of laundry, then went to the master bedroom to remove the sheets from Jase’s bed. Though she’d been in his room several times during the week, she hadn’t entered her employer’s private quarters since his late-night return. She noticed immediately the changes his presence made in the room. The sharp, spicy scent of aftershave lingered in the air, as did the faint odor she’d learned to associate with the corral and the livestock herded in and out of it almost daily.
She stooped to pick up a pair of socks from the floor and held her nose, grimacing, as she deposited them in the hamper in the master bath where she noticed more signs of her employer’s presence. A wet towel lay on the floor, discarded after his morning shower, she was sure. A toothbrush was angled over the edge of the sink and an assortment of coins were scattered over the tile countertop where he’d obviously emptied his pockets before dropping the jeans to the floor. She nudged a fingertip through the pile of loose change, finding a rusty nail and a crumpled receipt amongst the coins, as well as a tattered package of antacids.
Shaking her head at the odd accumulation, she picked up the jeans and dropped them in the clothes hamper before returning to the bedroom. She frowned slightly as she noticed that the bed, though rumpled, was already made. Had he made it up himself? she wondered, then snorted a laugh when she noticed the imprint of his body on the comforter and realized that he hadn’t even bothered to turn down the bed when he’d arrived home, but had opted to sleep on top of the covers instead.
With a rueful shake of her head, she ripped back the comforter and quickly stripped off the sheets. Wadding them into her arms, she headed for the laundry room, but slowed in the hallway, her attention captured by the gallery of framed pictures hanging there. Though she’d looked at the photos before, she found her curiosity heightened after her earlier, heated conversation with her employer.
Pictures of Rachel and the twins dominated the wall, monitoring the children’s growth from birth to present day, but Annie found herself skimming over them in search of pictures of Jase. She smiled as she recognized a picture of him with Penny, taken when his sister was probably about Tara’s age. Jase stood apart from Penny, yet there was an unmistakable protectiveness in his posture that indicated he took his responsibilities as his sister’s guardian very seriously.
Though he was much younger in the picture, Annie noticed that Jase hadn’t changed much over the years. In fact, she was sure she recognized the grim scowl and the steely-eyed impatience as the same expression he’d graced her with at breakfast and again at noon.
With a sigh, she shifted her gaze to Penny. Plain, but by no means unattractive, in the photograph Penny projected an image of solemnity unnatural for one so young. Annie supposed it was due to the tragedies Penny had suffered so early in life, the responsibilities she’d been forced to assume.
Though she’d only known Jase’s sister a short span of time, Annie suspected she knew Penny better than her own brother did. She attributed that advantage to her fondness for studying people, noting their mannerisms and habits, the little quirks that spoke volumes about their personalities. Too, people tended to tell her things about themselves, guarded little secrets that they wouldn’t dream of sharing with another. She wasn’t sure why that was so, though she suspected it was simply because she was willing to listen. For whatever reason, throughout her life she had found herself serving as a sounding board and vault for the problems and dreams of countless others, just as she had for Penny in the short week they had spent together before Penny’s departure.
Penny Rawley was way past spreading her wings a little, Annie reaffirmed as she moved farther down the hallway. From what Penny had told her, the woman had dedicated herself and her life to Jase and his family. Especially so after the death of Jase’s wife.
Reaching a wedding portrait framed in gilt, Annie stopped in front of it, tilting her head slightly as she studied the couple pictured there. So young, she thought with a twinge of sadness as she focused on the bride smiling radiantly and lovingly up at her husband, a bouquet of white roses clutched beneath her chin. And what a scar her passing had left on Jase, she reflected with regret, noting the devotion with which he gazed down upon his wife and remembering the bitterness of his expression when he’d snapped his fingers, demonstrating the quickness of her passing. That he’d loved his wife was obvious in the gesture. That he still harbored resentment, maybe even anger over her loss was even more obvious.
Pensive, she moved on to the laundry room, stuffed the dirty linens into the washing machine, then headed outside with a basket loaded with those she’d already washed. The warmth of the sun and the sound of birds singing in the centuries-old oak tree at the corner of the backyard chased her concerns for Jase and his family from her mind and drew a cheerful smile. Humming an accompaniment to the birds’ warbled songs she drew a sheet from the basket, caught it by its corners and clipped it to the clothesline, then reached inside the basket for another.
“We have a clothes dryer.”
Annie jumped, then sagged weakly, clutching the damp sheet against her chest as she turned to frown at Jase. “You’ve got to quit doing that,” she scolded.
“Doing what?”
“Sneaking up on me like that.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Wasn’t sneaking. Was on my way to the house.” He gestured to the sheet she still held against her chest. “Thought I ought to let you know we have a clothes dryer and save you the trouble of hanging the sheets on the line.”
She huffed a breath as she turned. “I know there’s a clothes dryer,” she replied, thinking of the mountains of dirty laundry she’d washed since her arrival in his home. She plucked a clothespin from the line and clipped it over the sheet, securing it in place. “I just happen to prefer sun-dried linens.”
He lifted an indifferent shoulder. “It’s your back.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed and squatted down beside the basket to dig through the remaining linens for the matching pillowcases to hang. “And speaking of my back, would you mind if I strained it a little more by cleaning out the garden and planting a few vegetables?”
When he didn’t respond immediately, she glanced up and found that he’d turned and was staring at the garden plot, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set in a hard line. Seeing the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, she quickly rose. “If you’d rather I didn’t—”
He shook his head and walked away. “Do what you want with it,” he muttered.
She stared after him, wondering what it was about her request that he found so upsetting.
Still puzzling over Jase’s strange reaction to her request to plant a garden, Annie whacked at the weeds choking the small piece of ground. She’d cleared a space about three feet by three feet when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Sensing that she was being watched, she glanced up and saw Jase standing in the opening of the barn’s loft, shirtless, his hands braced high on the opening’s frame. Sweat gleamed on his muscled arms and chest and darkened the waist of his jeans.
Though his hat shadowed his face, she felt the intensity of his gaze, the unmistakable heat in it. As he continued to stare, she drew a hand to the hollow of her throat, suddenly feeling exposed, as if he’d somehow managed to strip her of her clothing and left her standing naked in the garden.
An awareness passed between them, something primitive and sexual that had Annie’s pulse pummeling her palm, her mouth going dry as dust. She wanted to look away…but found she couldn’t. She could only stare in slack-jawed fascination at the virile image he created standing high in the loft, one knee slightly bent, one hip cocked a little higher than the other. He looked so commanding, so utterly
