by Amy Field
“Oh, thank you. I really appreciate it,” Violet replied, taking the stiff paper fan on a stick from the lady.
“You’re welcome. Try to keep it with you everywhere you go this time of year,” she suggested, as the bus stopped and she stood to leave.
“Thanks again. You’re a life saver,” Violet smiled, happy to know there were still a few kind souls in the world.
Two stops later, she got off of the bus and walked another block to her dingy studio apartment a good bit north of town. She made herself a bowl of cereal for dinner and sat in the one chair she owned, propping her feet on a milk crate.
As she ate, the baby kicked, and she rubbed the tender spot beneath her ribs. On one hand, she was past ready to have this baby out of her body. But on the other hand, the thought still frightened her tremendously. What was she going to do? The only work she’d been able to secure, thanks to Henry smearing her name in an attempt to spin the story of their breakup in his favor, were odd temp jobs. Thankfully, various caterers she’d frequently sourced when she was thriving as an event planner would give her work whenever they could.
But when the baby came, she wouldn’t be able to work for a while. She still had a little in savings, but it would run out soon enough. She needed to figure out a long-term plan. Her belongings consisted of little other than a bed and a chair. For the soon-to-arrive baby, she’d found a bassinet at a children’s consignment store and she’d managed to pick up some sleepers, diapers and other baby supplies here and there. She had nothing else really, save a couple of suitcases full of designer clothes she couldn’t fit into right now.
Her eyes drifted to the quilted Chanel suitcases against the wall. She should sell them, along with most of their contents, but couldn’t bring herself to perform that heinous act. She still believed there was a chance of regaining a modicum of her former life. “Complete with events requiring Elie Saab evening gowns,” she thought as her eyes darted to the garment bag peeking from the closet.
A deep ache settled into her back, sharpening and spreading around to the front of her stomach. Her eyes grew round. She’d read enough pregnancy blogs to know what this meant. Besides, four days past her due date, she knew to expect it and what to do.
For the next couple of hours, she timed the contractions and made sure she had everything she needed in her hospital bag. When they reached eight minutes apart, she called the cab company, and took a long, hot shower. Most women, alone with no one to help them, would’ve probably made their way to the hospital at the first sign of a contraction. Maybe Violet was attempting to put off the inevitable, but as she arrived at the hospital to check in, her contractions now five minutes apart, she clutched at the wheelchair a patient care tech immediately made her sit in, gasping for breath, scared out of her mind.
Half an hour later, garbed in a hospital gown and settled in a bed, she winced at the pressure caused by the anesthesiologist administering her epidural. Since checking in, she’d had to endure more looks of pity than she cared to count as nurses, techs and doctors looked around for her “person.” She kept explaining that she was doing this alone. All alone.
And other than the midwife and nurses, she was all alone as she started to push later that night, and also alone the first time she heard Tennessee Monroe Jansen’s cries. But once the room had cleared out and her infant son nestled against her and stared up at her face with wide eyes, she didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.
“It’s just the two of us, Ten. Just you and me from now on, but I’ll always be here for you, my little love,” she promised. She nuzzled her little boy’s cheek, amazed at how soft his skin felt. Still riding a euphoric high from the birth of her darling boy and the lack of pain thanks to her epidural not yet fully worn off, Violet wished she could stay in the safe little bubble of a hospital room and never have to face the outside world again.
Six Weeks Later
Violet’s eyes flew open as Ten’s wails pierced through the dark apartment. She flicked on the lamp by her bed and scooped him out of the bassinet.
“Is Mama’s baby ready to eat?” she asked softly as his cries tapered off. She settled into her chair once she had his bottle ready and held him close as she fed him. While he ate, she planned.
Officially out of money, she had to be out of her crappy apartment by the end of the week. She’d started looking for a job as soon as she could after Ten’s birth, but it was easier said than done. Henry had blacklisted her, and she couldn’t afford to work just anywhere. Finding quality care for Ten wasn’t going to be cheap, and she wasn’t going to leave her baby with just anyone.
Ten began to doze off in her arms after finishing his bottle and she burped him, changed him and placed him back in his bassinet. What a good little boy he was! Only crying when he was hungry or needed changing. She stroked his chubby little cheek before getting back in bed.
With much on her mind, sleep wouldn’t come easily. Violet picked up her phone and scrolled through a help wanted page she’d found online. After a minute or so, a particular post caught her eye:
WANTED: EXPERIENCED DESIGNER AND EVENT PLANNER FOR RANCH RENOVATION BETWEEN DALLAS AND TYLER.
ROOM AND BOARD PROVIDED, SALARY NEGOTIABLE
CONTACT QUINN HARPER AT 903-854-9658 FOR MORE INFORMATION AND TO SCHEDULE AN INTERVIEW.
Room and board. Salary. Those were things she needed. Nowhere did it mention that the employee couldn’t have children. She made a note to call the contact person as soon as it was a decent morning hour to place a phone call. Violet put her phone down and rested her head against her pillow, hoping that maybe she’d just found the answer to her prayers.
Chapter Three
Dressed in a blue suit tailored to perfection, she was ever so thankful that she’d already dropped the twenty pounds she’d picked up carrying Ten. Violet took in her surroundings as she passed the rolling pastures and wooded forests while traveling down Harper Ranch’s long, winding drive. This ranch functioned as a game ranch, which afforded the landscape a more rustic, woodsy feel, as opposed to the flat, uneventful scenery typical of most cattle ranches.
She parked the car she’d rented for the drive out to Will’s Point in front of the main house, a two story, expansive lodge style home. Before getting out, Violet pulled her compact from her purse and checked her lipstick. She had to look just right. She wanted to be considered a serious candidate for this position, because a lot rode on how well this interview went. Not only did she need to make sure she had a place to live, but more importantly, she needed to provide for Ten.
At the thought of Ten, a small smile tugged at her lips. She wondered how her neighbor, Mrs. Gonzalez was faring with him. It had been so much harder than she’d imagined leaving him for the first time, but Mrs. Gonzalez had assured her that he would be just fine. After all, she’d raised six children and had 22 grandchildren, and knew a thing or two about babies. And besides, despite her attempt to specifically not get to know any of her neighbors, Mrs. Gonzalez wouldn’t have it. She’d regularly brought over plates of food for Violet, always complaining she “made too much” and checked in on her often throughout her pregnancy and even more since Ten’s birth.
Violet had grown quite fond of the elderly lady, but the fact of the matter was, she wasn’t a spring chicken. Mrs. Gonzalez would do anything for anyone, but her body simply wouldn’t allow for it anymore. She tired quickly, seeing as she was pushing 80 years old. That was the only worry now nagging at Violet, and why she couldn’t depend on her for babysitting if she found a full-time position.
Getting out of the car, Violet walked purposefully up the wide front steps and onto the lodge’s covered front porch. Standing at the double doors, she rang the doorbell and heard it echo from within. A few seconds later, the door opened.
“Hello, there. You must be Miss Jansen,” the tall man said in a deep voice as he smiled at her warmly.
“Yes, sir, but you can call me Violet. Are you Mr. Harper?” She replied, his pleasant gaze h
olding her captive. She couldn’t look away - he had the most striking shade of green eyes she’d ever seen.
“Call me Quinn,” he told her, shaking her hand before waving her inside. “Just follow me right this way—my office is at the back of the house,” his voice echoed through the cavernous foyer with its large, and somehow lovely, antler chandelier. She followed his broad, strong frame donned in a plaid shirt and worn out jeans to his casual office.
As she glanced around at the rustic desk, leather sofa and deer heads lining the wall, Violet suddenly felt overdressed in her navy skirt and jacket. Quinn took a seat at his desk and gestured for her to have a seat in an armchair across from him.
“I’ll get right to it, Violet,” he began as he briefly looked at some papers scattered on his desk, “after going over your interview, you’re actually overqualified for this position.”
“Actually, I’ve been desiring a career change for the past year, and I believe my professional experience as an event planner, as well as the work I’ve done staging homes, will be a tremendous advantage,” she explained confidently.
“I’ve no doubt about that, but Will’s Point is an hour from Dallas…and this will be more of a destination location. There’s not much out here. Would you really be happy out here away from it all?”
“Oh yes,” she said, even though she wasn’t at all sure that she would. After she answered, he briefly went over the salary, which was a pittance compared to her previous income with Henry’s firm, but room and board was included.
“There’s a bedroom and bathroom on this floor not too far from the kitchen that I’ve set aside for the person who takes this position. I also have three other live-in employees for the main house - Harriet, our chef, Dana, our housekeeper who sort of works as a general overseer of everything going on, and Lila, who does most of the laundry. Their rooms are on the other side of the main floor. We have about a dozen ranch workers that live here, too, but their rooms are adjacent to the stables.”
“Wow, you’ve got a pretty good operation going on here.”
“Yes, but I really want upgrade it into a retreat style ranch. We have the game and horses handled, but with this huge house, I feel like we could really offer something special, you know?” he asked.
She nodded. “I absolutely agree. As I drove in, I couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous scenery. I can only imagine what I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing yet.”
Quinn rose from his seat. “Come on, let me give you a tour real quick. Can’t expect you to want to work here if you don’t even know what you’re working with,” he said with a wink.
Violet followed Quinn as he gave her the tour of the house and some of the grounds. As they peeked into the bedrooms upstairs and through the large dining room and great room on the main floor, Violet loved everything that she saw. Sure, the décor was a tad bit dated, and they would need to modify a few of the rooms to better accommodate guests, but overall, the lodge was a diamond in the rough. She had no doubt that she could easily turn the place into a premier retreat destination.
“So, let me get this straight—you own this fabulous house and ranch, and you’ve converted a room over the garage into your bedroom?” she asked dumbfounded.
“Well, technically it was a large bonus room and it can be accessed by a flight of stairs just off of the kitchen. It’s just more private, you know?”
“I get that, I do,” she nodded.
As Quinn showed her around the stables and pointed out a few of the fields and ponds frequented by whitetail deer, Violet turned to him. “I’m not sure where you stand as far as candidates for this position, but I want you to know that I want this. I see your vision for this beautiful place, and I believe I can make it happen,” she said point blank, hiding her reservations as best she could.
Quinn stared at her briefly, seeming to contemplate her no-nonsense approach. “The position is yours, then. I’ve interviewed some stellar applicants, but there’s something about you, Violet. I know you’re the right person for this,” he said nodding.
“Great! I can’t wait to get started,” she replied with a bright smile.
“I have to head out this upcoming week to a convention in San Antonio—it would be a good opportunity for you to settle in, get unpacked and start a list of everything that needs to be tackled immediately,” he continued, “Let’s go back to my office and work out the details.”
As she walked back to the great lodge with him, Violet couldn’t believe her luck. In one day, she’d managed to find a job and provide a home for her and Ten. Quinn spoke with animation about his hopes for the place, and Violet knew she should interject and bring up the fact that next week she would arrive with an infant in tow, but she couldn’t work up the nerve. Maybe he just wouldn’t notice?
Chapter Four
“Are you ready to see your new home, sweet boy?” Violet cooed as she pulled into the winding drive three days later. Her entire life and everything she owned was now loaded into the truck she’d rented. If Quinn protested Ten’s presence, she had no clue what would become of her. With nowhere to go and fifty dollars to her name, she depended on a wing, a prayer and her killer design style to pull this off.
After she parked the small truck near the garage, she pulled Ten’s carrier out of the seat and hurried to the back kitchen door, her fingers tightly gripping the key Quinn had already given her. She prayed that none of the house staff would be around. Pushing the wooden door open, an alarm beeped and she rushed to enter the code she’d memorized. Once the beeping stopped, she breathed a sigh of relief. Since the alarm was set, it was likely that no one was in the quiet house.
Just in case, she remained silent as she walked through the vast, farmhouse style kitchen and down the hall that lead to the bedroom that had been set aside for her. Flipping the light switch, she surveyed the room with grim determination. The room far outweighed her crummy apartment—the dark walnut floors, the soft gray walls and natural linen curtains all felt casual but luxurious. But the space wasn’t very big, and a bed and dresser took up most of the floor space. Where would she put the bassinet and Ten’s clothing and diaper supply?
She sat Ten’s carrier on the floor and whispered to the baby as he napped, “I’ll be right back - I’m just going to get some of our things from the truck.” She practically ran, her heart a knot in her chest as she grabbed her suitcases and Ten’s diaper bag. Violet rushed back to the room, dropping her armful of belongings as relief washed over her at the sight of Ten still sleeping.
She bit her lip. This wasn’t going to work. Where would she hide Ten while she worked?
Footsteps echoed down the hall. “Miss Jansen, is that you?” a female voice with a heavy Spanish accent inquired.
“Um, yes, yes, it’s me!” She rushed out of the door and closed it behind her, nearly running into the short, older Hispanic woman searching her out.
“It is so good to meet you. I am Dana Flores, Mr. Harper’s housekeeper. He told me to make sure you settled in and had everything that you needed. Do you need anything? More towels maybe? Can I help you unpack?
“Actually, I just arrived and I don’t even know what I need. It’s a little overwhelming, you know? I think I need a little time to myself to figure things out, but I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do,” Violet replied, her hand already reaching for the doorknob once more when the distinguishable sound of a baby crying broke the few seconds of silence. Ten must have woken up from his nap!
“Miss Jansen, do I hear a baby in your room?” Dana asked, looking confused.
“No, nope. No baby. Why would there be a baby?” Violet asked just as Ten picked up his crying in earnest.
“Yes, ma’am. There is most certainly a baby in your room,” Dana repeated, not a question this time.
Violet sighed, putting her head in her hands. “I knew this was too good to be true,” she cried, shaking her head before opening the door to reveal a red-faced baby screaming and pushing his fists
into the air.
“He’s hungry,” Violet explained as she unbuckled Ten and picked him up, “and wet,” she added, kissing the baby’s downy head. Dana looked on in shock as Violet tended to him.
“Miss Jansen,” she finally started as Violet settled against the bed pillows to feed Ten, “does Mr. Harper know about your baby?”
Violet rubbed Ten’s chubby cheek with her thumb as she shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. To be honest, I was so desperate for this job that I left that tiny detail out the other day. I didn’t mean to, I was just so worried he wouldn’t hire me, and I was about to be on the streets and out of money.”
“Oh, young lady, that is awful. I am so sorry. What about the baby’s father?” she inquired.
“He and I are no longer together. He doesn’t know about the child, and I never want him to know either.”
“I see, I see. Miss Jansen, you know you are going to have to tell Mr. Harper that your baby is here.”
“I know, but I don’t see him keeping me on if I have a baby in tow. It’s not a good selling point for someone who is practically a stranger.”
Dana shrugged. “You never know, he may surprise you.”
“Dana, can I ask you for a favor? I know Quinn is gone all week to San Antonio. Will you not mention this to him? I promise, I will tell him when he returns, but if I can get started this week, really dig in and get a great workup for the space, put a few changes in place…really show him what I am capable of, maybe the extra little person that comes along with me might not be the biggest deal? Will you keep my secret for a few days?”
“Yes, I will keep quiet regarding your child, but I do not like lying to Mr. Harper, so please tell him as soon as possible,” Dana relented.
“Thank you so much, Dana. I owe you one,” Violet said with tears springing to her eyes. She reached over and hugged the older woman, who in a most motherly fashion, held Violet for a moment and patted her back.
