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