I’m tired. Hungry. I want to eat and go to bed.”

She drew a breath and fought for calm. She had to be calm. Men didn’t like hysterical women. “You didn’t mention them, Mr. Sheenan.”

The rocking chair tipped back. He looked at her from under very dark lashes, his dark gaze almost black in the shadowy kitchen. “I didn’t know they were coming.”

“But you never mentioned them.”

“So?”

“So? I’d think you’d mention it when applying for a housekeeper. The agency never mentioned kids. You never mentioned kids. But you have kids, two of them, and they’re here for the holidays.”

His brow lowered. “They shouldn’t be here yet.” He paused, thought. “What is the date?”

“December 8th. It’s a Sunday.”

He said nothing.

She swallowed her impatience. “I arrived a week ago today, on the first. I’ve been here a week.”

Frowning, he gazed at the fire. “They weren’t supposed to be here until the nineteenth. That’s when school gets out for the holidays,” he added, half under his breath.

“Does it not... worry... you that they’re here?” she asked. She waited for him to say something. He seemed in no hurry to speak, so she pressed on. “Does it not trouble you that two eleven-year-olds, who go to school in New York, are on your doorstep in Montana at eleven at night?”

“It most definitely concerns me,” he said finally, looking at her. He rubbed a hand slowly across his bristled jaw. “But you said they were asleep. What do you want me do? Go haul them out of bed and interrogate them in the middle of the night?”

Her eyes burned and she looked away, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be part of this. She didn’t want children or Christmas or a pirate for a boss.

“No, of course not,” she said, her voice dropping, deepening. “I just... don’t understand. How you could not know the kids were missing from school. Shouldn’t the school have called you? Shouldn’t you have been on a plane the moment you heard that no one could find your twins?”

He closed his eyes, grimaced. “The school probably did call. I’m sure if I checked my phone there would be messages. But I rarely keep it on me as it doesn’t work in the back country so no, I don’t pay much attention to it.”

Or your kids, she wanted to add.

She didn’t.

Her fingers twisted, tugging on the fuzzy sweater sleeve. “But why would you never mention them to me? Why would you never once mention that those two guest rooms were actually your children’s rooms and you expected your kids home on the nineteenth for their school holiday?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

She bundled her arms across her chest, cold, so cold. “How could they not matter?”

He leaned forward, his dark gaze skewering her. “I did not say they didn’t matter.