He gripped the phone a little tighter and glanced around at the drifts of snow that were growing deeper with each passing minute. A quick toss and no one would find the sucker before spring.
Just as he was about to act on his impulse, that reason of which he was so proud kicked in. What if there was a genuine emergency? The cellular phone might be their only link to the outside world. Instead of burying it in snow, he tucked it into the truck’s glove compartment, behind the assortment of maps and grain receipts and who-knew-what-else had been jammed in there without thought. Then he turned the lock securely and glanced guiltily back at the house, wondering if Jessie would guess that he was deliberately keeping her stranded, wondering what her reaction would be if she did know.
Even through the swirling snow, he could see the smoke rising from the chimney, the lights beckoning from the windows. An unexpected sense of peace stole over him. Suddenly, for the first time since he’d built it simply to make a statement to his father—a declaration of independence from Harlan Adams and his need to maintain a tight-fisted control over his sons—the huge, far-too-big monster of a house seemed like a home.
* * *
Jessie couldn’t imagine what was taking Luke so long. Surely Luke hadn’t lost his way in the storm. Though the snowfall was still steady, it was nowhere near as fierce and blinding as it had been.
And he knew every acre of his land as intimately as he might a woman. His voice low and seductive, he’d boasted often enough of every rise and dip, every verdant pasture. He’d done it just to rile his father with his independence, but that didn’t lessen the depth of his pride or his sensual appreciation for the land. No, Luke wasn’t lost, which meant he was dallying intentionally.
While he was taking his sweet time about getting back, she was tiring quickly. The last burst of adrenaline had long since worn off. She had already cleaned up the remains of the supper they’d barely touched, washed the dishes and put them away. For the past five minutes she’d been standing at the backdoor, peering into the contrasting world of impenetrable black and brilliant white.
She thought she could see Luke’s shadow in the truck and wondered for a moment if he had a bottle stashed there. That array she’d found in his cupboard had worried her. She had never known him to take more than a social drink or two before, had never seen him as on-his-butt drunk as he’d been the night before when she’d arrived.
When at last he climbed out of the truck and headed for the house, she watched his progress with a critical eye. He didn’t seem to be staggering, no more so than anyone would be in the deep snow. Shivering at the blast of frigid air, she nonetheless planted herself squarely in the middle of the open doorway, so he couldn’t pass by without her getting a whiff of his breath.
“Everything okay?” she called as he neared.
“Fine. Get back inside before you freeze.”
Jessie didn’t budge. “You took so long I got worried.”
He brushed past her, bringing the fresh scent of snow and the tingle of icy air into the house with him. There was no telltale trace of liquor mingling with the crisp winter aromas. She sighed with relief as she closed the door tightly against the night.
“Couldn’t find the phone,” he announced as he plunked her bags in the middle of the floor. “I’m always forgetting it someplace or another. It’ll turn up.”
Jessie regarded him suspiciously. His tone seemed a little too hearty. “What about a CB? You must have one and I know your folks do.”
“Mine’s on the fritz. Haven’t seen any reason to get it fixed since I got the phone.”
He was deliberately avoiding her gaze. “Luke?” she began quizzically.
He glanced her way for the briefest of seconds. “What?”
Jessie debated calling him on what she suspected were a series of lies, then chastised herself for being far too suspicious. What possible motive would he have for lying? There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he wanted her gone just as badly as she wanted to go. Getting him to the dinner table hadn’t been easy. Getting him to stay there had been impossible. He’d seized the first excuse he could to escape. Obviously he wasn’t anxious to close the gap that had formed between them when Erik had died on this very ranch.
Last night’s emergency and Luke’s gentle, caring response to it had been an aberration brought on by extraordinary circumstances. Now they were back to the status quo. She couldn’t help the vague feeling of disappointment that stole through her.
Finally she shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll take my things to the bedroom.” She glanced at him. “Or would you rather I take them to one of the guest suites upstairs?”
Luke seemed unduly angered by the question. “I can take them and you’ll stay in the room you’re in now.”
“But there’s no reason for me to put you out of your own room, when there are bedrooms galore upstairs.” Left unspoken was the fact that every time she thought about having delivered her baby not simply in Luke’s house, but in his bed, an odd sensation stirred in the pit of her stomach. It was a sensation that wouldn’t bear too close a scrutiny.
Luke’s jaw took on the stubborn set that was a family trait. Erik had been equally bullheaded, his chin perpetually at the same defiant tilt. Yet Erik had been easily swayed, easily reasoned with. Luke, to the contrary, was no pushover.
“Jessie, you’ll stay downstairs for as long as you’re here,” he insisted. “You won’t have to climb stairs.”
“But I’ll be in your way,” she protested.
His gaze settled on her. “You won’t be in my way,” he said with soft emphasis. “This is the way I want it.”
She retreated from the argument she clearly had no way of winning. It was his house. She’d stay where he wanted her. “I’ll be going to my room, then.”
Before she could reach for her bags, Luke shot her a warning look, then picked them up and preceded her down the hall. Inside the room with its dark wood and masculine decor, he deposited the suitcases, then whirled to leave, practically colliding with her in his haste. Jessie’s hands immediately went out to steady herself, landing on his chest. Luke jerked as if he’d been brushed by a branding iron. Their gazes clashed, then caught.
“Sorry,” she murmured, pulling her hands away.
“Are you okay?”
“You just startled me when you turned around so fast. I stumbled a bit, that’s all.”
Luke shook his head ruefully. “I’m not used to having to watch out for other people underfoot. It’s one of the habits that comes from living alone. Well, not alone exactly. Consuela’s here, but she’s used to dodging me. To hear her tell it, I’ve got all the grace of a bull in a china shop. Did I tell you she went to visit her family in Mexico?”
Listening to him, Jessie couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Lucas, you’re babbling,” she teased. “Are you nervous for some reason?”
“Nervous?” he repeated the word as if he were testing it. “What would I have to be nervous about?”
“That’s what I was wondering. It’s not as if we’re strangers.” Jessie blushed despite herself. “Especially after last night.”
A dull red flush crept up Luke’s neck. “Maybe it would be best if we didn’t talk too much about last night.”
“But what you did for me…” She tried to think of the right words to express her gratitude.
“I did what anybody would have under the circumstances.”
“That’s not true. Luke, if you hadn’t been here, if you hadn’t been who you are…”
“Who I am? You mean Erik’s brother,” he said on an odd, flat note.
“No,” she said emphatically. “I mean the kind of man you are, completely unflappable, gentle, competent.” She trembled when she thought of the tragedy his presence and his calm, quick actions had averted. “My God, Luke, you delivered my daughter, and if you were even half as terrified as I was, you never let on to me.”
“Try three or four times as
terrified,” he corrected. “I just talked a good game.”
Jessie reached up and rested her hand against his stubbled cheek, felt a faint shudder whisper through him, saw his eyes darken. “Don’t joke,” she chided. “I’m serious. I’m trying to thank you properly for what you did, for bringing my baby safely into the world. I’ll never forget it.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” he said, brushing aside her gratitude.
“There is,” she insisted, trying to think of an adequate way of showing him how grateful she was. The perfect gesture suddenly came to her and she blurted it out impulsively, not pausing to think of the implications. “In fact, I would be honored if you would consider being Angela’s godfather. I know that’s what Erik would have wanted, too.”
Luke’s eyes turned cold and he broke away from her touch. “You’re wrong, if you think that,” he said flatly. “I’m the last man in the world Erik would want anywhere near you or your daughter.”
Too late, Jessie realized she couldn’t have shattered the quiet moment any more effectively if she’d tossed a live hand grenade into the room. By mentioning Erik, by reminding Luke of his brother, she had destroyed their fragile accord.
“Luke, that’s not true…” she began, but she was talking to herself. Luke had fled from the room as if he’d just been caught committing a crime and a posse of lawmen were after him, guns already blazing.
Troubled, Jessie stared after him. Not until she heard her daughter whimper did she move. Picking Angela up from her makeshift bed, a blanket-lined drawer, she paced the floor with her until she quieted.
“You know something, angel? Your Uncle Luke is a very complicated, perplexing man.”
No one knew more clearly than she did how dangerous those two traits could be in a man, especially for a woman who enjoyed nothing more than solving puzzles.
Chapter Five
There was a huge stack of unpaid bills on Luke’s desk. Normally he hated sitting there with a calculator, checking the totals against his own records, writing the checks, meticulously balancing the books. The process bored him. The mistakes irritated him. If he’d wanted to do this much math, he’d have been a damned accountant.
Tonight, though, the tedium of the assignment drew him. In fact, he hadn’t been able to leave that bedroom fast enough to get to his office and shut the door behind him. Only a vague sense of the absurdity of the action kept him from bolting it.
At any rate, as long as he had to concentrate on numbers written out in black and white, numbers that either added up or didn’t, he wouldn’t have to think about the woman in his bedroom who made no sense to him at all.
What had possessed Jessie to suggest that he be godfather to Angela? Couldn’t she see how inappropriate that was? Couldn’t she guess how deeply hurt the rest of the family would be over her choice? Hell, they probably wouldn’t even show up for the baptism. They’d be certain she’d placed the baby’s very soul in jeopardy by selecting her father’s killer as the baby’s godparent.
Okay, she was grateful for his help in delivering the baby. He could understand that. He didn’t think thanks were necessary, but if Jessie did, she could have found a dozen ways of thanking him that wouldn’t turn the entire family inside out. A framed snapshot of the baby would have sufficed. A dutiful note would have covered it.
Instead, with all the impulsiveness and generosity he’d always admired in her, she had made a grand gesture that would have ripped the family apart. They would have chosen sides. In the end, more than likely Jordan and Cody would have backed Jessie’s choice. His parents would have been appalled. Even he cared enough for the family’s feelings to want to avoid deliberately causing them any more anguish.
Fortunately, his head at least had been clear. He’d said no before she could get too carried away with her planning.
He raked his hand through his hair and muttered an oath under his breath. A tiny part of him regretted the necessity for declining her offer. Being godparent to the baby he’d helped deliver would have bound him to Jessie and Angela. It would have kept him on the fringes of their lives. It would have placed him where no one would have questioned his involvement, where he could watch out for them.
Where he could torture himself, he added bleakly. Saying no had been the right decision, the only decision.
Determinedly, he picked up the first invoice from the pile on his desk and went to work. Sometime between the first bill and the second, he fell soundly asleep. The next thing he knew it was morning and the very woman who’d been tormenting him in his dreams was hovering around in his office as if she belonged there.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked crankily, rubbing his aching shoulders as he eyed Jessie warily. For a woman who’d just had a baby less than forty-eight hours before, she was damned energetic. Normally he’d consider that an admirable trait, but at the moment it seemed a nuisance to have her bustling around as if he weren’t even there. “Jessie, whatever you’re up to, give it a rest.”
“I’m getting some light in here. It’s dark as pitch.” She drew back the draperies with a flick of her wrist, revealing the blinding glare of sunlight on snow.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked cheerfully. “I’ll be back in a minute with your breakfast. You really shouldn’t sleep at your desk, Lucas. It’s bad for your back.”
Given the fact that every muscle between his neck and his butt ached like the very dickens, Luke couldn’t argue with her. If she hadn’t taken off, though, he would have had a few things to say about her intrusion into his domain. He figured they could wait until she returned. If she brought strong, black coffee with her, he might even moderate his protest to a dull roar.
He stood up cautiously, testing to see if any of his parts actually worked. His legs held him upright, which was better than he deserved. He stretched carefully, slowly working the kinks loose. By the time he heard Jessie’s returning footsteps, he was feeling almost civilized. That didn’t mean he intended to tolerate her sudden burst of uninvited activity.
Unfortunately for his resolve, the aroma of coffee preceded her into the room. Oblivious to whatever order there might be to his desk, she brushed piles of papers aside and deposited a tray laden with pancakes, eggs, bacon and a pot of coffee. Luke glanced at the new disarray, considered bellowing in outrage, then took another whiff of that coffee and poured himself a cup instead. He sipped it gratefully as he sank back into his leather chair.
Maybe the bustling wasn’t so bad, after all. Only trouble now was, she didn’t go away. In fact, she seemed to be waiting for something. She hovered at the edge of his desk, her gaze fixed on him as if trying to determine how to broach whatever was on her mind.
“Coffee’s good,” he said, watching her uneasily. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll bring them back to the kitchen and wash up when I’m done,” he said, hoping she’d take the hint and leave.
She actually grinned at that. “Trying to get rid of me?” she inquired.
Almost as if to taunt him, she pulled up a chair and sat down. What astonished him was the fact that even though she was wearing her oversize maternity clothes, she managed to look as sexy as if she’d been wearing something slinky. His imagination was perfectly capable of envisioning every curve under her shapeless top. As if it might make a difference, he turned his attention to the food she’d brought. He poured syrup on the pancakes and cut into the eggs.
“I told you yesterday that I didn’t want you waiting on me,” he reminded her even as he took his first bite of pancakes. They were light as air. He knew for a fact that Consuela hadn’t left these, which meant Jessie had been cooking. “You need to rest. Taking care of a new baby is tiring. I want you concentrating on Angela.”
“Angela’s fine. She’s been fed. Now she’s sleeping. That’s what newborns do.”
He snapped a piece of crisp bacon into crumbs and prayed for patience. “So, rest while yo
u have the chance. Read a book. The library next door is filled with them.”
“Maybe later.”
He could see he was getting nowhere. Maybe if he divided up the chores and took the lion’s share himself, she’d restrict herself to doing only what she’d been assigned.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said. “I’ll fix breakfast and lunch. You can deal with supper, since Consuela already has those dishes prepared and ready to pop into the oven. I’ll clean up. Agreed?”
“That hardly sounds fair,” she said. “I’ll cook all the meals. You clean up.”
“No,” Luke insisted, his voice tight. “We’ll do it my way. And since you’ve already done breakfast today, I’ll handle dinner. You’re done for the day. Go take a nap.”
“I wonder why I never noticed before what a bully you are,” she commented, her expression thoughtful.
The observation didn’t seem to trouble her a bit, but he found it insulting. “I am not a bully. I’m just trying to divvy things up fairly.”
“You have an odd notion of fair,” she observed. “Oh, well, never mind. I won’t argue for the moment. Maybe you should consider the pancakes a bribe,” she suggested.
Luke’s gaze narrowed. “A bribe? For what?”
“So you’ll do what I want, of course.”
“Which is?”
She opened her mouth, seemed to reconsider, then closed it again. “No, I think we’ll wait and talk about it later. I think you could use a little more buttering up.” She stood and headed for the door.
Luke stared after her in astonishment. “Jessie!”
His bellow clearly caught her by surprise. She halted in the doorway and looked back. The glance she shot him couldn’t have been more innocent if she’d been a newborn baby.
“Yes?” she said.
“What kind of game are you playing here?”
A Christmas Blessing Page 5