He opened the door for her, and flicked on a wall switch. “Everything was redecorated by Trudy after Christina, my wife, died.”
Jessica stepped in. Had he sought change to forget what had been?
“If you knew Trudy, you’d be amazed how well it looks. Everything is so normal-looking.”
“I met Trudy,” she said, taking in the room. It was homey and clean-looking with a mahogany chest of drawers, and a small, mahogany writing desk. Near the window was a pale wood and hunter-green chair. A print of a Monet adorned the wall above the bed with its white bedskirt and a green, white and pink basket quilt. “She said that she worked for you. Is she the one who makes coffee that tastes like motor oil?”
A laugh clung to his voice. “She’s the one.”
“She takes a personal interest in you.”
Sam groaned and sent her a knowing look. “Did she ask you if your intentions were honorable about me?”
He knew the woman well. “Sort of.”
“She figures she has a right since she’s family. Christina’s aunt.”
Jessica matched his smile. “The room is lovely.”
“I’m glad you like it.” His lips curved in a pleased smile. “After you get settled, come downstairs. I’ll give you coffee.”
“I’ll come now.” Jessica trailed him out of the room. “I don’t have much to unpack.”
On her way to the kitchen, she scanned rooms, noted photographs of the girls, a piano in the corner of the living room, shelves of books, mostly mysteries. The house was cozy, welcoming.
In the kitchen, she spotted a small plant on the kitchen windowsill. School papers held with magnets clung to the refrigerator. “Annie got a gold star,” she said about one of the papers.
“She works hard for them.” His back to her, he removed two blue mugs from a mug tree. “She’s a good student.”
“I’d have guessed that.”
“Sometimes she’s six going on thirty,” he said while pouring their coffee. “She has been more affected by all the different nannies than Casey. But like I said, it’s hard finding someone. What we need most is someone who’ll stick around.”
Jessica quickly reminded him, “I explained that I’d only take this job for a little while.”
“I know. I appreciate your honesty.”
His words made her cringe. She wasn’t honest, not at all. And though she wasn’t sure how long she’d stay, she knew she couldn’t offer the girls the stability he was looking for in their nanny. Actually she had no definite plans and had given her future little thought. She’d hoped her leaving home would make her mother and grandfather believe that she was serious about not marrying Ryan Noble. She’d believed if they really cared about her, then they’d want her happy.
“Want milk or sugar?”
She shook her head. Until she was sure her family understood she meant business, she needed the job. But she realized how unfair that was to Sam and the girls. “I’ll try to stay until the end of May. Would that help you?” A month or so was the best she could give him.
“It might.” He handed her one of the mugs. “By then, some of the college kids will be home for the summer.” Cautiously he sipped his coffee. “Have you had dinner?”
His question sparked one of her own. “Do you want me to cook? Will that be part of my job?”
While she stayed by the table, he braced his backside against the kitchen counter. “I’d hoped—do you cook?”
She loved to, but at home her mother would have been aghast if she spent even a few hours in the kitchen. “Yes. Do you?”
He pulled a face. “Grudgingly. If you haven’t eaten, you’re welcome to dig in and have whatever you want.”
She wandered to the windowsill, stared at the pot of soil and the little sprout. “I’m not really hungry,” she answered, but she eyed an apple and a banana in a wicker basket of fruit in the center of the table. “Do I have other duties?”
“What about cleaning and laundry? Will you do them?”
Of course he’d suggest that. She’d told Herb that she’d done “this and that, been a sales clerk, an elderly woman’s companion, a maid.”
“If you don’t want to, it’s all right, Jess.”
She liked the way he’d said her name—smooth, easy and with a friendliness that bordered on affectionate.
“But—” A wry smile curved his mouth. “It would help me a lot. I can’t be a good daddy, a good sheriff and handle those jobs, too.” Jessica heard a trace of guilt in his voice, and quickly concluded he wouldn’t have felt that if he wasn’t so loving, so caring. “I need help. And you’re it.”
Poor man. He had no idea that he was about to rely on someone who had no idea how to operate a washing machine, a vacuum cleaner or a dishwasher. She wasn’t dumb, she had degrees in anthropology and medieval history, but just no practical life experience. “I’ll do whatever I can to make things easier for you.” She hadn’t exactly lied. She would try. That didn’t mean she would succeed.
“I’m usually home at the girls’ bedtime.”
“When is that?”
He grimaced as if uncomfortable with his answer. “When I get home. Schedules aren’t set in stone around here. Anyway I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot, but I might as well get this out in the open now. I hired one nanny who tried to take over. The girls are mine. I raise them.”
Jessica couldn’t find fault with his responsible attitude toward his daughters. “It seems you’ve done a great job.”
“Thanks. But I’ve been permissive while trying to fill the gap left by the absence of their mother, and as you probably noticed, their rooms look like toy stores. When my wife died, the town became our family. Women brought over dinner every night, gifts were given to the girls. Everyone spoiled them—us,” he said on a laugh. “Until I said, ‘no more.”’
Looking down, he shoved back his shirt cuff and eyed his watch. “I have to leave. I asked one of my deputies to stay late so I could be here and get you settled in.”
Jessica listened and nodded while he discussed salary and days off.
“Will you be okay?” he questioned as he lifted the jacket to his uniform from the back of a kitchen chair.
She nodded again. “Oh, we’ll be fine.” She really believed that. She watched him leave the room, then snagged an apple. What she wanted most was quiet time to enjoy her sudden good luck.
Sam kept thinking about them. Though not worried, he wondered if he was nuts. He was trusting her with his children and he hardly knew her.
All he knew about her, he’d learned from Cory. Thunder Lake’s newest resident was twenty-six. Born in Nevada. Where? Cory hadn’t known. Somewhere near Reno, she thought. Jess never mentioned family, claimed she had no brothers or sisters.
According to Cory, among the tidbits of information Jess had told her, she jogged every morning. She loved pecan pie. Cory had thought some man had broken her heart. Nothing revealed why she’d come to Thunder Lake. Since she’d told no one, he figured she was low on trust.
But he’d get answers. A patient man, he was willing to wait awhile. When working on the police force in Las Vegas, he’d once kept a file open long after his captain had told him to consider the case unsolved.
He didn’t give up on anything easily. He would learn what her story was. In the meantime,