Under the Cowboy's Control Read online

  He released her instantly and stepped back. "There's your breakfast. I'll be back here for my lunch at one o'clock sharp. Have it ready." He turned and strolled to the door. Then he turned back to face her. "And Selena. If you know what's good for you, you won't leave this house."

  He turned and walked out.

  Chapter Three

  Selena stared at the door he had closed and wished she wasn't here. She lifted her arm and threw her pillow at it. She didn't want to be his little charity case. She didn't want him taking her hand and pulling her this way and that. She didn't want him grabbing her chin and pinching her. She didn't want him ordering her around constantly, expecting to be obeyed. She didn't want the knots in her tummy every time he walked in the room.

  She prayed for patience, and then realized she was free of this room. Finally! She jumped up, ate her breakfast and quickly went out to the kitchen.

  After Selena thoroughly inspected the kitchen, all the appliances, and the stock of food, she went to the computer to look at recipes. She found a cookbook, but of course, it was in English. One thing at a time. She would tackle that later. For now, she was going to show that hateful man that she could cook.

  At ten o'clock, she was leaning over the oven, taking a batch of brownies out when she heard the door slam. A slim, attractive man about her age stood there, holding his bleeding hand and staring at her. She vaguely recognized him from the first day when she was in the bunkhouse.

  Busted. There was no way he wouldn't identify her as a woman. Her hair streamed down her back, and she was wearing the tighter of her two shirts. It molded her breasts. She tentatively smiled at him.

  "Holy shit." Clinton was smart, and he assessed the situation immediately. "You clean up pretty good there, Manuel."

  Selena laughed. "Si. Gracias." She placed the brownies on top of the oven to cool, and decided to try out the English Travis insisted she learn. "My n-name is Selena." She took a wet dishcloth and walked over to him. "You bleed? Come."

  Clinton followed her over to the sink, the wet cloth under his hand. She turned on the cold tap, and he put his hand underneath the stream. She stood back while he washed the cut. "It is bad, no?"

  "Nah. It's a puncture wound, that's all. It's deep, but not jagged. I don't need stitches or anything." He took his hand from the sink and began to apply pressure with the wet cloth.

  "This is good." She began to cut the brownies into squares, while he studied her and continued to apply pressure to the wound.

  She lifted two brownies out of the pan and wrapped them in a napkin to give to him when he left. It was her experience that all men liked brownies and appreciated something nice when they were hurt.

  Curiosity and interest sparked, he turned to face her. "Is the boss keeping you hidden for a reason?"

  She didn't understand the question. "S-sorry?" She stumbled over the word. She heard a door click behind her.

  Clinton continued. "Do you belong to him? Did he stake his claim already?"

  Selena realized what he was asking and immediately blushed. "N-no."

  "Yes." A voice barked from behind her.

  Selena jumped at the sound of Travis's voice and confusion wrinkled her brow as she turned toward him.

  He prowled up to them. "What the hell are you doing in here, Clinton? I don't pay you to hang out in my house all day." His words were low, but menacing.

  "Hurt my hand, Boss." He lifted the cloth and showed him the blood. "But I'm gonna live, thanks for askin'."

  Travis grunted and focused his attention on Selena.

  Selena sensed the antagonism between the two men and didn't entirely understand it. She tried to diffuse it by holding the brownies toward Clinton. "H-here."

  Clinton smiled at her and accepted her offering. "Thanks, Selena."

  She smiled back at the young man. " De nada." Selena felt Travis bristle beside her. "Um, you are wel--welcome."

  Clinton didn't take his eyes off her as he bit into the warm brownie. His eyes glazed over and he pretended to swoon. "Oh my God. That is so good." He ignored Travis and dramatically put his hand over his heart. "Will you marry me, Selena?"

  She stood there, confused for a moment, until she figured out he was teasing her.

  She laughed softly and pointed to the door. "Go."

  Travis crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Clinton. "Yes, go."

  Clinton gave her one last smile and left the house.

  Selena did her best to ignore Travis and continued to cut the brownies. His large, dark presence was intimidating.

  Finally, he spoke. "How long was he in here?"

  Selena turned to get a plate for the brownies and tried to answer him. "Little bit."

  "A little while? He was in here for a little while?" He was angry and he pushed the words out one at a time.

  Selena lowered her voice and mimicked him. "He was in here for a little while."

  "You're getting brave all of a sudden, Angel. Do you think that's very wise?" Travis felt the lust, rage, and jealousy swamp him. The lust and the rage he understood.

  The jealousy just pissed him off. He had never been jealous in his whole goddamned life.

  No, Selena didn't think it was very wise and didn't know what had come over her.

  She ought to be thankful to this man for helping her, but his arrogance and superiority made her angry. She tried to hold her ground, but failed and she took one step away from him.

  It was enough to set off the predator in him. He took one step toward her.

  Her eyes flared.

  Travis felt the muscles in his stomach involuntarily tighten. He was close to losing control. "Don't run from me, Selena." His voice was a deep growl, and it sent tremors of unease through Selena. "I guarantee that I will catch you, and you won't like the results. Just stay here like a big girl and we will finish this conversation."

  His words made her panic even more. Her breathing fractured, and she desperately wanted to turn and run. But now she couldn't even do that.

  He watched her valiantly trying to hold her ground, while her chest heaved with her effort.

  He took one step closer and she shut her eyes tight. He stopped.

  What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't touch her. He could not fucking touch her. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, trying to get a grip.

  When he opened them, she was quietly watching him, her arms wrapped around herself, as in protection. He took a deep breath. "Just stay away from Clinton. I don't need all the men fighting over you. I don't want them chasing you around like a bitch in heat."

  She gasped. Her eyes welled with tears.

  "Fuck. Just stay the fuck away from Clinton." He turned and slammed back out of the house. Frustration clawed through him. He spent the rest of the morning fighting himself. He took his rage out on anyone that came within a hundred yards of him.

  At one o'clock on the dot, he walked back into the house. There were three large grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and a bowl of soup at the table. A jug of iced tea and the plate of brownies sat beside them.

  Selena was absent from the kitchen.

  He sat down, drank a whole glass of iced tea, and then polished off all the sandwiches and the soup. He picked up a large brownie, swallowed it whole, and walked out of the kitchen.

  She wasn't in the living room.

  He went down the hall to the bedrooms. She wasn't in her room. She wasn't in her bathroom.

  " Goddammmit."

  He came back into the living room and looked around. The front door was unlocked, so he walked over and opened it. She sat on the porch swing, her face turned away from the house, looking off into the distance.

  She continued to look away from him when he walked over and stood in front of her.

  Travis cleared his throat. He had managed to get his anger and frustration in control. He knew he had been rough on her. "Lunch was good. Thank you."

  She didn't turn to face him, but she nodded her head in acknowledgeme
nt.

  Travis tried again. "Selena. I'm sorry."

  At that, she turned and looked at him. "Y-you hate me."

  "No, no Angel, I don't. I don't hate you at all." His words were apologetic.

  "You are m-mean." Her voice shook.

  Travis hung his head. "Yes. I'm mean. I've been an ass. I'm sorry. You're a sweet girl, and I've been mean to you."

  "Why?"

  He looked closely at her. "Why do you think?"

  Her eyes were troubled. "I am Mexican."

  He laughed softly at that and shook his head in denial. "Nope. That's not it." He savored the same naiveté that made it impossible for him to have her.

  "Why?" She searched his face for an answer.

  Travis sighed and sat on the swing beside her. He put one arm on the wooden back behind her. He turned his body to face her. "Selena, do you know anything about men?"

  Selena thought about the question. "A little while."

  Travis smiled and reached his hand over and tugged a lock of her hair. "A little bit?

  You know a little bit about men?"

  Selena felt his hand on her hair and forgot to speak English. " Si."

  Travis got tangled in her gaze and felt his hand wrap around her long hair. He lowered his voice and whispered, "How much do you know about men?"

  Selena felt lightning spear through her from his touch and his whispered words. He was so good looking. He was so big, so handsome. Her breath caught and she couldn't form an answer.

  Travis put his mouth to her ear and breathed in her scent. She trembled in his arms. He whispered in her ear, "Did you know that when a man wants something really badly, if he doesn't get it, he can act spoiled and mean?"

  She hung still in his arms, shaking all over.

  He lifted his face from her shimmering hair and stared deeply in her eyes. "Did you know that, Selena?"

  She looked at him, watching her so closely and whispered, "No."

  He slowly let go of her hair, gently leaned over and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "That's what I was afraid of."

  He gave her one last, all encompassing look, then stood up, walked back in the house, and left her in the swing.

  That evening, at six o'clock, Selena pulled the enchiladas out of the oven. Tonight, she wasn't going to hide from him like she had at lunchtime.

  The things he said had enthralled her. The way he acted. The way he smelled.

  She wanted to know if he would be nice to her again.

  She ran to her room and brushed her hair and brushed her teeth. She put a touch of moisturizer on her face and then went back to wait for him. It was all she could do without any makeup at all. She didn't even have a lipstick.

  Selena didn't know when he would be back, so she decided to try to research her paternal grandparents on the internet. She didn't have much to go by, but she took the old Bible and her papers to the computer and spread them out. She made a few quick Google searches and scanned the screen.

  She didn't get any further than that before she heard him slam through the back door.

  She jumped up to meet him.

  She ran in the kitchen, but came to a standstill when she saw the men gathered there. All six men looked at her, and then one by one, they took their hats off.

  Selena noted the mark of respect and made a slight inclination of her head.

  " Buenas tardes."

  Clinton smiled and said, "Told ya'll."

  Juan stepped forward and replied, " Buenas tardes, Senorita."

  Selena felt a shaft of regret at the lie she had spoken to him. She owed him an apology. " Lo siento, Juan."

  Juan shook his head at her and smiled. " Es no problema, Senorita."

  Selena gave a slight curtsy. " Gracias, Juan."

  Clinton stepped forward and said, "I'll make the introductions. Selena, these are the guys. Guys, meet Selena, the prettiest brownie maker this side of Laredo. You know Juan, and Jim, our foreman, but this guy here is Gus." He pointed out a tall man, easily four or five inches over six feet.

  Selena replied, "Gus."

  Clinton continued, "This is Curley." Curley was a short, bald man.

  Selena replied, "Curley."

  "And finally, last but not least, this is Slim. Slim is our cook. He feeds all of us and definitely needs that brownie recipe." Slim was a large, rotund man.

  Selena smiled at the crack about the brownies. "Slim."

  The door slammed again and Travis walked in from the mudroom. Goddamnit!

  Every one of his men were ogling Selena. He didn't need this tonight. He was bruised and tired from wrangling with that damn demented bull he had bought last spring. Son of a bitch got caught in the barbed wire and he had hell getting him loose. He was sweaty, his shirt was ripped to shreds, and he was starving. Lunch was a long time ago, and he could smell something awesome coming from the table. His stomach growled loudly.

  "All right. Show's over. Ya'll have all met her. Shove off." He motioned his head to the front door.

  Gus spoke up. "You get to have homemade enchiladas and we get to eat Slim's foul excuse for beef stew?" His words were sullen.

  Travis took his hat off and ran his fingers threw his sweaty hair. "Yeah, that's right.

  She can't cook for everybody. She's not strong enough. She's been hurt. Ya'll will live with Slim's cooking. You always have."

  One by one, all of them grumbling, the hired hands took a last look at her and started to tip their hats and file out.

  Selena felt sorry for them, and bad because she had lied to them all. "W-wait." She turned and went to the counter by the window and picked up a pan full of chocolate chip cookies that she had made for tomorrow. She could always make more.

  She walked over to them, and since Jim was the closest one to her, she held out the offering. She tried the words out on her tongue. "Cookies for ya'll." The southern colloquialism slid from her mouth just like she was a native. She heard her own voice and laughter danced from her eyes.

  Travis stood and watched six grown, hardworking cowboys fall under Selena's spell. They silently watched her, each and every one enchanted with the young girl.

  Jim reached out and took the pan and all the guys started thanking her at once.

  She blushed, nodded her head, and turned back to the stove as they all filed out the door, happy now with her gift.

  When the door slammed shut behind them, Travis spoke. "You gave away my damn cookies." But there was no anger in his voice.

  She turned back from wiping the cook top and nodded her head in confirmation.

  Travis put the episode behind him and pulled the ripped t-shirt over his head and threw it in the small wicker trashcan next to the table. "Damned bull ruined my shirt."

  Selena stood staring at the large expanse of naked male flesh while he turned back to the mudroom and grabbed another shirt. When he turned back he spoke.

  "I'm starving. I'm going to go take a quick shower and I'll be ready to eat in ten minutes."

  He walked down the hall toward his bedroom and Selena started breathing again.

  When he came back to the table after showering, Selena had her emotions more in control.

  He sat at the table and she served his food. The supplies in the house weren't limitless, but she had managed a decent, filling meal. Her mother would roll over in her grave if she knew about the shortcuts Selena had taken, but although the meal wasn't authentic, it was the best she could do with what was on hand.

  Travis looked at the feast in front of him and thought he had died and gone to heaven. The smells coming from the enchiladas, rice and beans were wafting up to his nose and hitting his stomach.

  A steady diet of Slim's cooking had left him fed up and wanting more. Slim knew how to cook three things. Stew, chili, and pot roast. And that's all they ate. Stew, chili and pot roast. Every three days, the same damn thing was repeated.

  He took the first bite and ambrosia hit his taste buds. He looked up at Selena standing there waiting for hi
s reaction. He couldn't help it. His face broke out into a huge smile, and he shoveled in another bite. Damn, he was almost glad she had given away his cookies. He felt so damn guilty for getting this feast, that he was glad those poor bastards had something of the heaven he was eating.

  Selena was satisfied with his reaction and turned away to straighten up the kitchen.

  A deep voice intruded her thoughts. "Aren't you going to eat with me?"

  Selena flushed and turned to him. He wanted her to eat with him? " Senor?"

  Travis scowled at her. "My name is Travis. I've told you that before."

  Selena hesitated and touched her stomach. "I'm f-full."

  "You already ate?" At her nod, he grunted and took another bite, and then added,

  "Tomorrow night, you eat with me."

  Selena blushed again, nodded, and turned away to finish cleaning the kitchen.

  ****

  After Selena had retired to her room for the night, Travis sat down at his computer to work on the ranch's accounts. Her Bible and papers were in a neat pile on the desk. He thought about it for a few seconds, and then hit a couple of strokes to bring up the history on the computer. He refused to feel guilty. Hell, it was his house, his computer.

  It didn't take long to figure out what she was up to. She was searching for her grandparents in Texas.

  He made a few mental notes, and then turned his attention to the accounts.

  ****

  The next evening, Selena sat quietly across the table from him and took small bites from the single hamburger patty in front of her. He had instructed her to never make stew, chili, or pot roast, but said anything other than that was fine.

  There was a lot of ground beef in the freezer. There were sacks of potatoes. So, tonight, Selena had made hamburgers and French fries. Her mother had always cooked both Mexican and American foods, to please her father. And she had taught Selena how to do the same.

  Travis made his way steadily through the plate of food in front of him. How the hell she had managed to make this from what they had on the ranch, he didn't know.

  Granted, there were no hamburger buns, but she had used white bread, and it was lightly buttered and toasted a golden brown. The French fries were real potatoes, cut thick in wedges and crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Again, he was a happy man. He looked across at the large plate of chocolate chip cookies ready for him.