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Lewis looked disappointed. Brad and Riley remained unperturbed. “Fine. Be that way.” Brad shrugged, already heading for the door.
“Yeah, your loss,” Riley warned. “You’re going to miss some fun.” Together, they eased from his room as stealthily as they had entered.
Will flipped onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. He wished he could have some fun. But now that he was living in Laramie, there wasn’t much chance of that. All of his friends were back in Dallas.
He could have vetoed the move here. Persuaded his dad they should stay in Dallas. But he hadn’t because he was tired of seeing the pitying glances of his friends and teachers, tired of being reminded everywhere he went, in everything he did, that his mom had died. And he’d known, with his senior year coming up, and all the senior activities scheduled that it was only going to get worse.
He wasn’t the only one feeling the pain. It had been just as bad for his brothers and his dad. So once school was out, they’d taken a vote and decided to move back to Laramie, to their house there. To see if that was any better.
In a sense it was. In Laramie, he really felt part of the McCabe clan in a way he never had in Dallas, and Will liked being closer to Aunt Lilah and Uncle John, their four sons and their families. It gave him a sense of belonging he hadn’t had since his mom had died.
What he didn’t like was the way he was constantly being compared to his dad. Since they had moved back here at the beginning of July, Will had been told he looked like his dad, acted like his dad, and as far as some people were concerned, might as well have been his dad “at that age.”
Will just didn’t see it.
Okay, so there was some physical resemblance. He had seen pictures of his dad at seventeen. Admittedly, they did look a lot alike. But any similarities ended there. Will couldn’t have cared less about computers or business or any of that. He wasn’t going to grow up to be a workaholic who knew more about what was going on at work than he did in his own home. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to get so wrapped up in any one woman that he couldn’t seem to function without her. There was a place for females in his life. But no female was going to be his life. Any girlfriend he had from this point forward would just have to understand that.
Meantime, Will sighed, looking at the clock and seeing another half-hour had passed, he had to get some sleep if he was going to be worth a damn at practice tomorrow. Knowing there was only one way that would happen anytime soon, Will got up and went to his closet. He reached for the duffel bag beneath the pile of clothes and magazines and brought it out just far enough to get what he needed before he headed back to bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
KATE WOKE to find the sun streaming in through the curtains. She sat up with a start and glanced at the clock. The digital display flashed four-fifteen. Damn, she thought, tossing back the covers. Her first full day taking care of the boys and the electricity was out. Odds were, six-year-old Kevin had been up for hours. Anxious to make sure everything was under control in the rest of the house, she grabbed her robe, belted it around her, and went to the bedroom door.
Though she could see the door was unlocked, the handle still wouldn’t budge. Frowning, Kate tried again to no avail. It was definitely stuck and she had the sinking sense it was no accident. So the boys were giving her a welcome of their own, hmm? Amused but far from defeated, Kate grabbed a pair of denim shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. She dressed hurriedly, put her hair up in a ponytail, then went back to try the door one last time. It still wouldn’t budge. Which left only one way out. Her bedroom window.
Kate went to the curtains and opened them. She lifted the window, then the screen. Ducking her head, she swung her leg out over the wide wooden sill. She groaned in dismay as something soft, thick and squishy plastered the inside of her thigh. Almost afraid to look, Kate touched a finger to the gooey mess. Peanut butter. Oh, nice, boys, nice.
Well, a little peanut butter had never hurt anyone, Kate told herself sternly as she wiped what she could off with the flat of her hand, then smeared it on the sill, figuring that was going to have to be cleaned, anyway. And she knew by whom! Her heart thudding in her chest, she used her hands as leverage and lowered her sneaker-clad feet onto the ground beneath her. Kate swore again as her ankles stuck to the surprisingly wet ground cover.
Knowing by now there had to be something there, too, Kate looked down at her feet. She was up to her ankles in leaves and—oh, God—was that…maple syrup that had been generously slopped all over the ivy? She touched her finger to it, then lifted it to her face and cautiously sniffed. Yes, it sure was.
“Funny, boys,” Kate muttered as the Texas summer sun shone down on her head. Telling herself she had been a camp counselor for six years and could certainly handle this, Kate made her way out of the ground cover and onto the stone pathway that curved around the house, her shoes smacking irritatingly with every step. She made her way down the sidewalk to the garden hose. Using the flat of her unsticky left hand, she removed as much of the remaining peanut butter from her inner thigh as she could, then took off her shoes and rinsed off her feet and ankles. She did not want to be barefoot when she confronted the boys, but she had no choice.
Aware she did not have a house key, as Sam had neglected to give her one, Kate leisurely made her way around to the front door. It was locked. She rang the bell. No one answered.
Sure by now she was being watched from somewhere—the boys would not have wanted to miss this!—Kate glanced around behind her and saw nothing. No one in the trees or in the cars. Kate went around to the garage. It, too, was locked up tight as a drum. Kate headed for the back door off the laundry room. It was unlocked. Which meant what? she wondered. Another booby trap?
Determined not to be caught unawares this time, she edged it open. Then waited just outside the doorway. Again, not so much as one breath was heard. “Okay, guys,” she called in a firm but cheerful voice as she gingerly stepped inside. As she did so, a bucket above her upended, pouring at least a quart of white flour onto her head.
Kate sneezed several times, and thought, but couldn’t be sure, she heard a chorus of muffled male giggles. “All right, guys, you’ve made your point,” Kate announced as she dusted the flour from her face.
Heading for the kitchen, she went straight to the drawer beside the sink and brought out a clean dishtowel. Still standing in front of the sink, she reached for the spigot, turned the water on and was promptly drenched from neck to waist by the sprayer hose beside the faucet. Screaming in surprise, Kate jumped backward away from the still-spraying hose on the sink ledge. This time she heard lots of laughter. Kate swiftly moved around to shut off the water.
Okay, this was the place where she was supposed to scream and threaten and lose it, Kate concluded thoughtfully. No doubt that was what all the other housekeepers Sam had employed had done. But not her, Kate thought as she studied the rubber band the boys had wrapped around the handle of the sink sprayer, pressing the lever into an on position and guaranteeing that whomever turned on the water next would be drenched. They might have gotten her four times in a row. But this was one situation where they would definitely not have the last laugh.
Her plan already forming, Kate tiptoed back out of the house and headed for the driveway. Will’s Jeep was gone—he was probably at football practice. But Brad’s car was still there and it was unlocked. Kate lifted the hood and did a little quick handiwork, then dashed around to the side of the house, out of view. Seconds later the front door opened. Stealthy footsteps padded out onto the sidewalk. “Hey! The hood on my car is up!” Brad said.
“And that’s not all!” Riley noted grimly. “She took the distributor cap!”
“That’s it,” Brad vowed passionately, upset to have his social life interrupted yet again. “We’re gonna have to—”
“Gonna have to what?” Kate taunted as she came around the side of the house and gave Brad and Riley a good squirt with the garden hose.
“Show you who’s boss!” Riley shouted, followed with a rebel yell as he and Brad whipped loaded Super Soaker water pistols from their belts, confirming Kate’s guess that their earlier pranks had just been a warmup to their much-anticipated grand finale. Still whooping, they let her have it. Kev and Lewis—who’d been lingering uncertainly on the front porch—jumped out to join the melee.
Grinning, Kate gave back as good as they gave her, even as they all dashed around madly and soaked each other from head to toe. If she and the boys were going to have it out, they might as well do it now. And maybe that was just what these boys needed, a rousing fight with their new sitter. Fortunately for her, she had an endless supply of water—they didn’t.
“Run for the house!” Lewis directed, taking charge as the Super Soaker pistols emptied. “She can’t get us there!”
“Want to bet?” Kate shouted as she merrily gave chase, still spraying them madly all the while. The boys shrieked and howled and stumbled over one another as they scrambled up on the porch, climbing over the railing that edged it in an attempt to get to safety.
“Cowards!” Kate teased as she ran up the front steps and joyously squirted them again. Dashing forward, she put herself between them and the front door. Still aiming the hose at the boys, she effectively kept them from getting inside. And that was when she heard the powerful motor of Sam’s limo pulling into the driveway.
THAT QUICKLY, everyone froze in mid-mischief, the laughter dying in their throats, the smiles fading from their faces. Kate lowered the hose as Sam stepped out of the rear of the vehicle. Ever so casually, he leaned back toward the car, and said something to his driver through the open window. The driver nodded, backed out of the drive, and drove away, while Sam started for them, his lips set, his eyes hard.
“Oh, man, are we in for it now,” Brad groaned, wiping his forearm across his drenched brow.
And that, Kate thought glumly, water dripping down her face as she watched Sam coolly and methodically close the distance between them, just about summed it up. Suddenly she felt as if she’d been transported back to the Old West and it was high noon in the middle of the street. She was the cowboy—or girl—in the white hat that everyone was relying on to get them out of the mess they were in. Sam was the much-feared gunslinger.
A muscle working in his jaw, Sam stopped just short of her.
Kate smiled with as much charm as she could muster and, garden hose still in hand, stepped off the front porch. The boys may have started this, but the fact they’d been caught whooping it up red-handed was just as much her fault as theirs. “So, Sam,” she said cheerfully, as if such a riot as this were to be commended instead of denigrated. “What brings you home this early?”
“Instinct,” Sam retorted grimly. “I had a feeling something might happen.” His eyes ruthlessly swept the group before returning to Kate’s. “Just what in blazes is going on here?” he demanded furiously.
The boys exchanged uneasy glances, and much to Kate’s surprise, couldn’t seem to wait to leap to her defense. “We were just horsing around, Dad,” they claimed, surprising Sam, too.
Seeing no point in involving Sam in what was essentially a power struggle between her and the boys, Kate inserted glibly, “And now that we’re finished—”
“Boys. Inside. Now!” Sam commanded. Hands braced on his waist, he regarded them all sternly. “Unless I miss my guess you have a lot to undo in there.”
Uh-oh. Work fast, guys, Kate thought.
She turned to go, too. Maybe if she lent a hand, things wouldn’t look so bad.
Unfortunately, Sam moved with her, blocking her way. “Oh, no, you don’t.”
Aw, heck.
His hand curved over her shoulder, grabbing a fistful of drenched pale blue cotton. “I want to talk to you.”
SAM WAITED UNTIL THE BOYS had all gone inside before he continued. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Having a little fun?” Kate said cheekily. Unfortunately, the irony in her voice was lost on him.
“This was precisely the kind of behavior I had hoped to avoid by having you stay here.”
Abruptly aware her shirt was clinging damply to her breasts in a way that was much too revealing, Kate grabbed a handful of fabric and pulled it away from her body. “If you don’t mind, Sam, I’d like to change clothes…” Maybe by the time she was dry, she’d have figured out how to handle him.
He remained much too close to her. “I do mind,” he said, his brown eyes boring into hers. “What possessed you to get down to their level?”
Kate decided to put some distance between them and moved away from him to replace the distributor cap on Brad’s Mustang. “Maybe because I wanted to pass initiation,” she said over her shoulder. She paused long enough to see his eyes soften, his posture relax. “You don’t look surprised,” she said as she replaced the hose at the side of the house.
Sam sighed, looking no less unhappy but a little less fierce as he told her, “They’ve put everyone who’s worked for me through some kind of test, though never to this extent.” His glance traveling over her from head to toe, he continued to regard her with disapproval.
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