Maid in Montana Page 14

  “I cook well,” Sophie said, deciding she might as well toot her own horn. If she was turning over a new leaf, no longer looking out for anybody but herself, she might as well start now.

  Maggie slid onto the bench seat across the booth from her. “If we call this a job interview, dinner’s on the house.”

  Jeb was standing by the sink trying to decide if he should grill hamburgers for himself and Slim for lunch, when he realized he would have to break the news to his foreman that his wonderful dinners were now a thing of the past. Slim was going to throttle him.

  Just as he thought that, Slim burst into the kitchen. “Clients are here.” He stopped, glanced around. “Where’s Sophie?”

  Jeb shrugged. “No idea.”

  “She’s gone?”

  “Yep. And we’re back to grilling burgers and steaks for every meal.” He caught Slim’s gaze. “You got a problem with that?”

  Slim shook his head as if resigned. “Nope. I’m fine.”

  “Right.” Jeb caught the backhanded implication that Jeb was the one with the problem, but he already knew that. Slim wouldn’t say any more than he already had. He didn’t have to. And Jeb wouldn’t defend himself. He already had. Sophie was the one who’d thrown the monkey wrench into everything. It was time for his life and Slim’s life and the ranch life to get back to normal.

  “Let’s go. Clients are waiting.”

  Two weeks later, Jeb got an urgent message from Pete Malloy. There was a problem at Samuel’s House that needed his attention. Immediately.

  His first thought was that something had happened with Macayla, that Sophie opening a line of communication and then leaving had thrown her for a loop. But he squelched it. She hadn’t been that important. He wouldn’t let her be that important. Whatever was wrong with Macayla, one way or another, he would make it right. Without Sophie.

  He napped in the plane and as always a car awaited him at the airport. He jumped inside and drove to Samuel’s House.

  Pete greeted him at the door. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You said it was important.”

  Pete laughed. “It is. Come on.”

  He followed Pete to the dining room. At the door, Pete more or less pushed Jeb in front of him, and nudged him inside.

  All sixteen of the Samuel’s House kids shouted, “Surprise! Happy Birthday.”

  Much to Jeb’s own surprise, he laughed. No one had ever thrown him a birthday party.

  “Who is the squealer who told my birthday? I didn’t think anybody knew my birthday.” He really didn’t. He’d never told anyone. Not even Slim.

  Pete grimaced. “It was me.”

  Jeb turned to face him. “You? How did you know?”

  Macayla stepped forward. “I’m not going to let Pete take the heat for me. I Googled you.”

  Jeb tried not to think of Sophie when he looked at her, but it was no use. This teenager with the big brown eyes, scraggly brown hair and nose ring had stolen Sophie’s heart, changed how she felt, taken her away from Jeb.

  He shook the thought from his head. No one had stolen Sophie. He’d let her go. That’s how he had to remember it.

  “You found my birthday through Google?”

  She shrugged. “I have my ways.” Then she turned away as Pete carried a big cake into the room.

  The group of kids broke into a noisy rendition of Happy Birthday and Jeb stood speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had told him happy birthday. Let alone made him a birthday cake.

  Eating a piece of cake, he made his way through the group thanking them. Each of the kids had his or her own reason for being thrilled to throw the impromptu party. But Macayla had glossed over her part in things and had immediately begun talking about Sophie.

  “She worries about you.”

  He turned away, pretending uninterest, but just as quickly turned back again. Was it so wrong to want to know she was okay? To at least know she had a job?

  “How is she?”

  Macayla shrugged. “Good. She loves California.”

  “Oh, she moved home?”

  “Not hardly. Her parents like a visit now and again, but they’re not much on having a baby around.”

  It broke his heart to think of Brady. Broke it again when he realized Sophie’s parents treated the baby the same way they’d always treated her. Okay for sometimes, but not somebody they liked having around. Their own child and they neglected her. At least his parents had wanted him around.

  “So where is she then?”

  “Diner just outside the Nevada border.”

  “A diner?”

  Macayla laughed. “She loves to cook.”

  He knew that, of course. He also knew she wasn’t a snob when it came to finding a job. All she ever wanted was a way to support her son.

  And him.

  She’d wanted him, too. She’d loved him. It was the first he’d let himself admit it, but he knew it as well as he knew his own name.

  He tried to silence the little voice that nudged the memory of the night at the swimming pool to the front of his brain. She’d wanted to make love that night. She’d wanted to commit. To offer him a life and he’d thrown it all back in her face.

  The pain of that washed over him. He hadn’t meant any of what happened that night the way she’d taken it. He’d only been protecting himself. But he’d never before seen how protecting himself affected other people.

  He’d embarrassed her. Humiliated her. Hurt her.

  He told himself not to care. Not to worry. Not dwell on her. She’d be fine.

  “Yeah, she lives in an apartment above a garage. Owned by some guy named Murphy. She says he’s been coming on to her big time.”

  Macayla laughed but Jeb’s blood boiled. Though he could tell himself he didn’t care that she’d moved on, he did care. He cared a lot.

  “Is she making okay money?”

  Macayla shrugged. “By your definition probably not. By my definition, she’s got a place to stay and free meals for herself and Brady. She’s doing great.”

  Macayla walked away casually, without offering the reassurances Jeb needed. Instead she’d planted seeds that caused him to go crazy with worry. For the next twenty-four hours he suffered with images of Sophie struggling. He pictured her apartment as being one room, with a tiny bath. He saw her eating one meal on her shift at the diner and going hungry the rest of the time.

  Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore he called Macayla, swore her to secrecy and got the name of the diner where Sophie worked.

  His hat low and sunglasses covering his eyes, he walked into the diner the next day. He didn’t want to talk to Sophie. Simply wanted to know that she was okay. And—maybe—to check out the guy named Murphy. He strode to a booth in the back and when the waitress came with a menu, he ordered coffee.

  “Oh, I am sooo glad you’re here.”

  Sophie laughed at Maggie as she raced into the kitchen with an order. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  “No, I’m seriously glad,” Maggie said, slapping her order receipt on Sophie’s work table. “There’s a cutie in the back booth ordered a Tex-Mex omelet. I’m not even sure I know what that is, let alone how to make it.”

  Maggie said Tex-Mex omelet and Sophie instantly thought of her first full day of working for Jeb. She told herself she had to stop letting her mind wander back. Jeb didn’t want her. They were two different people. She’d always want to bring friends into her life. He’d always want to live in seclusion.

  “I make a wicked Tex-Mex omelet.”

  “I know!” Maggie said, clapping her hands together with glee. “I was so lucky that you strolled into my diner!”

  Sophie laughed, broke eggs into a bowl and began to make the omelet. When it was ready, Maggie hustled it out to the dining room.

  A few minutes later, she returned, omelet in hand. “He says it’s dry.”

  Sophie gaped at her. “Dry!” She’d never made a dry omelet in her life and after a night of Bra
dy crying she wasn’t in the mood for random complaints. She headed for the door. “Who is this guy?”

  At the doorway she glared back into the dining room to the corner booth. When she saw Jeb her heart stopped. She ducked back into the kitchen.

  “That’s my old boss.”

  Maggie peered out into the dining room again. “That’s the guy you used to work for? The mean old man.”

  Sophie cleared her throat. “I never really said he was old.”

  “Yeah, but you did say he was mean.”

  “He sent back the omelet, didn’t he?”

  Maggie laughed. “Yeah, but he’s sweet as pie. Flirted with me the whole time he ordered.”

  Sophie whipped off her hairnet. “Don’t let that fool you.”

  She grabbed the omelet and marched out into the dining room, shoving the plate under his nose. “You sent this back?” she asked, talking to the top of his hat because he hadn’t taken it off.

  Jeb’s head came up. She saw her reflection in his sunglasses. “It was dry.”

  “If it’s so dry, how about if you take off that hat and I dump it on your head?”

  He pulled his sunglasses down. “You’ve gotten ornery.”

  “You always were ornery. So we’re even.”

  She turned to walk away but he caught her hand. “We’re not even close to even. You left without giving notice.”

  “Oh, I pretty much figured you knew I wouldn’t hang around.”

  “You see, that’s just it. I didn’t figure you’d be leaving. I thought I’d at least have time to apologize.”

  “That’s too bad, huh?”

  “Well, that’s sort of why I’m here.”

  “To apologize?”

  He nodded. “And to say you were right.”

  “I’m always right.” Except this time she wasn’t sure what she’d been right about. “What was I right about?”

  “Macayla doesn’t belong at Samuel’s House. I reread her file. Went a little farther back than the two foster homes she ran away from. Saw the part about her parents.”

  Her heart lifted. “So, you’d let me adopt her?”

  He gave her an odd look, as if he was pondering something, then he smiled. “Why don’t we adopt her?”

  She took a step back. “Very funny.”

  “Not funny at all.” His smile grew. “Actually it’s the best idea I’ve come up with in a long time.”

  She slapped the omelet on the table, so she could put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing? She’s already been through enough trauma! You can’t promise her something you can’t deliver.”

  “Oh, I’m delivering. My mind is absolutely made up. From where I sit it’s you who’s balking.”

  “I’m not coming back to be your maid.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.” He took off his sunglasses and caught her gaze. “I’d like you to be my wife.”

  Her heart stopped. Her breathing stuttered. “I…You…”

  He pointed at the seat across from him. “Sit. Let me apologize. Let me tell you that I love you and I probably have loved you since the second day you were at my ranch.”

  She sat.

  “I was afraid. And you were right. I was pushing people away. But you were also right when you said we handled the people in our lives differently. You gathered. I pushed.” He reached across the table and caught her hand. “It doesn’t seem to be working for either of us, so what do you say? Do you want to get married and work on meeting in the middle? Gather some people, push away others?”

  The surprise of it shook her. Part of her wanted to shout yes and throw herself in his lap. The other part remembered the hurt, the humiliation of their last meeting. She swallowed. How could she trust him? “I don’t know.”

  He tugged on her hand, forced her to look at him. “Do you love me?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

  “Just what every man wants to hear.”

  “You’re not an easy person to love.” She didn’t really mean that. He was probably the easiest person she’d ever met. She’d fallen in love with him in only a few weeks…Fear held her back. She’d held out her heart. He’d stomped on it. Now he expected her to believe he loved her…

  He loved her.

  Her head jerked up. “You love me?”

  He nodded. “And want you to come home with me. We’ll adopt Macayla. Give her the home she wants. I’ll teach Brady how to rope and ride. And if you want more kids we’ll look into adoption.” He pulled in a breath. “Or, if you really want more of your own kids, we could look into that, too.” He blew out his breath. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You could have oodles of kids. And there are ways you could have them.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. They’d be yours but they’d also be mine because you’d be mine.”

  Tears filled her eyes, brimmed over, spilled down her cheeks. “That’s a change.”

  He sat back, smiled wickedly. “I missed you.”

  She laughed through her tears.

  “I’ve never been able to say that about anybody. My parents taught me not to depend on people, so I learned how to get by without everybody. You…” He shook his head. “It’s not so easy to get along without you.”

  Without a word, Sophie got up from the booth and started to walk away. He caught her hand, tugging her back. “Where are you going?”

  “To tell Maggie she needs to find a new cook.”

  He tugged again, brought her down to his lap. “Without answering me, first. I seem to remember putting a proposition on the table.”

  “I’ve decided to let you suffer for a few hours.”

  “While you pack?”

  With a laugh, she nodded.

  He shook his head. “You’ve gotta work on your punishment skills. The way I had it figured I’d have to camp out in this diner, work on you, maybe even seduce you into coming back with me for at least a week.”

  “You could still work on seducing me.”

  He lowered his head to kiss her. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Then he kissed her and she knew everything was going to be okay. Not because he’d come back for her or because he agreed to adopt, but because he loved her. And she’d always heard people who genuinely loved each other could work anything out.

  Now she knew they would. It was all a matter of finding the right person, the right love.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-3453-0

  MAID IN MONTANA

  First North American Publication 2009.

  Copyright © 2009 by Linda Susan Meier.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.eHarlequin.com

 

 

 
%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share