Cat’s parents had also attended society events, fundraisers and special functions, but those had been in Kalamazoo not London, and her father had been a family practice doctor, not an acclaimed neurosurgeon.They were happy together, their family.Her father and mother had met in college and had been together ever since.Cat had been born while her father was still in his residency, but her parents made it work.They were a happy unit of three, but life with her parents abruptly ended a couple weeks before one Christmas when they were killed in a car accident.The fact that it hadn’t been their fault, and the fact that she hadn’t been in the car, didn’t help.She’d been devastated and hadn’t wanted to be left in the world without them.Not at ten.Not when she hadn’t yet figured out who she was, or what she was going to be.
Cat shifted on the train seat and glanced out the window at the heavy sky and unapologetically gray day.It had been cold this morning heading to the station, and from inside the train it looked even chillier beneath the steel-colored sky.Or perhaps everything looked frigid because the fields were brown and tree branches bare.It was winter and fields should be barren, but it didn’t help her wave of anxiety.She wasn’t that good with the unknown.She didn’t like being out of her comfort zone, and the university, London, and Sarah had become her comfort zone.But she’d make this work.She needed to keep learning how to move toward change, not away.Otherwise, she’d never grow.
She would be a good childminder.Jilly, the oldest, would eventually warm up to her.She’d keep the girls busy so the doctor could finish his book.And a couple weeks in Bakewell would be interesting to a historian who loved all things Renaissance and Medieval.
It would be a great experience for all of them.
It would.
Catriona drew a quick breath.Fingers crossed, it would.
Chapter Two
Rhys had wonderedif he’d know how to recognize the new childminder when she stepped off the train, but he spotted her almost right away, what with the luggage and her wide, curious gaze sweeping the station, clearly looking for someone.She also looked American, which everyone but Americans understood.
When he lifted a hand, her expression brightened, lips curving.She seemed to recognize him, and Rhys wondered briefly if Eloisa had given her a picture or description.Either way, his new caregiver looked like someone who preferred books to an athletic field.She wasn’t very tall, with a small, narrow frame, and a pale oval face framed by light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.
He closed the distance.“Catriona?”he asked, noting how the biting wind was already putting color in her cheeks.
She held a hand out.“Yes, and you’re Dr.Harmon.”
She’d said it as a statement not a question, and he thought she might have spent two years here studying but she still sounded American too.American speech tended to move faster and was often friendlier and more forward with a sense of energy and optimism, whereas English speech left space for more subtext or even irony.
“No problem getting here?”
“None.”She smoothed a wayward tendril of hair away from her eyes.“Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Thank you for taking on my hellions.”
Her dark brow arched slightly.“Now you call them that.”
Catriona might barely reach his chest, but her personality wasn’t small.She exuded confidence, and her quick, articulate responses would make Jillian sit up and take notice.He was glad too.He loved his daughters dearly, but he hadn’t raised them to ride roughshod over others.Rhys’s father had been strict and Rhys’s earliest lessons hadn’t been learning letters or numbers, but values—honesty, self-discipline, humility, respect.But respect was the value his father said would serve Rhys best.Respect for animals, respect for women, respect for your elders, respect for your betters.These values had been ingrained in him from such a young age that it never crossed his mind his values weren’t universally shared, much less by his wife.Lyndsey didn’t like disciplining the kids.She didn’t want to be mean, and she was afraid the girls wouldn’t like her if she enforced rules.So, Rhys became the rules guy.The unfun parent.
“Are you hungry?Thirsty?We have an hour before we need to be back.I thought we could get a bite before we return,” he said, taking her suitcase from her.
Her brow furrowed as he swept her case from her.“Where are your girls?”
“They are at the cottage.Mrs.Johnson offered to stay with them while I picked you up.The girls were delighted by the opportunity to do some baking with her.”
Cat didn’t know who Mrs.Johnson was, but she understood holiday baking.It was something she did every year with her mother, and then with Grandmother Betty.“That sounds like fun.”
“Maybe for them,” he answered dryly.“But not sure how Mrs.Johnson is faring.As I mentioned on the phone, Jillian is in a difficult phase right now, and I’m not comfortable leaving her with Mrs.Johnson too long, especially when she’s doing a favor for me.”
“If we do have time, that would be wonderful.The pastry I ate on the train just made me hungrier.”
“Great.We’ll go to the car and head to a favorite tearoom of mine that is also on the way home.”
In the car park, Rhys unlocked the doors with his remote and then, after stowing her suitcases in the boot, opened the passenger door for her.“Are you familiar with Derbyshire?”
She shook her head as she settled into her seat and buckled the seatbelt.“No.Other than what I’ve read in books, and most of that was from the 1400 to 1700’s.”
“So, not very modern.”
Her lips curved and her eyes gleamed.“Not very.”
*
The tearoom wascrowded and cozy, a small sanctuary of warmth against the gray December afternoon.Condensation blurred the windows, softening the view of the cobbled high street and the cars parked crookedly by the green.The air inside smelled of spices, sugar, and all things delicious.
