He took a step forward, and his gaze dropped to her full, lush lips. He was standing in the moonlight with a beautiful woman and all he could do was talk about gardens and chores. Had it been that long since he’d dated that he had lost all concept of conversation? The moment stretched out and he leaned forward, just a bit until the floral scent he now recognized as hers filled his nostrils.
He reached out and took her fingers in his hand and felt them tremble.
This was ridiculous. She’d just got through telling him about her disintegrated marriage and he was contemplating coming on to her? He straightened, took a step back.
“It’s been a long day,” she whispered, pulling her fingers away and tucking them into her pockets. He heard the nervous quaver in her voice and knew she understood exactly what direction his thoughts had taken.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
She went inside, closing the door quietly behind her, but for several minutes Luke sat on the porch, thinking.
How could a man just walk out on his family that way? Leave his responsibilities behind? A real man did what needed to be done. His dad had instilled that in him from the time he was younger than Sam. But just because Northcott had left his wife and kid didn’t mean they were suddenly Luke’s responsibility. For the last decade, he’d had the ranch to worry about, and his sisters until they’d made their way on their own. Now it was the ranch and his father’s failing health. It was more than enough. He didn’t need to take on any wounded strays.
He just had to remember to shut down any more thoughts of kissing her. Uncomplicated. That was exactly how this was going to stay. And after she was gone, he’d manage on his own once more.
Just like he always did.
CHAPTER FIVE
EMILY CALLED HER parents first thing after breakfast, once Luke was out of the house and she’d sent Sam upstairs to get dressed. She kept the call brief, merely letting them know of the change of situation and a number where they could contact her.
Then she hung up, feeling like a big fat coward. Her parents had no idea how tight things had become financially, and she didn’t want them to either. She knew her dad would insist on helping, something they could not afford now that he was retired. Maybe Luke was right. Maybe she did have too much pride. But there was satisfaction in knowing she was doing it herself. And refusing help also meant she was one-hundred-percent free to make her own choices. She liked that.
She liked being at the Evans ranch, too. She had a purpose, something that had seemed to be missing for too long. She hung out a load of laundry, smelling the lilacs on the air as she pinned the clothes on the line. Sam handed her the clothespins, his dark hair shining in the morning sunlight. “I like it here,” she said easily, taking another of Luke’s T-shirts and hanging it by the hem. “What about you, Sam?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s quiet. And I haven’t been able to see much.”
“Maybe this afternoon we can take a walk. Search out some wildflowers and birds’ nests.” Emily felt a catch in her heart, wishing for a moment that he had a brother or sister to keep him company. “I can ask around about some day camps, too, if you like.”
“I like the horses,” Sam replied, handing her another clothespin. “Do you think I’ll be able to ride one?”
Emily frowned. Sam was five and a full-grown horse was so … huge. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Luke has quarter horses, and he’s very busy.”
Sam looked disappointed. “Don’t worry,” she added, ruffling his hair. “Once we get settled it’ll all come around all right. Promise.”
Sam went off to color in an activity book while Emily fussed around the kitchen, taking a tray of chicken breasts out to thaw for supper. Their conversation had made her think. Keeping Sam busy might be harder than she’d thought. She’d have to think of ways to keep him entertained. She looked at the chicken and then around at the kitchen. Luke had thanked her for the meal last night but it was clear to her that he appreciated plain cooking. Why not keep Sam occupied today by baking? He loved helping her at home. An apple cake, perhaps. And cookies. Sam loved rolling cookies.
With the house tidied and the laundry under control, Emily liked the thought of spending the day in the kitchen, mixing ingredients. She hummed a little as she got out a mixing bowl and began setting out what she’d need. She imagined Luke coming in to rich spicy smells and the smile that would turn his lips up just a bit at the edges.
Her hand stilled on a bag of sugar. Why should it matter if he smiled at her or not? Her stomach did a flutter as she remembered the way his hands had squeezed her fingers last night. He was being nice, that was all. Maybe that was it. He didn’t come across as a typically nice person, so last night’s chat in the dark had thrown her off balance.
She knew the recipes by heart and when Sam came back downstairs, they began mixing, rolling and baking. The apple cake, with its topping of brown sugar and cinnamon was cooling on the stovetop and Sam took a fork and pressed on the peanut butter cookies in a crisscross pattern. She’d just sat Sam up to the table with a few warm cookies and a glass of milk when the screen door slammed. Emily pressed a hand to her belly, brushing the flour off the white-and-blue apron she’d found in a drawer. Luke was back already? And the kitchen was still a mess, with dirty dishes and flour dusting the counter surfaces!
“Luke, you here?”
The voice was male but it definitely wasn’t Luke’s. Emily bit down on her lip as Sam paused mid-drink and looked at her.
“Wait here,” she instructed Sam, and took a breath. Whoever was there was comfortable enough to come into the house without knocking.
“Hello?” She stepped through the swinging door of the kitchen and moved towards the foyer, where she could hear footsteps. “Can I help you?”
A tower of a man came around the corner. He topped Luke by a good three inches, and Luke had to be close to six feet. Instead of Luke’s uniform of jeans and T-shirts, this man wore dress trousers and a shirt and tie, and he carried a box cradled under one arm. Short-cropped walnut-brown hair and warm brown eyes assessed her. “You must be the new housekeeper,” he said, but he smiled, making the to-the-point introduction friendly rather than brusque. “I’m Joe. Luke’s brother-in-law.”
This was Cait’s husband, Emily remembered. The one who worked at the equipment dealership. “The new dad,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Congratulations. I’m Emily Northcott.”
His dark eyes were warm and friendly as he took her hand. “My wife is very glad you’re here at last. She was worried about her big brother managing everything.” He inclined his chin for a moment. “It smells good in here.”
She withdrew her hand from his, feeling unease center in her belly. When she’d met Luke and shaken his hand, there’d been a queer fluttering and the heat of his skin against hers. With Joe there was none of that. It shouldn’t have been different. Luke wasn’t any different. He was just a guy.
If that were true, why had she felt the curl of anticipation when the screen door had slammed?
Now his brother-in-law was here and she was feeling that she should play host. “There’s coffee and warm cookies, if you’d like some,” she invited.
“I wouldn’t say no.” He put the box on the floor by the door. “Cait in the hospital means cooking for myself right now. If you think Luke’s bad in the kitchen … I think I can burn water. Cait got her mother’s cooking skills, thank God.”
Joe followed her into the kitchen and stopped at the sight of Sam at the table. “Your son?” he asked.
“Yes, this is Sam. Sam, this is Mr. Evans’s brother-in-law, Joe.”
“You’re