by Myra Johnson
Stepping into the kitchen, he found Joseph perched on a barstool at one end of the granite counter. A milk mustache adorned the boy’s upper lip, and cookie crumbs dotted the counter. At the oak trestle table beyond, the housekeeper wannabe sat with her back toward Seth while Omi went over some paperwork with her. The dog lay on the floor between their chairs.
Joseph didn’t share Eva’s intense fear of dogs, but he still looked plenty glad to see his dad walk in. He jumped down and ran over to hug Seth around the waist. “Where’s Eva?”
“With Opi.” Seth kept his voice light. “You want to go help them in the barn?”
Joseph’s welcoming smile faded. “Can’t I stay here with you?”
“I need to talk business with Omi. Go keep an eye on your sister, okay?”
Lower lip thrust out, Joseph trudged across the kitchen. Seth waited until he heard the back door bang shut, then strode around the bar.
Omi looked up as he approached. “Hey, Seth, meet our new housekeeper. Christina, this is my grandson, Seth Austin.”
He glared at the woman while trying to ignore how her hair shimmered beneath the wagon-wheel chandelier. “I believe we’ve already met.”
* * *
Her pulse skittering, Christina looked up with a gasp. “You?”
“Surprise.” Seth Austin’s greeting held no warmth whatsoever.
“Seth...?” Mrs. Peterson’s tone was part question, part warning.
“We sort of ran into each other in town this afternoon,” Seth muttered. He looked pointedly at Gracie. “I told you we can’t have dogs on the place.”
“We’ve already talked this through,” Mrs. Peterson said patiently. “Gracie is Christina’s service dog.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Seth’s fierce stare wavered as he glanced toward his grandmother. “But think about Eva. You know this can’t work.” He swung his gaze back to Christina. “I’m sorry, Miss—”
“Hunter.” Christina swallowed nervously. Was she about to get fired before she’d even filled out her W-4?
“Miss Hunter. Like I told you in town, we’ve got rules. This is a working ranch, and safety is our number one concern. We aren’t in a position to start making exceptions.”
Whining softly, Gracie sat up and rested her chin on Christina’s leg. When Christina glanced down into those soft, expressive eyes, the tension that had welled at Seth’s arrival slowly subsided. One hand on Gracie’s head, she sat a little straighter and cleared her throat. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Austin. As long as Gracie isn’t disruptive and doesn’t interfere with my work, I have the legal right to keep her with me.”
Jaw clenched, Seth backed up a step. His steely gaze combed Christina from head to toe. “Housekeeping at a guest ranch isn’t exactly light work, and you look pretty able-bodied to me.” His tone turned skeptical. “So forgive me for asking, but what exactly is your disability?”
Christina pressed her lips together. She should be used to the question by now, along with the typical doubts. If she’d lost her sight or hearing, or if she were in a wheelchair, her disability and need for a service animal would be obvious. But when she explained she’d suffered a brain injury and had post-traumatic stress disorder, she’d come to expect the raised eyebrows and dubious frowns.
Before she could form a response, Mrs. Peterson interrupted. “Now, Seth, stop the third degree and be a gentleman. Christina’s been forthright with me about why she needs Gracie, and I’m not anticipating any problems.”
Seth glared at his grandmother as if debating his chances of winning this argument. Christina held her breath and prayed. She needed this job. It could mean the difference between being stuck forever living with her overprotective parents or groping her way back to independence and a normal life.
“All right, have it your way.” With a sharp exhalation, Seth turned to go. Before he’d taken three steps, he swung around and leveled a finger at Christina. “But first sign of a problem and you’re out of here, got it? And keep that dog away from my kids.”
Christina didn’t realize how badly she’d started shaking until she felt Gracie’s wet nose beneath her palm. Giving the dog all her attention, she forced herself to breathe. Get back in the car and go home, her inner voice demanded. You’re not ready. This was a mistake. A huge, horrible mistake.
Mrs. Peterson set a glass of water at Christina’s place. “Seth’s all bluster and very little bite. He’s got his issues, too. Give him time and he’ll come around.”
After taking a sip of water, Christina slid the employment papers across the table. “You’ve been very understanding, but your grandson clearly doesn’t want me here.” She pushed unsteadily to her feet. “I don’t think this is going to work out after all.”
“Now hold on, honey.” Mrs. Peterson shoved the paperwork back toward Christina. “We’ve got fourteen guests coming for a family reunion this weekend. Where do you think we’re gonna find another housekeeper on such short notice?”
Christina sighed and glanced toward the window. Near the barn, Seth knelt in front of his children, and the little girl’s face looked anything but happy. When she and her brother had come to the house earlier, the girl had taken one look at Gracie and run screaming into her great-grandmother’s arms. At least Mrs. Peterson hadn’t overreacted. She’d calmly offered the little girl a cookie and led her out to the porch.
Seth had issues? Apparently his children did, too. As an experienced child and family social worker, and emotionally traumatized herself as a result of her auto accident, Christina recognized the signs. Was it possible God had sent her here for this very reason, to offer help to a troubled family?
Shoulders sagging, she returned to her chair. “All right, I’ll stay. But let’s take it one day at a time. The last thing I want is to cause more problems for those kids.”
“Believe me, honey, you’ll be like a breath of fresh air around here. I felt it in my bones from our very first phone interview.” Mrs. Peterson handed Christina a pen. “Let’s get these papers filled out, and then I’ll show you to your cabin so you and Gracie can get comfortable in your new digs.”
Chapter Two
Seth kept the kids occupied helping Opi with simple barn chores until he was certain their new housekeeper had finished her business with Omi and had gone to her cabin. He couldn’t avoid Christina Hunter indefinitely, but he’d make sure she kept her dog well away from Eva. This being Christina’s first night on the place, Seth figured Omi would invite her to the house for supper, so he decided to take the kids down to the picnic area by the lake and grill something for just the three of them.
While he stood in the utility room digging through the chest-type freezer for franks or burgers, Omi came up behind him. “I know you’re mad, Seth, but you might as well get over it. Christina’s staying. And so is her dog.”
He nearly rammed his head on the freezer lid as he straightened to face his grandmother. “I don’t tell you how to run the ranch, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere in how I take care of my kids.”
“That’s a laugh!” Omi set her hands at her ample waist. “You’ve always got plenty to say about how we run things around here, and I’m right glad you do. But the truth is, somebody needs to tell you a thing or two about how you’re raising those youngsters. Georgia’s been gone three years now. You aren’t helping your kids one bit by mollycoddling them like you do.”
“You know as well as I do the heartache Joseph and Eva have suffered.” Seth fought to keep his voice level. “I’m just trying to give them the room they need to heal. What’s wrong with that?”
“Not a blasted thing. Except I worry all this room you’re giving them—without the benefit of some kind of counseling—is just more space to wallow in their grief and fear.”
“We tried counseling.” Returning his attention to
his quest, Seth pushed aside some frozen pizzas. “If you remember, it was an interfering social worker who nearly lost me my kids.”
“You can’t write off the whole field of psychology because one dimwit couldn’t see past the end of her nose.”
Green beans, stir-fry mix, brown-and-serve rolls—there had to be franks and buns in here somewhere. Seth’s fingers were getting numb.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Omi snapped. When he told her his intentions, she scoffed. “No cause to run off and hide. Christina’s worn out from her trip. I’m sending a plate of food to her cabin.”
Nose in the air, Omi marched out of the utility room, leaving Seth to stew in his own lousy mood. Maybe he had grown too protective of his kids, but he wasn’t taking any more chances with their frail little spirits. When Georgia had left him, taking the kids with her, Seth had nearly gone off the deep end. To this day, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been able to make his wife happy right here on the ranch.
But no, with a degree in urban design from Texas A&M, Georgia wanted more than Juniper Bluff had to offer. When a big-name architectural firm in Minneapolis offered her a position, she said yes first and informed Seth after the fact.
He should have seen right then that there were more problems in his marriage than Georgia’s need for career fulfillment.
And he should never have allowed her to take the kids. He could shoulder the blame for the upheaval they’d suffered, because if he’d swallowed his stupid male pride and followed Georgia to Minneapolis instead of staying put and waging the war for his marriage and his kids long distance, things might have turned out a whole lot differently.
Some things, anyway. A deep, throbbing ache rolled through him. He slammed down the freezer lid and leaned hard into it while he tried to shove the memories from his mind. The phone call from his mother-in-law saying Georgia had gotten sick. The unbearable wait for test results. The wondering, the questions, the prayers. Then the devastating cancer diagnosis that gave Georgia only weeks to live.
“Seth?” His grandfather’s voice sounded behind him. “You okay?”
He straightened and drew a hand down his face. The day’s growth of whiskers rasped beneath his palm. “Yeah, fine.”
“Omi’s got supper on the table. I had the kids wash up.”
“Be right there. I need to wash up, too.”
A splash of cold water soothed his stinging eyes. Joining his family at the table, he plucked a piece of straw from Eva’s hair as he sat down beside her. Leaning over to plant a kiss on her sweet blond head, he thought his heart would burst with all the love he felt for this child. For both his children.
Clearing his throat meaningfully, Opi reached for Eva’s hand on one side and Joseph’s on the other. Seth joined hands with Eva and Omi as his grandfather bowed his head to offer thanks.
Afterward, Joseph helped himself to a hefty serving of Omi’s seasoned pan fries. “Opi says tomorrow we can ride over to Mr. Nesbit’s farm and see his calves.”
Eva tugged on Seth’s sleeve and whispered, “You’ll come, too, won’t you, Daddy?”
“Sure, hon. Soon as chores are done, we’ll all go.” It would be a good excuse to get the kids away from the ranch and avoid running into the housekeeper and her dog.
Omi passed a platter of sliced ham to Seth, but before he could serve himself, a knock sounded on the back door. Omi offered a placid smile. “Seth, would you mind?”
He did mind, because the only other person on the place tonight was Christina Hunter. He forked a slab of ham onto his plate and smiled right back. “Maybe you should get it.”
“You’ll get there faster than I can. Let’s not keep our visitor waiting.”
Yep, Marie Peterson definitely reigned supreme at Serenity Hills. Muttering under his breath, Seth wadded his napkin next to his plate and marched to the door. Through the glass pane, he glimpsed Christina standing on the porch, arms folded as she glanced right and left. The evening dusk was gathering, and something about the anxious look on her face made him swallow the caustic greeting on the tip of his tongue.
He opened the inner door and spoke through the screen. “Can I help you?”
“Oh. Hi.” She seemed surprised to see him standing there. “I—well—this is embarrassing, but I’ve already locked myself out of my cabin.”
“Hang on. I’ll get you another key.” Seth should have invited her inside, but it wasn’t happening while she had the dog with her. He slipped down the short hallway to the office, where he fetched a duplicate key.
On his return trip, his grandmother stopped him in the kitchen and handed him a tray covered with an oversize checkered napkin. “Here’s Christina’s supper. Tell her to come on over for breakfast in the morning, seven sharp.”
Seth ground his teeth. Good thing the kids rarely came downstairs before seven thirty. “You planning on having her eat with us every meal?”
“Of course not. Just till she settles in and has a chance to pick up some groceries for herself.”
Lips in a twist, Seth dropped the key onto the tray and continued to the back door. He nudged it open with his hip. “My grandmother sent this tray for you. The key’s right here.”
“Thanks. Sorry to cause so much trouble.” One hand on the dog’s head, Christina looked ready to jump out of her skin.
Seth figured he’d kick himself later, but his kindlier instincts kicked in. Nice to realize he still had a few. “Would you feel better if I walked you back to the cabin?”
“Please don’t bother. You already think little enough of me.” Her throat shifted. She reached for the tray. “I’ll just—”
“No, wait.” Rats, all he needed was to go soft over a woman in distress. Looked like his own supper would be getting cold. “The path can be tricky after dark, especially before all the vapor lights power up. I’ll make sure you get back safely.”
“You really don’t mind?”
Seth harrumphed. “Need to make sure the pasture gates got latched. Might as well see you to your cabin on the way.”
Christina looked at him sideways as if she didn’t quite believe him, but a little of her apprehension seemed to have lifted. They started down the path together, Seth carrying the tray and making sure to walk on the opposite side from her dog. No sense giving Christina the idea he’d softened his stance on the animal’s presence. Because he hadn’t and he wouldn’t.
The ranch had two staff cabins, located on the far side of the main house and secluded from the guest cabins. They had to walk past the garage and a couple of outbuildings, then through a copse of trees, and Christina kept her hand on the dog’s shoulder the whole way. Seth still hadn’t been told what her disability was that required a service animal, but if it caused this much anxiety, he could see why the shadowy trek to her cabin might be a problem.
All the more reason she didn’t belong on the ranch. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for his grandmother to come to the same conclusion, as well.
* * *
Christina was glad the cabin’s porch light operated on a sensor. The sun hadn’t quite set when she’d gone out earlier on a walk with Gracie. Stupidly, she hadn’t thought to take her key and discovered too late that the door locked automatically. She’d really, really hoped it would be Mrs. Peterson who answered her knock. Seeing Seth on the other side of the screen door had sent her misgivings soaring. How would she endure working here when his dislike was so palpable?
Except he was being pretty nice at the moment, and it didn’t help her nerves one bit now that she knew he was single. Mrs. Peterson hadn’t said much about Seth’s wife except that they’d separated and soon afterward she’d become ill and passed away.
He set the tray of food on one of the retro-style red metal porch chairs, then picked up the key and unlocked her door. “There you go. Need anything else?�
�
“I should be fine now. Thank you so much.”
“Oh, uh, breakfast at the house at seven. Omi’s orders.” He even smiled a tiny bit when he said it.
“Omi. What a cute name.” Tray in hand, Christina stood in the doorway. “Does it have special meaning?”
“It’s a German-family thing. My great-great-grandparents emigrated from Germany and settled in the Fredericksburg area.”
“I came through Fredericksburg on my way to Juniper Bluff. Looks like a fun town to visit.”
“Yeah.” Seth shifted, the need to escape evident in his darting eyes.
“Well. Thanks again.” Christina nodded toward the tray, then smiled up at him. “And thank your grandmother for the meal.”
He tipped an imaginary hat before retreating down the steps and disappearing into the trees.
With darkness rapidly closing in around the cabin, Christina once again succumbed to doubts. Until last night at the motel, she hadn’t been alone overnight since before the automobile accident. The whole time she’d been in the hospital, her mother hadn’t left her side except to shower, change clothes and eat. Not that Christina had been aware the first few weeks while she’d lain in a coma, but later, as she recovered, her father had confirmed her suspicions.
Then five months in a rehabilitation hospital, where Christina had a talkative teenage roommate for the first several weeks, then a nosy grandmotherly type for the remainder of her stay. The past year and a half, she’d lived at home with her parents. And Gracie, of course. Christina blessed the day the service dog had come into her life. Gracie’s training included sensing Christina’s agitation whenever memories of the accident intruded or something else triggered an anxiety attack. A nudge with a wet nose would remind Christina to breathe again and to focus on the present, not the unchangeable past or the uncertain future.
