"No, something better." She pulled away from him and took his hands. "I've hired a housekeeper. I don't know how long she'll stay, but-"

"You hired us a housekeeper on the plane from Los Angeles?"

"I met her in LAX. My plane was late, and I'd gotten hungry-"

"There's a surprise- Oof." Cam rubbed his gut, which Nellie had just elbowed. "Go on."

"My arms were full. A million people were pushing and shoving and this woman was the only one who stopped to help me." Her eyes filled with sorrow. "Oh, Cam. You should have seen her, poor thing. She can't be any older than me, and she's so scared. I think she's running from someone, and I-"

"And you just wanted to help."

"Yes."

Cam understood perfectly. He and Nellie shared what the rest of the family called the "bleeding-heart syndrome." Both had a deep, burning desire to right wrongs, fix other people's lives and bring home strays. Cam lifted his head, shifting his gaze over the remaining passengers. He found her immediately. She stood rock still and apart, her shoulders squared, head high. He didn't see anything but her pale, proud, tear-ravaged face. She looked at him-straight at him-and when their eyes met, he felt a jolt.

Her eyes were electric blue. And even from far away, they were the widest, deepest eyes he'd ever seen. For the first time in too long, he felt a stirring of something he couldn't name. He swallowed hard against it.

"She's alone?" he asked in a low voice.

"All alone. And nowhere to go. Her name's Haley and all I know is she flew in from South America, but she's from the States. Somewhere."

As collectors of the needy, he knew neither he nor Nellie could care less if the young woman could cook or clean. All that mattered was that she needed them. But both of them knew from past experience that Zach and Jason weren't easy sells.

"She's wonderful," Nellie said quickly. "We bonded immediately."

Which, given Nellie's current temperament, said a lot. Besides, Cam trusted her instincts implicitly. "All right," he said, his gaze still locked on the woman.

"All right? Oh, Cam, just like that?" Impulsively, Nellie hugged him again, laughing in delight. "Sometimes I think I married the wrong Reeves."

"You know you did." He grinned.

She still held him close, the baby between them like a basketball. She batted her eyelashes at him. "Will you tell Jason about her?"

He laughed and shook her off. "No way."

"Please?"

Still looking at the woman, because strangely enough, he couldn't tear his eyes away, he asked, "You promise not to cook anymore?"

"I promise."

"Deal, then." He couldn't ask for more. "I'll tell Jason."

"And Zach," she clarified.

"Yeah, and Zach. But it's going to cost you." There would be hell to pay for this, he knew. Just last month, when he'd brought home the abused puppy, the one that even Jason couldn't doctor up, they'd spent three hundred dollars on surgery and veterinarian fees. Zach and Jason both had extracted a promise from him not to bring home anything else, but Cam would worry about that later.

With Nellie in tow, he threaded his way through the waning crowd and stopped before the woman.

"Hello." Cam flashed a quick, self-deprecating smile that hopefully signaled he was harmless. A tad too thin, he decided. He usually liked long hair on a woman, but her dark, short cut swung gently to her chin, suiting her narrow features. She had a pale, elegant face that at this moment was staring at him as if he were the one being interviewed. "I hear you'd like a job," he said to her.

She nodded-regally, he thought-giving him a queen-to-peasant look that had his smile spreading. Spunk. He liked that, too.

"You live on a ranch, far from town?" she asked, a flicker of a frown crossing her face.

"Pretty far from Colorado Springs," he admitted, sensing her unease, and again giving her that smile that said he couldn't hurt a fly. "The Circle C is north and slightly east, at the base of the mountains. It's an hour from here."

"Isolated?"

He grinned. "Isolated enough that Nellie has to talk to herself for company."

Nellie rolled her eyes. "There are some small towns out that way," she told Haley. "But nothing close to the size of Colorado Springs."

"Good." She straightened her already impossibly straight shoulders. "Yes, Mr. Reeves, I'd like a job."

He had absolutely no idea what he was going to do with a hoity-toity housekeeper, except enjoy looking at her. "My name's Cameron. Cam, if you'd like. That's what my friends call me."

"Thank you." She nodded, and though she was a good foot shorter than him, she managed to tilt her nose down at him. "Cameron. My name is Haley W-Williams."

God, he loved that voice instantly, all deep and husky as if she'd just woken up. A man could lose himself in a voice like that. But while her vocal cords screamed sex, nothing else about this woman did. Her shadowed eyes barely hid her exhaustion and something else that might have been fear. She hugged her purse close to her, and for the first time, he noticed that she didn't seem to be dressed properly for autumn in the Rockies. Her thin blouse tucked into trim-but-also-thin slacks wouldn't protect her once they went outside the terminal.

And since when did a homeless, down-on-her-luck housekeeper wear clothes that looked like they came from Saks Fifth Avenue?

"Let's go get our luggage," Nellie said.

"I have none," Haley said quietly, though her eyes were anything but calm.

Cam watched a hardness come into that electric-blue gaze. His mild curiosity leaped to avid stage. "Well, then," he said lightly, giving Nellie a look when she opened her mouth to express sympathy he instinctively knew Haley wouldn't appreciate, "we'll just get Nellie's then. Ladies? Shall we go?" He offered them each an arm, amused when Haley refused to take it. When he had Nellie's suitcase, he directed the women toward the exit.

"Wait," she said. "This position… It's for room and board?"

The position offered whatever she needed, but he didn't say that. "Yes."

"I'd have my own room?"

She needed a place to stay, that much was obvious. As well, she'd need some more clothes and personal things. But at the moment, he was more concerned with soothing her obvious mistrust of him, and wariness of any implied "duties," than anything else. "Yes, of course. Our ranch house is large, but we also have a guesthouse. It'll be all yours, if you want it. You'd eat with us since you'll be cooking. And we can come up with an agreeable salary, I'm sure."

She'd gone from fragile and frail to downright beautiful as pride and anger sparked color into her pale cheeks.

"I won't do any… anything except cook and clean." She lifted her chin.

Damn, but her dignity had his blood humming. And her haughty indignation tickled him, though he struggled not to show it. He appreciated the glory of a woman's temper, but didn't like to cause it. No, that was something he steered clear of-except for Nellie because it was so much fun to goad her. And because he didn't have to sleep with her at night; Jason did. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

Haley stared at him, weighing his words for honesty.

Nellie smiled gently at her. "Believe me, Haley, no one will bother you. You'll be safe."

Haley turned away, needing to think for a moment. Running for her life, she realized this job was her only choice. Her credit cards were useless. She could be traced as far as L.A., she knew that. That was why she'd used a cash machine at LAX to withdraw money for the flight with Nellie. From L.A. International she could have gone anywhere, and since she hadn't used her real name when buying her ticket, there would be no way to figure out her location-unless she used her cards or withdrew more cash.

Thank God Nellie had come along when she did. After her brief spell of panic and self-pity on arriving at LAX, Haley had turned her pager on again out of morbid curiosity. She'd immediately gotten another grim message from South America.

"You can run, but you can't hide. I'll find you."

That was when she'd met Nellie. Haley chose to believe it had been fate, for she'd needed to get safely away and think. She could have tried to find her mother. Last she knew, Isabella Whitfield had been in Manhattan, but Haley knew she'd have been far from welcome there. And wouldn't this mess she'd gotten herself into just prove to her mother once and for all what a failure she was?

But to go with this stranger and his wife simply because she'd liked the woman on sight? Because she'd looked into Nellie's eyes and felt a kinship she couldn't explain?

"Haley? You ready?" Nellie asked.

It seemed too easy. Too good to be true. To just disappear for a while in the Colorado Rockies and pretend to be a housekeeper. Suspicion was second nature to her. "That's it? Let's go? Just like that, you're going to take me to your home?"

Cam looked at the kind, warm Nellie, exchanged an indecipherable glance, then turned back to Haley with an easy shrug. "Yep."

The man wasn't harmless, despite his light and easy manner and smooth, charming voice. No man with eyes that full of blatant sexuality could be harmless. And Haley didn't need a seismograph to register that smile as ground-shaking. "Aren't you going to ask me for my references?" she questioned, expecting it all to be a trick, or a trap. "Or if I can even cook for God's sake?"

His smile was slow, wide and devastating. "Darlin', if you don't burn water, you can cook better than Nellie, here. And we'll be mighty grateful for that, believe me." He chuckled when Nellie jammed an elbow into his stomach. He rubbed the spot with his hand.