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distraction.
    He’d been here less than an hour. Seducing the ranch cook within the first sixty minutes of arriving was not his style, but he’d come damned close to doing exactly that. He was the kind of man who liked to take it easy and work up to things. That was one of the qualities that made him a good horse trainer. So he needed to dial it back several notches.
    Pushing open the screen door, he took in the welcome sight of six cowhands playing poker on a battered wooden table positioned in the middle of what was obviously the bunkhouse kitchen. They’d fortified themselves with beer, soda and various kinds of chips. A couple had cigars going. They all looked up from their cards as Matthew walked in.
    “Hey, Matthew!” Jeb folded his hand and laid it on the table. “Let me introduce you to everybody.” He pointed to a dark-haired cowboy on his left. “This joker is Tucker Rankin. He’s only here for a couple of nights while his fiancée is at some forestry conference in Spokane, but the rest of these bozos live here full-time, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with them and their snoring.”
    “Speak for yourself, carrot-top,” a rugged blond guy said. “You’re a damned buzz-saw.”
    “Am not, Shorty. That’s coming from Danny’s bunk.”
    “Hey!” A guy with prominent ears pointed his cigar at Jeb. “I do not snore. And that’s a fact.” He stood and extended his hand to Matthew. “Nice to meet you, Tredway. I’m Danny Lancaster. I admire your work.”
    “Thanks.” Matthew transferred his dessert to his left hand so he could accept the handshakes of the rest of the poker players as they introduced themselves. Besides Shorty LaBeff and Danny Lancaster, the two cigar smokers, the table included Bob Gilbert, who wore wire-rimmed glasses, and Frank Delaney, who had a neatly trimmed mustache.
    Danny glanced at Matthew’s bowl of figs. “Those things look familiar. The trash is over yonder.” He gestured with his thumb.
    “Thanks, but I’m going to eat them.”
    “Don’t put yourself through it. She’ll never know the difference.” Danny reached for the bowl. “Here, let me get rid of—”
    “No!” Matthew jerked it back. “I want these! If the figs are half as good as the meal she fed me, they’ll be great.”
    Danny stared at him, and then he broke into a wide grin that eventually turned to a chuckle and wound up as a belly laugh. Soon all the other cowhands were laughing, too.
    “That’s a good one, Tredway!” Danny clapped him on the back. “For a second there, I thought you were serious.”
    “He couldn’t have been serious.” Bob pulled out his shirttail and began polishing his glasses. “But it was good for a laugh.”
    “I am serious.”
    That set everyone off again.
    “Yeah, right.” Shorty grinned before sticking his cigar in the corner of his mouth. “Okay, joke’s over. Pull up a chair, Tredway. Let’s play some cards.”
    Matthew dragged a chair over and sat at the table. “I’m not kidding, guys. I enjoyed the meal Aurelia fed me.”
    Tucker, the guy who was only staying overnight, stared at him. “Then she must not have given you the lunch leftovers, because that stuff was awful.”
    “You can say that again.” Frank picked up his cards. “What’d she call it?”
    “Something French-sounding.” Bob looked at his cards and put them face-down on the table. “Shetty fou lardy, or something like that. And I’m here to tell you it was definitely shetty.”
    “She gave me what you all had,” Matthew said.
    Frank wrinkled his nose, which made his mustache twitch. “Then you must possess different taste buds from the rest of us, because I don’t know a single person besides you who liked it.”
    Matthew was walking a fine line if he wanted to avoid insulting these men, so he spoke with care. “I admit it was unusual, but as much traveling as I do, I’m used to eating what’s put in front of me. I guess it’s possible that along the way my tastes have