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A Family for the Rugged Rancher / Soldier on Her Doorstep: A Family for the Rugged Rancher / Soldier on Her Doorstep
DONNA ALWARD
Soraya Lane
Dare to dream… these sparkling romances will make you laugh, cry and fall in love – again and again!A Family for the Rugged RancherGruff rancher Luke’s new live-in housekeeper comes with an unexpected addition…a small son! Emily may be a pretty single mum but a family’s not on this bachelor’s wish list! Yet, slowly charmed by Emily and Sam, Luke begins to wonder if there might be room on his ranch – and in his heart – for a family after all…Soldier on Her DoorstepSoldier Alex promised his dying comrade he’d make sure his wife and daughter were okay. Alex was prepared for tears, but not for the beautiful woman who answered the door – or the little girl hiding behind her. Could Lisa and Lilly help to heal the hero’s heart?



A FAMILY FOR
THE RUGGED
RANCHER
DONNA ALWARD

SOLDIER ON
HER DOORSTEP
SORAYA LANE




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A FAMILY FOR THE RUGGED RANCHER
DONNA ALWARD

About the Author
A busy wife and mother of three (two daughters and the family dog), DONNA ALWARD believes hers is the best job in the world: a combination of stay-at-home mum and romance novelist. An avid reader since childhood, Donna always made up her own stories. She completed her Arts Degree in English Literature in 1994, but it wasn’t until 2001 that she penned her first full-length novel and found herself hooked on writing romance. In 2006 she sold her first manuscript, and now writes warm, emotional stories for Mills & Boon’s Cherish line.
In her new home office in Nova Scotia, Donna loves being back on the east coast of canada after nearly twelve years in Alberta, where her career began, writing about cowboys and the west. Donna’s debut Romance, Hired by the Cowboy, was awarded the booksellers best Award in 2008 for best traditional Romance.
With the Atlantic Ocean only minutes from her doorstep, Donna has found a fresh take on life and promises even more great romances in the near future!
Donna loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website at www.donnaalward.com or her page at www.myspace.com/dalward.
Dear Reader,
Before I was blessed to turn writing stories into a career, I was a stay-at-home mom. It has been the toughest—and best—job I’ve ever had. I have never regretted having those precious years at home. And I am very fortunate to have a husband who supported me one hundred percent.
But every now and then I wondered—what would happen if suddenly I was left to provide for our children on my own? I was employed before they were born, but how difficult would it be to get back into the workforce, make ends meet, and still be there for them in the way I wanted? That’s exactly what happens to Emily in A Family for the Rugged Rancher. I like Emily. Yes, she’s been hurt, but she’s pulled up her socks to do what’s best for her son. She’s a good mother. She does what I hope I would have done if i’d found myself in those circumstances. cope—with a smile.
of course Luke is dealing with his own issues, and one many of us face as time ticks on: aging parents. He needs someone to bring him out of his shell. To show him all the rich possibilities of the future. And that someone is Emily.
I often hear people say that romance novels are unrealistic fairy tales, but I don’t agree. My characters aren’t just characters—they’re people trying to deal with issues we all face in our lives. And when life gets bad sometimes it’s nice to know—just for a while—that the sun is going to peek from beneath that cloud. I’m here to say that fairy tales happen. There are such things as happy endings.
I hope you find your happy ending too!
warm wishes,
Donna


A great editor is worth her weight in gold.
To Sally, for her constant faith that I’m up to the task. It
means more than you know.

CHAPTER ONE
“ARE WE HERE, Mama? Is Daddy here?”
Emily smiled, though Sam’s innocent question made her heart quiver. Sam looked for Rob everywhere, never giving up hope no matter how often he was disappointed. “Yes,” she replied, “we’re here. But Daddy’s not coming, remember? I’m here to start a brand-new job.”
She touched the brake pedal as she entered the farmyard of Evans and Son. It was bigger than she’d imagined, sprawling across several acres criss-crossed with fence lines and dotted with leafy green poplar trees. She slowed as she approached the plain white two-story house that rested at the end of the drive. It was flanked on one side by a gigantic barn and on the other by a large workshop with two oversized garage doors. More outbuildings were interspersed throughout the yard, all of them tidy and well-kept. The grass around them was newly clipped and the bits of peeling paint made for a broken-in look rather than broken-down.
Evans and Son looked to be doing all right in the overall scheme of things—which was more than Emily could say for her family. But she was going to change all that. Starting today.
She parked to the right of the house, inhaling deeply and letting out a slow breath, trying to steady herself. When she looked into the back seat, she saw Sam’s eyes opening, taking a moment to focus and realize the vehicle had stopped.
“But I want to see Daddy.”
“I know, baby.” Emily told herself to be patient, he was only five. “Once we’re settled, I’ll help you write a letter. Maybe you can draw him a picture. What do you think?”
Sam’s eyes still held that trace of confusion and sadness that had the power to hurt Emily more than anything else. Sam had been clingier than usual lately. It was hardly a surprise. She’d put the house up for sale and their things in storage. She’d announced that they were leaving the city, which also meant leaving playschool friends and everything familiar, and a five-year-old couldn’t be expected to understand her reasons. But the house in Calgary held too many memories—happy and devastating by turns. Both Emily and Sam were stuck in wishing for the past—a past that was long over. Rob had moved on, withdrawing not only his financial support but, more importantly, severing emotional ties with both of them.
Emily would never understand that, especially where his son was concerned. But now it was time to let go and build a new life. One where they could be happy. One where Emily could support her son and find her own way rather than wishing for what should have been. There was a certain freedom to be found in knowing she could make her own decisions now. Her choices were hers to make and hers alone. A massive responsibility, but a liberating one, too.
She reminded herself that a happier life for the two of them was why she was here. “Wait here for just a moment while I knock on the door, okay? Then we’ll get settled, I promise.”
“It’s quiet here.”
“I know.” Emily smiled, trying to be encouraging. “But there is still sound. Listen closely, Sam, and when I get back you can tell me what you heard.”
Sam had only ever lived in the city, with the sounds of traffic and sirens and voices his usual background music. But Emily remembered what it was like to live outside the metropolitan area, where the morning song wasn’t honking horns but birds warbling in the caragana bushes and the shush of the breeze through poplar leaves. For the first time in months, she was starting to feel hope that this was all going to turn out all right.
“Wait here, okay? Let me talk to Mr. Evans first, and then I’ll come for you.”
“Okay, Mama.” Sam reached over and picked up his favorite storybook, the Dr. Seuss one with the tongue twisters that he’d practically memorized. Emily paused, her tender smile wavering just a little. Sometimes Sam seemed to see and understand too much. Had the breakdown of her marriage forced her son to grow up too soon?
“I won’t be long, sweetie.” Emily blew him a kiss, shut the car door and straightened her T-shirt, smoothing it over the hips of her denim capris. It was really important that everything got off on the right foot, so she practiced smiling, wanting it to seem natural and not show her nervousness. She climbed the few steps to the front porch, gathered her courage and rapped sharply on the door.
No one answered.
This was not a great beginning, and doubts crept in, making her wonder if it was a sign that she was making a big mistake with this whole idea. Selling the house and uprooting the two of them was a bit of a radical move, she knew that. She glanced back at the car only feet away and saw Sam’s dark head still bent over his book. No, this was best. Her experience as a mom and homemaker was what made her perfect for this job, she realized. She’d loved being a stay-at-home mom, and being with Sam was the most important thing.
Maybe Mr. Evans simply hadn’t heard her. She knocked again, folding her hands. It was a bit nerve-wracking being hired for a job sight unseen. She’d interviewed at the agency but this was different. She’d have to pass Mr. Evans’s tests, too. He had the final say. When was the last time she’d had a real interview? All of her résumés over the last year had been sent out without so much as a nibble in return. No one wanted to hire a lab tech who’d been out of the work force for the past five years.
She forced herself to stay calm, stave off the disappointment she felt as her second knock also went unanswered.
“Can I help you?”
The voice came from her right and her stomach twisted into knots as a man approached from the shop, wiping dirty hands on a rag. This was Mr. Evans? He looked younger than she was, for heaven’s sake. He wore faded jeans and dusty roper boots, his long stride eating up the ground between them. His baseball cap shaded his eyes so that she couldn’t quite see them. The dark T-shirt he wore was stained with grease, stretched taut over a muscled chest. All in all he had the look of honest work about him. And honest work ranked high on her list of attributes lately, she thought bitterly. Good looks didn’t.
“I … I’m Emily Northcott. I’m here from the agency?” She hated how uncertain that sounded, so she amended, “From Maid on Demand.”
There was a slight pause in his stride while Emily went back down the steps. They met at the bottom, the grass tickling Emily’s toes in her sandals as she held out her hand.
The man held up his right hand. “Luke Evans. I’d better not. You don’t want to get grease on your hands.”
Embarrassment crept hotly up her cheeks, both because she knew she should have realized his hands would be dirty and because of his flat tone. Emily dropped her hand to her side and tried a smile. “Oh, right. I hope we … I … haven’t come at a bad time.”
“Just fixing some machinery in the shed. I heard the car pull up. Wasn’t expecting you though.”
“Didn’t the agency call?”
“I’m not often in the house to answer the phone.” He stated it as if it were something obvious that she’d missed.
Emily frowned. His communication skills could use some work. Didn’t he have a cell phone like most normal people? Or voice mail? Or was he being deliberately difficult?
“I was specifically given today as a start date and directions to your place, Mr. Evans.”
He tucked the rag into the back pocket of his jeans. “They probably called my sister. She’s the one who placed the ad.”
“Your sister?”
“My sister Cait. They might have tried there, but she’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I hope it’s nothing serious.” His answers were so clipped they merely prompted more questions, but his stance and attitude didn’t exactly inspire her to ask them.
Finally he gave in and smiled. Just a little, and it looked like it pained him to do so. But pain or not, the look changed his face completely. The icy blue of his eyes thawed a tad and when he smiled, matching creases formed on either side of his mouth. “Nothing too serious,” he replied. “She’s having a baby.”
The news made his smile contagious and Emily smiled back, then caught herself. She clenched her fingers, nervous all over again. She hadn’t really given a thought to age … or to the fact that the rancher looking for a housekeeper might be somewhat attractive. What surprised her most was that she noticed at all. Those thoughts had no place in her head right now, considering the scars left from her last relationship and her determination not to put herself through that again.
And Evans wasn’t a looker, not in a classic turn-your-head handsome sort of way. But there was something about the tilt of his smile, as though he was telling a joke. Or the way that his cornflower-blue eyes seemed to see right into her. He had inordinately pretty eyes for a man, she thought ridiculously. Had she really thought “somewhat” attractive? She swallowed. He was long, lean and muscled, and his voice held a delicious bit of grit. His strength made up for the lack of pretty. More than made up for it.
Suddenly, being a housekeeper to a single man in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem like the bright idea it had been a week ago.
“The agency hired me,” she repeated.
He let out a short laugh. “So you said.”
Emily resisted the urge to close her eyes, wondering if he’d seen clear through to her last thoughts. Maybe the prairie could just open up and swallow her, and save her more embarrassment. “Right.”
“You’re able to start today?”
Hope surged as she opened her eyes and found him watching her steadily. He wasn’t giving her the brush-off straight away after all. “Yes, sir.” She forced a smile. “I can start today.”
“Mom, can’t I come out now? It’s hot in here.”
The nerves in Emily’s stomach froze as Sam’s soft voice came from the car. Luke’s head swiveled in the direction of the car, and Emily gave in and sighed. Dammit. She hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Evans about their arrangements or anything. A muscle ticked in Luke’s jaw and he looked back at her, the smile gone now, the edges of his jaw hard and forbidding.
“My son, Sam,” she said weakly.
“You have children.”
“Child—just Sam. He’s five and no trouble, I promise. Good as gold.” That was stretching it a bit; Sam was a typical five-year-old who was as prone to curiosity and frustrations as any child his age. She looked again at Evans and knew she had to convince him. He was the one who’d advertised. She’d gone through the agency screening and they had hired her for the job. If this didn’t work out she had nowhere to go. And she wanted to stay here. She’d liked the look of the place straight off.
Another moment and he’d have her begging. She straightened her shoulders. She would not beg. Not ever again. She could always go to her parents. It wasn’t what she wanted, and there’d be a fair amount of told-you-so. Her parents had never quite taken to Rob, and the divorce hadn’t come as a big surprise to them. It wasn’t that they didn’t love her or would deny her help. It was just.
She needed to do this herself. To prove to herself she could and to be the parent that Sam deserved. She couldn’t rely on other people to make this right. Not even her parents.
“Mrs. Northcott, this is a ranch, not a day care.” The smile that had captivated her only moments before had disappeared, making his face a frozen mask. The warm crinkles around his lips and eyes were now frown marks and Emily felt her good intentions go spiraling down the proverbial drain.
“It’s Ms.,” she pointed out tartly. It wasn’t her fault that there’d been a mix-up. “And Sam is five, hardly a toddler who needs following around all the time.” She raised an eyebrow. “Mothers have been cleaning and cooking and raising children since the beginning of time, Mr. Evans.”
She heard the vinegar in her voice and felt badly for speaking so sharply, but she was a package deal and the annoyance that had marked his face when he heard Sam’s voice put her back up.
“I’m well aware of that. However, I didn’t advertise for a family. I advertised for a housekeeper.”
“Your sister—” she made sure to point out the distinction “—advertised with Maid on Demand Domestics. If any part of that ad wasn’t clear, perhaps you need to speak to them. The agency is aware I have a son, so perhaps there was a flaw with the ad. I interviewed for the job and I got it.” She lifted her chin. “Perhaps you would have been better off going without an agency?”
She knew her sharp tongue was probably shooting her chances in the foot, but she couldn’t help it. She was hardly to blame. Nor would she be made to feel guilty or be bullied, not anymore. If he didn’t want her services, he could just say so.
“It’s not that … I tried putting an ad in the paper and around town … oh, why am I explaining this to you?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets despite any grease remaining on his fingers.
“If it’s that you don’t like children …” That would make her decision much easier. She wouldn’t make Sam stay in an unfriendly environment. No job was worth that. She backed up a step and felt her hands tightening into anxious fists.
“I didn’t say that.” His brow wrinkled. He was clearly exasperated.
She caught a hint of desperation in his voice and thought perhaps all wasn’t lost. “Then your objection to my son is …”
“Mom!” The impatient call came from the car and Emily gritted her teeth.
“Excuse me just a moment,” she muttered, going to the car to speak to Sam.
It was hot inside the car, and Emily figured she had nothing to lose now. “You can get out,” she said gently, opening the door. “Sorry I made you wait so long.”
“Are we staying here?”
“I’m not sure.”
Sam held his mother’s hand … something he rarely did any more since he’d started preschool and considered himself a big boy. Perhaps Evans simply needed to meet Sam and talk to him. It had to be harder to say no to children, right? It wasn’t Sam’s fault his life had been turned upside down. Emily was trying to do the right thing for him. A summer in the country had sounded perfect. This place was new and different with no history, no bad memories. She just needed to show Evans that Sam would be no extra trouble.
“Mr. Evans, this is my son, Sam.”
Evans never cracked a smile. “Sam.”
“Sir,” Sam replied. Emily was vastly proud that Sam lifted his chin the tiniest bit, though his voice was absolutely respectful.
Emily put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “The agency did know about him, Mr. Evans. I’m not trying to pull a fast one here. If it’s a deal-breaker, tell me now and take it up with them. But you should know that I’m fully qualified for this job. I know how to cook and clean and garden. I’m not afraid of hard work and you won’t be sorry you hired me.”
He shook his head, and Emily noticed again the color of his eyes, a brilliant shade of blue that seemed to pierce straight through her. Straightforward, honest eyes. She liked that. Except for the fact that his gaze made her want to straighten her hair or fuss with the hem of her shirt. She did neither.
“I’m sorry,” he replied.
That was it, then. Maybe he had a kind side somewhere but it didn’t extend to giving her the job. She would not let him see the disappointment sinking through her body to her toes, making the weight of her situation that much heavier to carry. She wouldn’t let it matter. She’d bounced back from worse over the last year. She’d find something else.
“I’m sorry I’ve taken up your time,” she said politely. She took Sam’s hand and turned back towards her car.
“Where are you going?”
His surprised voice made her halt and turn back. He’d taken off his cap and was now running his hand over his short-clipped hair. It was sandy-brown, she noticed. The same color as his T-shirt.
“I never said the job wasn’t yours. I was apologizing.”
Is that what that was? Emily wanted to ask but sensed things were at a delicate balance right now and could go either way. She simply nodded, holding her breath.
“The job description said room and board included.” She was pushing it, but this had to be settled before either of them agreed to anything. She felt Sam’s small hand in hers. She wanted to give him a summer like the ones she remembered. Open spaces and simple pleasures. Some peace and quiet and new adventures rather than the reminders of their once happy life as a whole family. Life wasn’t going to be the same again, and Emily didn’t know what to do to make it better anymore. And this farm—it was perfect. She could smell the sweet fragrance of lilacs in the air. The lawn was huge, more than big enough for a child to play. She’d glimpsed a garden on the way in, and she imagined showing Sam how to tell weeds from vegetables and picking peas and beans later in the summer when they were plump and ripe.
“I offered room and board, but only for one. Adding an extra is unexpected.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get in your way,” she assured him quickly, hearing the edge of desperation in her voice, knowing she was this close to hearing him say yes. “And we can adjust my pay if that helps.” She wished she weren’t so transparent. She didn’t want him to know how badly she wanted this to work out. She was willing to compromise. Was he?
Pride warred with want at this moment. She didn’t want to tell Luke Evans how much it would mean for them to stay here, but seeing the look of wonder on Sam’s face as he spotted a hawk circling above, following its movements until it settled on a fence post, searching for mice or prairie dogs … She’d do anything to keep that going. Even if it meant sacrificing her pride just a little bit.
“Little boys probably don’t eat much. If you’re sure to keep him out of the way. I have a farm to run, Ms. Northcott.”
He put a slight emphasis on the Ms., but she ignored it as excitement rushed through her. He was doing it! He was giving her the job, kid and all. For the first time in five years she would be earning her own money. She was making a first step towards self-reliance, and she’d done it all on her own. Today keeping house for Luke Evans … who knew what the future would hold? She reveled in the feeling of optimism, something that had been gone for a long time. She offered a small smile and wondered what he was thinking. She would make sure he didn’t regret it and that Sam would mean little disruption to his house. “You mean we can stay?”
“You’re a housekeeper, aren’t you? The agency did hire you.”
The acid tone was back, so she merely nodded, the curl at her temple flopping.
“And you did say you could cook and clean. I’m counting on it.”
She smiled at him then, a new confidence filling her heart. Lordy, he was so stern! But perhaps he could smile once in a while. Maybe she could make him. Right now she felt as though she could do anything.
“Oh, yes. That’s definitely not an omission or exaggeration. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom since Sam was born. I promise you, Mr. Evans, I can clean, cook and do laundry with my eyes closed.” She could sew, too, and make origami animals out of plain paper and construct Halloween costumes out of some cardboard, newspaper and string. The latter skills probably weren’t a high priority on a ranch.
“Just remember this is a working ranch, not a summer camp. There is a lot of work to be done and a lot of machinery around. Make sure the boy doesn’t cause any trouble, or go where he shouldn’t be going.”
“His name is Sam, and you have my word.” She’d watch Sam with eyes in the back of her head if she had to. She had a job. And one where she could still be there for Sam—so important right now as he went through the stress of a family breakup.
“Then bring your things inside. I’ll show you around quickly. Bear in mind I was unprepared for you, so none of the rooms are ready. You’ll have to do that yourself while I fix the baler.”
He was letting them stay. She knew she should just accept it and be grateful, but she also knew it was not what he’d wanted or planned, and she felt compelled to give him one more chance to be sure. “Are you certain? I don’t want to put you out, Mr. Evans. It’s obvious this is a surprise for you. I don’t want you to feel obligated. We can find other accommodation.”
He paused. “You need this job, don’t you?”
He gave her a pointed look and Emily shifted her gaze to her feet. She added a mental note: not only stern but keenly sharp, too. Yes, she did need the job. Until the money went through from the sale of the house, they were on a shoestring and even then their circumstances would be drastically changed. It was why they’d had to sell in the first place. With no money coming in and Rob neglecting to pay child support, the savings account had dried up quickly and she couldn’t afford to make the mortgage payments. She couldn’t hide the frayed straps of her sandals and the older model, no-frills vehicle she drove instead of the luxury sedan she’d traded in six months ago. Everything was different. It wasn’t the hardest thing about the divorce, but after a while a woman couldn’t ignore practicalities.
He took her silence as assent. “And I need someone to look after the house. It doesn’t make sense for you to pay to stay somewhere else, and days are long here. The deal was room and board, so that’s what you’ll get. How much trouble can one boy be, anyway?”

CHAPTER TWO
LUKE TRIED TO keep his body relaxed as he held open the screen door, but Emily Northcott was making it difficult. Whatever she had put on for perfume that morning teased his nostrils. It was light and pretty, just like her. Her short hair was the color of mink and curled haphazardly around her face, like the hair cover models had that was meant to look deliberately casual. And she had the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen, fringed with thick dark lashes.
When he’d first advertised for a housekeeper, Emily was not what he’d had in mind. He’d figured on someone local, someone, well, older to answer his ad. A motherly figure with graying hair, definitely not someone who looked like Emily. Someone who lived nearby who could arrive in the morning and leave again at dinnertime. But when his local ads had gone unanswered week after week, he’d put Cait on the job. She’d been getting so clucky and meddling as her pregnancy progressed. He’d thought it would be a good project for her and would keep her out of his hair. It was only the promise of getting outside help that had ceased her constant baking and fussing over the house. Not that he didn’t need the help. He did, desperately. But having Cait underfoot all the time had been driving him crazy.
Maid on Demand had seemed like the perfect solution, anonymous and impersonal. Except now he’d ended up worse off than ever—with a beautiful woman with a family of her own, 24/7.
He should have said no, flat-out.
He’d be a bald-faced liar if he said Emily Northcott wasn’t the prettiest woman to pass through his door in months. Just the scent of her put him on alert. Not that he was in the market for a girlfriend. But he was human, after all.
But what could he say? No, you can’t stay because you’re too pretty? Because you’re too young? She couldn’t be more than thirty. And then there was her son. How could he turn her away for that reason either? He’d have to be cold-hearted to use that against her. So far the boy had hardly made a peep. And it was only for a few months, after all. Once things wound down later in the fall, he’d be better able to handle things on his own.
“Have a look around,” he suggested, as the screen door slapped shut behind them. “I’m going to wash up. I’ve had my hands inside the baler for the better part of the afternoon. Then I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
He left her standing in the entry hall while he went to the kitchen and turned on the tap. The whole idea of hiring help was to make his summer easier, not add more responsibility to it. But that was exactly how it felt. If she stayed, it meant two extra bodies to provide for over the next few months. Twice as many mouths to feed than he’d expected. And having that sort of responsibility—whether real or implied—was something he never wanted to do again. He liked his life plain, simple and uncomplicated. Or at least as uncomplicated as it could be considering his family circumstances.
He scrubbed the grease from his hands with the pumice paste, taking a nail brush and relentlessly applying it to his nails. The plain truth was that not one soul had applied for the job—not even a teenager looking for summer work. Cait had put the listing with the agency nearly three weeks ago. Things were in full swing now and he needed the help. Luke was already working sun-up to sundown. The housework was falling behind, and he was tired of eating a dry sandwich when he came in at the end of the day. He was barely keeping up with the laundry, putting a load in when he was falling-down tired at night.
They could stay as long as it meant they stayed out of his way. He didn’t have time for babysitting along with everything else.
When he returned from the kitchen, Emily was in the living room on the right, her fingertips running over the top of an old radio and record player that had long ceased to work and that now held a selection of family photos on its wooden cover. His heart contracted briefly, seeing her gentle hands on the heirloom, but he pushed the feeling aside and cleared his throat. “You ready?”
“This is beautiful. And very old.”
He nodded. “It was my grandparents'. They used to play records on it. Some of the LPs are still inside, but the player doesn’t work anymore.”
“And this is your family?”
Luke stepped forward and looked at the assortment of photos. There were three graduation pictures—him and his sisters when they’d each completed twelfth grade. Cait’s and Liz’s wedding pictures were there as well, and baby pictures of Liz’s children. Soon Cait’s new baby would be featured there, too. There was a picture of three children all together, taken one golden autumn several years earlier, and in the middle sat a picture of his parents, his dad sitting down and his mom’s hand on his shoulder as they smiled for the camera. The last two pictures were difficult to look at. That had been the year that everything had changed. First his mom, and then his dad.
“My sister’s doing. Our parents always had pictures on here and she keeps it stocked.”
He saw a wrinkle form between her eyebrows and his jaw tightened. He wasn’t all that fond of the gallery of reminders, but Cait had insisted. He’d never been able to deny her anything, and he knew to take the pictures down would mean hurting Cait, and Liz, too, and he couldn’t do it.
“Your dad looks very handsome. You look like him. In the jaw and the shape of your mouth.”
Luke swallowed. He could correct her, but he knew in reality the handsome bit no longer applied to his father. Time and illness had leached it from his body, bit by painful bit. Luke didn’t want to be like him. Not that way. Not ever. The fact that he might not have a choice was something he dealt with every single day.
“I have work to do, Ms. Northcott. Do you think we can continue the tour now?”
She turned away from the family gallery and smiled at him. He’d done his best not to encourage friendliness, so why on earth was she beaming at him? It was like a ray of sunshine warming the room when she smiled at him like that. “I’d love to,” she replied.
Luke didn’t answer, just turned away from the radio with a coldness that he could see succeeded in wiping the smile from her face. “Let’s get a move on, then,” he said over his shoulder. “So I can get back to work.”
Emily scowled at his departing back. She had her work cut out for her, then. To her mind, Luke Evans had lived alone too long. His interpersonal skills certainly needed some polishing. Granted, her life hadn’t been all sunshine and flowers lately, but she at least could be pleasant. She refused to let his sour attitude ruin her day.
“Do you mind if I turn the TV on for Sam? That way we can get through faster. I don’t want to hold you up.” After his comment about Sam being a distraction, Emily figured this was the easiest way. After Evans was gone to the barn, she’d enlist Sam’s help and they’d work together. Make it fun.
As they started up the stairs, Luke turned around and paused, his hand on the banister. “I apologize for the sorry state of the house,” he said. “My sister hasn’t been by in a few weeks and with haying time and the new calves.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“I don’t want to scare you off,” he said, starting up the stairs once more. Gruff or not, Emily got the feeling that he was relieved she was there. Or at least relieved someone was there to do the job he required.
She followed him up, unable to avoid the sight of his bottom in the faded jeans. Two identical wear spots lightened the pockets. As he took her through the house she realized he hadn’t been exaggerating. The spare rooms had a fine film of dust on the furniture. The rugs were in desperate need of a vacuuming and he’d left his shaving gear and towel on the bathroom vanity this morning, along with whiskers dotting the white porcelain of the sink. The linen closet was a jumbled mess of pillows, blankets and sheets arranged in no particular order, and the laundry basket was filled to overflowing.
The tour continued and Emily tried to be positive through it all. “The floors are gorgeous,” she tried, hoping to put them on more of an even footing. “They look like the original hardwood.”
“They are. And they have the scratches to prove it.”
She bit back a sigh and tried again. “Scratches just add character. And the doors are solid wood rather than those hollow imitations in stores these days. Such a great color of stain.”
“They need refinishing.”
Emily gave up for the time being; her attempts at anything positive were completely ineffectual. She simply followed him down the hall. The smallest bedroom was painted a pale green and had one wall on a slant with a charming oval window looking over the fields. She fell in love with it immediately. A second room was painted pink and one wall had rosebud wallpaper. A third door remained closed—she presumed it was his room. But when he opened the door to the final room she caught her breath. It must have been his parents’ room, all gleaming dark wood and an ivory chenille spread. It was like stepping back in time—hooked rugs on the floor and dainty Priscilla curtains at the windows.
“What a beautiful room.” She looked up at Luke and saw a muscle tick in his jaw. It was almost as if seeing it caused him pain, but why?
“It belonged to my parents,” he answered, and shut the door before she could say any more.
Back in the kitchen the clean dishes were piled in the drying rack, the teetering pile a masterpiece of domestic engineering. In the partner sink, dirty dishes formed a smaller, stickier pile. The kitchen cupboards were sturdy solid oak, and Emily knew a washing with oil soap would make them gleam again. The fridge needed a good wiping down. She paused a moment to glance at the magnetic notepad stuck to the fridge door. It was simply a list of phone numbers. She frowned as she read the names Cait and Liz, wondering why he didn’t simply have his sister’s numbers memorized. After his brusqueness, there was no way on earth she’d ask.
Overall, the house was a throwback to what felt like a happier, simpler time. “All it needs is some love and polish, Mr. Evans. You have a beautiful home.”
The tour finished, Luke cleared his throat, his feet shifting from side to side. “I really need to get back to fixing the baler. This weather isn’t going to hold and I have help coming tomorrow. The job is yours, Ms. Northcott.”
She grinned at him, ready to tackle the dust and cobwebs and bring the house back to its former glory “You’ve got a deal.”
“Shouldn’t we talk salary?”
A shadow dimmed her excitement, but only for a moment. “I thought that was all taken care of through the agency. Unless you’ve made a change regarding …” She paused, glancing down at Sam.
“One boy won’t eat much. The wage stands, if it’s acceptable to you.”
“Agreed.”
“You’ll be okay to get settled then?”
“Oh, we’ll be fine. Does it matter which rooms we take?”
“One of the two smaller ones at the end of the hall would probably be best for your son,” he replied. “My sister Liz’s pink room probably wouldn’t suit him. The other is still a bit girly, but at least it’s not pink. You can take the one on the other side.” The master bedroom, the one that had been his parents.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take the pink room? The other is …” she paused. She remembered the look on his face when he’d opened the door, but had no idea how to ask why it hurt him so much. “The other is so big,” she said.
Luke tried not to think of Emily in his parents’ room, covered with the ivory chenille spread that had been on the bed as long as he could remember. He had never been able to bring himself to change rooms, instead staying in the one he’d had since childhood. Nor did he want Sam there. But Emily … somehow she fit. She’d be caring and respectful.
“The room has been empty a long time. You may as well use it. The other is so small. It’s just a room, Emily. No reason why you shouldn’t sleep in it.”
But it wasn’t “just a room”, and as he looked down into her dark gaze, he got the idea she understood even without the details.
“Mr. Evans, I don’t know how to thank you. This means a lot to me … to us.”
Her eyes were so earnest, and he wondered what was behind them. Clearly she was a single mom and things had to be bad if she accepted a short-term position like his and was so obviously happy about it. She hadn’t even attempted to negotiate salary.
“What brought you here? I mean … you’re obviously a single mother.” No husband to be found and insistent on the Ms. instead of Mrs. No wedding ring either, but he saw the slight indentation on her finger where one had lived. “Recently divorced?”
The pleasant smile he’d enjoyed suddenly disappeared from her mouth. “Does it matter if I’m divorced?”
He stepped back. “Not at all. I was just curious.”
“You don’t strike me as the curious type.”
He hoped he didn’t blush. She had him dead to rights and she knew it. He had always been the stay-out-of-others'-business-and-they’ll-stay-out-of-yours type.
“Pardon me,” he replied coolly.
But her lack of answers only served to make him wonder more what had truly brought her here. What circumstances had led Emily Northcott and her son to his doorstep?
“Yes,” she relented, “I’m divorced. Sam’s father is living in British Columbia. I’m just trying to make a living and raise my son, Mr. Evans.”
She was a mom. She had baggage, if the white line around her finger and the set of her lips were any indication. It all screamed off limits to him. He should just nod and be on his way. Instead he found himself holding out his hand, scrubbed clean of the earlier grease, with only a telltale smidge remaining in his cuticles.
“Luke. Call me Luke.”
The air in the room seemed to hold for a fraction of a second as she slid her hand out of her pocket and towards his. Then he folded the slim fingers within his, the connection hitting him square in the gut. Two dots of color appeared on Emily’s cheeks, and it looked as though she bit the inside of her lip.
Not just him then. As if things weren’t complicated enough.
“Luke,” she echoed softly, and a warning curled through him at the sound of her voice. He had to keep his distance. This was probably a huge mistake. But where would they go if he denied her the job? What were they running from? He wanted to know everything but knew that asking would only mean getting closer. And getting close—to anyone—was not an option. Not for him.
He was already in over his head. The fields and barns were the place for him, and he would let Emily Northcott sort out her own family. She could just get on with doing her job.
He had enough to handle with his own.

CHAPTER THREE
THE REST OF the day passed in a blur. Emily began her cleaning upstairs in the rooms that she and Sam would occupy. Sam helped as best as a five-year-old boy could, helping change the sheets, dusting and Emily put him to work putting his clothes in the empty dresser while she moved on to her room. It was late afternoon when she was done and continued on to the kitchen, putting the dry dishes away before tackling the new dirty ones and searching the freezer for something to make for supper. The baked pork chops, rice and vegetables were ready for six o’clock; she held the meal until six-thirty and finally ate with Sam while Luke remained conspicuously absent. It wasn’t until she and Sam were picking at the blueberry cobbler she’d baked for dessert that Luke returned.
He took one look at the dirty supper dishes and his face hardened.
Emily clenched her teeth. What did he expect? They couldn’t wait all night, and she’d held it as long as was prudent. As it was, the vegetables had been a little mushy and the cream of mushroom sauce on the chops had baked down too far.
“We didn’t know how long you’d be,” she said quietly, getting up to move the dirty dishes and to fix Luke a plate. “We decided to go ahead.”
“You didn’t need to wait for me at all.” He went to the sink to wash his hands.
Emily bit the inside of her lip. Granted, dinnertime with the surly Luke Evans wasn’t all that appealing, but it seemed rude to discount having a civil meal together at all. Still she was new here and the last thing she wanted was to get off on the wrong foot. She picked up a clean plate, filled it with food and popped it into the microwave. In her peripheral vision she could see Sam picking at his cobbler, staring into his bowl. He could sense the tension, and it made Emily even more annoyed. He’d had enough of that when things had got bad between her and Rob. The last thing she wanted was to have him in a less-than-friendly situation again.
“Eating together is a civil thing to do,” she replied as the microwave beeped. “Plus the food is best when it’s fresh and hot.”
“You don’t need to go to any bother,” he replied, taking the plate and sitting down at the table. Sam’s gaze darted up and then down again. Was he not even going to acknowledge her son?
Perhaps what Luke Evans needed was a refresher course in manners and common courtesy.
She resumed her seat, picked up her fork and calmly said, “I wasn’t planning on running a short-order kitchen.”
“I didn’t realize I was nailed down to a specific dinner time. I am running a farm here, you know.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and he held his spoon with a purple puddle of blueberries halfway between the bowl and his mouth. Emily spared him a glance and let out a slow breath.
“Of course you are, and I did hold the meal for over half an hour. Maybe we should have simply communicated it better. Set a basic time and if you’re going to be later, you can let me know.”
“I’m not used to a schedule.”
Emily looked at Sam and smiled. “You’re excused, Sam. Why don’t you go upstairs and put on your pajamas?”
Obediently Sam pushed out his chair and headed for the stairs.
Luke paused in his eating. “He listens to you well.”
Now that Sam was gone Emily wasn’t feeling so generous. “He has been taught some manners,” she replied, the earlier softness gone from her voice. “Eating together is the civilized thing to do. Respecting that I may have gone to the trouble to cook a nice meal would go a long way. And acknowledging my son when you sit at the table would be polite, rather than acting as though he doesn’t exist.”
Luke’s fork hit his plate. “I hired you to be a housekeeper, not Miss Manners.”
“I’m big on courtesy and respect, Mr. Evans. No matter who or what the age. If you don’t want to eat with us, say so now. I’ll plan for Sam and I to eat by ourselves and you can reheat your meal whenever it suits you. But I’d prefer if we settled it now so we don’t have any more confusion.”
For several seconds the dining room was quiet, and then Luke replied, “As long as you understand there may be times when I’m in the middle of something, I will make every attempt to observe a regular dinner hour.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And I didn’t mean to ignore your son.”
“He has feelings, too, Mr. Evans. And since his father left, it is easy for him to feel slighted.”
Luke picked at the mound of rice on his plate. “I didn’t think of that.”
“You don’t know us yet,” Emily responded, feeling her annoyance drain away. Luke looked suitably chastised, and she couldn’t help the smile that she tried to hide. She’d seen that look on Sam’s face on occasion, and it melted her anger.
“Look, I put in an effort for our first dinner here. I might have gotten a bit annoyed that you weren’t here to eat it.”
Luke lifted his head and met her eyes. Her heart did a weird thump, twisting and then settling down to a slightly faster rhythm, it seemed.
“I have lived alone a long time,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. You might need to be patient with me.”
“Maybe we all need to be patient,” she replied, and he smiled at her. A genuine smile, not the tense tight one from this afternoon. The twist in her heart went for another leap again and she swallowed.
“There’s cobbler,” she said, a peace offering.
“Thank you, Emily,” he answered.
She went to the kitchen to get it, hearing the way he said her name echoing around in her brain. She’d fought her battle and won. So why did she feel as if she was in a lot of trouble?
After the supper mess was cleaned up, Luke went out to the barns and Emily put Sam to bed, following him in short order. She was exhausted. She vaguely heard the phone ringing once, but Luke answered it and the sound of the peepers and the breeze through the window lulled her back to sleep.
But the early night meant early to rise, and Emily heard Luke get up as the first pale streaks of sunlight filtered through the curtains. The floorboards creaked by the stairs and she checked her watch … did people really get up this early? She crept out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, looking in on Sam.
He looked so much younger—more innocent, if that were possible—in slumber. He wasn’t a baby any longer, but it didn’t change the tender feeling that rushed through her looking at his dark eyelashes and curls. He was so good, so loving. So trusting. She didn’t want what had happened with his father to change that about him. It was up to her to make sure he had a good life. A happy life. She was determined. He would never doubt how much she loved him. He would always know that she would be there for him.
Back in her room, she slid into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, moving as quietly as possible. She wanted to get an early start. Make a decent breakfast and get a load of laundry going so she could hang it out on the clothesline. The very idea was exciting, and she laughed a little at herself. Who knew something as simple as fresh-smelling clothes off the line would give her such pleasure? Despite Luke’s reticence, despite getting off on the wrong foot last night at dinner, she was more convinced than ever that she’d done the right thing. She’d taken him on and he hadn’t given her the boot. She’d be the best housekeeper Luke Evans ever had. And when she got her feet beneath her, it would be time to start thinking about the future.
She was beating pancake batter in a bowl when Luke returned from the barn, leaving his boots on the mat and coming into the kitchen in his stocking feet. Emily had found a cast-iron pan and it was already heating on the burner. He stopped and stared at her for a moment, long enough that she began to feel uncomfortable and her spoon moved even faster through the milky batter.
“I didn’t think you’d be up yet.”
“I heard you leave a while ago. I wanted to get an early start.” She dropped a little butter in the pan and ladled a perfectly round pancake in the middle of it. “You’re just in time for the first pancakes.” She was glad he was here. Now he’d get them fresh and hot from the pan, better proof of her cooking abilities than the reheated dinner of last evening. She wasn’t opposed to hard work, and it felt good having a purpose, something to do. It was just a taste of how it would feel when she got a permanent job and could provide for herself and for Sam.
“Lately I’ve been grabbing a bowl of cereal. Pancakes are a treat. Thank you, Emily.”
His polite words nearly made her blush as she remembered how she’d taken him to task for his manners at their last meal. She focused on turning the pancake, the top perfectly golden brown. “I’m glad you get to enjoy them fresh, rather than warmed up, like last night’s supper.” She flipped the pancake onto a plate and began frying another. “Besides, when you sleep in you miss the best part of the day, I think.”
She wanted to ask him if this was his regular breakfast time but held back, not wanting to harp on a dead topic. Still, she felt as if she should already know, which was ridiculous. How could she possibly know his routine, his preferences?
Everything about Luke Evans was throwing her off balance and she was having to think and double-think every time she wanted to ask him something, measure her words, trying hard to say the right thing and not the first thing that came to her mind.
“What time do you want lunch?”
“I’m used to just grabbing a sandwich when I come in.”
She put down the spatula. “A sandwich? But a working man can’t live on a sandwich for lunch!”
He laughed then, a real laugh aimed at her open-mouthed look of dismay, she realized. She picked up the spatula again, trying to ignore the light that kindled in his eyes as he laughed. When Luke was grumpy, she wished he were nicer. But when he was nice, something inside her responded and she wished for his sterner side again. She didn’t want to have those sorts of reactions. She wasn’t interested in romance or flirting. She didn’t know how, not after so many years with one man. She was never going to put herself in a position to be hurt like that again either. She deserved more. So did Sam.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“You sound like my sisters. They both fuss and flutter. I haven’t starved yet, though.”
The awkwardness had seemed to fade away between them, but what arose in its place was a different kind of tension. It made her want to hold her breath or glance over and see if he was watching her. She couldn’t help it—she did, and he was. His blue gaze was penetrating, and she had the simultaneous thoughts that his eyes were too beautiful for a man and that she wished he still wore his hat so they would be at least a bit shadowed.
She handed him the plate of pancakes, taking care to make sure their fingers never touched. “Fresh from the pan.”
“They smell delicious. And about lunch. I try to come in around noon, when the boys take their break. Sometimes when I’m haying I take my lunch with me though. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Emily bit her lip and turned back to her pancakes, feeling a warmth spread through her. His tone at the end had held a little hint of teasing, no malice in it at all. She could nearly hear the echo of Rob’s angry voice in her head, telling her to stop nagging. She had told herself his leaving had been out of the blue, but things hadn’t been right for a while before he left. He had complained about her always trying to tie him down to a schedule. She hadn’t. But she’d taken pride in her “job”. She loved it when they all sat down together. It had been a bone of contention between them that they didn’t eat dinner as a family. Since he’d left she’d made it a point to sit with Sam over dinner and talk about their favorite parts of the day.
But Luke wasn’t her family, he was her boss. “It’s your house,” she said quietly. “I overstepped last night. Whenever you want your meals, I’ll make sure they’re on the table. That is what you pay me for, right?”
“Are you okay? “
“Fine. Why?”
“You got all … meek all of a sudden. If you want something, Emily, just ask. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.”
She swallowed. Had she become so used to tiptoeing around Rob that she’d forgotten how good honesty and straight-talking felt? She took a breath. “Okay. It would be helpful if I knew what time you’d like your meals so I can plan around them.”
His chair scraped against the floor as he rose, came forward and reached around her for the maple syrup. His body was close—too close. When she sucked in a breath, she smelled the clean scent of his soap mixed with a hint of leather and horses. Oh, my. Heat crept into her cheeks.
“Was that so hard?” he asked.
Her brain scrambled to remember what they’d been talking about. Oh, yes. The timing of meals. “Um ….no?”
He retrieved the syrup and moved away while Emily wilted against the counter.
“I’ll try to let you know when I plan to be in,” he said, pouring syrup over his pancakes. “You were right, so don’t apologize. It’s just business courtesy, that’s all.” Luke dismissed it with a wave and picked up his fork.
Just business. He was right, and Emily felt chagrined at her earlier behavior. She was far too aware of him and he was her boss. Why shouldn’t she simply ask questions? She would of any other employer.
“I have to run into town this morning to pick up a part for the baler. I’ll make a stop at the hospital, too, I guess. Cait and Joe had a baby girl last night. Anyway, if there’s anything you need, I can get it while I’m there.”
A baby! He said it as blandly as he might have said Rain is forecast for today, and it left Emily confused. What was she missing? She remembered the first moments of holding Sam in her arms after his birth, and despite Luke’s tepid response she knew his sister and brother-in-law had to be over the moon. As brother and uncle, he should be, too. “A girl! Lovely! They must be so happy.”
Luke went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, then took down another and held it out, asking her if she wanted some. She nodded, wondering why he wasn’t excited about the baby. After his reaction to Sam yesterday, she was beginning to think her assessment that he didn’t like children was dead-on. “Is everyone healthy?” she asked, hoping there were no complications.
“Oh, yes.” He gave a shrug. “Another girl. That’s four nieces.”
“Do you have something against girls?”
The cup halted halfway to his mouth. “What? Oh, of course not. We just keep hoping for a boy. To keep the Evans and Son going, you know?”
Emily watched him as he got out juice glasses—three of them—pouring orange juice in two and leaving the third one empty but waiting. He had remembered Sam, then. At times last night and this morning it had seemed as though Luke forgot Sam was even there.
“This is the twenty-first century, Luke.” She smiled at him, poured another pancake. “A girl could take over the farm as well as a boy, you know. Evans and Niece might not have the same ring to it, but I didn’t have you pegged for one worrying about an heir to the empire. Besides, you might still have some big, strapping prairie boys of your own.” She added the pancake to the stack on the warmer with a smile. But her teasing had backfired. He stared at her now with an expression that seemed partly hurt and partly angry.
“I don’t plan on having a family,” he replied, then dropped his gaze, focusing on cutting his pancakes, his knife scraping along the porcelain. Emily stared at him for a second, absolutely nonplussed, and then remembered she still had a pancake cooking and it needed to be turned if she didn’t want it to burn.
He finished the meal in silence as she cooked more pancakes, stacking them until the warmer was full. The quiet stretched out uncomfortably; Emily wanted to break it somehow but after his last words she had no idea what to say that would be a good start to a conversation. He’d clearly ended the last attempt.
He finished what was on his plate and came over to the stove, standing at her elbow. She wished she could ignore him and relax, but he was six foot something of muscled man. She couldn’t pretend he didn’t exist. Not when all of her senses were clamoring like the bells of a five-alarm fire. She gripped the spatula tightly.
“Are there any more of those, Emily?”
She let her breath out slowly, not wanting him to sense her relief. Extra pancakes—was that all he wanted? “Take as many as you like,” she replied. “I can make more for Sam when he gets up.”
He lifted four from the warming tray and Emily swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat. My, he did have a good appetite. Was there nothing about the man that wasn’t big and virile? On the back of the thought came the unwanted but automatic comparison to Rob. Rob in his suits and Italian loafers and his fancy car. Rob going out the door with a travel mug and a briefcase in the morning. When those things had disappeared so abruptly from her life it had broken her heart. She’d built her whole life around their little family, loving every moment of caring for their house and watching Sam grow. She’d lost the life she’d always dreamed of and it still hurt.
But it was time to start dreaming about something new. Emily lifted her head and caught a glimpse of the wide fields out the kitchen window. The golden fields were Luke’s office. His jeans and boots and, oh, yes, the T-shirts that displayed his muscled arms were his work clothes. The prairie wind was his air conditioning and the sun his office lighting.
She smiled, knowing that the wide-open space was something she’d been missing for a long time. The memories would always be there, but they hurt less now. As she looked out over the sunny fields, she knew that leaving the city had been the right thing to do. She was moving forward with her life, and it felt good.
“What are you smiling at?” Luke asked the question from the table, but he’d put down his fork and was giving her his full attention. And the pancake batter was gone, leaving her with nothing to do to keep her hands busy. Six pancakes remained; certainly enough for her breakfast with Sam. She put down the bowl and brushed her hands on the apron she’d found in the drawer.
“I was just thinking how nice it must be to go to work in the outdoors,” she replied, picking up her cooling coffee. Anything to let her hide just a little bit from Luke’s penetrating gaze.
“Not so nice on rainy days, but yeah … I think I’d go crazy locked up inside all day. You strike me as the inside kind.”
“What makes you say that?”
He looked down at his tanned arms and then at her pale, white limbs. Then up at her face while a small smile played with his lips.
“Okay, you’re right. Sam and I made it to the park but our backyard …” She sighed. “It was very small. Sam had a little slide there, a kid-sized picnic table. That was about it.”
“Boys need room to run around.”
She poured herself more coffee. “Yes, I know. Suburbia wasn’t always part of the plan. I did grow up with more than a postage stamp for a yard, you know. In Regina.”
“You’re from Regina?”
“Just outside, yes. My mom was a stay-at-home mom and my dad sold cars.” Telling Luke took her back to her college days when she’d been slightly ashamed of her modest home and she realized now that Rob had never quite fit in there. Perhaps this split had always been coming, and was not as random as she thought. She’d been trying to be someone she wasn’t. Maybe he had, too. Now, despite the fact that she knew there would be a certain bit of “I told you so”, home didn’t seem so bad. She’d been afraid of being judged, but she knew that wasn’t really why she didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to go back a failure. She wanted to go back when she could look her parents in the eye and say that she’d fixed it. The way they’d always seemed to fix things. If money was tight or jobs were lost, they still always seemed to manage. And they’d stayed together. Not because they had to, but because they loved each other. Emily found it so hard to live up to that kind of example.
However, she could say none of this to Luke. What would he think of her if he knew? The last thing she wanted was to lay out a list of her faults and failings.
“And what took you to Calgary?”
She simply lifted an eyebrow.
“Ah,” he chuckled, understanding. “Sam’s father?”
She nodded, finally taking a seat at the table and curling her hands around the mug. The sun was up over the knoll now and gleaming brightly in the kitchen. This was where the questions would end. She had no desire to tell Luke the sordid details of the split. There would be no more breakfasts for two. She was here to work. It was glorious just to be able to make her own decisions now. She just kept telling herself that. Her parents didn’t know she’d had to give up her house or that she hadn’t received any child support. She’d been too proud to tell them. She’d been certain she’d turn things around before they got to this point. And she would. She just needed a little more time and a solid plan.
“And you?” To keep him from prying further into her personal life, she turned the tables. “You’ve been here your whole life, I suppose.”
“Of course.”
“The girls didn’t care to be farmers?”
He looked at her over the rim of his mug, his blue gaze measuring. Luke Evans was no pushover, Emily realized. He saw right through her intentions. It should have put her off, but it didn’t. Everything about Luke was intelligent, decisive. It was crazily sexy.
“The ‘girls', as you say, got married and started their own families. Joe manages a farm-equipment dealership—he’s the proud daddy this morning. Liz’s husband is a schoolteacher. They both know their way around a barn, but that’s not their life now.”
“So you handle this alone?” She put the mug down on the table.
“I have some hired help.” His lips made a thin line and his gaze slid from hers. Subject closed.
But she pressed on. “Then what about the Evans and Son on the sign? What about your dad and mom? How long have they been gone?”
He pushed out his chair and put his mug on top of his plate, taking the stack to the cupboard next to the sink. “I’ve got to get going. I have to get the boys started on their own this morning so I can run into town.”
Emily knew she had gone too far. Something about his parents pushed a button. She had sensed it when she’d seen their picture, when he’d looked into their empty bedroom and again just now when she’d asked about them.
“About town … you really are short of groceries. Could we go with you? We won’t take extra time. We can shop while you run your errands.”
He reached for his hat and plunked it on his head. To Emily, it seemed like armor to hide behind. And it added inches to his height.
Maybe some people didn’t appreciate a closet full of fresh-smelling clothes, shining floors and a good meal, but she’d bet Luke would. She’d bet anything that he’d grown up exactly that way. His sisters had moved on, apparently to fulfilling, happy lives. Why hadn’t Luke? Not that the farm wasn’t successful. But it felt like a piece of the puzzle was missing.
“I can’t expect you to cook without food, I suppose,” he replied. “Be ready about nine, then. I need to get back as soon as I can.”
“Yes, boss,” she replied, putting his dishes in the sink to wash up.
It was all back to the status quo until he reached the screen door and then she heard his voice call quietly.
“Emily?”
She went to the doorway. “Yes?”
He smiled. “Good pancakes.”
The screen door shut behind him, but Emily stared at it a good ten seconds before making her feet move.
Yes, indeed. She could wow Luke Evans in the kitchen. And she knew exactly what would be on the menu tonight.

CHAPTER FOUR
LUKE GAVE THE ratchet another turn and adjusted the trouble light. When had it gotten so dark? He stood back, staring at the rusted parts that made up the baler. It needed love. It needed replacing. But this repair would hold him through this season. And if things went well, he’d talk Joe into a discount and buy a new one next year.
He made a few final adjustments and straightened, rubbing the small of his back. Between the trip to town, Cait and the baler, he’d spent all of half an hour in the fields today. He frowned. It wasn’t how he liked to run things. He wasn’t a boss who gave orders and disappeared. Here everyone worked together and shared the load. But what could he do? He’d left the repairs until after dinner as it was, working in the dim light.
“Hi.”
He spun at the sound of the small voice and saw Sam standing before him in his bare feet and a pair of cotton pajamas. The boy was cute as a bug’s ear, Luke acknowledged, with his brown curls and wide chocolate eyes like his mother’s. Eyes that seemed to see everything. Luke wiped his hands on a rag and tucked the end into his back pocket. “Shouldn’t you be up at the house? In bed?”
A light blush darkened Sam’s cheeks as his gaze skittered away for a moment. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s too hot.”
“Your mom would open the window.”
“She said she didn’t want to hear a peep out of me,” Sam admitted, and Luke hid a smile. Not hear a peep, so sneaking out of the house was okay?
“Then you’d better hightail it back in there, don’t you think? You don’t want your mom to be mad.”
Sam swallowed and nodded and turned away, only to turn back again. “Why don’t you like my mama?”
Luke’s hands dropped to his sides as Sam asked the pointblank question. “What makes you think I don’t like her?” he asked.
“Because you never said anything to her at supper. And she made veal. I helped. She only does that when it’s special.”
The veal had been good, as had the pasta and salad. Certainly much fancier than he was used to making for himself. “I suppose I had my head full of everything I need to do. I don’t usually have company at the dinner table. I guess I’m not one for conversation.”
Why on earth was he explaining this to a five-year-old boy? Besides, he knew it was a feeble excuse. He hadn’t known what to say to her. He’d walked in to a house smelling of furniture polish and the fragrant lilacs she’d cut and put in one of his mother’s vases she’d unearthed from somewhere. He’d instantly been transported to a time when the house had been filled with family. His mother’s warm smiles. His dad’s teasing. All of it had been taken from him in what felt like an instant, and he knew the chances of history repeating itself were too good to fool around with. But today he’d been taken back to a happier time.
He’d looked at Emily and felt the noose tightening. All through the meal he thought of her as she’d looked that morning as they ate alone in the quiet kitchen, with her pretty smiles and soft voice. It had felt domestic. Alarm bells had gone off like crazy in his head. He knew the signs. Watchfulness. Blushes. He was as guilty of it as she was, and he had kept his distance ever since very deliberately. He’d had no idea what to say to her.
“I think you hurt her feelings,” Sam persisted. His tone turned defensive and his brown eyes snapped. “My mama’s a nice lady,” he announced, lifting his chin as if daring Luke to dispute it, an action so like his mother Luke found it hard not to smile. “She cooks good and reads me stories and does all the best voices with my dinosaur puppets.”
This was Luke’s problem. He was too soft. He already felt sorry for the pair of them, and he didn’t even really know the extent of their situation. Nor did he want to. He knew he shouldn’t get involved. They were not his responsibility, and he didn’t want them to be. He’d had enough responsibility to last a lifetime, and even though his sisters were on their own there was still the issue of his father’s ongoing care. Emily was the housekeeper. Full stop.
Even Cait, in the first bloom of motherhood, had sensed something was up today. He’d said nothing, not wanting to mention Emily or her kid, instead dutifully admiring baby Janna. His sister was happy, but a family was not for him. So why did seeing her with Joe and her baby make him feel so empty? It was like that every time he saw Liz’s girls, too. They thought he didn’t particularly care for children. But the sorry truth was he knew he would never have any of his own and keeping his distance was just easier.
“I like your mom just fine, and you’re right, supper was good. But my job is to fix this baler so we can roll up the hay out there and have feed for the winter.”
Sam scowled. “Mama told me if we didn’t stay here we had to go to Grandma and Grampa’s. I don’t even know what they look like.”
Luke leaned against the bumper, watching Sam with keen eyes. When had she said such a thing? Before arriving or after he’d given her the job? He found the answer mattered to him. And how could Sam not know his grandparents? Regina wasn’t so far from Calgary as to prevent visits.
“Oh, you must remember them.”
But Sam shook his head. “My mama says they would be excited to see me because they haven’t since I was a baby.”
Three years. Maybe four, if what he said was true. Luke frowned. Even though he’d only known her a few days, he pictured Emily as the type to be surrounded by family. What had kept them apart?
“You should go on up to the house,” he said, more firmly this time. “You don’t want to get in trouble with your mom, Sam. Go on now.”
Sam’s lips twisted a little. “You don’t like me either,” he announced.
“What does it matter if I like you or not?” Luke was feeling annoyed now, having his character called out by a boy. Besides, it wasn’t a matter of liking or not. It went so much deeper. Self-preservation, if it came to that. There was too much at stake for him to get all gushy over babies and such. “You get on up to bed.”
Sam’s little lip quivered but his eyes blazed. “That’s all right. My dad doesn’t like me either and my mama and I do just fine.”
He spun on his toes and ran back to the house.
Luke sighed, watching him depart. He’d been sharp when he hadn’t meant to be. It wasn’t Sam’s fault—or Emily’s for that matter—that the years of stress and responsibility had worn him down. The boy had been through enough with his parents splitting up—Emily had as much as said so last night. He felt a moment of guilt, knowing Sam was feeling the loss of his father keenly. Did Sam never see him, then?
He rubbed a hand over his face, blew out a breath. Emily’s domestic situation was none of his concern. Why he continually had to remind himself of that was a bit of a mystery. He turned out the trouble light and felt for a moment the satisfaction of another day done.
Followed by the heavy realization of all that remained to do tomorrow. And the day after that.
He squared his shoulders. “Suck it up, Evans,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. Darn the two of them anyway. They’d had him thinking more over the last two days than he had in months, and not just about himself. About her, and the series of events that had landed her on his doorstep just at the moment he needed her most.
Emily was wiping up the last of the dishes and Sam was already sound asleep in bed when Luke returned to the house in the twilight. Sam had worked alongside her most of the afternoon, helping her dust the rooms and fetching things as she needed them. The bathroom fixtures shone and the floors gleamed again, and she sighed, not only from exhaustion but also from satisfaction. Sam had sometimes been more of a hindrance than a help, but it had been worth it to see the smile on his face and the pride he took in helping. It hadn’t been until he’d nearly nodded off over his dinner that she’d realized he’d missed his afternoon nap.
Now he was tucked away in the small room, his dark head peaceful on the pillow. Meanwhile Emily had dishes to finish and the last of the dry sheets to put back on the spare beds before she could call it a night.
She heard Luke come in through the screen door and her heart did a little leap. It seemed so personal, having the run of his house, making herself at home. She heard the thump of his boots as he put them on the mat by the door and pictured him behind her. Now her pulse picked up as she heard his stockinged feet come closer. To her surprise he picked up the frying pan and moved to put it in the cupboard.
“Mr. Evans … you don’t have to do that.” She avoided his eyes as she picked up the last plate to dry.
“It’s no biggie. I’m done for the day and you’re not.”
His shoulder was next to hers as he reached for another pot, the close contact setting off the same sparks as she’d felt at dinner. His jeans had been dirty with a smear of grease on one thigh, and his T-shirt had borne marks of his afternoon of work, but he’d gone into the downstairs bath and come to the table with clean hands and face and a few droplets of water clinging to his short hair.
It had been the wet hair that had done it. The tips were dark and glistening, and paired with the stubble on his chin it was unbelievably attractive. The economical way that he moved and how he said exactly what he meant, without any wasted words. He’d spoken to Sam only briefly during dinner, making little conversation before heading outside again. He hadn’t even commented on the food, even though she’d pulled out all the stops and fussed with her favorite veal-and-pasta recipe. Emily tried not to be offended. Perhaps it was just his way. Perhaps he’d lived alone so long he wasn’t used to making mealtime conversation. And that was quite sad when she thought about it.
“But our agreement …”
He put his hand on her arm and she stilled, plate in hand. She couldn’t look at him. If she did, the color would seep into her cheeks. He was touching her. Touching her, and her skin seemed to shiver with pleasure beneath his fingers.
“Please,” she said quietly. “This is my job. Let me do it.”
“Pride, Emily?”
He used her first name and the sound of it, coming from his lips in the privacy of the kitchen, caused her cheeks to heat anyway. His hand slid off her arm and she realized she was holding the plate and doing nothing with it. She made a show of wiping the cloth over its surface. “Just stating the obvious.”
“Who do you suppose cleans up when I’m here alone? I didn’t realize putting a few things away would be a problem.”
Oh, lordy. What right did she have to be territorial? “That’s not what I meant,” she replied hastily, putting the plate on the counter and reaching into the sink to pick up the last handful of cutlery. “Of course it’s your kitchen …”
“Emily.”
“You have more right to it than I do.”
She was babbling now, growing more nervous by the second as she felt his steady gaze on her. She bit down on her lip. She wouldn’t say any more and make a bigger fool of herself. What did it matter if he put a dish away? She was the one caught up in a knot, determined to do everything perfectly. And why? She already knew that trying to be perfect didn’t mean squat when it came down to it. She let out a slow breath, trying to relax.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
She did then. She looked up into his eyes and saw that the blue irises were worried, making it impossible to maintain the distance she desired.
“You’re paying me to do a job, so I should be the one to do it. If that’s pride, then so be it.”
“You’re a stubborn woman, aren’t you?”
Her lips dropped open and then she clamped them shut again, trying to think of a good reply. “I prefer determined.”
“I just bet you do.”
“Did you get the baler fixed?” She was desperate to change the subject, to turn the focus off herself and her failings. “I expect you’ll be glad to be back in the fields tomorrow,” she carried on, sorting the last of the cutlery into the drawer. The thought of the fields and waving alfalfa made her smile, gave her a sense of well-being. It had to be the peace and quiet, that was all. It had nothing to do with Luke Evans, or picturing him on top of a gigantic tractor in a dusty hat and even dustier boots.
“I can’t expect the boys to handle things alone. I’ll be glad to be back out with them again. I may be late for dinner tomorrow. Just so you know.”
Oh, goodness, they were back to that again. She brushed her hands on her pants and inhaled, trying to appear poised. How could she explain that she’d actually enjoyed cleaning the homey farmhouse? That she’d felt more at home cooking a simple meal than she’d felt in a long time? Cooking anything elaborate for her and Sam seemed pointless, and she’d missed it.
“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll plan something that keeps well, then. If you don’t mind Sam and I going ahead.”
“Of course not. Emily …” he paused and she gave in to temptation and looked up at him. He could look so serious, but something about his somber expression spoke to her. There was more to Luke than was on the surface. She was sure of it.
Their gazes clung for several seconds before he cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is, it is just great to have supper on the table when I come in and something better than a sandwich. It’s a real nice thing to look forward to.”
It was as heartfelt a comment as she’d guess Luke could come up with, and she took it to heart. She couldn’t find the words to tell him that though, so she simply said, “Sam doesn’t have such discerning taste. It was nice to have a reason to put together a real meal.”
His gaze plumbed hers. “There was a reason I advertised for a housekeeper. The place looks great. And dinner was really good, Emily. I probably should have said so before.”
She’d been slightly put out that he’d barely acknowledged her efforts earlier, but the compliment still did its work, even though it was delayed. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Why was he being nice to her now? She should be glad, relieved about all of it. But it threw her off balance. She furrowed her brow. Either she wanted his compliments and approval or she didn’t. She wished she could make up her mind which.
“You’re a very good cook.”
“It was.”
She paused. So what if it was what she’d used to make for special occasions? She was tired of giving Rob any power. He had no business here. He had no business in her life anymore. He’d forfeited that privilege, and she’d done her share of crying about it. The only person keeping him front and center was her. “It is one of my favorites.”
“So what’s the story of Emily Northcott?” Luke folded up the dish towel and hung it over the door of the stove. “I mean, you must have a place in Calgary. Sam’s father must be helping. Why pick a position that takes you away from home?”
Of course he’d ask right at the moment she’d decided not to mention Rob again. But the question struck a nerve. Somehow she wanted him to know. She wanted him to realize that she had tried everything she could to make things right. She already thought of him as stubborn rancher, a bit of a strong, silent type but she’d glimpsed moments of compassion, too. How would he remember her after she moved on? Not as a victim. Never that. She wanted him to see what she wanted to see in herself. Strength. Resourcefulness. Pride, but not vanity.
“I was a stay-at-home mom. Once I got pregnant and my ex started working, we agreed on a plan. I had my degree in science, and I put Rob through school by working for a laboratory. The idea was for him to start work and then he’d support me as I took my pharmacy degree. But then we had Sam, and Rob said he would support us both. I was thrilled. Having Sam changed everything. Being his mom was the best job I’d ever had. I know it’s not a job in the strict sense, but I really felt like I was doing something important, making a home for us, bringing him up. And I was thankful to have that choice. I know not everyone does.”
Remembering those days stung. Rob had pretended the arrangement was perfect, but in the end it wasn’t what he’d wanted. Emily had been too blind to see it until it was too late. “And then he left.”
She cast a furtive look at the stairway, knowing Sam was asleep but still worried that if he woke up he’d hear her talking.
Luke followed her gaze. “You don’t want him to hear us talking about it?”
Emily nodded, relieved he’d taken the hint so quickly. “He’s been through enough. He’s asleep, but any mention of his dad and he gets so upset.”
“He thinks his dad doesn’t like him.”
Her head snapped around. “What?”
“He told me. He said I don’t like him and his dad doesn’t like him and that he does just fine.” He pinned her with a steady look. “He’s quite a kid, actually. But it made me wonder. Are you fine, Emily?”
She ignored the question, instead focusing on thoughts of Sam. Did he really believe that? That his father didn’t like him? Sadness warred with anger at the situation. She hated that he didn’t feel loved by both parents.
“I’m sorry he said that to you,” she whispered, faltering for a moment, letting the despair in for just a second. Then she closed it away. There was nothing productive in feeling sorry for herself. “I’ll have him apologize, Luke.”
His gaze darkened and his jaw tightened. “No need. He was just being honest. He’s a good kid. You’ve done a good job with him. It’s not easy being a single parent.”
The compliment went to her heart. “Thank you. But I worry about what he’s missing. If I’m enough, you know?”
“You just do the best you can.”
She leaned back against the counter, looked up at Luke, wondering at the tight tone of his voice. What did he know of it? And yet she got the feeling he somehow understood. “I can’t even put food on the table at the moment,” she admitted.
His face flattened with alarm. “It’s that bad?”
“Let’s go outside,” she suggested. Luke was standing too close again and she needed the fresh air and open space.
They left the porch light off to keep the Junebugs away, and Emily sat on the step, letting the first stars provide the light while they waited for last dregs of twilight to fade and the moon to rise. She had been at the ranch for two days, and the whole time Luke had felt like a boss, or like a complete stranger. But not tonight. Tonight he felt like an ally, despite the fact that they barely knew one another. It had been a long time since she’d had an ally. Since she’d had an unbiased ear to talk to.
Emily breathed in the fresh prairie air and the heavy scent of lilacs. “I love these,” she said quietly. “Nothing smells better than lilacs.”
Luke sat down beside her and the air warmed.
“My mother planted them,” he said, putting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands. “I’m not much for flower gardens, I don’t have time. But I’ve always tried to keep her lilacs. They smelled nice on the table tonight. Mom used to do that, too.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died when I was nineteen. Brain aneurism.”
Emily heard the grief in his voice even though it had to be ten years or more since her death. “I’m sorry, Luke.”
He coughed. “It’s all right. Right now we’re talking about you. And why your ex was crazy enough to leave you and Sam and not even provide for both of you.”
His words reached inside and illuminated a place that had been dark for a very long time.
“When he left, I had to start looking for work. No one wanted someone who hadn’t been in the workplace for five years. Technology has changed. I had no references—the staff where I’d worked was all new. Rob hasn’t paid a dime in child support.” She twisted her fingers together as she looked over at Luke. “Not one.”
“Surely a judge …”
Emily laughed bitterly. “Oh, yes. But it was an Alberta court and Rob moved to British Columbia. And I don’t have the funds to fight him on it.”
“I’m sorry. Of course you’ve had a difficult time of it.”
She hadn’t anticipated a helping hand and a caring tone. Not from a stranger. In a few stolen moments, Luke Evans had shown her more consideration than she’d had from any other quarter in several months. Then she reminded herself that she had promised to rely only on herself and she straightened her shoulders.
“It could have been worse,” she admitted. “He didn’t hurt us. Not physically. He just left. Said our life wasn’t what he wanted and he was starting over.”
“It doesn’t always take punches to leave scars.”
And, oh, she knew he was right. “Rob did lots of damage. They’re just the kinds of scars that you can’t see. I think they take longer to heal, too. The money is a practical difficulty, but the real kicker is how he has washed his hands of Sam. Sam is his son. I don’t understand how a dad does that, Luke. I don’t understand how I could have been so wrong. His abandonment made me question every single thing I thought I’d known about myself.”
Luke was silent for a few moments. Then he said quietly, “You can’t blame yourself for everything.”
Emily wanted him to see she wasn’t the kind of woman who let life happen to her. She was resourceful. But the kind way he was treating her was throwing her off balance. She’d wanted to create distance between them and instead she felt that he understood, perhaps even better than her friends in Calgary had. How was that possible?
The Junebugs thumped against the screen door, trying to get inside to the light that shone from the kitchen. Luke got up and brushed a hand down his jeans. “Let’s walk,” he suggested.
They strolled down the lane towards the road, past the mowed grass and to a cedar fence that was ornamental rather than functional. At the bottom Luke turned to her and she swallowed, feeling out of her league being alone with him like this. Unlike the fence, his appearance was for function rather than flash and just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, from the shorn hair to the faded jeans and dark T-shirt. The shirt clung in such a way that she could see the shape of his muscles, made strong by years of farm work. The sight of him with the moon behind him was something she knew she’d carry with her for a long time, burned on her mind as surely as the straightforward E of the Evans brand.
He was so completely opposite to the men she knew. It made her nervous and, at the same time, exhilarated. She told herself that after a year of being alone it was just a reaction. One that would go away as soon as she left the ranch.
“You didn’t see it coming, did you?” Luke picked up the last thread of their conversation.
It hurt to talk about Rob. Not because she still loved him, but because she’d been so blind. While she wanted to blame him entirely, she couldn’t help wondering if she might have done something differently. “He just announced one day that he was moving to start a new business. Said it was something he had to do for himself.” She shook her head as though she still couldn’t believe it. “I thought he meant he’d get started and we’d follow later. But he didn’t. It wasn’t just a job. He wanted his freedom and he took it.”
She rubbed the toe of her sandal in the dusty dirt, making a swirly pattern that turned into a heart with a winding tail. “We had some savings that I protected once I realized what was going on. I needed to pay for housing, food. Clothing.” She’d moved the savings money knowing that if Rob wanted to claim it, he’d end up creating more problems for himself. “We’ve been living on that while I tried to find a job to support us both.”
Luke said a not-so-nice word that made Emily snort with surprised laughter.
“I called him that several times, too, over the last year. And I’ll admit, I waited, thinking he’d come to his senses, that it was just a sort of crisis he’d get out of his system and we could put it all back together. But when he didn’t, and the bills were piling up and the bank account dwindling, I filed for divorce and support.”
“Sometimes life throws you one hell of a monkey wrench and all you can do is deal. Put one foot in front of the other,” Luke replied.
Emily looked over at him, but his face was shadowed in the dark. Was that the voice of experience? His mother had passed away years ago. That must have been difficult. There was so much she didn’t know about Luke Evans. On one hand she wanted to know more, to find some sort of solidarity with someone. On the other she knew she’d be better off to leave well enough alone, so she kept the questions on her tongue unsaid.
They turned and started walking back towards the house. An owl called from a nearby line of trees and Emily jumped at the sound, chafing her arms with her hands.
“You’re cold.”
“No, it’s good,” she replied. “I needed this. I needed to get away. So did Sam. That’s the real reason we left Calgary. Everything there was a reminder to Sam of our old life. He couldn’t move past just wanting it back—how could he? He’s not quite five. He doesn’t understand. I don’t understand. Sam just wanted Daddy to come home. He wanted family vacations and a huge pile of presents under the Christmas tree. I couldn’t provide all of that on my own. Lord knows I did my best.”
Emily shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’m not lazy, Luke. I applied for jobs for months. Anything I found was minimum wage or shift work or both. On minimum wage I can’t afford babysitting. And shift work is horrible for finding good child care.” She pursed her lips. “But this job is the best of both worlds. I get to do something I’m good at and be with my son. I’ve sold the Calgary house and I’m going to start over.” She smiled, but it didn’t chase away the cold. “I hope. I suppose if it doesn’t work, there’s always my parents. But no one wants to move back in with Mom and Dad, do they?”
Luke halted in the middle of the driveway. He looked up at the house, then up at the sky, and finally blew out a breath. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “It might not be so bad,” he said quietly as the owl hooted. He turned to her and she felt her chest constrict beneath his gaze.
“But I don’t think you’ll need to worry. You strike me as the kind that always lands on her feet, Emily.”
Luke studied her face as she smiled up at him. There was no denying that Emily was beautiful. But there was more. There was a quiet resolve to her that was equally attractive. She was a hard worker—he could tell that in the sheer volume of tasks she’d accomplished today. Even as her world spun out of control, she seemed in charge of it. Grounded. Calm in the middle of a storm. Sam thought the sun rose and set in her, because she put him first. He remembered the way she’d smoothed Sam’s hair today, or had firmly made him mind his manners during dinner. Her kid was damned lucky.
“I hope you’re not saying that just to be nice. I don’t want pity, you know.”
“Would I say anything for the sole purpose of being nice?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Good point.” Her eyes sparkled up at him and he felt an unusual knot in his gut as her tongue wet her lips.
It was only a partial lie. He did feel sorry for her. Sorry that she’d been hurt and sorry she was having to deal with things alone. He knew all too well how that felt. To know that everything rests on your shoulders. To know that any decision you make affects others forever. He’d wished for a helping hand so many times when he was younger, first when his mom had died and then when his dad fell sick with Alzheimer’s. He knew what it was to bear the weight of a family on his shoulders. In the past two days he’d questioned his sanity in letting Emily and Sam stay, but now that he knew a little more about their situation, he was glad.
And he was smart enough to know that if he told her such a thing she’d be furious. He was on good terms with their friend, Pride.
Meanwhile his body was tense just from being near her. He only wanted to help. Why then did just the soft scent of her, the sound of her voice, make his body tighten?
“If we keep on as we’ve started, I think we’ll get along just fine,” he said, thinking it sounded incredibly hokey, but he had to say something. She was a mother, for God’s sake. A mother with a ton of baggage she was carrying around. The fleeting impulse to kiss her was beyond crazy. That was definitely a complication he didn’t need.
“I think so, too,” she agreed.
They drew nearer the house, the walk coming to an end and with it their confidences in the dark. “Thank you for telling me about your situation,” he said. He looked up and thought he saw movement at the curtain of Sam’s room, but in the dark he couldn’t be sure. Was the boy watching them? Now that he knew more about it, he could understand Sam being mixed up and protective of his mother. Not that it excused bad behavior. There’d be no more sneaking out after bedtime.
“It was only fair. I’m a stranger, right? You agreed to this arrangement without knowing anything about me. You don’t need me to bring trouble to your door. No fear of that, anyway,” she said softly. “Rob doesn’t care enough to come after us.”
She tried to make it sound as though she didn’t care, but he knew she did. He wondered what kind of man didn’t love his kid enough to keep in touch, to know where they were? Luke didn’t want the added responsibility of children, but if he had them, he’d do a damn sight better job of parenting than that.
He wasn’t sure how a man could let his wife go either. Especially one like Emily.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, and meant it.
“Me, too.” She sighed in the moonlight. “One of these days you’ll have to tell me your story,” she suggested.
“Not likely,” he replied quickly. “Not much to tell.”
She laughed, and it seemed to lighten the evening. “Now why don’t I believe that? You’re pretty close-mouthed when it comes to your own saga.” She grinned, looking impish in the moonlight. “But you have been kind and generous, letting us both stay.”
“No one’s ever accused me of being either,” he replied, their steps slowing, scuffing along in the dirt of the driveway. “Most would say I’m practical.” He’d had to be, getting the girls the rest of the way to adulthood and making sure the farm could support them all. There hadn’t been time for what most twenty-year-olds had been doing—working hard, but playing harder. It made him think of the old Bible verses from Sunday school, about leaving childish things behind.
“Do you ever wish you’d finished your degree, Emily?”
She looked up at him, putting one hand on the wood railing of the steps. “When the money was dwindling, I confess I did. But sometimes you exchange old dreams for new ones. After five years, this is what I do best. I love being home with Sam. I loved looking after my house and cooking and doing all the special things I couldn’t do if I’d been working all day. I was very fortunate, you know?”
“And do you ever think of going back?”
She paused, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe. But not pharmacy. Something else. Something that uses my strengths. I guess I just don’t know what that is yet.”
For several seconds they stood there staring at each other. Luke’s gaze dropped to her lips and then back up to her eyes. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the way her hair curled around her collar, or the soft sound of her voice that reached inside of him and made him want. And what he wanted was to kiss her—for the second time in ten minutes.
Which was absolutely plumb crazy. There were a dozen solid reasons why he shouldn’t.
And he wouldn’t.
But he couldn’t help thinking about it just the same.
“Well, Mr. Evans, I believe we both have early starts in the morning.” She turned to go up the steps. “There is a lot more to be done around here. I think tomorrow I’ll examine your vegetable garden.”
Lord, she had a lot of pride. But Luke understood that. It made him want to lend his assistance. “I haven’t tended to the weeds in a while. The potatoes are sure to need hoeing.”
He took a step forward, and his gaze dropped to her full, lush lips. He was standing in the moonlight with a beautiful woman and all he could do was talk about gardens and chores. Had it been that long since he’d dated that he had lost all concept of conversation? The moment stretched out and he leaned forward, just a bit until the floral scent he now recognized as hers filled his nostrils.
He reached out and took her fingers in his hand and felt them tremble.
This was ridiculous. She’d just got through telling him about her disintegrated marriage and he was contemplating coming on to her? He straightened, took a step back.
“It’s been a long day,” she whispered, pulling her fingers away and tucking them into her pockets. He heard the nervous quaver in her voice and knew she understood exactly what direction his thoughts had taken.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
She went inside, closing the door quietly behind her, but for several minutes Luke sat on the porch, thinking.
How could a man just walk out on his family that way? Leave his responsibilities behind? A real man did what needed to be done. His dad had instilled that in him from the time he was younger than Sam. But just because Northcott had left his wife and kid didn’t mean they were suddenly Luke’s responsibility. For the last decade, he’d had the ranch to worry about, and his sisters until they’d made their way on their own. Now it was the ranch and his father’s failing health. It was more than enough. He didn’t need to take on any wounded strays.
He just had to remember to shut down any more thoughts of kissing her. Uncomplicated. That was exactly how this was going to stay. And after she was gone, he’d manage on his own once more.
Just like he always did.

CHAPTER FIVE
EMILY CALLED HER parents first thing after breakfast, once Luke was out of the house and she’d sent Sam upstairs to get dressed. She kept the call brief, merely letting them know of the change of situation and a number where they could contact her.
Then she hung up, feeling like a big fat coward. Her parents had no idea how tight things had become financially, and she didn’t want them to either. She knew her dad would insist on helping, something they could not afford now that he was retired. Maybe Luke was right. Maybe she did have too much pride. But there was satisfaction in knowing she was doing it herself. And refusing help also meant she was one-hundred-percent free to make her own choices. She liked that.
She liked being at the Evans ranch, too. She had a purpose, something that had seemed to be missing for too long. She hung out a load of laundry, smelling the lilacs on the air as she pinned the clothes on the line. Sam handed her the clothespins, his dark hair shining in the morning sunlight. “I like it here,” she said easily, taking another of Luke’s T-shirts and hanging it by the hem. “What about you, Sam?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s quiet. And I haven’t been able to see much.”
“Maybe this afternoon we can take a walk. Search out some wildflowers and birds’ nests.” Emily felt a catch in her heart, wishing for a moment that he had a brother or sister to keep him company. “I can ask around about some day camps, too, if you like.”
“I like the horses,” Sam replied, handing her another clothespin. “Do you think I’ll be able to ride one?”
Emily frowned. Sam was five and a full-grown horse was so … huge. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Luke has quarter horses, and he’s very busy.”
Sam looked disappointed. “Don’t worry,” she added, ruffling his hair. “Once we get settled it’ll all come around all right. Promise.”
Sam went off to color in an activity book while Emily fussed around the kitchen, taking a tray of chicken breasts out to thaw for supper. Their conversation had made her think. Keeping Sam busy might be harder than she’d thought. She’d have to think of ways to keep him entertained. She looked at the chicken and then around at the kitchen. Luke had thanked her for the meal last night but it was clear to her that he appreciated plain cooking. Why not keep Sam occupied today by baking? He loved helping her at home. An apple cake, perhaps. And cookies. Sam loved rolling cookies.
With the house tidied and the laundry under control, Emily liked the thought of spending the day in the kitchen, mixing ingredients. She hummed a little as she got out a mixing bowl and began setting out what she’d need. She imagined Luke coming in to rich spicy smells and the smile that would turn his lips up just a bit at the edges.
Her hand stilled on a bag of sugar. Why should it matter if he smiled at her or not? Her stomach did a flutter as she remembered the way his hands had squeezed her fingers last night. He was being nice, that was all. Maybe that was it. He didn’t come across as a typically nice person, so last night’s chat in the dark had thrown her off balance.
She knew the recipes by heart and when Sam came back downstairs, they began mixing, rolling and baking. The apple cake, with its topping of brown sugar and cinnamon was cooling on the stovetop and Sam took a fork and pressed on the peanut butter cookies in a crisscross pattern. She’d just sat Sam up to the table with a few warm cookies and a glass of milk when the screen door slammed. Emily pressed a hand to her belly, brushing the flour off the white-and-blue apron she’d found in a drawer. Luke was back already? And the kitchen was still a mess, with dirty dishes and flour dusting the counter surfaces!
“Luke, you here?”
The voice was male but it definitely wasn’t Luke’s. Emily bit down on her lip as Sam paused mid-drink and looked at her.
“Wait here,” she instructed Sam, and took a breath. Whoever was there was comfortable enough to come into the house without knocking.
“Hello?” She stepped through the swinging door of the kitchen and moved towards the foyer, where she could hear footsteps. “Can I help you?”
A tower of a man came around the corner. He topped Luke by a good three inches, and Luke had to be close to six feet. Instead of Luke’s uniform of jeans and T-shirts, this man wore dress trousers and a shirt and tie, and he carried a box cradled under one arm. Short-cropped walnut-brown hair and warm brown eyes assessed her. “You must be the new housekeeper,” he said, but he smiled, making the to-the-point introduction friendly rather than brusque. “I’m Joe. Luke’s brother-in-law.”
This was Cait’s husband, Emily remembered. The one who worked at the equipment dealership. “The new dad,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Congratulations. I’m Emily Northcott.”
His dark eyes were warm and friendly as he took her hand. “My wife is very glad you’re here at last. She was worried about her big brother managing everything.” He inclined his chin for a moment. “It smells good in here.”
She withdrew her hand from his, feeling unease center in her belly. When she’d met Luke and shaken his hand, there’d been a queer fluttering and the heat of his skin against hers. With Joe there was none of that. It shouldn’t have been different. Luke wasn’t any different. He was just a guy.
If that were true, why had she felt the curl of anticipation when the screen door had slammed?
Now his brother-in-law was here and she was feeling that she should play host. “There’s coffee and warm cookies, if you’d like some,” she invited.
“I wouldn’t say no.” He put the box on the floor by the door. “Cait in the hospital means cooking for myself right now. If you think Luke’s bad in the kitchen … I think I can burn water. Cait got her mother’s cooking skills, thank God.”
Joe followed her into the kitchen and stopped at the sight of Sam at the table. “Your son?” he asked.
“Yes, this is Sam. Sam, this is Mr. Evans’s brother-in-law, Joe.”
“You’re not a cowboy like Luke,” Sam stated, taking the last half of his cookie and dunking it in his milk. Crumbs floated on the top of the creamy surface.
Joe looked down at himself and back up. “No, I guess you’re right! I work at the tractor dealership in town.”
“I could tell by your clothes.”
Joe laughed while Emily resisted the compulsion to curb Sam’s matter-of-fact observations.
“Believe it or not, Sam, I’ve done a fair share of farm jobs. Not like Luke, of course.” Joe looked at Emily and winked. It was clear that Luke had already made a solid impression on her son. “But I’ve been known to lend a hand now and again.”
“Luke has a four-wheeler and a tractor and horses. I haven’t seen them yet, though. Not up close.”
Sam’s dark eyes were wide with honest disappointment. Emily hadn’t realized that Sam had noticed all those things in addition to the horses. She wondered if she could convince Luke to take him for a ride on the quad or tractor one of these days.
She handed Joe a mug of coffee and put the cream and sugar in front of him as he sat at the table. “Is your wife coming home from the hospital soon?” She offered him a cookie.
“Maybe this afternoon.”
“You must be excited.”
His eyes gleamed. “We are. We’ve been waiting a long time for Janna to arrive. Cait has been worried about Luke, though. The ad for the housekeeper didn’t get results and Cait is a mother hen. It’s one less thing for her to worry about. And then I won’t have to worry about her.”
It was clear to Emily by the way Joe spoke, from the gleam in his eyes, that he loved his wife very much. It was beautiful but caused a sad pang inside her. She’d thought she had that once. Had Rob ever looked at her that way? She’d thought so. Now she wondered if her radar had been flawed all along. She wasn’t sure she could ever trust her judgment again.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
Luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his hat in his hands and a smile of pure pleasure on his face. “How’s the new father?”
“Anxious to get my family home.”
“Mom and baby?” Luke stepped inside the kitchen and Emily felt the disconcerting swoop again, the one that felt like riding the roller coaster at Calaway Park. Trouble.
“Home this afternoon, I hope. I brought your parts out that you asked for. Have a cookie, Luke. They’re mighty good. I get the feeling you lucked out with your housekeeper.”
“I could have come in and picked them up.” Luke angled Joe a telling look. “Unless Cait sent you out here to do a little recon.”
Joe didn’t even look away, just smiled crookedly at Luke. “I’m not in a position to say no to that woman at the moment,” he replied. “And even if I tried, she’d remind me about the twelve hours of labor she just had to endure.”
Luke took a cookie from the plate and met Emily’s eyes across the kitchen. It was as if an electric wire sizzled between them, and she held her breath. Last night he’d come close to kissing her. At the time she’d put it down to her own fanciful thinking in the moonlight, but she was sure of it now. With his blue gaze flashing at her, she knew she’d been right.
He bit into the cookie and a few crumbs fluttered to the floor. She watched, fascinated, as his lips closed around the sweet and his tongue snuck out to lick away the bits that clung to his bottom lip.
Oh, dear.
She suddenly realized that Joe was watching them with one eyebrow raised and she forced a smile, grabbing a dishcloth and starting to run some water into the sink. “I’m afraid the kitchen is quite a mess,” she said, knowing it was inane conversation but desperately needing to fill the gap of silence. “I’d better get started on these dishes.”
“And I’d better get back to town.” Joe stood up, brought his cup to the sink. “Nice to meet you, Emily.”
“You, too. Congratulations again.” She squeezed soap into the running water. She didn’t dare look at him. She’d blush, she just knew it. She’d been horribly transparent when she’d met Luke’s gaze.
“Thanks for bringing the parts out,” Luke said, grabbing another cookie. “I’m heading back out, but now I can get a start on them tonight.”
A start? Emily’s head swiveled around to look at him. Did he work from dawn until dusk every day?
“Oh, and I brought out some rhubarb,” Joe added. “Liz sent it. She said if you couldn’t use it now to freeze it. I’m betting Emily could work her magic on it though.”
“I can try,” she said softly, watching the two of them leave the kitchen and head to the front door.
It was all so normal. A family who cared and looked after each other. Even the idea that Joe had been sent to scope her out for the family didn’t really bother her. It was what families did, she supposed. When Luke needed a tractor part, his brother-in-law brought it. Cait worried about him and his other sister sent rhubarb. It was their way of showing they cared. The kind of big family she’d always wanted and had never had.
Sam hopped down from his chair and asked if he could go play in the yard. She let him go, not wanting him to see the telltale moisture gathering in her eyes. She was a good mother. She knew that. She loved Sam and had never regretted staying home with him. But who was there for her?
She scrubbed at the mixing bowl that had held the cake batter and sniffed. Suddenly she wished for an older sister or brother. Someone she might have called when her life was falling apart to reminisce with about childhood. Someone to share her hurt with—and someone to make her laugh again.
Someone like Luke, last night. He’d listened. He’d even made her laugh a little. But Luke was different. There was nothing brotherly about the way she reacted when she was near him. That frankly scared her to death.
“I thought I’d bring you the rhubarb before I headed out.”
For once she hadn’t heard him come back in and his deep voice shimmered along all her nerve endings. She swallowed, hating that he’d caught her in a moment of self-pity. “Thank you, Luke. I’ll make sure I do something with it right away.”
“Em?”
He shortened her name and the intimate feeling of being alone with him multiplied.
“Are you okay?”
She gave a little laugh. “Oh, it’s foolishness. You caught me being a little sorry for myself, that’s all.”
“Why?”
He took a step closer.
She could hardly breathe. “I don’t know your family, but I get the sense that you all look after each other. It’s nice, that’s all. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“You’ve handled your situation all alone, haven’t you?”
“Pretty much. Friends can only take so much of hearing your troubles, you know? I’m not very much fun these days. So many of them are couples, and I was suddenly the odd man out. They were Rob’s friends, too, and it is awkward if you’re suddenly picking sides. It was just.”
“Easier to stay away?”
She looked up, surprised yet again that he seemed to understand so easily. “Yes, I guess so. Sometimes I miss the easygoing, fun Emily I used to be.”
“Taking the responsibility of the world on your shoulders tends to have that effect,” he replied, coming to her and putting his wide hands on her arms. “You are doing the best you can, right?”
She swallowed, tried to ignore the heat from his hands soaking through the cotton of her shirt. “Taking care of Sam is everything to me.” She blinked, feeling herself unravel at the kind way he was looking at her. “Not being able to support us makes me feel like such a failure.”
He lifted one hand and gently traced his thumb beneath her eye, lifting the moisture away from the skin. “You are not a failure, Emily. You only fail if you stop trying. And I might not know you well, but I can see you’re no quitter.”
It was a lifeline to cling to and she shuddered in a breath. But when she looked up into his eyes, everything seemed to drop out of her, making her feel weightless, feel that the clock on the wall had suddenly stopped ticking.
His fingers tightened on her shoulder as he drew her closer. For a few precious seconds his lips hovered only an inch from hers. Her heart hammered, wanting desperately for him to kiss her and terrified that he actually might.
Then his breath came out in a rush and he moved back, wiping a hand over his face. “What am I doing?” he asked, more to himself than to her, she realized. Her face flamed with embarrassment. He’d stepped back, but she would have kissed him. If he’d stayed there a moment longer, she would have leaned in and touched his lips with her own.
“I’m sorry.” He put his hands in his pockets and the blue heat she’d seen in his eyes was cool and controlled now. “That isn’t why you’re here. I overstepped, Emily. It won’t happen again.”
Why on earth was she feeling such profound disappointment? Kissing him would complicate everything! And there was Sam to consider. What if he saw them? He still hadn’t quite grasped the unalterable fact that his father wasn’t coming back.
“It would be confusing to Sam if he were to see,” she said quietly. “And I am not in the market for a relationship. You must know that.”
“I do. Of course I do.” He had the grace to look chastened. “I don’t play games, Emily. I’m not interested in romance either, and I won’t toy with you. What happened just now was … an aberration.”
He paused, and Emily knew he was measuring his words. What was he protecting? Luke seemed fine when he was dealing with others, but when it came to himself he was irritatingly closed off. He had been open and laughing with Joe, but with her he put the walls back up. She wondered why.
“I don’t understand you at all, Luke. You can be very distant, and then last night it was almost as if you were right there in my shoes. Why is that?”
He stared out the window and she wondered if he was avoiding looking at her on purpose.
“I know what it’s like to have so much responsibility on your shoulders, that’s all. I was only twenty when I took over this farm, and I’m the oldest. Cait and Liz were still in their teens. It’s not easy being thrust into the role of primary caregiver and provider. I understand that, Emily. After last night … let’s just say I want to help you get your feet beneath you again.”
Emily felt her pride take a hit. Had she really seemed that desperate? “Rescuing women and puppies, is that it?”
He frowned. “It’s not like that. There was no rescuing involved. I did need help. It was such a relief to come inside last night and know that the house wasn’t in shambles. To have a meal hot and waiting rather than throwing something together at the last minute. Why is it so hard for you to accept that this is important? I’m not a particularly charitable man, Emily. I’m not one for pretty words.”
She pondered it for a moment, not liking the answer that came to her mind.
“Don’t you think what you’ve done has value?”
He did know how to get in a direct shot, didn’t he? Emily dropped her eyes and reached for a dish towel.
“Economics, Emily. The value of something goes up when it’s in short supply. Believe me, I’ve had to keep up with the ranch and the house and … everything else on my own. I appreciate what you’ve done more than you know.”
She wondered what he’d really been going to say in the pause. What everything? “You’re just saying that.”
“Why would I?”
He came close again. Emily could feel him next to her shoulder and wanted so badly to turn into his arms. She clenched her jaw. How needy could she be, anyway? So desperate that she’d let herself be swayed by a husky voice and a pair of extraordinary blue eyes? She’d gone months without so much as a hug. Wanting to lose herself in his embrace made her weak, and she couldn’t give in. Her control was barely hanging on by a thread. She was afraid of what might happen if she let herself go. At the very least, she’d make a fool of herself, especially after their protests that neither of them were interested in romance. She didn’t want to look like a fool ever again.
“Did he tell you it wasn’t important?”
Emily didn’t have to ask who he was. She’d told Luke enough last night for him to paint a fairly accurate picture. “Staying home with Sam was a mutual decision,” she whispered. “But it didn’t stop him from getting in the little digs that the financial burden of the family rested on his shoulders. And he never quite saw that while I didn’t carry the finances, I looked after everything else, and gladly.” She swallowed. “We decided together. I did have to remind him of that on occasion.”
She twisted her hands in the dish towel, knowing if she turned her head the slightest bit she’d be staring into his eyes again. The temptation was there. To see if the flare in his eyes was real. Rob hadn’t appreciated her. She knew that now. He’d shouldered the financial responsibility of their family and then he’d had enough. She didn’t realize how much she needed the validation until she heard it from Luke’s lips—a relative stranger who seemed to appreciate her more in two short days than anyone had in years.
“There are some things you can’t put a price tag on,” Luke said. “He was a fool.”
Emily’s pulse leapt. Yes, he had been a fool. She had put everything into their family only to be discarded. She turned to Luke then, dropping the dish towel to the countertop. It was a seductive thing, to feel that she was being seen. Really seen.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know it in my head. It’s harder to convince my heart.”
A muscle ticked in Luke’s jaw as silence dropped. Emily couldn’t have dragged her gaze away if she’d tried. Their gazes meshed, pulling them together even as they both held back.
“Dammit,” Luke uttered, then curled his hand around the nape of her neck and moved in to kiss her.
She was vaguely aware of lifting her hands and placing them on his arms. The skin below the hem of his T-shirt sleeve was warm, covering solid muscle from his long days of manual labor. Every square inch of Luke Evans was solid, a formidable, unbreachable wall. Except his mouth. Oh, his mouth. It was incredibly mobile, slanted over hers and making her weak in the knees. He tasted like peanut butter cookies and coffee and the way he was kissing her made her feel like a strawberry, sweet and ripening on the vine in the summer sun.
His muscles relaxed against hers, but with the easing off came a new and wonderful complication: he settled into the kiss now, pulling her body flush against his, making her feel that it could go on forever and nearly wishing it would. She melted into him, resting against the solid wall of his chest, surrendering.
His cell phone rang, the holster vibrating against her hipbone. The ring tone sounded abnormally loud in the quiet kitchen and Emily staggered backwards, holding on to the counter for support. For one sublime second Luke’s gaze collided with hers, hot and perhaps a little confused. Blindly he reached for the phone and then the moment disintegrated into dust as he turned his attention to the display.
Emily grabbed at the discarded dish towel and began drying dishes, wiping each one with brisk efficiency before putting it on a clean portion of countertop. What had they done? Got completely carried away, that’s what, and right after they’d said they wouldn’t. Heat rushed to her cheeks and flooded through her body. It had been perfectly, wonderfully glorious.
But so wrong. If he’d set out to prove a point, he’d done it. She was vulnerable. Hungry for affection. She put down a mixing bowl and dropped her forehead to her palm. She’d been weak, when only minutes before she’d determined this wouldn’t happen. How could she keep the promises she’d made to herself and to Sam if she indulged in such a lack of self-control?
“I’ve got to get going,” Luke’s voice came from behind her and she straightened, stiffening her spine.
“Of course. You have work to do.”
“Emily.”
That one word—her name—seemed full of unasked questions. Was he feeling as uncertain as she was?
“Luke.” She said it firmly, shutting down any doubts. This couldn’t happen again. Thinking about whatever chemistry was zinging between them was bad enough. Acting on it was just wrong. She had a plan. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it would be good for her son. A mother did what she had to do. That included taking this job until she could find a more permanent situation.
“I … uh …”
Her throat constricted. She couldn’t bear to hear him apologize or say what a mistake it had been.
“You’d better attend to whatever that was,” she said, nodding at his phone.
“We’ll talk later?”
One more complicated look and he spun on his heel, heading out the door again without waiting for her to answer.
Talk? Emily put her fingers to her lips. They were still humming from the contact with his. They wouldn’t talk about this at all—not if she could help it.

CHAPTER SIX
LUKE MADE THE last turn around the field, leaving a swath of sweet-smelling grass behind him and a sense of relief in its wake. The sun shone benevolently down on him right now, but by tomorrow night that would change. The forecast was for rain and thunderstorms. As long as the fine weather held out for another day the first cut would be done and baled and, most importantly, dry. If everything went on schedule. And if the repairs he’d made to the baler held. A lot of ifs.
He checked his watch. Nearly lunch. The Orrick brothers had been raking the east field and would eat their meal in their truck. Luke could have brought his lunch with him, but he looked forward to going back to the house and seeing what Emily had cooked up. Usually he appreciated the thought of peace and quiet and solitude at mealtime. But lately he’d found himself looking forward to Emily’s quiet greetings and Sam’s chatter.
As he turned the tractor south towards home, he frowned. This wasn’t something he should let himself get used to. Cooking or not, being around Emily wasn’t the best idea. Not after yesterday. What had he been thinking, kissing her like that? He’d got carried away. She’d turned those liquid brown eyes on him, so hurt and insecure. She’d hate his pity, but he was sorry that she had to carry the weight of her family on her own, knowing there was no way out from beneath the weight of responsibility. Sorry that she’d been married to a man who didn’t appreciate all she did. Her lip had quivered and he’d wanted to make it up to her somehow.
Oh, who was he fooling? He touched the throttle, speeding up as he hit the straight dirt lane. He had wanted to kiss her, plain and simple. Still did, if it came to that, even though he knew it was a huge mistake. He could justify it six ways from Sunday, but the truth was she was the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on in forever. She was out here in the middle of nowhere, but she didn’t turn up her nose like so many of the girls did these days—like ranching was some sort of second-class occupation. She breathed deeply of the air, enjoying the space and freedom. And the way she touched Sam, ruffling his hair and showering him with hugs. It was the sort of affectionate touch that was second nature to a mother. The kind he’d grown up with. His mother had been firm but loving. His father, too.
Until his mother had died and everything changed.
The house was in sight, and he spied Emily and Sam in the vegetable garden. For a moment it felt so incredibly right. But then the feeling grew heavy in his chest. It couldn’t be right. Emily was far too hurt from her divorce, no matter what she said. And Luke liked Sam but he didn’t want kids. He didn’t want to be married, either. The last thing he wanted was the burden of caring for a family, risking putting them through what he’d been through. Each time he visited his father he was reminded of what the future could hold for him. Seeing his dad suffer quelled any ideas Luke had about a family of his own. No, he’d run the farm and leave the marriage and kids thing to his sisters.
And no matter what Emily said, she was the marrying kind. She wasn’t the kind of woman a man trifled with. She certainly wasn’t the type for an eyes-open-no-strings fling. So that left them right back at boss and employee.
He pulled up to the barn and wasn’t surprised to see Sam bounding along to greet him. He was a good kid. He minded his mother and was polite and didn’t get into things he shouldn’t get into. “Hey, Sam.”
“Luke! We’re weeding your garden and I only pulled up one bean.” His face fell a little. “I hope that’s okay.”
“One little bean plant isn’t going to make any difference, don’t worry,” Luke assured him. The boy had clearly forgiven him for any slights made earlier as he aimed a wide smile at Luke. He noticed Sam had lost his first tooth and couldn’t help but smile back at the lopsided grin. “Tooth fairy give you anything for that?”
“A dollar,” Sam announced proudly.
Luke cleared his head, pushing away the earlier thoughts of kissing Emily. Sitting on a tractor for hours always gave him way too much time to think. What was he so worried about? It wasn’t like he was falling in love with her or anything. It had just been a kiss. Nothing to lose sleep over.
Except he had. It had been ten past midnight when he’d checked the alarm clock last night. Replaying the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. He walked towards the garden with Sam, watching Emily bent over the tiny green plants. His gaze dropped to the curve of her bottom and his mouth went dry. She straightened, standing up in the row of peas and put her hands on her lower back, stretching.
Little pieces of her hair curled up around the edges of one of his baseball caps, the curved brim shading her eyes from the sun. She wore cutoff denim shorts and a T-shirt the same color as the lilacs by the front verandah, the cotton hugging her ribs, emphasizing her spare figure. His gaze caught on the long length of her leg and he swallowed. It was impossible to stop thinking about yesterday when he’d held her in his arms.
“We might actually get this first cut done before the weather changes,” he remarked as he approached the rows of vegetables. Now he was reduced to talking about the weather? It wasn’t a good sign when he felt the need to keep things to nice, safe topics. He looked over the garden. Half of it was neatly weeded and tended, the tiny shoots healthy and green. The other half was slightly scraggly. “Thank you for doing the garden. It was on my to-do list.”
“It was no trouble. The inside of the house is under control now and it was too beautiful a day to waste. I like being outside, and so does Sam. Don’t you Sam?”
Sam nodded, his bangs flopping. “Yup. Mom showed me what a pea plant looks like, and a bean and the carrots, too!” He held up a small pail. “And I took the weeds to the compost pile, too.”
“You’re a good help,” Luke said, unable to resist the boy’s excitement. How often had he done this very thing? All the kids had. Working in the garden had been part of their summer chores. “I like working in the outdoors, too.”
“Mom said you’re too busy to take me on the tractor or anything.”
Luke angled his head and looked at Sam, assessing. Sam was what, almost five? At that age, Luke had already been helping in the barns and riding on the tractor with his dad. The memories were good ones, and Sam hadn’t experienced anything like that.
“I’m going to be raking hay this afternoon. You can come with me if you like.”
Maybe it was a bad idea. He was trying to keep his distance and he wasn’t sure Emily would appreciate him encouraging her son. But neither could he stand the thought of the boy feeling alone, left out. Luke knew that helping his dad had made him feel a part of something. The sound of the machinery, the time out of doors, the sense of accomplishment. What could it hurt, just this once?
Sam’s eyes lit up and he practically bounced on his toes. “Mom? Can I?”
Emily’s dark eyes were centered on him again and he felt the same tightening as he had yesterday when he’d held her body against his. Lord, she’d been sweet and soft and when he’d kissed her every single thought in his brain had gone on vacation.
“You don’t have to do that, Luke. You’re busy. Sam can wait for another time.”
Sam’s shoulders slumped in disappointment and he scuffed a toe in the dirt, the action reminiscent of his mother. Clearly Sam had wanted to go, and it was no big deal having him on the tractor with him. Hadn’t the boy suffered enough disappointments lately? Luke looked at Emily, knowing she was acutely unhappy with the path her life had taken. He knew she was trying to do her best, but that cloud of unhappiness affected Sam, too. She couldn’t keep him tied to her apron strings forever.
“It’s just a tractor ride,” he answered. “I’m going to be sitting there anyway, raking what we cut yesterday. The boys will be coming along behind, doing the baling. No reason why he shouldn’t come along. It’ll be a chance for him to learn something new. And give you a little time to yourself.”
“Please, Mom?”
She paused.
“He’ll be safe with me, Emily. I promise. You have to let go some time.”
Her gaze snapped to his and her lips thinned but he held his ground. Sam was a boy. He needed freedom to play and see and do things. Luke understood Emily being protective, but an afternoon in the sun would be good for him. Luke was not her ex. If he made a promise he’d keep it. “It’s only a tractor ride,” he repeated.
Emily paused, taken aback by Luke’s words. Was she over-protective? She didn’t think so. She was only focused on Sam feeling loved and secure. His expressive eyes had looked so hurt, so broken since his father left and she’d do anything to keep that from happening again. She didn’t want Sam to get any hopes up.
But perhaps Luke was right. It was just a tractor ride, after all. Didn’t Sam deserve some fun? “I’ll think about it over lunch.” She put off a firm decision, needing him to see that she wasn’t going to accept being nudged or coerced. He should have done the courtesy of asking her in private. Heavens, he’d barely said two words to Sam the first few days and now here they were, seemingly thick as thieves.
“Lunch is ready, by the way. I made chicken salad this morning and a cobbler out of that rhubarb your sister sent.”
He sent her a cheeky smile from beneath his hat. “You might have to stop treating me so well. I’ll get round and fat.” He stuck out his stomach and Sam giggled.
Emily pressed her lips together. The man was exasperating! It was almost as if he and Sam were in cahoots together. Which was probably preferable to his taciturn moodiness the first few days, but she didn’t want Sam to get too attached. He could get a good case of hero worship without much trouble. And this job wasn’t permanent.
Sam bounded on ahead to wash up and Emily took off her cap and shook out her hair. She looked straight ahead as she asked, “You might have asked me first, rather than putting me on the spot.”
“What? Oh, I didn’t think you’d mind. He did mention something about the tractor the other day, didn’t he?”
“That’s not the point.”
His steps halted, churning up a puff of dust. “Look, I know you’re worried about him and it’s something he might find fun. I don’t get your problem.”
She angled him a look that said Get real. “My problem is, he’s had too many promises made to him that have been broken. Have you seen how he looks at you? Like you hung the moon and the stars. He’s been missing a father figure and suddenly here you are.”
Luke laughed. “I doubt it. He snuck out of bed the other night and told me off for not complimenting you on your veal.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open. “He what?”
“Came to the shop and told me you were a nice lady and that his dad doesn’t like him and he doesn’t care whether I do either. Now, normally a five-year-old boy’s opinion wouldn’t bother me, but it occurred to me that perhaps I hadn’t been as welcoming as I might have been. Don’t read too much into it. Like I said, it’s just a tractor ride.”
Emily folded her hands together. “I guess I can’t blame him for being protective. His trust has been shaken.”
“Just his?” he asked quietly, walking along beside her again. “Are you really planning never to trust anyone again?”
How could he blame her for being a little gun-shy? “Let’s just say trust is a valuable commodity and it has to be earned.”
“Yes, and your ex is a prime example of earning it and then abusing it. There’s more to building trust than time.”
His words cut her deeply. She had trusted Rob and he’d ground her faith in him beneath his heel when he left. She’d made a lot of progress since then. She’d stopped blaming herself for everything. She’d stopped feeling so desperate. She’d started focusing on the good—as much as that was possible. But trust … that was something she wasn’t sure she’d ever quite accomplish again.
“If you’re so smart, what else is there?” She didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Sometimes Luke was far too sure of himself. Like he had her all figured out.
“Actions. Hell, instincts, if it comes to that.”
His observations made her uncomfortable, because her instincts had told her from the beginning that Luke was a man she could trust. And he’d kept his word about everything since her arrival.
“Right now I don’t put a lot of credence in my instincts.”
He stopped, his boots halting in the dusty drive and she kept on a few steps until she realized he wasn’t with her anymore. She looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes flashed at her. “And I’ve done something to … not earn your trust? Is that it?”
He had her there. And yesterday’s kiss … she couldn’t blame him for that either. She’d wanted it as much as he had. Not that they’d talk about it. No way.
“I’m cautious, then,” she responded, as they reached the steps. “Very, very cautious.”
“So can Sam come with me or not?”
She left him in the doorway taking off his boots. “I’m still thinking,” she said. She’d already made up her mind that Sam could go, but she wasn’t going to let Luke think he’d won so easily.
Just as they were finishing the meal, a cloud of dust announced an approaching car. They both looked out the window and Emily heard Luke’s heavy sigh. “Who is it?”
“My sister, Liz.”
“The rhubarb sister.”
He smiled at her summary. “Yes, that’s the one.” Emily watched as he checked his watch and tapped his foot. “Dammit, she’s got perfect timing,” he muttered.
Liz parked the car in the shade of a tree and Emily felt the strange, nervous feeling she’d had yesterday meeting Joe. As though she was an imposter, a tag-along.
“I’m sorry, Emily. I think the family is curious about you, and you’ve been put under the microscope.”
“Why would they do that?”
Luke plopped his hat on his head. “Because you’re not the matronly housekeeper they expected. Because you’re staying here. Because you’re young and pretty.” He sighed. “Because people who are married think that everyone else in the world should be married, and they feel free to stick their noses in.”
Emily opened her mouth and then closed it again, unsure of how she was supposed to react to that little tidbit. It wasn’t the meddling that shook her—she half expected that. It was the young and pretty part. She was only twenty-eight but there were days she felt ancient. And pretty … she’d been living in T-shirts and yoga pants for so long that she forgot what it was like to feel pretty.
She wouldn’t dream of admitting such a thing to Luke, though. Surely his family wasn’t putting the cart this much before the horse. “Married?” The thought was preposterous, and she laughed. Even if she did want to get married—which she didn’t—she’d only known Luke for a few days.
He raised his right eyebrow until it nearly disappeared beneath his hat. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? But I’ll bet my boots Liz is here to check you out. She’ll have some good excuse. But don’t worry, she means well. This should be the end of it. You can thank the Lord that I don’t have more sisters to interfere.”
With that he went outside to greet Liz.
Liz came towards the house, carrying a blond-headed baby on her hip and with two more youngsters trailing behind. Emily bit down on her lip. She was an object of curiosity now. Yesterday’s longing for siblings and a close-knit family dissipated as she realized that intimacy also meant interference. The last thing she wanted was to be scrutinized. Judged. And to come up short.
“What brings you out, Liz?” Emily heard him call out and closed her eyes. She could do this. Liz would never know how Luke’s voice gave her goose bumps or how they’d kissed until they were both out of breath. Emily fluffed her hair, smoothed her fingertips over her cheeks, and let out a calming breath.
Luke met his sister in the yard. The twin girls took off running across the lawn, burning off some stuck-in-the-car energy.
“Strawberries,” Emily heard the woman say. “I brought out a flat of strawberries.”
“I’m in the middle of haying. When would I have time for strawberries?”
They’d reached the porch and Emily stood just inside the screen door of the house, wanting to scuttle away but knowing how that would look—as though she was running from something. Hiding. She had nothing to hide.
“Joe told us you’ve finally got some help. It’s about time, Luke. Joe said she’s very pretty, too. You’ve been holding out on us, brother.”
“No big surprise, Nosy Nellie. Cait put the request in at the agency, after all. You can’t fool me.”
Emily’s cheeks flamed as Liz looked up and suddenly realized Emily was standing behind the screen door. For a second, Liz got a goofy look on her face as she realized she’d been caught. Then she replaced the look with a wide smile.
“Joe was right. You are pretty. I’m Liz, Luke’s sister.”
Good heavens, was everyone in Luke’s family so forthright?
“Berries are in the trunk, Luke. Be a good brother.”
Luke’s jaw tightened as Liz smiled and adjusted the weight of the baby on her hip. Emily looked to him for guidance, but he gave none. Emily couldn’t stand to be impolite, so she opened the door. “Come on in. We were just having lunch. Come have some cobbler.”
Liz swept in and Emily heard Luke’s boots tromp off down the steps. First Joe and now Liz. The family obviously thought there was more to the arrangement than a simple trading of services. Which there wasn’t. Much. Emily wondered how fast the telephone wires would burn up if Liz knew that they’d kissed yesterday.
“Don’t mind Luke,” Liz admonished, nosing around the kitchen. “He’s always a bear in haying season. No time to call his own, you know? Not the biggest conversationalist either.”
Emily was tempted to set Liz straight on that. Last night and just a few moments ago Luke had managed to hold his own quite well in the conversation department. She wondered how he managed that. He seemed to say a lot, but none of it really told her anything. Except that he’d been left in charge of the family at a young age.
But she did not want to open that can of worms with Luke’s sister. She wasn’t a busybody and knew exactly how awful it was to have people pry into her situation. She would keep the conversation impersonal. “Rain’s coming, Luke said.”
Great job, Em, she thought. First words she spoke and she was parroting the forecast? Perhaps she could have come up with something slightly more inspired.
Liz nodded. “He’ll work until dark tonight, I expect. Good to get the first cut in though. What do you think of the house?”
Emily busied herself fixing a bowl of cobbler and ice cream for Liz. “It’s charming. Much nicer than the cookie cutter houses in the city.”
Liz nodded. She sat at the table and perched the baby on her knee, bouncing her a little and making the little girl giggle. “I think so, too. Luke’s done some work to it since taking it over, but for the most part it looks just like it did when we were growing up. Of course, I’m living in town now. And I’ve got the little ones to keep me busy.”
Luke came back in, carrying a wooden flat filled with boxes of crimson strawberries. “I think the twins have made a new friend,” he said dryly.
Emily and Liz went to the window. Sam and Liz’s blond girls were racing through the yard, playing what appeared to be a rousing game of tag.
“It’s good for Sam. He hasn’t spent much time with friends since.”
She stopped. Since the divorce. Since there was no longer any money for playgroups and preschool.
“He’ll have to come play with the twins while you’re here. It’ll get them out of my hair,” Liz offered freely.
Another tie to break later? Emily wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But then she balanced it against Sam being alone here in an unfamiliar place and no children to play with. “That might be nice.”
“Call anytime.” Liz replied, putting the baby down on the floor. The little girl rocked back and forth for a minute before setting off at a steady crawl. “You and Luke could come over for dinner.”
“Liz,” Luke warned, and Emily had to look away. It was such an overt bit of matchmaking that she squirmed in her chair.
“What? Look, both Cait and I are thrilled you have some help at last. That’s all. And Emily doesn’t know a soul besides you. And we all know what great company you are.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m heading back out. The boys are going to wonder where I am. Emily, tell Sam I’ll take him out with me another time. He should enjoy the girls while they’re here.” He put his plate in the dishwasher and cut himself a massive slice of apple cake. “For the road,” he said, flashing a quick grin.
She nodded and walked with him to the door.
“Are you sure you’re okay with my sister?” he asked quietly, pausing and resting his palm against the frame.
Emily forced a small laugh. “You have work to do. I’ll be fine.”
“She’s meddling. Thinking that this is more than it is.”
That should have relieved her but didn’t. Would it be so awful for them to think that he liked her, for heaven’s sake? Not that she wanted him to, but was it incomprehensible that he might? “Don’t worry about it. And it’s good for Sam to have playmates for an hour or so. He’s been lonely.” She paused. “Are you really going to work until dark?”

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