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The relief that moved through Emma was so strong it made her chest ache. Thank goodness they liked the food.
The elder Ross squinted at her. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes, very well.”
“And the baby?” Georgia asked. “Did she keep you awake?”
“No. She slept, too.”
Her employer looked surprised, but said nothing.
“Is she up yet?” Bram asked.
“Yes.” She inclined her head toward the kitchen. “She’s in there.”
“She sure is quiet,” he said.
“She’s a good baby,” Emma said mildly.
“So she hasn’t scared you off yet?” Jake’s voice was flat.
“No, not at all.” The way everyone’s gazes went to him then immediately skipped away had her wondering again if he disliked the baby. “I was going to make flapjacks, but wasn’t sure how many.”
“None for me.” Bram grinned, reaching for the platter of biscuits and bacon. “I’ve got all the food I need right here.”
“What he’s got is plenty for everyone, Miz York,” Ike said dryly.
Jake said nothing.
She smiled. “All right, then.”
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Georgia patted the empty place next to her.
The invitation took Emma by surprise. If circumstances had been different, she would’ve liked getting to know them, making friends, but leaving was going to be hard enough when the time came. She should do her job and keep to herself. “Thank you, but I’ve eaten.”
“I’ll share the biscuits with you,” Bram cajoled with a charming grin that revealed a deep set of dimples.
Aware of the sharp look Jake threw him, she turned for the kitchen. Mr. Ross obviously didn’t like his family being friendly with the help, which was fine with Emma. “If you’re sure you don’t want the flapjacks, I’ll start cleaning the dishes and I’ll bring more coffee.”
“But—” Bram began.
She fetched the coffee then returned, using the skirt of her apron to hold the hot handle. After pouring a cup for the elder Ross, she moved to Jake.
He passed her his cup and when she returned it to him, their fingers brushed. She pulled away quickly.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Her gaze caught on his and she felt heat creep into her cheeks. She stepped behind Ike to go to Bram, wishing she weren’t so aware of the way Jake’s pale gray shirt molded shoulders that were as wide as the door. Of his dark hair and black eyes. He was handsome in a rugged, rough way that made a woman think he could protect her. Well, Emma knew better than to trust such sentiments.
As she moved around the table to Georgia, he didn’t look at her. And yet she felt his attention on her. Weighing, considering. Her guard immediately went up. She wished she could disappear.
As she stepped into the kitchen, she surreptitiously cast one more glance over her shoulder and her gaze crashed into his.
Their new housekeeper acted nervous, Jake thought. Because of him? He didn’t mean to make her nervous, but, well, he couldn’t stop looking at her.
Bram looked at Jake. “She acted worried that we wouldn’t like her cooking.”
“I think she was.”
“She’s every bit as good a cook as Louisa. Don’t scare her off.”
Jake glared at his brother and shoved a biscuit in his mouth. Something about Emma York compelled his attention and it wasn’t that she was taking care of that kid. He’d woken several times last night thinking about her. Not hot, sweaty-type thoughts, but curious, bothered-type thoughts.
He’d decided that was on account of all the alcohol working its way out of his system. He drank to forget and she was a much more pleasant image to contemplate than the reason he’d been drinking. Quentin. Thoughts of his brother-in-law—former brother-in-law—made Jake angry and uncomfortable and chute crazy. The quicker he finished breakfast, the sooner he could get some space.
Under the table, something grabbed the left leg of his jeans, startling him out of his thoughts. He registered a tiny hand just in time to stop himself from shoving his chair back. Knowing what he would find and knowing it was inevitable that he would sometimes have to be around her, he bent and looked under the table.
The baby stared back at him with big gray-green eyes. She grinned, revealing two teeth. Clutching his knee, she pulled herself to her feet.
Dammit.
“What is it? The baby?” Bram ducked his head to get a look.
Jake wanted out of this chair right now, but, if he rose, the baby would fall. She took a lurching step forward into the vee between his legs and latched on to him to keep her balance. One chubby little hand hit his thigh, the other one his man parts.
He didn’t want to hold her, but he didn’t want her looking at him with those big eyes, either. Easing his chair back, he sent a pleading look to his brother, who was occupied with scraping his plate clean.
Jake picked her up, holding her stiffly out in front of him. He had every intention of handing her off to Georgia or his uncle when Molly grabbed his face between her hands and jabbered something. Her sweet baby scent drifted around him, pricking at memories he kept ruthlessly tucked away.
Sheer reflex had him surging to his feet and thrusting her toward Ike. Before the older man could take her, Miz York eased the baby out of his hold.
“I’m sorry.” She sent Jake an apologetic look. “I didn’t know she’d gotten away from me.”
Heat searing his nerves, he stepped behind his chair, putting some distance between them. The knowing look in his uncle’s eyes had him dragging a hand across his nape.
Puzzlement slid across the nurse’s fine-boned features.
“We don’t know much about babies—” Bram stood, drawing her attention “—but we like ’em.”
Her uncertain gaze darted to Jake then fixed on his brother. “I’ll try to keep her out of your way.”
“She’s not in our way,” Ike said jovially as he rose from his chair. “We like having her around.”
Jake caught the flash of skepticism on Emma York’s face and knew he should try to reassure her, but he couldn’t do it. Her light soap scent joined with the baby’s and he felt as if his chest were being crushed.
“We didn’t hire you so you’d keep her away from us,” Ike said. “We just need some help taking care of her.”
Jake wanted to say he had definitely hired Miz York to keep the baby away from him. That he was the one who made the final decisions around here, but he wasn’t. And he didn’t want to be responsible for that baby. Fine with him if Uncle Ike wanted to raise the orphan the same way he’d raised his nephews. That didn’t mean Jake had to.
“It’s just that some of us are better with little ones than others of us are,” Bram explained.
Miz York nodded, her face pale as she cuddled the baby.
“That was an excellent breakfast, Miz York.” Georgia folded her napkin and set it beside her plate.
“Yes. If we don’t watch it,” her father said, “you’ll have us all fatter than peach-orchard boars in no time.”
Her lips curved in the closest thing to a real smile that Jake had seen since she’d arrived. “Thank you.”
The way her face lit up put a strange tightness in Jake’s chest. But, when her gaze shifted to him, her smile faded and a wariness moved into her eyes. She turned and walked into the kitchen.
Dammit. Compelled to make an effort at reassuring her, he asked, “Is there anything we can do for you before we leave? Anything you need?”
Her voice drifted from the kitchen. “I need to do the laundry. If you could just show me the washtub—”
“We’ll haul the water for you,” Bram volunteered.
“And start the fire,” Jake added.
Coming back to the doorway with the baby on her hip, she looked at Bram, not Jake. “Thank you, but—”
“I’ll get the basket Louisa used to carry the laundry.” His brother went into a small alcove between the housekeeper’s room and the outside wall, returning with a large round basket. After setting it in Jake’s chair, he moved toward the door. “That was a fine meal, Miz York.”
“I’ll start the fire on my way out,” Jake said.
“That’s not necessary,” she said stiffly. “You did hire me to do the job, after all.”
He looked at her. Did they all make her uncomfortable or was it just him? “It won’t take a minute for me to get it burning.”
“I can do it.”
“We can gather up our clothes for you,” Bram insisted.
“I’m supposed to be here to help you—” she looked ill at ease “—not the other way around.”
“All right.” Bram grinned. “You can gather the clothes, but we’ll haul the tubs and the water.”
“And rig up the clothesline,” Ike added.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, though she acted more uneasy than pleased about it.
Bram went outside and Jake started to follow. Now that he was getting some space from her, he could breathe just fine. “We’ll be riding in the west pasture today. If you need anything, for any reason, there’s a gun behind the front door. And there’s a bell hanging right outside the kitchen door and the barn. We can hear both for quite a ways.”
“Do you expect trouble?” Her eyes went wide with worry.
“No, not at all. But we’re not expecting visitors, either.” He’d mentioned the weapon and the bell to reassure her, but it obviously hadn’t. “I wanted you to know about the gun for protection and how to signal us if you needed to.”
“All right, thank you.” She studied him as if she were trying to determine how he was put together.
“Is there anything particular you’d like for supper?” she asked tentatively.
“Whatever you fix will be fine.” He needed to get outside, now. “If we get held up, don’t wait on us. You and Georgia eat while it’s hot.”
She nodded as Georgia came around the table. Emma and his cousin followed him to the door, and Jake could feel the nurse’s anxious gaze locked on him.
Just looking at her pale face made his chest tight. That baby and Emma York made him feel responsible for their welfare. The minute he’d seen the brunette, something inside him had gone still. He didn’t know why. He didn’t care to know.
He was sick to death of feeling responsible for everyone, dead and alive. He’d done the right thing by not dumping that baby on someone else, done the right thing by hiring Emma York. He didn’t need to do anything else, but, for some reason, right didn’t seem like enough this time.
Jake Ross had buzzed in Emma’s thoughts all day like a pesky insect. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the hard look on his face when he’d held Molly that morning at breakfast or because of the quiet way he had studied Emma. As if he knew more than she’d told him. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen him again today. He and the two other men hadn’t returned until late tonight, well after supper and after Emma had gone to bed.
Now it was past midnight and she stood in the kitchen over the stove. Soft amber light from the lone kerosene lamp behind her pooled on the floor. Molly had been fussy since supper and nothing Emma did had helped. She had finally decided the little girl’s stomach hurt and come to the kitchen to make the onion tea that her mother had sworn was the best remedy for upset tummies or a mixed-up sleeping schedule.
As she added another pinch of finely chopped onion to the heating water, Emma couldn’t help recalling the look on Jake Ross’s face this morning when he’d picked up her sister. It hadn’t been disgust or blatant dislike, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it had been. Did he dislike the baby? Everyone in his family had given him odd looks, but she hadn’t been able to decipher those, either.
Had she made a mistake by choosing him, by coming here? The rest of his family seemed to like the little girl just fine, but Emma wouldn’t leave her sister in a household where she wasn’t welcome by everyone. Still, Emma had no money to take her sister and go farther west. Until she did, she would have to stay here and try to help the Ross family become attached to Molly.
When the onion-and-water mixture began to boil, Emma turned to take a folded cloth from the long counter to her right. And gasped. Jake Ross stood in the doorway, wrapped in shadows. In the shift of gray light, she could see he was shirtless. His denims were unbuttoned and he held a gun. How long had he been standing there?
“Shh.” He put a finger to his lips, lamplight slanting across the strong angle of his jaw. “I heard something outside.”
She swallowed hard, nodding to let him know she’d keep quiet.
“I’m going to check. Don’t go anywhere.”
She couldn’t have moved, anyway. Her legs felt like water. He walked past her and silently opened the door on the opposite wall that led outside.
Emma’s heart thundered. He’d startled her, but that wasn’t why her pulse spiked. Gracious, the man was…impressive. His shoulders and chest were hard, solid muscle, only a shade lighter than his face and arms, making it obvious that he worked outside frequently without a shirt. Dark hair on his chest narrowed to a thin line below his navel.
As he went out the door, Emma stared. She couldn’t help it. She’d never seen a man’s bare back. Or bare chest. Or bare anything. One time, she’d seen her stepfather in shirtsleeves, but she’d never laid eyes on a half-naked man.
A funny feeling clenched her stomach. He looked so huge. Intimidating.
She wasn’t sure how long she waited. Realizing she was without her spectacles, Emma slipped them from the pocket of her wrapper and slid them on. Very carefully so as not to make any noise, she reached again for the cloth and lifted the boiling pot from the stove, setting it on the long counter.
After several minutes, the kitchen door opened and Jake moved back inside. He shook his head as he quietly closed the door. “Someone’s been out there, but they’re long gone. Found footprints, but no other sign.”
Though she cautioned herself not to jump to conclusions, Emma’s shoulders tensed up. There was no reason to think that whoever had been out there had been looking for her, but she couldn’t help it. There was no doubt her stepfather would’ve already assigned one of his men, probably Sharpton, to start searching for her and Molly. Orson wouldn’t risk hiring a reputable detective agency like the Pinkertons because he’d be afraid Emma would tell the lawmen about his violent behavior. And she would, if she had the chance. No, Orson had to be discreet and that meant sending one of his own men to find her and the baby.
She’d been so careful. He couldn’t have found them yet. Please, not yet.
“What do you think they wanted?” She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jake still at the outside door, his gaze riveted on her. Her hair. Could he tell that this nut-brown wasn’t her natural color? That it was a dye made from walnut leaves and husks?
It hit her then that her hair was down, plaited into a braid that lay over her shoulder and against her breast. That all she had on was her night rail and wrapper. That all he had on were…denims. His trousers were unbuttoned enough that she could tell the skin below his waistband was lighter than his chest, like the color of an acorn.
The night pulsed around them and Emma realized she was staring, too. She wrapped her arms around her waist. A muscle clenched in Jake’s jaw and he jerkily barred the door then moved past her, heading toward the dining room. The scent of man and soap and the outdoors teased her.
“There’s no telling what they wanted.” He turned in the doorway. “All the livestock we put up in the barn were there and I didn’t hear any cattle bawling like they would be if someone had stirred them up.”
