Loving Lydia (Atlantic Divide) (3 page)

She’d opened one suitcase the night before to get her pajamas out, but that was as far as she got. The children’s suitcases needed to be unpacked, and as she opened them, the children bounded all around the room. In her own house, she would have walked downstairs in her pajamas, hair a mess and face unwashed, but this wasn’t her house, so she felt obliged at least to dress herself.

She pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a pale pink T-shirt, washed her face, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She then took her bouncing children downstairs, through the quiet house, and into the vast kitchen.

Despite going into labor, her sister had been surprisingly efficient and had all sorts of cereals ready for the arrival of her niece and nephew. Some of them, though, could rot their teeth at twenty paces and others had enough sugar content to send a diabetic into a coma with one spoonful. Surely any child that ate the stuff would spin into a hyperactive frenzy.

She put four slices of whole grain bread in the toaster, retrieved the butter from the fridge, and persuaded her children to sit at the table and eat.

Lydia had no idea how to work the huge, brushed steel coffee machine that sat on the counter, so she chewed on a piece of toast while she eyed the offending item. She wished she didn’t have such a coffee addiction, but now was not the time to punish herself with deprivation. She huffed out a sigh, stepped forward, and lifted one of the flaps on the machine to peer inside.

“Your sister had that installed. She said Jack couldn’t make coffee worth a damn, and she didn’t see why she should always have to make it.” Lydia watched the bear of a man walk across the kitchen toward her and realized she didn’t have much of an instinct to run.

Sam diverted over to the large oak table and ruffled Aaron’s hair as he leaned over and swiped a piece of toast off the child’s plate. She rolled her eyes as she realized that both her children were poking around with great lack of interest in what she’d put in front of them.

“Hey, sugar, we never met last night. You were fast asleep.” His voice was a gentle seduction, and as Rosie peeped up at him, he gave a crooked smile that made his dimple appear. “Why, you look just like your Aunt Katie, sugar. Well aren’t you the lucky thing.”

“Mummy says I have Aunty Katie’s eyes.” Rosie fluttered her eyelashes, and Sam’s smile spread wide across his face.

“You sure do, sugar.”

“My name is Rosie, not Sugar,” she corrected.

“Well, Rosie, I’m Sam.” He held out his hand and engulfed her tiny one in his. “It sure is a pleasure to meet you.” Lydia studied him intently. His hair was an unruly lush dark brown with hints of red. His eyes were a rich toffee color that crinkled at the edges and reflected the smile on his face. She softened as her thoughts strayed and she found herself thinking what a handsome man, and then almost jumped out of her skin when he turned and caught her staring.

“Something wrong?” He bit into the toast, which she thought must be cold and stiff as cardboard now.

“I would have said Rosie is shy, but it seems she’s got over that.” She bit her bottom lip and turned back to the coffee maker.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

She froze as she realized he’d moved up close behind her.

“What’s that?” Her voice was sharp, her back stiff. He stepped gently away.

“I’ll make the coffee…” He opened a cupboard and took out a foil bag of coffee beans. “…if you make a decent breakfast. Scrambled eggs and ham or something. Everything you need is in the refrigerator. Here are the pans.” He opened another cupboard door, winked at her, and smiled.

“Deal,” she replied reluctantly, and moved over to open the fridge door, casting a glance over at him as she went.

He was dressed in the same clothes he’d worn the day before, his five o’clock shadow was now almost a beard, his feet were bare, and his eyes heavy. His voice had a rusty tone. She’d never seen a man so sexy and rumpled, and she never thought bare feet could be so appealing. He appeared like he’d just tumbled out of bed. In fact, he probably had.

“I’m so sorry.” She turned and placed the ingredients she’d found on the counter in front of her, and glanced up to catch an irritated frown cross his brow. Her pulse thudded in the face of his annoyance, but she rushed on regardless. “We must have woken you up. I didn’t know which bedroom you were in. I’m sorry—I should have got the children to be quieter.”

He pressed a button on the machine and a terrible grinding noise started for a few seconds, and then hot, black coffee started to drip into the mug he placed under a spout. He turned and leaned against the bench. She fidgeted as he took a good, long look at her.

“You know, that could be an irritating habit you’re starting to develop there, when you apologize for no reason. You should take a look at that. You don’t need to apologize to me unless you have a decent reason.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and she felt him watch for her reaction.

She almost panted with fear. She wasn’t used to confrontation, and here this big cowboy stood with his fathomless, shrewd eyes, telling her that she shouldn’t apologize. He mystified her. She had no idea what he expected of her, and his quiet manner contrasted with his straight talk and threw her into confusion.

“Oh…” Her hands shook, and she fumbled one of the eggs. It hit the floor with a wet splat, and Aaron hooted with laughter, getting down off his chair to come and dance around her. She pushed her hair back behind her ear and glanced frantically around the pristine counters for a cloth to wipe up the mess before her son leaped into it.

“Aaron, go and sit down, son, and I’ll see about getting you some breakfast.” Sam knelt down, wiped up the mess with a dishcloth, dumped the contents into a trash bin, and then returned to the sink to wash out the cloth. Aaron had sat straight back down and was waiting with his hands on the table to see what Sam was going to give him.

“I’m sorry…” She gulped as he simply lifted an eyebrow and then turned his back and gathered bowls, spoons, and sugar-laden cereals. He let the twins pour their own cereals and milk as he stood behind them and used a guiding hand. He merely wiped away any spillages without complaint.

She turned to the bench and got on with beating, chopping, and frying. He’d placed a black coffee by her elbow, which she assumed was for her. She dumped a load of milk in it and stood to look out the window while the food cooked itself, taking a moment to slow her pulse.

She could hear her children’s excited chatter and Sam’s low murmurs, but it wasn’t until she put the plate in front of him filled with eggs, ham, mushrooms, and grilled tomatoes that she had composed herself enough to ask what was on her mind.

“Have you heard from Jack and Kate?” She placed boiled eggs and thin soldiers, strips of bread to dip in the yolk, in front of the children and took away their empty cereal bowls, stacking them near the sink.

“Sure, they’re both upstairs in bed.” At her sharp look, he just gave her a lazy smile. “They arrived home at four thirty. Kate was in a hell of a mood. Says they sent her home, told her it was a false alarm … something about some kind of hiccups?”

“Braxton Hicks?”

“Yeah, that’d be the ones. She said she was a doctor, and dammit she should be able to tell if it was the real thing or not.” He scooped up a fork full of eggs and started to eat, and then pointed at her with his fork. “What are you going to eat?” She hadn’t moved from his side.

“Oh… I…” She scuttled back to the stove, grabbed another plate, turned out the remainder of the eggs, and added a few mushrooms. She sat at the table and noticed his long look at her small portion of food, while he continued to shovel his own into his mouth. He was silent for a while, and then his eyes met hers.

“I would imagine Katie is going to be really tired today and a little out of sorts. Perhaps when you and the kids are ready, I can take you down to the stables and show you around.”

“Oh, well that’s really kind, but don’t you have things you need to do?”

“Sure.” He smiled at Aaron’s hopeful little face and stroked a hand down Rosie’s hair. “But they can wait. I think maybe these two would like to see my horses.”

“Yay!” They both shouted and bounced on their seats.

“Run on and get changed now. I’ll clear the kitchen.” He smiled at them as they shot out of the room. Their excited voices piped loud and shrill through the house as their mother followed close behind in an attempt to keep them quiet.

By the time the three of them came back downstairs, Sam had cleared the kitchen, and he had another mug of coffee ready to press into Lydia’s hand.

“Bring it with you, we may be a while.”

She noticed it was milky, just the way she liked it. Did nothing escape his notice?

Aaron raced toward the stable at break-neck speed, while Rosie walked along, holding onto Sam’s hand, the thumb of her other hand stuck firmly in her mouth.

Lydia had dressed Aaron in jeans and shirt, but Rosie had insisted on wearing a pretty yellow dress with white broderie anglais trim. She looked so sweet and feminine, but Lydia wondered how long it would take before Rosie was rolling in the dust of the stable yard, her cute little black patent leather shoes scuffed and ruined.

It seemed Sam was content to stroll along and let Rosie swing his arm back and forward as she skipped beside him. He kept his pace slow and his voice soothing and calm as he described various points of interest across the vastness of the ranch.

By the time they walked into the dim coolness of the stables, Aaron had pulled back to look at the enormous horses with eyes wide and frightened. His hand sought out his mother’s as she walked up behind him.

Lydia placed her empty mug on a ledge to free up both hands. Rosie lifted her arms and without asking, was lifted easily into Sam’s arms. His ease with the children was as natural as though he’d been doing it for years.

Lydia pulled Rosie’s rucked up little dress down gently and found herself smoothing it over Sam’s muscular forearm, which she stroked through the thin material twice before she realized what she was doing. Her eyes flew up to meet his to see if he had noticed as her hand moved to rest on her daughter’s leg instead. His eyes were calm and his mouth unsmiling, but the dimple in his cheek winked in and out as his jaw flexed. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.

“If you’re going to apologize to me, think again. You were just being instinctive. Any time you want to feel my muscles, you just go ahead, there’s no one stopping you.” Then he gave her a wicked smile that made her heart lurch and turned away from her to show Rosie the nearest stall with an enormous bay mare.

Lydia cleared her throat and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Sam murmured quietly to her daughter to encourage her to touch the horse.

“I was thinking how good you are with children.” She stepped forward, bravely touched the horse’s silken nose with her free hand, and felt the heat of its breath as it softly blew out.

“How many do you have?”

She ran her hand from the center of the white star of the animal’s forehead down its nose and underneath its mouth where the skin was soft and interspersed with short, hard stubble. Lydia smiled as the horse nudged at her, and then she glanced in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t have any of my own, to my knowledge, but we have a big family, and there are lots of kids running around at varying ages. With a place like this, you have to learn to pick them up and put them where you want them, otherwise one of the horses is going to stand on them.” A little jitter ran through her stomach as his intense eyes held hers. “Just for the record, I don’t have a wife or girlfriend either.”

He reached over and took Lydia’s hesitant hand, guided it to stroke the horse’s cheek, and then further down the neck, forcing Lydia to step forward.

“She’s a gentle old girl, this one, she won’t harm you.”

“She’s absolutely beautiful.” She knew her voice was filled with awe, but she saw no reason to disguise how she felt. She would have loved to have put her head against the horse’s neck and feel the silkiness of its coat against her face. She gazed into the mare’s huge, liquid brown eyes and felt a world of understanding there.

Aaron reached up as the mare lowered her head toward him. He stuck his small fingers inside the mare’s nostrils, and she snorted out a loud crackling breath that had him letting go of Lydia’s hand and stepping backward. The horse threw its head up and down and nudged Lydia firmly into Sam.

“It’s okay,” he soothed from behind her. “Aaron, you just made my horse sneeze, that’s all. Come on over here and I’ll show you how to touch her so you don’t spook her.” He reached down and hauled Aaron up into his arms. Aaron’s eyes were huge as he stared at Sam.

“You’re strong,” he said. “Mummy can’t pick us both up together.” Rosie sucked her thumb and curled the fingers of her other hand in Sam’s thick russet hair, while Lydia’s heart stuck in throat.

“Well your mama’s just a little thing—she hasn’t got very big muscles.” He smiled at them both, and Rosie took her thumb out of her mouth to smile back at him.

“Grandpa can’t pick us up together either, and he’s strong. Not as strong as you. You’re stronger than fiderman.”

Sam’s deep, mellow laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Well, honey, Spiderman and me, we eat a good breakfast in the morning. That’s how we came to get big and strong.”

Rosie studied Sam’s dimple intently, and then pushed her wet thumb deep into the crevice. Sam’s smile simply spread further as he turned his head and kissed the little girl’s thumb, but it faded when he glanced back at Lydia, who stepped back and wiped her hands against her jeans. Trying not to meet his eyes, she stared at the concrete floor of the stables. She blinked rapidly to clear the sheen of tears she knew he must have seen. She turned away before he could make a comment. There was something about this man’s interaction with her children that brought a lump to her throat. She couldn’t believe how emotional she felt, but consoled herself that it must be the long journey still taking its toll.

“I think Aunt Kate may be awake now. Shall we go and see?” She could hear her own voice a little thicker than normal, but it could have been the dust from the horses and hay in the air.