A Family for the Rugged Rancher

“Matchmaking? Perish the thought.” Liz affected an innocent look so perfectly that Emily found herself grinning back. “Listen,” Liz continued, getting out spoons. “Luke has always said he will never get married anyway. So nothing to worry about, right?”

“I’

d like to make some jam out of these berries,” Emily said to Liz, offering an olive branch as the kettle began to whistle, trying to ignore Liz’s latest bombshell. Never get married? She forced her mind back to the present. “Where’s the best place to shop for jars and pectin?”

For the next hour the baby napped, the kids played in the sunshine and Liz and Emily stemmed the remaining berries, chatting easily about lighter topics. But the whole time Emily thought of Luke and his past. She couldn’t help wondering why he was determined to be alone. Had he had his heart broken? Was it any of her business to ask? If she did, would he answer? She couldn’t help the sneaky suspicion that Liz’s throwaway comment had been intended to do just that—make her wonder.

The farmyard was dark except for the light Emily saw coming from the machine shed. It was past ten o’clock and still Luke hadn’t come in. He hadn’t had any supper, either. She’d waited for him long after Sam had gone to bed, finishing up the last batch of jam and leaving it to set on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t forget all that Liz had told her during their chat—and what she hadn’t.

She carried a warm plate in her hands as she crossed the gravel drive. The man had to eat something. If he wouldn’t come in, she’d take it to him.

She balanced the plate on one hand and opened the door to the shed. All that was visible of Luke as she entered was his legs. The rest of him was underneath her car. A long yellow cord disappeared along with the upper half of his body—a trouble light illuminating the dirty job of changing her oil. Clanking sounds echoed on the concrete floor as he put down the filter wrench and oil began draining into the catch pan. “Luke?”

At the sound of her voice he slid out from beneath her car, the sound of the creeper wheels grating loudly in the stillness. The rest of his legs appeared, then came his flat stomach, his broad chest and muscled arms and then his head—now devoid of hat, his hair dark with sweat in the oppressive heat of the shop. Her gaze fixed on his arms as he pushed himself up to sitting.

Emily felt a bead of perspiration form on her temple in the close atmosphere of the shop. Throughout the afternoon the heat had increased until the kids had dropped, sapped of their energy. It hadn’t let up after sundown. Even the peepers were quiet tonight, and when the creeper came to a halt, the silence in the shop was deafening.

“What are you doing with my car?”

“Changing your oil. It looked like it’d been a while.”

It had, but that wasn’t exactly the point. “I…you…” She didn’t quite know what to say that didn’t sound grouchy and angry. Especially since she was both of those things. Part of it was the heat. But a bigger part was that he’d taken it upon himself to do this without even consulting her.

“You might have asked me first.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s just an oil change, Emily.”

Pride kicked in. “And the cost of the filter, and the cost of the oil.”

“If it means that much to you, I’ll deduct it from your pay.”

Her hand shook beneath the warm dinner plate. She didn’t want to lose any of her precious paycheck right now. And if she were to lose any of it, she should be the one to say where it went.

“That really wasn’t on my list of things to do with my first check, Luke.” She was trying—and failing—to keep a quiver out of her voice. “It’s been a long time since I had my own pay. I’d like to be the one to decide what happens to it. And besides, it’s after ten o’clock. You’ve already spent the day outside while I was inside with Liz….”

Suddenly the lightbulb came on. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re avoiding me because you think Liz put a bug in my ear.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “What’s on the plate?”

“I’m right!” Victorious, she let out a breath. “You can’t stay out here all night, you know. And you can’t avoid me forever. For what it’s worth, Liz barely told me anything. You could have saved yourself the trouble.”

Luke put on his most nonchalant expression. “Your oil needed changing and I wanted to do it for you. Now, are you going to share that plate or did you just bring it out here to torture me?”

He got to his feet, looking sexier than a man had a right to in dusty jeans, work boots and a grease-stained T-shirt, and she had the thought that he could change her oil or tune up her car any time.

She held out the plate. “You should have come in for supper—you’ve got to be exhausted. The car could have waited. I know you want to get the hay in.” She tried a smile. “You have to make hay while the sun shines, I’ve heard.”

“That’s true,” he said. “With this heat—we need to get it baled before the rain comes tomorrow. I’m guessing thunderstorms. And there is always the chance of hail.”

“Then take a rest.”

He reached for a rag and wiped his hands before taking the plate. His fingers were long and rough, with a half-healed scratch running the length of one. He made a living with his hands and hard work. There was something earthy about that and she found it incredibly attractive.

“Lasagna. And garlic bread.” He stared at the contents of the plate with undisguised pleasure. “My God, that smells awesome. Do you know how long it’s been since I had lasagna?”

“That’s a good thing, then?”

He went to a wheeled stool and sat down. “Oh, yeah, it’s a good thing.” The shop began to fill with the scent of spicy tomatoes and beef. “Pull up a pew, Emily.”