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Pining For You: Jasper Falls Page 4
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Drawing in a deep breath, her hands tightened around the letter. “I think I’ll take the offer. I can take the winter class online, like you said.”
“Good. I think that’s the right choice. And you can always look at schools closer to home in the future if it’s the distance that scares you.”
She wasn’t afraid of leaving Jasper Falls. She was afraid of letting down her family. Her parents depended on her help. It wasn’t a hardship for her to stick around, especially since she pitched in and mostly supported herself, but it might be a hardship for them if she left.
“I think I’m better off commuting to college anyway—wherever I end up going.”
“You’ve got plenty of time to make and change your mind. Trust me. If anyone knows about changing paths, it’s me.” Colin stepped fully onto the porch and pocketed his keys, but paused to look her in the eye. “And tell your parents, Sky. They’ll be proud of you.”
“I will. Thanks, Uncle Colin.”
“Any time.”
2
The shift from Thanksgiving to the Christmas season rolled into Jasper Falls with the subtlety of a ballistic sneeze. For weeks, everything had been pumpkin spiced and blazing autumnal aesthetics, but the second the turkey was served—Augustus was alive and well—fall colors faded to silver and gold, and the town glistened with tinsel, twinkle lights, and holly.
The first snow hadn’t arrived yet, but the blue sky wore a gray, gossamer blanket of clouds and the air tasted metallic with cold. Red noses and shivering faces filled the overcast streets of Jasper Falls. In a town where winters were long and snow often reached shoulders, the population bustled about like bears preparing to hibernate through a long winter.
Painted store windows were dressed in greens and reds while locals wired streetlamps and truck grills with evergreen wreathes. The scent of crackling leaves was gone, and cinnamon, mulberry, and balsam reigned the new three kings.
Skylar took her foot off the brake, slowly maneuvering through the bustling foot traffic crossing Main Street with their arms weighted by packages and some men dragging tightly wrapped pine trees. Shoppers were busy finding those early post-Thanksgiving sales.
Breathing in the scent of oregano and garlic steaming from the brick oven pizza warming the seat to her right, she smiled and turned up the radio. The Waitresses belted out the upbeat lyrics to “Christmas Wrapping”, and she sang along, making up the words she didn’t know and always messing up that one line about the cranberries.
Skylar loved this time of year. She loved the excuse to be a little extra. The festive winter accessories—because a girl could never own too many scarves—brought her a deep, inexplicable joy that validated Christmas was in fact her favorite season.
She adored every little detail—the caroling, the baking, the compulsive, almost predatory, shopping and sale hunting, the scent of pine needles, the kisses under the mistletoe, the life-sized nativity, the cozy fires, the bulky socks, the layers upon layers of clothing, the hot cocoa, and oh, how she loved the magical mornings of a freshly fallen snow. But most of all, she loved watching the children.
Christmas carols played as candles glinted in windows. Goodwill and charity abounded all around. The holiday season was such a magical time of year. It enriched her spirit and painted the world with a picturesque lens.
As she glanced at the hay-stuffed manger in front of the church, she smiled. Pair that with Santa’s rosy cheeks and a spiced glass of eggnog, and she was in heaven.
She couldn’t wait to see all her younger cousins sit on Santa’s lap this year and—
“What the hell?” Her brow creased as a tiny little body stood on a park bench, stretching to reach a red balloon tangled in a bare tree. Where were her parents? And where was her coat?
Skylar slowed her car and scanned the area for a possible chaperone to the small girl but didn’t see any adults nearby. Hitting her turn signal, she carefully pulled over and rolled down her window.
“Careful,” she called and the little girl flinched, a guilty look taking over her curious expression. Skylar hadn’t meant to startle her. “Is your mommy or daddy around?”
The child wrung her hands nervously. “I’m not a’posed to talk to strangers.”
She grinned. Smart kid. “My name’s Skylar. Is that your balloon?”
She nodded and shivered.
“Would you like me to help you get it down?”
As if it just occurred to the child that she was alone, she looked around and her eyes welled with tears.
“Oh, don’t cry.” Skylar shut off the car and climbed out. “I’ll help you.” Stepping onto the bench, she caught the string of the balloon and pulled it down. “How about we tie this to your wrist so you don’t lose it again.”
“Okay.” The girl’s little fingers were freezing.
“I’m a little warm.” Unraveling her scarf, she held it out to the child. “Can you hold this for me?”
The girl nodded and Skylar wrapped the wool around her narrow shoulders, tying it like a shawl. Her full cheeks wore a rosy blush and a smudge of whatever she’d had for lunch stuck in the corner of her full lips. As she chattered her teeth, the scent of peanut butter and jelly tickled Skylar’s nose.
“Now, where did you leave your mommy?”
The girl scrunched up her face in the most adorable fashion. Her dark brown eyes moved like pools of chocolate, and her red nose sniffled against the cold. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, but her mismatched clothing was nice, pressed, and top of the line.
“My mom doesn’t live here.”
“Oh. How about your dad?”
“He’s at the bank talking to people. He always talks.”
Skylar stood from where she’d been crouching and stared down the block. Sure enough, there was a huddle of people outside of the bank. “What do you say we walk back that way and try to find him?”
“Okay.”
She held out a hand and five tiny, chilled fingers curled around hers. She’d traveled quite a way from the bank, and no one seemed to have noticed she’d gone missing.
“Do you see your dad?”
The girl nodded. “He’s wearing a red tie.”
“Mayor Buchanan is your father?”
“That’s not his name.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s Daddy.”
Such precociousness earned a smirk. “Well, let’s go say hello to Daddy.”
Three men and two women surrounded the mayor on the sidewalk, each one speaking of interests in the town. He appeared concerned but bored. Only when he spotted Skylar approaching with his daughter and her red balloon, did his expression come alive.
“Addison?” He glanced around as if just noticing she’d wandered off. “Where were you?”
“My b’loon got away, but Skylar helped me find it.”
The group of constituents acknowledged the child, but continued voicing their concerns. The mayor stepped aside and crouched low, doing a quick inspection of his daughter’s person.
Under the cowlick of a perfectly manicured head of thick hair, his brow furrowed and his fingers traced the fringe of Skylar’s scarf she’d wrapped around the girl. “Where’s your jacket?”
The citizens paused but seemed eager to get an answer. However, the mayor’s distraction seemed to halt any promises of future change.
Mr. Simms, a rotund man in a worn, quilted flannel frowned, obviously wanting to continue communicating his personal needs to the mayor. “So, should I contact your office?”
Mayor Buchanan removed a silk square from his pocket and wiped the child’s nose. “Yes, call the office and my assistant will help you, Mr. Simms.” Brushing a hand over his daughter’s hair, he said, “What have I told you about wandering off?”
“But my b’loon—”
“We can always get you another balloon. There’s only one of you.” Taking her hand in a secure grip, he stood and faced Skylar. “Thank you for returning her.”r />
The constituents dispersed and the mayor no longer appeared as cool and collected as he had a moment ago. Dragging a hand through his neatly combed hair, he mussed his part, looking very much like he could use a drink.
“It’s really no problem.”
“I’m usually more aware. And Addison is usually at home with her nanny, but she… Well, it’s a long story. Suffice it to say, I’m without childcare at the moment, something about long hours and—never mind. You don’t want to hear the autobiography of a single dad.”
She smiled, having enough relatives to know what a challenge child-rearing could be. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“Do you have kids?”
“Me? No. But I have lots of siblings and little cousins. Last I counted, I believe there were more than twenty.” And that was just on her mom’s side. Eventually, her Marcelli aunts on her dad’s side would get married and have kids, too.
“Twenty?” His green eyes widened. “Siblings?”
“No, cousins. Only five of them are my siblings. But if you count second cousins, it’s more like forty.”
“I assume you’re the oldest.”
“Second, actually. My brother, Frankie, is a year older. We’re Irish twins.”
“Irish twins?” With his straight nose and strong jaw, he looked especially handsome when he frowned, sort of like authority gone cock-eyed.
“Born within a year of each other. It’s a common problem in my family.”
It was a little embarrassing during her teenager years when her mom waddled around pregnant, and Skylar’s friends assumed her parents spent all their free time humping like bunnies. But she supposed it was better than having parents that fought and broke up in divorce. Despite the rampant dysfunction of her family, most of her relatives were insanely in love with their spouses.
“That’s a lot of kids.”
She smiled and shrugged. “I come from two big families.”
“No wonder you’re good with children.”
“I hope so. It’s what I went to school for.”
Sharp interest flashed in his jade eyes. “You’re a teacher?”
“Almost. I just earned my associate’s degree in early childhood.” Technically, finals were still being graded, but she was confident she passed.
“Really? And what are you doing now?”
“Daddy, I gotta tinkle.” Addison tugged at her father’s arm and he started walking.
Being that they were in the midst of a conversation, Skylar walked with them. “Right now, I’m registered to start a class online at Shippensburg and working at my grandfather’s restaurant.”
“In town?”
She pointed down the road to Vincenzo’s. “The pizza shop.”
“You’re a Marcelli?”
She nodded. “And my mom’s a McCullough.”
Oddly, he didn’t seem concerned with the McCullough side of her family, which most people took great interest in, since they made up a good portion of the town’s population.
His frown pinched his brow and his eyes moved as if he were solving a math problem in his head. “Your grandfather ran against me in the election.”
“I remember.”
The mayor didn’t appear apologetic or boastful as he said, “He ran a good campaign.”
“Not as good as you, though.” She gave him a cheeky smile.
“No.” He smirked, his stare lingering on her face as he studied her for a moment.
His attention made her very aware of her appearance and she felt the urge to escape such scrutiny, but also a slight urge to pose under his inspection. “I should probably get—”
“How attached are you to working for him?”
The balloon connected to Addison’s wrist bopped him in the head, scuffing against his neatly styled hair, and he casually swept it away.
It was her turn to frown. “At the restaurant?” She shrugged. “It’s a job.”
“Would you be interested in something more related to your field?”
Her steps slowed. One busy single dad plus one curious under-clothed child equaled negative one nanny. “That depends.” What was he asking?
“On?”
They reached Town Hall and stopped walking. Skylar hesitated. “What exactly are you offering?”
“I could ask you the same.” Addison tugged on his arm and he glanced down but didn’t let go. “I’m desperate. She needs someone to watch over her while I’m at work. What do you need to know to consider the position?”
“The pay and why your last nanny quit.”
Addison broke away from his grip and tugged open the door. Without breaking eye contact, he tracked his daughter’s steps and called over his shoulder, “Go right to my office, Addison.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
The little girl disappeared with her balloon and his aura shifted into something more serious and slightly intimidating. Despite seeming distracted before, now that Skylar had his full focus she understood this man was the resolute sort, single-minded and determined and not used to being told no.
“I can promise the pay will be substantially more than you’re making at a pizza place. And the last nanny left because I work a lot of late hours. I need someone there all the time, not to work but to be available—a governess. It’s a campaign year, so my schedule will only get busier. I don’t want to worry if I’m held up at a fundraiser or running late after a board meeting. I need someone there to look after Addison, prepare meals, enrich her mind, and handle the usual daily responsibilities she requires to be well cared for. And it has to be someone dependable because I can’t afford the time it takes to keep replacing nannies every few weeks.”
“You want a live in?” And why was the turnover so high? Did it really have to do with the hours he kept or could that sweet little girl possibly be hiding a demon inside?
“For now, I think that’s best.” He eyed her carefully. “Interested?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Teachers need background checks, so I can assume you’re not a criminal. You’re educated in the right department, and my daughter seemed to trust you. Plus, I’m desperate. It’s not fair to drag Addison into my stuffy office day after day when she should be playing and exploring like a regular kid.”
He glanced up the road where the mayor’s mansion towered. The historic, Georgian style house gleamed against the overcast sky. “I’m rarely home and there is an entire wing of the house that goes unused most days. I promise you would have plenty of space and there are more than enough rooms you could convert for studying. I assume you’re virtual.”
Her head was spinning. “Yes. For now.”
Skylar considered the lack of privacy at her home. She’d been sharing a bedroom with Hannah since they were babies. There was never a bathroom available when she needed one and hot water was on a rotation schedule. Plus, if the pay was actually as substantial as he made it sound, she might be able to afford more classes. They would be online, of course, because the job would be here, but still…
“How much are we actually talking?”
“Name your price.”
Did she have a price? She was currently bringing home about three hundred dollars a week. If she took the job, he’d be paying for her living expenses. That would be one less mouth for her mom and dad to feed, one less lightbulb on at night, one less shower a day. Should she deduct those expenses from her rate?
God, she sucked at negotiating for herself.
Unsure how to price such a job, she threw the ball back in his court. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re comfortable spending?”
“I’m willing to offer thirty thousand, but that’s negotiable.”
Her eyes bulged. “Thirty thousand dollars?”
“That’s a fairly low childcare salary, I believe.”
She wasn’t used to having credentials, which she supposed she now had. Huh, being an adult was pretty cool.
“Y—yes, that’s a decent starting salary.” S
he’d be a fool to turn him down. Was this seriously happening to her? She cleared her throat and tried to act professional. “How long would the position last?”
“Addison just turned four. She can’t start kindergarten for two years due to her birthday being in late fall. She’ll need a governess until then.”
Skylar smiled at the term governess, as it filled her head with visions of Julie Andrews twirling down a hill in the Alps and making clothing from curtains. Then her thoughts sidetracked to Jane Eyre and she catalogued how handsome her new boss was.
Stop that!
She glanced away to hide her blush. “I’ll have to let my grandfather know.”
“Of course.”
“And I’ll need some time to pack and—”
“Whatever you need. If you require a moving company, I can arrange that. Like I said, I’m desperate.”
She considered her half of the bedroom and the few items she owned. She really only needed to pack clothes and a few personal items. Maybe a couple books from her shelf. “I don’t think I’ll need a truck. I don’t have much.”
A woman in her thirties with blonde hair pushed open the door and popped her head out. “Rhett, you have a meeting with the union reps in five minutes, and Addison wants to know if she can have a snack.” She briefly glanced at Skylar, giving her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and skipping any hello.
Mayor Buchanan sighed, appearing frazzled once more. “I’ll be right there.” His focus returned to Skylar, but he still spoke to the woman at the door. “The file on the refinery proposal is in my briefcase. Make three copies of the letter from the foreman and brew a fresh pot of coffee. Addison can have a banana.” He seemed to have a knack for focusing on multiple problems at once. “When can you start?”
Realizing he’d turned to conversation back to her, Skylar mentally stumbled through her schedule. “Tomorrow?”
“Perfect. Erin will go over the details with you.”
The woman—supposedly Erin—waited, holding open the door to Town Hall, and the mayor stepped over the threshold. “Thank you, Ms. Marcelli.”