Wanted: Fairy Godmother (Romantic comedy)

by Laurie LeClair

  Clearing her throat, she held out her hand. She hated the way it trembled. “I think you’ve been waiting for me.”

  Shock registered in his look. “You’re Callie Andrews?”

  Did he remember me as a seven-year-old little girl in love with him? she wondered, half afraid he did, half afraid he didn’t. Would he turn her away from the job if he did?

  A memory flashed in her mind, bright and sharp. More interested in the events of the rodeo, he’d shunned a lovesick, pesky blonde-haired girl, distancing himself from the annoying admirer.

  Now, she sighed in relief when no hint of recognition formed.

  Standing quickly, his features contorted. Pain clouded his eyes as he tried to focus on her. Callie grabbed his outstretched right hand while his left hand clutched the table, his knuckles turning white. Pin prickles of awareness raced from where his callused flesh touched her palm up her arm.

  “Are you all right?” Her voice broke as his grip tightened unbearably. The pallor beneath his tan turned chalky, frightening her. Absently, she noted his frame. Over six feet, lean, and broad-shouldered, she assessed his dimensions, wondering how she could prop him up if he collapsed.

  He composed himself, obviously battling the wave of pain. “I’m fine,” he choked out. Releasing her, he gestured to the bench seat opposite his. “Please, sit down.”

  His gentlemanly manners surprised, yet pleased, her. She took the offered seat, hoping he’d soon take his. Settling in, she spotted the thin, pink half-moon scar marring his left temple.

  He must have noted her stare; he said, “Bull kicked me.” He shrugged uncomfortably. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he sank down across from her. “Concussion. I still get these damn blinding headaches.”

  Concern rushed through her. “Isn’t there anything—”

  “Time, that’s all.” He cut her off, ending further probing.

  Dragging up years of adapting to a new situation, Callie relied on her humor. “Surely there’s been some kind of mistake here. You can’t be one of the boys in need of help.”

  Amusement transformed his expression. He dug in his shirt pocket, extracting what looked like pictures. Carefully, he spread out three school photographs. “Fairy Godmother, these are your charges.”

  She chuckled, relieved that his sudden attack had passed. Looking closely, Callie gasped. “I’ve seen him before.” She pointed to the first one of a thin-faced boy with a mop of dark, curly hair. Dark rimmed glasses sat awkwardly on his small nose, revealing equally dark eyes.

  “Stan? How?”

  “In some underground computer newspaper my former employer used to get. I remember reading Stan is a genius when it comes to computers.” Awe laced her words.

  A grim smile played on Jake’s face. “Tell me about it. That’s the problem. My cousin lives, breathes, and eats that stuff.”

  “Cousin?” Callie glanced from the photo, and then to Jake. The coloring matched, but little else.

  “I’m adopted.” The two words, clipped and bitter, slammed into her.

  She’d never known that about him. A sense of kinship linked him to Callie, connecting them in ways she found disturbing and exciting. Lost, adrift, and no place that felt like home, she thought. Very few people could relate to that feeling. But Jake did; she read it in his whole demeanor.

  “I grew up in a Navy family, never staying in one place for too long. Then the divorce happened. The shuffling back and forth between the new families was even worse, if you can believe that.”

  For a space of a few seconds, he studied her intently, clearly absorbing her past, weighing the person. The spell broke when he nodded to the other two photos. “Marvin is the redhead with freckles and Lance is a throwback to the hippie days.”

  Callie briefly looked over the other two. Lance with his long, stringy blond hair and tie-dye T-shirt did appear to be in a time warp. Pushing the pictures to Jake, she leaned back in her seat.

  A whirlwind of thoughts shifted and stirred in her head. She’d helped raise her half-brothers and sisters and was nanny to more kids than she dare try to count. But could she make over these guys to suit Jake? Where in the world did she start? And how could she keep Jake from discovering her secret crush on him?

  A crush, she thought, that should have vanished once she saw him again and realized the absurdity of harboring childhood feelings for nearly twenty years. But, to her dismay, her curiosity about him piqued, instead of diminished. She longed to know everything about him, discover the changes time had wrought, uncover the man he’d become.

  Uppermost in her troubled musings lay the fact that time ticked swiftly by. She’d be on the streets in less than a week.

  Leaving her secure nanny position to a family of four in California to follow her heart back to the happiest place she’d ever lived seemed like a wonderful idea at the time.

  Callie wanted to plant some roots, settle down in one place finally. She thought of it as her anchor that kept her solid and steady in one beloved spot.

  Not getting even an inkling of a job for a month never factored into her impulsive decision. A gamble she seemed close to losing.

  She certainly didn’t want to approach her mother or father with her tail between her legs. They, and their respective new families, had adamantly told her she was a first-class fool for chasing a ridiculous idea.

  Whoever said you couldn’t go home again probably spoke the truth, Callie thought wistfully. None of her daydreams of returning to Montana, to where she truly belonged, worked out thus far.

  “Well? Are they hopeless? By the look on your face that’s what it seems. On the phone earlier, you said you could work miracles. In fact, you said you had on several occasions as a nanny. I checked your references. They agreed.” A hint of panic laced his words.

  Callie pinned a smile on her lips. “Nothing is hopeless.” A growl, loud and fierce, grumbled in her stomach. Embarrassment stung her cheeks as she pressed her hand to her middle. “Sorry about that. I skipped breakfast.”

  He chuckled. “I did, too. Why don’t we order something and discuss our business relationship?”

  “Ah…” Callie calculated her meager stash of cash, and then mentally shrugged. If she got the job, she wouldn’t have to worry. If not, she’d spend one less night in a cheap hotel and one more in her Volkswagen bus. The word homeless brought a frosty chill to her core and concern sweeping her heart.

  “It’s on me,” Jake offered when she took too long to answer.

  A swell of relief bubbled in her chest. His Cheshire cat wide grin both thrilled and unsettled her.

  “This is on the up-and-up, isn’t it?” She hesitated to question her unusual good fortune. “I mean, this isn’t a way for you to get women, is it?”

  The moment the words were out she wished she could stuff them back where they came from. Sexy Jake Lassiter wouldn’t need tricks to get a lady. He didn’t at twelve and he certainly didn’t now.

  Surprise washed over his features. He leaned close, dangerously close. A waft of his musky male scent assailed her senses, heightening her awareness of this good-looking, rugged cowboy. “Who do you think I am, anyway?” His low, steady voice betrayed the annoyance flashing in his amber-colored eyes.

  Pride rose to her defense. “You have to admit this is a rather strange situation. When I called this morning, you said almost the same thing. A woman moving in with four men should raise a few suspicions.” Desperation churned inside her. Hope loomed near. But caution won over. “I’ll need a reference from you.”

  Right now Jake’s job offer seemed like the best avenue to achieve all her dreams, to fill the emptiness. She crossed her fingers under the table, hoping that he came up to snuff.

  After all, eighteen years would change a man and daydreams tended to exaggerate a person, she figured, noting she barely knew Jake back then when she spent her first two years and several long, glorious summers on her grandfather’s ranch.

  A ranch that sat adjacent to the Lassiters’.<
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  A ranch that her mother sold the moment Gramps died the year Callie turned seven, uprooting Callie and shattering her happy, carefree existence for the first of many times.

  A ranch that Callie longed to eventually purchase and make her home once again. The only real home I’ve ever known, she thought, her soul aching.

  “Ah hell!” The short puff of hot air fanned her face. “Flossie, you got a minute?” Jake called to the hovering waitress as he sat back.

  “For you? Anything, Jake.” The cheery lady sidled up to the table, looking curiously from one to the other. “Ready to order?”

  “First, Miss Andrews here needs me to present her with a character reference.” A hardness edged his tone, telling Callie far more than actions did. Her mistrust irritated him.

  Flossie let out a cackle that grated along Callie’s nerves. She winced and it brought a tight smile to Jake’s mouth.

  “Well, sugar, I guess I can verify Jake is pretty harmless. At least he was when I used to babysit for him and all the rug rats around here years ago.” The way she smiled poked holes through her flippant nickname. The ol’ gal loved those kids. Callie wondered if the lady had ever babysat her.

  “So, you know his family then.” Intrigued, Callie probed deeper. She vaguely recalled Jake’s father. Tall, barrel-chested and gruff, she pulled the memory to the forefront of her mind. No motherly figure emerged.

  “Oh sure, his daddy was a doll, an absolute doll. He knew the importance of confiding in a friend.”

  Callie caught the wink Flossie sent Jake and his momentary scowl. The interplay held hints of a strong, lasting friendship. Callie looked on with envy; she’d never stayed in one place long enough to make friends. A pang of loneliness struck a chord. Always on the outside looking in.

  “Is that adequate for you?” Jake folded his arms across his chest with one eyebrow arched.

  “Well, I do have a few questions. Wages—”

  He held up a hand. “Stop!” A smile of admiration flickered. “First, we’ll order, then we’ll discuss it in more detail, Fairy Godmother.”

  Flossie chuckled. “So you finally found somebody, Jake.” Turning fully to Callie, the waitress narrowed her gaze. Keen interest shone brightly. “You know, honey, you sure do look familiar to me. I’m terrible when it comes to names, though. We ever meet before?”

  Callie swallowed hard, trying to stop the panic from showing. Two pairs of very intent, very curious eyes pinned her. How in the world could she keep her identity a secret in order to save her new job?

  Chapter 3

  Well-fed and content, Callie followed Jake to his house nearly an hour later. Her powder blue Volkswagen bus barely kept up with his black, beat-up truck as she tracked the trail of dust on the old country road. The long stretch of fields, snowcapped mountains peeking through billowy clouds, and cattle grazing in the distance caused a sweet ache to shaft through her.

  “Jake Lassiter,” she whispered his name as she pulled into the long dirt driveway right behind him, driving under the impressive wooden archway announcing the family ranch.

  Thoughts of living with Jake, being in close contact, stirred up old yearnings better left buried. Fear of losing her only job prospect in a month sealed her mouth, but, unfortunately for Callie, she failed to stem her wild imagination concerning the sexy cowboy.

  Her heart had finally returned to its normal resting place once she’d brushed off Flossie’s question. Callie had joked that everyone had a twin somewhere in the world. Apparently, it had satisfied the waitress and Jake.

  The best thing for her, she realized now, was to act natural around him. If he ever got a clue of her attraction to him in the past, her intuition suspected he’d kick her out. And right now she couldn’t afford to spur the bronc. The lifelong dream of owning Gramps’ ranch seemed closer than ever now with just a few short miles of roadway separating her from the old homestead.

  “Home,” she said under her breath, excitement and anxiety warring within her middle. “I can’t let this chance slip away. I just can’t!”

  Desperation fueled and cemented her decision. She’d settle her housing and work problems, become friends with Jake, get to know him better, and then she’d tell him the truth. Until then, she’d walk a very fine line indeed.

  And maybe this strange tug in her center would ease. Or, after living in such close proximity to each other, Jake might start to see her as more than just a fairy godmother. “One can only hope,” she murmured, wishing for a family as well as a home. A sharp ache pierced her chest; she longed to be needed and loved.

  Getting out of her van, she stared in awe at the large, sprawling three-story ranch house with the long front porch she vaguely remembered. The harsh afternoon sun revealed peeling white paint. The once black shutters and trim had turned a dull, dark gray. The dense, overgrown shrubbery and the crowded flowerbeds needed tending. For all its disarray, it held a certain indefinable charm.

  She scanned her surroundings, taking in the gently rolling plains, softly mooing cows, the heavy, expectant scent of the coming of spring, the big old weathered barn, the many outbuildings sprinkled nearby, and the horseback riders dotting the range.

  Joy surged through her veins as sweet, lingering glimpses of the past connected with the present.

  Callie fell in love with the ranch immediately. A sense of well-being, peace, and belonging surged in her heart.

  Jake moved to her side, shoving his sand-colored Stetson to the back of his head. “Welcome to the Lazy L. It’s a little big and needs some work.” He shrugged uncomfortably.

  He’d actually thought she’d take one look and hightail it out of there; she read it in his behavior. His vulnerability touched a deep, tender spot inside her. After meeting far too many jaded men connected with her well-to-do employers, this was a pleasant surprise, a novelty. “It’s great. I love it!” She spoke the truth.

  He visibly relaxed at her enthusiasm. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Really? I guess I thought it would be a little off-putting to most people.”

  “Not at all.” Exhilaration danced along her nerve endings. Her luck had changed for the better, starting with this cowboy at her side. Callie looped her arm through his. Warmth seeped into her, spreading its comfort, filling the emptiness. Tilting her head back to look at him, she stilled. Her heart skipped a beat as the sun highlighted the golden flecks in his amber eyes. In a breathy voice she didn’t even recognize as her own, she said, “Come on, I can’t wait to meet the guys.”

  ***

  “There’s something you should know before you meet my cousins,” Jake said, dropping her battered black suitcase on the cornflower-blue carpeted floor in what would now be Callie’s room. In the past, when his father was alive, Flossie stayed in here. The decor reflected her hidden side, tasteful and traditional. Colorful quilts and craft projects decorated the walls, making it the most feminine room in the all-male household.

  Callie emerged from the compact bathroom just as Jake removed his hat. He placed it gingerly on the polished bare bureau top at his side.

  “This is wonderful.” Her childlike glee warmed his heart, easing his anxiety. Her impish grin and twinkling green eyes sent sparks of delight coursing along his veins.

  “I’m glad you like it. If there’s anything you need, I’ll be happy to supply it for you.” Somehow he felt a pressing need to please her. He tossed it aside, figuring it had to do with the tenuous business deal; he needed her to work her magic on his cousins.

  What a surprise she’d been. Young, witty, and with a streak of determination a mile long, he mused. He’d been alert to everything about her, every move she made. He could study her all day and still be interested in knowing more, seeing more, and never tire of her. Alarmed at this unfamiliar, unsettling aspect to meeting a woman, Jake stomped down on his keen awareness of Callie.

  “I’ve got everything I need. Thanks.”

  He watched her take in the blue and white bedroom. The white bed
spread, dotted with sprigs of blue and purple flowers, matched the drapes perfectly. Flossie’s handiwork once again.

  The gleaming walnut furnishings lent even more charm to the small, but functional, area. Suddenly, Jake realized how cold and stark the other rooms felt compared to this one. Why hadn’t he noticed how bleak his life, his home had become since losing Duke? And why had it taken meeting Callie Andrews to figure that out?

  Dragging her attention back to him, Callie asked, “Did you say there was something else?”

  Stuffing his hands in his back pockets, he shifted nervously. How could he sugarcoat this when he went to tell her? “Well…the guys don’t really know about you…yet.”

  A deep frown knotted her brow. He longed to smooth her troubled expression away. But the urgent need for her services kept him rooted to the spot, rooted to his goal.

  “Are you implying me, in specific, or the fairy godmother part, in general?”

  He kicked himself mentally as new suspicions chased across her delicate features. “The whole thing.” He sighed heavily, waiting for her reaction.

  “What?! I thought you asked them. I thought they agreed.” Outrage blasted him, pelting him as if she’d fired off a round of buckshot. She rested her fists on her hips and glared up at him.

  His heart lurched, plunged to his knees, and then shot up to his throat. He might have jeopardized the whole deal, costing himself his freedom, denying his cousins a happy, well-adjusted life.

  “Just how in the world did you think you could get away with this? What if they don’t want to change? Have you ever thought of that?”

  Her rapid-fire questions made him shrink inwardly. Shame burned twin spots into his cheeks. Hell, he hadn’t thought of anyone but himself.

  Remorse bathed him; he’d never even considered the guys’ feelings in all this. They deserved better than that, better than he could ever give them. Hadn’t he just proved that? He grimaced, holding up his hands to ward off any more grilling. “I’ll work on it.” Doubt and mistrust clouded her features. “I promise.”