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Jon arched an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll try to remember that sage advice next time I see Mrs. Hawthorn. Be right back.”
He took the garbage and her uneaten sandwich outside, and Kaycee heard him whistle. Through the open back door she watched him divide the food between the two dogs. He came back and washed his hands.
“You don’t have to do the dishes,” he said. “I’ll put the girls to work later.”
“There are only a few left. Did you tell the lawyer we’re engaged now?”
He chuckled softly and snapped his fingers, then shot her a playful grin as he picked up a dishtowel and began to dry the glasses. “Darn, I forgot to mention that.”
“Come on, Jon, be serious. Maybe you should come clean and beg Mrs. Hawthorn’s forgiveness.”
“I haven’t done anything to be forgiven of—well, maybe dragging you into this. But that’s for you to forgive, not her.”
Kaycee shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be party to you losing custody of your children when she catches us lying.”
“Why does it have to be a lie?”
She jerked her head toward him in surprise. “I’m sorry…come again?”
“I mean, if we agree we’re engaged, it’s not for her to say we’re not. And if we decide to break it off later, that’s our business, too. Another one of those bad breaks in life that happen all the time.”
All the time, Kaycee thought, rinsing the last fork and drying her hands. Through the window above the sink, she stared at the distant mountains, the snow-blanketed peaks sparkling like a glittering postcard. She didn’t want to be reminded of those bad breaks—those reversals of fortune, as her ex-fiancé Brett had called them. The bastard. She hoped he and his new bride were happy. She sure didn’t want to go through that again, not here, when she’d just begun to feel at home. Not even make-believe.
“I don’t think it’s the best idea,” Kaycee said, her gut churning. “If news of this so-called engagement gets around town and you break it off as soon as you find a new housekeeper, I’ll be in an awkward position.”
Jon considered that for a moment. “Don’t worry about it. When the time comes, you can jilt me in Little Lobo, in the middle of Main Street at high noon. That way there’ll be no doubt who dumped whom.”
Kaycee still didn’t like the deceit. And a public breakup would be embarrassing for both of them.
“I really hate that I got caught off guard and let this happen,” he continued, drying the utensils as he talked. “But, will you just go along until I can call off my in-laws? I know it’s an imposition, but you don’t have to do anything physical.” Jon fumbled for an explanation. “I mean…”
Kaycee cocked her head, waiting for him to extricate himself. He wouldn’t look her way.
“I mean like coming out here or anything. We’ll manage fine.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. Still avoiding her gaze, he began to drop the forks and knives into the drawer beside the sink. “I don’t think it will get around Little Lobo anyway and we can let it die a natural death, this lie. I’ll tell the kids not to say anything. I’m sorry to put you in this position.” He gave her a quick, frustrated look. “I wouldn’t want you to…to…”
Kaycee bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. He was trying hard. Finally she let him off the hook. “I guess I’ll let it ride—for the time being anyway. Just hurry and get a housekeeper before we’re caught.”
Relief transformed the tension in his face to a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, Kaycee. I guess we both have to get back to work and I need to check on Bo.”
“Um, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see Bo, since I vouched for him being okay to Mrs. Hawthorn. And I guess I need to know all my future children, just in case I’m questioned.”
“Sure, come on.”
The upstairs nursery was in much better order. The two preteen girls finishing their lunch looked up when Kaycee followed Jon into the room. One, a blonde with brown eyes, reminded Kaycee of the woman in the painting in the den; the other, a lanky girl with an unruly tomboyish, brown bob had her father’s eyes.
“Rachel, Samantha, this is Dr. Calloway, the new vet.”
The girls smiled at her and Rachel, the blond one, said, “Michele told us. Thanks for rescuing Dad. Is that nosy old biddy coming back?”
“Probably. If she does, don’t be rude to her. Understand?” Jon said.
Both girls nodded.
“How’s Bo?” Jon asked, moving to the side of the crib against the wall.
“He’s better,” Rachel said. “The fever broke a few minutes ago.”
Kaycee looked into the crib. A beautiful, chubby little boy slept peacefully, his thumb stuck in his mouth. Kaycee gently laid her hand against his cool cheek. “He’s a sweetie.”
“He’s a handful,” Jon said.
Jon brought the empty tray as they returned to the kitchen. Kaycee took the liberty of opening the refrigerator to examine the almost bare shelves.
“Jon, I have to ask, as the children’s pretend mother, what do you intend to feed them?”
“Well, let’s see.” Jon came to stand directly behind her, his nearness making her appreciate the cold air. “Hmm, that could be a problem. I swear I’ve gotten behind the past couple of days. Yesterday would have been the day the housekeeper bought groceries, but she quit on Thursday.”
He reached around Kaycee and opened the meat drawer. Empty. A few eggs were stashed in the door compartment, along with a small chunk of cheese. Jon scratched his head. “Well, I have stew frozen that I can heat for tonight. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for tomorrow, until I can get to the store. And we can get eggs from the henhouse in the morning.”
“We finished the loaf of bread. And no milk, either.”
Jon pulled a face. “Guess we’ll have eggs and stew for breakfast, too. I’ll pick up groceries while they’re in Sunday school.”
“What about the cook in the bunkhouse? Maybe you could borrow some bread.”
Jon chuckled. “Obviously you’ve watched too many reruns of Bonanza. Not many ranches have bunkhouses and cooks these days. Two of my hands are married and live in houses on the ranch. The three single men are bunked in another house closer to the grazing land. My foreman, Clint, lives a few miles from here. Don’t worry, we’ll manage on stew for breakfast. Some people have worse.”
“How about this. I’ll treat y’ all to breakfast in the morning—Southern style at my place.”
“You’re kidding. All of us? You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“I’ll take my chances. I have plenty of room and I scramble eggs like a pro. Then you can go on with your plans afterward.”
“Kaycee, you don’t have to—”
“No, but I want to. Look, you need help right now. And I’m offering.”
From the surprised look on Jon’s face, Kaycee wondered if she had insulted him. Men could be like that. Then he smiled and nodded.
“Okay, then. We’ll be there. What time?”
“Around eight.”
On the way back to town, Kaycee had time to think about Jon’s predicament. She could see the grandparents’ position in a way. Seven kids, no mother, a harried father with a ranch to run and now nobody to look after the children. Of course they would worry. It should be none of her concern, Kaycee knew, but she couldn’t get the family out of her mind…. She couldn’t shut out Jon Rider’s rugged face and deep, smooth voice, either, as much as she tried.
And that surprised her. Brett’s unfaithfulness had left her with a bitterness and distrust toward men. What a rude awakening she’d had on the day of their wedding. Five years loving Brett—and her heart had been obliterated in two seconds, two sentences: “I don’t love you anymore. I’m going to marry Marissa.”
Since then, although she worked almost exclusively with men, she maintained a wide emotional distance from them, especially the wild cowboys she’d come across since she’d been out west. But something about Jon touched her…the concern he showed for the newborn calf he resuscitated…the love and pride in his eyes when he looked at his children.
In spite of that—or maybe because of it—Kaycee knew she should stay away from him. Jon Rider was trouble on the hoof.
AFTER KAYCEE LEFT, Jon called all the children except the napping Bo to the long table in the dining room where they once held family meetings. This would be their first one since Alison died. Staring for a long minute at the chair at the end of the table where she used to sit, he wished he could conjure her spirit to help him out.
“Okay, kids, I’m going to lay it on the line. We’ve got a problem and you need to know about it.”
“That social worker?” Michele said.
“Yes. Do all of you know what a social worker is?”
The older girls nodded.
Tyler shook his head.
“Mean,” Zach offered.
“A social worker is somebody who makes sure children are safe from harm.”
“Then why was she here? We’re safe. You wouldn’t let anybody hurt us,” Sam said. “Did you tell her that?”
“I tried. But, honey, the problem is that somebody else has told her I might hurt you.” He saw their surprise register. “I’m sure she doesn’t believe I would hit you, not that kind of hurt. But by not having a housekeeper to watch over you all the time, she thinks I might not be able to take care of you.”
“But Rachel takes care of us when you can’t,” Tyler said.
“I know, and she does a wonderful job, but she’s not a grown-up and the social worker thinks we need a grown-up.”
“I don’t mind, Daddy,” Rachel said.
“I know you don’t. But you have school and you need time to do things you like to do, not just do chores and take care of your brothers and sisters every day.”
“It doesn’t have to be Rachel all the time,” Sam said. “I know perfectly well how to babysit.”
“Fact is, in a couple of years, when Bo and the twins are older, we’ll be able to make do without a housekeeper. But right now, we need an adult here when the boys are home. I’ll find another housekeeper soon.”
Zach pouted. “I like Rachel better than any old housekeeper.”
“And…” Jon’s tone silenced Zach, but the boy crossed his arms across his chest in protest “…this time we’re going to keep her. There’ll be no pranks played and no backtalk. Absolutely no locking her in the basement.” Jon leveled a severe look at the twins. “Understand?”
The twins squirmed and exchanged worried looks. Everybody nodded.
“Then will everything be okay? When we get a new housekeeper?” Wendy whispered, on the verge of tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Jon said, holding out his hand. Wendy ran into his arms. He pulled her into his lap then addressed the others watching him intently. “Everything will work out. But this lady, Mrs. Hawthorn, may show up at school wanting to talk to you. It’s all right if you talk to her. If she asks questions, tell her the truth.”
“I don’t want to talk to her,” Zach said.
“Me, neither,” echoed Tyler.
“Listen, guys,” Jon said. “If you don’t talk to her, she might think something really is wrong and we don’t want that. Don’t let her upset you. I’m not going to allow anybody to separate us.”
“But, Daddy,” Michele ventured, “I heard her tell you she can take us away from you and make us live somewhere else if we don’t have a mother. Is that true?”
Jon tried never to deceive his children. In fact, being caught up in the charade about marrying Kaycee pricked at him. He should have shot that down when Michele started it—but the look on the kids’ faces, that fear deep in their eyes…. At that moment, he’d have done anything to protect them.
Quietly, he said, “Yes, it’s true. She has the authority to do that if she decides you would be better off somewhere else.”
“Where would she take us, Daddy?” Wendy sobbed.
“Maybe to a place like a hotel where other kids would be. Or maybe to stay with nice people in their homes until I could come get you. It wouldn’t be for long,” Jon said, careful to keep his own anxiety out of his voice. “But it’s not going to happen, okay? We’re going to convince her that we don’t need her anymore and she’ll go away.”
“I wish Mommy hadn’t died,” Wendy whispered.
“So do I, darling,” Jon said, lightly kissing the top of her head. He had never seen a paler bunch of kids and his heart hurt to see his children so frightened. “I know this scares all of you, but we can’t run from everything that scares us. We have to face our problems. We’ll make it though and we’ll be a stronger family in the end.” He wiped the tears from Wendy’s cheeks and kissed her forehead.
“But, Daddy, Dr. Kaycee said she’d be our mom. She said so,” Michele said, tugging at his sleeve. “Just get her to do it.”
“No, we tricked her into saying that. I don’t want you to tell anybody she’s going to be your mother. Not the social worker or your teacher or your friends. Do you all understand that? Until Dr. Kaycee decides for herself what she wants to do, you’re not to mention her name. If the social worker asks, tell her she has to talk to me about grown-up things. Everybody promise me you’ll do what I say.”
All around heads nodded, although Michele’s agreement was reluctant.
“I think we need to clean up the house, too,” Rachel suggested, “so the social worker knows we can take care of ourselves.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jon agreed. “From now on, we pick up our own things, every one of us. Bring dirty clothes to the laundry room. Put the toys away when you finish playing. Don’t leave wet towels on the floor in the bathrooms. Agreed?”
The kids bobbed their heads in unison.
“Good. Now who wants ice cream?”
Six hands shot up amid a chorus of “Me! Me! Me!” Jon set Wendy down and pulled the last two ice-cream containers from the freezer while Sam put bowls on the table. Rachel pulled out the drawer for spoons, but suddenly turned to Jon and threw her arms around his waist.
“It’ll be all right, Daddy. I love you.”
“Me, too!” Zach cried, flinging his arms around Jon’s legs.
Tyler did the same. “Me, three!”
Wendy, Michele and Sam came running and Jon sank to the kitchen floor amid a flurry of arms, legs and wet little mouths kissing his face. Which was good because that way they didn’t notice the tears in his eyes as he gathered them close and sent a silent prayer heavenward to help him keep his family together.
CHAPTER THREE
SUNDAY DAWNED like fireworks when the sun crested the mountaintops. Brilliant white rays exploded across the sky, igniting streaks of scarlet in the scattered clouds. Jon poured the last of the morning’s feed into the trough then stood in reverent appreciation of nature’s beauty.
His soul thrived in these mountains, where he and his family had worked the land for three generations. This was his heritage, his children’s heritage—the wisdom gained by witnessing the cycle of life on the ranch, the respect instilled by experiencing firsthand the awesome power of God and nature. How dare a bitter old man threaten to steal that from them?
Under his breath, Jon swore for the thousandth time that he would not let that happen. But he couldn’t quell the gnawing worry in the pit of his stomach. Not since talking to his lawyer, Frank Thompson. Hal could do serious damage without ever proving a thing, just by convincing the social worker or local law enforcement Jon might have done something wrong.
“Daddy,” Michele called, running toward him, so pretty in her simple blue dress, her tawny, beribboned hair streaming out behind her. “Rachel said to tell you we’re all finished with our chores and dressed for Sunday school.”
The young girl leapt toward him and he caught her in midair. “Let’s go, then.” He swung her in circles until she giggled hysterically.
Michele wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her toward the house. “Daddy, you look worried this morning. Because of that social worker?”
Jon smiled. “Everything is going to be all right. I’ll see to it.” He hoped he was right. Knowing his in-laws’ controlling mentality, he couldn’t afford a misstep. He intended to call Mrs. Hawthorn to try to mend his fences with her, hopefully get her off his back, but he needed to have a full-time housekeeper in place before then.
“Hey, Jon,” Clint called, catching up to them. “Anything in particular you need me to do today other than what we’ve already scheduled?”
“Check on that C-section heifer and calf. They looked good this morning, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Gotcha. Thought I’d get Rory and Cal to keep an eye out for any calving problems among the herd so I can spend some time with Claire later this afternoon, if that’s okay.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be around this afternoon.”
Clint chucked Michele under the chin. “You’re off to church mighty early. You been extra bad?”
“Has she ever,” Jon said, giving the girl a mock frown.
“What’d you do?” Clint asked her.
“I’m not supposed to say,” she said, looking up at Jon through her lashes.
“She’s trying to get me married off again,” Jon said. Clint was like family and would need to know what was going on with the social worker, but Jon was proud of Michele for not mentioning Kaycee.
“If Daddy will just cooperate,” Michele said with a lopsided smile.
“Wha…?” Clint stopped, agape.
Jon laughed and kept walking.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Jon looked around at his foreman in amusement. “Not if Mish has her way. I’ll fill you in later. Right now we’re off to breakfast with my pretend fiancée.”
A few minutes later the family piled into the four-wheel-drive Suburban that the kids had dubbed “Mom’s Limo” and headed for town. During the half-hour drive into Little Lobo, Jon avoided glancing toward the passenger seat. Alison’s seat. Now occupied by Rachel, tall and willowy for her age, who looked more like her mother than any of the girls. Right now, he didn’t want to imagine Alison so close, yet not there at all.
The last time he saw her alive she’d been sitting beside him in his truck, laughing about some silly thing the twins had done. Out of the corner of his eye Jon had caught a glimpse of her beautiful face turned toward him and in that same instant saw the elk bound out of nowhere…directly into the truck’s path. He couldn’t dodge it, couldn’t stop on the black ice. It was an accident. Nothing he could do…. A cold sweat popped out on Jon’s body.
Stop thinking about it. How long would it take for the pain to ease? How long would he have to do penance for being behind the wheel that day?
In town, the children barreled out of the Suburban and, before Jon could stop them, the young ones blasted into Kaycee’s clinic like a hurricane. Kaycee met them in the waiting room, bundling all that energy into her arms without missing a beat. Tyler and Zach went headlong. Bo hung back, wary of the woman he’d never seen before, until jealousy of the hugs and attention bestowed on his brothers got the better of him and he shouldered his way in. Kaycee gave him a hug, too. Michele stood close, beaming at Kaycee, already in love with her, Jon realized. The two older girls found a middle ground, waiting to take over the little ones by habit. Wendy stayed firmly behind Jon, her small hand in his, watching, but not participating.
Kaycee already had biscuits and toast prepared along with a huge bowl of scrambled eggs, crumbled bacon and cheese. Toasted cheese sandwiches cut into triangles waited on a warming plate on the counter. A bowl of fresh fruit sat in the center of the table. She produced a high chair for Bo stamped with the logo from the café next door. Amid the lively chatter, Rachel set Bo in the chair and gave him a plate with a piece of toasted cheese sandwich, slices of banana and poured juice in his sipper cup. The other girls helped Kaycee distribute orange juice and milk.
Soon the room was filled with the familiar bantering and squabbling of the kids. Jon watched Kaycee meld into his family so seamlessly that he had a hard time believing they’d met only the one time. If they were an imposition, she didn’t show it. She appeared to enjoy them.
Her sun-burnished brown hair fell loose around her shoulders. A trace of makeup enhanced her large green eyes, and up close Jon noticed the gold flecks that made them sparkle. The yellow sweater she wore over tweed slacks molded to her curves.
Battling a blaze that started in his groin and worked its way up, Jon forced himself to look somewhere else. A sense of melancholy settled heavily in his chest as he realized how badly he missed his wife, missed the rapport of planning out their schedule each morning, of raising these children together. He hadn’t allowed himself to admit how lonely he was until this moment.
Kaycee caught Jon’s eye and smiled over the sea of heads. He answered with one of sincere gratitude and tried to shake off his gloom as she offered him a plate full of food and sat beside him. Jon mediated the minor disagreements between the children when necessary, kept up his end of the conversation with Kaycee and pondered how to manage the rest of the day. Sunday school and church for the children—he hadn’t been since Alison’s funeral—grocery shopping, getting everybody home and settled again so he could work the ranch. Call Hal. Somehow he had to find a compromise with his in-laws before this dangerous game irreparably damaged his family.
Jon checked his watch. “Let’s move, kids. We don’t want to be late for Sunday school.”
In a flurry of activity, the children scurried to help Kaycee put the dishes in the sink.
“You want to come with us, Dr. Kaycee?” Michele asked hopefully.
“Michele,” Jon admonished. This child would have Kaycee living with them if she could.
“Just asking, Daddy.”
Unflappable Michele. Jon had to smile.
“I don’t think I can dress in time for Sunday school. Suppose I join you for church?” Kaycee suggested, looking at Jon. “Are you going?”
Everybody in the room, Kaycee included, seemed to be waiting for his answer. Michele gazed up at him hopefully. Jon ran a hand through his hair. Truth was, he wasn’t ready. He still had some differences to work out with his Maker before he could set foot in church.
“I can’t buy groceries for all of us in an hour’s time. Maybe next week.”
“Will you come anyway?” Michele said to Kaycee.
“Sure, I’d love to. I’ll meet y’ all there.”
Michele beamed as she climbed into the SUV with the others.
“You’d better stop that, Michele,” Wendy said, buckling into the seat beside her sister.
Jon settled into the driver’s seat, listening.
“What?” Michele said evasively.
“You know what. Trying to get her to be our mother. Just stop it.”
“You can’t make me. I want her to be our mom. Don’t you think she’s nice, Daddy?”
“I’d say she’s real nice considering how you roped her into being mommy-for-a-day. How about leaving the mother-finding to me.”
“But you’re not doing too good,” Zach piped up. “We gots to have somebody!”
Jon grimaced. “The fact is, she’s busy and has a job of her own to do. She may not be in the market for a ready-made family. But don’t worry, I’m going to find another housekeeper as soon as I can.” Jon stopped in front of the church. “Now out you go. I’ll be back for you.”
He took a deep breath as he pulled away from the curb. The sudden silence in the car was unnerving. This is how the world will sound if Hal gets the kids. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. He almost turned around to go back for them. Gripping the wheel, he forced himself to keep going, to buy the food they needed and try to keep life normal for them.
Later that night, when everybody else was in bed, he poured himself a strong drink, something he rarely did—but then he rarely called his father-in-law, either. The worst call had been to tell him his only child, his baby girl, had been killed in an accident. That he’d never see her again or hear her voice, never make amends for the way he’d treated her since she married. Jon held himself responsible for her death. And so did his father-in-law.