An hour later she wasn't so sure. Gordie was bored. He let her know by whining. The kitchen was a shambles. Rachel felt as if she'd just been through an aerobic workout herself without enjoying any of the benefits. In the oven she had a couple of pork chops, which if they cooperated, would be dinner. Left over potato salad would accompany it. She stared around her. Such a big mess for one meal.
Gordie began to cry in earnest. Abandoning the thought of cleaning the kitchen temporarily, Rachel picked him up and hugged him. He was soaked through.
"Oh dear!" Evidently her diapering skills were on the same level as her culinary skills.
Gordie seemed to agree. He started yelling his little head off.
Suddenly Luke was there, relieving her of the angry baby. He pulled his arm out from under Gordie and looked a little startled at the wet patch on his sleeve, but all he said was, "I'll fix him up in a jiffy. Why don't you put your feet up for a little while?"
He was gone before she could protest that she would change Gordie. Not that she wanted to. Those diapers seemed to sense she couldn't fasten them right. Life seemed very difficult all of a sudden. Rachel's chin wobbled as a sense of failure flooded her.
An acrid smell had her rushing to the oven. Grabbing a mitt but not bothering to slip her hand into it, she pulled out the tray.
"Ouch!" She had got too close to the heating element at the top of the oven. Thumping the tray down on the counter, she rushed over to the tap and ran cold water over her left hand. Behind her two blackened blobs rested in a pan that would need a month of scouring to get it back to Hannah's standard of clean. She must have set the oven too high. Her hand smarted and two tears escaped and rolled down her face. Tossing the chops into the garbage she replaced the tray and slammed the oven door shut. Could one make sandwiches with potato salad?
Luke re-entered the kitchen in a clean shirt, with a fresh smelling baby who was all smiles again. Tactfully he ignored the acrid smell of smoke and her flushed face as he took out two jars of baby food and placed them in the microwave.
"I've burnt the dinner." The belligerent tone reminded him of a Chihuahua in a corner.
"There's pizza in the freezer," Luke returned quietly. "I'll heat it up as soon as Gordie finishes eating."
Ignoring the chaos around him he began to feed Gordie a baby concoction of ham and peas. It wasn't till he heard the door of Rachel's room shut behind her did he allow himself a sweeping glance of the kitchen.
A half smile on his lips he said to Gordie. "Better not get her a cookbook for Christmas, champ."
CHAPTER 6
After Gordie was settled for the night, Luke lit a fire in the family room fireplace.
There was no sign of Rachel. He wondered if she had opted for one of her long baths. It was her one pastime that amused everyone. After dinner one evening, Hannah had asked her if she'd like to watch a popular night time soap with her. Rachel had hesitated and then said, "If you don't mind, I'd rather take a bath."
He had thrown her into the deep end today. She had surprised him again with her ability to cope, her quiet maturity. There had been quite a few rough spots. His gut tightened as he thought of her woebegone expression when he had pulled his sleeve out from under a soaking wet Gordie. And that dinner. He hadn't thought she would attempt to cook anything. Hannah always kept the freezer stocked with pre-cooked meals, and he really should have said something about it.
Luke looked up to see the object of his thoughts standing in the doorway dressed in a multi-colored wrap around skirt and a soft white blouse with a scooped neckline that exposed the vulnerable hollows at the base of her throat. Her hair was scooped back in its usual knot, the damp tendrils that nestled against her neck lingering evidence of a shower. The stamp of uncertainty was back on her face...as if without Gordie or Hannah there to hide behind she was lost.
Luke's mouth tightened again. How long was it going to take to earn her trust?
"Would you like something to drink, Rae?"
Her eyes flickered as she looked at the glass of amber fluid in his hand. "No...no thank you."
"Come, sit down. The pizza will be ready in five minutes. I called Hannah and she's doing fine."
"I'm glad." Rachel advanced into the room, sat down in an armchair, picked up a cushion and hugged it to her slight frame. "How old is Hannah?"
"Fifty. She’s been with us since her teens"
"She looks younger and has so much energy. She makes everything look so easy." The wistfulness wasn't lost on Luke.
"You did just great today."
The crimson tide that stole up her face amazed Luke. Surely, he thought, she knows how good she is. If the way she had stepped in and handled everything was any indication of how she worked someone had to have told Rachel Carstairs she was worth her weight in gold.
He watched as she twisted her fingers together and then said deliberately, "You're so good with Gordie. I'm amazed at the way he's taken to you. He's beginning to recognize people and fusses with strangers after a few minutes but every time I looked in on the two of you, you were getting on famously. I never expected to get so much work done today. Thank you Rae."
She lifted her head quickly and he caught the reflection of the fire in the sheen of her tears. Leaning forward Luke reached for her. He couldn't deny himself the comfort he wanted to offer her any longer.
The timer went off in the kitchen and she jumped up. "I'll set the table."
Watching her scurry away he could tell the charged atmosphere between them made Rae very uneasy.
"Let's eat in here. It's nicer by the fire," Luke called after her.
Rachel paused and looked back over one shoulder. It was nicer by the fire. Too nice.
Her heart's usually even rhythm had changed to staccato. Luke looked different tonight. His stone washed jeans and soft blue shirt seemed to be molded to his frame. Seated on the floor, long legs stretched out in front of him he looked absolutely relaxed. The fire glinted off his face etching the strong lines in gold. His eyes sparkled with intent, the look in them both scaring and exciting her.
It had to be the fire that instilled so much excitement into the atmosphere, cloaking the normally cheery room with enchantment and mystery. The orange flames cast exotic patterns on the weathered grey stone and the whole room looked different in its glow.
Did he know she had never been in a situation like this ever before? That every moment seemed tinged with magic? Swallowing hard Rachel carried the plates to the coffee table and prepared to go back for the rest.
Luke's hand on her shoulder made her jump. His command was as strong as it was soft. "Sit. Relax. I'll get the rest of the stuff."
She'd been touched before. Often. But only contact with this man produced the electricity that left her witless. Rachel sank on to a cushion, refusing to look up when he returned with the glasses, set them down, and went back for the pizza.
Sitting down across from her Luke picked up the piece of pizza she served him and bit into it, ignoring the cutlery. "It's good." The obvious satisfaction in his tone after the first bite drew no visible response from her.
Rachel pretended to be absorbed by the fire, while every nerve ending in her body danced in awareness of Luke. He reached for the hot peppers and his arm brushed against hers, searing her skin.
"Do you like the pizza?" Luke wondered what had happened now. If it was a normal companionable silence he would have left it alone. But it wasn't. Tension emanated from her...as uncomfortable as steel wool under one's skin.
"I haven't had pizza for ages, but it tastes wonderful."
She was playing with her piece, the mechanical motions of her jaw belying her words.
"If you don't like it, say so, and I can fix you an omelet." Luke put his hand on hers to stop her lifting the slice to her mouth. The cry of pain startled him as much as it did her.
"What is it?"
Rachel's hand was behind her back. Like a child her rounded eyes relayed a distracting measure of fear and gui
lt. Gordie looked like that when he found something he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to play with. Gently Luke grasped her arm and brought the hand out. The sharpness of his indrawn breath spliced the tense silence hovering around them. Three angry purple welts marred the softness of the skin on the back of her hand.
"When did this happen?"
Her hand seemed to shrink inside his as if wanting to minimize the area of contact.
"Earlier today." The rasp was back in her voice. "It's nothing. I wasn't paying attention."
Why on earth was she looking like a whipped dog?
"The oven," Luke surmised correctly. "Dinner. That's how you got burnt wasn't it?"
"Yes. It's nothing," Rachel said quickly. "I'm just not used to the oven. I was clumsy."
And he had assumed that she could handle anything. Cursing his preoccupation with his work he demanded, "Have you put anything on it?"
"I ran some cold water over it."
"That's why you don't have any blisters I guess, but you need something for the pain."
Disappearing into the bathroom, he returned with a tube. Cradling her hand in his, he smoothed the cream over the area. Rachel stared at her hand. It was lost in Luke's large one. For all its size his touch was gentle. She had to fight the urge to raise his hand and bury her face in it.
"Let Theresa fix the evening meals in future."
How could he have let her struggle with dinner? He should have mentioned the pizza earlier. Luke didn't realize the anger he felt at himself had escaped into his voice.
“I'm sorry to be such a nuisance." The crack in her voice jerked his head up. Her chin wobbled but evidently she hadn't finished what she wanted to say. Her laugh, meant he supposed to be self-deprecatory, hurt like whiskey poured on a wound. "I'm a klutz in the kitchen. I think I've ruined a baking pan. It will be easier all around if I don't attempt to develop my culinary talents at your expense."
Luke looked down at the bent head. It was either that or let her see the blaze of fury in his eyes. Who or what had given Rachel such an inferiority complex? Right now he would give away one of his thoroughbred stallions, for a few moments with the person responsible for her insecurities.
"I don't give a damn about the expense," he said brusquely, "just about your well being." Luke couldn't help the sternness in his voice. Any minute now he was going to abandon convincing her with words and kiss some sense into her. "You can burn every pan in the kitchen if it makes you happy, but the next time you're hurt I want to know right away. Understood?" A hand tipped her chin up.
Her eyes glistening Rachel looked into the flame warmed navy depths at odds with the stern set of Luke's mouth. He sounded strange. As if he had a right to say what he just had...as if he cared. A solitary silver tear overflowed. Luke's thumb caught it, swept it aside.
Rachel's chin wobbled but she held his gaze. "I'm afraid I'm not good at anything except relief work."
"Nobody's perfect," he said brusquely. "I bet not one of us on the Diamond Bar can do the kind of work you're an expert at. I've seen strong men pass out at the sight of blood."
She smiled but he saw the ‘you-don't have-to say-things-like-this’ look in her eyes. She thought he was just being kind? For the first time in his life Luke understood frazzled.
The silence lengthened and Rachel was aware of time stilled for something important. Was Luke going to lecture her on her responsibility to herself? The man had plenty to do without having to take care of her as well. Hannah had shown her the medicine cabinet. She should have tended to her own hand instead of coming across as a helpless female again.
Luke cupped her face in his large warm hands and her startled gaze flew to his. "Listen to me, Rae," he said seriously. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone here. That includes me. No one expects Superwoman. We like you just the way you are."
The world receded as he filled her senses. The touch of his mouth was like a butterfly caress at first. It skimmed her lips, then hovered and finally settled. After the first start of surprise Rachel relaxed, giving in to the warm undertow. Luke's gentle siege parted her lips, made her want more. She pressed herself into the solid wall of his chest and was held as if she'd finally come home.
Time raced on, unnoticed.
Rachel didn't hear the soft tap on the door. She was immersed in the feeling this had happened before...that she wasn't a stranger to these feelings. That on a previous occasion Luke had kissed her, held her, and she had found peace.
The chill of disappointment as Luke put her from him made her shiver. The door opening snapped her mind to attention as Angela entered through the back door, with her father close behind.
"Temperature's dropping fast."
Rachel was grateful for the way Luke stood between her and the Rodriguez' giving her a minute to collect herself.
Juan was saying something about Theresa's rheumatism acting up which meant they were in for a cold spell. Angela carried her overnight bag into the guest room.
"W…would
you like some pizza?" Rachel asked father and daughter shyly.
Juan smiled at her, "No thank you. We have just eaten. Perhaps another night, you and Luke will join us for tacos? Marie will sit with Gordie."
"Would I have to bring my own fire extinguisher along?" She smiled mischievously at Juan. There was something in the manager's manner that reminded her of Tom Atwell. Warm, friendly, undemanding.
Juan threw his head back and roared with laughter. "I see Hannah has warned you about us. She hasn't forgotten the time we gave her our homemade salsa full of some of the hottest Jalapenos around." He turned to Luke. "It was soon after she and Carlos were married. Hannah kept insisting she liked hot food. Theresa took her word for it and cooked a special meal for them. One bite and we thought Hannah would go up in flames." Juan chuckled again, and then said. "Don't worry. We will have some food that’s not too spicy for you."
"I'll look forward to it."
"If you have time," Juan said to Luke almost apologetically, "we could talk about Diamond Pride. Mr. Callaghan called again at five this evening. He's very anxious to finalize matters."
"Come into the study. Excuse us," Luke said to Rachel. "This won't take long."
The sound of the study door closing galvanized Rachel into action. Picking up her plate she glanced at the teenager who had switched the television on. "I'm going to bed now. It's been a long day. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Angela's voice was absent, her imagination already captured by a woman in evening dress screaming that she wanted a divorce.
Rachel shut the door of her room and leaned against it. Luke. She touched her lips. He had kissed her, held her as if it meant something. As if she meant something. Was it just a gesture as insubstantial as the moonbeams trailing across her bed, or had those moments meant something to him as well?
In the few days she had been here Rachel had learned Luke wasn't a man who said or did what he didn't mean.
She fell asleep with a smile in her heart.
The smell of frying bacon woke her at eight.
Jumping up Rachel grabbed the velour robe Luke had bought for her and hurled herself into the kitchen. What a time to oversleep.
Gordie was in his high chair, playing with a spoon. Luke was by the stove. A maroon and cream sweater strained to confine his upper body, the lean lithe hips were encased in cream corduroys. Rachel knew the apron he was wrapped in had Kiss the Cook emblazoned on the front.
"Hi! Sleep well?" His eyes trailed over her from top to bottom in a leisurely scrutiny. The responsive surge of adrenalin in Rachel's body brought her wide awake. Gordie banged his spoon on his tray and she bent to kiss him, glad of an excuse to hide her flushed face.
"I overslept," she confessed softly. "You should have woken me."
"Why?" asked Luke matter of factly, "You need your sleep. Gordie and I always share the morning hours."
Could she apply for the night hours if there was a vacancy? The thought shocked Rachel into a
bsolute stillness. She put a hand up to her head.
"Rae? Is something wrong?" He reached for her but she moved quickly till Gordie and the high chair separated them.
"No. Nothing's wrong," she said quickly. Gently prying Gordie's fingers loose from around the middle finger of her left hand she gave him his small silver spoon to hold instead, "I think I'll have a shower right away. I won't be long."
Trudging to the bathroom she put a hand up to her head again. Was she crazy? Fantasizing about Luke was like deliberately stepping into crocodile infested water. She needed a cold shower.
Under the cascading jet of water, she thought of the men in her life. She'd had a few offers abroad. From men who were lonely, men who wanted to forget the miseries of what they saw, what they dealt with, from men who were just plain hungry for a female body. She hadn't accepted any because not one of them had touched her soul.
Rachel lathered her hair, trying to wash thoughts of Luke out but for the first time in the longest while, her mind couldn't control what her body was feeling. A kiss that left a warm glow was one thing but this urge to fling herself into Luke's arms every time he looked at her amazed her. She couldn't understand why this had to happen now. Things were complicated enough already.
Tilting her head she allowed the water to wash away the entire soapy residue, willing it to remove the strange impulses crowding her brain as well.
CHAPTER 7
"We're going to pick out a tree today," Luke announced halfway through breakfast.
The fierce protectiveness that had welled up at the sight of Rachel's freshly scrubbed face, the trembling pink lips unadorned by lipstick, surprised Luke. She had responded to him like a moth to the flame last night. This morning, straight out of bed, she'd looked one hundred percent adorable. If she hadn't bolted he would have kissed her again.
Rachel Carstairs didn't have an iota of self-preservation in her. He’d sensed the surrender and the yearning in her kisses and it had opened up a furnace of desire in him. Right now, she was as ready for the rest, as Gordie was for steak. It was up to him to see she didn't get in over her head.
Faith Hope and Love (A Homespun Romance) Page 9