gave the impression of being uptight and humorless. But she’d barely met him and he might be a barrel of laughs once he had a decent night’s sleep. That would be nice—she didn’t do well with people who couldn’t laugh.
Luckily, she had a sense of humor to keep her going. Not that “lucky” was the way her professor father would have described it when she’d been eight years old and had shown up at a faculty reception dressed as Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt. It had seemed appropriate—after all, the older profs lapsed into Greek and Latin at the oddest times—and it was a heck of a lot better than the scratchy wool dress she had been told to wear.
Oh, well.
After her father had stopped yelling, she’d been sent to stay in her room all evening. Her mother had actually thought it was a punishment for her to remain in her bedroom instead of being downstairs in the living room with the professors and their stuffy spouses.
“Believe it or not,” Mandy said, dragging her mind back to the present, “there’s an attached garage. Back in the eighties, Mr. Bertram had a sunroom built that connects it. The garage door opener is in the kitchen.”
Daniel opened the front door and motioned for her to go ahead.
“Beautiful,” he declared after a minute staring about the entryway.
She nodded.
His admiration appeared genuine, which it ought to be. The entryway was an architectural masterpiece. Quickly, Mandy walked through the hallway and into the kitchen at the rear of the house.
“It’s been remodeled with all the latest conveniences,” she said. “Old Man Bertram left money to do it, though it’s too bad he didn’t put in the modern kitchen before he died. His housekeeper cooked on a fifty-year-old stove and says she still has nightmares.”
Mandy opened a drawer to reveal two garage door openers and various small gadgets to use around the house.
“There’s food in the freezer. Casseroles started arriving two days ago. We were going to have milk and fresh food in the fridge, only since we got mixed up about your arrival date, I’m afraid it’s still empty.”
“I’m sorry if I upset the plans.”
Mandy shrugged. “It’s not your fault. We just wanted to have it extra nice when you got here.”
“We?” Daniel asked. “How are you involved?”
“I was asked to be on the welcome committee. Anyway, the bed in the upstairs master bedroom is made, so that’s done. It’s on the right at the front of the house as you go up.”
“Thank you,” he said and began walking her to the front door.
“Oh, drat.” She mentally slapped her forehead. “I forgot your office keys. I’ll go get them now.”
“You’ll be at City Hall tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Yeah. Well, barring a blizzard or something,” she qualified.
“Right. Just unlock my office door if you have to step out. I have enough to do here. I can wait until tomorrow for the keys.”
“Sure. Say, you’d better turn up the hot water heater in the garage. It’ll just be lukewarm, otherwise.”
“Thanks.”
He turned and disappeared into the house, much to Mandy’s relief. There was something overpowering about Daniel Whittier, making her glad to escape.
* * *
BLEARY-EYED, DANIEL looked out the window at his Jeep Cherokee. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to park it in the garage and catch a nap. Not only had he gotten no sleep the night before, he’d been short on it for the past month. He was thirty-five now, not eighteen, and it was catching up to him.
Daniel walked through the pleasant sunroom off the kitchen and sure enough, the opposite door opened into a spacious garage. He parked his Jeep in the garage, closed the automatic door and then went up to find the master bedroom Mandy Colson had mentioned. He sank onto the bed, thinking about her. Lord, the woman had made his exhausted brain spin with her verbal detours and runaway mouth.
But she had an engaging smile that probably turned her boyfriends into melted butter and delighted the senior citizens she worked with.
His head hit the pillow. More misgivings about his move to Willow’s Eve were attacking. He’d envisioned a tidy ranch home, not a Victorian monster—this place was so huge they’d rattle around like dried peas in a pod. Worse, Samantha might find it overwhelming, or even frightening. Somehow he’d have to find a way to make her feel safe and secure, despite all the changes in her life.
Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep. Perhaps everything would seem more promising once he wasn’t so tired.
* * *
FOUR HOURS LATER, Daniel woke with a start, and it took a moment to orient himself.
He’d been grateful when he was offered the job in Willow’s Eve. The timing was perfect and would provide employment while he considered the future. Most of all, it had gotten him cleanly and quickly away from Southern California. Moving was probably best, even if Celia and the mayor hadn’t started dating. Celia was never going to develop maternal feelings, and his daughter would find it increasingly painful as she recognized that her mommy was more interested in Prada shoes than her own child—if she didn’t realize it already. It would be better for Samantha not to be constantly reminded of that hurtful truth. It was hard to feel unwanted, and even worse at only five years old.
He unpacked the Jeep and stacked everything in the kitchen before exploring the various rooms. The Victorian contained a significant amount of furniture, though some of the pieces were so old-fashioned they were practically antiques. Hell, most of them were antiques. It was handy that the house came furnished since his ex-wife had taken almost everything when she left. Daniel hadn’t cared as long as she didn’t use Samantha as a bargaining chip.
The Victorian had both a formal living room and a flowery parlor connected by French doors; Daniel stood between them, trying to picture his recently purchased dark gray-green leather couches in place of the elegant settees and needlepoint-upholstered chairs. The modern couches wouldn’t match the historic architecture, but they’d be far more comfortable. He and Joyce could discuss it before making a final decision.
Joyce.
Daniel chuckled to himself, wondering what the locals would think about his former mother-in-law living with him. It was unusual, but it was best for Samantha. The two of them were currently living in his town house. Joyce was a terrific lady, and having her in Willow’s Eve meant that Samantha wouldn’t need to go into child care. They were following him in a couple of weeks, depending upon how quickly he got things settled. Grabbing his smartphone, he dialed Joyce’s cell number. He’d called earlier to report his safe arrival in Willow’s Eve, but there had been little else to recount. Now he could tell Joyce and Samantha about the house.
“Hello, Daniel,” Joyce answered. He heard the smile in her voice. “Have you seen the house?”
“Yes. It’s a very large Victorian, in excellent shape. I’ve gotten some
