The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) by Cora Seton Page B

made the salad, and peeled the potatoes. With her busy schedule she never took time to make a fancy supper—certainly not since she’d been staying at the Cruz ranch where Autumn seemed to cook from morning to night. It was kind of fun as a change of pace. As the afternoon progressed, she realized that Holt could try to boss her around and Jake could try to force her hand, but in the end she was the one who decided whether or not to let them. She’d made a choice to secure a place for Gladys and she could stand two weeks of Holt’s craziness. She’d made a choice to sleep with Jake and she’d accept the consequences of that action. If she was pregnant, she’d add a baby to the mix and go to school anyway. Why not? Other women did and survived.
    The thought made her feel powerful after feeling so controlled by Holt and Jake, and she sang along to her tunes as she cooked. While the brownies baked, she whipped back upstairs and unpacked her things in the spare room. She estimated she had fifteen minutes of cleaning time left when she was done. After that she’d need to put all her attention on preparing the evening meal for her guests.
    Guest.
    She only cared about Lisa. Holt could go to hell.
    Approaching Jake’s room with trepidation, she wondered how Holt would even know if she’d cleaned it. She decided she’d straighten up the big things first, and get to the bathroom if there was time. Holt might stick his nose into the room, but she doubted he’d inspect his son’s private bathroom.
    Of course, this was Holt she was talking about.
    Hannah sighed and decided to tackle this last room as if she was running sprints. She made the bed, threw dirty clothes into the laundry basket, picked up papers and miscellaneous items from the floor, lining them up on his desk and dresser in ways she hoped made sense. She ran the vacuum around as quickly as she could and shut the closet door, before racing into the bathroom and scrubbing and tidying as fast as she could in the few minutes she had left.
    Good enough, she decided when the buzzer went off downstairs. Racing back down again, she saved the brownies from overcooking, scuttled around to put all the cleaning supplies away, and popped the biscuits in the oven. She set the brand new tablecloth she’d purchased over Jake’s dining room table and carefully set four places. She placed a bottle of wine on the counter top, removed the cover over the roasting chicken to brown the top, and spooned out the broth to start the gravy. A look around told her everything was in place.
    A look down at herself told her she looked like hell.
    Hannah panicked, then rolled her eyes at herself for caring as she raced for her room and tore off her clothes, reaching for the first thing that came to hand in her closet—a clingy dress of cobalt blue that made her eyes pop and her hair glow. It was far too dressy for the occasion, but there wasn’t time to try again. She shimmied into it, did up the zipper, yanked her pony-tail holder out of her hair and fluffed it up, checking her reflection in the mirror.
    She was flushed with the heat of the kitchen and all her exertions and her hair was wild, but the effect wasn’t awful. In fact… she pursed her lips. She didn’t look half bad. Maybe a day out of the clinic now and then wasn’t the worst thing in the world, although she’d prefer to do something a little more exciting than clean house.
    What would Jake think when he saw her?
    She didn’t care what he thought, she reminded herself. Jake was out of bounds from here on in. She was in control. She would determine her own future.
    A knock sounded at the door and she hurried to the stairs, realizing it must be Holt and Lisa. Where was Jake? He should have been home by now, especially since it was his father who had forced this little dinner on her.
    When she reached the door, however, Ned pushed through it. “Jake said dinner’s here tonight. Smells good. Got any beer?” He walked