Chapter 4
Roman
It was too damn cold for this.
I glared through the car window. It was almost comical the way she stared back at me in shock, as if she weren’t actively trying to kill herself right now.
I’d noticed her car return to the neighborhood through the cameras installed outside the bed-and-breakfast—meant to watch the street. When I hadn’t seen her get out of the vehicle and the snow started to pile higher, I’d decided to check on her after Hailey went to bed.
When she didn’t move, I rapped on the glass again.
She surged forward, fumbling with the lock before cracking the door open. No warmth spilled out from inside. I glanced into the interior of the car. It was an older vehicle—a dingy white sedan that was in dire need of new tires.
Inside, though, it was clean and well cared for.
I narrowed my eyes at the woman blinking up at me like I was some kind of ghost in the night.
She had a pile of blankets stacked on top of her, deep green and burnt orange.
They reminded me of her sweater from earlier.
She’d said it was wool, but it didn’t matter if those blankets were straight-up sheep pelts—they weren’t enough.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
She swallowed hard, her delicate throat dipping. Her nose and the tops of her cheekbones were pink from the cold.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
I gestured around us, to the snow falling steadily from the sky. “You’re going to freeze to death in these conditions.”
She blinked at me again.
She looked younger than the twenty-seven years she was supposed to be. Her long, blonde hair was in that loose braid over one shoulder, and she was still wearing that sweater and no winter coat.
“I don’t really think I’m going to freeze,” she said softly, an edge of defiance in her tone.
Those big eyes flicked toward the falling snow, then to the flurries landing on her blankets. “That might change, though, if I don’t get my door closed.”
I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t tell whether she was serious or not.
“You can’t sleep in a car during a winter storm.”
She deflated instantly. “Please don’t call the police.
It’s just for one night. I—” Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.
“I didn’t realize the weather was going to get so bad.
I couldn’t make the trip to the hotel I was planning on staying at.
I promise I’m not going to stay more than tonight. ”
I stared at Palmer—at the woman who had knocked on my parents’ door that morning and offered to be my nanny completely out of the blue. I hadn’t known what to make of her then. I didn’t believe in coincidences, and it had seemed too perfect. Suspiciously so.
In the hours since she’d left, I’d taken her information and had my brother—the chief technical officer at Hearthstone—run a background check. There wasn’t anything Fox couldn’t hack and uncover about someone if he was determined to.
She was a real nanny. She’d been working in childcare for years.
Her references were solid. I’d even spoken to her last employer—the one who’d let her go without much notice.
Stephen had nothing but good things to say, but something about the conversation had made me uneasy. Like he was holding something back.
Now here she was. Freezing in her damn car, half-buried in snow.
“You couldn’t have stayed with anyone else in town?” I asked.
Her hands fisted the thick blankets. “No.”
I sighed, and it came out more like a growl. I gazed around the snow-covered street. It was like something off a Christmas card—antique lampposts, glowing windows, perfectly kept houses.
But out here, Palmer was alone in the dark and cold. I should probably leave her here. She was an adult making her own choices.
I knew that I couldn’t, though.
“Come on,” I said instead.
Her head popped up, confusion written plainly across her face.
“What?” she asked, baffled.
I opened the door wider and jerked my chin toward the sidewalk. “Get out. I’m not leaving you here to freeze.”
Her spine straightened. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t know why I was so irritated with her. The whole situation was…strange. I wanted to help. I always helped. It was second nature to me.
But something about this felt wrong.
I wasn’t a bed-and-breakfast host. That was my mom’s job. I wasn’t supposed to be taking strangers into the house I was meant to be safeguarding. Maybe that was why I was so frustrated. I wasn’t supposed to be offering rooms. I was supposed to be protecting what little I had left in Ember Hollow.
I leaned closer, dipping down until my entire head was inside her car. I expected her to lean away, but she didn’t.
“We have plenty of room,” I said, my voice low. “Stay at the bed-and-breakfast.”
She inhaled sharply. “I thought it was temporarily closed.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Not for you, it seems.”
“Sit over there, by the fire,” I instructed tersely as we walked through the doors of my childhood home.
I’d lit the fire in the living room shortly before I’d trekked out into the cold to check on her.
Palmer tensed, and I pinned her with a look. Snowflakes steadily melted from her hair now that we were in the warmth. She was holding the larger green blanket of hers close to her chest. I noticed the slight shiver that wavered through her, though.
“That’s okay,” she sputtered. “You’ve already done enough. I can just—go to a room?”
She was staring down at the floor, shoulders tight.
I repressed the urge to sigh. She needed to warm up, and I wasn’t going to send her to a room by herself before I was sure she would be all right.
I reached out, barely touching the lower part of her back as I ushered her into the living room. She let out a little gasp, but didn’t resist me.
“You need to warm up,” I grumbled.
When we came to the armchair closest to the hearth, I pointed to it. “Sit.”
She blinked up at me, dazed, and then plopped down on the cushion.
“What do you want to drink?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Drink?” she squeaked.
I frowned. What was wrong with this woman? It was like she’d never been offered assistance in her life. Hadn’t she been the one who’d come here in the first place, wanting to book a room?
“We have coffee for sure.” I touched my chin as I thought of what else Mom had in the cabinets. “There’s tea and hot chocolate, too, I think.”
When she didn’t answer after a pause, I glanced down at her.
Her cheeks were a blistering shade of red, but I couldn’t tell whether it was from being out in the cold for so long or the fire that flickered, casting shadows on her skin.
“Uh,” she stammered when I narrowed my eyes on her. “I really don’t need—”
She cut herself off when my stare sharpened. She cleared her throat.
“Tea.” She bit down on her lower lip. “I like tea.”
I turned and headed toward the kitchen.
I came back with a tray balanced in my hands, bearing a teapot, a cup, and a variety of teas I’d found in the kitchen. I hadn’t been sure what she’d like best, so I’d brought a bit of everything.
Her brows rose when I set the tray down on the side table beside her.
“Drink,” I instructed. “Get warm. Then I’ll show you to your room.”
I sat down on the couch across from her, deliberately leaning back, trying not to stare. The longer she sat there without drinking, the more irritated I was. I wondered—again—whether something was wrong with her.
I reminded myself of her references, and the way her past employers had raved about her. She had to be competent in some way, didn’t she?
Some of the tightness in my chest eased when she finally reached for the teapot and poured hot water into the cup.
I watched her from the corner of my eye as she selected a tea bag and dunked it into the water, deftly wrapping the string around the top of the handle. When she lifted the cup, she wrapped both hands around the ceramic and inhaled the steam rising from it.
She sighed softly, her gaze drifting to the fire. “Where’s Hailey?”
I turned my head toward her, as if I hadn’t been paying close attention to her this entire time.
“She’s in bed.”
Her brows pulled together. “Oh.”
She seemed disappointed.
“I was hoping to see her.”
She took a tentative sip of tea, her attention fixed on the fire.
“I’m sorry for the trouble,” she continued, so softly I almost missed it over the crackle of the flames.
I folded my arms over my chest.
“I can pay you for my room,” she added. “I really appreciate you letting me stay for the night.”
I wasn’t sure how to read her. I’d never had a talent for that the way my brothers, Graham or Reid, did. They could dissect people down to their bones with a glance and a few well-placed questions. Me—I relied on instinct. On feeling people out.
But Palmer was…confusing.
She seemed open, almost disarmingly so, but something else was there, too. Something she was holding back. Maybe something she was trying to hide.
It was my duty to protect my family, to protect this house. But I also had a responsibility to the town. I needed to go back to work. They needed me at the firehouse.
And here Palmer was, with a clean background check and a seemingly pristine employment history. I didn’t know whether I could—or should—even consider hiring this woman, but I had to figure something out.
Whatever I decided, the most important thing was what was best for Hailey.
I forced my gaze away from her.
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow,” I said tightly. “Drink your tea. Then I’ll show you to your room.”