by Donna Alward
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.”
Em
ily 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.
