Running Blind Read online

  She spun back around, and the expression on her face was almost evil, it was so smug. “Yes?” She tilted her head, waiting.

  She knew, damn it. She knew why he was here and she was going to make him beg. The bad thing was, he would beg, if that’s what it took. That’s what he’d been reduced to, but he couldn’t keep on the way he was going. All the hands would quit, and he couldn’t blame them. Hell, he might even quit himself. “The new girl—Carly. If she’s interested, I could use her at the ranch,” he said grudgingly, and added, “Temporarily, of course.”

  One of the customers stood and headed for the cash register. Kat held up a finger to silently tell Zeke to wait while she rang up the ticket. She even engaged in a little light conversation, almost as if she were purposely making Zeke wait. “Almost?” There was no “almost” to it. She downright enjoyed torturing him.

  But within a few minutes she was back. She leaned against the counter, smug smile still in place. “You were saying?”

  “Damn it, Kat,” he growled under his breath. “I’m desperate. I’ve got to get someone to fill in until Spencer is able to take on the cooking duties again, even if it is a blonde who …”

  “Who what?” Kat prodded when he stopped himself before he said too much.

  He needed to have his head examined. No, he needed someone like Libby, or a man who could cook. What he didn’t need was a sassy blonde living in the same house, one who made him hard and pissed him off at the same time. Kat thought she was torturing him? She was nothing compared to what having Cautious Carly in his house would be like, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “What do you know about her? I’ll run her references when I get a chance, but until then—”

  Kat’s smile vanished. She gave him a long, level stare. “We have to talk about that.”

  Oh, fuck. He’d known something was up with Miss Cautious, and Kat had just confirmed it.

  She disappeared into the kitchen, and was soon back with a plate of some chicken and gravy and rice dish that had his mouth watering on sight.

  “Eat first,” she said. “Then we’ll talk.”

  It didn’t bode well that she was trying to make sure he was in a good mood before they continued the conversation.

  She left him to eat in peace while she checked on her other customers, refilled cups and glasses. Then she waited until they left before she came back, which told him she wanted privacy for this conversation.

  What the hell was he getting himself into?

  What choice did he have?

  CARLIN KNEW ZEKE Decker was in the restaurant. She’d heard his voice, distant but distinct, as soon as he’d come in. His tone was low, but deep and kind of raspy, probably from barking orders all day long. Or maybe it was like the voice of doom. Yeah, that was a great comparison. She was glad today she was the one cooking the daily special—Kat’s recipe, but an easy one for her to get in some practice—instead of working the counter. The last thing she wanted to do was wait on that ass who’d callously called her a “stray,” and wouldn’t consider hiring her even though, according to Kat, he desperately needed someone out at his ranch. Not that she wanted to work for him, but it was the principle of the thing.

  Then Kat stuck her head into the kitchen. “Hey, turn the heat off under everything and come on out here for a minute, okay?” Carlin’s heart jumped, which was a stupid thing for it to do, but evidently cardiac muscles just had impulses, not brains.

  She took a deep breath and turned everything off, then washed her hands and thoroughly dried them—twice—before she left the kitchen.

  The first thing she saw was that Zeke was the only customer there. It was a little early for the regular lunch customers, and the last of the breakfast crowd had left. Zeke had cleaned his plate and had a half-eaten piece of apple pie sitting in front of him.

  He looked at her as if he was very unhappy with what he saw. He did everything but growl. Yeah, well, let him try to look nice wearing a gravy-stained apron and a hairnet; she gave him back as good as she got, all but snarling at him.

  Kat glared at him, and rapped her knuckles on the counter to emphasize her point. “Before I start, you have to promise me that everything we say to you will remain confidential.”

  His scowl got even darker, and he groaned as he rubbed his face. “Shit. This can’t be good.”

  “Promise,” Kat insisted. “Or this won’t go an inch further and you can go look somewhere else for a cook.”

  What? Carlin shook her head in protest. She didn’t want to go cook for Grumpy and his not-so-merry band of cowboys. This was so not a good idea. She glared at him. And exactly what was Kat going to tell him? Surely not about—

  He glared back, but said, “Fine. I promise.” He didn’t sound happy about it, but Kat seemed to be satisfied.

  She got straight to the point. “Carlin has some trouble of the stalker variety. She needs to stay completely off the grid for a while.”

  “Kat!” Appalled, Carlin stared at her. So much for keeping her name a secret. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on it, because Carly and Carlin sounded so much alike, but she glanced at him to find him staring at her with an intensity that told her he’d noticed, all right.

  Kat raised her hand to forestall any more protests. “Trust me,” she said. “He can help.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  “His situation has gotten worse, and now you’re in the driver’s seat because he needs you more than you need him,” Kat said, gloating even though Zeke was sitting right there listening to everything she said. She smiled. He made a sound in his throat that might be a growl.

  Zeke was already shaking his head. “I can’t believe this. The last thing I need is to take on another problem—”

  Kat snorted. “Yeah, because you’re doing so well on your own. Carlin can cook and clean, and the ranch would be the perfect place for her to lay low for a few months.” Her hands went out and up. “Win-win.”

  “I just need someone for a few weeks, until Spencer’s out of his sling. And I sure as hell don’t need anyone who has to lay low.”

  “And why would I be laying low at the ranch anyway?” Carlin asked. “Why couldn’t I stay here and drive out to the ranch every day? Assuming I wanted to work for him anyway, which I don’t, me being a stray and all. We strays don’t like to work hard.” She curled her lip at him to let him know exactly how much she appreciated his choice of words, which was zero, zip, nada.

  But Kat shook her head. “It’s a long drive, at least an hour, that you don’t want to be making twice a day, especially at night. You’d have to get up at three-something in the morning to get to the ranch in time to have breakfast ready, and wouldn’t get home until ten, eleven at night, sometimes. It just wouldn’t work, not even when the weather’s good. The days are getting short now, and once winter rolls around the roads can get pretty icy. This is definitely a live-in job.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And besides, I stay upstairs in the winter when the roads are bad.”

  Yeah, she’d mentioned that before, but Carlin had settled into the attic room and gotten so used to it she’d forgotten. “Oh.” So it was all or nothing. She had to choose Grumpy, or she had to hit the road.

  “From what I hear, Spencer wasn’t doing such a great job before his accident, anyway,” Kat continued, turning her attention back to Zeke, determined to force this situation in the direction she wanted.

  “Maybe he wasn’t, but no one has gone hungry.” An unspoken “yet” hung in the air. Then he admitted defeat, his scowl deepening. “Damn it, if I had any other choice, I wouldn’t even consider—”

  Carlin lifted a hand to cut him off. She’d heard enough. Maybe—probably—she should have her head examined, but instead of deterring her his reluctance had the opposite effect. She wanted to work for him, but on her terms, not his. She wanted to make him eat his words—which, honestly, might taste better than her cooking. She was learning, but learning was the operative word. And Kat was right. This was a near-perfect, short-ter