by Liz Isaacson
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll meet my mother in a few hours and you’ll know everything about my childhood.” If only the thought didn’t strike so much fear in her bloodstream.
“All right then. There was this one time Graham dared me and Andrew to jump our family van over the canal….”
Chapter Five
Eli stopped talking the moment Meg’s breathing evened. She slept against his side, her head nestled into his bicep, and it felt so good. So, so good. He couldn’t even describe the feelings flowing through him, only that he really enjoyed whatever they were.
“Thank you, Lord.” He felt…content, maybe for the first time since Caroline had died. The miles rolled by with Meg slumbering and Eli making mental lists about why he could or couldn’t have a relationship with his nanny.
An hour passed before his phone rang, which caused Meg to groan as it interrupted her sleep. The truck’s electronic voice cut into the low music with, “Call from Stockton.”
“Hey, sorry,” Eli said, moving his arm so he could connect the call through the truck’s Bluetooth technology.
“Hey, bud,” he answered. “Are you helping Celia with breakfast?”
“Daddy, it’s almost lunch time.”
Eli checked the clock and found it barely past ten, so that wasn’t true. He didn’t argue the point though, just laughed and said, “So you must’ve gotten up early.”
“Celia said I can have a second breakfast, so she’s making cinnamon toast right now.”
Second breakfast. Eli had noticed his son growing out of his clothes too, so the boy must be having a major growth spurt. “That’s great, Stock. One of your favorites.”
“Where are you guys?”
“Somewhere in Wyoming,” Eli said as Meg glanced around. But the landscape in southern Wymoing was all the same. Flat road stretching forever, with snow piled on both sides. Eventually, Cheyenne would appear, and Eli thought they’d stop there for lunch.
“Graham said he’s going to take me to town today to see Grandma.”
“That’s awesome.” Eli had specifically asked his brother to take Stockton to see their mom, who wanted to take her grandson shopping for Christmas to get gifts for the family. Eli had said she didn’t need to do that, that he could take his own kid to the dollar store to pick out something for his uncles and everyone else he wanted to.
But he hadn’t had time. Or had he and he simply hadn’t done it? The past month felt like it had been wiped out of his memory completely. Like he’d been in a trance and was just now coming out of it.
“And then Annie said I can help her make sure all the beds are ready for Christmas Eve.”
“Also great,” Eli said. Graham took care of the family celebrations, even though he didn’t live at the lodge anymore. So Eli wasn’t exactly sure why they needed beds to be ready. Perhaps everyone was planning to come sleep over on Christmas Eve. He knew his mom and Beau would for sure.
“So after you do those things, you’ll remember what I asked you to do, right?” Eli could practically hear his son’s mind churning as he tried to remember what he was supposed to do.
“Oh! With the horse.”
“That’s right. With the horse.” Eli had asked Stockton to draw a card for Laney and Graham, because Eli had bought a new horse for their ranch as a Christmas gift. “And what did you decide to name her? That should be on the card too.”
“I was thinking of making a box,” Stockton said. “My art teacher showed us how to fold these papers and stuff.”
“Sure. Whatever. We just want to have something to give them.” The horse wouldn’t be delivered until February, but Eli had already chosen it and paid for it. “Are you going to surprise me with the name?”
Meg caught his eye, and Eli waved to indicate he’d tell her about it in a minute. She combed her fingers through her hair, and Eli wished she’d kept it in the stylish A-line she’d had since the day he’d met her. This long look just didn’t suit her, in his opinion. But he knew enough not to express such an opinion to a woman.
“I’m still deciding,” Stockton said, the last word getting all twisted on his tongue.
Eli laughed. “All right. Well, call me when you decide.”
“Meggy’s not here to help me, so I don’t know.”
Eli met Meg’s eye again, but she looked away quickly. He wanted to tell her she simply couldn’t quit, that Stockton would fall apart without her. He swallowed, unsure if he should use his son to get what he wanted—to keep Meg in both of their lives.
“The toast is ready.” Which was six-year-old code for good-bye. Eli said he’d talk to Stockton later, and they hung up. He exhaled, glad he had friends and family that were so willing to take his son when Eli couldn’t be there.
He glanced at Meg again, and she’d folded her arms and gone back to staring out her window. “How close are we to Cheyenne?” she asked, somehow sensing his gaze on her though she didn’t turn toward him.
“About forty-five minutes.”
“Do you want to stop for lunch?”
“I sure do.” He wished she’d slide back across the seat and hold his hand as possessively as she had earlier. It felt nice to be wanted again, to feel like he meant something to someone besides a little boy who’d already lost so much.
“I bought Graham and Laney a new horse for their ranch,” he said instead of asking her to return to his side. “Stockton’s gonna name it and make them a card.”
“Or a box.”
“Right. Or a box.”
Silence fell between them again, and Eli couldn’t stand it. “He’ll be heart-broken when you leave.”
That got her to face him, her expression a perfect storm of emotions he couldn’t sort through fast enough. “He’s resilient.”
“That’s your answer?”
Meg shrugged. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Slide back over here and hold my hand. I liked that.” Eli kept his eyes on her longer than normal, but the traffic on this lonely stretch of highway was non-existent.
She pressed her lips together, and said, “I’d like to get my hair cut in Cheyenne. We’ll have time, don’t you think?”
Surprise cut through what else he’d been planning to say. “You want to get a haircut?”
“My mom won’t like this one. It’ll be one less thing she can nag me about.”
Eli let a few seconds go by while he thought about what she’d said. “Your mom nags you about a lot of things?”
“Everything,” Meg said. “It’s no wonder my dad left when he did.”
“How old were you?”
“Four.”
“And you have two older sisters, right?”
“Twins, yes. They’re a decade older than me.” She turned back to the window, her voice falling in pitch and volume as she said, “I’ve never fit in my family, not even for a single day.”
Eli’s whole chest wailed, his heart beating furiously fast at the agony in her tone. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, it’s true.”
He really wanted her beside him now, so he could whisper comforting things to her and assure her that he wanted her, that she fit with him.
Before he could organize his words so they didn’t sound blunt or creepy, she said, “I fit with kids. They’ve always liked me, and I’ve always liked them.”
“You’re a great nanny.” He liked this conversation. Sure, he knew things about Meg, like how she took her coffee, and what kind of eggs she liked. He could pick from any menu what she’d order and be right nine times out of ten.
The sort of things he knew about her came from their casual acquaintance and the sheer amount of time they’d spent together over the past four years. But he didn’t know much about her family, and she’d never told him such emotional things before.
She sniffed, and Eli found her wiping her eyes when he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
But it was obviously something. He had no
idea what to do. Caroline had cried several times over the course of their four-year marriage, but Eli had been able to take her into his arms, tell her all the reassurances in the world, and kiss everything better.
But he couldn’t do any of that with Meg. In fact, if he did, he felt sure he’d only make things worse.
“What do you want for lunch?” he asked, hoping to get her talking about something lighter, something less important.
“There’s a great Mexican place in Cheyenne,” she said. “Laney said she’d text me the name of it.” She pulled out her phone and started tapping. “She went to college in Cheyenne.”
“Right.” Eli didn’t keep track of details like that, but Meg did. Meg excelled at details, and when she finished texting, he said, “You sure you don’t want to come hold my hand again?”
She turned toward him fully, actually adjusting in her seat to do so. “I need to know what your intentions are first.”
“My intentions?” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“Like, are you just doing this because you don’t want me to quit?”
Horror shot through Eli, making his blood feel like ice in his veins. “No,” he said with as much force as possible. “Of course not.” She’d said she could tell he liked her. And now she didn’t believe him?
He’d messed up so badly with her, and a dose of helplessness dove through him. “It’s like you said. It’s obvious I like you.” Even Graham had asked him about it. Laney too.
She slid toward him, but before she touched him, she said, “My two weeks notice still stands.”
Eli tucked her hand inside his and lifted it to his lips. After a quick kiss on the back of her hand, he said, “Well, I’ll have to do my best to talk you out of that over the next fourteen days.”
She simply cocked one eyebrow and settled their hands on her knee. “You can try.”
Oh, he’d try. And while Eli had experienced some failures in his life, he felt certain this wasn’t going to be one of them.
Three hours later, they’d arrived in Cheyene, eaten at Taco Jose’s, and Meg had just texted to say she’d be done with her hair in five minutes. Eli had opted to stay in the truck while she went into the salon, and he’d taken an hour-long nap since he’d risen at five o’clock that morning. He rarely got up before eight AM, so the loss of three hours of sleep was significant.
Sure enough, only five minutes passed before Meg pushed out of the salon, her A-line crisp and clean and so, so cute.
He got out of the truck, the smile on his face almost ridiculous. “Hey there, pretty lady.” It felt almost natural to talk to her in such a flirty tone, to sweep his arm around her waist and pull her close.
She didn’t protest when he did that, but then time stalled as she looked up at him and he gazed down at her. It felt like a moment where a boyfriend would kiss his girlfriend, tell her how amazing her hair looked, and ask her if she was ready to hit the road again.
His eyes drifted to her mouth, wondering—not for the first time—what she’d taste like. His pulse went nuts, and his mind blanked.
After a breath or two, she pushed against his chest and said, “We better get going. We’re still a few hours away.”
He fell back several steps, the loss of her body next to his tearing through him. It had been too long since he’d dated, because he’d never frozen like that before. Eli had always known what he wanted—and how to get it. He’d met Caroline while he’d worked at a resort in California. She was the concierge and he was the events manager, and they’d had to participate in a lot of meetings and joint ventures.
Their spark had been instant and hot, and she’d actually asked him to dinner before the room had cleared. They’d dated for a year and gotten married on the beach where they both worked. Things had seemed so perfect—until the accident that took her life. Eli hadn’t returned to California since.
“Are you coming?”
He turned to find Meg standing at the passenger door. He practically tripped over his own feet to join her. “Your hair looks awesome,” he said. “I like this cut on you.”
She grinned at him as he opened the door for her. “Thank you.”
He went around the front of the truck, careful to avoid the icy patch on the sidewalk, and got behind the wheel. “Anything we need before we get going again?”
“I don’t think so. Did you want me to drive?”
“I’m good. I slept for most of the time you were in the salon.”
Meg set her jaw and said, “Let’s do this then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back to Coral Canyon.”
Chapter Six
Meg felt five second away from crying and they were still on the outskirts of Boulder. She’d felt like this for the past half an hour, and they still had twenty minutes of winding through the city until they pulled up to her mother’s house.
That time seemed to pass in a single breath, because before she knew it, Eli put the turck in park and said, “You ready?”
Meg shook her head, taking in the snow-covered walkways, the way the rain gutters dipped, and how dingy the windows looked.
The curtains fluttered, and Meg knew her time was short. Please help me endure this holiday, she prayed before turning to Eli. “I guess we better go in before she comes out.”
Eli kept his eyes on the house too. “She doesn’t get out much, does she?”
“No.” Meg thought that was one reason her mom was so mean. She’d simply forgotten how to interact with other people, though a small voice whispered in the back of Meg’s mind that her mom had always been surly, even before she retired.
“All right then, let’s—”
“Eli, she’s really mean.”
He finally turned his attention to her, and Meg’s anxieties spilled out of the box she’d been carefully keeping them in.
“I’ve worked with plenty of mean people.”
Meg shook her head again. “No, Eli. You’ve dealt with people in a bad mood. Someone who wanted a refund or thought your event was poorly planned. This is way beyond that.” The opening of the front door caught her attention and drew it away from Eli. “She is like nothing you’ve ever encountered.”
He didn’t argue with her or try to say she was exaggerating, which Meg really appreciated. “All right. Do we need a code word?” They often worked out code words when going into stressful situations, usually with Stockton. That way, she could say, “I really don’t like artichokes,” and he would know she wanted to leave whatever party they’d gone to.
“We’re taking her back to the lodge with us,” she said. “There’s no getting away from her.”
Eli wore a pained expression, almost like he was trying to make a difficult decision and couldn’t. “We can do this,” he finally said. “You can do this.”
“She’s waiting.” She nodded toward the front door, her heart sinking all the way to the soles of her feet. “Might as well get this over with.” Meg exhaled and opened her door. Eli met her at the front of the truck and took her hand before she could warn him not to touch her. After all, her mother was very traditional and she wouldn’t like—a
“Meg,” her mom called. “Who did you bring with you?”
Meg almost shoved Eli away from her. “This is my boss, Eli Whittaker,” she said as she tromped through the snow that went halfway up her calf. “You look great, Mom.”
Her mom’s hair had once been dark like Meg’s, but it now hung in white strings around her face. She usually had it pulled back into a severe bun, but it didn’t look like she’d even gotten around to showering yet today.
She still wore her house robe and the rattiest pair of slippers Meg had ever set eyes on. At least she knew what to get her mother for Christmas now.
“You hold hands with your boss?” Her mom’s dark eyes cut right into Meg and then sliced right through Eli. Her gaze raked from his cowboy hat to his feet and back. “I guess he’s handsome enough.”
As if that was the most important
requirement in a boyfriend. Or a boss. Or whatever Eli was. Meg wasn’t entirely sure what was going on between her and Eli, how to classify it, or if she’d really quit in two weeks’ time.
“Can we come in?” Meg wasn’t going to try to get up the four steps with all the snow if her mom wasn’t going to invite her in. From the sweet stench of garbage wafting from the house, Meg didn’t really want to go in. But it would be better than standing out in the arctic temperatures.
“Yes, come in, come in. I can’t be heating the whole world.” She turned and ambled back inside, the hip she’d broken a decade ago causing a limp on the right side.
Meg exchanged a glance with Eli and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before mounting the steps and entering the house. The living room looked like her mom had started living in it permanently, with blankets piled on the couch and a dirty plate on the side table. But the real smell came from the kitchen, where it was obvious her mother hadn’t taken the garbage out in months.
“Mom.” Meg glanced around, suddenly knowing what she’d spend the night doing.
“Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me. I’m doin’ fine.”
Eli picked up two bags of trash and said, “I’ll lend a hand.”
“I don’t need a hand.”
“Mom.” Meg put herself between Eli and her mother. “Let him help you. Are you packed? We’re leaving very early in the morning.”
“Oh, I haven’t thought about it.”
“Mom, you called me to come get you, remember?”
Her mom opened the fridge and pulled out a can of diet cola. “I’ll be ready.” Her hawk eyes went to Eli when he banged the door against the wall. “Be careful, boy. This is an old house.”
Eli paused, shock making his eyes widen. “I’m thirty-five-years-old, ma’am. I am not a boy.”
Meg sucked in a breath, horrified at what he’d said—and how her mother would react. Her mom sputtered, and Eli tipped his cowboy hat and continued into the garage. The fresh air that came in, though it was cold, was a relief.
Meg turned back to her mom and asked, “Can I help you pack?” in the sweetest voice she could muster.
