outside, yes. My mom was a stay-at-home mom and my dad sold cars.” Telling Luke took her back to her college days when she’d been slightly ashamed of her modest home and she realized now that Rob had never quite fit in there. Perhaps this split had always been coming, and was not as random as she thought. She’d been trying to be someone she wasn’t. Maybe he had, too. Now, despite the fact that she knew there would be a certain bit of “I told you so”, home didn’t seem so bad. She’d been afraid of being judged, but she knew that wasn’t really why she didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to go back a failure. She wanted to go back when she could look her parents in the eye and say that she’d fixed it. The way they’d always seemed to fix things. If money was tight or jobs were lost, they still always seemed to manage. And they’d stayed together. Not because they had to, but because they loved each other. Emily found it so hard to live up to that kind of example.
However, she could say none of this to Luke. What would he think of her if he knew? The last thing she wanted was to lay out a list of her faults and failings.
“And what took you to Calgary?”
She simply lifted an eyebrow.
“Ah,” he chuckled, understanding. “Sam’s father?”
She nodded, finally taking a seat at the table and curling her hands around the mug. The sun was up over the knoll now and gleaming brightly in the kitchen. This was where the questions would end. She had no desire to tell Luke the sordid details of the split. There would be no more breakfasts for two. She was here to work. It was glorious just to be able to make her own decisions now. She just kept telling herself that. Her parents didn’t know she’d had to give up her house or that she hadn’t received any child support. She’d been too proud to tell them. She’d been certain she’d turn things around before they got to this point. And she would. She just needed a little more time and a solid plan.
“And you?” To keep him from prying further into her personal life, she turned the tables. “You’ve been here your whole life, I suppose.”
“Of course.”
“The girls didn’t care to be farmers?”
He looked at her over the rim of his mug, his blue gaze measuring. Luke Evans was no pushover, Emily realized. He saw right through her intentions. It should have put her off, but it didn’t. Everything about Luke was intelligent, decisive. It was crazily sexy.
“The ‘girls', as you say, got married and started their own families. Joe manages a farm-equipment dealership—he’s the proud daddy this morning. Liz’s husband is a schoolteacher. They both know their way around a barn, but that’s not their life now.”
“So you handle this alone?” She put the mug down on the table.
“I have some hired help.” His lips made a thin line and his gaze slid from hers. Subject closed.
But she pressed on. “Then what about the Evans and Son on the sign? What about your dad and mom? How long have they been gone?”
He pushed out his chair and put his mug on top of his plate, taking the stack to the cupboard next to the sink. “I’ve got to get going. I have to get the boys started on their own this morning so I can run into town.”
Emily knew she had gone too far. Something about his parents pushed a button. She had sensed it when she’d seen their picture, when he’d looked into their empty bedroom and again just now when she’d asked about them.
“About town … you really are short of groceries. Could we go with you? We won’t take extra time. We can shop while you run your errands.”
He reached for his hat and plunked it on his head. To Emily, it seemed like armor to hide behind. And it added inches to his height.
Maybe some people didn’t appreciate a closet full of fresh-smelling clothes, shining floors and a good meal, but she’d bet Luke would. She’d bet anything that he’d grown up exactly that way. His sisters had moved on, apparently to fulfilling, happy lives. Why hadn’t Luke? Not that the farm wasn’t successful. But it felt like a piece of the puzzle was missing.
“I can’t expect you to cook without food, I suppose,” he replied. “Be ready about nine, then. I need to get back as soon as I can.”
“Yes, boss,” she replied, putting his dishes in the sink to wash up.
It was all back to the status quo until he reached the screen door and then she heard his voice call quietly.
“Emily?”
She went to the doorway. “Yes?”
He smiled. “Good pancakes.”
The screen door shut behind him, but Emily stared at it a good ten seconds before making her feet move.
Yes, indeed. She could wow Luke Evans in the kitchen. And she knew exactly what would be on the menu tonight.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUKE GAVE THE ratchet another turn and adjusted the trouble light. When had it gotten so dark? He stood back, staring at the rusted parts that made up the baler. It needed love. It needed replacing. But this repair would hold him through this season. And if things went well, he’d talk Joe into a discount and buy a new one next year.
He made a few final adjustments and straightened, rubbing the small of his back. Between the trip to town, Cait and the baler, he’d spent all of half an hour in the fields today. He frowned. It wasn’t how he liked to run things. He wasn’t a boss who gave orders and disappeared. Here everyone worked together and shared the load. But what could he do? He’d left the repairs until after dinner as it was, working in the dim light.
“Hi.”
He spun at the sound of the small voice and saw Sam standing before him in his bare feet and a pair of cotton pajamas. The boy was cute as a bug’s ear, Luke acknowledged, with his brown curls and wide chocolate eyes like his mother’s. Eyes that seemed to see everything. Luke wiped his hands on a rag and tucked the end into his back pocket. “Shouldn’t you be up at the house? In bed?”
A light blush darkened Sam’s cheeks as his gaze skittered away for a moment. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s too hot.”
“Your mom would open the window.”
“She said she didn’t want to hear a peep out of me,” Sam admitted, and Luke hid a smile. Not hear a peep, so sneaking out of the house was okay?
“Then you’d better hightail it back in there, don’t you think? You don’t want your mom to be mad.”
Sam swallowed and nodded and turned away, only to turn back again. “Why don’t you like my mama?”
Luke’s hands dropped to his sides as Sam asked the pointblank question. “What makes you think I don’t like her?” he asked.
“Because you never said anything to her at supper. And she made veal. I helped. She only does that when it’s special.”
The veal had been good, as had the pasta and salad. Certainly much fancier than he was used to making for himself. “I suppose I had my head full of everything I need to do. I don’t usually have company
