destroyed most of the other vehicle’s front end. He heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass as the Honda’s windshield shattered.

  “Shit,” muttered Chad, slamming the gearshift into PARK. His heart raced and his breath caught in his throat. He leapt out of his truck and raced over to the Honda, feeling a trickle of sweat running down his back. He silently prayed no one was injured. “Keep a level head,” he whispered aloud, refusing to succumb to panic in an emergency.

  While hoping for the best, he held his breath and braced himself for the worst.

  Chapter 2

  Chad poked his head through the broken driver’s-side window. “Are you okay?”

  A shocked expression appeared on the woman’s face, but she didn’t utter a word.

  With some difficulty, Chad managed to yank open the car’s wrecked door. He squatted down in front of her. “Can you move?”

  Suddenly, the driver’s expression turned to red-faced anger. “You idiot! You hit my car!” she shouted.

  Chad stumbled backward almost landing on his butt. “Actually, ma’am, you hit me,” he replied while catching his balance and rising to his feet.

  “The hell I did.” The woman attempted to turn in the driver’s seat.

  “I’ll call 9-1-1.” Chad dug in the front pocket of his jeans for his cell phone. “Stay still. You could be injured and not realize it.”

  “I’m fine. What the hell were you thinking?” The string of curse words that followed would make a trucker blush and almost singed Chad’s eyebrows.

  “Don’t move,” he insisted as he eased her slim body back against the seat.

  When the woman’s head flopped onto the headrest Chad’s heart almost stopped. Had she passed out? Was she still breathing?

  “What’s your name, ma’am?” he asked, desperately hoping she’d answer him.

  “Sierra Griffin,” she whispered and then she burst into tears.

  Chad stood, speechless, noticing for the first time the most beautiful set of hazel eyes he’d ever seen. He cringed. A crying woman was his worst nightmare, and he’d prefer she continued swearing at him.

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” asked a male voice at the other end of the line.

  “There’s been a collision in the parking lot of Romeo’s Restaurant on 4th Street in the south-west,” he blurted.

  “Is anyone injured?”

  “I’m not sure. The woman was driving a small compact. She’s conscious and cursing so I think she’s okay, but send an ambulance to be certain.”

  “Please stay on the line, sir. The police and an ambulance are on the way already.”

  “Thank you.” Chad breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the other driver. “Help is on the way, Ms. Griffin,” he said, hoping to reassure the woman who continued crying.

  And he’d thought the redhead in the bar had given him grief. His day had just gotten a lot worse.

  * * *

  An hour later, Chad couldn’t say why he hadn’t just headed home after dealing with the police and giving them his statement. A couple leaving the restaurant had witnessed the entire thing and assured the police he wasn’t to blame. Now that everything had been sorted out, he recalled overhearing the paramedics mention their destination while loading Ms. Griffin into the ambulance. For some inexplicable reason, his pickup had headed to the Rockyview Hospital.

  He strode through the hospital’s emergency department doors and stopped at the front desk.

  “Could you please tell me where I can find…” Chad spotted Sierra Griffin walking down the hospital hallway, heading toward him. “Forget it. Thanks anyway,” he muttered, turning his back on the nurse seated behind the desk.

  He watched Sierra for several seconds, undetected. A purple bruise above one eyebrow peeked out from behind her long blonde wispy bangs, and the dark circles under her eyes suggested the accident had taken a toll. Her face appeared puffy, one side more swollen than the other. Had she been thrown against the steering wheel? He recalled her airbag had been deployed during their collision and that might explain some of it. She walked without hesitation, which suggested her legs hadn’t been harmed. He wondered how her ribs and upper torso had fared.

  She’d been wearing a chef’s coat when they wheeled her atop the gurney into the ambulance. Now, the crumpled jacket was folded over her left arm. She wore a pale pink scooped-neck top and a pair of tight-fitting white jeans. Her right arm swung freely as she continued toward him, moving soundlessly on rubber-soled white clogs. Her purse strap and the long handle, on what he assumed was a leather knife case, were hooked over her ot
her shoulder. She’d screamed blue murder, insisted he dig the thing out of the crumpled car and pass it to her, as they were rolling her into the ambulance. What was it with chefs and their knives? His best friend was obsessed; Chad suspected Martin slept with his.

  And then Sierra spotted him standing beside the counter.

  “You!” she shouted, approaching him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” she gaped, shaking her head. “You destroy my car. You send me to the hospital in an ambulance against my wishes. As if I wasn’t having a bad enough day already...”

  “I’ll pay for the damn ambulance trip, and I’m sorry about your car,” interjected Chad. “But you drove right in front of me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You barreled around the corner and drove right into my truck.” Chad threw up his hands. “There was no way I could avoid you.”

  Sierra opened her mouth, and then she must have thought better of it. Standing there, lips pursed, glaring at him, bruises and all, she looked absolutely beautiful. But the old adage ‘if looks could kill’ popped into his mind. If that were true, he’d be a dead man.

  “If my car requires extensive repairs...”

  “I trust you have insurance…” began Chad.

  “Of course I have insurance,” blurted Sierra. “Why wouldn’t I have insurance?”

  “Forget I mentioned it. Why were you having a bad day?” he inquired and then thought perhaps it wasn’t wise to stick his nose into her personal affairs. “You don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.”

  “You’re right, it isn’t. But just so you know…I quit my job. Now, I don’t have a job and I don’t have a car. How I am I supposed to job hunt until my vehicle is repaired? I don’t know how…”

  “Let me drive you home. You need a good night’s sleep, and then you can worry about all this stuff in the morning.” Chad stepped forward, reached out a hand and gently clasped her elbow, attempting to guide her toward the front doors.

  Sierra pulled her arm back, stumbling slightly. She shook her head. “No thank you. I’ll call a cab.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re about to fall over from exhaustion. I assume the doctor checked you over, and you don’t appear to be in shock. Being involved in a car accident is traumatic, however, and you need to go home and get some rest.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Whatever-your-damn-name-is. But I’ll be fine.” Sierra dug her hand into her purse, but it slipped out of her grasp, landed on the tiled floor, and spilled its contents. “Damn,” she muttered, shifting the leather case out of the way while she knelt to retrieve the items.

  “My name’s Chad Parker.” He crouched down to help her pick up her belongings. “That does it. You’re coming with me. No discussion. No argument.”

  “I’m perfectly capable…”

  “Forget it.” Chad rose to his feet and handed her a small round mirror. At least, it hadn’t broken and saddled her with seven years bad luck on top of everything else.

  Sierra stood and stuffed the mirror into her purse.

  When he’d stood, Chad tried to avert his eyes from her stunning pink top, but he received a clear view of her substantial cleavage and a hint of two beautiful full breasts. He felt his face redden and he avoided her eyes

  “Okay. Okay. Drive me home,” she whispered, sounding defeated.

  Chad noticed the tears that welled in her eyes before she ducked her head. Those beautiful, troubled eyes were almost his undoing. He yearned to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. Gently brush his lips across her bruised forehead. Possess her mouth, kiss all the worries and hurt away. But wisely he controlled himself. Considering how pissed at him she was, he might receive a knee to his groin.

  “I have to call a tow truck and get my car…”

  “After the paramedics drove away with you in the ambulance, I called a tow truck to haul your car to the body shop at the Honda dealership. There was a sticker beside your vehicle’s license plate.”

  “The dealership? Do you know how expensive…”

  “I told the tow truck driver to get someone to sign for it if possible at this time of night. Maybe a security guard is there. Doesn’t matter. I left a note on the windshield that you would contact them in the morning, and they won’t start any work on it until the insurance people look at it. Besides, judging by the vehicle’s age, my guess…it’s a write-off.”

  “Oh, my God.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” he insisted, removing the strap of the heavy knife case from her shoulder and slipping it over his own.

  Sierra nodded her head in resignation, appearing too exhausted for further argument. She clutched her purse to her chest and accompanied him through the sliding glass doors. A gentle drizzle had started to fall and she paused just outside the door. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled the rain-freshened night air, perhaps to cleanse her lungs of the antiseptic hospital smell. She’d argued about the ambulance trip and insisted on leaving as soon as the doctor saw her. Chad decided, for some reason, she had an aversion to hospitals.

  They hurried toward the parking lot, and Chad couldn’t stop himself. He settled his arm around her shoulders, drew her against him, and led her toward his pickup which hadn’t sustained a scratch during the parking lot mishap. As he tightened his hold on her, he felt her entire body shaking. She couldn’t be chilled from the rain already. “Are you certain you shouldn’t have stayed overnight in the hospital?”

  Sierra raised her head, met his eyes. “I hate hospitals. I insisted on coming home.”

  “I suspected as much. The doctor was okay with that?”

  “I told him I lived with my mother.”

  “That’s good.” Chad blew out his breath. He was genuinely worried about her, he admitted to himself. And then he noticed the strange expression that flashed across her face. “You don’t live with your mother, do you?”

  “Well, I did for the first fifteen years of my life. The doctor just assumed I still lived with her.”

  “You’re a bad girl, Sierra.”

  “Nothing short of being in a coma would keep me there overnight.”

  “I’d wager there’s a story that would explain your decision, but I won’t pry.” Chad unlocked and opened the passenger door and helped Sierra inside. He hurried around to the driver’s side and climbed in.

  “I live in the Southwest near the Lake Bonavista Recreation Center on Acadia Drive,” she informed him while clicking her seatbelt into place.

  “House or apartment block?”

  “Basement apartment in a house.”

  “Who lives upstairs?” he inquired while fastening his own seatbelt and starting the truck.

  “My best girlfriend, Diane, her husband, and their little girl.”

  “Are they home?”

  Silence.

  “Are your friends going to be home tonight?” he continued to push.

  “Not...exactly.”

  “What does that mean, Sierra?”

  “Diane and Neil are in Vegas for another few days. Catherine is staying with her granny.”

  “So, who’s at home to watch over you tonight?”

  “Barney,” she answered without hesitation.

  Chad noticed she’d turned and stared out the window after answering him. “Who is Barney?”

  Silence.

  “Who the hell is Barney, Sierra? Your boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?”

  “My dog,” she whispered.

  Chad burst into laughter. “Oh, Sierra.”

  “What?” She shifted in her seat.

  Chad’s hand reached out and turned her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Can Barney use the telephone? Have you taught him to dial 9-1-1?”

  “Barney is a very smart dog.” Sierra’s lips twitched and Chad realized she was fighting back a smile. She added, “He might figure it out in an emergency.”

  * * *

&nbs
p; Sierra dumped a sheet, a blanket, and a pillow on her living room sofa. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to let a total stranger spend the night in her home. The same stranger who’d probably totaled her car. The same man who’d insisted she travel to the hospital in an ambulance as a precaution. She swallowed hard. The same devilishly-handsome guy who’d almost stopped her heart when he peered through her car window moments after the accident.

  She’d never forget the first time she stared into those sparkling blue eyes. His curly, dark hair skimmed his shoulders in back and his killer smile turned her bones to mush. Tall, dark, handsome and thoughtful. Had she just won the new-man-in-your-life lottery?

  Here he was stretched out on her sofa, intending to spend the night in case she required medical attention. Her heart raced every time she looked at him. Cowboys had always been this Alberta-born-and-raised city girl’s weakness. She couldn’t count the number of nights she drank beer with her girlfriends at a western bar and two-stepped the night away in the arms of a hunky guy wearing a Stetson and cowboy boots. She might require a paramedic to restart her heart if this cowboy remained under her roof all night and smiled at her every time she engaged him in conversation.

  “Just ignore him,” she mumbled, aloud.

  “Did you say something?”

  Sierra grimaced, thinking on her feet. “Barney. If he tries to hop onto the sofa with you during the night, just ignore him.”

  “He doesn’t sleep with you?” Chad’s right eyebrow rose as he asked the question.

  “Every night. But you might be a novelty,” blurted Sierra before she could stop herself. Great! She’d just admitted he was the only male she’d had in her apartment since…forever.

  “I love dogs. If Barney wants to snuggle I don’t have any objections.” Chad reached out and ruffled the black cocker spaniel’s furry ears. Chad stood, tucked the sheet in along the cushions, added the blanket, and placed the pillow at the far end.

  “I’m sorry. That sofa isn’t very long. And you’re six feet tall at least.”