The Bride Wore Spurs (The Inconvenient Bride Series, Book 1) by Sharon Ihle

this and Hawke that till—hell, listening to her I'd a thought that the two of you were getting on thicker than calf slobber. What's the problem?
    Now fiddling with the brim of his hat as he turned it around in an endless circle, Hawke went on with his prepared speech. "It's not me I'm worried about when she's there. It's Crowfoot. I'm afraid having her around is upsetting him something awful."
    "Oh, I plum forgot about him. Did they have a run-in of some kind?"
    "I don't think so, but I'm sure the kid was watching her help me deliver Taffy's foal. I doubt he liked it much." And that much was probably true. Crowfoot loved working with the horses, and most likely viewed Lacey as a threat to his job. Thinking of a few other "facts" he didn't have to fabricate, Hawke added, "If that's not enough, Crowfoot hasn't spoken a word to me for the past two days. When I leave his supper in the barn, he waits until I'm good and gone before he comes down from the loft to get it. He's avoiding me, and I'm pretty sure I know why." He cocked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom. "Her."
    "So what?" Caleb shrugged. "This ain't the first time he's gone and hid hisself from us, and I doubt it'll be the last. He'll be all right once he gets used to the idea of having a female underfoot." Caleb lifted his cane off the floor and tapped Hawke's knee with it. "Sounds to me like you don't got a problem a'tall."
    Feeling as if he were losing ground, Hawke roughed up his voice. "Having that woman around has undone a lot of the progress we made with Crowfoot over the past four years. Besides that she can't even cook up a slice of smoked ham! Frankly, Caleb, I don't think keeping her around is worth the trouble."
    Kate drew the curtain aside she'd fashioned to separate the living room from the kitchen, and picked up the conversation where Hawke left off. "I hope ye weren't referring to Lacey just now, Mr. Winterhawke—look at what the dear sweet lass has made up special for ye." Never slowing her stride as she crossed between the couch and fireplace, she passed the berry pie she was carrying beneath Hawke's nostrils and continued on her way.
    "Was that a pie?" Hawke said, following his nose. "A pie ?"
    Feigning innocence, Kate paused dramatically. She, Lacey, and Caleb had discussed Lacey's culinary deficiencies at length over the past couple of days, that and the disasters she'd caused at Winterhawke Ranch. During the course of the conversation, Caleb revealed the only weakness he'd ever spotted in his friend, Hawke—the man absolutely, positively could not resist a slice of pie, no matter what the flavor.
    Exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Caleb, Kate finally answered Hawke. "Why, yessir. Lacey got the urge to bake a nice fat blackberry pie, but if yer not wantin' it or her around, I'll just be handing it off to Caleb's men in the bunkhouse." She turned then, and headed for the door.
    "No, wait!" Hawke was on his feet in a flash. Hell, he couldn't just let her walk out the door with a fresh berry pie—not without at least a taste of it! He actually dreamed about pies from time to time, but since he rarely had the chance to go to town, hardly ever got the chance to indulge this one obsession.
    His mouth watering, Hawke swallowed hard. "Nothing's been settled about Lacey just yet. Caleb and I were only talking about some of the problems I've been having with her out at the ranch."
    Taking her cue, the woman in question strolled into the room, her stride bold and purposeful—an almost impossible gait considering that she was walking on tiptoes. It really wasn't difficult for her today, however, for between the lucky spurs and the recipes Kate had written down for her, Lacey truly did feel as if she were invincible. Between her newly formed confidence and the English adage—the way to a man's heart is through his stomach—she had no doubt that after Hawke tasted the pie she'd "helped" Kate bake, the man would be as good as