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impossible. Eleanor stood smoothing the wrinkled linen, wondering about the night duties . He expects me to renege. Well, I won’t. Five minutes in his bed and off to my own. It will be nothing more than a minor irritation.
    Satisfied she had that plan under control, Eleanor focused on the dining hall. Although she strained to hear, nothing more than an occasional clink of cutlery against plates drifted to her. Filled with worry that the meat had been undercooked or the vegetables too done, she carried the coffeepot into the room, preparing to replenish their cups.
    Mr. Burke was at the head of the table in a chair fit for his size— a king among minions . As one of the minions, she waited humbly for comments on her meal.
    “Where’s the rest of the food?” When she stared dumbly at him, cold chills rippling through her, he spoke impatiently. “Bring the bowls in here and we’ll serve ourselves. From now on, don’t be divvying up portions like that. And take this out of here.” He handed her the artful centerpiece she’d made from paper and cloth. “Henley tried to eat it.”
    “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t allow for the appetites of your men. There is no rest of the food .”
    “Well, damn. That’s it?”
     
    “Boys.” Cyrus got the crew’s attention, which wasn’t hard since it had taken them no time to polish off the food, scrape the plates and scoop up the crumbs from the hot rolls. The sample had been worth repeating and now they waited expectantly for more.
    “Meet the new housekeeper. It appears she fell a mite short in her first meal. Maybe she’ll do better tomorrow morning. Give her the respect she earns and keep your hands to yourselves.” He frowned apologetically at the men.
    It was the best he could do in explanations. Hell, the drovers hadn’t yet forgotten his last cook’s shortcomings. Now this. Still, it had been tasty and she’d tried.
    He pushed his chair back with a loud scrape, signaling the meal was at an end. She laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from rising. “I haven’t served the final course.”
    “I thought the food was all gone.” Her small palm resting next to his chin distracted him. He wanted to turn his head and nip it.
    “It’s just desserts,” she explained. “But…” She moved her hand before he could sample it, as though fearing he might take a bite before she could scurry back to the kitchen.
    “Guess she’s got something else fixed for us. Hold up there, boys, while she brings out her next attempt.” Cyrus scooted closer to the table.
    “No wonder your housekeepers don’t stay long, Mr. Burke. You are rude.” Her words were murmured for his ears alone.
    “I didn’t hire you to teach me manners, Eleanor.” He didn’t bother to lower his voice when he answered her.
    “Mr. Burke, since you are so needy, I’ll throw those in for free.” Her face flushed and her jaw squared. Mrs. Lacey didn’t even try to look chastised.
    It had been awhile since anyone had sassed him—probably because he didn’t take to sassing well. On the other hand, the job applicant’s temper kept popping out like the unraveling of a too-tight corset and he suddenly had an interest in hearing more.
    Someone at the table snickered. Cyrus sipped his coffee and waited to see what she’d do. It was suddenly important that Mrs. Lacey wasn’t a loose woman. He told himself he wasn’t looking for a woman who’d service the whole ranch crew—just him.
    “I have dessert to serve.” Her eyes remained fixed on the table, not him or the men staring at her. Setting the pot of coffee by his arm, she retreated to the kitchen.
    Cyrus topped his cup off and pushed the pot toward the next man in line. His belly growled. They ate twice a day and this had been slim pickings for sure. He looked at his empty plate and frowned, as did every man at the table.
    “We’ll starve to death if you hire that one, boss.” Jake Connelly, Cyrus’ foreman expressed