Somebody Like You by Lynnette Austin

the hell away from her.”
    Vivi threw him an icy smile. “She’s my cook.”
    “Thank you for reminding me.” Frustration seeped into him. His hands fisted. “You don’t want to be here on this ranch any more than I want you here. What’ll it take, Vivi, to buy your half out?”
    “We’ve already been through this, darlin’. The ranch isn’t for sale.” She stepped to him, laid a hand on his cheek. “Marry me, Cash, and the ranch is all yours.”
    “I’d rather eat glass.” He removed her hand from his face.
    “Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure Rosie will be only too happy to fix it for you.” Vivi turned and flounced up the highly polished oak staircase, her hips swiveling in her tight shorts.
    Cash blew out a breath and headed to the kitchen, his boots loud on the shiny hardwood floors. He avoided the thick accent rugs in blues and orange that Vivi’d added. Too fancy by far, for his taste.
    The minute he stepped into the bright, cheerful room, Rosie hustled to him, shaking the wooden spoon in her hand. As wide as Hank was thin, she looked practically apoplectic in her tomato-red housedress. “Cash, you’ve gotta do somethin’ about her.” Dark eyes snapping with anger, she nodded her head in the direction of the front of the house. “It’s her or me. One of us has to go.”
    He scrubbed his hands over his face. “You know I’d send her packing if I could.”
    “You can. You know what you gotta do.”
    “Rosie—”
    “Never mind. Have you had lunch?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Then wash up and let me feed you. Like I used to do before she moved in.” Again, she jerked her graying head toward the front of the house.
    Cash went to the sink to lather up, scrubbing away the morning’s dust and letting Rosie vent before turning the conversation to the upcoming barbecue.
    “That’s the problem. Look at this.” She dug a list out of her mammoth apron pocket and slapped it on the table.
    He turned it around so he could read it. The menu. The one they’d used for as many years as he could remember. Whispering Pines’ Fourth of July barbecue was legendary. Angry red lines slashed through most of the items on the list. New dishes had been scrawled beside them. His eyes widened.
    “Ah, Vivi told me she’d made a few small changes.”
    “A few small changes?” Her stubby finger came down on the scratched-out barbecue pork. “We’re supposed to have prime rib instead. And see here? No apple pies. Instead, I’ve been told to make Baked Alaska.”
    “Well—”
    “Ain’t gonna happen. Baked Alaska,” she grumbled. She rested both hands on her hips. “Not in this lifetime. And potatoes au gratin instead of corn on the cob? At a Whispering Pines’ barbecue? Humph! The menu stays as it’s always been. Ms. Fancy Pants will have to make do.”
    “That’s more than fine with me,” Cash said.
    “Yeah, well, that’s real easy for you to say. You’re not cooped up with her here, day after day after day. She can get nasty. Real nasty.”
    “I know she can, and I’m sorry, Rosie.”
    “I know you didn’t make this mess. Mr. Leo’s responsible for it, bless his soul. But one more thing you’ve got to know. I’ve already talked to Hank, and he’s agreed. If that woman fires me because of all this, he’s gonna retire a little earlier than he’d planned. We’ll both be done.”
    Hank retire? Rosie leave? Cash’s stomach burned, and it wasn’t from the extra coffee he’d had with breakfast.
    “She won’t do that, Rosie. You and I both know she’d starve to death if you left.”
    “We’ll see. The woman’s crazy. Like this here new floor. White tile in a ranch house kitchen? What’s wrong with her brain? Can’t keep it clean, but then she doesn’t much care about that. Ain’t her down on her hands and knees scrubbin’ it.”
    “You shouldn’t be, either, Rosie. That’s what we hire the cleaning girls to do.”
    “Uh-huh.” With that Rosie changed the subject. “Your