Pining For You: Jasper Falls

by Lydia Michaels

  He chuckled, reading through a dozen clever autumn hashtags. His favorite was maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s maple leaf.

  His mouth tightened around a smile. She was funny. He read her cleverness as a sign of intelligence.

  She had a lot of pictures with smaller children which further bolstered his confidence about hiring her. All in all, she seemed like a sweet young woman. But he reminded himself that social media only showed the best—often times artificial—sides of people.

  No one was sweet all the time. Like everyone else, she probably had a side that wasn’t so nice, and maybe she even had a side that hid a little spice.

  His brain raced somewhere he had no business trespassing and he shut his laptop. Best not to think of her that way. She was the last hope as far as local childcare went, and he really needed this to work out—for Addison’s sake.

  Jasper Falls had a daycare issue that needed to be addressed. He’d tried to get the funding to open a pre-K, but a public pre-school wasn’t in the budget. Until that changed, he was stuck looking for private help like everyone else with children under age five.

  Shoving aside his forgotten sandwich, he flipped open his portfolio. Erin typically left a print out of his schedule for the next day and any notes he might need to prepare for meetings. His gaze snagged on a handwritten message.

  * * *

  Adel’s landlord called again. She still hasn’t paid November’s rent and December’s is now overdue.

  * * *

  He sighed. It never ended.

  Returning to his laptop, he directed an email back to Erin—subject line: PRIORITY.

  * * *

  Get a rundown of what Adel owes and see if you can get her on the phone. I need to find out what’s going on. I also don’t want to pay anything unless everything is working properly at the apartment. Make sure the heater’s been inspected and that all the porch lights have working bulbs. And put together another grocery order for her. Make it a generous one. The holidays are coming. Use my personal card.

  * * *

  He sent the message then cursed, opening up a second email to his assistant—subject line: ALSO…

  * * *

  The new nanny starts today. I’d like you to pop in on her whenever you can, just to see that everything is running smoothly and answer any questions she might have. With the election coming, I can’t afford to lose this one. I want her to feel at home and as comfortable as possible in her new position.

  * * *

  He glanced at the refrigerator, not needing to open the door to recall it basically housed a jar of mustard, cold cuts, and some leftovers.

  * * *

  Unlike Jan, his secretary, Erin wasn’t on the town’s payroll. Erin worked specifically for him as his right hand, so he had no issue imposing on her. She picked up his dry cleaning, did his shopping, and even helped him find popular toys for Addison during the holiday season.

  * * *

  Erin had a way of anticipating his every need and inserting herself at exactly the right moment. He’d be lost without her.

  * * *

  One of the bedrooms will have to be prepared. She can choose any of the unused ones. Have her make a list of any additional items she might need to help her settle in.

  * * *

  There isn’t much food in the fridge. Please take the morning to replenish the pantry and fully stock the kitchen with anything Ms. Marcelli might require. I trust you know what to get. I want her to feel at home, since she will be staying. If there’s anything else you think of, you have my credit card.

  * * *

  He closed the email with an inside joke about her ever-growing Christmas bonus. He had no doubt Erin would see to everything he asked.

  * * *

  This time, Rhett would make sure the new governess had every amenity she could want and no chance of getting burnt out like the last four nannies. He trusted Erin to see to her comfort.

  4

  Stepping outside of the café with her peppermint coffee in hand, Skylar breathed in the crisp winter air and grinned. The wind held the bite of snow, and the sky was swathed in wispy clouds.

  Across the street, Christmas trees crowded the parking lot of O’Malley’s Pub, and salt sprinkled the roads in anticipation of that first dusting of white.

  Gazing at the mayor’s mansion at the other end of Main Street, just beyond the Town Hall, a swirl of excitement gathered in Skylar’s belly. She’d been so keyed up about her new job—and new salary—she barely slept a wink last night.

  Bouncing out of bed around five, she showered and dressed in a carefully selected first day of work outfit. Her salary raised the expectations and she didn’t want to disappoint, so she tried for a professional look that wasn’t too schoolmarm-ish. She wanted to impress her boss, but she also wanted to dress in a way a four-year-old would view as approachable.

  Rocking a gray wool skirt she snagged from the thrift shop last winter, she paired it with black tights and a white turtleneck sweater. The whole outfit put off great governess vibes, and she was pleased with the end result.

  …Pleased with herself.

  She was a governess…

  It started to flurry once she returned with her coffee to her car. She had so many fun ideas for activities to do with Addison, and if it snowed, she could dig into her winter collection of crafts and games.

  Skylar wasn’t quite sure what to expect of her new boss. He seemed busy and important, but also human in a refreshingly humble sort of way.

  Maybe she should feel more intimidated around him, but yesterday he seemed so frazzled and in need of help, she could only see him as a dad in need of a female’s touch. For his daughter, of course! There would be no touching him. He was her boss.

  She backed out of her parking spot and carefully navigated the traffic.

  Should she call him Mayor Buchanan? Or Mr. Buchanan? Or was it okay to call him Rhett?

  She never thought much about the mayor. Before, he had just been the guy who beat her grandfather in the election. She’d done some campaigning on Pop’s behalf and helped stuff envelopes, but Rhett Buchanan had the magnetic sort of charisma women especially seemed to love.

  He could speak about bridges and park benches and stir the most inspired response among the town’s people. A lot of the men bristled at his natural charm, but Skylar believed that was just poorly disguised envy, because all the women in Jasper Falls—married and single—remarked about how handsome he was.

  He was indisputably striking in a timeless way, but she gave him more credit than simply having good genes and a nice voice. He was a visionary and a doer. Since becoming mayor, their little town had improved in ways she never imagined.

  She’d never admit it out loud, but she thought Rhett Buchanan proved the better man for the job. She adored her grandfather, but Mr. Buchanan had accomplished so much in such a short time, she believed he possessed a true gift for civil service.

  Since he’d taken office, the residents seemed happier. And now she was happier, because she would finally be earning enough money to finance her bachelor’s degree and eventually finish her education.

  It didn’t matter that she would be going to college virtually. She still got to experience living out from under her parents’ roof. That was a start in the right direction of finding her independence. And the amount of money she’d be saving on room and board alone made her job worthwhile. But then he had offered her a fabulous starting salary on top of that. If she budgeted and saved her money, she might actually graduate with no student debt, which was practically unheard of.

  She hadn’t even started yet and she loved her new job. She loved her little town and loved the fact that it was snowing. Nothing but sugar-sifted skies and green lights guided her way up Main Street.

  However, those cozy small-town sensations died the moment she arrived at his property. Sure, this house boasted stunning architecture and the landscaping was clean, even for winter, but there was something c
old and unlived-in about the place, something she had never noticed from the town’s view.

  It was almost eerie. The shutters were painted a gleaming black that contrasted beautifully against the white brick, but something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

  As she parked the car beside an old oak tree, she stared up at the looming home and a shiver chased down her spine. The hollow vibe was so unexpected it threw her confidence.

  Maybe it was just the house and had nothing to do with the family inside. After all, the home had housed a hundred mayors, each one replacing the last with a portion of the town’s tax dollars going toward the historic property’s upkeep. It didn’t technically belong to the Buchanans. It belonged to Jasper Falls, so any creepy vibes she sensed shouldn’t be held against them.

  Leaving the boxes of supplies in her car, she climbed the brick steps and knocked. A grand glass chandelier hung overhead, reminding her of the one in the Rose Garden at the White House.

  The door swung open and her gaze climbed the front of her new boss. The wall of his chest seemed broader than the day before, and an expanse of tanned skin peeked out where his collar was undone.

  His hair was damp and the air smelled of soap and mint. His brow creased and his eyes focused on something over her shoulder.

  Had she parked in a bad place?

  “Good morning. Am I too early?” Peeking around his body, she did a quick scan of the home. The inside was worse. Empty and vacant of life. Cold.

  It wasn’t the size of the home. Her family had lots of big houses and none of them felt as expressionless as this.

  “Morning.” His distracted gaze scanned the yard. “Is that snow?”

  “Yup!”

  “Great.” His dry tone contradicted her cheer. “Come in.”

  She stomped her feet on the mat before stepping into the cavernous foyer. It might be a house, but it didn’t feel like much of a home.

  As far as personal touches went, there weren’t any that she could see. Polished floors and a mammoth staircase dotted with ancient furniture upholstered in cold satins and stiff batting. She couldn’t process why it felt so chilly when the outside was twice as cold.

  Removing her coat and hat, she shook the flurries out of her hair. “Not a winter person?”

  “Snow creates chaos.”

  She supposed it did. “But it’s so pretty.”

  He paused and gave her a strange look, then pivoted and walked deeper into the house, each step of his fancy shoes echoing off the polished floor. “You can hang your coat on the hook in the foyer. Addison is still sleeping.”

  She did as he instructed and quickly caught up to him. He glanced down at her as she kept pace by his side. Did he not expect her to follow?

  She paused and considered the time. “I expected Addison to be awake. Does she usually sleep this late?”

  “She usually rises somewhere between nine and eleven, unless I wake her. Are you a morning person?”

  Skylar liked to think of herself as an everything person, a sort of go with the current kind of gal. “That’s a wide range.” She considered how important structure and routine was for children Addison’s age. “What time does she usually go to bed?”

  “Whenever I head up. Last night I was looking over grant proposals until after midnight.”

  Her eyes widened. Didn’t he know that children Addison’s age needed sleep for proper development? “You let her stay up until after midnight?”

  “She usually crashes on the sofa, but doesn’t like to go to bed until I do.”

  Skylar followed him into what appeared to be the family room. The couch was actually something designed after the eighteenth century and she found great comfort in the sight of a messy toybox in the corner.

  “She can be a little cranky in the mornings,” he warned. “She usually has her cereal in here and watches a few hours of television to wake up.”

  “A few hours?”

  “I know.” He at least had the self-awareness to look semi-guilty. “I read all the articles about limiting children’s screen time, but it’s just easier. As a single dad, I’m sort of stretched thin. You’re welcome to adapt her schedule however you see fit. God knows it won’t hurt.”

  “I appreciate that. Does Addison have any allergies I need to know about?”

  Skylar would typically take this time to inform him that she was CPR certified and offer other credentials to put him at ease, but she was getting the impression that he truly had been desperate for any capable body to help care for his kid.

  “No, but she’s never been stung by a bee, so I guess there’s that.” He looked unsure for a moment, a total contradiction to his powerful posture and the sleek part of his hair. “Just call 9-1-1 if anything goes wrong. And I should give you my number as well.”

  “That would be good.”

  She’d followed him into a cavernous kitchen. It appeared recently renovated, as the appliances were all stainless and state of the art, but the cabinetry looked handcrafted and old world. He gave her a brief tour of the drawers and shelves, pointing out where the silverware was and inviting her to help herself to anything in the pantry.

  “Erin will be by to set you up with groceries. I want you to make yourself at home. If there’s anything you need, please add it to the shopping list. I know moving into a new home will be an adjustment, but I don’t want you to feel restricted to your room. Which reminds me, Erin came by early this morning and made up one of the bedrooms for you.”

  “Erin?” She recalled the woman, but hadn’t been formally introduced yet. She wasn’t sure what her relationship was to Rhett.

  “My PA. You should have her number, too. I’ll send it to you. She can answer any questions you might have—probably better than me. She controls my schedule, handles all my daily tasks, and basically keeps me from losing my mind.”

  “Wow.”

  He paused. They had circled through the cavernous house and returned to the foot of the winding staircase. “Wow?”

  She shrugged. “It must be nice to have someone that attentive all the time.” He must be pretty important to have so much going on that he needed an Erin in his life. Skylar mostly navigated day-to-day living on her own.

  He grinned. “Erin’s a real asset.” He didn’t say more, but she suspected there might be something more than a business relationship there.

  Following him around was like the scene in Annie when she arrives at Daddy Warbucks’s house. It was an overwhelming orientation and she was certain she’d need things repeated, but he seemed in such a rush to give her a tour, she simply tried to absorb as much as possible.

  The second floor had six large bedrooms. “The door on the far end is the master. The middle one is Addison’s. Let me text Erin and see which room she made up for you.”

  The bedrooms were all enormous with grand windows and antique furniture. She’d never slept in a large space and worried it might feel like resting in a tomb more than the cozy, cramped bedroom she’d grown up in.

  His phone pinged and he frowned. “Huh—I guess she was thinking of privacy. She set you up on the third floor.”

  At the end of the hall, opposite the master bedroom, was a narrow door leading to an even narrower staircase that curved at the bottom. She followed him up the slim wooden steps and instantly thought of Flowers in the Attic.

  Bare wood floors and a large window gave the room a sense of vacancy. The furniture was simple and dark wood. The bed was a twin with only a quilt folded on top. There was an antique wardrobe cabinet on the far wall and a private bathroom with a claw-foot tub behind the other.

  The fireplace in the corner had been painted over with white and no longer appeared functional, but the room seemed warm enough, aside from the draft she felt by the front window. The glass was old and marbled, beautiful but drafty. Nothing some curtains wouldn’t fix.

  “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of belongings to bring.”

  Not really. “It’s lovely. Thank yo
u.”

  “Feel free to personalize the space to suit your taste.” He paused and studied her. “I should be the one thanking you. I was fresh out of options and had been running help wanted ads for two weeks trying to find someone to help with Addison. It’s not good for her to be cooped up in an office all day. Kids should be busy running around and playing. I’m grateful you found us.”

  She agreed, children needed freedom and supervision to safely explore. “I’m sure we’ll have a great time getting to know each other.”

  His head tipped as his stare turned curious. “Did you always want to work with kids?”

  “Ever since I learned that a unicorn doctor isn’t a thing, and a bride is just a one day job.”

  A smile climbed to his eyes. “A bride?”

  She shrugged. “Moms are a big deal in my family. When I was little, I just assumed you needed to be a bride to be a mom.”

  “So, you want kids.”

  “I think so—someday.”

  “How old are you?”

  She flushed, hoping he wasn’t asking because she sounded immature or overly whimsical, which she sometimes was. “I’m twenty-one.”

  He blinked as if this surprised him. “I assumed you were a little older.” He took a subtle step back, but she felt the intentional distance, unsure how to translate such body language.

  “Is my age a problem?”

  “Not at all. Just a surprise.”

  An awkward moment passed where neither of them seemed to know how to gracefully move on. “I have all my paperwork in the car,” she blurted, painfully aware of the strange shift in energy.