by Meg Ripley
“Jess, you have got to come. There are tons of schools out here; you’ll definitely find something.”
After a particularly difficult double shift, where the customers had been extra grouchy and my tips extra light, I finally decided to give it a go. What did I have to lose?
I picked up my phone again, trying to see where the little blue line was leading me. I set my phone back down and returned my gaze to the road—just in time to see a flash of black streaking in front of me. I slammed on my brakes. A…bear? Was that a bear that just ran out in front of me?
Once my heart stopped pounding, I drove on. I finally seemed to be getting the hang of my GPS. I’d never needed to use it before; I knew all the roads back home and ten ways to get anywhere. But driving in that neck of the woods was like being in a foreign country.
I saw flashing lights ahead and slowed. When I got to the intersection, I noticed a swarm of cop cars, an ambulance and a firetruck. Someone was directing traffic, so since I couldn’t turn where I needed to, I pulled up to the officer and slid my window down.
“I need to go that way,” I said, pointing left.
“Sorry, Miss. Road’s closed.”
Taking a deep breath, I drove straight through as directed. My GPS told me to turn around and go back the way I couldn’t, and at that point, I felt like just turning around and going home. Old Miss Judy would have probably been retiring soon; I could have just gone back to the diner long enough to wait her out, or maybe sub or tutor in the meantime.
3
Jessie
By the time I pulled into Nikki’s driveway, I was completely flustered. It had taken me twice as long to get there as planned, and I’d gotten lost at least three times. Nikki came bursting out of the house before I had my seatbelt off.
“You made it!” she exclaimed as she ran to greet me.
I got out, and we wrapped each other in a tight hug.
“Let’s take your stuff in.”
Four trips later, several boxes and suitcases sat in her spare bedroom. I’d brought everything except furniture from my small room back home. I’d opened one suitcase and started to unpack my clothing when Nikki called to me, “Leave that! Come have tea!” I could unpack later.
We sat at a small, round table with mismatched chairs. Her place wasn’t big, but it was all hers. I was a little jealous, though the cost of her rent terrified me. “It’s all relative,” she’d said. “I made three times what you did waitressing alone, and my new job pays even more. You’ll see.”
I certainly hoped so, sipping at my tea as I tried to relax.
“I thought I’d show you around a bit tomorrow,” Nikki said.
“Sure. As long as you drive.”
She laughed. “Of course.” She slid a newspaper over to me. “Most places post their listings online, but I thought you’d want to check these out, too.”
I looked at the circles she’d made around several listings for teaching positions on the page of classifieds, and my hope rose a little.
“There’ll be lots more online,” she promised.
We chatted about Mom and Dad and life in general. She was loving her job and had made great friends over the last two years since she’d been in the area. As we were talking, her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen and smiled.
“It’s Alaina. You will love her.” She tapped the screen to answer. “Hey gorgeous!” But moments later, her face abruptly fell into confusion. “Oh, sorry,” she said. Then, “What! When?” She put her hand to her mouth, nodded and listened for a long while. “W-What about Peyton?” Her voice wavered when she said, “Thanks for letting me know.”
Setting the phone down, Nikki looked at me, her face pale and shocked.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my own heart racing at her expression.
“Alaina. She’s…dead.”
“Your friend?”
She nodded slowly. “And her husband, Logan. Both dead. Murdered.”
“Murdered?” I screeched.
“They have a daughter. Peyton. She’s just six.”
“Oh my god! That’s just awful.”
She burst into tears and I did my best to comfort her, but the news was nothing short of horrific. She was mid-sob a few minutes later, and her expression suddenly changed. “Wait; you can help them.” She became determined. “You have to help them, Jessie!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The person on the phone told me Peyton’s staying with her uncle, but he needs a nanny. Desperately. He’s a single guy and needs help; I mean, his brother just died, and he has zero experience with kids. This is the perfect job for you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Nikki. That’s not really what I’m looking for.”
“Jessie! You need a job and he needs a nanny. This would be one less thing he’d have to deal with. He’ll need someone good for Peyton; someone he knows and can trust.”
“But I don’t know him.”
“Yeah, but you know me. That’s better than hiring a stranger from a service.”
I shook my head. “I have no experience as a nanny.”
“But you have experience with kids. Come on, even if it’s temporary; please, Jessie.” Her tears spilled over and whatever shock had kept her from crying before vanished. She burst into sobs. “I can’t believe this. I just saw them! I just saw them, and now…”
I got up and went to her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close. “I know. It’s horrible.”
“Help them,” she sputtered. “Please. Peyton is so sweet; you’ll just love her. And now she—she—doesn’t have parents!”
I let her sob on my shoulder for a long while, my shirt damp with her tears, her face red and splotchy. She kept saying over and over, “I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe they’re both gone.”
After mulling the thought over in my mind, I began to reconsider. How hard could this really be, anyway? It’s not like Peyton’s a baby; she’s six. And I do need a job… “Okay, I’ll do it, Nikki. I’ll do whatever I can, even if it’s just for now.”
That night, I lay in bed, wondering what I had gotten myself into. It was only my first day in town; my sister’s friends had been murdered, and I was going to be a nanny? Home and the diner were looking better every hour.
4
Conner
I knew Mason was beside me. I knew Owen was there, too. I had a vague idea of where I was—in a church somewhere—and I knew the most important fact. The one undeniable, inescapable fact. I was at a funeral for my brother and sister-in-law. They were both gone. And I was about to become the guardian of their daughter.
My stomach turned and I closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning. The medication wasn’t helping. The nightmares still came. The flashbacks still came. Things were getting tangled up in my mind. The years I spent on deployment in the Marines, the deaths I’d seen there, the deaths I’d seen here. Faces moved and morphed. My commanding officer was pulled from the swamp, then he became my brother, then my fellow soldier.
I woke up night after night in a sweat, reaching for someone. I hadn’t been able to save Zeke when he’d been shot. I hadn’t been able to save Logan and Alaina, either. I reached for them; I reached for them every damn night. And I woke up feeling inadequate with a heavy pressure on me, telling me I’d failed them all. My therapist prescribed a pill that was supposed to keep the nightmares away, another to calm my racing heart, and yet another to help quell my depression. I don’t think any of them did a damn thing.
I’d been given time off from work, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit at home with my thoughts. I wanted to be out there; to be out saving people. At least let me save someone. Let me find some way to relieve the guilt and stress.
The service had started at some point. I hadn’t noticed exactly when, but some minister began to speak. Who was that guy? Who had chosen him? He was talking about my brother. He walked over to a small CD player and pressed a button. The sound emana
ting from the speakers was tinny—and too quiet, yet too loud at the same time—but the melody hit me like a bullet to the chest. A sudden flash. Logan. Me. Screaming along to this song. Goofing off. Driving too fast. Drinking too much. Dancing our asses off at his wedding. He loved that song. And I’d never be able to listen to it again.
I stood up when the wave moved to my stomach. Hurrying out the back, I saw the bathroom sign, rushed in and heaved up the contents of my stomach. I hadn’t stress puked like that in years. That was one thing my therapist had helped me with, though, the bottle of whiskey I’d guzzled down the night before probably wasn’t helping, either.
Just then, I heard the lawyer’s voice again. “It means that you’re Peyton’s legal guardian.”
How was it that neither Alaina nor Logan had any other capable family members? My mother was still alive, but she was far too ill to take care of a six-year-old. She’d barely made it to the funeral, requiring the assistance of a home nurse to leave the house. “There is no one else,” the lawyer said. “The will specifies you, Mr. Griffin.”
If my brother’s death wasn’t enough to cope with, I was going to be a fucking father, too? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Peyton was adorable. The times I spent with her, she always seemed to have fun, but seeing me once a week for a few hours wasn’t exactly the same as living with me. What would she do at my house? I didn’t have a pink room or dolls. I didn’t have toys. I probably didn’t have anything a child would need. And how could I? I had no idea what kind of stuff kids need to have around.
“The house is yours, too,” the lawyer said. “Well, technically, it’s Peyton’s, but it’s yours until she’s eighteen. There are funds allocated for her care and education.”
I figured we would stay at their house; at least she’d have everything of hers there. It would already be childproofed or whatever parents did to a house to make it safe. It would have her memories. But that meant I’d be sleeping in my brother’s room. Looking at his clothes, his razor in the bathroom and his boots by the front door. For the time being, that was the plan. But I didn’t know how long I would be able to take it.
Admittedly, I’d tried to get out of it. “If you don’t take her, she’ll go into foster care,” the lawyer warned. God, I was such a selfish asshole. Peyton was part of my brother. She was the most important person on the planet to him besides his wife. How could I have abandoned her? I couldn’t. And coming from shifter parents—and being a shifter herself—she couldn’t be safe just anywhere; it’s not like there was a shifter adoption service in the area. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I would have to step up and figure it out. If not for Peyton, then for my brother. That was the only thing I could still do for him at that point.
I splashed water on my face and stumbled out the door, trying to compose myself. In the lobby, a woman sat on a bench near the bathrooms. I didn’t recognize her, but her curves caught my eye, making my inner bear groan. But I noticed she was on her phone, and for some irrational reason, it caused me to rage out. How dare she sit there all casual, chatting away, while my brother and his wife were lying dead in the next room?
“Who are you?” I barked at her.
She looked up, shocked, then glanced around. “Who, me?”
“You.” I walked over to her and crossed my arms. I wanted to yank her off the seat and throw her phone as hard as I could, watching it shatter into millions of tiny pieces.
“I… uhh…” Her face turned red and she swallowed hard. “I’m here for my sister?”
“Is that your answer, or a question?”
Her face reddened. Good, I thought. She should be ashamed of herself.
“I’m… here for my sister.”
“Who’s your sister?”
“Um…Nikki?” Her eyes widened slightly and she said, “Nikki. She was friends with Alaina.”
“But you weren’t.”
“I’m new to town. I came for her, and to meet the brother of…the deceased.”
“Logan,” I seethed. God, she could’ve at least had the decency to know whose funeral she was crashing.
“Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to be in there since I never knew either of them. But, Logan. I understand his brother needs a nanny for their little girl, so I’m here to meet him.”
“So you’re a nanny?”
“No, but I have a degree in elementary education and I’m available. Nikki seemed to think that since I’m her sister and she was friends with Alaina, I’d be a good fit.” She shrugged. “I need a job and he needs a nanny, so I guess it could work out.”
I reassessed her from a new angle. She was dressed modestly and her mousy brown hair was pulled back. Not too much make up on. Not that any of those things meant she was capable, but it seemed like the way an elementary school teacher would be. And she was right about one thing: I needed someone immediately. I didn’t know this ‘Nikki,’ but I knew Alaina, and if Alaina was friends with her, then Nikki must have been a stand-up person.
“384 Olive Street. Sunday at 10.” I turned from her and started to walk away.
“Wait! Are you…?”
I looked back over my shoulder. “Logan’s brother. Conner.”
Her mouth was still hanging open as I walked back into the sanctuary.
5
Jessie
“No, no, no,” I insisted. “Nikki, he was a complete jerk! I don’t even think Peyton should be subject to him; I’m certainly not going to deal with that asshole every day. Thank you for setting this up for me, but I just can’t do it.”
We were back home after the funeral and Nikki put her hands on my shoulders. After my encounter with Conner, I had been in shock at first, and then, was angry. Who did he think he was talking to me like that?
“Please,” she begged. “I know he can be a little…”
“Of a dick?”
She winced. “I was going to say rough around the edges, but he’s been through a lot.”
I sighed. “I know. But I’m not ready for something so difficult. It’s hard enough moving here to a new place, leaving all my friends and Biscuit and Muffin with Mom and Dad.” My throat thickened when I thought about home. My parents, my cuddly cat, Biscuit, and my loyal and loving dog, Muffin, were all there waiting for me. I came to the area to be with my sister, but she was all I had there. My whole life was back home. I sat down on her couch and covered my face, sighing.
Nikki sat beside me. “Jessie, I know you’re a compassionate person. I also know you’re an awesome secret keeper, so I’m going to tell you something about Conner.” She drew in a deep breath. “He was in the Army, and he saw some of his friends get killed. Alaina said that he has nightmares and PTSD from it and that he blames himself. He has some issues, and this is obviously making everything so much worse. That’s no excuse for his behavior, but give the guy a break. He just lost his brother and sister-in-law and became a dad out of nowhere. That’s going to be hard for anyone, on top of his other struggles, so you can’t blame him for being in a bad mood.”
My sister knew me too well. Her words tugged on my heart strings and made me feel sorry for him—and for Peyton. If he was having this trouble, the little girl would need someone to be there for her; someone who had the wherewithal to be compassionate and patient.
“Just try it for a little while,” Nikki continued. “Let him get settled and get back to some kind of schedule. Let Peyton adjust as much as she can. Look, you don’t have another job, anyway; any time you could devote to them would be such a help to him and Peyton—and really, to Alaina and Logan, too. They would want someone amazing to take care of their daughter, and you’re just that someone.”
I chewed my lower lip.
“You can always bail,” she went on. “You can always find something else. But don’t do either until you give it a chance. I mean, attitude aside, you’ve gotta admit, Conner’s pretty hot.” She gave me a grimacing smile.
&nb
sp; I rolled my eyes. “Like that matters.”
“He’s nice to look at, is all I’m saying. I wouldn’t mind having a live-in boss who looks like that.”
“Too bad he’s a complete jerk.”
“Not a complete jerk. Just a…situational jerk. Once he heals a little, he’ll get better. It’s a lot to deal with all at once.”
“Yeah.” I let out a slow, long breath. “I suppose it is.”
6
Conner
“What do you want to do today, honey?”
Peyton sat on the couch and I was on the floor so that my face was close to her level. Somewhere, someone had told me you had to get down on their level so it didn’t seem like you were a big giant to them. A pain struck my chest when I realized it had been Logan.
Peyton didn’t respond to my question. She just looked at her hands.
“Do you want to…watch TV? Read a book? Color?”
She lifted her shoulder the tiniest bit.
“How about we take a walk?”
She shook her head slightly. I blew out a hard breath. Weren’t you supposed to talk to kids and get them to do stuff? If she were old enough to be more in control of her shifting, we could go for a long run; I know it helped me deal with the pain. But she’d been spontaneously shifting as she dealt with the stress of everything. She was still in that childhood phase of being a shifter where you couldn’t control it easily, and when it happened spontaneously, it was the result of an extreme situation. Like finding out your parents were dead.
“Do you have any homework?”
“We don’t get homework,” she mumbled.
It took me a second to work out what she’d said. “You have to get homework. All kids get homework.”
