Читать книгу Texas Vows: A McCabe Family Saga - Cathy Thacker Gillen - Страница 12

LATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Sam summoned his boys to the living room to tell them Kate Marten would be taking care of them temporarily.

“Starting when?” Will asked, belligerent as ever.

“She’ll be here any minute,” Sam said. And he was dreading it.

“Why’d you wait so long to tell us?” Riley demanded at once.

Because I was hoping she’d come to her senses and change her mind, Sam thought. He gave his most brashly outspoken son a stern look. “I’m telling you now.” Not that she’d be here more than a day, anyway, Sam reassured himself. Once Kate had refereed a few fistfights and put up with temper tantrums, surly moods and nonstop rowdiness, she’d understand what it was really like to ride herd on five boys twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. She’d want out. And no one, least of all him, would blame her for packing up and going back to work at the hospital, where she belonged.

“It seems to me—if we really want a total babe like Kate Marten to help us out for the next few weeks—that we should be doing the opposite and really cleaning up our act.” Brad pulled mint breath freshener from his pocket, sprayed some in his mouth, then paused to check his reflection in the mirror.

Sam frowned. It was exactly this kind of thing he sought to avoid. He did not want his home life turning into some sort of B movie with a bunch of underage kids lusting after the “baby-sitter.” “That’s enough,” he warned. “I don’t want anyone coming on to Kate Marten or calling her a babe, even on a lark. She’s a nice woman.” If ill-advised, Sam amended silently to himself. “And she deserves your respect.”

“Just not yours?” Riley guessed, his shiny silver trumpet dangling from his fingertips.

Sam tensed. “What do you mean?”

Lewis stopped fiddling with his hand-held video game long enough to say, “We get the feeling you don’t like her.”

Sam felt the eyes of all five of his sons upon him. “It’s not that,” he said uncomfortably.

“Then what is it?” six-year-old Kevin asked in frustration as everyone turned to him in amazement. Since Ellie’s death, he rarely spoke.

Noticing the peanut butter and jelly on his hands, Kev attempted to clean them off by wiping them on his shirt.

“Are you afraid she’s gonna get on your nerves by asking you how you’re feeling all the time and stuff like that?” Riley blurted.

There was that, Sam thought. Kate, being the do-gooder she was, probably wouldn’t hesitate to try to force some counseling down his throat. He had news for her—it wasn’t going to happen. Here, or at the hospital. He knew how women liked to talk things to death, but there was nothing talking about Ellie’s passing managed to do except bring him and the boys more pain. They’d already had enough pain the past year to last them a lifetime. He wasn’t signing any of them up for any more. Once Kate understood that…well, Sam had no doubt she’d find some other family to “help.”

“Nah, Dad can handle that. Dad doesn’t want her staying here cause he’s afraid we’ll fantasize about her,” Brad said.

It was, Sam thought, a little more complicated than that. Made more difficult by the callous pass he had used to try to scare Kate away. If his ploy had worked the way he had intended, he wouldn’t be dealing with Kate or her well-intentioned but unwanted meddling again. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked, and now every time he looked at her they’d both be reminded of what he had done. And neither of them needed that.

Lewis, who at almost twelve had yet to discover girls, frowned and looked disgusted. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Yuck. I would never fantasize about someone as old as Kate!”

“You say that now,” Brad replied with a smug wink, “but we haven’t seen her in her nightie, yet, either.”

Sam grimaced at just the thought. He watched as Kevin slid under the coffee table to play with his toy cars. “Kate Marten is not going to be running around here in her nightie,” he said firmly.

“We saw all our other housekeepers in their bathrobes,” Brad pointed out.

“Yeah, but they were all over fifty and none of them looked anywhere near as ‘babe-a-licious’ as Kate,” Riley added.

Sam did not see what the big deal was about Kate. So she had a trim figure that curved in all the right places, slender legs that looked good in high heels. There was nothing extraordinary about the honey-blond hair that fell to her shoulders. He saw hair that soft and silky all the time. As for her face, any prettiness Kate had on that score—and he reluctantly admitted she had some—was canceled out by her boldly assessing manner and the unflappable determination in her light blue eyes. Sure, she had full, kissable lips. And a softness about her that made a guy want to do his best to protect her even though he knew from the sassy look in her eyes and the confident way she carried herself that it wasn’t at all necessary. But none of that made up for the way she had judged him to be a total screwup as a father and forcibly inserted herself into his private life. And it was high time his boys realized it took more than a slender waist and a pair of breasts to make a woman worth going after.

Six-year-old Kev came out from beneath the coffee table. “I like Kate. She was nice to me at the hospital. She wasn’t all mean and bossy like Mrs. Grunwald and the other baby-sitters.”

Will looked bored as he tossed his football from hand to hand. “Who cares who comes to stay here?” he asked insolently. “I’m out of here.”

Sam stopped his oldest son before he could depart. “Oh, no, you’re not. When Kate gets here, we’re all going to be here. We’re still a family, remember?”

Will gave Sam a look that reminded Sam that wasn’t quite true. They hadn’t really been a family since Ellie’s death. She’d been the center of love and warmth in the family and the glue that held them together. Without her here to care for them, they were all kind of lost.

“Look, Dad, if you don’t want Kate staying here—and we can all tell by looking at you that you don’t—how come you don’t just come right out and tell her that?” Brad asked.

Sam figured the boys didn’t need to know about the way he and Kate had already squared off about this. That was between him and Kate. “Because Kate really wants to help us out here and thanks to the unmitigated encouragement she’s been getting from Aunt Lilah and Uncle John, she’s not going to stop pestering me until I let her try.”

Lewis studied Sam thoughtfully. “But you don’t think she’ll last.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment behind her actions,” Sam said carefully. “When someone wants to help you out of the goodness of their heart, it’s important to appreciate the thought behind the gesture. What Kate doesn’t realize—” Sam looked at the dirty dishes and fast-food wrappers littering every conceivable surface throughout the entire downstairs, including the living room “—is that she doesn’t have the life experience to be able to handle all the cooking and cleaning and organizing around here and ride herd on all you boys simultaneously.” Only Ellie had been able to do that, Sam thought. And she’d done it with such style, warmth, wit and love that everyone else who’d tried to fill her shoes, even partway, had paled by comparison and failed miserably.

Will gave Sam a faintly accusing look as he finally sat. “So why didn’t you just tell Kate Marten she’s getting in over her head, and find someone else to move in?”

Sam let out a frustrated breath. “I tried.” He knew from the moment it was suggested that it wasn’t going to work out. But Kate hadn’t accepted that. And here he was, Sam thought, still having to deal with Kate. His four older sons exchanged speculative glances, forcing Sam to explain further as he picked up some clothes off the floor and clumped them together on the piano bench. “Look, I know her,” Sam muttered, picking up a few empty soda cans, too. “We grew up together. I can try talking to Kate Marten until I’m blue in the face and it’s not going to matter one whit until she figures it out for herself. However…” Sam sighed. “Once Kate’s here for a few days—” if it even took that long, Sam amended silently “—she’ll realize she wouldn’t wish this job on her worst enemy. By then, I’ll have found another housekeeper for us. Kate’ll be able to leave, knowing she did her part to help us survive in the interim, and everyone’s happy.” His aunt and uncle would be satisfied Sam had given Kate a chance, and Kate could move on to her next do-gooding project. And best of all, he’d be rid of Kate and her interference once and for all.

“Gee, Dad, don’t think you have to sugarcoat it for us,” Riley retorted glibly.

Sam shrugged and continued just as bluntly, “We gotta face facts here, guys. Collectively, you boys have not been easy on the help.”

The boys exchanged disgruntled looks. “That’s ’cause we don’t like them,” Will growled finally, standing and looking immensely irritated at being forced to stick around.

Abruptly, Sam realized he was missing a son. “Where did Brad go?” he demanded irritably. How was he supposed to have a family meeting if one or another of the boys kept running off whenever he turned his head?

“He’s where he always is, upstairs on the phone with a girl,” Lewis said.

Will paced aimlessly, tossing his football around. “He’s in a panic cause he’s only got one date so far tonight instead of the usual three.”

Irked to find even the smallest details of his life unmanageable, Sam strode to the front of the house and bellowed up the stairs, “Brad, get down here now!”

Footsteps rumbled across the third, then the second floor. Reeking of aftershave, Brad appeared at the head of the stairs, the phone glued to his ear. “But, Da-ad…”

“Now, Brad!” Sam ordered.

Outside, a car door slammed. In tandem, the boys rushed to the window and peered out. “Kate’s here—” Lewis reported, looking happy to see her.

Brad stopped checking his reflection long enough to look out the window. He let out a wolf whistle. “Man, oh, man…”

“Brad…” Sam warned.

“We’re serious, Dad,” Riley added, his jaw dropping open in amazement. “You ought to see her.”

That was just it, Sam thought wearily, the dread inside him increasing by leaps and bounds. He didn’t want to see Kate. At all.

KATE KNEW SAM and his boys were desperate for help the first time she’d met with them at the hospital after Kevin’s accident. That impression had been reinforced when she’d come to the house to talk to Sam alone. Kate had been hoping Sam and the boys would clean up a bit before she arrived. They hadn’t.

Technically, of course, the contemporary Victorian home with the slate-blue paint, white trim and dark gray roof, was one of the largest and loveliest homes in Laramie. Or at least it had been when Ellie was alive. Sam had inherited the place from his folks. But it was Ellie who had, over the years they’d lived in Dallas, made it into an elegant summer and holiday retreat for the family.

A waist-high white-picket fence placed just inside the sidewalk that ran along the street framed the large square lot. Live oak trees shaded the front yard. Low-lying juniper and holly bushes edged the porch. The flower beds had been filled with an astonishing profusion of Texas wildflowers that bloomed year after year with little care. Some, like the Texas bluebonnets, bloomed in early spring. While the Indian paintbrush, shasta daisies, scarlet sage, rocket larkspur, baby’s breath and pink evening primrose bloomed all summer long and into the fall.

A rope-hung swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the trees. On the wide shady porch that adorned the front and both sides of the large, three-story Victorian home, were comfortable groupings of cushioned wicker furniture. Ellie had worked hard to make it warm and welcoming.

Kate shuddered to think what Ellie would make of the unkempt condition of the home now. The grass was thick with weeds and hadn’t been cut in several weeks. Bats, balls, bikes, skateboards, lacrosse sticks, a soccer ball and goals were strewn across the front yard. Worse than the disarray, was the air of neglect. Spiderwebs clung to the porch ceiling. A wasp’s nest had started atop one of the shutters. The glass had been broken out of one of the old-fashioned porch lamps and the windows were covered with a thick layer of dirt and smudges. And that was just the outside. Knowing the inside was in even worse shape, Kate squared her shoulders, shoved her sunglasses atop her head and rang the bell.

The front door opened and Sam’s boys filed out en masse. Despite the fact they were still grieving Ellie’s death intensely in their private moments, all were glowing with good health and physical strength and tons of somewhat misguided energy. They were an intelligent, handsome group of boys, with Sam’s dark hair and Ellie’s soft eyes.

Kate greeted them all in turn. Although they’d been happy enough to speak with her at the hospital during the aftermath of Kevin’s accident, to her dismay they did not seem anywhere near as enthusiastic to see her now. Probably because she was going to be the family housekeeper, aka Hired Gun, for the next few days.

Tension radiated from Sam McCabe as he stepped out onto the porch.

He was wearing neatly pressed olive-green slacks and a sport shirt in a slightly lighter hue. His face was clean-shaven and his short brown hair had been combed away from his face in a no-nonsense style that mirrored the look on his ruggedly handsome face. His dark brown eyes were shadowed with a fatigue that seemed months old. In previous summers his face had always been tanned. This year he looked as if he hadn’t spent a second outdoors. His lips pressed together thinly, Sam continued to regard Kate in a way that was meant to intimidate.

“Now can I go?” Will asked Sam impatiently.

“No,” Sam answered his oldest son, his implacable gaze totally centered on Kate’s face. “No one leaves here until after dinner.”

Kate had been hoping Sam McCabe would greet her with more enthusiasm than he had shown when she had pressured him into letting her help out. Obviously, she conceded silently, that wasn’t going to happen.

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.

“That would be great, Lewis.” Kate smiled. “Thank you.”

She was nearly finished cleaning up the kitchen when Sam walked in. Doing her best to hide the discouragement she felt about the way things were going thus far, she said, “I made up a plate for you.”

As he opened the refrigerator door, Sam gave the food a dismissive glance. “I’ll get it later.” He took out a cold beer and a single serving of string cheese. “I just put Help Wanted ads in all the major Texas newspapers.”

Kate closed the dishwasher and tried not to think how easily his six-foot-four frame dwarfed her own five-foot-seven inches. She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re not going through an agency this time?”

Sam shook his head, his dark eyes grim. “Been there, done that,” he said, sounding exhausted.

“In other words, you’ve been blacklisted.”

“Something like that, yeah,” he said dryly.

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

Tensing visibly from head to toe, Sam twisted off the beer cap, and tossed it into the trash. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because the three older boys are just a tad hostile,” Kate said sweetly. And so are you.

“I thought they liked you,” he remarked.

That was the irony of it, Kate admitted reluctantly. She and the boys had started off fine…at the hospital. Had Sam only consented to bring them there for group counseling, she and the kids might still be communicating fine. But he hadn’t. She’d had to go to them. Invade what was essentially hostile territory. As a result they’d gone so far backward in the trust department it was going to take days to recover lost ground. This could have been avoided, had Sam welcomed her into their home and their lives, or even given his boys the slightest hint he thought she might be able to help them deal with losing Ellie. Instead, he had worked to make things that much worse, and succeeded.

Aware Sam was still waiting for an explanation, Kate struggled to contain her frustration. She knew she had come on strong, but it had been necessary. The boys needed to know they couldn’t walk all over her the way they had their previous housekeepers. They had to know that even though their mother was gone, there were still rules.

“I think they did like me until I tried to come in and take Ellie’s place.”

Sam’s expression hardened as he took a swig of beer. “No one can do that,” he warned grimly. “However, I will find someone who can run the house.”

“And until then?” Kate challenged, knowing, even if Sam didn’t, the boys needed much more than clean clothes, good food and a tidy environment to get over the loss of their mom.

Sam glared at her and took another long drink. “What’s your point?”

Finding it awkward to talk about something so intimate when he was standing all the way across the kitchen, Kate stepped toward him and lowered her voice. “When was the last time you and the boys did something together as a family, Sam?”

“I don’t know.” Resentment glimmered in his eyes. “Why?”

“Are you telling me it was so long ago you can’t remember?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Sam said stonily, pushing away from her, “except to mind your own business.”

“So we can’t even talk about the boys?”

He straightened, towering over her, intimidating her with his height and weight and strength. “You got that right.”

“What about Ellie?” Kate persisted, deliberately pushing his buttons, to bring his emotions closer to the surface. She edged closer, mimicking his kick-butt stance. “Are we allowed to talk about her?”

“Ellie’s gone, Kate,” Sam said, the edgy expression on his face intense. “No amount of talking is going to bring her back.”

No wonder the family was such a wreck, Kate thought on a beleaguered sigh. Not only had they all suffered a major loss, they were following Sam’s lead and keeping all their grief locked deep inside.

Sam took a long drink of his beer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, letting her know with a glance they were changing the subject—now. “I have to be out of here early tomorrow.”

Kate ignored the curtness of his voice and the feeling that he didn’t want her—or any other woman—in his house any more than his three older sons did. It wouldn’t be easy living in such a hostile environment, even for a few days. “How early?” she asked.

“4:00 a.m.”

Kate waited, but to her mounting frustration no explanation was forthcoming. Was this typical of his schedule? she wondered, as she turned and headed back to the sink. Something being enacted just for her behalf? Part of the “test” he was expecting her to fail? Or a once-in-a-while occurrence? He gave her no clue. Because he seemed to be expecting some reaction from her, she utilized the most professional response that came to mind. “Do you want me to get up and cook breakfast for you?” Is that what he wanted from her?

Sam did a double take. Obviously not the reaction he had been looking for. “No,” Sam said as he helped himself to some whole wheat crackers.

So you’re not going to make this easy on me, either, Kate thought as she fished the dishrag out of the sudsy water and wrung it out with both hands. “When do the boys get up in the morning?” she asked as she began to wipe down the kitchen table.

Still ignoring the dinner plate she’d made for him, Sam polished off the crackers, drained the rest of his beer, and reached for another long-necked brown bottle. “Generally, the older four sleep as late as they can, since it’s summer, although that will change starting this week when their extracurricular activities kick into full pre-season throttle with daily rehearsals and stuff. Kev gets up around seven-thirty—like clockwork.”

“I’ll set my alarm for six, then,” Kate promised, briskly wiping down the already-wiped black granite countertops. Finished, she flipped the cloth back into the sink and wiped her hands on a towel. “If Kev needs me before that, wakes with a bad dream or something, and you’re already gone, will he know to come to me?”

“I’ll tell him when I tuck him in.” Sam paused to twist open his second beer. “As for tomorrow specifically, I don’t know what any of the boys has on the agenda. Although Will may have said something about an early football practice….”

“I’ll find out and handle it,” Kate promised.

Sam lapsed into a brooding silence. Kate looked into his face and read his unease. Odds were he was thinking about her inexperience in the homemaking arena, worried she couldn’t handle his crew. She’d prove him wrong if it was the last thing she did. And once she conquered that, she’d win his confidence as a professional therapist and start to work on their grief.

LATE SUNDAY EVENING while Mike was over at the high school working on the physical training program and practice schedule for the entire season, Joyce Marten spread sample styles of wedding invitations across her dining-room table.

She was determined Kate would have the most perfect wedding Laramie, Texas, had ever seen. She had promised Kate that she and Kate’s father would “take care of everything,” from the invitations to the reception. She didn’t want her daughter worrying about anything during what should be the happiest time of her life. Joyce knew what it was like to have parents who weren’t the least bit interested in their child’s life.

Joyce had grown up in a chaotic, two-career household where the only thing that could be absolutely counted on was the constant bickering between her two very strong-willed, domestically disinclined parents. Early on, Joyce had decided she was not going to let that happen in her own adult life. When she married Mike and had his children, she made homemaking—instead of an outside career—her priority, ensuring their home was a cozy, warm and welcoming place where hot meals and clean sheets were to be counted on. She did whatever she needed to do to keep the peace between Mike and herself and the kids. It wasn’t easy, given Mike’s overprotective attitude where his kids were concerned. He felt he knew what was best for them in every situation and no one was going to tell him any different.

But Joyce had managed just fine, keeping everyone happy and healthy and reasonably content, until the summer before Pete’s senior year of high school. Then, for reasons she still didn’t completely understand, everything had fallen apart. Tension between Pete and Mike escalated day by day until Pete’s death. And Joyce had been powerless to stop it.

She saw the same potential for family conflict arising from Kate’s involvement with Sam McCabe and his boys. Mike still resented Sam for his role in Pete’s death. He felt, more than anyone, that Sam had had the potential to prevent the accident, and hadn’t. In Mike’s mind, Sam was part of the reason Pete had died, and the last thing Mike wanted was Kate under Sam’s roof, even temporarily.

But how to get Kate out of there without causing a rift between herself and Kate, Joyce didn’t know. Especially since Kate was every bit as headstrong as her father. She couldn’t just tell Kate not to do it. Mike had already tried that and it hadn’t worked. And now Kate was, if not angry at her father, at least very exasperated and upset with him. Joyce couldn’t get Mike to change his attitude, either. If she even tried, they would end up having an argument. So here she was, Joyce thought, powerless and caught in the middle again. And all this with Kate’s wedding coming up….

Outside, Joyce heard a door slam. Seconds later Mike strode in the back door. “I drove by Sam McCabe’s place on the way home,” he reported gruffly, coming into the dining room where she was working. “Kate’s car is parked out front.”

Joyce put down a lovely ivory parchment invitation with a filigreed gold leaf design. “I don’t know why you’re surprised about that,” she said gently. “Kate told us this afternoon she was going to do this, whether we approved of her actions or not.”

Mike sat at the table, opposite Joyce. “I was hoping she would change her mind when she found out how much we both disapproved of what she’s doing. Failing that, I hoped Craig would be able to talk her out of it.” Mike shook his head disparagingly. “What’s wrong with that boy, anyway?”

The last thing Joyce wanted was for Mike to find fault with Craig who, up to now, anyway, had been very high on Mike’s approval list. “I’m sure he just trusts her judgment,” Joyce said gently as she picked up a pale blue invitation with embossed wedding bells on the front and navy ink.

“There’s a difference between trusting your woman and handing her over to another man,” Mike replied sagely.

Joyce paused to give Mike a level look. “Craig is not handing her over to Sam.”

Mike took off his coach’s cap and set it on the table. “He may as well be.”

“Kate’s not going to do anything to disrupt her upcoming marriage to Craig.”

Mike leaned forward urgently, elbows on the table. “I’m not saying it would be deliberate. But let’s review facts here. Kate loves helping people. She loves being needed and knowing she’s making a difference. And God knows, Sam McCabe needs help with his kids in the wake of Ellie’s death. That’s why he moved back to Laramie. You put Kate there for a couple weeks, when she’s on vacation and should be off somewhere with Craig—” Mike snapped his fingers and looked all the more disgruntled and upset. “Kate could get emotionally involved with Sam and his boys before she knows what is happening.”

Joyce pushed her own uneasiness away. “She probably will get closer to all of them. That doesn’t mean Sam is going to try to steal her away from Craig and marry her himself.”

“But he might take advantage of her.”

Under normal circumstances Joyce would have said that was impossible. But these weren’t normal circumstances, Joyce admitted silently to herself as she began gathering up her things. Kate wasn’t doing this on a professional basis, but as a friend of Ellie’s, and that put a personal emotional tilt on the situation that would not have been there otherwise. She had been away from Craig for more than nine months now. And although Kate never complained about the long separations, Joyce could tell Kate was finding them increasingly hard to take, which in turn made her not just lonely but vulnerable in a way her daughter had yet to admit.

There was also the secret crush Kate had had on Sam McCabe when she was just a kid. Mike didn’t know about that. And, Joyce was pretty sure, neither had Sam. But Joyce had seen the way Kate’s face would light up whenever Sam came over to toss the football around with Pete. The way Kate had hung on Sam’s every word or deed. Unfortunately, because he had been a good five years older than Kate, Sam had never seen Kate as anything more than Pete’s pesky kid sister. And then, when Pete had died, Sam had stopped coming around altogether.

Other crushes had followed. And eventually Kate had started dating Craig. But a girl never forgot a first crush. And that was what worried Joyce. But, figuring Mike was upset enough without knowing any of that, Joyce rose and carried the stack of sample invitations to the rolltop desk in the corner of the living room. Mike followed her and, still brooding, watched as she put everything away.

“Kate is not going to let Sam use her to ease his grief,” she said firmly, doing her best to soothe Mike’s fears. “She wouldn’t let anyone do that. She’s got too much self-respect. Plus, they’ll be well chaperoned by the boys.”

“I hope you’re right,” Mike sighed.

Joyce closed the distance between them. She turned her face up to his and fanned her hands across his chest. More than anything, she wanted this new tension in her family to just go away. “I know I’m right,” she said with quiet confidence.

“And how is that?” Mike demanded gruffly, taking Joyce all the way into his arms. He looked down at her, smiling just a little as he waited for her reply.

Joyce leaned her head against Mike’s chest, loving the warmth and strength and smell of him. “Because starting tomorrow, I’m going to be keeping an eye on the situation there, while I help Kate with her wedding plans. And before you know it, Craig will be home on leave, too.” Those two things combined would work to keep Kate’s heart focused firmly on her own future. Joyce was sure of it.

“WILL?” The urgent whisper sounded outside Will’s bedroom door.

“Are you up? Come on. Let us in.”

Will groaned at the sound of Brad’s and Riley’s voices. He wasn’t asleep yet but the last thing he wanted to do was be bothered by those two troublemakers. He rolled over and put the covers over his head, feigning deafness.

Too late, the lock gave under the persistent fiddling from the other side. His bedroom door eased open. Lewis and Brad and Riley tiptoed in, flashlights in hand, whipped back the covers, and hunkered down beside Will’s bed. “We’re having a secret meeting,” Riley announced.

“Yeah, and we need you to come.” Lewis sent Will a pleading glance.

Will had an idea why Lewis wanted him there. He wanted someone to talk some sense into Brad and Riley, because while Lewis liked to be part of the “group” he didn’t like to get chewed out or grounded. And whatever mischief Brad and Riley were concocting for Kate Marten’s first night under their roof was probably going to cause both things to happen, Will thought. Dad would hit the ceiling. And some—if not all of them—would end up on some sort of restriction. Will had had enough of that the past six months to last him a lifetime. Even when he’d had nothing to do with it, he’d ended up getting blamed just because he was the oldest. He glared at the three of them. “Next person who unlocks my door is going to get a fist for breakfast. Now get out of here.”

Lewis looked disappointed. Brad and Riley remained unperturbed. “Fine. Be that way.” Brad shrugged, already heading for the door.

“Yeah, your loss,” Riley warned. “You’re going to miss some fun.” Together, they eased from his room as stealthily as they had entered.

Will flipped onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. He wished he could have some fun. But now that he was living in Laramie, there wasn’t much chance of that. All of his friends were back in Dallas.

He could have vetoed the move here. Persuaded his dad they should stay in Dallas. But he hadn’t because he was tired of seeing the pitying glances of his friends and teachers, tired of being reminded everywhere he went, in everything he did, that his mom had died. And he’d known, with his senior year coming up, and all the senior activities scheduled that it was only going to get worse.

He wasn’t the only one feeling the pain. It had been just as bad for his brothers and his dad. So once school was out, they’d taken a vote and decided to move back to Laramie, to their house there. To see if that was any better.

In a sense it was. In Laramie, he really felt part of the McCabe clan in a way he never had in Dallas, and Will liked being closer to Aunt Lilah and Uncle John, their four sons and their families. It gave him a sense of belonging he hadn’t had since his mom had died.

What he didn’t like was the way he was constantly being compared to his dad. Since they had moved back here at the beginning of July, Will had been told he looked like his dad, acted like his dad, and as far as some people were concerned, might as well have been his dad “at that age.”

Will just didn’t see it.

Okay, so there was some physical resemblance. He had seen pictures of his dad at seventeen. Admittedly, they did look a lot alike. But any similarities ended there. Will couldn’t have cared less about computers or business or any of that. He wasn’t going to grow up to be a workaholic who knew more about what was going on at work than he did in his own home. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to get so wrapped up in any one woman that he couldn’t seem to function without her. There was a place for females in his life. But no female was going to be his life. Any girlfriend he had from this point forward would just have to understand that.

Meantime, Will sighed, looking at the clock and seeing another half-hour had passed, he had to get some sleep if he was going to be worth a damn at practice tomorrow. Knowing there was only one way that would happen anytime soon, Will got up and went to his closet. He reached for the duffel bag beneath the pile of clothes and magazines and brought it out just far enough to get what he needed before he headed back to bed.