A Family for the Rugged Rancher

by Donna Alward

  Emily appeared at the dining-room door, smiling but he could see she was nervous underneath the cheerful exterior. “You’re back. Did you finish?”

  “Just.” He turned his head towards the door. “You took down the baskets.”

  “Hard to miss that change in the air. I hope it’s not bad. I’d hate for hail to take out the garden. Everything’s just starting to come along. Not to mention crops. Do you think it’ll be bad, Luke?”

  He shrugged. “I hope not, but it’s out of my hands. The hay’s baled and the horses are in. That’s about all I can do. Maybe it’ll miss us altogether.”

  The tension left her face at his reassurances. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be in. I made you a sandwich and put it in the fridge.”

  Luke knew Emily had never been a farm wife, so how was it she seemed to know exactly what he needed and when? He washed his hands and sank into a chair as exhaustion finally crept in now that he’d stopped. He’d been going flat-out for days now and not sleeping well at night. He hadn’t visited his father in two weeks and felt guilty about it. He thought of Emily far too often and felt guilty about that as well. There was nothing to do right at this moment, though, and it all seemed to catch up with him. He drank a full glass of cool, reviving water before biting into the thick sandwich of sliced ham and cheese. As he swallowed the last bite, she quietly put a slice of rhubarb pie at his elbow.

  “Thank you, Emily.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance, and the leaves of the poplars twisted in the breeze. He took his dirty dishes to the sink. The hot breeze from the open window hit him in the face. He closed his eyes.

  “Hey, Em? I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”

  She came to the door, holding a red crayon in her hand. “Are you feeling all right?”

  He smiled. “Just tired. It’s this heat. It just saps you.”

  “Okay.”

  He went to the living room and sank on to the plush cushions of the sofa, hanging his stocking feet over the arm. He closed his eyes. He’d get up in a few minutes, a short break was all he needed. His breaths deepened as he thought of all the little things Emily did, lifting his burdens and doing it with a smile. She had made the house like a home again, with voices and laughter and delicious smells.

  It was just like it used to be, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Like when Dad came in from a tough day and Mom met him with a kiss and a cup of coffee…

  Emily heard the deep breaths coming from the living room and her hand paused, the crayon a few inches from the paper. Luke was plain worn out. She’d seen it in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the tired way he’d sunk into his chair in the kitchen. She watched Sam color a comic-book character in his coloring book and exhaled, wishing the sultry air would clear. It was close, suffocating. The leaves on the trees tossed and turned now, restless in the wind coming before the storm. The weather was as unsettled as she was. Calm on the surface but churning inside.

  Emily paced a few minutes, coming to stop at the door to the living room. She looked down at Luke’s face, relaxed in sleep. The scowl he wore so often was gone and his lips were open just the tiniest bit. He had long eyelashes for a man. She hadn’t realized it before, but watching him sleep gave her the chance to really examine his face. He snuffled and turned his head, revealing a tiny scar just behind his left ear.

  How could she make it through two more months of this if she already felt the tugs of attraction after a handful of days? There had been no repeats of the kissing scene. Not even a glance or small touch. And still he was on her mind constantly. When she lay in bed listening to the frogs or when she was mixing up batter or taking clothes off the line. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, remembering what it was like to feel desirable. To feel her own longings, emotions she’d thought quite dead and buried. She was starting to trust Luke. The world was not full of Robs. Deep down she’d always known it, but it was easier to think that than to face the truth.

  Emily swallowed. A cold puff of air came through the windows, the chill surprising her. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. She hadn’t been enough to make Rob happy, and she wasn’t sure she could survive failing again. She was tired of apologizing for it. He had been selfish leaving when they might have worked it out. He hadn’t appreciated what he had…and now she looked down at Luke. Luke, who was so handsome he took her breath away. Luke, who had kissed her in the kitchen with his wide, strong hands framing her face and who said thank you for everything.

  She turned away from Luke’s sleeping form. It was impossible she was even thinking such a thing. She shook her head. Didn’t she need to get Sam settled and her life in order first? Of course she did. She couldn’t lose sight of the goal. Self-reliance came first. She’d made a promise to herself and she meant to keep it. And a promise to Sam. To even think of indulging herself in what—an affair? Luke wasn’t interested in a relationship. In kids. He’d made it clear when he’d talked to her about what she was going to do when she left the ranch. Even entertaining the idea was selfish—thinking of herself rather than of what was best for Sam in the long run.

  Emily had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the room growing dark. What had been distant rumbling was now persistent, grumbling rolls of thunder. A flash went through the room, like a distant camera flash, and seconds later the thunder followed. She hurried to check on Sam, who had put down his crayons and stared at her with wide eyes.

  “Boomers comin’?”

  “I think so, honey.”

  Sam’s dark eyes clouded with uncertainty. Her boy tried to be brave and strong, but she knew he hated thunderstorms. “Don’t worry, okay? We’re snug as a bug here.”

  Sam slid from his chair as another flash of lightning speared the sky. “I need to close the windows, Sam. It’s starting to rain and I don’t want things to get wet. You can come with me if you want.”

  But he shook his head, his hair flopping. “I’ll stay here. I don’t wanna go upstairs. Hurry back, Mommy.”

  Emily darted from room to room, shutting windows against the angry raindrops beginning to fall. Upstairs in Luke’s room, the window stuck. She pushed down on the slider, making progress, but only in half-inch increments. The wind blew back the curtains, twisting them in her face as she struggled with the swollen window frame.

  Just as it slid into the groove a fork of lightning jutted out of the sky, lighting up the whole house—followed by an astounding, foundation-shaking blast of thunder. The burst was so violent her heart seemed to leap and shudder before settling again into a quick, shocked rhythm.

  She heard Sam scream and raced out of Luke’s room to the stairs. She skidded into the dining room—no Sam. Emily pushed a hand through her hair, forcing her breath to calm. The bang had frightened her, too. “Sam?” she called, as another lightning strike and clap of thunder reverberated through the house.

  “In here.”

  Luke’s gravelly voice answered her from the living room.

  She found them huddled together in a great walnut rocking chair. Luke’s feet were planted square on the floor, and a terrified Sam was cradled in his arms, his bare feet resting on Luke’s thigh as he curled up in Luke’s lap. The strong arms she couldn’t forget being around her now circled her son securely and the chair rocked ever so slightly.

  The sight did something to her heart. It confirmed what she’d sensed at the beginning—Luke was a good, caring man hidden by a crusty exterior. He wasn’t telling Sam that being afraid was silly or making him buck up, that it was only a little storm. He was simply holding him, comforting him. Rain started coming down in torrents now, hammering on the roof and windows so loudly it made a vibrating hum. Luke’s gaze met hers, calm and accepting. Whether or not it made sense, Emily knew in that moment that this was where they were meant to be. This was where they would both put themselves back together before moving on.

  “Sam,” she s
aid gently, “Mommy’s here now. It’s okay.”

  The storm raged around them, echoing through the house. Sam shook his head and only burrowed deeper into Luke’s shirt.

  “It’s okay, Emily. He’s fine where he is.”

  Had she really accused Luke of not liking children? The way he held Sam was strong and caring and sent a slice through her heart as sharp as a fork of lightning. Had Sam been missing the presence of a man in his life? At first she had thought it was just Rob he missed. But she could tell he missed having a man to look up to.

  She knew after a year of struggling that she could do this on her own. But there was something about having Luke in her life right now that somehow divided the burden.

  A terrific crash sounded, not thunder but sharper and harder, and Emily sank into a nearby chair, her hands shaking. Lightning had hit something and she didn’t have the courage to peer out the window and see what. She heard Luke murmur something reassuring to Sam as his toe kept the chair in motion, rocking and soothing. Her son whom she loved more than life itself. And the man who was proving that the shell she’d built around her heart wasn’t as tough as she thought.

  At the same time, the house went strangely quiet as the power went out. The fridge stopped its constant hum and the clock on the DVD player went dark.

  “Looks like we’ll be grilling tonight,” Luke said easily.

  After several minutes the storm made its way east. Emily looked over at Sam. His head had drooped and Luke smiled. “He fell asleep about five minutes ago,” Luke said.

  “I can move him…”

  “Leave him. He’s comfortable.”

  He had to stop being so nice. It only made things more impossible. “Luke…surely you can see the problem. He already trusts you…”

  “If he does, why can’t you?”

  “It’s not that simple.” She kept her voice a low murmur, needing Sam to stay asleep. “What happens in August when we have to leave, Luke? When he has to say goodbye to you? And this ranch? If he gets too attached, how can I pull him away? How can I do that to him again?”

  “He’s a smart kid. He knows this is temporary…”

  “He’s only five.” She dug her fingers into the arm of the chair.

  “He already loves being here,” Luke argued. “So whether you go now or in a few months, you may have that to deal with anyway.” He gave her a knowing look. “Or are we not talking about Sam here? I think it’s you. You don’t want to get attached to this place. Because you like it here.”

  “Of course I do…”

  “And saying goodbye will be…”

  She imagined driving away and watching Luke get smaller in her rearview mirror. After only a few days, she knew she’d miss him.

  “I’m a big girl. I know how the world works.”

  “You sure do.”

  Sam let out a delicate snore. Luke’s lips curved and then he lifted his head, sharing the smile with Emily.

  Something clicked inside her. Suddenly it wasn’t about protecting her heart from Luke anymore. He’d already breached the walls. She was in perilous danger of caring for him, truly and deeply caring.

  She sat for a few moments, wanting to snatch Sam away from the security of Luke’s arms, knowing it was foolish and petty. She should have foreseen she’d get in too deep.

  But this job could give her the start she needed. She only had to keep the goal firm in her mind—a temporary retreat to regroup and then move forward. If she did that, it would all be fine.

  She would enjoy every blessed minute she could, she decided. She’d be here when the beans ripened and the pea pods popped in the sunshine. Sam could maybe go for that horseback ride—maybe they both would. She could spend an hour on the porch with a paperback while Sam played.

  When she looked back at Luke, his lips had dropped open as he dozed off, too. Seeing them sleeping together made her feel as though she was losing Sam, even as her head told her it was a ridiculous thought.

  She had spent months worrying about the lack of a male influence in Sam’s life. Now that he had it, she wasn’t sure she could resist the man—the real live cowboy, as Sam put it—who was putting stars in both their eyes.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FOR THE NEXT week Emily, Sam and Luke settled into a routine. Luke spent his days working the fields and Emily did the hottest work in the mornings. In the afternoon she ran errands or took time out to play with Sam, roaming the extensive yard looking for wildflowers and animal tracks. Luke made an effort to arrive for dinner and they all ate together. And as the sun sank below the prairie, Emily listened to the peepers and the breeze through the open windows of her bedroom. Luke was right next door and often she lay awake at night knowing the head of his bed was only a wall away. What was he thinking as his head lay on the pillow? There was a sense of comfort that came from knowing he was so close, but she wondered what to do with the attraction that kept simmering between them.

  Because it was simmering. He hadn’t touched her again. There hadn’t been any more kisses. But the memory of the first kiss always seemed to hover between them, and every time she looked at him she felt the same jolt running from her heart down to the soles of her feet. It stood between them like an unanswered question. The only thing Emily could do was focus on her job. Feelings, attraction…it was all secondary right now. She had to keep her eye on the prize—self-reliance. She would need Luke’s recommendation when she went job-hunting at the end of the summer, and she wouldn’t do anything foolish to jeopardize it.

  One mild evening Luke took Sam for a walk around the corral on Bunny’s back, getting him used to the feel of the horse before letting Sam take the reins himself. After that, Sam was permanently smitten with both Luke and with the mare. It was all he talked about as he helped in the garden or dried the dishes, standing on a stepstool. He visited with Liz’s twins one afternoon while Emily shopped for groceries. Emily had a look at the old record player and thought she might have a go at fixing it up. The cabinet was filled with old LPs. What would it be like to hear the scratchy albums again?

  They all slipped into the routine so easily that it felt, to Emily at least, a little too real.

  Then Luke came home with Homer.

  At first Emily just heard the barking and she wrinkled her brow. Had a neighbor’s dog strayed into the yard? Her heart set up a pattering, as she knew Sam would be paralyzed with fear. He’d never quite gotten over his fear of dogs since he’d nearly been attacked. She dried her hands on a tea towel and headed for the door.

  Sam was making a beeline for the porch, his normally flushed cheeks pale. Emily scooped him up as Luke approached, holding a leash in his hand attached to a brown-and-white dog that limped behind.

  Luke paused several feet away from the steps. Sam was clearly afraid of the new pup. It showed in the pallor of his face and how he clung to his mother.

  “Sam, this is Homer.”

  No response. Luke’s heart sank. He’d seen the dog weeks ago and had fallen in love. Oh, he knew that sounded ludicrous, but he had a soft spot for dogs and especially one like Homer, who needed a home so badly. But Homer had been in no shape to be adopted and in the hectic pace of haying season, it had gone to the back of Luke’s mind. Until the veterinarian had called a few days ago. Luke had thought of Sam, too. He’d thought Homer could be a playmate. He hadn’t thought about the boy being afraid.

  “You don’t have anything to fear from Homer,” Luke said easily. He put his hand on Homer’s back and the dog sat, his tongue hanging out happily. “He’s the gentlest dog you’ll ever meet.”

  Sam shook his head and clung to Emily even tighter. Luke noticed the shine of tears in her eyes and resisted the urge to sigh. He had to help the boy. Had to show him he didn’t need to be afraid. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that it was important to help Sam overcome this hurdle. Maybe because he saw in Sam’s eyes what he’d seen too often in his own—knowledge and understanding. Even at such a young age, Sam had been hurt and had grow
n—painfully—because of it. Luke couldn’t fix that. But maybe he could make this better.

  “We had an incident in the park last year,” Emily said quietly. “Someone had their dog off leash and it started to go at Sam. I reached out and grabbed its collar.” She looked down at Luke with liquid chocolate eyes. “He’s been terrified ever since.”

  Homer whined and Luke heard distressed sounds coming from Sam’s throat.

  “Homer, hush.”

  Luke gave the firm order and the dog immediately quieted. He squatted down and put his hand on the brown-and-white fur. “Stay.” He dropped the leash. Then he stood, went to Emily, reached out and touched Sam’s back.

  “Look at him now, Sam. Harmless as a flea.” He spoke softly to the boy, knowing a gentle and steady touch was required. Sam obediently turned his head and looked at the mutt, whose tongue was hanging out in happy bliss as he panted.

  Luke couldn’t accomplish putting Sam at ease while he had a death grip on his mother. “Come here, buddy,” he said, and he lifted Sam right out of her arms and settled him on his hip. He half expected Sam to cry and reach for Emily, but he didn’t. Knowing Sam trusted him did something to Luke’s insides, something warm and expansive. Luke pointed at the dog. “Do you know what’s special about Homer?”

  Sam shook his head.

  Luke looked over at Emily and smiled, hoping to thaw the icy wall that had suddenly formed around her. “Homer had an accident a while back. He’s been at the vet’s, because he was a stray and no one claimed him. A few weeks ago he was still wrapped up in bandages. You never saw a sorrier sight than that dog. He didn’t even bark. He just looked up at me with his big, sad eyes.”