Cowboy Boots and Bearnaise

Carrie stood at the stove, staring absently at the steam rising from the pan. The shallots simmering in wine and vinegar sent a tangy aroma wafting through the air. She could make the Bearnaise sauce with her eyes closed. Next to the stove, egg yolk waited, ready to be whisked in.

Carrie sighed, shoving the lump in her throat back down. How had her life gotten this far off track? She felt the familiar sting of tears well up in her eyes. Swiping them with the back of her hand, she looked at the pan.

"Damn," she muttered, reaching to pull it off the heat. Working quickly, she strained the mixture into a double boiler and added the egg yolk, whisking them quickly and efficiently. She heard heavy steps on the wooden planks of the front porch. It sounded like cowboy boots.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Henry was out with some of the guests today. Frank was in town and Jimmy was with Henry. No one else should be at the ranch for another hour.

She heard the steps slow. Tightening her hand on the whisk to stop the trembling, she took a steadying breath.

She'd told him not to come back to the house. She'd never said not to come back to the ranch. Stupidly, she'd thought Todd would be too afraid of Henry to show his face here.

The knock felt like gunshots. Gripping the pot like a weapon, she walked cautiously to the kitchen door.

Her mind replayed the screams, the threats, the ugliness of their last meeting. Her face burned with the memory of the slap he'd delivered after seeing the envelope.The pot shook in her hand.

Using her free hand, she flicked the cherry printed curtain away from the door window. A male face scowled back at her. Startled, she jumped back, dropping the pan, hot sauce spattering legs bared by the skirt she'd worn in deference to the heat..

"Son of a --" she hissed in pain. She swiped at her legs with her hands, tears welling in her eyes. She looked up as the kitchen door opened.

A tall man walked in the kitchen, taking in the situation at a glance. She had a moment to register a wide chest and long legs covered in denim before he picked her up. She clutched his neck in horror.

"What are you doing? I'm too heavy!"

He grunted, sitting her down in a chair at the table. Walking to the kitchen sink, he grabbed a towel off the rack and ran water over it. Coming back to her, he knelt at her feet, wiping the sauce off her legs.

She stared at the top of his head in bemusement, noting the golden curls at the nape of his neck.

"I don't think the burns are too bad. Do you have aloe?" his voice rumbled.

"Um, yeah. I think so."

He finished wiping her legs and looked up. "If you let me know where it is, I'll get it for you."

"That's okay," Carrie said, staring into the deepest blue eyes she'd ever seen."I'm fine."

The stranger frowned at her legs. "I'll get it," he said firmly. Carrie directed him to the medicine cabinet and watched him walk away. She frowned at his limp, wondering who he was.

Returning, the stranger grabbed a chair and sat in front of Carrie. He opened the bottle of aloe and poured it in his hands. Rubbing them together briskly, he reached down and pulled her leg into his lap. Gently, he smoothed the lotion over her legs."I don't know what you were thinking to be carrying that sauce around," he scolded.

Carrie felt a blush rise. "I was thinking I didn't know who was at the door."

"Seems like things have changed out here if you greet a guest with boiling oil," he commented.

Carrie bit back a retort as he flicked her skirt back over her knees. Of all the days not to shave her legs. She smiled ruefully. Of all the weeks not to shave her legs.

"I'm Carrie," she said, trying to gain control of the situation.

The man removed her legs from his lap, setting her feet on the floor. A grin split his face, relaxing the frown lines and brightening his eyes.

"I'm Gage."

This was a piece of fiction inspired by The Red Dress Club prompt "Shoes". You know I had to go with cowboy boots here. This is also part of my continued Hidden Hollow storyline. This piece takes place after Coming Home.


You're still wondering what was in that envelope, aren't you? Let's hope that a future prompt allows me to share.


Also, I'm writing from a friend's house, so there might be some (a lot) of errors. I hate when I don't get a chance to send posts to my writing partners. Please let me know if you have any concrit or edits or see any typos.