to do, but he still couldn’t picture himself going through with it. He saw himself in his dusty jeans and worn boots, watching a football game on a Sunday, while she sat beside him in one of her suits, her makeup perfect and her hair untouchable, reading book reviews and finding art galleries for them to visit.
Damn! He’d be miserable. And so would she. It was ridiculous!
Then he’d start the logic all over again, trying to convince himself that marriage to Suzanne McCoy was the right choice. By four in the morning, he was punch-drunk with lack of sleep. He decided to wait until six o’clock, another two hours, before he told her what he had decided. Then he could come home and fall in bed for a couple or three hours.
Until then, he would pace the floor some more.
Chapter Three
Suzanne had been getting up at six-thirty each morning, even though the children slept until seven. That gave her time to have their breakfast ready. It also meant she had a few minutes of silence to gather herself for the long day.
This morning she didn’t intend to change her routine, but a pounding on the front door at six had her leaping from the bed in a panic, afraid there was an emergency. She grabbed her robe and threw it on as she ran for the door.
She gave no thought to her appearance. Something was wrong. She needed to find out what and deal with it. She swung the front door open and came face-to-face with Ryan Walker.
“What’s wrong?” she asked urgently.
“Nothing,” he answered, his voice slightly slurred. “Everything’s all right.”
“Are you drunk?” she asked, staring at him.
“No. Just worn out. I haven’t been to sleep.” He leaned against the doorjamb and Suzanne thought he was going to fall.
“If nothing’s wrong, why are you banging on my door?”
“I said I would.”
Suzanne swept back her long hair and Ryan followed the gesture with his gaze, making Suzanne conscious of her appearance. “Come on in. I’ll get dressed and make us some coffee.”
He stumbled in and she led him to the kitchen. He sat down at the table and she quickly filled the coffeepot. Then she turned to excuse herself to go change and discovered him sound asleep.
“Mercy,” she muttered. According to her neighbors, this man was her savior, the key to her finding men to work the ranch. But she was beginning to think he was crazy. Without waking him, she hurried to her bedroom. Five minutes later, in her usual jeans and shirt, she began making a breakfast that would satisfy any man. Bacon, sausage, biscuits and scrambled eggs.
When she was finished, she dished it all up, with a steaming-hot cup of coffee, and awakened her gentleman caller.
“Mr. Walker, breakfast is ready.”
He raised his head and stared at her blankly.
“Drink some coffee,” she said, nudging the mug closer to him.
He did as she recommended. Then the full plate in front of him inspired him to pick up his fork and eat. He hadn’t had a breakfast like that in a long while. He didn’t speak again until the plate was empty and he was almost out of coffee.
She stood and picked up the coffeepot. He automatically stuck his cup out for it to be filled again.
“Good breakfast.”
“Thank you. I hope it helps you make sense. Why did you come pounding on my door at six o’clock? And is someone staying with Beth?”
He blinked several times. “Hinney is taking care of Beth. She likes him.”
“Good. Okay, now answer my question.”
“I give up.” His simple statement didn’t furnish her a clue, but he appeared to think it explained everything.
“I beg your pardon?”
She got up to refill her own cup, stalling for time to figure out what he meant. “I don’t understand.”
“I said I give up. You win.”
“So you realized what I thought of, too?” she asked, thinking he’d come to the same conclusion as she had. “Thank goodness. Now, I’ll come over every morning at seven and cook the children’s breakfast at once. Then, I’ll have dinner ready for you and Beth when you get in, and the kids and I will come home. It should work well.”
She jumped up to get some paper and a pen. She was a list-maker and this change in her lifestyle definitely called for a list. “I won’t come Saturdays, but you can bring Beth here if you want to for the day. That will give her a change of environment which I think will be good.”
He stared at her blankly. “You look different.”
That was enough of a non sequitur that it stopped Suzanne’s list-making. “What?”
“Where’s your suit?”
“You want me to wear a suit and heels to work as a housekeeper?” She couldn’t agree to such a ridiculous request.
He cocked his head sideways, his blue eyes looking cloudy, as if his eyesight was no clearer than his head seemed to be. “No. No suits.”
He seemed quite clear about that. “Fine, I didn’t want to wear a suit.” She returned to her list now that the suit thing had been settled. “Now, shall we start today? Or do you want to wait until Monday? Either way is fine with me. But we might run a little late today because I don’t have the children’s breakfast fixed.”
“Today? Nope. Wouldn’t be legal.”
Suzanne scratched her forehead. What was he talking about? “Do housekeepers require a license around here? Do I have to take a test? I assure you I can cook and clean. And I’m doing a good job with Josh and Mandy. Beth shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Need a license.”
“Uh, okay, I’ll take care of the license. Why don’t we wait until Monday to start? You go home and get some rest. Okay?” she asked, trying to keep a cheerful smile on her face.
“Okay,” he muttered and pushed himself from the table as if it took all his energy to move. “Good breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
She followed him to the front door, not at all sure he’d make that distance, but he seemed to get his second wind.
“Will you be able to drive?” she asked warily. She didn’t want to drive him home.
“Yeah. Okay.” Then he stumbled over to his truck, got behind the wheel and drove away.
Well, working for him would be strange, if he was like that all the time, but at least she’d found a way to save the kids’ inheritance. That was what counted.
Suzanne heard the children waking and hurried to the kitchen to fix their breakfast. When they’d finished eating, she told them she was going to work as Mr. Walker’s housekeeper and they would go with her each day.
“I suggest you take out your little suitcase, Josh, and pack a spare set of clothes and any of your favorite toys you might want for the day. We’re going to start going there on Monday. I’ll pack a little case for Mandy,” she added, smiling at the little girl.
“Me pack,” Mandy assured her. She was moving into the terrible twos, Suzanne had decided. She wanted to do everything herself.
“Fine, but first, I want you to practice your colors this morning. And Josh is going to practice his numbers. Okay? Go wash up and get everything we need.”
She cleared the dishes while they did their chores. She wondered if Beth had had any practice with her numbers or her letters. She’d have to see once they got started. But she’d have to proceed carefully. She