Maid in Montana

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 narrowed 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 stopped walking. Actually that wasn’t funny. In less than a day, she’d already gotten him to sit down to a breakfast he didn’t want, withhold a reprimand for not keeping her baby out of his sight and engage in a personal discussion about her parents. She’d grown up looking and listening for clues of how her parents felt. If he spent too much time in her company, she’d sense he was hiding something and she might even make it her life’s mission to get him to talk about it so she could help him.

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.

“Have a seat.”

She sat with a smile. A big smile. He wouldn’t have called her into his office unless he had something important to discuss. She had to show him that no matter what he wanted she’d do her best to accommodate him. No matter what he said, she would agree.

He sat on the big leather chair behind the desk. “I’ve decided to modify your duties.”

Great! More work! Finally a way to prove herself! If she had any luck, he’d changed his mind about breakfast. She was a much better cook than housekeeper, and breakfast was her specialty. She could easily impress him with omelets and waffles. If he’d simply add breakfast into her duties, he’d beg her to stay the entire year of their contract.

“I’m taking all cooking off your list of responsibilities.”

All the breath whooshed out of Sophie’s lungs. “What?”

“The cooking. I’m taking it off your list of job duties. You have plenty to do without it.”

“No, I don’t!”

He fiddled with some papers on his desk, then looked up at her. “Yes, you do.” He leaned back in the seat. “You were surprised this morning when I didn’t get up with the sun because you thought that’s what ranchers do.”

Heartsick because she’d lost her best way to impress him, Sophie nodded.

“Usually that’s true, but in our case I don’t really run the Silver Saddle. I run the ranch management company that owns the Silver Saddle. As ranch foreman, Slim gets up and gets the day going with the hands. That’s what every foreman at every ranch my company manages does. I personally don’t run the ranches. I have great foremen who do that.”

“And what do you do?”

“I market my business.” He sat up again, leaning forward on his desk, obviously comfortable talking about his company, looking like a lethal combination of sexy rancher and savvy businessman. “This house,” he said, pointing around in a circle, “is a big part of my marketing plan. Remember, during the interview I told you I had frequent guests?”

“Yes.”

“The guests are wealthy people who buy ranches so that they have a private country retreat. Somewhere they can go and be themselves. Be comfortable. But after a year or so of owning a ranch, they realize how much trouble it is to run it, so they go looking for somebody like me. Or a company like mine. We do the work for the ranch. They reap the benefits.”

“I’m still not sure what this has to do with me.”

“If it were just me living here, I wouldn’t have a housekeeper. I’d let the dust pile up. But because of my guests I need the place to be clean. Which means you’re part of the business. You’re not really a maid. You’re more of an extension of the ranch management company, making sure everything sparkles for clients.” He relaxed and leaned back on his chair again. “So that’s all I want you to do.”

Knowing he was waiting for a reaction from her, Sophie stalled for time by running her tongue along her lips. A smart woman would simply say okay. Sophie told herself to say okay. To smile. To accept his order. Not to argue that cooking was her forte and if he’d just allow her cook for him, he’d never let her leave.

She took a breath. Told herself again to simply say, “Okay.”

Just say okay!

She opened her mouth, but instead of her one-word agreement, she found herself saying, “This is because of Brady, isn’t it?” But once the words were out of her mouth, she wasn’t sorry. The guy was going to fire her for something that wasn’t her fault and she’d be damned if she’d roll over and play dead.

“No.”

“Yes. It is.” She rose from her seat and leaned across the desk. “You didn’t even look at him this morning.”

He rose, pressed his hands on his desk and leaned toward her. “I asked you to keep him away from me. If we push everything else aside in this discussion, the bottom line is you disobeyed an order from your boss. Now you’re paying the consequences.”

“But Brady’s a sweet kid!” She paused, drew in a breath. “You know what? Maybe if you’d spend some time with him you might get a little sweeter.”

He gaped at her. “Are you kidding me? After disobeying a direct order, now you’re sassing?”

Sophie reared back and pressed her palm to her mouth. In her zeal to prove that she could work with Brady, she’d forgotten that he didn’t want the baby in the room. But he was right about the sassing. That didn’t help her cause at all. And she knew better. But when it came to Brady, her motherly instincts always surprised her.

He sighed. “Look, I have potential clients arriving in three weeks. What I need… No, what the business needs is for this big house to be clean, looking like the perfect retreat from the hustle and bustle of a busy life. After that you can leave. I’ll even give you the thousand dollars. I just want you and your baby gone.”

Tears filled her eyes. She was being fired because she had a baby. She shook her head in disbelief. “He doesn’t talk. If he makes a sound it’s a gurgle of happiness. How could you possibly be opposed to that?”

“It doesn’t matter. This is my ranch. My business and my home. I set the rules. I told you I didn’t want to see your baby, but you either chose not to keep him out of my way or couldn’t keep him out of my way as requested. The arrangement failed.” He leaned back in his chair again. “Now, you can stay three weeks because I do need the house cleaned for the clients, and I’m even giving you the extra thousand you asked for. But after that you’re gone. I won’t have a baby here.”

CHAPTER THREE

SOPHIE watched television until eleven that night, hoping to make herself tired. But even after hours of mindless TV her upset over losing her job made her too restless to go to bed.

After checking to make sure Brady was in a deep sleep, she slid into her one-piece bathing suit and the matching terry-cloth cover-up then grabbed the portable baby monitor from the bedside table. Slim had shown her a swimming pool when he gave her the tour of the house and said she was free to use it. Of course, that was before she had been fired, but she didn’t care. She was restless and needed to make herself tired. She was having a swim.

She opened the door to her suite slowly, not wanting to run in to anyone since her cover-up was short and she felt uncomfortable walking around only half dressed.

Common sense told her she had no reason to fear. It was late. She was on the first floor. Her boss’s suite of rooms was on the second floor. Slim had a cabin behind the homestead. Only a few hands actually slept in the bunkhouse, but even they were so far from the house that no one would see her. She was perfectly safe.

She took a breath, stole down the short hall that led to the kitchen and then slipped into the family room with French doors that led to the pool. In another two steps, she was standing on the stone patio.

Silence descended on her like a warm blanket. The city always had sound. Background noise. A person might grow accustomed to it and not “hear” it, but it was always there. On this ranch, so far away from civilization, she learned the meaning of the word silence.

Removing her cover-up, she glanced around in awe. Except for dim lights illuminating the blue water of the pool, this world was also inky-black. Remembering something about seeing stars in the country, she quickly glanced up and sighed.

“Oh, my gosh.”

“Oh, my gosh what?”

On a gasp, Sophie spun around to find Jeb walking out of the shadows behind her. Water flattened his thick black hair and droplets cascaded from his shoulders and down his broad chest, making trails through whorls of dark hair leading to six-pack abs. Wet black swimming trucks clung precariously to lean hips and a butt made for a woman to sink her fingernails into in the throes of passion.

Even as her mouth went dry, she groaned inwardly. How could she be attracted to the man who had just fired her?

“Oh, my gosh what?” He repeated his question as he walked over to her, stopping within arm’s reach.

Awareness shimmied through her. With her cover-up in her hand and wearing only her bathing suit, she wasn’t quite as naked as he was, but they were both scantily dressed, alone, in the darkness.

She pulled in a breath. This was ridiculous. Not only were they were both sufficiently covered, but also she was furious with him and he clearly didn’t like her. There was no reason to remind him of that, but she wouldn’t cower from him, either.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “The stars. There are so many.”

“You have big city syndrome,” he growled, back to being the grouchy boss. “The sky is always lit over a city, blocking one of nature’s greatest gifts. A starry night.”

He looked up into the star-spangled darkness and her gaze skimmed his broad chest and perfect tummy. He was, quite literally, the sexiest man she’d ever seen.

“Yeah. We certainly don’t have stars like this in the city.” She swallowed, desperately trying to will away her attraction. He was a self-centered grouch, who had fired her. He was the last person she wanted to feel anything for. But she couldn’t deny that being this close to him, her whole body hummed. She told herself it was just plain foolish to be attracted to a man she didn’t even like. Yet, here she stood, her breathing erratic, her nerve endings on red alert.

“I’ll go back to my room.”

He snatched a huge green towel from a nearby chaise. “No, I’ll go. I’m done with my swim. In about ten seconds the patio will be all yours.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from her. There was no way she’d force him to leave his own swimming pool. No way she’d give him another thing to complain about. “No. That’s okay. You stay. I only came out here to get a breath of fresh air.”

She watched his gaze move from her face, down her one-piece suit, pausing on the length of leg exposed beneath the high-cut bottom.

“If you only came out for fresh air, then why are you in a swimsuit?”

Her breathing, which had been erratic, stalled in her chest. His voice might have been strong, detached, but the look he’d given her had been long and slow. He’d taken in every square inch of her and lingered on the part of her that usually drew a man—her legs.

She swallowed.

Knowing she had to get herself out of this and quickly, she tried to fall back on humor. “All right. You caught me. I’m guilty as charged. I wanted a quick swim, but I didn’t realize you were using the pool or I wouldn’t have come out.”

He took a step closer. “I didn’t picture you as the one-piece suit type. I figured you more for a bikini girl.”

Another nervous laugh escaped her. Was it her imagination, or was he flirting with her? If he made a pass at her, she wasn’t sure if she would melt or faint.

Of course, she could be jumping to conclusions. One little comment didn’t necessarily mean he was flirting. He could actually be confused by her choice of swimwear.

“Why a bikini?”

“Don’t you surf?”

“No.”

“Hum. A California girl who doesn’t surf. Another myth debunked.”

Relief skittered through her. He wasn’t flirting but confused by her. She could breathe again. “You think all California girls surf?”

He caught her gaze, his pale eyes soft and serious in the moonlight. “Yes.”

Realization of how close they were slid over her. He was a very different man when he wasn’t yelling at her. In fact, from the way he was looking at her she’d never guess he had a problem with her at all.

She licked her suddenly dry lips, feeling reactions and emotions that were more instinctive than conscious. Her eyes desperately wanted to move down again, soak in the beauty and masculinity of his chest, and she struggled to keep them locked with his. Her nerve endings sparkled like the stars overhead.

He stepped back, his gaze still locked with hers. “You’d do well to remember that I’m a grouch and check to make sure the pool isn’t occupied the next time you want to swim.”

Embarrassment poured through her in a rush of heat. So much for him being a different man when he wasn’t yelling.

But even if he couldn’t rise above their differences, she could. “I’m sorry. Next time I want to swim I’ll ask.”

“There’s no reason to ask. Just remember that I swim every night around ten-thirty and we’ll be fine.”

Though his words were appropriate, his voice went back to being soft, hypnotic, resurrecting the sprinkle of gooseflesh that covered her body. She peeked at him, confused again. What was going on here?

Before she could say anything, he turned to the French doors and within seconds was gone.

She shook her head. If she didn’t desperately need the money she’d get working here for three weeks, she might be tempted to simply pack her bags and go now. But she did need the money. Not for herself, but for her child. Once again, her motherly instincts won out. But as soon as she had her three weeks pay and the extra thousand dollars, she was out of here.

The next morning, Jeb waited until he heard Sophie head upstairs before he walked into a blissfully empty kitchen. He poured himself a cup of the coffee she’d brewed, and with a huge sigh of relief made his way to his office.