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Sam gestured at Kate. “I’ll show you around,” Sam said, leading the group back into the house. “Then I’ve got some work to do.”
“I’m hungry,” Riley complained loudly.
“Kate will get you guys dinner in a few minutes,” Sam promised.
“Okay, but not take-out again,” Riley interjected. “I’m sick to death of it. That’s all we ever have for dinner when one of the housekeepers quits.”
“And whose fault is that?” Sam asked, abruptly wheeling around and looking at his sons. A guilty silence fell all around. Having subdued them all for a moment, he turned back to Kate. Wordlessly he took Kate’s elbow and steered her inside. “I want this to be a strictly business arrangement, so I’ll pay you what I’ve paid all the other housekeepers as long as you’re here.”
Kate tensed in surprise. “It isn’t necessary for you to do that. I’m doing this as a friend.”
“It’s the only way I’ll let you stay.”
He didn’t want her friendship, Kate noted with disappointment.
“All right,” Kate conceded, trying to not feel hurt. “If you insist.”
Sam escorted her briskly up the stairs to the second floor. They passed Kevin’s and Lewis’s extremely messy bedrooms—a kid’s bathroom, which was also a royal mess. As they headed for the stairs leading to the third floor, Kate pointed to the closed door on the left. “What’s in there?”
Sam stopped just short of her. They were close. Too close.
“Master bedroom and bath. It’s off-limits.”
Kate took a step back. “To just me or the kids, too?”
His glance narrowed. The unhappiness that had been part of his face for months now deepened. “What do you think?”
That was just it, Kate thought, she didn’t have a clue. And Sam wasn’t helping her to understand him.
Sam led the way up to the third floor, where Riley, Will and Brad bunked. Their bedrooms and the spacious bath were equally messy. “Are the boys responsible for their own rooms?” Kate asked as she looked around.
“To a point,” Sam said. “Someone else usually vacuums and dusts.”
“Their rooms would have to be picked up first.”
“You’re beginning to catch on to the problem.”
“You can’t just tell them to clean up?”
A shadow passed over Sam’s eyes and the lines of fatigue around his mouth deepened. “You really don’t know much about rearing kids, do you?” He gave the stinging words a second to sink in, then continued. “In any case, as our temporary household manager you’ll be expected to ride herd on the boys ’round the clock.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“Working. From home tonight, but I’ll probably go into my office in Dallas first thing tomorrow morning.” Sam brushed by her, inundating her with his masculinity and rapidly led the way back down the two sets of stairs to the first floor. Bypassing his study and the formal dining room—which were both at the front of the house, on either side of the foyer—he escorted her through a living room with comfy-looking sofas. Kate couldn’t help but notice that sometime in the last ten minutes, mud had been tracked inside. Ignoring the mess on the floor, Sam led the way past a screened-in sunporch off the family room to the dream kitchen with every built-in, top-of-the-line appliance imaginable. “I’ll give you some money to buy groceries in the morning. In the meantime…” He gestured at the polished black-granite countertops and open cherrywood cabinets. Here, too, dirty dishes and trash covered every surface. The floor was sticky. “You better use what’s here to rustle up some dinner for the boys.”
Kate nodded. Having apparently decided to not wait for her to fix anything, Riley came out of the laundry room on the other side of the breakfast nook. He was eating a pickle and drinking milk straight from the container. Brad looked ready to go out for the evening and was reeking with cologne. Will was putting on his running shoes. Kevin came toward Kate. Shyly, he slipped a Matchbox car in her hand, then stood close to her while Lewis picked up a discarded burger wrapper next to Kate’s foot, wadded it up and dropped it into the overflowing kitchen trash bin.
“When are we gonna eat, Kate?” Riley prodded, helping himself to another pickle from the big jar on the counter. “I’m starving.”
“As soon as possible,” Kate said, wondering where to start. Not even in summer camps had she encountered such a disorganized mess.
“I can help you, if you want,” Lewis piped up shyly.
Happy at least one of Sam’s sons was into being helpful, Kate dug in her pocket and handed over her keys. “Thank you, Lewis. I’d appreciate that. Would you mind getting my bags out of my car? And bring in my laptop computer, too, please.”
Sam’s lips compressed. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you need your laptop?”
“E-mail—it’s our main way of communicating when Craig is stationed overseas.”
Looking happy to be able to help, Lewis went off to do Kate’s bidding. The other boys, perhaps fearing they would be enlisted to help out, too, drifted off in all directions. Kate turned to Sam, already mentally rolling up her sleeves. “Before I start cooking, I want to get this place straightened up,” she said.
“Fine.” Sam regarded Kate impatiently. “But before you do that, let me show you where you’re going to bunk.” Sam led the way to the small bedroom and bath on the other side of the kitchen. “This is the guest suite. As you can see, you have your own TV, phone, bedroom and bath.”
Lewis came rushing in, her suitcase and laptop computer in tow. He set both down on the floor, then asked, “Did you need those boxes of wedding books and stuff, too?”
“I sure do.” Kate smiled and watched as he ran back outside.
Sam arched a brow in Kate’s direction. “I’m using my vacation to plan my wedding,” Kate explained as they headed back into the kitchen.
He lounged against the counter and folded his arms in front of him. “When’s the date?”
“Sometime in the fall or maybe over the Thanksgiving or Christmas holidays. Craig and I haven’t actually set a date yet.”
His brows drew together in a frown. “Why not?”
Kate flushed, feeling abruptly self-conscious as she met Sam’s eyes. “It’s not that easy,” she said, wishing Sam suddenly didn’t sound so much like her parents. “Craig has to get permission from his superiors to take time off.”
“So why hasn’t he already done that?” Sam prodded, difficult as ever. “Given the fact you’ve been engaged for…what?” he asked impatiently.
“Three years now,” Kate said, beginning to feel a little bit defensive despite herself. “And it’s complicated.”
Sam shrugged. He obviously didn’t think so. “Seems to me if you and Craig really wanted to do this, nothing, not even the U.S. military, would stand in the way.”
“Thanks for the insight,” Kate said, annoyed he had so quickly and easily gotten under her skin.
“Any time.” Sam shrugged.
“And for your information,” Kate continued, “we’re going to set a date when Craig comes home on leave the weekend after next.” She paused, knowing now was as good a time as any to inform Sam of her plans. “I’m going to need that time off, by the way, if you still haven’t found someone suitable to care for the boys.”
“I’ll have found someone by then,” Sam vowed flatly. He sent her a hard, warning look. “In the meantime, I meant what I said, you’re here as a temporary household manager and baby-sitter and that’s all.”
Back to that again. “I promise I won’t run any group therapy sessions,” Kate said dryly. She wouldn’t promise she wouldn’t be available to listen, if either Sam or his boys decided they wanted to talk.
Sam regarded her sternly. “Just so we understand each other.”
“Oh, we do,” Kate replied. Maybe more than you’d like, Sam McCabe.
A tense silence fell between them. Sam turned and started to head out. “I’ll be in my study, working,” he said over his shoulder.
“Wait just a minute.” Kate hurried ahead and inserted herself between him and the doorway. “I’m going to need your help as well as the boys’, Sam.”
Sam looked at her suspiciously.
“Whether you’re paying me or not, you shouldn’t expect me to clean this up alone,” she said practically. “All six of you made this mess. All six of you should help clean it up.”
Sam’s shoulders tensed. Kate knew what he was thinking: she’d been here five minutes and already they were arguing about where the lines should be drawn. Nostrils flaring, he leaned toward her in a deliberately intimidating manner. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t do housework, and I don’t run interference between you and my boys.”
“You mean, you won’t back me up on this,” she surmised, not giving an inch despite the way he was physically crowding her, and pushing her back out of the doorway.
Sam shrugged, letting her know it wasn’t too soon for her to see how things were going to be. “You wanted to run the show around here. Now’s your chance.” Brushing past her, he stalked off.
KNOWING WHAT SHE DID in her first few minutes on the job would set the tone for her entire stay in the McCabe household, Kate gathered the boys into the kitchen for a meeting. While they listened with varying degrees of attention, she explained what she had planned.
“There’s only one problem with that,” Will announced as soon as Kate had concluded, looking more than a bit surly as he worked with two hand-held weights. “As I mentioned earlier, I’ve already got plans for the evening.”
“So do I,” Brad interjected, then resumed talking on the phone.
Wordlessly, Kate reached over and took the receiver from Brad’s hand. “He’ll call you back after he’s finished his chores,” she said into the receiver, then cut the connection.
Brad’s mouth gaped open. “Hey! You can’t do that!”
Riley grinned, enjoying his brother’s discomfiture. “Looks like she just did.”
Will looked at the list of chores Kate had scribbled. “I don’t do bathrooms—ever!” he said with a scowl.
“Don’t look at me. I’m not scrubbing anything!” Brad said.
“Then that’s too bad,” Kate said as she cut the jobs into little slips of paper and put them into the newly christened Job Jar in the center of the table. She folded her hands in front of her calmly. “Because none of you will be getting out of here anytime soon.”
It was time this group started behaving like a family, Kate had decided. And the first order of building a team was to identify and then embrace collective responsibility. Then to work together to make things happen. Without either of those things, there could be no real caring for each other or pride in or acknowledgment of all they still had in the wake of Ellie’s death, which, whether they realized it or not, was plenty.
All four older boys exchanged anxious looks. “What are you talking about?” Will demanded.
“As long as I’m in charge here, the rule is, you do your chores before you go anywhere. So each of you four older boys pick two tasks and get busy. Meantime, I’ll get supper going. And Kev here can help by picking up all his toys and putting them away and setting the table.”
As Kate opened the refrigerator door to see what was on hand, she could feel the McCabe boys’ eyes staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. She perused the shelves crammed with junk food and wilting produce and forced herself to not think about how much easier this would have been if Sam had been in here with her, pitching in, too, and setting a good example for his kids.
He wouldn’t be here during the day tomorrow, anyway, so they might as well get used to listening to her now—while he was still on the premises to witness her success at handling them. Because if this was a test, from both him and his boys, she was determined to pass it. She turned around and smiled at them, using the same matter-of-fact tone of voice she’d heard her father use with his football teams countless times. “You heard me, guys. Get moving.”
ALL THREE OLDER BOYS—having completed their chores in the most unhelpful manner possible—stared at the platters of hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, baked beans and cut-up fruit Kate had put on the kitchen table. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Riley said.
“This is kid food,” Will scowled. At seventeen, he did not see himself as a kid. “I don’t see any hot dog buns,” Brad complained.
“There aren’t any,” Kate told them, not about to apologize for the meal she’d put together.
“Well, I can’t eat a hot dog without a bun,” Brad announced grimly.
“We have bread,” Kate offered. It had been stale but not moldy and she had freshened it as much as she could by warming it in the microwave.
“Bread is not the same as buns!” Brad pushed back his chair with a screech.
“Mom made her mac-n-cheese from scratch.” Riley scowled and pushed the bright orange pasta around with the tines of his fork.
So did Kate, when she had the resources. Since she hadn’t, she’d used the mix in the pantry.
Riley frowned and held his nose. “Did somebody put onions in the baked beans?”
Okay, so it wasn’t going smoothly so far, Kate reassured herself firmly, but this was only the first meal and she was only two hours into the job. It would get better as soon as she acclimated.
Lewis returned, his glasses sliding down his nose, his hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. “Dad says eat without him,” he reported with a deeply disappointed sigh as he slid into the chair next to Kate. “He’s busy.”
The boys exchanged unhappy glances. “No surprise there,” Will muttered.
Clearly they wanted their dad to join them. So did Kate. Thinking maybe that would help the boys feel better, like more of a family unit, she murmured, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Better not bother him,” Lewis warned, looking worried.
“I’ll just be a minute. You boys can go ahead and start putting food on your plates,” Kate said. She went to the study. The door was shut, as it had been earlier. She knocked.
“What?” Sam demanded in an irritated voice from the other side.
In for a penny, in for a pound, Kate thought as she pushed open the door.
Sam shot her an annoyed glance then went back to his computer screen. “I already told Lewis I don’t want to eat now.”
“Sure now?” Kate prodded lightly, “we’re having all your favorites.” And then proceeded to name what was on the menu.
Ignoring her, Sam continued to stare at the chart on the computer screen in front of him. “I’ll get something later.”
Kate edged closer. On the shelves behind his desk were a variety of framed family photos taken over the years. Some had been taken on vacations, others on birthdays. And there were a couple of formal portraits, too. In all of them, the McCabes appeared to be a close-knit group. And in all of them, Ellie, a hauntingly beautiful brunette, with delicate features and light green eyes, stood at the center of the group.
Realizing what she was looking at, Sam spun around in his chair. Suddenly his dark brown eyes were cold as ice. “Didn’t the boys tell you the rule? When I’m in here working, I’m not to be disturbed! And you aren’t to be in here, either. I don’t want you in here cleaning, or reading a book, or even opening a window, whether I’m here or not. Got it?”
Kate got it, all right. She didn’t need her Ph.D. to realize this wasn’t just about maintaining his privacy. By effectively fencing himself off from his sons at home, just as he did at work, Sam McCabe had made himself damn near inaccessible to his sons much of the time. No wonder they were all acting out. He didn’t even show up for meals when he was actually present. But figuring it was too soon to get into all that with any hope of success, Kate concentrated on the things they might be able to discuss with a little more success. “What about your laundry?” Kate asked.
Sam grimaced and turned back to his computer. “I send it out.” A muscle worked in his jaw as he slanted her yet another aggravated glance. “You just get the boys organized and back on schedule and we’ll all do fine.”
“I can do that,” she acknowledged quietly. “Maybe even eventually be their friend if I’m here long enough, but I can’t be their mom or their dad, Sam. Only you can do that. And right now, those boys of yours want a parent eating dinner with them.”
A grim silence fell between them but once again Sam made no move to join them. Instead he snapped defensively, “My relationship with the boys has not changed since Ellie died.”
If that was true, it was a pity. But Kate didn’t think it was. Kate glanced again at the framed photos of happier times, when Sam and Ellie both looked very much engaged in their children’s lives. “Those photos, Sam, say otherwise.”
“HE’S NOT COMING, is he?” Lewis said, frowning unhappily.
“No.” Kate put on a cheerful face and worked to hide her disappointment. “He said he’ll grab something later.” She took her place at the head of the table, between Kev and Riley.
Dinner was a silent affair. The three older boys, still angry about their chores, merely picked at their food. They bolted the moment they were excused from the table, muttering disparaging comments just loud enough for Kate to hear. Lewis did his best to enjoy the meal Kate had prepared, but after the way Sam had shut them out, he didn’t seem to have much of an appetite. Only six-year-old Kevin ate heartily, getting as much on him as in him. “If you want, I can watch Kev for a while,” Lewis offered as Kate began to clear the table.
