by Shirley Wine
‘And just who taught me not to tolerate lollygaggers?’ Brooke responded with forced humour.
Otto laughed at their good-natured sparring, but Luke never so much as cracked a smile.
Be like that. See if I care!
Brooke studiously ignored the man as she walked beside her dad and left the house. As she drove away from Whitby Downs, her temper simmered over that summary dismissal. What had gotten Luke’s shorts in a twist? He had instigated their visit and insisted that they stay for lunch.
‘What was that all about, Buttercup?’
Brooke took her eyes off the winding road long enough to glance at her father. She knew that whatever that stroke had robbed her dad of, it certainly wasn’t his intellect or his powers of observation. ‘Being rushed out the door you mean?’
Her dad’s chuckle rumbled in the close confines of the car. ‘It seemed to me like that man had something worrisome on his mind.’
‘He’s an insufferable boor,’ she muttered, her white-knuckled hands strangling the steering wheel, ‘and blunt to the point of rudeness.’
Too late, Brooke regretted accepting Luke’s invitation to lunch. So why had she done so?
Because the man intrigues me, that’s why.
Brooke wished that uncomfortably honest inner voice would shut the hell up.
Undeterred by her caustic tone, her dad said, ‘Seems to me, the man froze us out after I mentioned you and the chess tournaments.’
Damn! So much for me hoping Dad wouldn’t make that connection.
‘It appears that way.’ Brooke heard rather than saw her father turn in his seat, and she silently willed herself not to betray any emotion.
‘So, what do you suppose Luke Calloway has heard about you and that chess tournament?’
Heat surged up her neck and into her face. ‘I don’t know,’ she said through her teeth. ‘And what’s more I really don’t care.’
Frank chuckled.
The sound grated on Brooke’s nerves and she bit down on her lower lip to prevent an unladylike retort escaping. Her father would be all over such a revealing reaction in a heartbeat.
Chapter Five
Luke stood on the verandah watching Brooke’s car disappear down the gravel farm road, a cloud of dust and pebbles spewing out from beneath the rear wheels as she accelerated away. Oh yeah, the lady was thoroughly aggravated. Cursing beneath his breath and raking a hand through his hair, he knew he’d slighted the one person he could least afford to offend.
I need her expertise and, more to the point, so do Otto and Rose.
The inquiry into Thornton’s drug dealing and subsequent suicide had exonerated Brooke, but just knowing that she’d been so closely associated with a cop gone bad was something Luke found difficult to stomach.
Where there’s smoke there’s always fire …
Luke tried to ignore the old saying but in this instance it seemed way too appropriate. Or had he spent far too many years dealing with low-life crims and learned the hard way that evil could lurk beneath even the most charming and seemingly innocent face?
Damn you, Olivia, get out of my mind.
The slow, uneven shuffle and thud of Otto’s crutches as the boy made his way outside onto the verandah penetrated Luke’s bleak thoughts. He turned to look at his nephew as the boy rested his weight against the rail.
‘What is it?’ Luke growled, growing increasingly uncomfortable under Otto’s unblinking gaze.
‘That was so rude, Uncle Luke.’
Discomfort scorched Luke.
Otto’s clear gaze and stern expression reminded Luke forcibly of his sister. Jenn used to give him a very similar look whenever he did something that she didn’t approve of. Luke’s heart stumbled as grief shafted through him. He missed Jenn all over again.
That Otto was right made Luke even more uncomfortable.
He had hustled Brooke and her father out of the house.
How can I explain to a kid that I’m attracted to a woman I’m afraid to trust?
The memory of another face surfaced, so guileless and innocent, and yet it concealed the black heart of a killer. Luke tried to shove the memory of Olivia aside, but it remained stubbornly persistent. Luke was afraid that should he implicitly trust Brooke, it could prove as disastrous as trusting Olivia had proved to be all those years ago. That error of judgement had almost cost him his life.
Brooke is not Olivia.
Maybe not, but Brooke was neither lily-white nor innocent. To his mind her association with Thornton was an indelible stain on her character.
‘Yeah well,’ Luke muttered, raking a hand through his hair, too aware the response was meaningless.
‘What did Brooke do to upset you?’
Luke winced.
There was no way he could admit to Otto that watching Brooke and Frank interact with him over a stupid board game had hurt, or that it had resurrected echoes of Luke’s own youthful follies. In one afternoon, Brooke and her father had lifted the shadows from the kid’s eyes—something, despite his best efforts, Luke had failed to do. And he was the person who’d given up his whole way of life to provide a home for his niece and nephew.
These emotions left Luke blind-sided. Jealousy and hurt mingled with rage. That such feelings were unwarranted did little to lessen their impact.
‘Why don’t you like Brooke?’
Otto’s incisive question, his voice an uncanny echo of his dad’s, only served to increase Luke’s unsettled emotions. Ian McLellan had never suffered fools. And this boy sure took after his dad and was already showing similar traits.
Luke struggled to answer Otto. Far from not liking Brooke, the lady stirred too many thoughts, most of which were decidedly x-rated, and this wasn’t something he was about to share with an eleven-year-old boy.
‘I have nothing against Brooke.’ Luke rested a hand on Otto’s shoulder. ‘After all, look at you, one therapy session with her and she’s managed to get you up on crutches.’
‘And it doesn’t hurt any that Brooke’s really pretty.’
Luke gulped and stared at his nephew. Oh I noticed this all right, but Otto? Good Lord, the boy’s only eleven!
‘What?’ Otto glared at Luke, his tone decidedly belligerent. ‘You think I can’t see that she’s, like, stacked?’
‘I’m not questioning your powers of observation, but that is not how any gentleman talks about a lady.’
Talk about hypocrisy! I sure as hell noticed that the lady has a more than decent rack.
A dull, painful red flooded Otto’s face. He shrugged off Luke’s hand, turned away and thumped his way down the verandah. Luke caught up with him in two strides, put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned the boy towards him. ‘What is it?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It most definitely does, so spit it out.’
Otto shrugged, his bony shoulders almost reaching his ears. ‘I guess I’ll always be stuck with these things and Rose won’t ever get to use her bad arm again. Did you know that Brooke managed to get Rose to squeeze a soft ball and move her fingers?’
He hadn’t known, but judging from Otto’s expression the boy thought that this was nothing short of a miracle. It was clear to him that Otto thought Brooke could walk on water. ‘What makes you think she won’t continue with your physical therapy?’
‘Duh.’ Otto gave him a disgusted look.
‘And what exactly does that mean?’
Otto glared at him, his expression suggesting that Luke was more than dense. ‘It’s not like Brooke will want to come back after the way you ran her off.’
Relief, hope and anger vied with shame as he looked into the boy’s troubled face; Luke needed to clear his throat before he could speak. ‘Brooke will come back; I’ll make sure of it.’
Even if I have to eat crow, feathers and all.
‘You think?’
‘I know.’ He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. ‘And I promise that you’ll walk without crutches and Rose will be able to use
her injured arm to paint.’
As he made the promises, Luke could only hope that these were undertakings he could deliver on.
***
‘Can you spare me a few minutes, Luke?’
Walking along the Whitby homestead’s wide verandah towards the farm office, the summons halted Luke mid-stride. He turned to face his boss’s wife. Suddenly wary, he noted the way she held her office door open. Her expression was unmistakable. He was being summoned to enter.
And I’m already running late to brief Matt before the staff meeting.
‘Don’t worry—’ Charlotte smiled at him, ‘—I’ve cleared this meeting with Matt.’
Luke scowled, chagrined that she could so easily discern his hesitation.
‘Take a seat.’
Luke obeyed. She had an air of authority that people seldom challenged, and one Luke wasn’t prepared to test. He removed his hat and held it clasped between sweaty palms as he perched on the edge of the chair.
Charlotte stepped behind the massive oak desk, her slender figure dwarfed as she sat in the equally large chair behind it. She picked up the pen lying beside the wide blotter sitting square in the centre of a desk devoid of clutter. Every movement indicative of the shrewd businesswoman that Luke knew she was. He’d worked alongside this woman on the station, and he admired her. She possessed a work ethic second to none. After her father’s sudden death, with minimal help, she had singlehandedly kept the wheels of Whitby Downs station turning—no mean feat.
What on earth does Charlotte want with me? Luke swallowed hard and nerves balled in his belly.
‘Sofia approached me yesterday about your niece.’
Suddenly, Charlotte had his full attention. He stiffened but could read nothing from her expression. ‘What about Rose?’ He managed to get the words past a throat as dry as the parched landscape outside.
Would Sofia take her resentment of me out on Rose?
Bile stung the back of his throat.
Charlotte fiddled with the pen before looking directly at him. ‘When Rose is up here she is constantly scrounging food from Sofia.’
A lead ball of shame, embarrassment and fear sat heavily in his gut. ‘Look, I’m sorry about this. I’ll have a word with Rose.’
‘Don’t!’ she said sharply. ‘Food is not the issue. The only reason I’m bringing this to your attention is because Sofia and I are seriously concerned about the girl.’
Luke ran a finger under the collar of his flannel work shirt and shifted in his chair. Failure stared him in the face. What with Duncan McLellan’s threats, Brooke’s observations and now Charlotte’s, Luke fully expected to find Child Protection Services on his doorstep any time soon.
Is my job on the line too?
‘Rose is far too thin,’ he said, the admission sticking in his throat. ‘She merely pokes at her food. And yes, I’ve noticed, and I’m just as concerned. The children’s physiotherapist has also taken pains to ensure that I understand the seriousness of Rose’s situation.’
Charlotte leaned across the desk towards him, her hands clasped together on the blotter pad. ‘You need a competent housekeeper and cook.’
You don’t need to hit me on the head. I can read the subtext, lady.
Was she his boss’s emissary? Had Matt asked her to let him know that his domestic disorder was impacting on Luke’s position as foreman of Whitby Downs?
‘I am aware of this.’ It was a struggle, but he managed to keep his voice even, although his sweaty hands continued to mangle the brim of his hat. ‘Finding one is difficult and the two I’ve hired so far have both been disasters.’
The boss lady’s eyes softened. ‘So I gather.’
‘Brooke suggested that you may be able to tee me up with the CWI housekeeping service, she suggested that they may have a suitable mature woman willing to housekeep for us.’
Charlotte picked up her fountain pen and ran it through her fingers before drilling him with a stern look. ‘Would you object to a man?’
A man? Employing a male housekeeper had not occurred to Luke, but if a decent one was available, why not? ‘Not if he’s capable of cooking and keeping house.’
‘Then I may have an answer to your problem.’
Luke struggled not to squirm under her assessing gaze. It was a reminder, if he needed one, that this woman’s backbone was pure steel. ‘I’m more than grateful for any assistance in finding reliable domestic help. Who is the man? What do you know about him?’
When Charlotte smiled, Luke’s anxiety eased.
‘Rio Jacobs, a stablehand of Logan Sinclair’s. He’s retiring because of a flare-up of an old injury, so he’s looking for a position with lighter duties than he has at the stables. I’m given to understand that he’s also a capable cook.’
Luke frowned as suspicion crowded in on him. That this was an indelible mark of years spent working undercover, he knew full well, but he’d learned not to ignore gut feelings, or to trust blindly. ‘Jacobs worked for Logan?’
Charlotte’s steady gaze didn’t waver. ‘Rio has worked for Logan and his step-father before him at Darkhaven Stables for more than twenty years.’
‘And this old guy can cook? And how did Sinclair know I was looking for a housekeeper, anyway?’
‘Matt and Logan were talking and when Matt mentioned your domestic difficulties, Logan recommended Rio, and yes he can cook.’ Charlotte gave him a level look. ‘And Rio’s not that old. He’s in his middle fifties.’
‘Why is he leaving Darkhaven?’ Luke knew he sounded suspicious, but Lord help him, he was responsible for two vulnerable children who depended on him to make the right decisions.
How would Rose react if he employed a male housekeeper? To Luke’s mind, his niece was already outnumbered, and adding another male to their household would not change this, but make the gender imbalance worse. Luke frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing he held the power to clearly see the future.
‘I told you,’ Charlotte said quietly. ‘Because of an old injury, Jacobs now finds it impossible to keep up with the demands of stable work, even on light duties.’
Luke nodded; this he could understand. Working with horses, particularly the highly strung thoroughbreds Sinclair had in his stables, was demanding and heavy work.
‘Have Jacobs contact me and set up an interview,’ Luke said, raising his voice to be heard over the thunder of booted feet on the verandah. ‘I need to go or Matt will have my head if I’m late for the staff meeting.’
He rose at Charlotte’s nod of dismissal, but paused with one hand on the doorknob. ‘Just so you know, I’m also deeply concerned about Rose.’
‘It didn’t occur to me to think otherwise.’ She walked around her desk and paused beside him. ‘Matt and I applaud you for making a home for those two kids. Instant parenting, as you’ve no doubt discovered, is darn hard work.’
The kind words eased some of Luke’s coiled tension. ‘It is, and I do appreciate your understanding.’
‘We care about you all, Luke, the same as we care about everyone who works for us here on Whitby. We are all one big family, and families help each other.’ Charlotte’s smile went a long way to warming the chill worry had settled around his heart.
‘And this is an aspect of country life that’s a welcome change,’ Luke said with genuine feeling. ‘Thank you for your help.’
With a nod, Luke strode out, along the verandah and into the farm office to join the rest of the crew, his mind still on that unsettling interview.
***
‘Ian’s children are McLellans.’ The emphasis Duncan McLellan put on these words made Luke clench his teeth to prevent a lurid curse from spewing out. With blithe unconcern, the older man continued his rant. ‘Rose’s and Otto’s place is with us, Calloway, not with some washed-up ex-cop with an unsavoury past.’
Before Luke could respond the call disconnected. He pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it in disbelief. McLellan hung up on me.
The irritating bu
zzing of the line penetrated his stupefied senses and he slammed down the receiver. He clamped fingers over the bridge of his nose, but this didn’t stop the sensation that his life was spiralling out of control.
A washed-up ex-cop? An unsavoury past? What the hell was that all about?
A custody suit was all that he needed. How had his life gone to hell in a handbasket so quickly? The struggle to hold everything together was proving to be one hell of a lot more difficult than he’d ever imagined.
‘Over my dead body will you gain custody of my only remaining family, old man.’ Luke swore luridly under his breath.
McLellan’s threat echoed in his ears.
Luke needed to see Otto and Rose, to see for himself that they were safe and happy.
He strode down the main corridor of the expansive homestead, prey to a devastating sense of powerlessness. A similar emotion had gripped him the night he’d taken that God-awful phone call informing him of the wreck and the death of his brother-in-law. And in the ensuing hellish days he’d spent at Jenn’s bedside, it had assumed overwhelming proportions. Despite all his prayers and bargaining with God, his sister had succumbed to her injuries.
In the bleak aftermath, Luke had buried his sister and her beloved husband. He’d done his best to support and comfort their injured children, but more often than not, he found himself floundering as if he was treading in quicksand. And all the while, he was aware of Ian’s parents’ cold, unrelenting hostility.
If Duncan and Margaret McLellan had never considered Jenn Calloway a fitting wife for their only son, they sure as hell did not regard her brother as a fit person to raise their grandchildren. Now they’d given notice that they intended to challenge Luke’s guardianship of his niece and nephew.
With his domestic situation in a shambles, his niece looking so frail a puff of wind could blow her away, Luke was terrified that they may well succeed.
You can’t prevent Ian’s parents visiting their grandchildren … Brooke’s words reverberated in time with his footsteps.
Maybe she was right, but he intended to make darn sure Rose and Otto were never left alone with them. The two youngsters were already dealing with more than any children their ages should ever have to. They did not need their grandparents heaping misplaced guilt on their young and vulnerable shoulders.