by Fiona Brand
“Hopefully, I won’t be gone any more than two months, and I know of someone who could replace me.”
He doubted anyone would be able to replace Bonnie. “Who?”
“A woman I met a couple of months ago at church. She recently moved to the area and she and I have become good friends.”
He nodded as he walked over to the table to sit down and eat. “Where is she from?”
“Charleston.”
He chuckled. “Good grief. Don’t tell me we have another Southerner invading these parts. Bella is enough.”
Bella was married to his friend Jason Westmoreland. Everyone thought of her as a real Southern belle. From the time she’d arrived in Denver it had been obvious that she was a woman of refinement. It didn’t take long for word to spread that she was the daughter of a wealthy business tycoon in Savannah, Georgia. Although Bella had adjusted well, at times she still looked out of place amidst the bunch of roughnecks in these parts.
Bonnie placed a small salad near his sandwich. “Yes, another Southerner.” She then poured iced tea into his glass.
He looked up. “Thanks. And what makes you think she will be good with Ciara?”
“Because she taught prekindergarten for a few years and before that, she worked with younger babies in a nursery at a hospital in Charleston. She’s had us over for tea several times. I always take Ciara with me and the two of them hit it off. You of all people know how Ciara can be.”
Yes, he knew. If his niece liked you, then she liked you. If she didn’t, she didn’t. And she normally didn’t take well to strangers. “What makes you think she would be interested in keeping Ciara until you return?”
“Because I asked her,” Bonnie said with excitement in her voice. “I didn’t want to leave you with no one at all, and then not with just anyone.”
He appreciated that. “When can I meet her, to see if she’ll be a good fit?”
“I invited her to lunch.”
Pete paused from biting into his sandwich. “Today?”
Bonnie smiled. “Yes, today. The sooner you can meet her, the better. I would worry sick the entire time I’m in Dallas if you and Ciara weren’t taken care of properly.”
At that moment the doorbell sounded. “That’s probably her,” Bonnie said, smiling, as she swiftly left the kitchen.
Pete began eating his sandwich, curious about the woman Bonnie was recommending. He figured she would be around Bonnie’s age, which meant she could probably cook. Having home-cooked Southern dishes once in a while was a nice thought.
“Pete, I’d like you to meet Myra Hollister. Myra, this is Sheriff Peterson Higgins.”
Placing his glass down on the table, Pete stood and turned to offer his hand to the woman, then froze. Standing in the middle of his kitchen beside Bonnie was the most gorgeous woman he’d seen in a while. A long while. And she was young, probably no more than twenty-two or twenty-three. She had a petite figure and was no more than five-three. She appeared even shorter than that when standing across from his six-three height.
She had skin the color of rich mocha and features so striking he felt like he’d been struck in all parts of his body. Perfect hazel eyes stared back at him and a smile curved a pair of delectable lips. Fluffy dark brown bangs swept across her forehead and a mass of curly hair fell past her shoulders. When he finally moved his gaze from her face it was to check out the legs beneath her dress. They were as gorgeous as the rest of her.
He couldn’t ignore the spike of heat that caught him low in the gut. The power of her femininity surrounded him, actually made his heart skip a couple of beats. He wanted to groan in protest.
“It’s nice meeting you, Sheriff Higgins. I’ve heard a lot of wonderful things about you,” the woman said, offering him her hand. Her Southern accent was just as perceptible as Bella’s.
“Thanks,” Pete replied, fighting back a curse. The moment their hands had touched, a hard hum of lust had rushed through his veins.
Bonnie wanted him to hire this woman as a live-in nanny? She had to be kidding. There was no way he could do that, even on a temporary basis. This was the first woman he’d been attracted to since Ellen.
That placed him in one hell of a dilemma.
* * *
Myra Hollister tried hiding her excitement at possibly being hired as Ciara’s nanny. She adored the precious little girl she’d gotten to know. And when Bonnie mentioned her need for a replacement, Myra had been glad to help. It would certainly solve some of her own problems for a while.
First off, she would get a salary, which meant she wouldn’t have to touch her savings. And since her lease ended next month, moving in here was great, too. Hopefully without her own address, her brother wouldn’t be able to find her. The latter was the most important thing and would definitely buy her the time she needed before returning to Charleston for a face-off with Baron.
“How old are you?”
Sheriff Higgins’s question reeled her concentration back in. “I’m twenty-four but will be turning twenty-five on Christmas Day.”
Myra studied his very handsome features, which she’d noticed the moment she’d walked in. She figured he was either thirty-five or thirty-six, which would put him at Baron’s age. She’d encountered good-looking older men before. Her brother’s friends were all eye candy and, like him, they were all womanizers who thought women were good for only one thing. Long ago she figured it must be an age thing. Even Baron thought that way and he’d been married to Cleo almost four years. She loved her sister-in-law and regretted how Baron and his mother, Charlene, were treating her. Myra was convinced Cleo would have left Baron long ago, but he swore he would fight her for custody of the kids if she left him.
Pushing thoughts of Baron from her mind, Myra placed her concentration back on the man standing in front of her. He had chestnut-colored skin, broad shoulders and long legs that looked good in his pants.
He also had a gorgeous pair of dark brown eyes that seemed to be staring at her in disapproval. Why? Although this was what she considered an informal interview, she had dressed appropriately. She was wearing one of her church dresses with heels.
And why had he asked about her age? Hadn’t Miss Bonnie given him a rundown of her credentials and experience? What was the issue? She could tell by the frown on his face that there was one.
Automatically, she slid her hands to the back of her hair and fluffed it away from her neck, something she did whenever she was nervous. And she shouldn’t be feeling nervous, not when she was qualified for the job. If truth be told, probably overqualified.
“You’re a lot younger than I thought you would be,” he finally said, after staring her down. “Sorry, but I don’t think you’ll work out.”
Myra blinked. He didn’t think she would work out?
She was being dismissed because of her age? Maybe now was the time to remind him that there were such things as discrimination laws, but then she figured that would only make the situation worse. She glanced over at Miss Bonnie, who was giving the sheriff a shocked stare.
Deciding to reassure him, because she truly needed the job, she said, “I don’t consider myself too young to care for your niece, Sheriff Higgins. I’ve worked at a day care and also in the nursery at the hospital. And once I finish my thesis, I’ll have my PhD in child psychology.”
If Myra thought that information would impress him, then she was wrong. He remained expressionless when he said, “All that’s nice, but I regret you wasted your time coming here today.”
Although she didn’t understand what was going on, all she could do was take the man at his word. Besides, he might think of her as young, but she was strong. Only a strong woman could have put up with her brother’s foolishness for the past six months and not have broken. Fighting back the anger she felt, she said, as politely as she could, “I regret wasting my time coming here today, as well. Good
day, Sheriff.”
Giving Miss Bonnie an appreciative smile, she added, “I can see my way to the door.” Then Myra turned and walked out of the kitchen.
* * *
“Would you like to tell me what that was about, Peterson?”
It wasn’t the tone of Bonnie’s voice alone that let Pete know she was upset with him. She never called him Peterson. “I stated it already and there’s nothing more to tell. I thought the woman you were recommending was an older woman, closer to your age. She’s way too young,” he said, before sitting back down to the table to resume eating his lunch.
“Too young? For heaven’s sake, she’s nearly twenty-five. Women her age are having babies every day. How can you think she’s too young when you’ve gotten Charity Maples to babysit for you a few times and she’s only seventeen?”
He shrugged. “The key word is babysit. I don’t need a young nanny working for me. Have you forgotten I need a live-in nanny?”
“At the moment what I think you need is your head examined. Myra Hollister is more than qualified to be a nanny, and what’s the problem with her living here while taking care of Ciara?”
He didn’t say anything and then he wished he had come up with something. If he had, Bonnie might not have slung out her next accusation. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid that a young beautiful woman will remind you to live again.”
He glanced over at her, which wasn’t hard to do since she’d come to stand by the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am living.”
“No, you’re not—you’re breathing. I, more than anyone, know that a part of you stopped living the day Ellen died. It’s been twelve years, Pete.”
Every muscle in Pete’s body tensed. He, of all people, knew just how many years it had been. A man would not forget the day his fiancée died when she was thrown from the horse she’d been riding. Pete doubted he would ever forget that day for as long as he lived.
A man had come into the dress shop where she worked a month earlier and tried flirting with her. She’d told him she wasn’t interested and was engaged to be married. He had begun stalking her and Ellen hadn’t told Pete anything. Then the man had intentionally thrown a firecracker to spook her horse. At least he’d been arrested and was still serving time for Ellen’s death.
“I know how long it’s been, Bonnie. What’s your point? You act as if I don’t date.”
“Yes, you date, though rarely.”
She was right. However, his excuse was a good one. He was too busy. Besides, some women saw a man in a uniform as a trophy to win and he didn’t intend to be a prize in any contest. He sighed as he shifted his gaze from Bonnie to the window.
Bonnie moved around the table to stand by him, intentionally blocking his view. She stood there, a force to be reckoned with, her hands on her hips, giving him that infamous Bonnie McCray glare.
“You’ve just dismissed your best prospect for a nanny. I didn’t even know about that thesis for her PhD. That makes her more than qualified.”
He drew in a deep breath. “What do you even know about her?”
“She’s living in Denver temporarily, trying to deal with grief. Her parents died a few months ago while vacationing in Morocco. The tour helicopter crashed.”
“That’s tragic,” he said, shaking his head, feeling bad for the woman. Losing both parents at the same time had to be hard on a person. He recalled years ago when the same thing had happened to his best friends, Derringer and Riley Westmoreland. The cousins had lost both sets of parents the same day in an airplane accident. He recalled how devastating that had been.
“Yes, it was tragic,” Bonnie was saying. “Her family owns a huge corporation in Charleston, but she’s not in the family business or anything.”
“How did she decide on Denver?” he asked,
“Someone she knows from college owns a house here and she’s leasing it for six months.”
He nodded. “Well, I wish her the best, but like I said, she’s too young to stay here. I’m sure there are other women out there. An older woman I can hire to live here as a nanny.”
“Myra could live here as Ciara’s nanny, Pete. Don’t think I don’t know why you’re behaving the way you are. I’ve got eyes. I knew the moment she walked into the room that you were attracted to her.”
He wouldn’t bother denying anything because he’d learned long ago that Bonnie didn’t miss a thing. “And what if I am? I’ve been attracted to women before.”
“Yes, and the few you’ve dated were women you deemed safe. For some reason you’re afraid if a pretty young woman like Myra got underfoot that she might thaw your frozen heart.”
First she accuses him of breathing instead of living and now she’s saying he has a frozen heart.
His heart wasn’t frozen. He just wore a thick protective shield around it. Pete refused to ever go through the pain he’d felt when he lost Ellen. Pain that could still creep up on him even now, twelve years later. Had Ellen not died, they would be married by now with a bunch of kids and living in this very house where he’d been born. They would be happy, just as they’d been that day when they’d been sixteen and had decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend forever.
Forever...
For him, forever was still going on. It hadn’t died the day Ellen had.
“Have you forgotten about that dream you shared with me, Pete?”
He didn’t have to wonder what dream she was talking about. “What does that dream have to do with anything?”
She sat down in the chair beside his. “Because in that dream you said your hands had been tied and Ellen was untying them for you. Not only did she untie them but then she tried to push you out some door.”
A part of him now wished he hadn’t shared any details about that dream with Bonnie. But he had done so mainly because it had bothered him to the point where he’d awakened in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He’d gotten up to go into the kitchen, needing something to drink and found Bonnie in the living room, sitting in the chair, rocking Ciara back to sleep. While downing a glass of lemonade, he had told Bonnie about his dream and she’d listened and said nothing.
It had been the next morning when she’d told him what she thought the dream meant. Ellen was trying to release him, free him from all the plans they’d made together. She wanted him to enjoy life. To live and love again. To do more than just breathe.
Pete sighed deeply. He hadn’t accepted Bonnie’s interpretation of the dream then and he wouldn’t accept it now. “I don’t want to talk about that dream, Bonnie.”
“Fine, Pete. But you need to accept that I’m leaving and your niece needs a nanny. I honestly don’t think you’re going to find another person more qualified than Myra Hollister, especially not in two weeks.”
He slid back his chair to stand. “I intend to do just that, Bonnie. I’m determined to find someone more qualified.”
He had to.
Copyright © 2019 by Brenda Streater Jackson
ISBN-13: 9781488046995
Twin Scandals
Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Gillibrand
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