Her Wickham Falls Seal

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes.

—The Song of Solomon 1:15

Chapter One (#ud2a3371a-bcdb-5407-a570-b185da247f2d)

Taryn Robinson checked her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to the closet door. She’d selected a black wool gabardine pantsuit, white silk blouse and black suede booties to meet her prospective employer, who had informed her that she had passed his background check.

It had been ages since she’d had to interview for a job; the last time was years ago when she’d walked into a school building in downtown Brooklyn. At that time, she was a twenty-two-year-old with an undergraduate degree in early elementary education, a graduate degree in reading and a teacher certification. She had sought a position in a school where she could not only teach but also make a difference.

Her idealism had come from her social worker mother, who went above and beyond for her disadvantaged clients, and it was no different for Taryn, because she saw firsthand how some children had fallen through the cracks when she was a student-teacher in a less than desirable Washington, DC, neighborhood. However, she was realistic enough to know she couldn’t change the world but only begin with one child at a time. Fast-forward nearly ten years, and she’d just resigned her position at that same school to leave all that was familiar to put down roots in a new state.

This was her third trip to Wickham Falls, the town with a population boasting less than forty-eight hundred residents and two traffic lights. The first time she’d come was to visit her former Howard University roommate, earlier that summer, and the second was to stand in as Jessica Calhoun’s maid of honor when she married Sawyer Middleton.

Now she had returned to the house to dog-sit for the newlyweds honeymooning in the Caribbean, and interview for the position as a live-in teacher to homeschool single father Aiden Gibson’s preschool daughters. Her backup plan, if Aiden decided not to hire her, was to apply for a position as a reading specialist or a permanent substitute teacher with the Johnson County school district where Jessica taught fifth grade. Taryn still could not believe that she was willing to trade the nonstop energy of New York City for the slow and easygoing pace of a small town in West Virginia.

It had taken a while for her to weigh her options on whether or not to relocate because she was at a crossroads in her life. She was thirty-two years old, soon to be a thirty-three-year-old, elementary schoolteacher living with her parents and grandmother, and the ninety-minute commute each way between Long Island and downtown Brooklyn had become emotionally and physically exhausting. There had been a time when her total daily commute was less than twenty minutes, but that all changed after she sold her condo to move in with her then boyfriend, who’d subsequently slept with her coworker and best friend.

Her mother had been devastated when Taryn revealed her boyfriend’s betrayal, while her brother went ballistic, threatening to inflict bodily harm on the man who’d cheated on his sister. Taryn had to talk both off the proverbial ledge when she made arrangements for James not to be in the apartment when she went there to pack up her clothes and personal items.

She also wanted a clean break from the school in which she taught because every day she had to be around the colleague who’d deceived her. And instead of confronting the scheming woman, she ignored her as if nothing had occurred. There was no way she was going to lower her standards and fight with a woman over a man. Her mantra was “Men are like trains. There is always one leaving the station.” It had been almost eighteen months since her last relationship ended and she was in no hurry to begin another one.

Although she would miss her parents, grandmother, brother, his wife and their children, she would not miss the traffic jams that added to her commuting woes. Sitting in her car for an interminable length of time on the Long Island Expressway, dubbed the world’s longest parking lot, would become a thing of the past.

She’d spoken to Aiden the day before and he’d given her the directions to get to his house. Taryn wasn’t certain why he wanted to homeschool his four-and five-year-old daughters, but she would find out soon enough.

She checked her hair and makeup for the last time, and then turned on her heel. Jessica’s black-and-white bichon frise–poodle mix sniffed her shoes. “I can’t play with you now, Bootsy, but Auntie Taryn promises to take you on a long walk around the neighborhood when I come back.” Aiden had set up the interview for eight that morning because he was scheduled to be at his restaurant at nine.

Walking Bootsy had become therapeutic for Taryn because it gave her time to question whether she had made the right decision to give up all she had in New York to come to a place she never knew existed before Jessica moved there. Her initial reaction to Wickham Falls was that it was too quiet, too small and much too remote. There were no malls, fast-food restaurants, bigbox stores or drugstore chains, and railroad tracks ran through the center of town. Moving to what locals called “The Falls” was akin to culture shock for Taryn, but she was willing to risk it because she needed to start over.

Taryn gathered her tote with the large envelope filled with the documents she promised to give to Aiden, left the house, locked the door behind her and got into her recently purchased late-model black Nissan Pathfinder. She’d put so many miles on her old car driving between Suffolk County in Long Island and Brooklyn that she feared breaking down when she least expected. She started the engine, programmed Aiden’s address into the GPS and backed out of the driveway and onto Porterfield Lane. Lights, wreathes and Christmas decorations adorned many of the homes along the street. Most were tastefully decorated, unlike a few of the homes in her Long Island neighborhood where homeowners competed to outdo one another with lights, music and inflatables.

It took less than four minutes for her to arrive at the address Aiden had given her. She parked in front of a large three-story white farmhouse with a wraparound porch, black shutters and matching front door. American and US Navy flags were suspended from porch columns. Taryn smiled. Aiden and her brother had something in common. Lieutenant Langdon Robinson was currently active navy.

She alighted from the SUV at the same time that the front door opened and a tall blond man sporting a military haircut walked onto the porch and waved to her. Now she had a face to go with the deep drawling voice with a distinctive Southern cadence.

* * *

Aiden’s expression did not reveal his surprise when he approached the woman with whom he’d had several conversations about possibly homeschooling his daughters. His eyes met Taryn’s large, slightly slanting light-brown eyes flecked with gold as she gave him a direct stare. If her intent was to make a good first impression, then she had made her point. Everything about her demeanor radiated confidence. And she was beautiful. Aiden found himself mesmerized by her round face and delicate features in a toffee-brown complexion.

He extended his right hand. “Aiden Gibson.”

Taryn stared at his hand for several seconds before she took it. “Taryn Robinson.”

He had lost count of the number of people he had interviewed to work for his family-owned sports bar, but suddenly Aiden felt like a gauche teenage boy meeting the girl on whom he had a crush. But then he had to remind himself that Taryn wasn’t looking for a position as a server, busser, dishwasher or cook. She had come to interview for a position where she would share a house with him and his daughters.

Aiden released her hand. “Please come inside where it’s warm.” He led her up to the porch and into the house. “Have you had breakfast?” He knew he’d surprised Taryn when she gave him a questioning look.

“No. Why?”

“I thought we’d talk over breakfast. I know I asked you to meet me at eight because I was scheduled to be at the restaurant at nine, but my brother just called and offered to take the lunch shift at the Wolf Den. That’s the name of our family’s restaurant.”

“Who watches your daughters when you’re working?”

“It’s been a merry-go-round with my mother, my sister, Esther, and occasionally my sister-in-law. My mother came up from Florida to stay with me for almost six months but went back because my stepfather was complaining that he missed her. Right now my sister babysits them whenever I work the night shift.”

Taryn followed Aiden through the parlor, living and dining rooms with furnishings she thought of as classic farmhouse with oak-topped bleached pine tables. Area rugs with geometric designs covered polished plank floors. Off-white sofas and plush love seats and chairs covered in prints and plaids in varying hues of pink and red flowers immediately caught her practiced eye. She had minored in art in college, and Taryn was always conscious of colors and symmetry.

“How often do you work nights?”

“I’m two weeks on and two weeks off.” Aiden wanted to tell Taryn it wasn’t easy being a single father, yet he was willing to make sacrifices to afford his girls a stable environment. He pointed to the trio of stools at the breakfast bar. “Please sit down and relax.”

Taryn sat and placed the tote on the floor. The kitchen was a chef’s dream with stainless-steel appliances, white bleached pine cabinets, a built-in refrigerator/freezer, eye-level oven, microwave, twin dishwashers, a breakfast bar and nook with bench seats, and an industrial stovetop and grill.

“Are your daughters here now?”

Aiden shook his head. “No. They’re in Orlando with their grandparents.” He washed his hands in the smaller of two stainless-steel sinks and then slipped on a pair of disposable gloves. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Oh, I get to choose?”

“Of course,” he countered, smiling.

Lately, there hadn’t been much for Aiden to smile about because it was as if his life was in limbo. The restaurant was down one cook and he’d had to put in more hours, which took time away from Allison and Livia. He also felt guilty that his mother, who should’ve been enjoying her retirement, was looking after his children. However, he never regretted divorcing his wife and being awarded full custody of their daughters.

Taryn rested an elbow on the granite countertop and cupped her chin on her fist. “Do you have a menu?”

His smile grew wider. So, he thought, the pretty teacher definitely has jokes. “Not available, but I’m certain I can whip up whatever you want.”

A pair of light brown eyes met and fused with his bluish-green pair. “If that’s the case, then I’d like a bagel with lox.”

“Sorry, but I happen to be out of bagels.”

Taryn scrunched up her pert nose. “Then I’d like a Southern breakfast: grits, fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast and coffee.”

I like her! Aiden mused, as he turned on the eye-level oven. It appeared she had a sense of humor, something that had been lacking with his ex-wife. Denise had claimed she had nothing to laugh or smile about because the townsfolks hated her and her family.

“That’s one order I can fill. Do you want cheese in your grits?”