DONNA ALWARD - A Family for the Rugged Rancher / Soldier on Her Doorstep - A Family for the Rugged Rancher / Soldier on Her Doorstep

“So what’s the story of Emily Northcott?” Luke folded up the dish towel and hung it over the door of the stove. “I mean, you must have a place in Calgary. Sam’s father must be helping. Why pick a position that takes you away from home?”

Of course he’d ask right at the moment she’d decided not to mention Rob again. But the question struck a nerve. Somehow she wanted him to know. She wanted him to realize that she had tried everything she could to make things right. She already thought of him as stubborn rancher, a bit of a strong, silent type but she’d glimpsed moments of compassion, too. How would he remember her after she moved on? Not as a victim. Never that. She wanted him to see what she wanted to see in herself. Strength. Resourcefulness. Pride, but not vanity.

“I was a stay-at-home mom. Once I got pregnant and my ex started working, we agreed on a plan. I had my degree in science, and I put Rob through school by working for a laboratory. The idea was for him to start work and then he’d support me as I took my pharmacy degree. But then we had Sam, and Rob said he would support us both. I was thrilled. Having Sam changed everything. Being his mom was the best job I’d ever had. I know it’s not a job in the strict sense, but I really felt like I was doing something important, making a home for us, bringing him up. And I was thankful to have that choice. I know not everyone does.”

Remembering those days stung. Rob had pretended the arrangement was perfect, but in the end it wasn’t what he’d wanted. Emily had been too blind to see it until it was too late. “And then he left.”

She cast a furtive look at the stairway, knowing Sam was asleep but still worried that if he woke up he’d hear her talking.

Luke followed her gaze. “You don’t want him to hear us talking about it?”

Emily nodded, relieved he’d taken the hint so quickly. “He’s been through enough. He’s asleep, but any mention of his dad and he gets so upset.”

“He thinks his dad doesn’t like him.”

Her head snapped around. “What?”

“He told me. He said I don’t like him and his dad doesn’t like him and that he does just fine.” He pinned her with a steady look. “He’s quite a kid, actually. But it made me wonder. Are you fine, Emily?”

She ignored the question, instead focusing on thoughts of Sam. Did he really believe that? That his father didn’t like him? Sadness warred with anger at the situation. She hated that he didn’t feel loved by both parents.

“I’m sorry he said that to you,” she whispered, faltering for a moment, letting the despair in for just a second. Then she closed it away. There was nothing productive in feeling sorry for herself. “I’ll have him apologize, Luke.”

His gaze darkened and his jaw tightened. “No need. He was just being honest. He’s a good kid. You’ve done a good job with him. It’s not easy being a single parent.”

The compliment went to her heart. “Thank you. But I worry about what he’s missing. If I’m enough, you know?”

“You just do the best you can.”

She leaned back against the counter, looked up at Luke, wondering at the tight tone of his voice. What did he know of it? And yet she got the feeling he somehow understood. “I can’t even put food on the table at the moment,” she admitted.

His face flattened with alarm. “It’s that bad?”

“Let’s go outside,” she suggested. Luke was standing too close again and she needed the fresh air and open space.

They left the porch light off to keep the Junebugs away, and Emily sat on the step, letting the first stars provide the light while they waited for last dregs of twilight to fade and the moon to rise. She had been at the ranch for two days, and the whole time Luke had felt like a boss, or like a complete stranger. But not tonight. Tonight he felt like an ally, despite the fact that they barely knew one another. It had been a long time since she’d had an ally. Since she’d had an unbiased ear to talk to.

Emily breathed in the fresh prairie air and the heavy scent of lilacs. “I love these,” she said quietly. “Nothing smells better than lilacs.”

Luke sat down beside her and the air warmed.

“My mother planted them,” he said, putting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands. “I’m not much for flower gardens, I don’t have time. But I’ve always tried to keep her lilacs. They smelled nice on the table tonight. Mom used to do that, too.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died when I was nineteen. Brain aneurism.”

Emily heard the grief in his voice even though it had to be ten years or more since her death. “I’m sorry, Luke.”

He coughed. “It’s all right. Right now we’re talking about you. And why your ex was crazy enough to leave you and Sam and not even provide for both of you.”

His words reached inside and illuminated a place that had been dark for a very long time.

“When he left, I had to start looking for work. No one wanted someone who hadn’t been in the workplace for five years. Technology has changed. I had no references—the staff where I’d worked was all new. Rob hasn’t paid a dime in child support.” She twisted her fingers together as she looked over at Luke. “Not one.”

“Surely a judge …”

Emily laughed bitterly. “Oh, yes. But it was an Alberta court and Rob moved to British Columbia. And I don’t have the funds to fight him on it.”

“I’m sorry. Of course you’ve had a difficult time of it.”

She hadn’t anticipated a helping hand and a caring tone. Not from a stranger. In a few stolen moments, Luke Evans had shown her more consideration than she’d had from any other quarter in several months. Then she reminded herself that she had promised to rely only on herself and she straightened her shoulders.

“It could have been worse,” she admitted. “He didn’t hurt us. Not physically. He just left. Said our life wasn’t what he wanted and he was starting over.”

“It doesn’t always take punches to leave scars.”

And, oh, she knew he was right. “Rob did lots of damage. They’re just the kinds of scars that you can’t see. I think they take longer to heal, too. The money is a practical difficulty, but the real kicker is how he has washed his hands of Sam. Sam is his son. I don’t understand how a dad does that, Luke. I don’t understand how I could have been so wrong. His abandonment made me question every single thing I thought I’d known about myself.”

Luke was silent for a few moments. Then he said quietly, “You can’t blame yourself for everything.”

Emily wanted him to see she wasn’t the kind of woman who let life happen to her. She was resourceful. But the kind way he was treating her was throwing her off balance. She’d wanted to create distance between them and instead she felt that he understood, perhaps even better than her friends in Calgary had. How was that possible?

The Junebugs thumped against the screen door, trying to get inside to the light that shone from the kitchen. Luke got up and brushed a hand down his jeans. “Let’s walk,” he suggested.

They strolled down the lane towards the road, past the mowed grass and to a cedar fence that was ornamental rather than functional. At the bottom Luke turned to her and she swallowed, feeling out of her league being alone with him like this. Unlike the fence, his appearance was for function rather than flash and just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, from the shorn hair to the faded jeans and dark T-shirt. The shirt clung in such a way that she could see the shape of his muscles, made strong by years of farm work. The sight of him with the moon behind him was something she knew she’d carry with her for a long time, burned on her mind as surely as the straightforward E of the Evans brand.