He stopped and stared at her for a moment, long enough that she began to feel uncomfortable and her spoon moved even faster through the milky batter.
“I didn’t think you’d be up yet.”
“I heard you leave a while ago. I wanted to get an early start.” She dropped a little butter in the pan and ladled a perfectly round pancake in the middle of it. “You’re just in time for the first pancakes.” She was glad he was here. Now he’d get them fresh and hot from the pan, better proof of her cooking abilities than the reheated dinner of last evening. She wasn’t opposed to hard work, and it felt good having a purpose, something to do. It was just a taste of how it would feel when she got a permanent job and could provide for herself and for Sam.
“Lately I’ve been grabbing a bowl of cereal. Pancakes are a treat. Thank you, Emily.”
His polite words nearly made her blush as she remembered how she’d taken him to task for his manners at their last meal. She focused on turning the pancake, the top perfectly golden brown. “I’m glad you get to enjoy them fresh, rather than warmed up, like last night’s supper.” She flipped the pancake onto a plate and began frying another. “Besides, when you sleep in you miss the best part of the day, I think.”
She wanted to ask him if this was his regular breakfast time but held back, not wanting to harp on a dead topic. Still, she felt as if she should already know, which was ridiculous. How could she possibly know his routine, his preferences?
Everything about Luke Evans was throwing her off balance and she was having to think and double-think every time she wanted to ask him something, measure her words, trying hard to say the right thing and not the first thing that came to her mind.
“What time do you want lunch?”
“I’m used to just grabbing a sandwich when I come in.”
She put down the spatula. “A sandwich? But a working man can’t live on a sandwich for lunch!”
He laughed then, a real laugh aimed at her open-mouthed look of dismay, she realized. She picked up the spatula again, trying to ignore the light that kindled in his eyes as he laughed. When Luke was grumpy, she wished he were nicer. But when he was nice, something inside her responded and she wished for his sterner side again. She didn’t want to have those sorts of reactions. She wasn’t interested in romance or flirting. She didn’t know how, not after so many years with one man. She was never going to put herself in a position to be hurt like that again either. She deserved more. So did Sam.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“You sound like my sisters. They both fuss and flutter. I haven’t starved yet, though.”
The awkwardness had seemed to fade away between them, but what arose in its place was a different kind of tension. It made her want to hold her breath or glance over and see if he was watching her. She couldn’t help it—she did, and he was. His blue gaze was penetrating, and she had the simultaneous thoughts that his eyes were too beautiful for a man and that she wished he still wore his hat so they would be at least a bit shadowed.
She handed him the plate of pancakes, taking care to make sure their fingers never touched. “Fresh from the pan.”
“They smell delicious. And about lunch. I try to come in around noon, when the boys take their break. Sometimes when I’m haying I take my lunch with me though. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Emily bit her lip and turned back to her pancakes, feeling a warmth spread through her. His tone at the end had held a little hint of teasing, no malice in it at all. She could nearly hear the echo of Rob’s angry voice in her head, telling her to stop nagging. She had told herself his leaving had been out of the blue, but things hadn’t been right for a while before he left. He had complained about her always trying to tie him down to a schedule. She hadn’t. But she’d taken pride in her “job”. She loved it when they all sat down together. It had been a bone of contention between them that they didn’t eat dinner as a family. Since he’d left she’d made it a point to sit with Sam over dinner and talk about their favorite parts of the day.
But Luke wasn’t her family, he was her boss. “It’s your house,” she said quietly. “I overstepped last night. Whenever you want your meals, I’ll make sure they’re on the table. That is what you pay me for, right?”
“Are you okay? “
“Fine. Why?”
“You got all … meek all of a sudden. If you want something, Emily, just ask. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.”
She swallowed. Had she become so used to tiptoeing around Rob that she’d forgotten how good honesty and straight-talking felt? She took a breath. “Okay. It would be helpful if I knew what time you’d like your meals so I can plan around them.”
His chair scraped against the floor as he rose, came forward and reached around her for the maple syrup. His body was close—too close. When she sucked in a breath, she smelled the clean scent of his soap mixed with a hint of leather and horses. Oh, my. Heat crept into her cheeks.
“Was that so hard?” he asked.
Her brain scrambled to remember what they’d been talking about. Oh, yes. The timing of meals. “Um ….no?”
He retrieved the syrup and moved away while Emily wilted against the counter.
“I’ll try to let you know when I plan to be in,” he said, pouring syrup over his pancakes. “You were right, so don’t apologize. It’s just business courtesy, that’s all.” Luke dismissed it with a wave and picked up his fork.
Just business. He was right, and Emily felt chagrined at her earlier behavior. She was far too aware of him and he was her boss. Why shouldn’t she simply ask questions? She would of any other employer.
“I have to run into town this morning to pick up a part for the baler. I’ll make a stop at the hospital, too, I guess. Cait and Joe had a baby girl last night. Anyway, if there’s anything you need, I can get it while I’m there.”
A baby! He said it as blandly as he might have said Rain is forecast for today, and it left Emily confused. What was she missing? She remembered the first moments of holding Sam in her arms after his birth, and despite Luke’s tepid response she knew his sister and brother-in-law had to be over the moon. As brother and uncle, he should be, too. “A girl! Lovely! They must be so happy.”
Luke went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, then took down another and held it out, asking her if she wanted some. She nodded, wondering why he wasn’t excited about the baby. After his reaction to Sam yesterday, she was beginning to think her assessment that he didn’t like children was dead-on. “Is everyone healthy?” she asked, hoping there were no complications.
“Oh, yes.” He gave a shrug. “Another girl. That’s four nieces.”
“Do you have something against girls?”
The cup halted halfway to his mouth. “What? Oh, of course not. We just keep hoping for a boy. To keep the Evans and Son going, you know?”
Emily watched him as he got out juice glasses—three of them—pouring orange juice in two and leaving the third one empty but waiting. He had remembered Sam, then. At times last night and this morning it had seemed as though Luke forgot Sam was even there.
“This is the twenty-first century, Luke.” She smiled at him, poured another pancake. “A girl could take over the farm as well as a boy, you know. Evans and Niece might not have the same ring to it, but I didn’t have you pegged for one worrying about an heir to the empire. Besides, you might still have some big, strapping prairie boys of your own.” She added the pancake to the stack on the warmer with a smile. But her teasing had backfired. He stared at her now with an expression that seemed partly hurt and partly angry.
“I don’t plan on having a family,” he replied, then dropped his gaze, focusing on cutting his pancakes, his knife scraping along the porcelain. Emily stared