Maid in Montana Page 2
She shook her head in wonder. Thinking love would cause him to make room for Brady was just another way of saying that she believed that with enough love Mick would change. After twenty-two years of jumping through hoops for parents who never found a way to have any time for her, she should have known better than to take up with someone as career oriented as Mick. But she hadn’t. He had to dump her before she finally got the message. People didn’t change. And she wouldn’t again make the mistake of believing they could.
A knock sounded on her door, then Slim opened it and poked his head inside. “You’re set for a while.”
“A while?”
“It sometimes takes Jeb a bit of time to realize everything’s going to be okay, but he’ll come around. You just do a good job.”
Sophie smiled and nodded, but from the guarded expression on Slim’s face she knew he hadn’t really made any headway with her stubborn boss. Jeb Worthington wasn’t happy with her and her baby and though he’d told her to stow her gear that didn’t really mean she was staying. She appreciated the ranch foreman going to bat for her, but she wasn’t the kind to let somebody else fight her battles. Once Slim disappeared down the hall, she checked to make sure Brady was sleeping soundly, scooped up the baby monitor and went in search of Jeb.
She walked down empty corridors and through half-furnished rooms confused that a man who seemed to have money didn’t surround himself with creature comforts. Eventually she found him in his office. Pacing behind the huge cherrywood desk and tall-back black leather chair, he talked on the phone, his boots clicking on the hardwood floor.
“I’d like to speak with Mrs. Gunther, please.” He was so absorbed in his pacing that Sophie knew he hadn’t noticed her in his doorway. She let her gaze slide up his jean-clad legs, the lightweight plaid shirt, his broad shoulders. “It’s Jeb Worthington.”
If his jerky strides were anything to go by, patience wasn’t his strong suit…Or maybe he wasn’t a man accustomed to sitting or even being inside? The natural tan of his face and hands said he was more at home in the elements than his office. Plus, his body was trimmed, toned, muscled—probably from hard work, not a gym.
Her gaze moved up again, until it reached his face. Straight nose. Silky looking black hair. Her breath stuttered in her chest. Wow. How had she missed that he was gorgeous?
Thinking back on the day she interviewed with him, she winced, remembering that she had noticed. In fact, she remembered wanting to swoon when he walked into the room. She’d been so excited about the great pay and benefits he’d offered her that she’d forgotten that.
“Mrs. Gunther?”
He stopped his pacing, turned to the heavy drapes that covered a wall of windows, affording Sophie the opportunity to see his strong back that tapered into a taut waist and trim hips.
“When you sent me a woman with a baby, I think you forgot my housekeeper has to live in.”
Jeb’s conversation brought her back to the present and reminded her of another complication with her employment at this ranch. She was ready to fight to keep a job that meant she’d have to live with a man who was so attractive she’d wanted to swoon the first time she’d seen him.
Was that smart?
“The ranch is so far out in the country we only go into town for supplies once a month. She can’t commute. And it’s impractical for her to hire a baby-sitter. That is, if she can even find one. I had to go the whole way to California to find her.”
His voice went from businesslike to impatient to downright angry so quickly that Sophie blinked. Maybe she was the one being too hasty? He was a grouch with little to no patience with mistakes. Not even honest ones. Yet instead of running for cover before he saw her eavesdropping, she stood gazing at him like a star-struck teenager, as if how he behaved didn’t matter; he was so good-looking that she could forgive his being a little grouchy.
That wasn’t like her at all. And it also wasn’t right.
“Okay, let’s just say we both agree that mistakes happen. I can appreciate that your staff got the instruction wrong. That doesn’t change the fact that her having a baby is a deal breaker. I can’t keep her.”
Sophie’s mouth fell open in dismay, but as he paused to listen to Mrs. Gunther, he turned in her direction and she jumped away from the open doorway into the hall, flattening herself against the wall so he wouldn’t see her.
“I know that under the circumstances, especially with the flexible schedule, it doesn’t seem that a baby would be a problem. But they’re a hindrance, a distraction. I can’t risk everything I’ve put into this company because she can’t get her work done.”
Though her heart had been pounding a hundred beats a second, his argument caused it to settle down and she frowned. That was all he was worried about? That she wouldn’t get her work done? Was he nuts? Every mother in the world cooked and cleaned while caring for her children. Of course she could get her work done.
“Just start gathering résumés again. Get me somebody who can do everything I need done and this time without a baby.”
He slammed the phone receiver into the cradle and Sophie hightailed it out of the corridor. But as she scrambled back to her quarters, she smiled, suddenly inspired. She might not have been able to get her parents or Mick to change, but the problem she had with Jeb Worthington wasn’t about getting him to change. It was only about getting him to change his mind. To keep this job, all she had to do was show him that she could get her work done even with Brady in the room, underfoot, in the baby carrier slung over her back.
Actually that really was the way to go. Rather than tiptoe around Brady, the best thing to do would be to demonstrate that—just like every other mother on the planet—she could get her work done with her baby, not in spite of her baby.
And forget all about the fact that he was good-looking.
CHAPTER TWO
THOUGH Sophie didn’t know what time ranchers woke for morning chores—there had been no reason to tell her because breakfast wasn’t her responsibility, only supper was—she set her alarm for four-thirty and bounced out of bed when it rang.
Her plan was to make Jeb the breakfast of his dreams and serve it to him with Brady sitting in the high chair only a few feet away. The baby might goo and coo, but who could object to happy baby sounds? No one. Her boss would have good food and good company and he’d see there were more reasons to like having Brady around than reasons to kick them off the ranch.
Piece of cake.
After dressing herself in a T-shirt and blue jeans, she raced to the kitchen taking the baby monitor with her so that she’d hear Brady wake. Then she quickly brewed a pot of coffee, and ran to the refrigerator for fruit. A Tex-Mex omelet would be the main course, but she intended to do this up right and prepare the kind of hearty meal a rancher needed. Fruit cup first. A little oatmeal. Then the omelet, bacon and toast.
Running around the huge kitchen with solid oak cabinets and pale granite countertops surrounding the stainless steel appliances, she sliced fruit until five o’clock. Still scurrying, she fried bacon. At five-thirty, she put toast into the stainless steel toaster and by the time six o’clock rolled around she was becoming nervous.
The coffee was stale, the toast cold and the fruit soft. She thought ranchers got up at the crack of dawn? Where the heck was Jeb?
Expecting him to stroll through the door any second, she located everything needed to cook the omelet, which she couldn’t actually prepare until he was ready to eat. When all the ingredients sat on the counter by the stainless steel stove, she stopped moving.
Where was he?
Six turned into six-thirty. The sound of Brady waking crackled through the monitor, and she went to the bedroom and quickly got him dressed. Then she came back to the kitchen and slid him into his high chair that she’d already placed at the table. At seven-fifteen, Jeb finally strolled into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.
Leaning against the stove, arms crossed on her chest, she narrowe
d her eyes at him. His dark hair and brooding gray-green eyes could stop the heart of any normal woman, and Sophie had to admit hers stuttered a bit just at the sight of him. But she reminded herself that her need to keep this job trumped any romantic notions. She needed employment, not to be a lovesick puppy over a self-absorbed man.
Jeb almost asked Sophie why she was standing in his kitchen. He liked being alone when he first got up. That’s why breakfast wasn’t on her list of duties.
Instead he reminded himself he had to be nice so she’d not only stay and clean the house for the clients arriving in three weeks, but also to mend his reputation. When she left, he’d give her the thousand dollars she’d requested so that her only complaint could be that her baby hadn’t fit into ranch life. And if she just happened to stop in town on her way back to California, and mention that Jeb had given her a nice bonus, so much the better.
Walking to the counter with the coffeemaker, he said, “Good morning.”
“I’m not sure I’d drink that. I made it at four-thirty.”
He turned and gaped at her. “Why?”
“Because I thought all ranchers got up early and I was trying to please you.”
This time his eyes narrowed. “Trying to please me?”
“Because I’m sorry.”
“What the hell do you have to be sorry for? You said the agency told you it was okay to bring your son.”
“I should have confirmed that with you.”
At the repentant expression on her face, Jeb turned away from her. It wasn’t her fault that the agency had got his instructions wrong. Yet, the woman he would fire as soon as his prospective clients had seen the house, had apologized and made him breakfast.
A wave of guilt rode through him like a wild stallion. He glanced over, ready to thank her for her trouble but also to tell her that her work was all for nothing because he wasn’t a breakfast person. But when he looked at her, the words froze in his mouth. Her dark brown eyes snagged his gaze and he totally forgot the speech he had planned.
“I haven’t yet made the omelet and I can make fresh toast,” she said, her eyes brightening with hope and her lips teasing upward into a smile. “So, if you’re hungry, I can have a hot breakfast for you in no time.”
He swallowed. Good grief, she was pretty. But more than that, she was nice. Nice enough that he forgot all about counteracting Maria’s claims that he was a grouchy boss. Staring into her dark brown orbs, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. He’d feel like a heel all day if he didn’t eat the breakfast she’d planned.
“Sure. I’d love an omelet.”
“Great! You sit. I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
She made the coffee first, and without another word to him, busied herself breaking eggs into a bowl and adding chopped vegetables from a plate beside the stove.
Taking a seat at the round oak table, Jeb finally noticed the high chair…and her baby. The little boy with hair pointing to all four corners of the world sat no more than three feet away from him.
The kid grinned toothlessly at him. Jeb sucked in another breath, debating how to remind Sophie that she was supposed to keep her baby out of his way, but within what seemed like seconds she appeared at the table, delicious smelling omelet on one of his everyday dishes.
“I’m really sorry about all this.”
The room suddenly felt small and cramped. To his right was a baby. A perfect, healthy, happy child. To his left that little boy’s mom. A perfect, healthy, sexy woman.
Lord, he should have kept Maria. She might have been attracted to him, but he hadn’t been attracted to her and that situation he could have controlled.
Prepared to eat his omelet in record time and get the hell out of here, he picked up his fork. Much to his horror, Sophie took a seat, putting herself between him and her baby. She lifted a tiny spoon from a small plate of mushy food and directed it to her baby’s mouth.
“I wish I had known you didn’t want a woman with a child. I wouldn’t even have interviewed.”
The kid smacked his lips at the taste of the putrid looking yellowish mush. Jeb forced breath into his lung. “It’s not your fault.”
The baby clapped his hands together with glee as Sophie got another spoon of the mush and said, “I feel responsible.”
Jeb’s muscles began to quiver from the effort of not reacting to her or her child and he knew that was stupid, foolish. She was just another woman. His housekeeper. His employee. Being attracted to her was wrong in so many ways he couldn’t even count them. He tried to convince himself that the spike in his heart rate was from having a baby so near, but he knew the real reason was Sophie herself. She was feeling guilty for things that weren’t her fault and injustice always made him want to fight for the underdog. He couldn’t fight for the woman he was firing. He was the enemy.
“Look, you have to stop taking the blame for everything.”
“I can’t help it.” She laughed. “It’s been woven into my DNA.”
Her laugh skimmed along his nerve endings like a spring breeze dances through new grass, but her words worked their way past his hormones and found his brain. He’d never wondered about this single woman’s reasons for taking a job at a ranch so far out of town she had to live in, but her last comment was very telling. Though his parents would have happily let him become a beach bum, he’d had plenty of school friends who couldn’t quite measure up to family expectations.
He glanced at the baby, and then caught Sophie’s gaze again. He couldn’t be so crass as to come right out and ask if her parents had frowned on her having a baby without being married. So, he took a shortcut and asked simply, “Crappy parents?”
“Depends on whose perspective you get. My dad’s a doctor. Salt of the earth. Wins awards.”
“And your mom?”
“University professor. Brilliant. Her students hang on her every word and she lets them hang out in her living room.”
“But she doesn’t have any room for her daughter?”
“It’s more that her daughter never really fit.” She fed the baby another spoon of yellow mush then smiled at Jeb. “With either of them. Not the surgeon filled with heart or the university professor everybody loved.”
“And you think that’s your fault?”
She shrugged. “Yes and no. I mean, logically, I know that my parents have to take responsibility for not making time for their daughter, but I also know we create our own destinies. I’d rather take responsibility than be a whiner.”
Her comment was so unexpected that he nearly spit out his coffee on a laugh. And that scared him more than feeling sorry for her. He always was a sucker for a woman who could make him laugh. And this woman had not only gotten him to sit down to breakfast, and talk about her personal life, but now she’d made him laugh. If he didn’t straighten things out between them and quickly, she’d have him spilling the story of his life. And that couldn’t happen.
He rose from the table. “Okay. Here’s how this is going to go down. I don’t want you taking the blame for things you didn’t do. I don’t want you making breakfast. I never eat when I first get up. I just take coffee to the barn with me.” He walked to the cupboard, pulled out his travel mug and set it on the counter with the coffeemaker. “I don’t want anything special like this from you again. The job description doesn’t include breakfast. So don’t make it.” He poured coffee into his mug. “I want the house clean, my laundry done and supper made. Nothing else.”
He strode to the door, grabbed the knob and faced her. “You got that?”
She nodded.
“Good.”
But as Jeb was walking to the barn, he wondered if Sophie really did understand what he’d said. It was easy to tell from her few comments about her parents that she’d probably spent her childhood trying to please them, which made her one of those people who was always working to fix everybody around them.
Lord, if she ever found out the truth of his life, she’d have a field day.
He was strong enough—stubborn enough—that he didn’t believe he’d spill his guts and tell her things he didn’t want anybody to know, but why risk it?
Her primary function was to prepare his house for his clients. He could easily take cooking off her list of duties and never even have to worry that their paths would cross.
That was a much better idea than sitting three feet away from her and her child, risking that she’d work whatever magic she wove and somehow get him talking about himself.
Sophie was in the middle of supper preparations when Jeb opened the back door and strode into the kitchen talking. “Sophie, can you come back to the office with me for a minute?”
She looked up from the pepper she was chopping then glanced at the baby monitor on the counter. Brady had just gone to sleep. She didn’t believe he would wake up. She could leave him for five minutes without the monitor…right?
“This won’t take long.”
She smiled and said, “Sure,” but waited until Jeb was in the hall leading to the front foyer, before she snatched the monitor from the counter as she passed it. He hadn’t said a word about Brady that morning, but that was actually the problem. She’d never met a person who didn’t oohh and ahh over her baby. The fact that her boss hadn’t even addressed the adorable child sitting in the high chair next to him could mean he really was one of those people who didn’t like babies. If that was the case, she might have to rethink her strategy. Stuffing the monitor into her apron pocket, she followed Jeb into the office.