Under the Cowboy's Control Page 5

  Yeah, he was going to keep her.

  Although the thought was just a joke in his head, his mind quickly supplied him with a visual of all the meals his future would hold if she stayed. The image of having to start eating Slim's cooking again made him feel nauseated. Maybe it was time he hired a housekeeper. Somebody to cook just for him. And wash his clothes. He hated washing his damn clothes.

  The back door slammed. Clinton and Jim stood in the doorway.

  "What do ya'll need?" His words were short, impatient.

  "We just wanted to let you know that we finished moving the small herd to the east pasture. The fence near the well house was down, but we got it fixed." Jim recited this as his eyes darted back and forth between Travis and Selena.

  Clinton just stared at Selena, like a lost puppy dog looking for its owner.

  Travis scowled. What the hell kind of lame excuse was that for coming into the house? Shit, that was their job, and they never told him the insignificant minutiae that happened on a daily basis. But, he was in a good mood and decided to humor them.

  "Thanks for the update. Good work." As he spoke, he noticed Selena stand and walk to the kitchen counter.

  Jim shuffled his feet and Clinton's eyes continued to follow Selena. She turned back to them, a large chocolate cake in her hands. She strolled over to them, her movements relaxed and unconsciously sensual, and she handed the cake over to Jim.

  The two men broke into grins, thanked her profusely, and turned and left the house.

  Travis saw the spell she had cast over his men. The femininity that radiated from her young body was addictive. And not just to them. "You're going to spoil them.

  They're going to start expecting something from you every day."

  She shrugged, unconcerned, and resumed eating her meal. He watched delicate little bites go between her small white teeth, her hand pick up the glass of iced tea and take a sip. She set the drink back down and paused while she wiped the condensation from her glass. Her hand stroked up and down.

  His guts clenched in need and he looked away from her and quickly finished the meal that had started out so enjoyable, but had suddenly turned on him to make him feel like a man stretched out on a rack.

  ****

  The next night, Travis sat in his chair at the dinner table, steadily making his way through a second helping of something that tasted like spaghetti, but wasn't. There were no spaghetti noodles in the house, so Selena had substituted macaroni. It tasted the same. Delicious. They didn't have any French bread, but what he was eating could have passed for it. Toasted white bread dripping in butter and garlic.

  What that girl could do with a loaf of store bought bread.

  While he was thinking about the culinary possibilities if they were to make a run to Laredo for more supplies, his gaze swept over her. Something was different about her tonight. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what it was.

  It didn't take long. It was the shirt she was wearing. He knew she only owned two shirts, and she rotated them every day. She was wearing a different top. It was a tan t-shirt, and he had no idea where it came from. He chewed his meal and pondered the mystery.

  All at once it dawned on him, and he choked slightly, and took a large gulp of iced tea. He cleared his throat and demanded, "Is that the shirt I threw away?" The idea of her wearing trash pissed him off, but there was no denying that it didn't resemble the shirt he had chunked a few days before.

  Selena recognized the irritation in his voice and carefully answered him. "Yes. It is okay?"

  "Yes, it's okay that you took it, but damn it, Selena, I don't want you to wear trash."

  She jumped up, annoyed with him. "It is not trash. See." She stood close to him and pointed down her torso to the shirt in question. No doubt about it, it didn't look like something she had gotten from the trash. When he had thrown it away, it was a plain t-shirt that had at one time been white, before all the stains, and had rips in it from his tussle with the bull and the barbed wire.

  Now it looked like something any young girl would wear. She had cut off the bottom where all the rips were located, and she had cropped it to about waist length. The majority of it was dyed a light tan color, except around the collar which was a deeper brown. The sleeves that had been short on him, she had carefully rolled up, and they were tied around her tiny biceps with bows that she had cut from the discarded material from the bottom.

  "How did you dye it brown?" His voice was puzzled.

  "Wh-what?" she asked, and embarrassed by her outburst, moved back to her chair.

  "The shirt. How did you make it brown? What did you use?" He tempered his words so she wouldn't think she had done something wrong.

  "Coffee." She took another bite, and looked up to see if he was mad.

  "You dipped the shirt in coffee, and it turned that color?"

  " Si."

  Travis was totally taken aback by her ingenuity. But immediately his eyes fell to the meal she had contrived from practically nothing, and decided that she was very talented and extremely domestic.

  He also felt like a heel for not realizing the state of her clothing. Her lack of clothing.

  Finishing up the last few bites of the meal, Travis wiped his hands and stood up.

  "Follow me, Selena." He pushed his chair under the table and walked into the living room and sat behind his desk at the computer.

  With a few keystrokes, the website of a large online department store featuring women's apparel popped onto the screen.

  Selena stood in the doorway, watching him with a question in her eyes.

  "Come over here." He motioned with his head for her to come to him and looked back down at the screen.

  Selena gritted her teeth at his supreme arrogance, but she slowly obeyed him, until she was standing next to him, looking at the computer screen. What she saw there, hurt her feelings. Did she look so horrible? Was he angry that she had taken the shirt? She was clothed, and she was clean.

  "I want you to pick out some clothes. I can't spare the time from the ranch to take you shopping right now, but you can order some stuff, and the UPS guy will deliver it in a few days. We're not so far off the beaten track that we don't get deliveries."

  Selena began shaking her head. "No m-money. I c-can't--"

  He cut her off impatiently. "Selena, I don't expect you to pay for this stuff. I know you don't have any money. Just pick some stuff out, sizes and colors, and I'll cover it. We're not talking about much money here. Just pick out say, a week's worth of jeans, shirts, underwear, stuff like that. And you're going to need shorts. It's going to be hot as hell here in a few weeks. As a matter of fact, get a bathing suit or two.

  There's a stream that opens up into a pond on the south place. You'll like it."

  Selena stared at him in horror. Her face turned red from embarrassment and shame. She couldn't allow him to pay for her clothes. What would that make her?

  Fathers bought clothes for their daughters. Husbands bought clothes for their wives. Men didn't buy clothes for women that weren't relatives. She might be innocent, but she knew that much.

  "N-no. Gracias, T-Travis." She started to back away from him and he reached out and grabbed a slender wrist before she could get away. He caressed the pulse point with his rough thumb.

  "Selena, you've got to have some clothes. It's not right that you're in need and I've got money coming out of my butt--"

  Her eyes flared and she started pulling on her wrist. His grip tightened on her and he didn't let go. "I've got plenty of money, Selena." He softened his voice. "Please, Angel, you'll be doing me a favor. You're working so hard, making my meals, cleaning my kitchen--"

  "N-no, por favor, Travis."

  Her huge eyes welled with tears and he felt it like a knife to his heart. "Angel, how about you let me buy you these clothes, and we work out a deal?" Her eyes became even larger, and a tear dripped down her cheek. "No, no, baby. Nothing like that. Selena, I'm an honorable man. Please don't think terrible thi
ngs about me.

  You're doing such a good job with the cooking, but you know, what I really hate doing, is my laundry. Maybe you could run a load or two for me once in a while? It would really help me out, and I could help you some by getting a few things for you." His words came to an end, and he waited for her reaction.

  Selena stopped pulling on her arm and stood still. "A h-housekeeper, si? "

  Travis hadn't really meant a housekeeper. That sounded long term, and he didn't think he had the fortitude to withstand the temptation for weeks on end, let alone months on end. But her beauty was compelling, the thought of having her feminine touch on his house, if not on him, was tempting. He had never lived with a woman.

  Never had a mother to take care of him, never a wife or girlfriend, not even a housekeeper.

  He slowly nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Sure, a housekeeper. Do you know how to take care of a house?" He bet his ass she did. If the meals were anything to go by, her mother had trained her well in wifely duties.

  Selena smiled. "Yes."

  The smile hit him, like a low blow to his solar plexus that was going to take him a moment to recover from. He cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Let's order you some clothes."

  "No. First I clean. Clothes, maybe next week." She tugged on her arm and he released her.

  Son of a bitch. She had won that battle.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, after Selena had washed the breakfast dishes and put on a double batch of brownies to bake, she walked down the halls to the bedrooms. Hers was clean, as she had been taking care of it herself. She entered the spare bedroom and looked around. It contained a double bed, a bedside table, and a chair by a large window. It was pristine and there wasn't anything in it to straighten. She took the cloth and polish she had found in the laundry room and quickly sprayed and dusted the room. It didn't take five minutes.

  Then she walked to the third bedroom. The room Travis slept in. She hadn't ever been in the room before, hadn't even taken a look at it. She peeked in, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. The room was nothing like the rest of the house.

  The other rooms were orderly, no knick-knacks, no stacks of stuff. Granted, the dust was thick, but other than that, the rooms were clean.

  His bedroom was not. Dirty clothes were strewn everywhere. On the floor. On the chair, on the unmade bed. There was a saddle in one corner of the room, and two cardboard boxes overflowing with trophies and plaques. Selena stepped forward and took a look at them, and saw several with pictures of bulls and roping events.

  Most of them were first place awards. It was a shame that they were kept in this box with dust all over them.

  She peeked in the hall bathroom that she knew he used. Although it was meant to be shared with the other bedroom, it was larger than the little bath that connected to her bedroom. Maybe that was why he had chosen it.

  It was disgusting.

  She had never seen such filth. She closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross. Dear Lord, give her strength.

  Two hours later, the bathroom was clean, his bed was changed and made, the brownies were done, and Selena was trying to figure out how to work the washing machine. She put his jeans and the soap powder in, but it didn't seem to be filling with water the way it should. She pondered the problem for a bit and decided the big black cord at the back of the machine must have a kink in it. She reached around and fiddled with it, and all of a sudden it came loose from the PVC piping, and was spraying water all over the room.

  Selena screamed involuntarily, and seconds later, Clinton pushed into the house from the mudroom.

  "What's wrong?" He demanded, just as his eyes focused on the water spilling out, everywhere. "Crap!"

  Selena was wet from trying to put the black water hose back in the pipe, and water drenched the front of her shirt, while tears slipped down her cheeks.

  Clinton jumped into action and shoved the water control to the off position, and then forced the hose down the pipe. He moved the machine back into place where it had agitated itself away from the wall because it was too full. He reached in, took a couple of pairs of jeans out and threw them in the laundry basket on the floor.

  Then he turned the water back on. He stood and watched it for a few seconds to see if it was okay, then turned and faced her.

  She stood back, softly crying with her face in her hands.

  Selena looked extremely helpless, and Clinton froze in front of her. "Aw, Selena.

  It's okay."

  Her sobs became louder. He moved forward and awkwardly took her in his arms.

  "Shh. Don't cry, Selena. It's just water. It could of happened to anyone." He patted her on the back.

  The door clicked open a few feet away from them. "Get your hands off her. Now."

  Travis barked the command and Clinton dropped his hands away like she was a piece of hot coal.

  "It's not what you think, Boss--" Clinton began.

  "I don't want to hear your bullshit. I've warned you before about hanging around here all day. You think I don't know what the sudden attraction is?"

  The younger man bristled. "Boss, I--"

  Clinton's words stopped when Travis took a threatening step forward.

  "Get back to work." The words were a low growl. Travis turned his attention toward the girl trying to dry her eyes. Clinton was already dismissed from his mind. He heard the door shut behind the young cowhand.

  He folded his arms over his chest and stood glaring at her. "You won't let me buy you a few lousy articles of clothing, but your life is so hard here, that you cry all over that boy and let him touch you?"

  He waited for her to speak, but she only shook her head. His words became more biting. "Maybe you don't like it here? Maybe washing my clothes is too hard for you, and you thought you'd just get a little help?" He reached out a hand to touch her face and she flinched away from him.

  The move maddened him.

  He grabbed her wrist and hauled her body into his. "You let that kid put his hands all over you, but you flinch from my touch?"

  Her heartbeat accelerated and her eyes widened to their fullest. She pushed against him. " Por favor, Travis, stop."

  She held herself still a few inches away from him and stood taking ragged breaths.

  Travis saw the fear in her eyes and loosened his grip a notch. His sanity slowly returned. "What happened, Selena?"

  She bit her lip and pointed to the washing machine. "It went g-gush."

  "The washing machine? Gush?"

  "Y-yes, it gushed water."

  Finally, Travis noticed the water he would have seen earlier if it hadn't been for the sheer blind jealousy gripping him. Water was all over the floor and all over Selena.

  If he could reach his ass, he'd kick himself.

  He'd scared her to death, and threatened an innocent kid. "I guess Clinton just came in here to help you?"

  She nodded her head.

  He hung his head. "Shit. I'm sorry." He released her completely, his hands slowly moving from the grip he had on her shoulders, down her arms, until he held each hand in his, squeezed, and then stepped away from her. "Why don't you go get dried off, and I'll get a mop and clean up this mess."

  Selena nodded and turned away and went to change.

  ****

  A few minutes later, after Travis finished mopping the floor, he stood in the doorway to his bathroom and studied it. It didn't look like the same room. The fresh smell of pine cleaner and bleach assailed his nostrils. The room sparkled, the mirror shiny and streak free. A large stack of fluffy towels sat on the vanity top, ready for his use. But what held his attention were the three shelves above the commode. Before, they had been stuffed with half empty bottles and accumulated crap that he didn't have the time or the inclination to go through. Now, the bottom shelf held his shampoo and shaving things, all neatly organized. But the top two shelves were decorated. An empty glass coke bottle held a fresh bunch of wildflowers, their aroma softly scenting the room, and two
of his first place bull riding plaques filled the extra space. He had always meant to put some of his things around the house, but he had never had the time. So they had just sat in the box and rotted.

  He glanced up when he heard a noise behind him. Selena was coming out of her bedroom, clean, dry clothes on and her wet hair brushed behind her ears.

  She hesitated as she saw him studying his bathroom.

  Travis watched her slowly come closer to him and felt his muscles clench in a rush of violent need. The feelings she evoked in him were primeval. Elemental.

  Feelings of jealousy, possession, and an arousal so strong he thought he might snap.

  She lingered just out of his reach. She motioned to the bathroom. "You l-like it?"

  Travis had to touch her. He physically was unable to stop himself from reaching out and picking up her hand. "Oh yeah, I like it." He pulled her into the bathroom and swiveled her in front of him, her back lightly resting against his front, a position that let them both see the room. He gently wrapped his arms around her.

  He held her for a moment and forced his body back into control. He took several deep breaths and let her closeness temper the fires raging inside of him.

  "The shelves look good, Selena. Thank you." He lightly rested his chin on her head and softly rocked her in his arms, letting the magic of the room and the feel of her soft little body soothe him. "You're a miracle worker, aren't you?"

  Selena stood in his embrace, enchanted at his reaction to the few simple things she had done. His praise washed through her mind, and a feeling of safety settled in her soul. Safety such as she hadn't experienced since the loss of her family. Not since the drug cartel had taken over Mexico.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against him, her hands unconsciously caressing the strong arms that enclosed her. She savored the moment and tried to tell him what she was feeling. " Gracias, Travis. Th-thank you. Thank you for everything."