Oh, goodness, they were back to that again. She brushed her hands on her pants and inhaled, trying to appear poised. How could she explain that she’d actually enjoyed cleaning the homey farmhouse? That she’d felt more at home cooking a simple meal than she’d felt in a long time? Cooking anything elaborate for her and Sam seemed pointless, and she’d missed it.
“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll plan something that keeps well, then. If you don’t mind Sam and I going ahead.”
“Of course not. Emily…” he paused and she gave in to temptation and looked up at him. He could look so serious, but something about his somber expression spoke to her. There was more to Luke than was on the surface. She was sure of it.
Their gazes clung for several seconds before he cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is, it is just great to have supper on the table when I come in and something better than a sandwich. It’s a real nice thing to look forward to.”
It was as heartfelt a comment as she’d guess Luke could come up with, and she took it to heart. She couldn’t find the words to tell him that though, so she simply said, “Sam doesn’t have such discerning taste. It was nice to have a reason to put together a real meal.”
His gaze plumbed hers. “There was a reason I advertised for a housekeeper. The place looks great. And dinner was really good, Emily. I probably should have said so before.”
She’d been slightly put out that he’d barely acknowledged her efforts earlier, but the compliment still did its work, even though it was delayed. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Why was he being nice to her now? She should be glad, relieved about all of it. But it threw her off balance. She furrowed her brow. Either she wanted his compliments and approval or she didn’t. She wished she could make up her mind which.
“You’re a very good cook.”
“It was…”
She paused. So what if it was what she’d used to make for special occasions? She was tired of giving Rob any power. He had no business here. He had no business in her life anymore. He’d forfeited that privilege, and she’d done her share of crying about it. The only person keeping him front and center was her. “It is one of my favorites.”
“So what’s the story of Emily Northcott?” Luke folded up the dish towel and hung it over the door of the stove. “I mean, you must have a place in Calgary. Sam’s father must be helping. Why pick a position that takes you away from home?”
Of course he’d ask right at the moment she’d decided not to mention Rob again. But the question struck a nerve. Somehow she wanted him to know. She wanted him to realize that she had tried everything she could to make things right. She already thought of him as stubborn rancher, a bit of a strong, silent type but she’d glimpsed moments of compassion, too. How would he remember her after she moved on? Not as a victim. Never that. She wanted him to see what she wanted to see in herself. Strength. Resourcefulness. Pride, but not vanity.
“I was a stay-at-home mom. Once I got pregnant and my ex started working, we agreed on a plan. I had my degree in science, and I put Rob through school by working for a laboratory. The idea was for him to start work and then he’d support me as I took my pharmacy degree. But then we had Sam, and Rob said he would support us both. I was thrilled. Having Sam changed everything. Being his mom was the best job I’d ever had. I know it’s not a job in the strict sense, but I really felt like I was doing something important, making a home for us, bringing him up. And I was thankful to have that choice. I know not everyone does.”
Remembering those days stung. Rob had pretended the arrangement was perfect, but in the end it wasn’t what he’d wanted. Emily had been too blind to see it until it was too late. “And then he left.”
She cast a furtive look at the stairway, knowing Sam was asleep but still worried that if he woke up he’d hear her talking.
Luke followed her gaze. “You don’t want him to hear us talking about it?”
Emily nodded, relieved he’d taken the hint so quickly. “He’s been through enough. He’s asleep, but any mention of his dad and he gets so upset.”
“He thinks his dad doesn’t like him.”
Her head snapped around. “What?”
“He told me. He said I don’t like him and his dad doesn’t like him and that he does just fine.” He pinned her with a steady look. “He’s quite a kid, actually. But it made me wonder. Are you fine, Emily?”
She ignored the question, instead focusing on thoughts of Sam. Did he really believe that? That his father didn’t like him? Sadness warred with anger at the situation. She hated that he didn’t feel loved by both parents.
“I’m sorry he said that to you,” she whispered
, faltering for a moment, letting the despair in for just a second. Then she closed it away. There was nothing productive in feeling sorry for herself. “I’ll have him apologize, Luke.”
His gaze darkened and his jaw tightened. “No need. He was just being honest. He’s a good kid. You’ve done a good job with him. It’s not easy being a single parent.”
The compliment went to her heart. “Thank you. But I worry about what he’s missing. If I’m enough, you know?”
“You just do the best you can.”
She leaned back against the counter, looked up at Luke, wondering at the tight tone of his voice. What did he know of it? And yet she got the feeling he somehow understood. “I can’t even put food on the table at the moment,” she admitted.
His face flattened with alarm. “It’s that bad?”
“Let’s go outside,” she suggested. Luke was standing too close again and she needed the fresh air and open space.