Considering her belief that doing so would help Luke, her haste made sense. Clearly she cared about his son.
Spencer marched upstairs to his room, threw open the wardrobe doors and stared at the empty space. True to her word, Tess had removed every last one of Trudy’s dresses. His few items looked lost in the large clothes cupboard. He yanked open the drawers on Trudy’s side of the bureau and found gaping caverns. Tess was not only fast. She was thorough.
But why, if she’d whisked away all of Trudy’s things, did the room smell so strongly of roses, as though his wife had been there moments before? He had to do something to clear his head. Now.
As quickly as he could, he changed from his work clothes to ranch wear. He shut the doors of the wardrobe with more force than he’d intended and stormed down the stairs, not stopping until he reached the barn. Inhaling deeply of the scents of his childhood—horses, straw and leather—his senses were restored.
Spying his ropes, he knew what to do. He grabbed his favorite one and entered the pen. With the coils of his lariat in his left hand, he spun the loop with his right and let it fly.
* * *
Tess wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and stepped out the back door. What was Spencer doing? She’d worked hard to have supper ready when he got home, but he’d raised a ruckus in his room overhead, with doors and drawers slamming, and stomped out of the house a good ten minutes ago. Evidently he was angry about the changes she’d made, even though he’d given her permission.
Regret settled in her stomach like a rock. In her desire to help Luke, she’d neglected to take Spencer’s feelings into consideration. What was done was done, but perhaps she could find a way to show that she understood his pain and assure him she was only trying to ease it.
She followed the wraparound porch to the north side of the house where she could see the barn and stopped, her chin dropping. Never had she seen a man work off his anger by lassoing things. She stood transfixed as Spencer spun his loop and threw it.
He roped fence post after fence post, not missing a single one. His form and prowess were awe-inspiring. She could watch him for hours. If only he hadn’t started his roping before supper.
Supper! She dashed inside to rescue her meal, moving pots and pans to the side of the stove where the dishes would stay warm. “Please play with your sister, Luke, while I get your papa.”
He grunted a reply.
Tess left the children rolling their canvas ball back and forth. She stepped off the back porch and rounded the corner. To her disappointment, Spencer stood outside the pen with one foot resting on the lowest slat of the fence, gazing into the distance.
Loath to disturb him and yet having no choice, she crossed the yard, her boots making little sound on the hard-packed earth. She reached him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
He started.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to surprise you, but supper’s ready.”
His eyes widened, and he shook his head as though clearing it. “The smell. It’s you. I wasn’t imagining it. I thought...”
“Luke noticed it, too. I didn’t know your wife wore rosewater. My intention was to help, not to stir up memories.”
“It’s fine. The job needed to be done. I was just...surprised.”
“I know it’s hard. I’m sorry for that, truly I am, but you’ll be happy to know that Luke fell asleep on your bed with the quilt his mother made him, breathing in her scent. He rested peacefully. No tossing and turning. When he woke he was more amiable than I’ve ever seen him. Not that I’m expecting the change to last, but this was a start. He can begin his healing.”
Spencer stretched a section of the rope taut and snapped it. She resisted the urge to jump.
“He’s a strong boy. He’ll be fine.”
Eventually yes, but now wasn’t the time to delve into the merits of dealing with one’s grief instead of acting as though nothing was wrong. She had a more pressing matter to discuss. “I found some letters hidden among your wife’s things. I felt sure you’d want to keep them.”
Concern creased his brow. “Those are personal. You didn’t—”
“Read them? Of course not. I just wanted to know what you’d like me to do with them.”
The silence hung heavy until he broke it. “Hide them somewhere. I couldn’t bear to see them again.”
“I understand. I’ll do that.” She started for the house but turned when he called her name.
“I’m expecting a shipment soon. A bull. I thought you should know.”
“A bull?” She wouldn’t have expected Spencer to send for one, although she shouldn’t be surprised. He was a rugged, manly man who had quite a way with a rope, so it made sense he knew about raising cattle.
Without realizing it, he’d given her a way to gain a foothold as she attempted to scale the walls the Abbott males had erected—and have fun at the same time. “Would you teach me how to lasso something?”
“You were watching me?” His impassive expression gave no indication of his thoughts.
Heat sped to Tess’s cheeks. Since she’d already blurted her request, she might as well make it sound like a reasonable one. “I’d like you to teach me, so I can show Luke how. Or better yet, you could teach us both. He’d love it if you were to spend time with him.”
“Would he?”
Although they were talking about Luke, Tess got the distinct impression Spencer was challenging her. Well, she hadn’t backed down before, and she wouldn’t now. “Your son is much like you. He needs an active outlet for his emo—his energy. I’d love to see him use it for something as impressive as r-roping.”
If he’d stop staring at her with that quirked eyebrow, she might be able to complete a sentence without stumbling over her words and saying more than she’d intended. Impressive indeed! What would he think of her now? She sounded like a smitten schoolgirl instead of the levelheaded housekeeper she was. “If you’ll give it some thought, I’d appreciate it. Now, I must go inside and get supper on the table. I do hope you’ll be joining us soon.”
She’d taken a total of ten steps when a rope encircled her, tightened around her waist and pinned her arms to her sides. The force jerked her back, causing her to stumble as if she’d run full tilt into a clothesline.
Before she could turn, a tug on the rope spun her to face him. A flash of anger sent a renewed rush of warmth to her face. She struggled to free her hands. “You lassoed me?”
The shocked look on his face showed he was as surprised by his out-of-character behavior as she. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t want you to leave, and then—” he shrugged “—it just happened.”
Although the leather rope was smooth and the binding not uncomfortably tight, she didn’t cotton to the idea of being bound. “I’m not a cow. I’m a woman.”
“You are. And a fine one, too. Here, let me
