Sophie’s eyes were dark, smoky, sexy. Her complexion smooth, perfect. Her lips plump, kissable. Jeb’s heart speeded up, scrambling his pulse.

He told himself to pull away and get the hell out. But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Barely breathed. Not because she was so pretty, or even because she was suddenly so close. But because she had the same look of confusion on her face that he was sure was on his.

Her baby yelped, and Jeb jumped as if someone had exploded a firecracker. He grabbed his files and headed for the door without a word. What could he say? I nearly made the biggest mistake of my life and kissed you? An employee? A woman with a baby? He couldn’t believe he’d almost kissed her. How would he ever explain it to the woman who looked as confused by the attraction as he was?

Susan Meier spent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopper—until she began to write and realised everything that had come before was only research! One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan has had plenty of real-life experience watching romance blossom in unexpected ways. She lives in Western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband, Mike, three children, and two over-fed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy. You can visit Susan’s website at www.susanmeier.com

﻿

MAID IN
MONTANA

BY

SUSAN MEIER

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

JEB WORTHINGTON watched the aging sport utility vehicle chug up the tree-lined road leading to his ranch. He pulled on his horse’s reins, stopping Jezebel, and reached for his small binoculars.

Yep. Just as he suspected. His new housekeeper, Sophie Penazzi, had arrived.

Adjusting the glasses, he watched her get out of the car, taking in her straight, shoulder-length brown hair that, if he remembered correctly, was a color almost identical to the dark brown of her eyes.

She stretched, working the kinks out of her back and shoulders from the long drive. The smooth, even tan of her skin brought visions of her in a bikini, rushing into the crashing waves of the Pacific, surfboard under her arm. It didn’t surprise him that he’d envision her that way. Not only did her résumé list her home as Malibu, but also there was a part of him that would pay very good money to see her perfect bottom in a bikini.

He dropped the glasses to his thigh. Those were exactly the kinds of things he could not— would not—think about his new housekeeper. He’d lost the last one because she’d made a pass at him and he’d fired her. But instead of admitting she’d been let go because she’d tried to use her position as a springboard to becoming mistress of the house, Maria had promptly gone into town and trashed his reputation, claiming she’d quit because he was a grouch, too difficult to work for. The only way he’d recoup his standing with the locals would be to be nice to this new housekeeper, proving Maria had lied.

But being nice came with trouble of its own. Or maybe better said: Being nice to a live-in employee came with rules of its own. A line had to be drawn. He didn’t want to be accused of sexual harassment or even flirting. And he wouldn’t. He’d find a middle ground.

He nudged Jezebel, urging her to increase her pace.

Sophie bent into the rear compartment of her SUV. After setting several suitcases on the ground behind her vehicle, she lifted out an odd looking thing covered in net, at least four feet long and flat as a pancake. From the brackets on the side, he suspected that whatever it was, it was folded up. God only knew what it became when she unfolded it.

Once again, he nudged Jezebel, this time increasing her walk to a trot.

Adjusting the glasses so he could watch her as he rode, he saw Sophie slam the rear hatch, open the back door and bend inside.

There was more?

She pulled out a small seat and what looked to be a cooler and Jeb took Jezebel to a full gallop. What the hell was this woman doing? Planning to take over a wing of his house? Sure, she had to live with him, but he remembered telling her that her quarters were a bedroom, sitting room and a bathroom. She didn’t get to spread out all over his home.

He galloped past the outbuildings and barn, slowing Jezebel when they neared the driveway and taking her down to a walk when they reached the pavement.

Obviously hearing the clip-clop of Jez’s approach, Sophie turned around. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked up at him and called, “Hey! Good morning.”

Her bright brown eyes shone with joy, accenting her pert little nose, wide smile and nicely defined chin. He should have kept his eyes on her face, but the blue top clinging to her breasts and the jeans outlining her perfect bottom drew his gaze downward until he’d taken in every feminine inch of her.

Irritated with himself, he nearly cursed. Why had he hired someone so cute?

A glance at her mountain of gear only increased his ire. Obviously she was all wrong for this job. He reined Jez a few feet ahead of the car, and growled, “What are you—”

Too late. Sophie ducked into her back seat again and Jeb stopped talking. Not only was she providing him with a jaw-dropping view of her backside, but also there was little sense talking when his conversation partner couldn’t hear him.

He waited patiently, ready to ask her just how much junk she thought she could get into a small suite of rooms, but when she pulled out of the back seat, baby in her arms, the words he’d intended to say fell out of his head. He was—for the first time ever—speechless.

She smiled at him. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He stared at her. Then the baby. The kid was small, but chubby. Healthy. With pink cheeks and a thatch of thick black hair that poked out in all directions.

The only thing that came out of his mouth was, “What are you doing?”

She frowned. “You said move in. Today. So I can start working tomorrow. Did I misread your instructions?”

“Apparently! Since I don’t remember telling you to bring a baby!”

“Oh!” She laughed. “This is my son. Brady.” She kissed the little boy’s cheek. “Say hello, Brady.”

The baby cooed and gooed and Jeb’s heart stuttered in his chest. Willing back the swell of emotions that threatened to overtake him, he simply said, “You can’t have a baby here.”

Sophie kissed the baby’s cheek again. “Why not? The agency said it wasn’t a problem.”

“The employment agency told you that you could bring him?”

“Yes, when they explained that this job was for a live-in housekeeper, I told them about Brady and they said it was no problem for me to bring him.”

“I gave them the exact opposite instruction! I said, no kids.” Somebody’s head was going to roll.

“What difference does it make?” she asked cheerfully before she ran her fingers through her baby’s unruly dark hair, trying to tame it. “I’m not working 24/7. Only eight or ten hours a day. And not all back-to-back hours. You said that on my interview. Since my work requires feeding you supper…which takes us past a five o’clock quitting time, especially cleaning up the dining room and kitchen after you eat, you said my days are pretty much my own. I can organize them any way I want. And that means I have plenty of time to care for Brady.”

“I can’t have a baby here!”

Her expression hardened. Her shiny brown eyes turned into laser beams of steely determination. The laughter was gone from her voice when she said, “Mr. Worthington, obviously there was a mess-up at the agency, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of it.”

Jezebel danced from foot to foot. A clear sign that Jeb’s agitation was transmitting itself to her. He took a breath and spoke more calmly. “I don’t want to make the best of it. I have clients coming—”

Jezebel danced around some more. Jeb tugged lightly on the reins, knowing he had to get her to the stable before he could finish this conversation. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”

He rode Jezebel into the stable, slid off the saddle and tossed the reins to a hand who was mucking stalls. “Take care of her.”

With the anger in his belly churning into hurricane force, he strode outside again and to the driveway. Sophie Penazzi stood beside her vehicle, her child sitting in the plastic basket thing, her arms crossed on her chest.

“I want a thousand dollars to pay for the cost of this trip.”

He stopped a few feet in front of her. “A thousand dollars?”

“It should be three. I let my apartment go.” Her voice wobbled, but she paused, drew in a breath and very strongly said, “I paid to put my things in storage. I also have the expenses of traveling here. It’s cost me a lot to take this job, and if I’m not staying, then I want to be reimbursed.” She caught his gaze. “Now.”

“We have an employment agreement. You’re staying,” Jeb said, holding his temper in check by only a thin thread. He pointed at the baby in the basket-carrier thing. “He’s not.”

“And where is he supposed to go?”

“That’s not my problem.”

She pulled her employment agreement from her pocket. “It might be the agency’s mistake that they told me it was okay to bring my son, but this is your agreement and I don’t recall anywhere in here that says I can’t bring a child. If you won’t let me keep him, you’re in breach…” She paused, smiled. “All you have to do is give me a check for a thousand dollars and I’m out of here.”

Jeb was just about to remind her that since the agency made the mistake they were responsible to reimburse the money she spent, until she said the magic words…

“And you can find yourself another housekeeper.”

All the wind evaporated from his angry sails. He couldn’t find himself another housekeeper. Thanks to Maria, the women in town wouldn’t work for him and none of the other California candidates he’d interviewed had been suitable. She was the only person he considered qualified. If she left, he started at square one and it would take him months to find someone willing to work for him. He didn’t have months. He had potential clients coming to see the ranch in three weeks.

He took a pace back. “Haul your gear inside. I’ll send Slim out to show you to your quarters.” He turned to leave, but spun to face her again.

“And keep him,” he said, pointing at the happy baby, “out of my sight.”

He pivoted toward the house and strode to his office, all but hyperventilating from fury. He couldn’t live with a baby for the entire year of her employment agreement. And if money could get her to leave, he would happily pay it. Just as soon as his potential clients were gone, he’d give her the damned thousand dollars and she could leave.

But that meant he had only three weeks to find a replacement. He fell into the tall-backed chair, grabbed the phone receiver and punched in the number of the employment agency from memory.

“A baby!” he sputtered. His thoughts were so angry he couldn’t merely think them; he spoke out loud. “What kind of woman brings a baby to a job?”

“The kind forced to live somewhere for a year.”

Seeing Slim standing in the doorway of his office, Jeb slammed the receiver in the phone cradle again. A bear of a man, with shoulders as wide as the doorway, Jim Cavanaugh was one of those people whose childhood nickname no longer fit, but who couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

“Don’t take her side.”

“I’m not taking her side. I’m just stating a fact. The agency told her it was okay for her to bring her child. And since she and the kid are here, what harm can it do to give her a chance?”

What harm? Slim, of all people, should know exactly why he didn’t want a baby around. “I’m hiring somebody else.”

Slim planted his hands on his hips. “Oh, really? Where do you propose to find someone? Are you going to trust the agency that already got your instructions wrong with Sophie? Or are you going to try the girls in town again?”

Jeb scowled.

“Look, Jeb. I’m not the kind to state the obvious, but you have to keep her.”

Jeb picked up a pencil and tapped it on the mouse pad beside his computer keyboard. “Fine. Whatever. She’s got three weeks.”

“Just long enough to get the house clean for your clients? You’re all heart.”

“Don’t push it, Slim.”

Slim left the room, annoyed that the surfer girl wasn’t getting much of a chance to prove herself, but Jeb didn’t care. He picked up the phone again. Too much was at stake for him to deviate from his plan. Having a baby around might seem insignificant, but Jeb had seen many a little thing topple big plans. There was no way he’d risk his future—his home—when it had taken him so long to get one.

He’d spent his childhood hopping from one tropical paradise to another with his wealthy jet-setter parents. His first year at university he thought he should feel “settled”—since he was actually staying in one place for nine consecutive months—but he didn’t. Eventually he realized “home” was more than a house or a place to consistently lay his head. For the next two years he’d longed for the sense of direction, sense of purpose, sense of identity that the other students had.

Then he had gotten an apartment off campus, next door to two very determined brothers. Ranchers. People of substance. People with roots and identity. People whose great-great-grandparents had settled in Montana and who knew that a hundred years from now their property would still be Langford land.

With too much money and very little meaning to his life, Jeb wanted so much to be one of them that he’d married their sister Laine, and bought the ranch he now lived on, prepared to fulfill his adopted destiny of handing his ranch down from one generation of Worthingtons to the next… Until he and Laine divorced.

His dream had died a sudden, brutal death, but after only a few weeks of wallowing in misery, it dawned on him that he didn’t need to have a wife or kids or even a “person” to hand down his land. He could still leave a legacy. It would simply be in the form of a foundation—a trust that would keep this ranch running exactly as it was right now for a hundred years after his death.

Just as he always did, he persevered. But only because he didn’t deviate from the blueprint he created to achieve his goals.

So no. Sophie Penazzi and her baby were not staying. Might as well start the ball rolling now on finding her replacement.

Two seconds after Jeb strode into his house, Sophie had realized her offer to leave if he would pay her for expenses had been a terrible lapse in judgment. Her horror at making such a stupid mistake must have shown on her face because after Slim had taken her to her room, he’d told her to give him a few minutes and he’d straighten out this mess with Jeb.

Standing in the sitting room of the three-room maid’s quarters, admiring the hardwood floors, traditional sofa and chair and big screen TV—quarters much nicer than any apartment she could afford—she took a long breath and said a prayer that Slim would be successful. Not only did this job pay enough to wipe out the debt she owed the hospital for Brady’s birth, but also she had nowhere else to go. The thousand dollars she’d demanded as compensation for driving to the ranch wouldn’t pay the first month’s rent on a new apartment; forget about the additional security deposit required on most places. If she lost this job, she and her baby would be dead broke and homeless.

With her little boy asleep in the bedroom, she cursed Brady’s dad for dumping them the way he had, putting her in the predicament of having no money and a child to raise. But rather than fall victim to self-pity, she reminded herself that Mick wasn’t as much to blame for bailing on them as she was for trusting him. She’d been brought into the world by parents whose careers always came first. She shouldn’t have been surprised that when she got pregnant, Mick no longer saw her as a partner, but a burden, maybe even an obstacle to the life he had planned. He’d never hidden his determination to arrange his world just the way he wanted it. She hadn’t been blind to his self-centeredness. But she had stupidly believed love could cause him to make room for the new addition to their lives.

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 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.

Listening to the messages on his answering machine, he rooted through the stacks of paper looking for a pad to jot down a few numbers, but instead found a note of complaint Maria had left about a leaky faucet. At the time she’d lodged it, she’d been shamelessly coming on to him and he hadn’t been sure if it was a genuine complaint or a way to get him to her bedroom.

He cursed. He’d never checked this out and now that he had someone using the suite again, he couldn’t let it slide. With Sophie upstairs, he knew he could sneak into her rooms and try the faucet without her even knowing there’d been a problem. After the episode at the swimming pool the night before, that was probably for the best. He’d decided he wasn’t even going to be in the same room with her again, if at all possible. So it was good he found the note now when he could check it out.

He left his office and stealthily made his way to her suite. The door opened to a sitting room that smelled soft and feminine. Brady’s baby powders and soaps mixed with more mature scents of something smoky and sexy, undoubtedly belonging to Brady’s mom and a picture of her in her innocent one-piece bathing suite popped into his head. He could almost feel the warmth of the night, hear her soft voice as she told him about the stars, and his groin tightened. He didn’t know what it was about that woman that got to him, but she had something. He thanked his lucky stars she’d be leaving soon.

On his way to the bathroom, his gaze fell on a four-foot-by-four-foot square thing that sat in the corner of the sitting room and he stopped. Covered in net, with a bumper guard decorated with childish characters and images, the thing was obviously a convenient place for the baby to sit and play while his mother worked. But he didn’t know that for sure. He didn’t know anything about babies.

He glanced around. With no one in the room to see him, he could indulge his curiosity. He walked over to it and ran his fingers along the smooth plastic that formed a soft rim, probably to protect the kid in someway. He stooped down, peering inside at the toys Sophie had left behind. A stuffed bear. A doll made of soft-looking fabric with yarn for hair. Brightly colored balls and rattles. They were curious things, foreign, almost exotic to a man who hadn’t spent two minutes with a baby until his housekeeper had brought one to his home.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

At the sound of Sophie’s voice, his heart all but pounded out of his chest. But with the ease that comes with years of practice, he glanced over indolently, as if she were the one in the wrong.

She stood in the doorway, wild-haired baby on her arm. Her eyes shone brightly with fear, and her breath stuttered into her chest. She should have been angry that he was in her quarters without her permission or even her knowledge. Instead she shook with fear over being in his presence—with her baby. The baby who belonged in this room more than he did.

The guilt he’d felt when she made him breakfast reared its ugly head again. He didn’t have a qualm about firing someone for not doing her job; but he wasn’t firing Sophie for not doing her job. He was firing her for having a baby.

The little boy cooed, drawing Jeb’s gaze to the smiling imp and he swallowed. Did a man ever get over a life blow like the one he had received? Would he ever be able to look at a child without feeling the horrible emptiness?

It didn’t matter. His only concern right now was getting himself out of this room before “the fixer” realized something was wrong and asked another one of her damned questions.

He pulled himself up from his crouched position. “My last housekeeper said the bathroom faucet leaks. Does it?”

“I…” She cleared her throat. “I never noticed it leaking.”

He strode to the door. “That’s what I figured.”

He left without another word. Walking down the hall, he tried to focus on being furious with Maria for making his life miserable, but his mind wandered back to soft blankets, sweet smelling toys and blue eyes filled with life and wonder.

He might feel guilty over firing Sophie, but there was no way around it. If the house were clean, he’d give her the three weeks’ pay and bonus today just to save his sanity.

CHAPTER FOUR

RIDING the fence line the next day on Jezebel, with Slim beside him on his black stallion, Thunder, Jeb knew he should be enjoying the easy camaraderie with his foreman. The sun was hot and a breeze shimmied through the wildflowers in the shiny green grass. Typically this was when Jeb’s focus was its sharpest. Instead the easy pace of the ride lulled him, and his mind wandered back to the sweet smells in Sophie’s suite, then to Sophie herself.

She’d been at the ranch three days and every one of those days he’d done something wrong. He knew that the curiosity he felt looking at Brady’s toys was an aberration that would leave as soon as the baby did. He also wasn’t worried about the conclusions Sophie might have drawn seeing him staring at her baby’s things. She’d been so surprised to find him in her suite that he doubted she’d had time to really think about what she’d seen.

But the way his barriers had fallen at the swimming pool couldn’t be dismissed so easily. He was her boss, yet he couldn’t help asking why she didn’t wear a bikini. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her legs. He couldn’t keep his voice level, disciplined, authoritative. So he’d planned to simply avoid her, but that hadn’t worked out, either. After their contact in her suite, he had to admit he was considering working in the barn and even staying out of the kitchen except to get coffee.

He shook his head in disgust. He hated being out of control. Shouldn’t he be able to handle this better?

Of course he should! So what if she was attractive? He was an enormously successful businessman, whose big, bad ranch foremen all but shivered in their boots when they had meetings with him. How could one five-footsix California girl cause him to forget everything he knew about keeping employees in line?

They were almost back at the barn when Jeb came out of his thoughts and asked Slim about the trouble they’d been having with hikers walking the ranch trails.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“I heard everything you said.”

“Then you’d know I already told you I met with the guy who seems to be organizing the hikes and told him it was no problem for him to bring people on the ranch as long as they stayed in the back of the property, away from the cattle and picked up after themselves.”

As Slim said that, Sophie came around the corner of the barn. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Slim called, waving to her. “How’s Brady?”

Jeb glanced over at him. He knew the kid’s name?

“He’s fine. We’re both great.” She turned and displayed a backpack-like baby carrier in which Brady sat, chewing on a thick plastic ring. “We’re going for a walk.”

Slim nodded and smiled and Jeb took advantage of everybody’s preoccupation with chitchat to peek at the length of leg exposed beneath her jean shorts. Today her thick hair was caught up in a bouncy ponytail and she wore a fancy top with seashells or something dangling from the U-shaped neckline, but as always Jeb’s attention was caught by her legs. They were perfect.

“Oh, don’t mind him. I don’t know where the hell his mind’s been all morning.” Slim poked him in the arm. “Are you in there, Jeb?”

Jeb’s heart froze in his chest. He hoped to hell they simply thought he’d been woolgathering and no one had caught him staring at Sophie’s legs, but one look at Slim’s sly expression and he knew his foreman had caught every second of it.

Shading her eyes from the sun with her right hand, Sophie smiled up at him as Jezebel began to do a two-step, once again picking up on his nervousness around his housekeeper and her baby.

“I asked if you minded if Brady and I explore.”

“No. I don’t mind if you take a walk.” He tugged on his horse’s reins, directing Jezebel toward the barn. “But you’re not familiar enough with the ranch to explore. Stay on the dirt roads.”

Sophie nodded and walked off. Jeb watched Slim’s gaze follow her, before he yanked on the stallion’s reins and turned him in the direction to catch up with Jeb. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Probably for the sins you’ve committed,” Jeb agreed.

“You like her.”

Jeb stopped his horse. “No. I just think she’s got great legs.”

“And a pretty face and a sweet personality—”

“And a baby.”

Slim laughed. “You can fool most people with that gruff voice and apparent hatred of kids, but you forget I know things about you that most people don’t know.”

Jeb headed for the barn again. “Whatever.”

Slim laughed again. “Don’t whatever me. Especially when I think it’s a damned good sign that you like this girl.”

“Right. And you think the fact that she has a baby makes her perfect for me.”

Slim grinned. “And from the fact that you brought it up first, I’m guessing you’ve already thought of it, too.”

He hadn’t. Not until that very second. But as Slim pointed out it was a “sign” of sorts that the thought had even popped into his head. But where Slim saw it as a good sign, Jeb only felt stupid. Desperate. He hated both.

He looked Slim in the eye. “I keep you around because you’re good at your job. But even you don’t get to poke into my personal life. Let this alone or Sophie won’t be the only one going in three weeks.”

With the dusting and window washing done and nothing else to do, Sophie cleaned the kitchen after lunch the next day.

“What are we going to do once this kitchen is cleaned, Brady?” she asked the baby who sat in the high chair, chewing a teething ring, watching his mom with his big blue eyes. “The man doesn’t even have furniture in most of the rooms. Once I dusted the woodwork and windowsills and ran a dry mop over the hardwood floors, I was done.

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