Magic Wand Ranch Page 4

  The back door slammed open. "Miss Fiona? Where are you?"

  She tossed aside the towel she was folding and hustled out to where the boys were. "What's wrong?"

  "It's bad." Mitchell bent over double as he struggled to catch his breath.

  Fiona's eyes widened. She turned her attention to his brother. "Tell me what's wrong, Brian." Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, God, was it Cody? Had something happened to him? "Is something wrong with your uncle?"

  Brian nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

  But something in the way his eyes sparkled warned Fiona they were having her on. She blew out a deep breath, willing her heart to stop racing. "What's wrong with him?"

  "He's hungry." Mitchell burst into a fit of giggles.

  Fiona rolled her eyes. "Funny, you both got me. Now, is he the only one who's hungry? Because if you're not, then I'd suggest you head into your room and start straightening up."

  This sobered the two little cowboys up quickly.

  "I'm near starvation," Brian said. "Mitchell too."

  "You'll need to wash up, both of you." She ignored their frowns. "Go do that and then come show me your sparkling clean hands."

  Brian furrowed his brow. "Boys don't have sparkling hands."

  She couldn't help but smile. "Fine. Go wash and then come show me your regular old clean hands, okay?"

  Once she heard the water running, Fiona took a quick inventory of the refrigerator. The contents weren't exactly sparse but it was evident that Cody didn't harbor dreams of becoming a master chef if the cowboy thing didn't work out. Not that her culinary skills were anything to brag about. Take-out was her personal specialty.

  She pulled out a package of hot dogs. Hadn't she seen a barbeque grill on the back deck? She was sure she had. But she was also sure that she didn't want to light the grill and then watch as Bethany's boys found a way to burn down the house. She put the hot dogs back and pulled out a package of bacon and a carton of eggs instead.

  As the bacon sizzled in the frying pan, Fiona whipped a dozen eggs into the same frenzied state that her mind was in. She knew the fate of the eggs, her own she wasn't so sure about. What was she really doing here?

  Two tornados disguised as little boys tore through the kitchen. Fiona jumped between a curious Brian and the stove, clutching a wooden spoon as her only line of defense. "Be careful. The stove is hot."

  "We want to help."

  Exactly what she was afraid of. "That's great. But do you know what would really help me? If you would set the table."

  "Boring."

  Fiona did her best to raise one eyebrow the way her mother had done years ago. Judging by Mitchell's unimpressed expression, she had some practicing to do. "It's not boring to me. I still don't know where everything is."

  Mitchell shrugged. "Okay, I'll do it."

  "I'll take care of the bacon," Brian said from behind her.

  Fiona whirled around to see that the five-year-old had managed to get behind her and he had one hand on the frying pan's handle. He held a fork in the other hand. He was still short enough that he had to reach up to get a good grip on the pan, which meant that with one false move he was apt to bring the hot contents down.

  "That's so helpful of you." She kept her voice low and calm as if she was talking him off a ledge. She took a step closer, anxious not to startle him. "May I please have a look?"

  Brian stood back just enough so that she could lean over the stove but he kept his grip firmly on the frying pan.

  "Can I show you how I flip the bacon with a fork?" Fiona asked. To her immense relief, he nodded and relinquished his hold on the pan.

  Fiona sagged with relief once she regained control of the hot stovetop. She'd never given much thought to the intricacies of child care but she was rapidly beginning to believe that mothers of young child should be given combat pay in addition to three paid weeks of vacation a year. She glanced up and through the window over the sink. Cody was walking toward the house. A ripple of excitement ran through her at the sight of him.

  "It's my turn, let go."

  Brian's muffled answer meant a tussle was afoot.

  Fiona moved the bacon onto the back burner and turned around to diffuse the disagreement. "Boys, what are you-" but a half gallon of orange juice, without the lid on, flew out of the boys' hands and doused her in sticky citrus juice, effectively answering her question.

  "Uh, oh," Mitchell said. "We didn't mean for that to happen."

  Fiona wiped a few droplets from her face. The front of her shirt was drenched. She closed her eyes. This was a test. Not one she understood, but one she wanted to pass. She opened her eyes. "I know you didn't. But we've got to get this cleaned up." She quickly unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, fortunately her tank top was still dry. "I want you both to go into the laundry room and get some rags. I'm going to change my shirt and then we'll take care of this."

  She turned back to the stove, turned off the burners, and then washed her hands in the sink. When she turned back around she was surprised to see the boys hadn't moved. They were rooted in place, their eyes wide.

  Cody stood in the doorway. His expression mirrored the shock on his nephews' faces.

  "Cody, what's wrong?"

  His eyes didn't leave hers. He took off his hat and held it over his chest. "It's your...um...we saw your, uh-"

  But Mitchell didn't wait for his uncle to find the right words. "Miss Fiona, why do you have wings?"

  Chapter Six

  Cody swung his pick-up into the only empty spot in the parking lot and cut the engine. He wasn't sure if taking Fiona out to dinner was apology enough for how uncomfortable he and the boys had made her feel about her tattoo but he hoped it would be a start. He was no expert on women but he could have sworn that he saw sheer panic flash through her eyes when Mitchell had asked if she had wings. Though why she'd have a fearful reaction, he couldn't fathom. It couldn't possibly come as a surprise to her that the intricate design of her tattoo looked like wings.

  He unfastened his seat belt and turned to face her. "Ready for some of the best barbeque east of the Rio Grande?"

  Fiona peered up at the glowing red neon sign. "The Deep Pit," she read aloud before turning to look at him. "Quite the name, isn't it?"

  Her smile set his heart to racing. He couldn't help but smile in return. Fiona Cantrell was like no woman he'd ever met before. Cody was shy, normally more confident around horses than ladies, but there was something about Fiona that made him feel at ease. Which should make him uneasy, he reasoned, but somehow it didn't. "Twenty bucks says that in two hours you'll tell me it's the best barbeque you've ever tasted."

  "No deal." She popped open her door and slid out of the truck. "That's a sucker's bet considering that I've never eaten barbeque before."

  He hopped down from the driver's seat and reached into the backseat to help his nephews out. "How's that even possible?" he asked her. "Unless you've been living in a penthouse somewhere where they only serve fancy finger food?" As he spoke he realized that he had no idea what part of the country she originally hailed from. "Where's home, anyway?"

  "Here and there. It's a long story." She flashed him another shy smile and reached out for Brian's hand. "I'm not the only one who's hungry, am I?"

  The Deep Pit was at its usual near capacity crowd but they didn't have to wait more than ten minutes for a table. The atmosphere was sawdust-on-the-floor casual. Honky tonk music played in the background, accompanied by the familiar chaotic sounds of a family restaurant. Cody held a chair out for Fiona, waited while the boys sat on either side of her, and then he took the seat opposite her. Before they'd left the house, he'd secured a promise from both boys that they would issue Fiona a world class apology. And it was a promise he intended for them to keep.

  "Isn't there something you two want to say to our guest?" he prompted them.

  Brian slid down a few inches in his chair and shot his older brother a worried look. Mitchell, however, appeared undaunted.

 
"Miss Fiona, wouldn't you like an ice cold beer?"

  Before Cody could recover from his surprise and think of how to respond to such an outrageous detour from the agreed upon script, Fiona clapped her hands together and laughed.

  "Oh, Mitchell, I just never know what you're going to say or do next."

  Cody shook his head. "I guess that's a part of his charm."

  "A big part," she agreed. "Now, to answer your question, I've actually never had a beer but I'm up for trying it."

  The arrival of their waitress gave Cody an opportunity to hide his surprise at her admission. He didn't think he'd ever met anyone who hadn't ever drank a beer before, but while this had caught him off guard perhaps it shouldn't have. Fiona was unlike the women he was used to. She was beautiful without being overtly glamorous, polished without being even a bit pretentious, and somehow she came across as both gentle and strong. A woman in a million.

  After he placed an order for two longnecks and two glasses of lemonade, he forced himself to focus on what really needed to happen. "Mitchell, Brian, isn't there something you'd like to say to Miss Fiona?" he prompted them again.

  "We're sorry about ruining your dress," Brian kicked off the litany of their misdeeds that required apologies. "I tripped on the rug."

  "And I'm sorry I turned the hose on you," his brother added. "But we thought we were doing a good thing by giving the dogs a bath."

  "Oh, don't forget the orange juice." Brian was clearly warming to the topic. "We got your shirt all wet and the floor was really sticky, wasn't it?" He sounded more proud of that than contrite.

  "I appreciate your apologies," Fiona told them. "I know your intentions were good. I happen to believe that's what matters most."

  Mitchell leaned forward, his face earnest. "We're also sorry for asking about your wings. Uncle Cody told us that was none of our business." He shot a glance at Cody, who nodded in agreement.

  "It almost looks like you could fly," Brian threw in.

  "Boys, enough, what did we talk about at home?" Cody chided them. Honestly, no one could hold a candle to these two in the impertinence department. "Your mom sent Fiona here to help us out, not to be grilled. Got it?" Once they both nodded, he turned his attention to Fiona. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," she said.

  Still, it didn't escape his notice that she drew her sweater a bit closer around her. He could certainly understand her reluctance to have her tattoo discussed so brazenly when they'd all only just met. But he could also understand his nephews' fascination. He'd never seen anything in all of his life as amazing as the delicately etched design that looked like it covered her entire back. Perhaps it had been the light playing a trick, but it was almost as if the wings were made of gold. The boys swore they thought her tattoo actually glimmered, and a part of him agreed even though it couldn't be possible.

  He took a long sip of beer and forced himself to look away from Fiona. He was a confirmed bachelor, more committed to the rodeo circuit than to the idea of settling down. His attraction to any woman, even one as flat out amazing as Fiona, was a distraction he couldn't afford. It was a good thing he was pulling out for Tucson in a couple of days.

  Their meal was over way too quickly. He and the boys enjoyed watching Fiona try to delicately eat her ribs with a knife and fork. They'd given her a round of applause when she finally gave up and set her utensils aside. She was an absolute natural with the kids, not to mention pleasant and engaging when several friends had come over to say hello. As Cody settled the bill, he realized that he'd enjoyed the evening far more than any other.

  Neither could he remember ever having met anyone who managed to bob, weave, and duck questions about herself like Fiona managed to. Despite his efforts, he'd learned exactly nothing about her. Just how much did his sister actually know about Fiona? He decided to give her a call right after he got the boys to bed.

  But that particular task proved to be nearly impossible. The boys refused to stay in bed. Trying to get them down for the night had been like one of those annoying county fair games where you'd whack one mole and another would pop up.

  "They behaved beautifully at the restaurant." Fiona plopped down next to him on the front porch steps, her second-ever bottle of beer in hand. "Maybe they just need to get their pent-up energy out?"

  "A very diplomatic explanation for the insanity that has occurred within the last hour and a half." Cody leaned back on his elbows and turned to look at her. "Do you have a background in diplomacy by any chance?"

  She laughed. "Sorry, no, but I've worked with a fair share of my clients who needed careful handling, I guess you could say. But kids are pretty new to me."

  "Me too. As you can see, they're kicking my backside."

  "Don't be so hard on yourself. I think you're doing great."

  "Thanks." He felt oddly pleased by her praise. And also equally concerned. "Look, I know my sister asked you to come take care of the boys, and I think it's great that you were willing. But they're a handful, at the best of times." He watched as she took a sip of from her beer bottle. Her hands were delicate, and her neck was long and graceful. He forced himself to look away. "I'm worried about leaving you alone here with them."

  "I thought you said that your ranch manager and his wife were going to be here the whole time."

  He nodded. "Well, yeah, they will be. And in an emergency they'll do whatever they can to help you out but I'm more concerned about the day to day craziness."

  "It's quiet now."

  It was at that. The boys must have finally fallen asleep. Perhaps being chased back to bed fourteen times had exhausted them. It had him.

  "I can do this, Cody. I know it's scary for you to leave Mitchell and Brian with someone you don't know well but I'll guard them with my life."

  He sat up and turned to face her. He didn't want to leave her in a situation where she was in over her head. Heck, he didn't want to leave her, period. "That's not what I'm worried about."

  "So what exactly is the problem?"

  His shrug was far more casual than his inner turmoil felt. "I guess I want to be in two places at once."

  "It's that important that you go?"

  He nodded. "The chance to score the prize money isn't something I can afford to pass up. And if I win, it'll seal a very lucrative promotional deal."

  "Then you should go."

  "Yeah, but rodeo is a sport that requires intense concentration." His gaze held hers. "I can't compete if I'm worried about leaving you behind here."

  "I get how important this is to you. Bethany knew that too if she went to all the trouble to arrange for me to be here." She reached over and gently touched his arm. "You should go, Cody. We'll wait here for you."

  Fiona's words radiated empathy, and her voice was warm and encouraging. Sitting that close to her, with her attention solely focused on him, felt like she was casting a spell on him. Which, Cody later decided, was the reason he opened his mouth and said the last thing he expected to hear himself say.

  "Come with me, Fiona. You and the boys." He took a deep breath for courage. "We'll all go to Tucson together."

  A huge smile spread across her face. "You're sure?"

  He nodded, although the only thing he was sure of at that exact moment in time was that her smile was a beautiful sight.

  "Do you think the boys would enjoy going?"

  "Would they ever, are you kidding?" He reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He felt her shiver as his hand gently brushed her cheek. "Will you come?"

  She hesitated for only a moment. "I'd love to."

  He grinned. "Perfect."

  But that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he decided that the idea wasn't perfect. It was perfectly stupid. How on earth was he going to focus on competing if he couldn't take his mind off of Fiona? This wasn't his first rodeo. He knew exactly what happened to anyone who tried to go eight seconds if they weren't two thousand percent focused on their ride.

  He rolled over
and punched his pillow. As much as it galled him, first thing in the morning he was going to have to tell Fiona that he'd changed his mind. Spending near on a week in such close proximity to her was impossible. There was no way it would work.

  Chapter Seven

  "Of course, it will work." Fiona put her hands on her hips and stared at the pile of luggage waiting to be packed into the back of the truck. "Let me try."

  Cody jumped down from the truck's bed. "Fine, if you've got a magic wand, then wave it."

  Fiona resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As if he knew anything about magic wands. But they were running late and the last thing she felt like doing was arguing with him. Correction, the last thing she felt like doing was leaving some of her luggage in Texas when she needed it in Arizona. She'd nearly lost her mind trying to keep Mitchell and Brian under control when she'd taken them into town to shop with her. Who knew that spinning racks of clothing and dashing around the store while managing to touch every single item for sale was something little boys liked to do?

  But she'd managed to keep them from being arrested and locked up in juvenile detention, and she'd put together a new wardrobe worthy of a rodeo queen. She certainly wasn't about to concede defeat now.

  "Fiona, we've got to leave in the next twenty minutes or we're going to get behind schedule." Cody stared down at her three suitcases. "Just pick one of them, for crying out loud."

  "Are you two having a fight?" Brian asked.

  "No." Fiona and Cody spoke in perfect unison.

  "Sure looks like it from here," Mitchell called from the front porch steps. He leaned over and whispered something into his brother's ear. Whatever it was set Brian off in a fit of giggles.

  Fiona turned back to Cody. She could only deal with one male at a time. "I'm taking all three cases so if you really want to get on the road, I'd suggest that you find a way to squeeze them in with all of your paraphernalia."