Maid in Montana by Susan Meier

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 a