The elder Ross squinted at her. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes, very well.”
“And the baby?” Georgia asked. “Did she keep you awake?”
“No. She slept, too.”
Her employer looked surprised, but said nothing.
“Is she up yet?” Bram asked.
“Yes.” She inclined her head toward the kitchen. “She’s in there.”
“She sure is quiet,” he said.
“She’s a good baby,” Emma said mildly.
“So she hasn’t scared you off yet?” Jake’s voice was flat.
“No, not at all.” The way everyone’s gazes went to him then immediately skipped away had her wondering again if he disliked the baby. “I was going to make flapjacks, but wasn’t sure how many.”
“None for me.” Bram grinned, reaching for the platter of biscuits and bacon. “I’ve got all the food I need right here.”
“What he’s got is plenty for everyone, Miz York,” Ike said dryly.
Jake said nothing.
She smiled. “All right, then.”
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Georgia patted the empty place next to her.
The invitation took Emma by surprise. If circumstances had been different, she would’ve liked getting to know them, making friends, but leaving was going to be hard enough when the time came. She should do her job and keep to herself. “Thank you, but I’ve eaten.”
“I’ll share the biscuits with you,” Bram cajoled with a charming grin that revealed a deep set of dimples.
Aware of the sharp look Jake threw him, she turned for the kitchen. Mr. Ross obviously didn’t like his family being friendly with the help, which was fine with Emma. “If you’re sure you don’t want the flapjacks, I’ll start cleaning the dishes and I’ll bring more coffee.”
“But—” Bram began.
She fetched the coffee then returned, using the skirt of her apron to hold the hot handle. After pouring a cup for the elder Ross, she moved to Jake.
He passed her his cup and when she returned it to him, their fingers brushed. She pulled away quickly.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Her gaze caught on his and she felt heat creep into her cheeks. She stepped behind Ike to go to Bram, wishing she weren’t so aware of the way Jake’s pale gray shirt molded shoulders that were as wide as the door. Of his dark hair and black eyes. He was handsome in a rugged, rough way that made a woman think he could protect her. Well, Emma knew better than to trust such sentiments.
As she moved around the table to Georgia, he didn’t look at her. And yet she felt his attention on her. Weighing, considering. Her guard immediately went up. She wished she could disappear.
As she stepped into the kitchen, she surreptitiously cast one more glance over her shoulder and her gaze crashed into his.
Their new housekeeper acted nervous, Jake thought. Because of him? He didn’t mean to make her nervous, but, well, he couldn’t stop looking at her.
Bram looked at Jake. “She acted worried that we wouldn’t like her cooking.”
“I think she was.”
“She’s every bit as good a cook as Louisa. Don’t scare her off.”
Jake glared at his brother and shoved a biscuit in his mouth. Something about Emma York compelled his attention and it wasn’t that she was taking care of that kid. He’d woken several times last night thinking about her. Not hot, sweaty-type thoughts, but curious, bothered-type thoughts.
He’d decided that was on account of all the alcohol working its way out of his system. He drank to forget and she was a much more pleasant image to contemplate than the reason he’d been drinking. Quentin. Thoughts of his brother-in-law—former brother-in-law—made Jake angry and uncomfortable and chute crazy. The quicker he finished breakfast, the sooner he could get some space.
Under the table, something grabbed the left leg of his jeans, startling him out of his thoughts. He registered a tiny hand just in time to stop himself from shoving his chair back. Knowing what he would find and knowing it was inevitable that he would sometimes have to be around her, he bent and looked under the table.
The baby stared back at him with big gray-green eyes. She grinned, revealing two teeth. Clutching his knee, she pulled herself to her feet.
Dammit.
“What is it? The baby?” Bram ducked his head to get a look.
Jake wanted out of this chair right now, but, if he rose, the baby would fall. She took a lurching step forward into the vee between his legs and latched on to him to keep her balance. One chubby little hand hit his thigh, the other one his man parts.
He didn’t want to hold her, but he didn’t want her looking at him with those big eyes, either. Easing his chair back, he sent a pleading look to his brother, who was occupied with scraping his plate clean.
Jake picked her up, holding her stiffly out in front of him. He had every intention of handing her off to Georgia or his uncle when Molly grabbed his face between her hands and jabbered something. Her sweet baby scent drifted around him, pricking at memories he kept ruthlessly tucked away.
Sheer reflex had him surging to his feet and thrusting her toward Ike. Before the older man could take her, Miz York eased the baby out of his hold.
“I’m sorry.” She sent Jake an apologetic look. “I didn’t know she’d gotten away from me.”
Heat searing his nerves, he stepped behind his chair, putting some distance between them. The knowing look in his uncle’s eyes had him dragging a hand across his nape.
Puzzlement slid across the nurse’s fine-boned features.
“We don’t know much about babies—” Bram stood, drawing her attention “—but we like ’em.”
Her uncertain gaze darted to Jake then fixed on his brother. “I’ll try to keep her out of your way.”
“She’s not in our way,” Ike said jovially as he rose from his chair. “We like having her around.”
Jake caught the flash of skepticism on Emma York’s face and knew he should try to reassure her, but he couldn’t do it. Her light soap scent joined with the baby’s and he felt as if his chest were being crushed.
“We didn’t hire you so you’d keep her away from us,” Ike said. “We just need some help taking care of her.”
Jake wanted to say he had definitely hired Miz York to keep the baby away from him. That he was the one who made the final decisions around here, but he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to be responsible for that baby. Fine with him if Uncle Ike wanted to raise the orphan the same way he’d raised his nephews. That didn’t mean Jake had to.
“It’s just that some of us are better with little ones than others of us are,” Bram explained.
Miz York nodded, her face pale as she cuddled the baby.
“That was an excellent breakfast, Miz York.” Georgia folded her napkin and set it beside her plate.
“Yes. If we don’t watch it,” her father said, “you’ll have us all fatter than peach-orchard boars in no time.”
Her lips curved in the closest thing to a real smile that Jake had seen since she’d arrived. “Thank you.”
The way her face lit up put a strange tightness in Jake’s chest. But, when her gaze shifted to him, her