Belle of Bellville Ch. 01-02

"Uh, yes. Beau-Boucher. Hyphenated. Perhaps not a popular surname in southeast Texas, but not as uncommon in Louisiana," she said as she nodded with a friendly smile.

Their hands parted as he smiled curiously at her. "You're from Louisiana?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiled. "I thought I'd recognized the accent."

She had an accent?

"Well, I guess I should be on my way. I was just asking directions—"

"—She's here for the housekeeper and cook position," the unfriendly cowboy said from his perch on the verandah.

She snapped big eyes to him and saw him look back with a lazy gaze. For the life of her she couldn't understand why he had to mention that when he had made it perfectly clear she wasn't welcome! Did he just want to ridicule her in front of this man?

A spark briefly lit in her eyes, irritated with him, but if he'd seen it, he wasn't the least bit impressed by it. Then again, what threat was she to a man of his size and attitude?

"You are?"

She directed her attention back on the older gentleman. "Yes, sir, I am. Are you Mr. John Barrington?"

"Since pa dropped it on my head after I near dropped outta my momma's lap," he answered in colorful Texian-speak, nodding with a generous smile.

She smiled a little shyly, briefly dropping her thick eyelashes before she looked at him. "Well, I was in the process of asking one of your men here," she looked briefly at the younger cowboy, "if you were in. I had indeed come to solicit the position of housekeeper but it's been made perfectly clear to me that I'm not what you're looking for."

To her dismay, she got the same scrutinizing look of disbelief from this older Texan, but she maintained her polite smile and disposition. At least this one looked shocked rather than hostile and impolite.

"You wanna apply for the position of housekeeper?" he asked with open surprise.

"Wanted," she corrected. "But I assure you, I'm quite capable of strenuous menial work—"

"—Menial work?" the previously silent ranch hand scoffed with a cynical chuckle.

She looked over at him with a disapproving frown as her lips briefly tightened. "Yes. Domestic work is also referred to as "menial" work, last time I checked."

"We just call it housekeepin' and cookin' around these parts."

She arched an eyebrow at him, but then she returned her attention to the man whom she had come to see and her frown evaporated as she smiled politely again. She had no idea why she suddenly felt the need to be defensive, but she did.

"I assure you, I'm a hard worker, and I've garnered extensive experience in the preparation of hearty meals for a party of no less than two hundreds guests. I bake, cook, and clean, and have adequate First Aid and CPR skills. I have references."

The insolent cowboy had to inject himself in her conversation again.

"Headin' a household full of dusty men is a whole different deal than playin' Belle organizing tea parties, Miss," he drawled. "We ain't got much need for cucumber finger sandwiches and champagne around these parts."

Isabella's confused gaze shot to him. She was baffled by his attitude since he was the one who had to go and tell John Barrington that she was there for the position when he could've just remained silent and let her leave! Then she realized that he could be playing a game with her, and her sapphire-blue eyes shot fire.

The older man chuckled. "Now, Jacob, mind your manners."

She looked cross at this "Jacob" as he returned a lazy look back. "I assure you, sir, I'm equally adept at preparing a ten-pound roast as I am at preparing cucumber sandwiches for two."

"Aw, don't mind my son, Miss Beau-Boucher. He's just an ornery cuss today."

She smiled at him, accepting the challenge. "Only today?"

John Barrington roared with laughter and she looked at him with a genuine smile. The big man had a contagious laugh that brought one on her lips. She was secretly relieved that he wasn't offended because she suddenly realized that he'd just outed the obnoxious cowboy as his son, Jacob Barrington. It explained his arrogance, she thought silently.

"And be rest assured that your son doesn't bother me as much as I believe he would like," she added with kind smile. She really had to restrain herself and mask her disappointment, though. Having heard that the rude and obnoxious cowboy was no ordinary ranch hand but the son of the man whom she'd come seeking employment with was very disappointing. There was no way she'd stay on now.

"I was just explainin' to the lady that she didn't look old enough to leave her momma's skirt, let alone head a household like ours," Jacob Barrington said.

She arched an eyebrow as she looked at him. "I apologize for having this inherent "flaw" of not aging quickly enough for your taste, sir," she said with a cool tone, "but I assure you, I'm not as young or as inexperienced as you persistently want to believe. I'm twenty-five years old, and I have excellent recommendations from other families I've been privileged to serve."

Why didn't his father intervene?

"Don't care how old you are, or how many families sing your praises, Miss. You still ain't right for the position."

Okay. So she finally got her answer. He still wanted her to leave, but he wanted to make sure that he got his pound of flesh and thoroughly ridicule her in front of his father before she did.

"On what grounds do you base your judgment? Appearances? Appearances don't bake bread, roast beef, or keep the dust from settling in the home any more than the appearance of a grown man is any indication that he is a gentleman."

"Never said I was a gentleman."

"To your credit," she quipped.

John Barrington chuckled his approval of the young woman's spirit and the reprimand she dealt with such flair. His boy, however, remained stoically silent.

"She beat you like a rented mule, fair and square, Jacob," John Barrington chuckled. "Well done, Miss Beau-Boucher. I've gotta hand it to you, you've got spunk. But about you wantin' the position headin' our household, well, that's a whole nuther thing." He scratched his head with a doubtful look on his handsome, weathered face, "I was actually lookin' for an older woman."

She was disappointed but relieved at the same time. She nodded and looked briefly away before she looked at the patriarch of the Barrington family. "I fully understand, Mr. Barrington," she said. "I won't take up more of your time. Thank you for speaking with me. Good afternoon, sir," she said without doing the same for his son, and turned to leave.

"Now wait just a minute, young lady!" John Barrington said.

She turned with a quizzical look in her big eyes.

"I didn't say no," he said as he looked at her big eyes. "Tell ya what," he nodded, "any woman who can hold her own against Jacob is worth a second look. And since we're gettin' tired of my youngest boy's whatever-the-heck-he's-been-whippin'-up for supper, and seeing it's nearin' that time of day, why not come in out of the sun and I'll show you where the kitchen is. If you can whip up a simple meal not pre-frozen, pre-instant, or pre-boxed, the position is yours. If not, you'll still get a full day's pay and be on your way. Sounds fair?"

She looked stunned at him.

"Well?"

"I-I-I..." Then she made a furtive look at the silent cowboy on the verandah. "Yes, Mr. Barrington. Very fair." She nodded. She could use the money and it's just a few hours anyway. What did she have to lose? Then she smiled. "I would like to take you up on your offer, sir. Thank you."

"Then let's get to it," John Barrington said with a smile and a nod of his head.

Jacob Barrington dropped his gloved hands from the railing as he straightened and looked at her. His gaze never left her as he approached the steps just as she followed John Barrington up them, but when he took them down and they came shoulder to shoulder, he paused and she looked curiously at him. Up close, Jacob Barrington was even more handsome... and intimidating.

"Don't get your hopes us, Miss Beau-Boucher," he said with an unmistakable tone of warning.

Her smile faded some as she looked a little alarmed into his piercing blue eyes. "Thank you, Mister Jacob. I'll take that under consideration," she said politely although she looked anxious.

He didn't say more as he resumed his way, dismissing her already.

"Don't let Jacob rattle you, Miss Beau-Boucher. You might not know it by his attitude today, but my son's good with the ladies. He's just testin' you, as I'm sure you know. Now let me show you the kitchen where you can show your skills and whip us up a meal like you say you can. I promise you," he said as he held open the screen door for her, "Jacob will be happier than a boardinghouse pup with some good home-cookin', tell ya what."

She smiled, hiding her aggravation with that Jacob Barrington, and nodded. "I won't disappoint you, sir."

"Call me, John," he offered.

"If it's the same to you, sir, I'd rather address you with Mister Barrington," she said. "It's what I was brought up to do."

"Suit yourself."

"But you may call me, Isabella, if you like."

He smiled. "Beautiful name." He nodded. "I just might do that...Isabella," he said.

She smiled as she nodded and entered the cool house with John Barrington behind her. He showed the way to what would turn out to be a somewhat barren but well-equipped and well-stocked Barrington kitchen and pantry.

Although the house was furnished with a woman's touch, there was no woman in sight, and it looked as if there hadn't been one for some time. It wouldn't be her place to ask where Mrs. John Barrington was, assuming that the woman had passed away and that's why they needed a housekeeper and cook.

Then, to her surprise, she saw a young and beautiful woman with chestnut brown hair standing halfway on the elegant stairs. She was wearing a green and brown checkered dress and had paused on her way down when she saw her. She instantly knew by the look on the young woman's face that she wasn't happy to see her. This couldn't be John Barrington's wife, could it?

Then John Barrington himself wiped all doubt when he called, "Elena!" the moment he spied her on the stairs. "Have ya changed the sheets on all the beds?"

Definitely not Mrs. John Barrington.

Elena gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Am busy doin' it now, John."

"Still?"

She only smiled as she turned and climbed up the stairs again.

John Barrington shook his head. "She's like a blister, that one," he said with a sigh.

She frowned, confused. "Excuse me, sir?"

"That one never shows up till all the work's done," he said as he resumed his way.

"Oh." Then she looked up to find Elena glaring hostile down on her. She knew the young woman had heard John Barrington's colorful words, and she felt a little sorry for her so she smiled and nodded a hello. She got a cold glare in return. Her smile faded before she quietly followed John Barrington down the hall.

**~*~**

Chapter 2

Jacob was in the horse stables giving orders to the ranch hands. He was overseeing the work of cleaning out the soiled hay from the fourteen stalls that held fourteen of the finest riding horses in Texas. As a Barrington, neither one of his brothers nor he shied away from hard work. They all stood side-by-side with all the ranch hands all the time.

As he took a huge bale of fresh hay in his big arms, a more slender built golden-haired cowboy rushed excitedly into the stables. The look on his young handsome face beneath the brim of his dark brown hat told his older brother he'd met the new woman in the family kitchen.

"Hey Jake!" James Barrington called as he rushed up to his older brother who had just tossed a large bale of hay onto the growing tower by the south wall.

"Whoa there, James! Ain't it too hot to be runnin' like the devils nippin' at your heels?" Jacob said, chuckling, and his smile smoothed out the hard lines in his generally stoic face.

"Speakin' of hot, there's this really pretty gal back at the house in the kitchen whippin' up a helluva meal! I think she's made corn bread from scratch! Have ya seen her yet?" James asked excitedly as he came to a sprinting halt by his older brother; powder blues bright and full of excitement.

"Yeah. We've met," Jacob said as he twisted his lean waist and reached for another bale of fresh hay.

"Doggone it, Jake! She's got her some eyes on her! Never seen eyes like hers on any gal. Biggest and brightest blue," James gushed with young male admiration.

"Dime o' dozen."

"And she's got hair blacker'n midnight under a skillet," James continued to gush, not hearing his brother's scoff.

James dropped back his dreamy head against the rough wooden wall, and let his romantic thoughts fly every which way while his brother silently worked. Then he frowned and lifted his head as he looked at his older brother tossing another bale of hay onto the rising stack.

"You think Pa'll keep her, Jake? I mean, if he did, we'd have the prettiest cook in whole of Bellville—maybe even Texas!"

"Keep her? You're makin' her out to be some stray dog or somethin'," Jacob chuckled as he looked at his younger, more sensitive brother. "Just a week ago you said that gal, Reese, is the prettiest gal in all of Bellville and Texas."

"Oh, yea, Reese." The excitement drained from his face.

Jacob frowned with a curious smile. "You look like your cheese fell off your cracker, James. What? Reese ain't the prettiest anymore then?"

"Yea, I reckon she still is pretty, but she's hooked up with that quarterback in college. There's no way I can best that," he said as he shook his head.

"Yea well, doesn't surprise me. You're uglier than sin anyhow," Jacob teased with a chuckle and promptly got a punch in the arm for it, but at least he got James to stop sulking about that pretty gal he's been eyeing since High School.

"You're a horse's ass, Jake, you know that?" James said wryly, making his older brother laugh heartily. "Anyhow, with a gal like the one back at the house at my side, I bet she'd even make Reese green with envy. She'd be the prettiest on campus, that's for sure."

"Whoa now, young buck," Jacob quickly interjected. "Now, don't go thinkin' she's come down to the ranch to find herself a poke. Hearin' and seein' what I've heard and seen, she ain't gonna be here long enough to make a shadow."

"That's not what I'd seen. I think she's gonna stay."

"Yea, that's just wishful thinkin' you're doin'." Jacob shook his head as he tossed another bale on a stack, making it look as if the thing didn't way a ton like it did. "You said so yourself, she's pretty and pretty gals don't become housekeepers and cooks."

"Like I said?" James cried in disbelief. "All the pokes around the ranch have been talkin' about nuthin' else than that pretty gal."

"They'd been in the sun too long."

"Oh right!" James scoffed. "Like you ain't got eyes in your stubborn head! I know you'd seen how pretty she is, too—"

"—James!" another deep male voice barked, and both brothers looked up to find the oldest Barrington brother on horseback appearing outside the high and wide open stable doors. He looked disapprovingly at the youngest whelp of the family. "Thought Pa told you to get the pickup and git to town to fetch supplies?"

"I was gonna! I just stopped by to talk to Jake, is all." James looked put out.

Jacob laughed, clapping his baby brother on his back. "Enough talk. Git your lazy ass in gear, James!" he said, laughing before he firmly shoved him forward as James chuckled and was just able to avoid a quick boot-kick from his blondest brother as he scampered out the other way.

John Jr. dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to a ranch hand that had rushed over to him. The moment their younger brother was out of sight, tension developed in the stables. There was some bad blood between the two older brothers, and the light mood in the stables evaporated.

Jacob's smile vanished as he turned and resumed his work, hearing his brother saunter over to the big porcelain sink to splash his face and cup a hand of cold water for a refreshing drink. It became uncomfortably quiet, making the few ranch hands who had returned walk on eggshells.

"Coulda used your help repairin' Parcel-nine's fencing," John Jr. said without looking at his younger brother as he switched off the faucets.

"Shoulda asked," Jacob replied.

"Reckon you'd get the hint this mornin' at breakfast when I said there's more damage done to the fencing than we'd first figured," John Jr.'s sterling blues were as cold as ice in his tanned handsome face as he turned to look at the broad back of his younger, most difficult brother.

Jacob tossed the bale of hay in the last stack, and then he turned to look at his older brother from under the rim of his hat, his handsome face grim and his full lips near tightened into a single line.

"Yeah well, I didn't. Next time you need my help, Junior, best ask for it 'stead of droppin' hints my groggy head don't pick up that early in the day," he said before he turned and stalked away as John Jr.'s eyes narrowed on Jacob's broad back.

"I'll do that! Reckon I'll put it writin' next time just so you don't forget!" John Jr. called after him, but Jacob didn't respond and was out the stables with long, angry strides, hinting at an explosive and dangerous temper every cowpoke from there to northern Texas knew better than to taunt.

**~*~**

Isabella was as energetic and as swift as she could be as she moved around the big Barrington kitchen. She was rushing from the counter to the stove where one giant pot was steaming with hearty brisket stew; another was steaming with boiled potatoes. The oven was filled with two trays of biscuits made from scratch. Although John Barrington told her to "whip up a simple meal" she wanted to show her best side, and it was a good thing the Barrington pantry and freezers were well stocked so she could do just that.

The Barringtons had a formal dining room, but John Barrington told her to deck the big round kitchen table instead. This wasn't unusual to her since back home, the grand dining room was reserved for formal dinner parties. Her family usually dined in a secondary dining room where it was more casual and easier accessible for kitchen staff.

Having decked the round kitchen table with a white and red-checkered tablecloth, she set a basket with freshly baked cornbread in the center to cool. Four plain but rather large porcelain plates were neatly set with silverware neatly placed beside them.

Although it was a sterile kitchen—translate: no frills—it was equipped with all the modern-day appliances ranging from two microwaves to a super-sized dishwasher. But it could use some color, some wall decorations, or at the very least, drapes.

She had all the appliances going since she saw it was nearing five. Five-thirty was when the Barringtons sat down for dinner. She'd been at it for about two hours now and she only had less than an hour left.

Fresh coffee was already in the coffeemaker ready to go, and she set tall blue glasses by their plates for the milk that they apparently had with their evening meals. She was certain that her peach cobbler would convince Jacob Barrington to be sorry for driving her off. She was certain that after they had a taste of her cooking, she'd prove herself an asset that got away.

Aside from the fact that her resources were running frighteningly low, she realized that this place could have offered the perfect place to lay low until something changed back home. Until then, she planned to stay away from Louisiana and Connecticut.

It had never been her choice to leave her home, her friends, and her privileged life behind and end up as a housekeeper and cook at some cattle ranch. She didn't mind strenuous physical work although she was actually born and bred for a more genteel way of life.