Chapter 3 - Vincent
I never knew my aunt's old clothes could look like that on anyone. But here's Charlotte Wilson, emerging from her room looking like she just stepped off a magazine cover instead of out of a three-mile hike in the summer heat.
Her hair is damp from the shower, falling in loose waves around her shoulders, and her face is scrubbed clean, revealing even more freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. My aunt's faded blue t-shirt should look frumpy and practical—instead, it somehow highlights curves I'm doing my best not to notice.
This is a complication I hadn't anticipated.
I clear my throat and pretend to be very interested in my truck keys. "Ready to go?"
"Yes, thank you," she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "These fit perfectly. Please thank your aunt for me."
"She doesn't live here," I say brusquely. "Just visits sometimes."
Charlotte nods, undeterred by my curtness. "Will Lily be joining us for the trip to town?"
"No, Cole's teaching her how to sit a horse today. She's been after him for weeks." The corner of my mouth twitches despite myself. "My brother's a rodeo rider. According to Lily, that makes him the ultimate authority on all things equestrian, even though the rest of us have also been riding since before we could walk."
"She must be excited," Charlotte says, smiling. "She told me all about Butterscotch."
"Did she?" It's not really a question.
My daughter has apparently decided Charlotte is worth talking to, which is both a relief and a concern. Lily doesn't warm up to just anyone these days, not since Sarah left.
"She's very proud of it," Charlotte continues as I lead her toward the front door. "She showed me pictures on the frames in the hallway. She said you taught her how to brush him properly."
I pause with my hand on the doorknob, surprised. "She remembered that?"
Charlotte's expression softens. "She remembers everything you teach her, I think. She's clearly her father's daughter."
Something warm and uncomfortable unfurls in my chest. I'm not used to compliments about my parenting, especially not from someone who's only known Lily for a couple of hours.
"We should get going," I say, pushing the door open. "Town's a thirty-minute drive, and Pete will want to talk to you about your car."
Charlotte follows me out to my truck, a beat-up Ford that's seen better days but still runs like a dream thanks to my careful maintenance. I notice her hesitate slightly before accepting my hand up into the passenger seat, her fingers warm and soft against my calloused palm.
I circle around to the driver's side, mentally kicking myself. This is Lily's nanny, for crying out loud, not some woman I met at a bar in town. I need to get my head straight.
As I slide behind the wheel, I catch Charlotte looking around the cab of my truck with interest. "Something wrong?"
She shakes her head quickly. "Not at all. I just... I like that it smells like leather and hay, rather than air freshener. It feels authentic."
I shoot her a sideways glance as I start the engine. "As opposed to fake?"
Her cheeks color slightly. "I didn't mean—"
"I'm teasing," I say, surprising myself. I don't typically tease anyone besides Lily and occasionally my brothers. "Though I'm not sure what an inauthentic truck would smell like."
She laughs, "Pine-scented cardboard trees and insecurity?"
Now it's my turn to chuckle. "Fair enough."
We drive in silence for a few minutes, the ranch falling away behind us as we follow the long dirt road that eventually connects to the highway. I'm not much for small talk, but the quiet between us feels strangely charged, like we're both waiting for something.
"So," she finally says, "tell me about your brothers. You all run the ranch together?"
I nod, keeping my eyes on the road.
"Five of us altogether. Aaron, whom you’ve already met, was a Marine and did two tours before coming home for good. Doesn't talk much these days, but he's solid. Then there's me. Jackson's the oldest. He handles most of the business aspects. Cole's the rodeo star of the family, spends more time on the circuit than at home, but always makes time for Lily. Ethan's the baby, still figuring himself out."
"That must be nice," she says quietly. "Having family around."
Something in her tone makes me glance over. "You don't have siblings?"
She shakes her head. "Only child. And my parents are both gone now."
"I'm sorry," I say, meaning it.
I know what it's like to lose parents—my father and mother have been gone for a while. But I can't imagine facing that without my brothers to share the burden.
"It's been a while," she says with a small shrug. "Makes it easier to relocate for jobs like this, I suppose. No ties."
We crest a hill, and the view opens up before us—rolling hills, distant mountains, and endless sky. I watch as Charlotte takes it all in, her eyes widening.
"It's beautiful," she breathes. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Born and raised in the city?" I guess.
She nods. "Chicago. Concrete and crowds as far as the eye can see. This is..." She gestures at the landscape. "It's like breathing for the first time."
There's something about the genuine wonder in her voice that softens something in me. Perhaps she's not just another city girl seeking a quaint cowboy experience before returning to civilization.
"Cedar Falls gets under your skin," I admit. "Can't imagine living anywhere else."
"I can see why," she says, still gazing out at the scenery. After a moment, she turns to me. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?"
"For not firing me on the spot when I showed up half an hour late and looking like I'd run a marathon."
I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel the weight of her gaze. "You walked three miles because your car broke down. Hard to hold that against you."
"Still, I know first impressions matter. And Lily... She said something."
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "What did she say?"
Charlotte hesitates. "She asked me if I was going to leave like her mother did."
The familiar anger flares hot in my chest—not at Charlotte, but at Sarah and the damage she left behind. "What did you tell her?"
"The truth. That I can't promise forever, but I can promise not to disappear, and to always be honest with her."
I nod slowly, appreciating the honesty even if it's not what I wanted to hear. "Kids need stability."
"They do," she agrees softly. "And so do their parents."
I glance at her, but her expression is open, without judgment. She's not taking a dig at me; she's simply acknowledging a truth we both know.
The truck bumps over a cattle guard as we approach the main road, and I shift into a higher gear.
"So, what brought you to Cedar Falls, Charlotte? Long way from Chicago."
She's quiet for a moment, and I wonder if I've overstepped. Then she says, "I needed a fresh start. My fiancé and I broke up eight months ago, and everywhere I went in Chicago had memories attached."
"I'm sorry," I say, though I'm suddenly, inexplicably glad to hear she's single.
She shrugs. "Don't be. Best decision I ever made, walking away from that relationship. But it meant reevaluating everything. I've always loved working with children, so when I saw the agency listing for a live-in nanny position on a ranch, I was excited.” She smiles. "It seemed like the perfect escape."
"Escape," I repeat, not sure I like the sound of that. "Is that what this is for you? A temporary getaway from real life?"
Her smile fades. "That's not what I meant."
"Isn't it?" I can hear the edge in my voice but can't seem to soften it. "Because Lily doesn't need someone who's just passing through while they figure out their next move."
Charlotte turns in her seat to face me. "Vincent, I understand your concern. Really, I do. But I didn't take this job on a whim. I'm committed to being here for Lily for as long as you'll have me. Yes, I needed a change of scenery, but that doesn't mean I'm treating this job—or your daughter—as some kind of vacation distraction."
The sincerity in her voice is hard to dismiss, but I've been burned before—we all have.
"Words are easy."
"Actions matter more," she agrees. "So let me prove it to you. Day by day."
I glance over at her, struck by the determination in her eyes. There's something about Charlotte Wilson that doesn't quite fit the mold I tried to put her in. She's not what I expected.
We're approaching the outskirts of town now, the familiar buildings coming into view: Madeline's Diner, the general store, Pete's Garage on the corner.
"We'll get your car situation sorted first," I say, turning into the garage's parking lot. "Then you can pick up whatever supplies you need at the general store."
"Thank you," she says, and I notice she's twisting her hands in her lap nervously.
"Something wrong?"
She bites her lip. "I'm just hoping it's not too expensive. I don't have a lot of spare cash at the moment.”
Her admission catches me off guard. I hadn't considered the financial burden this breakdown might place on her—starting a new job, relocating across the country.
"It's on the house," I say before I can overthink it. "Don't worry about it."
Charlotte blinks at me, confusion replacing concern. "What do you mean?"
"Your car breaking down on your way to work for me makes it my problem." I put the truck in park and turn to face her. "You have nothing to worry about."
"That's very generous, but I can't accept that. I don't take handouts."
There's a pride in her voice that I recognize—it's the same stubborn independence I see in the mirror every morning. Somehow, that makes me respect her more.
"It's not a handout," I tell her. "Consider it part of the job. I need you to take Lily to activities and run errands. Can't have you stranded."
She studies me for a long moment, like she's trying to read something written in fine print on my face. "You're not what I expected, Vincent Covington."
I raise an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?"
A small smile touches her lips. "I haven't decided yet."
Pete emerges from the garage bay as we approach, wiping his hands on a rag that probably makes them dirtier rather than cleaner. He's been fixing vehicles in this town since before I was born, his gray hair always hidden under the same oil-stained cap.
"Vincent Covington," he calls out. "Jackson said you'd be bringing in the stranded city girl."
I feel Charlotte stiffen beside me and find myself instinctively stepping slightly in front of her, as if to shield her from Pete's bluntness.
"Pete, this is Charlotte Wilson. She's Lily's new nanny."
Pete's eyebrows shoot up, and he gives Charlotte a once-over that makes my jaw clench for reasons I'd rather not overthink.
He extends his hand to Charlotte. "Pete Larson, ma'am. Best mechanic in two counties."
To her credit, Charlotte doesn't hesitate to shake his greasy hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Larson. I appreciate you towing my car in on such short notice."
"Call me Pete, everyone does. And it's no trouble. Any friend of the Covingtons is a friend of mine." He looks at me. "Your brother told me you thought it was the starter. You were right. Got a rebuilt one that will work just fine; have her running by tomorrow afternoon. Everything that was inside is in the storeroom.”
"How much?" Charlotte asks before I can speak.
Pete glances between us, "Well now, parts and labor..."
"It's covered, Pete," I say firmly. "Put it on the ranch account. We’ll get everything tomorrow."
Pete nods slowly. "Sure thing, boss."
"Thank you," Charlotte says, but her expression is unreadable as we walk back to my truck.
Once we're inside, she turns to me. "Still can’t believe you really did that. I owe you one."
"You don’t. Take it as an entry bonus."
She folds her arms across her chest. "But why? Is it really just because I’m Lily’s nanny? I’d understand if my car stopped working on the job, but not before."
I start the engine, buying myself a moment. The truth is, I'm not entirely sure why I'm so insistent on helping her. Maybe it's because her walking all those miles impressed me more than I want to admit.
"Because we take care of our own," I finally say. "And while you're working at the ranch, that includes you."
She seems to accept that. We drive through the small downtown area, which consists of all of two stoplights and a handful of businesses lining Main Street. Charlotte watches everything with interest, taking in the small-town charm that I've long since stopped noticing.
"Hungry?" I ask, pulling into a parking space in front of Madeline's Diner.
"Starving, actually," she admits. "Walking three miles works up an appetite."
"Madeline makes the best burgers in the state."
The bell above the door jingles as we enter, and I'm relieved to see the lunch rush has passed. Only a few tables are occupied, most by regulars who nod in greeting. I lead Charlotte to a booth by the window, settling across from her.
Madeline herself approaches with menus and water glasses, her eyebrows rising at the sight of my companion.
"Vincent Covington, twice in one month? Must be a blue moon." Her curious gaze shifts to Charlotte. "And with company, no less."
"Madeline, this is Charlotte Wilson. Lily's new nanny. Charlotte, this is Madeline, owner and chef extraordinaire."
"Charmed," Madeline says, though she's clearly bursting with questions she's too polite to ask outright. "Special today is the bison burger with pepper jack and caramelized onions."
"Sounds delicious," Charlotte says with a warm smile. "I'll have that, please."
"Make it two," I add. "And coffee, black."
"Iced tea for me, if you have it," Charlotte says.
Madeline nods. "Coming right up."
As she walks away, Charlotte leans forward slightly. "I think she wanted to interrogate me."
I chuckle. "Small towns. By sundown, everyone will know Lily has a new nanny, what you ordered for lunch, and probably your shoe size."
"Is that why you don't come to town often? 'Twice in one month' sounded like an accusation."
"I'm more of a homebody," I admit. "The ranch keeps me busy enough."
She nods, taking a sip of her water. "Tell me more about it—the ranch, I mean. The agency wasn't big on details."
“It began as a modest cattle operation started by my great-grandfather. My grandfather expanded into horse breeding, and my father modernized many of the operations. Now the five of us run it together."
"And your specialty is...?"
"The cattle. I manage the herd, breeding, and grazing rotations. Each brother typically does a bit of everything, though. Except for Cole when he’s competing."
"It sounds like a well-oiled machine," she observes.
I shrug. "Most days. We have our disagreements like any family business."
Madeline returns with our drinks, then disappears again. Charlotte wraps her hands around her iced tea, staring at me over the rim of her glass.
"So, Vincent Covington, cattle rancher, single father, brother of four... what do you do when you're not working or parenting?"
The question catches me off guard. It's been so long since anyone's asked me about myself beyond my responsibilities.
"I read. Whenever I can find the time."
Her eyes light up. "Really? What kind of books?"
"History, mostly. Some fiction. Louis L'Amour is a guilty pleasure." I find myself oddly embarrassed by the admission. "You?"
"I'm a mystery buff. Agatha Christie, Doyle, modern thrillers. I love trying to solve the puzzle before the detective does." She smiles. "When I was a kid, I wanted to be Nancy Drew."
"And instead you became a nanny," I observe. "How did that happen?"
Her smile softens. "I've always loved working with children. There's something about helping shape a young mind, being part of their journey... it's special. I studied early childhood education in college, worked at a daycare for a few years, then started taking private nanny positions."
"And now you're here, in the middle of nowhere."
"Now I'm here," she agrees, her eyes meeting mine. "And despite my car breaking down and making a terrible first impression, I'm glad."
Before I can respond, Madeline arrives with our burgers, setting them down with a flourish.
"Enjoy, you two," she says with a wink that I pointedly ignore.
Charlotte takes a bite of her burger and her eyes widen.
"Oh my god," she murmurs after swallowing. "You weren't kidding. This is amazing."
I find myself watching her enjoyment with unexpected pleasure. "Told you."
We eat in silence for a few minutes before Charlotte speaks again. "What about Lily? What should I know that wasn't in my briefing?"
I set down my burger, considering. "She's smart. Too smart sometimes—picks up on everything, even when you think she's not listening. She loves animals, stories, and anything purple. Hates green vegetables and having her hair washed."
Charlotte nods, absorbing this. "And what about her mother? I know it's none of my business, but if I'm going to help Lily, it would be good to understand what happened."
"Sarah left a year ago. Said motherhood wasn't what she expected, that she felt trapped. Lily was four." My voice hardens. She calls maybe once a month, usually when she feels guilty. Promises to visit, never does."
Charlotte's expression is sympathetic but not pitying, which I appreciate. "That must be incredibly difficult for both of you."
“Lily has both good and bad days. She still asks when her mom is coming home, even though I've explained that's not happening.”
"And you? Do you have good and bad days too?"
The question is gentle, but it hits like a physical blow. No one asks how I'm handling it anymore. They just assume I'm fine, the stoic single dad soldiering on.
"I'm fine," I say automatically. Then, surprising myself: "Most days. I don't miss Sarah—our marriage was already on shaky ground before she left. But I hate what it's done to Lily."
Charlotte nods, understanding in her eyes. "Children are resilient, but they need stability. Consistency."
"Which is why I need you to be sure about this job," I say, bringing us back to my earlier concern. "Lily can't handle another person walking out of her life."
"I understand that, Vincent. And I promise you, I didn't take this position lightly." She hesitates, then adds, "My fiancé—ex-fiancé—he wanted me to give up working with children. Said being a nanny was just playing house with other people's kids, that it wasn't a 'real career.'" Her expression hardens slightly. "That was the beginning of the end for us. I won't apologize for loving what I do, and I won't abandon it—or Lily—on a whim."
There's a conviction in her voice that's impossible to doubt. I find myself believing her, despite my better judgment.
"Fair enough," I say, then decide to lighten the mood. "So, what happened with this ex of yours? Besides him being an idiot about your career."
She laughs, surprised by my bluntness. "The short version? He wanted a trophy wife who'd focus on hosting dinner parties for his colleagues and producing 3 perfect children. I wanted an equal partnership and to keep my identity beyond being someone's wife."
"His loss," I say before I can stop myself.
A faint blush colors her cheeks. "What about you? Any dating since Sarah left?"
I snort. "Between the ranch, Lily, and living thirty minutes from civilization? Not likely."
"The women of this town must be blind, then," she says with a small smile that does something strange to my pulse.
Before I can respond to that loaded statement, my phone buzzes. A text from Cole: *Lily took her first trot on Butterscotch. Pretty sure she hasn't stopped smiling. When are you coming home?*
"Everything okay?" Charlotte asks, noticing my expression.
"Fine. Cole says Lily's riding lesson went well." I slide my phone back into my pocket. "We should probably get your supplies and head back soon."
She nods, finishing the last bite of her burger. "This was nice. Thank you for lunch, and... everything else."
"You're welcome," I say, signaling Madeline for the check.
As we prepare to leave, I find myself studying Charlotte's profile as she gathers her things. She's nothing like what I expected when I hired a nanny through the agency. I thought I'd get someone older, more maternal, less... distracting.
Instead, I got Charlotte Wilson with her freckles and her Nancy Drew ambitions and her willingness to walk three miles in the heat rather than break a commitment.
It's a problem I wasn't looking for. And as I hold the diner door open for her, watching the sun catch in her hair, I have a feeling it's only going to get more complicated.