A Family for the Rugged Rancher

“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.