“I’ve sent it to some of the resorts in Colorado, Washington, and Alaska since those states have the most avalanche fatalities. They’ve agreed to give me some feedback on it.” She yawned. “I’m jetlagged, so I’m going to bed early. Kiss that sweet Grace for me.”
Carlisle heaved out a breath. “I will.”
“Oh, no.” Gretchen turned to face him. “What’s wrong with your daughter?”
He explained about having had to find a new nanny.
“And Grace doesn’t like her?”
“Not in the least, despite the woman’s excellent credentials and being extremely organized.”
“But is she fun?” Gretchen glanced at a picture on the wall of her with her two children and then back at him with one brow arched.
“I need someone responsible and orderly,” Carlisle said, trying to dodge the question.
“Comeon. Grace isfour. Besides structure, she needs to have fun.” Gretchen gave his arm another pat. “One more thing before I forget.”
Watching him with a look which had become familiar of late. More than once, she’d dropped hints it was time he moved on, to date again. He really hoped she wouldn’t start up on that again.
“Every Christmas season, the Chamber of Commerce puts on a Christmas ball. It’s a great opportunity to meet the other business owners and members of the community. It’s kind of a big deal to business owners, and I never miss it. I think it’s important that you attend too.” She put on a look reminiscent of the one which had made her famous and won her an Oscar for best supporting actress—compassionate yet firm. “Youwillbring a plus-one, Carlisle, and it can’t be Grace.”
Yawning, Gretchen left the room.
A social function. Carlisle groaned. And he’d have to invite someone to attend with him?
Struggling to fight off his own weariness, he gathered his things and put them into his briefcase. A quick glance out the window showed that it’d begun to snow again. If he and Cressy hadn’t spent so much time skiing in various places around the world, he’d have struggled with the driving in Huckleberry Falls.
When he stepped outside of the office building, he was glad he’d shifted to his Land Rover. He wondered if his daughter would already be in bed. He’d hoped to get back to their lodgings before she did, but his meeting had gone on longer than expected. And Miss Kirk was a firm disciplinarian. He’d already received more than one mild lecture from her about being too lax with Grace.
When Carlisle trudged into the lodging house, one of the owners, Lizbeth, sat chatting with guests around the fireplace.
“Ah, Mr. Wyndham. You look frozen,” she said. “Would you care to join us for a cup of tea or hot chocolate?”
He would have liked nothing better than to have accepted. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass this time. I’m hoping to see my daughter before she falls asleep.” After nodding to Lizbeth and her guests, he climbed the stairs.
The Williams had given him one end of a wing, so the entrances to their three rooms opened near each other. Lizbeth and Bart had taken to Grace. She frequently spent time in the kitchen, coloring while Lizbeth cooked. Or, if the older woman was baking, he would find Grace with an apron on and flour up to her elbows. He hadn’t yet decided if he wanted to rent or buy a home for their long stay here. Once he did, it would be a shame that his daughter would miss out on opportunities to spend time with the grandmotherly woman.
He left his briefcase and overcoat in his bedroom and eased open the connecting door into his daughter’s room. Still awake, she sat up and held up her arms.
“Papa!”
A sense of peace settled over Carlisle, and his heart swelled. He sat on the edge of Grace’s bed and lifted her onto his lap. She looked so like her mother.
“I wanted to help Alex put his Lego city together, but Miss Monster made me leave before I could even ask,” Grace said and launched into a long list of grievances.
Startled into silence at the venom in his young daughter’s voice, Carlisle thought back to what Gretchen had said earlier. Perhaps, in his desire to provide structure and stability, he’d chosen the wrong caregiver. What was he to do now?
“Miss Monster?” he asked weakly. His daughter had been a happy, lighthearted child until the death of her mother. Only since Grace had first spoken of the boy Alex had Carlisle seen hints of the old Grace again. “Wherever did you come up with a name like that for Miss Kirk? It’s not very kind.”
“Alex called her that. But it fits, Papa. Please don’t make her be my nanny.” Grace put her palms together as though in prayerful supplication. “Please. I could just go to Duckies like Alex. He doesn’t have a nanny.”
The little boy also had a mother, though Carlisle wouldn’t raise that issue.
“I doubt he has a nanny, but he also has two grandmothers who live in the area. I’m sure when his mother needs to go out for the evening, one of those ladies would tend him.”
“He said I could stay with his Grammy when Duckies is closed.”
“Grace,” he began, but she covered his mouth with her small hands.
