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“Come on in. Beth’s fixing some iced tea. I wanted you to meet my kids.”
He held the screen door open for her. As she passed him, she suddenly realized how tall Kurt was. He stood well over six feet. At five foot four, she barely came up to his chin.
She stepped inside and caught the faint scent of lemony furniture polish.
The Western decor was immediately obvious, maple furniture with floral print upholstery. A large fireplace made of river rocks bisected one wall, a variety of riding trophies displayed on the oak mantel. The opposite wall contained family photographs, grandparents and probably great-grandparents in old black-and-white shots, the history of the Rocking R Ranch down through the decades. In the center of the collage stood Kurt and his beautiful blonde bride, Zoe.
With a lump in her throat, Sarah quickly looked away. Guilt burrowed like a garden gopher into her midsection, as though she were responsible for stealing Zoe’s life. Not just exercising her heart.
Sarah struggled to regain her composure.
Kurt introduced his son, Toby.
She extended her hand to the boy, the resemblance to his father striking. “I guess some of those trophies are yours.”
“Yep.” Dressed like his father in jeans and a work shirt, he shook her hand firmly. “Calf roping for ten and under.”
“Congratulations.” She felt overdressed wearing slacks and a fussy cotton blouse when the uniform of the day seemed to favor jeans.
“Have a seat, Ms. Barkley.” When she sat down on the chintz-covered couch, Kurt said, “How is it you happen to be in Sweet Grass Valley?”
“I’m on vacation, taking some time off to see the countryside.” She wondered what he would say if she told him the truth. How she had ferreted out the death of his wife. And why.
Sitting in the adjacent armchair, Kurt appeared to consider her answer. “Did you lose you job or quit?”
She smiled, realizing he thought she was an employee of her company. “A friend is filling in for me. I do have to be back in Seattle by September first, which means I can stay here through the rest of July and most of August.” That was the date of her next doctor’s appointment. In the meantime, she took a whole phalanx of pills to keep her body from rejecting her new heart.
Nodding, he glanced at Toby, who had plopped down on a colorful plaid pillow on the raised hearth of the fireplace. “Son, go find out what’s taking Beth so long with the tea. And have her put some of Nana’s cookies on a plate for our guest.”
“’Kay.” He hopped to his feet. “But she’ll probably bite my head off.”
“Just don’t start anything.”
When Toby left the room, Sarah said, “He’s a good-looking boy.”
A flash of pride flared in Kurt’s eyes and he smiled. “Smart like his mother.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the boy was out of sight. “When I got back from town earlier, my mother-in-law was in quite a state. She and Beth don’t get along well. Today things were so bad, Grace grounded Beth for a week, and I had to agree. I’m guessing it’s part women’s troubles and part that Grace still misses my wife, Zoe. She was Grace’s only child.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She was sorry, even while she felt guilty that Kurt’s loss had been her gain.
“It hasn’t been easy for any of us,” he admitted. “I thought the best thing for Grace was to take some time off. That’s why I called you.”
“I understand.”
Beth appeared from the kitchen carrying a cherrywood tray with a pitcher of tea and two glasses. A slender, pre-pubescent girl, she had her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a tank top and jeans.
Toby strolled in behind her, a glass of cola in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
Her expression sullen, Beth set the tray on the coffee table. Her eyes appeared puffy as though she’d been crying. “You want anything else?”
“I’d like you to meet Ms. Barkley. My daughter, Beth.”
“Hello, Beth. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, right.” She turned to her father. “Can I go now?”
Kurt glared at his daughter. “You can stay right here and be polite for a change. I’m talking to Ms. Barkley about being our housekeeper for the rest of the summer.”
Beth’s eyes widened. “What about Nana?”
“You know Nana Grace isn’t as strong as she used to be,” Kurt said. “She tires easily and that makes her cranky, I know. That’s been hard on both you kids.” He gave his children a weary smile. “Since your mother’s been gone, I guess I’ve been cranky, too, and not a whole lot of fun to be around.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” Beth said. “Toby and me, we understand you miss Mom, too.”
“Yeah, I do. And so does Nana Grace. So I thought we ought to give her a break. If Ms. Barkley agrees to work for us, she could do the cooking and cleaning and chauffeur you kids for a few weeks, till school starts again. Of course you’d still have to help out with chores. She wouldn’t be your slave. More like a new member of the family.”
Toby shrugged, and Beth said, “I don’t need a babysitter, Dad. Or a prison warden! I mean, I can cook ’n stuff. We don’t need anybody else.”
“Wait!” Toby cried. “You can’t even fry an egg, dummy. We’d all starve. Or be poisoned! Grrrggh…” Making an inarticulate croaking sound, he stuck a finger in his mouth and flipped onto his back, his legs up in the air like a dying bug. “I’m dead! My sister—”
“Cut it out, son,” Kurt said, trying valiantly to hold back a smile.
Beth stuck out her tongue at her brother. “You’re such a jerk.”
Suppressing her own smile, Sarah considered all the joy she’d missed by being an only child. Perhaps her dream of having a sister to play with would, in reality, have turned into a nightmare.
Kurt crossed to the fireplace and helped Toby to his feet. “Get outta here, son. You, too, Beth. Go outside and play or something. And no more bickering!”
Shrugging out of his father’s grasp, Toby headed up the stairs to the second floor.
“You never listen to me, Dad!” Beth’s voice rose in pitch to a shriek, the volume increasing with each syllable until the entire house shuddered with her distress.
“I don’t want anybody else around. I want my mom back!”
Like a summer storm, a volley of tears exploded. She whirled and raced up the stairs, trying to escape herself. Escape emotions she couldn’t control.
Tears of empathy jammed together in Sarah’s throat. Drawing a breath made her chest ache, and she pressed her palm against the pain. Against the scar that hid there.
Beth needed so much help dealing with the loss of her mother. Dealing with the changes in her own pre-adolescent body and emotions. Needed so much love.
Who could give her that love?
From whom could she accept that love?
Standing at the foot of the stairs, his legs wide apart as though poised for battle, Kurt speared his fingers through his hair. His expressive features twisted into a mask of anger and confusion, his lips a straight line, his brows lowered to shadow his eyes.
“That went well,” he muttered. His fingers rhythmically flexed and unflexed.
“I’m sorry.” For him and for his loss. For his troubled child. Despite his anger, Sarah didn’t doubt for a moment that he loved his daughter. And his son. No one could show that depth of emotion without caring deeply for them.
His chest expanded on a long intake of air followed by a harsh exhale. “What you see before you is a desperate man.”
“A desperate man, who is grieving for the wife he lost and trying to deal with a menopausal mother-in-law and a hormonal adolescent.”
His head whipped around and he blinked at Sarah. “Beth’s hormonal?”
“She’s the right age. Have you talked to her about—”
“No!”
No matter how hard she tried to stop herself, a smile vaulted to Sarah’s face and she laughed at Kurt’s horrified expression.
He sank down on the arm of the couch. “This is no laughing matter.”
“I know. But you really should have seen your face. You had terror written all over it. In neon lights.”
The slightest hint of a smile curved the corners of his lips. “Well, if nothing else you know what you’d be getting into if you take the job.” He scratched the day-old whiskers on his square jaw. “I need some help. The whole family does. I’d pay you a decent wage, plus room and board. I’d also understand if you turned tail and got out of here as fast as that puny car of yours would take you.”
Oxygen seemed to escape her brain, leaving her dizzy with bells ringing in her head. Bells of excitement? Or bells of warning?
Had the Lord placed her in the diner at just the right time this afternoon to meet Kurt? Was this the Lord’s plan?
There was no way to know for sure. Unless she took a leap of faith.
She drew a shaky breath and lifted her chin. “My car is not puny and I’ve never in my life turned tail when faced with a challenge.” Confronted with childhood leukemia and years of radiation and chemo, which damaged her heart so badly she’d needed a transplant at the age of thirty-two, she’d never stopped fighting. She didn’t plan to stop now.
“Mr. Ryder, I accept your job offer.”
His smile broadened, squint lines appearing at the corners of is eyes. “Why don’t you call me Kurt? It’ll be easier that way.” He stood and extended his hand.
“Welcome to the Rocking R, Ms. Barkley.”
“Thank you, Kurt.” His hand was broad and warm and calloused, not at all like those of the businessmen who were her Seattle clients, but far stronger and more compelling. “Please call me Sarah.”
Chapter Three
Kurt gave Sarah a brief tour of the house, then showed her the very large, modern kitchen.
“You could feed an army from this kitchen,” Sarah commented. Miles of granite counters and oak cabinets lined one side of the room. The window over two extra-deep stainless steel sinks looked over a fenced backyard with grass and flower beds that needed care. Beyond that a row of poplar trees formed a bright green windbreak.
A round oak table and chairs were placed on the opposite side of the room with a view to the east.
In the center of the room was a butcher-block counter. Above that dozens of gadgets hung from a rack, some of them Sarah couldn’t even identify.
“Zoe really liked to cook,” Kurt said. “She had the kitchen remodeled and expanded several years ago so she could have bigger parties.”
“Very impressive.” Sarah rarely entertained. Until recently she hadn’t had the strength.
“Your bedroom with a private bath is back here.” Kurt led her past what she took to be a pantry and supply room. “Originally this room off the kitchen was for a servant, but Zoe turned it into a guest room. My brother and his family come to visit once in a while. They live in Denver.”
Sarah drew a quick breath as she stepped inside. Though simply decorated, the room had a homey feel to it. A handmade quilt covered a cherrywood double bed and there was a matching dresser with a vase of artificial daisies sitting on it. Sheer curtains covered the one window and on the walls, original watercolor paintings featured Western scenes. An oval hooked rug brightened the hardwood floor.
“This is lovely,” she said. “Your wife had very good taste.”
“Yeah, she did.” He backed out of the room. “I’ll help bring in your things, then you can start dinner. I checked and it looks like Nana Grace defrosted some steaks.”
Steaks? Sarah rarely ate red meat but she supposed tonight could be an exception. Assuming she could figure out how to cook them.
An hour later, she’d unpacked her bags and stood staring at four huge T-bone steaks wondering what to do with them. She’d managed to find some shredded lettuce and tomatoes, and cut up some baby carrots to add to a salad. She figured Kurt was a big eater, so she put a loaf of bread and butter on the table.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t find a broiler pan big enough to hold all the steaks.
Willing to admit defeat, she went in search of Kurt.
Toby was sprawled on the living room floor watching television.
“Toby, do you know where your dad is?”
He continued to stare glassy-eyed at the antics of comic characters determined to lop off each others’ heads with laser swords.
“Toby?” When he still failed to answer, she shrugged. She’d find Kurt herself.
She turned down the hallway that led to his office. She found him there staring at the computer screen in much the same way Toby was watching TV. A disorganized pile of invoices sat on his cluttered walnut desk and old magazines and farm catalogs covered half of the nearby couch.
She knocked on the doorjamb and he looked up, a frown tugging his brows together. She opened her mouth to ask about cooking the steaks, but before she could speak, he said, “Do you know anything about computers?”
She blinked, caught off guard by his question. “Some. What seems to be the problem?”
“Beats me. I’m supposed to be able to pay my bills online. I clicked on something and the whole screen went blank. It’s just plain gone.” He glared at the screen as if he could, by force of will, make the device do what he wanted it to do.
“Would you like me to try?” Fortunately, her computer skills were considerably better than her cooking prowess.
He moved out of his dark leather chair, and she took his place. A few quick clicks of the mouse and a spreadsheet appeared.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
As he bent over to peer at the screen, she caught the scent of sage and wild grass on the prairie. The essential perfume of both Kurt and his land.
“That’s incredible. How did you do that?”
“You must have accidentally hidden the whole work sheet. All I did was unhide it. You should be fine now.”
They traded places again.
“Did you want something?” he asked, his attention back on the computer screen.
“I was looking for a broiling pan to cook the steaks. I couldn’t find one.”
“Grace grills them.”
