by Donna Alward
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 care-giver 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. Em
ily 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 hip-bone. 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 cot
ton 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?
