1. Cold
Cold
Helena
Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.
The bitter wind claws at me as I step out of my truck, its icy fingers prying into every gap in my coat.
It’s six-thirty, and the parking lot of the town’s diner is already buzzing with life under a still-dark sky.
Guided by vague memories of a map and my headlights, I drove to Hawthorn, Wyoming last night and checked into the town’s single motel with a reservation in my name.
After a sleepless night, I’m here, desperate for coffee and a hot meal.
The diner door swings open, spilling warmth, chatter, and the smell of frying bacon over me.
I blink against the sting of cold tears, tugging off my woolen mittens as my eyes adjust to the soft glow inside.
Scanning the room, I see no empty tables, just townsfolk bundled in plaid and denim, speaking in low voices over steaming plates.
I settle on an empty seat at the counter, aware of curious eyes as an older woman with silver hair in a tight bun approaches, her face shifting into an odd, rigid smile.
“Need a menu, dear?” Her voice has the faintest tremor, as if she’s wary of my presence.
“Yes, please. And the biggest coffee you’ve got,” I reply, hoping the warmth of a cup of coffee can thaw out my body.
“We just have one size, but I’ll keep it full for you,” she promises.
“Perfect,” I say, rubbing my cold hands together as she sets down a worn mug and fills it from a pot that looks like it hasn’t left its burner in decades. She studies me for a moment longer, eyes narrowed.
“Are you new here, or just passing through?” she asks.
“Both?” I answer. “I’ve been sent to work for the Hayes family. Might just be through the summer, might be longer.”
The name Hayes seems to hang heavy in the air. She leans in slightly, voice lowering. “They sent a pretty little thing like you to Devil’s Ridge?”
I nod. “I guess they did.”
A man a few seats down gives the woman a look. Concern and pity momentarily cross his face before he shakes his head and returns to his eggs. She fixes a stern gaze on him before turning back to me.
“You’re gonna need more than just coffee. Make sure you get yourself a good breakfast,” she says, setting a menu in front of me. “I’ll give you a minute. Name’s Ruth if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Ruth,” I reply, looking over the menu as I crack open a pod of creamer and pour it into my coffee.
Once my order’s in, I settle in with the well-worn Bible I was given the day I left home.
Its brown leather cover is tattered, the pages covered in blue and black ink where I’ve underlined passages.
I fan the pages until I find my place in Deuteronomy, letting the familiar verses quiet my thoughts.
I make it through a couple of chapters before Ruth brings my food, and I dig in.
True to her word, my coffee mug never sits empty .
“You were hungry,” Ruth remarks, a hint of a smile in her eyes.
“I missed dinner last night,” I admit.
She nods, her gaze softening with almost a motherly concern. “Make sure those men out there let you eat, darling. You’ll need it.”
“You make it sound like the Hayes Ranch is…demanding.” I glance up, trying to gauge her expression.
She pauses, eyes darkening as she meets mine. “Keep that Bible close and look out for the boy. He’s been without his momma for years now. Make friends with Eli, and mind to keep out of Silas’s way. Do those things and you’ll be just fine.”
Her tone, steady and firm, sends a chill down my spine. I swallow, holding her gaze. “What can you tell me about Silas?”
She pulls back, hands clasped tight. “Not my place to speak on a man’s troubles,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “But he hasn’t been the same since Caroline passed. Rarely leaves the property.”
“Caroline…his wife?”
A somber nod. She pats my arm gently. “Just take good care of that boy.”
“I will,” I say, reaching for my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
She clears my plate and waves me off with a smile. “Your money’s no good here, sweetheart. Just come see me anytime.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I should leave you something.”
She shakes her head. “Consider it a welcome gift.”
I give her a smile and nod. “Well, thank you. Hope to see you again.” I gather my things and take one more sip of coffee. The warmth of the diner fades as I step back into the biting cold, a shiver running down my spine as I consider what lies ahead.
Devil’s Ridge Ranch
Parked at the entrance, I sit in my truck watching the branded wooden sign sway lazily in the cold wind.
Weather and time have softened its letters, and I study the name for a long moment.
Beyond it, the dirt road stretches into the distance, winding its way toward the main house, partially veiled by the haze of lightly falling flurries.
The clouds are thick, gray, and unrelenting above; a late winter canvas that goes on and on.
“You’re stronger than this, Helena. Just turn onto the drive and get it over with.
” My voice is brittle, it barely convinces me.
I’ve been restless since the assignment landed in my lap over a month ago, nerves buzzing, an old ache stirring just beneath my skin.
But I know that once I set foot on this land, there’s no turning back.
Six-year-old boy in need of a nanny.
Forty-six-year-old widower in need of someone to run the house for the summer.
I’ve spent the last four years working as a nanny in the polished homes of Cheyenne’s well-to-do. But this…this feels different, something old and dusty in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t been so far from everything in a long time and certainly never crossed a threshold quite like this.
With a sigh, I throw the truck into drive and start down the gravel road; the tires crunching against stones and patches of lingering ice.
As I near the house, the wind fades, and the flurries pause, leaving a quiet stillness.
The road is bumpy, edged with heaps of half-melted snow, and I grip the wheel tighter, watching as the house grows clearer.
It stands somber and weather-worn. The front porch shows its age with faded boards and a tattered, fluttering screen door.
An empty porch swing sways gently, as though caught in an old memory.
My eyes roam over the place until a figure by the barn catches my attention.
A tall man slips quickly inside, disappearing into shadow, as if he hadn’t meant to be seen.
I shake off the strange unease, open my door, and step out, the cold air pinching at my cheeks. Circling to the passenger side, I gather the few belongings I’ve brought—a small suitcase and a large tote—then take a deep breath, the place settling around me as I start toward the steps.
Just as I reach the porch, another man appears from the direction of the barn, different from the one I glimpsed before. He’s smiling, hands tucked into the pockets of his heavy coat as he approaches.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, a kindness in his voice as he stops a few paces away.
“My name is Helena Toth. I’m here for the nanny position.” I set my tote down to dig the paperwork from the agency out of the pocket of my jeans. Handing it to him, I feel his gaze linger for a moment before he takes it.
I glance out over the tree line, taking in a quick assessment while he unfolds the paper, eyes scanning the information. “Well, lovely to meet you, Helena. I’m Eli. I can show you inside.”
“You’re Eli?”
He nods, a curious tilt to his head. “That’d be me.”
“Ruth at the diner mentioned you this morning,” I say, a tenderness in my voice at the memory of her kindness.
His face softens with a faint smile. “Ruth’s my sister.”
“She’s very nice,” I say, recalling her steady, motherly presence.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “She is when she wants to be. If she took to you quickly, then we’ll be friends in no time, I’m sure.”
I return his smile, hopeful as he leads me toward the door.
He pulls a set of keys from his pocket, each one aged with time, and unlocks the door, guiding me into a cozy interior.
Inside, the subtle smell of cedar mixes with the lingering scent of breakfast. We both remove our coats and scarves, hanging them in the closet.
The entryway walls are a deep green, adorned with quiet nature scenes framed in polished wood.
I let my eyes roam, taking in the high ceiling and the soft, welcoming light filtering in from a nearby window.
It’s odd how the exterior is worn, appearing neglected, but the interior is well cared for, almost welcoming.
Eli leads me to the kitchen, an expansive space with a six-burner stove, double ovens, and a large refrigerator along one wall.
In the center, a butcher-block island stretches wide, a few chairs pulled up to one side.
Across the room, a dining table large enough to seat twelve sits beneath an iron chandelier.
“This is the kitchen,” he says, his voice filling the space. “You’ll probably spend a fair amount of time here.”
“It’s…big,” I murmur, eyeing the table and thinking about the number of plates that pass through here every day.
Eli smiles, following my gaze. “Big place, big appetites. You’ll find there’s usually around eight of us on the property. Then there’s Silas and Kiran.” I watch as his eyes move to my suitcase. “Let me show you to your room so you can set your things down.”
“That would be nice, thank you.”
The stairs creak as we make our way to the second level.
Near the end of the hall, Eli gestures toward a door.
“This will be your room. It’s the only one besides Silas’s that has its own bathroom.
” He fiddles with the keyring, removing one of the keys and hands it to me.
“This is the key to the lock. You’ll be the only woman on the property, so we want you to have your privacy. ”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you get settled, and I’ll tell Silas you’re here. I’m sure he’ll want to meet you and go over everything you’ll need to know while you’re staying with us.”
“Sounds good.” I tuck the key in my pocket. “Um, Eli?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
I grin. “Please, call me Helena.”
“Okay, Ms. Helena.”
“What can you tell me about Silas?”
He glances down the hallway. “He’s just a lonely man. He does what he thinks is right, loves his son, and misses his wife.”
“He doesn’t sound so bad.”
Eli chuckles. “You might change your mind once you spend some time with him.” He points to the door next to mine. “That’s his room there and the boy, Kiran, his room is across the hall here.”
I nod. “Well, I’m going to get settled. Thank you, Eli. ”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Helena. If you need anything, let me know. Most of the men here won’t pay you any mind, but I’m always happy to help with anything.”
“That’s nice of you. Thank you. I’ll see you later.”
He smiles and walks down the stairs. I enter my room.
It’s simple, but filled with light. Most of the space is filled with a large wooden bed, covered by a beautiful red patchwork quilt.
A nightstand and a dresser with a mirror are waiting to store my belongings.
There’s no closet, just a door to a small bathroom with a shower and enough room to turn around.
I set my suitcase and bag on the bed and begin unpacking, laying my clothes in the dresser and lining up my shoes and boots under the window. My items from my tote bag fill the nightstand, but I leave my Bible on the surface. Placing my tote inside my suitcase, I tuck it away under the bed.
Happy with my progress, I look at my watch. It’s 10am, which means the men will want lunch soon if I had to guess. Locking my door, I slip the key into the pocket of my jeans and walk down the hallway.