didn’t want her friendship, Kate noted with disappointment.
“All right,” Kate conceded, trying to not feel hurt. “If you insist.”
Sam escorted her briskly up the stairs to the second floor. They passed Kevin’s and Lewis’s extremely messy bedrooms—a kid’s bathroom, which was also a royal mess. As they headed for the stairs leading to the third floor, Kate pointed to the closed door on the left. “What’s in there?”
Sam stopped just short of her. They were close. Too close.
“Master bedroom and bath. It’s off-limits.”
Kate took a step back. “To just me or the kids, too?”
His glance narrowed. The unhappiness that had been part of his face for months now deepened. “What do you think?”
That was just it, Kate thought, she didn’t have a clue. And Sam wasn’t helping her to understand him.
Sam led the way up to the third floor, where Riley, Will and Brad bunked. Their bedrooms and the spacious bath were equally messy. “Are the boys responsible for their own rooms?” Kate asked as she looked around.
“To a point,” Sam said. “Someone else usually vacuums and dusts.”
“Their rooms would have to be picked up first.”
“You’re beginning to catch on to the problem.”
“You can’t just tell them to clean up?”
A shadow passed over Sam’s eyes and the lines of fatigue around his mouth deepened. “You really don’t know much about rearing kids, do you?” He gave the stinging words a second to sink in, then continued. “In any case, as our temporary household manager you’ll be expected to ride herd on the boys ’round the clock.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“Working. From home tonight, but I’ll probably go into my office in Dallas first thing tomorrow morning.” Sam brushed by her, inundating her with his masculinity and rapidly led the way back down the two sets of stairs to the first floor. Bypassing his study and the formal dining room—which were both at the front of the house, on either side of the foyer—he escorted her through a living room with comfy-looking sofas. Kate couldn’t help but notice that sometime in the last ten minutes, mud had been tracked inside. Ignoring the mess on the floor, Sam led the way past a screened-in sunporch off the family room to the dream kitchen with every built-in, top-of-the-line appliance imaginable. “I’ll give you some money to buy groceries in the morning. In the meantime…” He gestured at the polished black-granite countertops and open cherrywood cabinets. Here, too, dirty dishes and trash covered every surface. The floor was sticky. “You better use what’s here to rustle up some dinner for the boys.”
Kate nodded. Having apparently decided to not wait for her to fix anything, Riley came out of the laundry room on the other side of the breakfast nook. He was eating a pickle and drinking milk straight from the container. Brad looked ready to go out for the evening and was reeking with cologne. Will was putting on his running shoes. Kevin came toward Kate. Shyly, he slipped a Matchbox car in her hand, then stood close to her while Lewis picked up a discarded burger wrapper next to Kate’s foot, wadded it up and dropped it into the overflowing kitchen trash bin.
“When are we gonna eat, Kate?” Riley prodded, helping himself to another pickle from the big jar on the counter. “I’m starving.”
“As soon as possible,” Kate said, wondering where to start. Not even in summer camps had she encountered such a disorganized mess.
“I can help you, if you want,” Lewis piped up shyly.
Happy at least one of Sam’s sons was into being helpful, Kate dug in her pocket and handed over her keys. “Thank you, Lewis. I’d appreciate that. Would you mind getting my bags out of my car? And bring in my laptop computer, too, please.”
Sam’s lips compressed. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you need your laptop?”
“E-mail—it’s our main way of communicating when Craig is stationed overseas.”
Looking happy to be able to help, Lewis went off to do Kate’s bidding. The other boys, perhaps fearing they would be enlisted to help out, too, drifted off in all directions. Kate turned to Sam, already mentally rolling up her sleeves. “Before I start cooking, I want to get this place straightened up,” she said.
“Fine.” Sam regarded Kate impatiently. “But before you do that, let me show you where you’re going to bunk.” Sam led the way to the small bedroom and bath on the other side of the kitchen. “This is the guest suite. As you can see, you have your own TV, phone, bedroom and bath.”
Lewis came rushing in, her suitcase and laptop computer in tow. He set both down on the floor, then asked, “Did you need those boxes of wedding books and stuff, too?”
“I sure do.” Kate smiled and watched as he ran back outside.
Sam arched a brow in Kate’s direction. “I’m using my vacation to plan my wedding,” Kate explained as they headed back into the kitchen.
He lounged against the counter and folded his arms in front of him. “When’s the date?”
“Sometime in the fall or maybe over the Thanksgiving or Christmas holidays. Craig and I haven’t actually set a date yet.”
His brows drew together in a frown. “Why not?”
Kate flushed, feeling abruptly self-conscious as she met Sam’s eyes. “It’s not that easy,” she said, wishing Sam suddenly didn’t sound so much like her parents. “Craig has to get permission from his superiors to take time off.”
“So why hasn’t he already done that?” Sam prodded, difficult as ever. “Given the fact you’ve been engaged for…what?” he asked impatiently.
“Three years now,” Kate said, beginning to feel a little bit defensive despite herself. “And it’s complicated.”
Sam shrugged. He obviously didn’t think so. “Seems to me if you and Craig really wanted to do this, nothing, not even the U.S. military, would stand in the way.”
“Thanks for the insight,” Kate said, annoyed he had so quickly and easily gotten under her skin.
“Any time.” Sam shrugged.
“And for your information,” Kate continued, “we’re going to set a date when Craig comes home on leave the weekend after next.” She paused, knowing now was as good a time as any to inform Sam of her plans. “I’m going to need that time off, by the way, if you still haven’t found someone suitable to care for the boys.”
“I’ll have found someone by then,” Sam vowed flatly. He sent her a hard, warning look. “In the meantime, I meant what I said, you’re here as a temporary household manager and baby-sitter and that’s all.”
Back to that again. “I promise I won’t run any group therapy sessions,” Kate said dryly. She wouldn’t promise she wouldn’t be available to listen, if either Sam or his boys decided they wanted to talk.
Sam regarded her sternly. “Just so we understand each other.”
“Oh, we do,” Kate replied. Maybe more than you’d like, Sam McCabe.
A tense silence fell between them. Sam turned and started to head out. “I’ll be in my study, working,” he said over his shoulder.
“Wait just a minute.” Kate hurried ahead and inserted herself between him and the doorway. “I’m going to need your help as well as the boys’, Sam.”
Sam looked at her suspiciously.
“Whether you’re paying me or not, you shouldn’t expect me to clean this up alone,” she said practically. “All six of you made this mess. All six of you