The Secret Ingredient

Chapter 1

Colorado, 1888

You are a hardheaded, hard-hearted, opinionated, bossy, stubborn, annoying man! Toe tapping to the tune of the waves of anger rolling through her, Miss Halimeda Pruitt ticked each fault off on her fingers, then snapped them beneath the nose of the recipient of her latest human good deed, one Cade McAllister.

And you, Miss Pruitt, are the most— Guilt snapped Cade’s teeth together with an audible click. He glared around the shadowed interior of the dilapidated barn. Blue eyes glittered as his hands clenched at his sides to prevent him from lifting the chin-high shrew off the soles of her high-button shoes and setting her down in the newly delivered wagonload of fresh hay. Strength of will allowed him to close the mental door on the scene that would follow.

Two more useless critters, he muttered. Don’t expect me to feed them.

I never asked you to. I never asked you to do one chore on my property. All you need to do is rest, heal your broken leg, and leave.

As soon as I can, Miss Pruitt. As soon as I can.

Hallie watched his limping retreat with a great deal of sadness. His muttering should have blistered her ears, but strangely enough, did not. She had deliberately provoked Cade. He had been trying unsuccessfully for the past week to make her see the error of her ways. Cade didn’t understand why she took in animals that no one else wanted.

But then, why should Cade be different from so many other men that had found their way to the spare room when no one else would take care of them? Gamblers all, regardless of how they had been wounded, from miners out of the Never Summer range above her deep valley ranch to those like Cade McAllister who had been taken in by a pretty face and robbed of all his savings.

Like her mother and grandmother before her, Hallie opened her home to them, but unlike the two loving women Hallie would not repeat their mistakes. She never allowed her heart to be involved.

When loneliness swamped her, she wanted to have someone to love, someone who would accept her and love her in return.

The animals posed no risk, unlike Cade McAllister.

She winced as the back door to the kitchen slammed and turned back to settle in the newest addition to her family. By suppertime Cade would be in a mellow mood. She had left him one of her favorite chocolates. Only Doc Burnswait was aware of the small addition she made to the confections.

After all, a woman alone had to protect herself.

When this reminder did not stifle the flush of guilt, Hallie thought of all the extra rest Cade McAllister was receiving, and the more he rested, the quicker he would heal and be on his way.

The thought did not cheer her.

Cade McAllister, all six foot two of lean, hard muscle, slumped against the door frame of his room. He stared at the sweet evidence that Miss Halimeda Pruitt left in his room. It sat in a lacy paper cup propped on his pillow like some unblinking eye of judgment.

Three days ago, driven by unquenchable curiosity, Cade committed an unforgivable violation. No one knew about it, least of all the woman he had sinned against.

After boarding with Hallie for five weeks, he still wanted to ridicule her attempts to dose him with confections to stop his craving a drink of whiskey. He longed to sneer at her offerings found whenever his back was turned.

Pathetic, infernal, interfering woman.

In the next breath, he amended his thought. How could he be angry with the woman who had taken him in when no one else would? He wouldn’t be if she just once listened to reason and that was the truth.

Doc Burnswait said his leg was almost healed. He had taken off the cast. Cade figured in a few weeks he would be ready to cut his losses and ride away from this isolated, broken-down excuse for a ranch.

He could last a few more weeks here.

Couldn’t he?

Cade didn’t search deeply for an answer.

Only his desperate straits made him agree with Doc’s suggestion to stay here. But the good doctor’s solution created a problem—spelled with a capital P.

Pruitt. One Miss Halimeda Pruitt who did not know the meaning of the word quit.

Cade, feeling the aching throb of his leg, limped into the room and with a resigned sigh, closed the door behind him. He yanked off the sweat dampened neckerchief from his neck and started to unbutton his chambray shirt. His gaze locked onto the linen pillowcase and its sweet offering.

What have I done to deserve this? he muttered.

Too late, he thought to warn himself not to think of the answer.

The image of the sauciest bit of southern drawling baggage ever to grace a poker table rose in his mind like a haunting nightmare. No man liked being reminded of how he had played the fool, but that was the role Cade had played.

He had delivered a herd of cattle to the Double Bar J ranch south of Denver, and when the other men rode back to Texas, Cade decided to stay on. Spring had come to the Colorado mountains and Cade went looking for land to buy. He had found a grassland valley, but the purchase would take all his savings. Eager to increase his stake, he risked only the bonus he had received for bringing the herd up north earlier than expected.

Miss Lurette Beauclare, a widow fallen on hard times, had cleaned him out of his money, lured him to her room where two of her cohorts had beaten him senseless, stole his savings, and broken his leg when they dumped him in a ravine and left him to die.

A broken wheel led to Doc Burnswait discovering him. Without a penny to his name, no one would take Cade in until his leg healed—no one but Doc and Miss Halimeda Pruitt. The woman had even paid Doc his fee, then settled the livery bill so Cade could have his horse.

Guilt for his transgression rolled over Cade like a high mountain storm. His conscience was pricked like forked lightning had hit it. He didn’t have the good sense God gave a mule to appreciate his Christian benefactor.

Or maybe he did. Maybe keeping his distance from the woman was enough. If it wasn’t, and his thoughts about the hay and Hallie rushed back before he could stop them, maybe the best thing he could do for her and his sanity was to believe that fully healed or not, he should leave her and the sorriest excuses