A Family for the Rugged Rancher Read online

  “What do you mean?” Liz asked, grabbing her purse and taking out a biscuit for the baby to gnaw on. “Luke’s so…”

  Emily struggled for the right word, thinking of how Luke looked at her and seemed to get to the heart of any matter with a few simple words. Liz’s keen gaze was on her now.

  Instantly Emily recalled the kiss and the way he’d cupped her neck confidently in his palm. “Intense.”

  “Luke’s too serious, but I can’t blame him. It’s a wonder he didn’t disown the two of us.” She flashed a smile that hinted at devilry. “Oh, Cait and I gave him awful trouble.”

  “Surely your parents…”

  “Oh, this was after Mom died and Dad had to be put in the care home. Luke was different before that happened. Always running with his guy friends, you know?”

  Care home?

  Luke had said so little about his upbringing. Now the bits and pieces were starting to come together. Luke had said he’d been responsible for his sisters and the farm at an early age. She tried to imagine one parent dying and the other incapacitated. What an ordeal they must have gone through. “How old were you?”

  “Luke was twenty. Cait was almost seventeen and I was fifteen. Old enough to know better, really. But at that age—when you’re a teenager it’s ‘all about me’, you know? We were still in high school.”

  Emily did know. But she also knew that Luke would have put himself last, making sure everyone was looked after ahead of himself. She imagined him waiting up for them at night, perhaps pacing the floor with lines of worry marring his forehead. Had those days put the shadows she saw in his eyes? “And Luke?”

  Liz frowned. “He didn’t tell you any of this?”

  “Not much. Why would he? I’ve only been here a few days, Liz. We haven’t had heart-to-hearts.”

  She smiled, but once the words were out she knew they weren’t exactly true. Maybe not baring of souls, but she’d told him more about her marriage than she’d told anyone. They’d had moments of closeness—up to and including the kiss that had nearly melted her socks. Not that she’d admit that to his sister.

  Liz dipped into her cobbler, holding the spoon in the air. “Well, Luke should be the one to tell you, not me.”

  “Luke isn’t exactly big on social chitchat,” Emily replied, but Liz just laughed.

  “He does tend to be on the serious side. You ask him, Emily. Maybe he’ll talk to you. He never talks to either of us.”

  Maybe Luke was just a private person, Emily thought, but didn’t say. Liz was his sister. She had to know him better than most. And she did feel a little odd, talking about him when he wasn’t here. As curious as she was, Liz was right. This was something Luke should tell her himself. If he ever did.

  “Joe said there’s something going on between you.”

  Emily’s back straightened, pulled out of her thoughts by Liz’s insinuation. The camaraderie she’d begun to feel trickled away as she remembered Luke’s warning. Liz was here to check her out, and the last thing she wanted was to be judged. “You are direct, aren’t you?”

  Liz raised her eyebrows. “Luke’s our brother. We love him. We want him to be happy.”

  “And that’s not with me.” Of course not. Emily was not a brilliant prospect in anyone’s book. She was damaged goods. She didn’t even have a long-term plan.

  Emily went to a cupboard and found a large mixing bowl and began stemming the first box of berries. She didn’t like that she’d been the topic of conversation around the family water cooler.

  “I didn’t say that, you did.”

  The berries flew from one hand to the other and pinged into the stainless-steel bowl as Emily removed the stems. “I’m a single mother with a very small income.”

  “Money isn’t what Luke needs.” Liz’s voice held a tinge of condemnation. “After what Joe said, I thought maybe you realized that. I guess I was wrong.”

  Emily’s hands fell still. She had always considered that the outside world saw only the surface. That people looked at her and automatically categorized her in little columns of pluses and minuses. Lately she was pretty sure there were more minuses than pluses. Now she wondered if that was simply her own insecurity talking. “What does Luke need?” she asked quietly, picking up another berry but plucking off the stem at a more relaxed pace.

  Liz brought another box to the side of the sink. “A companion.”

  Emily dropped the berry in the bowl. Luke was barely thirty. He didn’t need a companion. He needed a wife and partner, and she wasn’t up for applying for either position. “Then he should get a dog.”

  Liz laughed at her dry tone. “Fine, then. He needs a helping hand. Someone willing to share the load. He’s been carrying it by himself for a long time. Not that he’s ever complained. Someone should shake him up a bit. Why not you?”

  A helpmate. Emily knew that was what Luke’s sister was getting at and it made her pause. That’s what she’d tried to be for Rob and it had blown up in her face. “I’m not interested in that,” she informed Liz. “Nothing against your brother. He’s very nice. But I’m not looking for a boyfriend or husband. I rely on myself now, not someone else.”

  Liz looked at her speculatively. “No one said you didn’t.”

  But Emily knew that’s what it would mean. She had built her whole existence around someone else. Rearranging her life around Rob’s schooling and then his job. Staying home with Sam. Looking after everyone’s needs and sacrificing her own. It had little to do with the type of work, she realized, but with the principle behind it. How long had she been Rob’s wife, Sam’s mother? How long had it been since she’d been plain Emily Northcott, woman?

  “Liz, I appreciate that you want your brother to be happy. But surely you can see how ridiculous it is to be discussing this. There are no romantic notions. I work for him.”

  “If you say so,” Liz replied, but Emily knew by her deliberately casual tone that she wasn’t convinced. And why should she be? It wasn’t exactly true. Emily thought about Luke far too often throughout the day and then there was the kiss. She ran her tongue over her lips, remembering the taste of him there. Knowing it wasn’t what she wanted and yet dying to know if he would do it again.

  “Either way, can we be friends?” Liz’s sandy-colored ponytail bobbed as she reached beneath the cupboard for a colander to wash the berries, completely oblivious to Emily’s quandary.

  Friends? The request came as a surprise after being grilled about Luke. But an offer of friendship was hard to resist. She’d felt so disconnected in recent months. All of her friends were ‘before divorce’ friends. There’d been no money or time for cultivating new relationships since. Liz was only looking out for her family. Emily could hardly fault her for that. If she didn’t feel so uncomfortable, she might have admired her for it.

  Liz reached for the teakettle and filled it with water. “Come on, Emily,” she invited. “Let’s have a cup of tea and a gab. The kids are playing and Luke’s going to be gone for hours. With the little ones underfoot I don’t get out much either. What’s the harm?”

  What was the harm, indeed? Emily couldn’t hold out against the temptation of a social afternoon. She got out the teabags and put them on the counter. “He told me you’d bulldoze me, you know.” But she smiled when she said it, holding no malice against Luke’s vivacious sister. She would have done the same thing for her brother or sister, if she’d had one.

  “Of course he did.”

  Emily lifted a finger in warning. “But leave off the matchmaking, okay? Luke’s no more interested in me than…”

  She had been going to say than I am in him, but she couldn’t say the words because she was interested in him, more than she would ever admit.

  “Matchmaking? Perish the thought.” Liz affected an innocent look so perfectly that Emily found herself grinning back. “Listen,” Liz continued, getting out spoons. “Luke has always said he will never get married anyway. So nothing to worry about, right?”

  “I’
d like to make some jam out of these berries,” Emily said to Liz, offering an olive branch as the kettle began to whistle, trying to ignore Liz’s latest bombshell. Never get married? She forced her mind back to the present. “Where’s the best place to shop for jars and pectin?”

  For the next hour the baby napped, the kids played in the sunshine and Liz and Emily stemmed the remaining berries, chatting easily about lighter topics. But the whole time Emily thought of Luke and his past. She couldn’t help wondering why he was determined to be alone. Had he had his heart broken? Was it any of her business to ask? If she did, would he answer? She couldn’t help the sneaky suspicion that Liz’s throwaway comment had been intended to do just that—make her wonder.

  The farmyard was dark except for the light Emily saw coming from the machine shed. It was past ten o’clock and still Luke hadn’t come in. He hadn’t had any supper, either. She’d waited for him long after Sam had gone to bed, finishing up the last batch of jam and leaving it to set on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t forget all that Liz had told her during their chat—and what she hadn’t.

  She carried a warm plate in her hands as she crossed the gravel drive. The man had to eat something. If he wouldn’t come in, she’d take it to him.

  She balanced the plate on one hand and opened the door to the shed. All that was visible of Luke as she entered was his legs. The rest of him was underneath her car. A long yellow cord disappeared along with the upper half of his body—a trouble light illuminating the dirty job of changing her oil. Clanking sounds echoed on the concrete floor as he put down the filter wrench and oil began draining into the catch pan. “Luke?”

  At the sound of her voice he slid out from beneath her car, the sound of the creeper wheels grating loudly in the stillness. The rest of his legs appeared, then came his flat stomach, his broad chest and muscled arms and then his head—now devoid of hat, his hair dark with sweat in the oppressive heat of the shop. Her gaze fixed on his arms as he pushed himself up to sitting.

  Emily felt a bead of perspiration form on her temple in the close atmosphere of the shop. Throughout the afternoon the heat had increased until the kids had dropped, sapped of their energy. It hadn’t let up after sundown. Even the peepers were quiet tonight, and when the creeper came to a halt, the silence in the shop was deafening.

  “What are you doing with my car?”

  “Changing your oil. It looked like it’d been a while.”

  It had, but that wasn’t exactly the point. “I…you…” She didn’t quite know what to say that didn’t sound grouchy and angry. Especially since she was both of those things. Part of it was the heat. But a bigger part was that he’d taken it upon himself to do this without even consulting her.

  “You might have asked me first.”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s just an oil change, Emily.”

  Pride kicked in. “And the cost of the filter, and the cost of the oil.”

  “If it means that much to you, I’ll deduct it from your pay.”

  Her hand shook beneath the warm dinner plate. She didn’t want to lose any of her precious paycheck right now. And if she were to lose any of it, she should be the one to say where it went.

  “That really wasn’t on my list of things to do with my first check, Luke.” She was trying—and failing—to keep a quiver out of her voice. “It’s been a long time since I had my own pay. I’d like to be the one to decide what happens to it. And besides, it’s after ten o’clock. You’ve already spent the day outside while I was inside with Liz….”

  Suddenly the lightbulb came on. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re avoiding me because you think Liz put a bug in my ear.”

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. “What’s on the plate?”

  “I’m right!” Victorious, she let out a breath. “You can’t stay out here all night, you know. And you can’t avoid me forever. For what it’s worth, Liz barely told me anything. You could have saved yourself the trouble.”

  Luke put on his most nonchalant expression. “Your oil needed changing and I wanted to do it for you. Now, are you going to share that plate or did you just bring it out here to torture me?”

  He got to his feet, looking sexier than a man had a right to in dusty jeans, work boots and a grease-stained T-shirt, and she had the thought that he could change her oil or tune up her car any time.

  She held out the plate. “You should have come in for supper—you’ve got to be exhausted. The car could have waited. I know you want to get the hay in.” She tried a smile. “You have to make hay while the sun shines, I’ve heard.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “With this heat—we need to get it baled before the rain comes tomorrow. I’m guessing thunderstorms. And there is always the chance of hail.”

  “Then take a rest.”

  He reached for a rag and wiped his hands before taking the plate. His fingers were long and rough, with a half-healed scratch running the length of one. He made a living with his hands and hard work. There was something earthy about that and she found it incredibly attractive.

  “Lasagna. And garlic bread.” He stared at the contents of the plate with undisguised pleasure. “My God, that smells awesome. Do you know how long it’s been since I had lasagna?”

  “That’s a good thing, then?”

  He went to a wheeled stool and sat down. “Oh, yeah, it’s a good thing.” The shop began to fill with the scent of spicy tomatoes and beef. “Pull up a pew, Emily.”

  There was little space to sit, so she perched on the edge of a homemade sawhorse. Luke cut into his lasagna with the side of his fork, took a bite, and closed his eyes. Emily smiled, pleased she’d made the extra effort. Luke was turning out to be a pleasure to cook for. “It was better, fresh,” she apologized.

  “You say that, but I doubt it,” he remarked, biting into the garlic bread, flakes off the crust fluttering down to the plate. “It’s perfect just the way it is. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. You didn’t bring any water, did you?”

  “Oh! How could I have forgotten?” She reached into the pocket of her light sweater and produced a bottle of beer, so cold it was already sweating with condensation. “I thought you’d appreciate a cold one.”

  He stared at her as if she were a gift from the gods. “What?” she asked, smiling. “You’re not difficult to read, Luke.”

  Well, not about food, she amended mentally. In other ways he was a definite puzzle. Emily considered for a moment that perhaps Liz’s perspective on what happened and Luke’s could be very different. Not that Liz had it easy. Losing a parent had to be devastating. But having to step into that role as Luke had…

  Luke popped the top and took a long drink. “That is exactly what I needed.” He sighed, swiping the final slice of bread along the plate to get the last of the tomato sauce. “Thanks for bringing it out. You didn’t need to do that.”

  “It was kind of quiet in the house.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it gets that way.”

  Emily looked down, studying her toes. Had Luke been lonely? Up until now she really hadn’t thought about him living in the house all alone, but now she wondered how it must be to come home to it every day, with no one there to talk to or share the silence with. At least she had Sam.

  She picked a wrench up off the tool bench and toyed with it, putting it down and picking up another. When she looked up at Luke she could tell he was gritting his teeth. He came forward and took the wrenches, placing them back on the pegboard. The whole bench was precisely arranged and Emily wondered where he inherited his penchant for neatness from. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “It’s all right.” His voice sounded oddly strained. “I try to keep things organized so…so I can always find the size I need.”

  “Tools on pegboard and everything on lists.” She had noticed Luke had a list for everything at the house. Phone numbers. Groceries. To-do tasks. She often did the same thing, but she thought it an unusual trait in a man. “You really are quite neat and tidy, Luke. For a guy.” She a
ttempted to lighten the strange tension that had come over the room.

  “I’m a one-man show. Keeping organized saves me a lot of time,” he explained. He finished putting the tools away reached for his beer, toying now with the bottle as he sipped. “You survived Liz’s visit?”

  “We had tea and stemmed strawberries.”

  “And talked about me.”

  Emily felt a flush creep into her cheeks. “My, don’t we have an inflated opinion of ourselves.”

  He laughed, the sound filling the quiet shed and sending a tingle right through to her toes. Laughter had been another one of those things that had been missing for a long time. Something that slipped away so innocuously that she hadn’t realized she’d missed it until hearing it again.

  “Liz was sticking her nose in. If Cait didn’t have a newborn at home, she would have been here, too. Be thankful they didn’t tag-team you. You wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

  Emily stared at him. He was smiling as though it was a big joke. “So it’s funny that I was put under the microscope today?”

  He lowered the bottle slowly. “I forgot. You don’t have brothers and sisters. It’s what they do. We’re born to aggravate each other. I guess I’m just used to it.”

  “Well she wasn’t aggravating you today, was she?” Emily’s back straightened. Granted, she’d had a nice visit with his sister, but Luke didn’t know that. For all he knew he’d thrown Emily to the wolves and he was relaxed as could be, smiling like a fool.

  His smile slid from his lips though when she fired that question at him. “What exactly did Liz say to you, Emily?”

  “Worried?” She asked it in an offhand manner, but the smile from earlier was gone. “She didn’t say much. She mentioned you looking after her and Cait and how they’d been holy terrors. But really, that was all.”

  Luke seemed to relax, turning the bottle in his fingers. “And she said I should ask you about the rest.”

  The bottle stopped turning.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your dad, Luke?”