And getting close—to anyone—was not an option. Not for him.
He was already in over his head. The fields and barns were the place for him, and he would let Emily Northcott sort out her own family. She could just get on with doing her job.
He had enough to handle with his own.
CHAPTER THREE
THE REST OF the day passed in a blur. Emily began her cleaning upstairs in the rooms that she and Sam would occupy. Sam helped as best as a five-year-old boy could, helping change the sheets, dusting and Emily put him to work putting his clothes in the empty dresser while she moved on to her room. It was late afternoon when she was done and continued on to the kitchen, putting the dry dishes away before tackling the new dirty ones and searching the freezer for something to make for supper. The baked pork chops, rice and vegetables were ready for six o’clock; she held the meal until six-thirty and finally ate with Sam while Luke remained conspicuously absent. It wasn’t until she and Sam were picking at the blueberry cobbler she’d baked for dessert that Luke returned.
He took one look at the dirty supper dishes and his face hardened.
Emily clenched her teeth. What did he expect? They couldn’t wait all night, and she’d held it as long as was prudent. As it was, the vegetables had been a little mushy and the cream of mushroom sauce on the chops had baked down too far.
“We didn’t know how long you’d be,” she said quietly, getting up to move the dirty dishes and to fix Luke a plate. “We decided to go ahead.”
“You didn’t need to wait for me at all.” He went to the sink to wash his hands.
Emily bit the inside of her lip. Granted, dinnertime with the surly Luke Evans wasn’t all that appealing, but it seemed rude to discount having a civil meal together at all. Still she was new here and the last thing she wanted was to get off on the wrong foot. She picked up a clean plate, filled it with food and popped it into the microwave. In her peripheral vision she could see Sam picking at his cobbler, staring into his bowl. He could sense the tension, and it made Emily even more annoyed. He’d had enough of that when things had got bad between her and Rob. The last thing she wanted was to have him in a less-than-friendly situation again.
“Eating together is a civil thing to do,” she replied as the microwave beeped. “Plus the food is best when it’s fresh and hot.”
“You don’t need to go to any bother,” he replied, taking the plate and sitting down at the table. Sam’s gaze darted up and then down again. Was he not even going to acknowledge her son?
Perhaps what Luke Evans needed was a refresher course in manners and common courtesy.
She resumed her seat, picked up her fork and calmly said, “I wasn’t planning on running a short-order kitchen.”
“I didn’t realize I was nailed down to a specific dinner time. I am running a farm here, you know.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and he held his spoon with a purple puddle of blueberries halfway between the bowl and his mouth. Emily spared him a glance and let out a slow breath.
“Of course you are, and I did hold the meal for over half an hour. Maybe we should have simply communicated it better. Set a basic time and if you’re going to be later, you can let me know.”
“I’m not used to a schedule.”
Emily looked at Sam and smiled. “You’re excused, Sam. Why don’t you go upstairs and put on your pajamas?”
Obediently Sam pushed out his chair and headed for the stairs.
Luke paused in his eating. “He listens to you well.”
Now that Sam was gone Emily wasn’t feeling so generous. “He has been taught some manners,” she replied, the earlier softness gone from her voice. “Eating together is the civilized thing to do. Respecting that I may have gone to the trouble to cook a nice meal would go a long way. And acknowledging my son when you sit at the table would be polite, rather than acting as though he doesn’t exist.”
Luke’s fork hit his plate. “I hired you to be a housekeeper, not Miss Manners.”
“I’m big on courtesy and respect, Mr. Evans. No matter who or what the age. If you don’t want to eat with us, say so now. I’ll plan for Sam and I to eat by ourselves and you can reheat your meal whenever it suits you. But I’d prefer if we settled it now so we don’t have any more confusion.”
For several seconds the dining room was quiet, and then Luke replied, “As long as you understand there may be times when I’m in the middle of something, I will make every attempt to observe a regular dinner hour.”
“I appreciate it.”
“And I didn’t mean to ignore your son.”
“He has feelings, too, Mr. Evans. And since his father left, it is easy for him to feel slighted.”
Luke picked at the mound of rice on his plate. “I didn’t think of that.”
“You don’t know us yet,” Emily responded, feeling her annoyance drain away. Luke looked suitably chastised, and she couldn’t help the smile that she tried to hide. She’d seen that look on Sam’s face on occasion, and it melted her anger.
“Look, I put in an effort for our first dinner here. I might have gotten a bit annoyed that you weren’t here to eat it.”
Luke lifted his head and met her eyes. Her heart did a weird thump, twisting and then settling down to a slightly faster rhythm, it seemed.
“I have lived alone a long time,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. You might need to be patient with me.”
“Maybe we all need to be patient,” she replied, and he smiled at her. A genuine smile, not the tense tight one from this afternoon. The twist in her heart went for another leap again and she swallowed.
“There’s cobbler,” she said, a peace offering.
“Thank you, Emily,” he answered.
She went to the kitchen to get it, hearing the way he said her name echoing around in her brain. She’d fought her battle and won. So why did she feel as if she was in a lot of trouble?
After the supper mess was cleaned up, Luke went out to the barns and Emily put Sam to bed, following him in short order. She was exhausted. She vaguely heard the phone ringing once, but Luke answered it and the sound of the peepers and the breeze through the window lulled her back to sleep.
But the early night meant early to rise, and Emily heard Luke get up as the first pale streaks of sunlight filtered through the curtains. The floorboards creaked by the stairs and she checked her watch … did people really get up this early? She crept out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, looking in on Sam.
He looked so much younger—more innocent, if that were possible—in slumber. He wasn’t a baby any longer, but it didn’t change the tender feeling that rushed through her looking at his dark eyelashes and curls. He was so good, so loving. So trusting. She didn’t want what had happened with his father to change that about him. It was up to her to make sure he had a good life. A happy life. She was determined. He would never doubt how much she loved him. He would always know that she would be there for him.
Back in her room, she slid into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, moving as quietly as possible. She wanted to get an early start. Make a decent breakfast and get a load of laundry going so she could hang it out on the clothesline. The very idea was exciting, and she laughed a little at herself. Who knew something as simple as fresh-smelling clothes off the line would give her such pleasure? Despite Luke’s reticence, despite getting off on the wrong foot last night at dinner, she was more convinced than ever that she’d done the right thing. She’d taken him on and he hadn’t given her the boot. She’d be the best housekeeper Luke Evans ever had. And when she got her feet beneath her, it would be time to start thinking about the future.
She