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A FAMILY FOR

THE RUGGED

RANCHER

DONNA ALWARD

SOLDIER ON

HER DOORSTEP

SORAYA LANE

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.