He’s a widower who’s forgotten how to have fun.
Then we’ll need to change that! Love you. Bye.
Merry had to bite back a smile. Her mother was a firm believer that life should be joyful. The wonderful memories she’d helped to create as a family had given them both a great deal of comfort after the accident. If Mom had decided it was time to help Carlisle Wyndham find joy again, there was no way he could avoid it.
If anyone could help that little family, it was Linda Jackson. The relationship Grace had with her father looked to be a happy one, though Merry had gotten the impression the child was getting impatient with her father’s focus on work. Maybe because it was something relatively new? That was a good sign. It meant there’d probably been a good relationship there before the family tragedy.
How long ago had the late Mrs. Wyndham passed away? If it had happened recently, they were still grieving deeply and adjusting to their loss.
Merry thought she understood what Carlisle and his darling daughter must be going through. It was a journey she and her mother had made together, and their shared grief had brought them even closer. Merry had also found a lot of unexpected support from her clients.
Hairstylists, she’d discovered early on, were a lot like bartenders and counselors. People often opened up to them about things they might not normally talk about. She hadn’t paid attention to how many clients were widows until she’d become one. The confidences they’d shared with her had often contrasted with the public faces her clients wore. It had taught Merry to look more closely at people.
Her thoughts went back to the evening making the scarecrows. She’d found herself thinking about Carlisle a lot since that night. Once he’d removed his fancy coat and gotten some straw in his hair with the children, he’d lightened up. The formal businessman had disappeared and the loving father had come out to play. When he’d laughed at the children’s antics, the seriousness had disappeared, and his dark good looks had shone.
And what good looks.
Her gave a lurch. She gave a mental groan, blaming Trish for Merry’s thinking about him all the time. The poor man. She bet there were lots of women around town who’d love to chase after him. Probably were. Maybe that’s where his reserve came from.
And Trish was just wrong. Besides the fact that Carlisle Wyndham was a handsome man still grieving for his late wife, he did not plan on staying in Huckleberry Falls long term. There was no point in Merry thinking about him as anything more than the father of her son’s friend. Period.
A little while later, though, when she dropped off Alex at the daycare, she caught herself giving the lobby a surreptitious glance anyway. Since Merry didn’t begin work until nine, and a lot of businesses opened at eight, it was unlikely he’d have been there anyway.
“Give me a hug,” she called to her son as he raced to where the children hung up their coats.
Alex turned around and threw himself into her arms. He looked over her shoulder and cried, “Grace is here.” He let her go and ran to his friend.
Merry’s heart did that irritating flip-flop again when she saw Carlisle. She’d forgotten how much she liked the smell of his aftershave. Dang that dream last night. She pushed the useless memory aside.
What she needed to think about was whether or not to say anything about his new daycare arrangements. Merry decided against it. If he were anything like her, he wouldn’t appreciate people talking about him behind his back.
“Good morning, Grace,” she said instead, but the little girl and Alex were talking to each other so fast, they seemed oblivious to the surrounding adults.
“Grace,” her father said, his voice soft but firm, and his daughter turned to face them. He said, “Manners.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she curtsied. “I beg your pardon.”
Merry blinked. Was it common to teach four-year-old girls to curtsy in England?
“It’s all good,” Merry said with a shrug.
“Give me a hug, and you and Alex may go.” Grace’s father winked at his daughter. When he bent down to embrace her, he said softly, “One must never forget how to behave ...”
“Because one never knows when Grandpapa may be watching.”
“Exactly.” He kissed the top of her head, and she hurried off with Alex.
Carlisle turned to Merry. “I also apologize for her lapse. You Americans are so much more casual, and she’s getting quite good at it. I must make sure she doesn’t forget while we’re here.”
“Or your father won’t be pleased?”
“My grandfather, actually. He raised me, and he has old-fashioned ideas about such things. When one travels in many different circles, one must be prepared to fit in.”
Merry wondered what expectations Carlisle had been raised with. She’d had friends from England before, and they weren’t nearly so formal about everything. His reserve might come from having been raised by a grandfather who’d in turn been raised in a bygone era. Maybe it wasn’t Carlisle trying to put on the stereotypical stiff upper lip attitude Merry had read about. Had the older man taught Carlisle how to appear unapproachable? Or was it a natural shyness around unfamiliar people?
“She’s still so young, though,” Merry said. “When does she turn five?”
“Christmas Eve.” Carlisle met her gaze, his own soft and thoughtful. “Like you, she was a Christmas gift. Your first name is Merry; Grace’s middle name is Angelica.”
