A Family for the Rugged Rancher

And he would die before explaining why to Emily. It was bad enough he’d said as much as he had.

“I never meant to give that impression. Of course there are times he needs to be at the house, but there’s also no reason why he can’t come with me now and again. He can play with Liz’s kids. The Canada Day celebrations are soon. There’ll be lots of activities for the kids. Has he ever ridden a horse?”

She shook her head.

“I’m not very good at showing my feelings, Emily. That’s all. Don’t take it personally.”

“It is lovely here. The house is a joy and I’m loving the fresh air and freedom of it. I think Sam is, too. If he gets in the way, just tell me, Luke. He’s my son, not yours. My responsibility. You don’t need to feel like you have to…whatever.”

Her words shouldn’t have stung but they did. Yes, Sam was her son, and a reminder that Luke would never have one of his own. He would never burden a family the way he’d been burdened.

“Just enjoy the summer, Emily. Think about what you want to do when it’s over. Just because I had to give up my dreams doesn’t mean you have to give up yours.”

The fluorescent lights hummed in the silence.

“I should go in, it’s getting late.”

Luke cleared his throat. “Your oil is definitely drained. I’ll put on the new filter and be behind you in a few minutes.” He boosted himself away from the hood of the car and reached for a plastic-wrapped cylinder on the workbench.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you show me how to do that sometime? How to change my oil and stuff? I’d like to be able to do it for myself.”

After all they’d talked about tonight, the simple request was the thing that touched him most. She was so intent on being independent. And she trusted him. For some weird reason, she trusted him and it opened something up inside him that had been closed for a very long time.

“Next time we get a rainy day, I promise,” he said. “Now get on up to the house. It’s after eleven. And morning comes early.”

“Yes, boss,” she replied, but the tension from her face had evaporated and she smiled as she picked up his plate and empty bottle. She paused by the door. “Luke?”

He looked up from his position on the creeper. “Em?”

“Thanks for the talk. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She scuttled out the door, but Luke leaned his head back, resting it on the grill of the car and closing his eyes.

Emily had snuck past almost all of his defenses tonight. And if he wasn’t careful, she’d get through them all. And then where would they be?

Curses. Emily put one foot after the other going back to the house in the dark, the echo of a wrench sounding behind her in the stillness. His last word to her had been the shortened version of her name and it had sent a curl of awareness through her. She entered the dark house, left the dishes in the kitchen and felt her way up the steps, using the banister for guidance. In her room she paused, thinking about what had been said and what hadn’t. Luke had held back at times, and she wondered why. Now she was more aware than ever that the two bedrooms were only short steps away from each other. She’d be beneath her sheet tonight, listening to the breeze in the trees, and he’d be just on the other side of the wall, doing the same thing.

Damn.

She could do this. She refused to fall for Luke Evans. Maybe they’d reached a new understanding of each other tonight, but that was all. She had to put Sam first, and that didn’t include fooling around with the boss. What she needed to do was appreciate what was good about the situation. All the great things about living on a farm could be theirs for the next few months.

Then there was sitting across from Luke at the table, seeing his face morning, noon and night, washing his clothes, smelling the scent of his soap as she hung up his damp towel in the morning. She swallowed. That was the problem. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, but she was. She couldn’t not be. He was one-hundred-percent strong, virile male, hardworking and honest.

But attraction and acting on it were two very different things. As she lay in the dark, listening for him to return to the house, she thought about what he’d said about school. There was merit there. Perhaps she could talk to her parents after all. It would do Sam good to have family around him more as she got back on her feet. And with her summer’s earnings she could buy a laptop and take a few courses.

She was still waiting and planning when she finally drifted off to sleep.

Luke squinted up at the sky, watching the broad roll of clouds balling up in the west. They were still a long way away, but as he wiped the sweat trickling off his brow, he knew they were thunderheads. The forecast had been right for once, though he wished it hadn’t. He turned the wheel of the tractor, making one last pass with the rake, watching the Orrick boys work the baler. Hail would wreck what was cut, making it good for nothing. They’d finish, by God, before the rain came. They

’d finish if it killed him.

It was a race against time and no one stopped for a lunch break as they worked, dirt mixing with sweat on their brows in the sweltering waves of heat. The thunderheads piled on top of each other, reaching to massive heights and creeping their way eastward to Brooks, Duchess and everywhere in between. He thought of Emily and Sam back at the house. He should have brought his cell. He had no doubt Em could handle a thunderstorm, but he would have liked to hear her voice, to make sure she wasn’t out somewhere when the storm hit. To ask her if she’d brought in the hanging baskets. If Sam was okay.

He shook his head. When had he started to care so much? How was it that she snuck into his thoughts no matter where he was or what he was doing?