A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

HUDSON

T emperatures are steadily dropping due to a cold front sweeping from the Rockies into Texas. This weekend, they’re expected to dip into the thirties, and I couldn't be more excited. The transition from autumn to winter is my favorite time of year when the crunchy leaves turn to ash and the world grows quiet.

I've learned to embrace silence, a concept Emma Manchester would never understand.

I lift the ax above my head and bring the blade down onto the thick trunk. After several swings, the wood finally cracks and splits. I adjust one side and continue chopping it into smaller, more manageable logs.

The town often loses power during the season due to ice build-up on the lines. Now that I have more than just myself to consider, I stay prepared just in case.

My son is the sole reason I'll spend my only day off working myself to the bone. The last thing I want is for Colby to be cold because of my negligence. I've learned to put his needs above mine without hesitation.

While I have a generator that powers only the fridge and water pump, I plan to upgrade it to run the entire house eventually. However, that's quite an expense, and I’ve been saving for Colby’s college.

I fill the wheelbarrow with wood and push it toward the storage shed. It's heavy, but I prefer to overload it and make fewer trips. The soreness in my muscles reminds me that I’m alive.

Sunlight peeks through the clouds, and suddenly Emma bursts into my thoughts with her red hair and captivating brown eyes. Frustration surges within me. I can't deal with her. Since the moment I first laid eyes on her in July, she has felt like poison in my veins. Getting too close would be a disaster, especially after last night when I almost kissed her.

It was a near miss, and I’m grateful to Jake for stopping it. He didn’t respond to my thanks.

Part of me wanted to say screw it and press my lips against hers, but I chose to listen to the angel on my shoulder instead of the devil whispering in my ear. I cannot cross that line with Emma “Maneater” Manchester.

Yes, I know about her nickname. The entire internet knows. And while she’s incredibly tempting, acting on that desire would be disastrous for both of us.

This season, I don’t have time for any distractions.

With the farm short-staffed this winter, I face more work than usual. Lisa, one of the clerks who helped wrap gifts for the shop, is on maternity leave, one of my cousins can only stick around for half the season, and Colby’s recent anxiety about being away from me complicates things further. My to-do list feels endless.

Now, with Emma here for a while, I worry about how to keep her at arm’s length. My heart is too cold for her, and I doubt she can ignite it, even though she radiates warmth.

I can't deny the spark when our fingers brushed against each other. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything to her, but I could see the surprise in her eyes and on her face. For a fleeting moment, I imagined spending a lifetime with her.

I close my eyes, forcing those thoughts away. Emma is just a distraction, wrapped in a beautifully stubborn package. Though she isn’t good for me—or for Colby—she occupies the forefront of my mind, urging me to take a chance on her.

“No,” I growl, refocusing on my chopping area.

Just as I reach for the ax, my phone vibrates on the ground where I left it. As I approach, I see it’s a call from Donna, Colby’s nanny.

She cares for him from noon until sunset, Monday through Friday. I drive him to pre-K in the mornings, and she picks him up from school. While she isn’t cheap, I’ve felt at ease this season knowing Colby is in good hands while I prepare the farm. Easing the stress that has burdened me for years is invaluable.

I bend down to answer. “Hudson.”

“Hi. Um. I don’t know how to say this,” she mumbles, her voice tentative and uncharacteristic.

“Okay.” My brow furrows. This isn’t a good sign. Donna has never hesitated to speak her mind.

Alarm bells ring as I brace for the worst. Just when I think life can’t possibly get any more complicated, it always does. My trauma prevents me from ever feeling entirely comfortable, and I hope that one day I’ll look back on this time in my life and feel proud that I survived it. Because if I can get through this, I can endure anything.

She clears her throat. “I was offered another job, and I accepted. I’m moving tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” I stare at the dark clouds rolling in, speechless.

It's a metaphor for my life: A brief glimpse of sunlight followed by overcast skies.

“I’m so sorry, Hudson. I love Colby and appreciate everything you've done for me, but I was offered a live-in position with a family in San Antonio. It's a salary I can't refuse, and after my divorce, you know how badly I need this.”

I want to be upset, but Donna warned me she was searching for a permanent position when I hired her. I just thought I had more time and hoped she'd stay in Merryville until January, when the season ends.

Two more months—that's all I needed.

“I'm really sorry,” she repeats, emphasizing how much she loves Colby. “I wish I could say goodbye. Maybe we can FaceTime?”

“Maybe.”

In less than twenty-four hours, I'll be working from sunrise to sundown until December 23rd, rotating weekends off. The Seasons Greeting ceremony, which kicks off our season, starts before Colby is released from school. I have no idea what I’ll do.

“I appreciate your help. Congratulations,” I tell her, too shocked to say anything more.

“Thanks for understanding.”

That's the last thing she says before the call ends. I stare at my phone, wanting to hurl it into the forest surrounding my house.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my voice echoing through the trees. Taking the hard road is exhausting, even if it's the only path I've ever known.

“You good?” I hear from behind me, pulling my attention back to reality.

As Lucas approaches, I grip my phone so tightly my fingers ache. He must be headed to Jake's.

“What's going on?” he asks.

I huff. “Donna took another nanny job in San Antonio and is moving.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“That’s utter bullshit,” he says, his jaw clenched.

Lucas knows how hard I've struggled to juggle everything this past year. I keep telling myself it could be worse. Right? But this feels strangely like rock-bottom.

“No one is available to pick Colby up from school tomorrow. Maybe I’ll keep him home and pray he doesn’t get cranky.”

“What about Claire?” Lucas asks.

“No.” I glance away from my brother. “I hate this.”

Lucas offers a sad smile. “If you keep Colby home from school, maybe we can convince the ladies in the shop to help out while the ceremony takes place?” He knows how restless Colby gets when he’s not stimulated.

“They’re not being paid to babysit. It’s rude to put that on them.”

“It's not like that. They love Colby. He's their honorary grandson.”

I shake my head. “Not happening.”

“Okay, if you need me to take him tomorrow, let me know. He can help me with tours, and I'll let him drive the tractor.”

“I'll figure it out.” I grab my ax, prepared to lose myself in my work once again.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Lucas asks.

“Just some leftovers from Friday,” I mutter.

“Jake’s serving chili around six, and he told me to invite you. He said he texted, but you didn't answer.”

“I've been working,” I say, my mind a jumbled mess.

The holidays are already challenging, and the added stress only heightens my feelings of loneliness.

Lucas steps forward, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s gonna work out. Don't worry about it.

“Thanks.”

“Remember what Mom used to tell us as kids?”

“It’s only temporary,” I reply. Despite being six years younger, Luke recalls what our mother always said. And it's true.

I lift the ax with every ounce of strength I have left, and this time, the thick wood splits effortlessly.

Lucas stands off to the side. “You're not supposed to be working today. It's a rest day for a reason.”

“No rest for the wicked,” I huff, continuing my task.

I don't know how to be still when Colby isn't here. This is my chance to catch up on things, and I need to keep my mind occupied.

He shakes his head. “When will you learn to relax?”

“Maybe never.”

“You weren't always like this, you know,” he says, moving toward the trail that leads to Jake’s cabin. The trail makes a big circle with offshoots leading to each of our cabins.

“People change,” I call out. The sound of the ax biting into the wood echoes through the trees. When he's out of sight, I lose myself in the physical labor.

During my next break, I check my texts.

Jake

You coming tonight?

Hudson

I don't think it's a good idea. School early in the morning.

Honestly, I shouldn’t see Emma.

Jake

It's dinner. Not a slumber party.

Hudson

Maybe next time.

Jake

If you change your mind, the invitation is open.

Hudson

Okay, thanks.

Last night, I fought an internal battle every second Emma was near. Her intoxicating presence tempted me like the devil. Something stirs beneath the surface, and I don’t want to think about it. I roll my shoulders, realizing how easy it would be to see her again.

Maybe the awful booze was what fueled the attraction?

There’s only one way to find out.

I fight the urge to run toward her.

But—there's always a but when my heart races—my relationships end in heartbreak, and I would hate myself for hurting her.

I can't be her Mr. November. I won’t. That’s a goddamn fact.