later. Now she was busy designing their own home while she got ready for the baby that would arrive near Valentine’s Day.
His bedroom door was ajar and he pushed it wide as he walked into the room.
Lyn whirled at his entrance, one hand going to her throat where she stood in front of his dresser putting away stacks of clothing. She didn’t make a sound, but her face went so completely white she scared him.
“Whoa, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you were outside.”
“I— I wasn’t.”
He nearly smiled but she still looked too rattled. “I can see that.” He waited, but she didn’t move a muscle. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Um, how about you finding some other chore to do while I get dressed?”
“Oh!” The color flooded back into her cheeks and she flushed a deep scarlet in keeping with her vibrant hair. “I’m sorry. I’ll just— I’ll just get out now.” She scurried past him, head down, edging sideways so as not to touch him, and vanished down the hallway before he could say another word.
Cal shook his head ruefully as he closed the bedroom door. Dropping the towel, he stood naked, hands on his hips while the cool air circulated by the ceiling fan he’d had installed washed over him. Poor thing. He’d seen some of the evidence of what had been done to her, and he’d heard more. Her ex-husband must have been a pathetic excuse for a man. No real man would hit a female much less beat her the way Lyn had been beaten. He felt a flicker of bone-deep rage at the thought of the bruises that she’d still borne when he’d first brought her to the ranch. That beautiful skin should never have known a bruise.
Her skin was so fair and milky-white that it was practically translucent, and he’d found himself fascinated by the parade of tiny freckles that marched across her nose. Every time he was near her, he had to hold in check the urge to reach out and trace them with a fingertip. She had a light scattering of freckles over her arms, as well, and he wondered if there were any other parts of her that were freckled.
Then he grimly shook his head, looking down the length of his body, which had responded instantly to thoughts of Lyn. He was a first-class jerk, lusting after a skinny little female who’d been manhandled like she had been. This was getting ridiculous. He needed a woman. He’d been too busy in New York those last few months to bother dating much, and he’d been celibate since he’d moved home. No wonder he was fantasizing about his housekeeper.
Maybe it was time to start thinking about looking for a wife. Even before the last couple hectic months, when he’d been busy transferring all his hard-won clients to other brokers he trusted and hammering out the buying arrangements for the ranch, he hadn’t minded his single state. Most of the time he’d been too tired by the end of a wild day on Wall Street and when he had wanted feminine companionship, he’d availed himself of the multitudes of liberated single career women who didn’t want attachments any more than he had. But now…now things were different. Now he could devote time to a family if he started one. As he dressed and started down the stairs, the word stuck in his head, replaying over and over. Family…family…family… He was determined to have a family of his own some day, a real family, with both parents in the household and a bunch of kids running around—nothing like the rather lonely existence he’d known growing up. Though his father had loved him, he’d keenly felt the difference between what he’d always thought of as “real” families and his own.
His annual summer visits with his mother in Virginia only reinforced the loneliness. He was the outsider. His mother, her second husband and Silver, his half sister, were a happy, tight-knit trio. He’d always wondered if his own life would have been like that if his mother hadn’t abandoned his father and him.
Lyn had supper ready when he walked into the kitchen, and he sniffed the air with interest. “What do I smell?”
She turned from the stove, where she was transferring a pot of steaming broccoli to a serving dish. “Marinated pork chops. It’s not fancy.” Was it his imagination or did she sound faintly defensive?
“I don’t care how un-fancy it is,” he assured her. “It smells fantastic.”
And it was, as were the homemade muffins, the stewed apples and the devils’ food cake she set before him when the table had been cleared. It was just the two of them, since the men who worked for him had families of their own and went home at the end of the day. He’d gotten into the habit early on of telling her all about his day, mostly as a way of filling the silence at the table. Tonight was no different except that she asked questions a few times instead of nodding and raising an eyebrow to get him to continue.
She grimaced when he told her about the young rabbit that had gotten caught in the sickle. “I know it’s impossible to miss them, but it always made me cry,” she said.
Cal nodded. “Well, I did manage to avoid hitting a fawn today. You should have seen him run.”
Her eyes glowed, a striking emerald in the evening light coming through the big window by the nook where the kitchen table was set, and he was reminded of cats’ eyes in the dark. “They’re so sweet when they’re little,” she said. Then she chuckled. “Of course, I even think calves are sweet, so I guess my judgment is suspect.”
Cal smiled at that. “God, I missed this life. I didn’t even realize how much until I got back again. I can’t wait for calving season.”
Her eyebrows rose in that silent way of hers. “You have to get through winter first,” she reminded him.
“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled. “It’s going to be a long one.” He rose from the table then, picking up his plate to take it to the dishwasher.
“Oh, don’t. I’ll do that.” Lyn rushed over and whisked the plate from his hand, along with the water glass and fork he’d lifted.
“I don’t mind. You work hard enough during the day,” he said.
“But I mind,” she said. “You work hard, too, and this is what you’re paying me for.” She crossed to the dishwasher and rinsed the plate before setting it in the rack.
“I haven’t told you how much I appreciate you giving me this chance,” she said slowly.
“You don’t have to. I promised Silver I’d hire you but I also told her I couldn’t keep you on if you didn’t work out. I need someone I can depend on to be in charge of the house.” He gazed across the kitchen at her. “I can depend on you. The job is yours as long as you want it.”
She stared at him, and to his dismay her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged, uncomfortable with her gratitude. “No big deal.” And before she could really get the waterworks flowing, he beat a hasty retreat to the living room to catch the evening news. But as he sat, trying to focus on what was happening in the rest of the world, he was far too conscious of the woman moving around in the kitchen. When she finally turned out the kitchen light, his body relaxed in relief as she started for the stairs.
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night.” Now he wished he could get her to sit down and talk some more. He was fascinated by her husky, musical voice. That voice smacked of long afternoons making love in dim bedrooms and every time she spoke, his body reacted to the promise in those sexy tones. Just yesterday, when she’d been helping him bandage his finger, that voice had
