After closing the top drawer of the dresser that now held her underwear and bras, Paige slid the two empty suitcases under the bed. The ivory, ruffled bed skirt hid them from view. Pivoting around, she took in her surroundings once more. The walk-in closet could hold a lot more clothes than she’d brought with her. If things worked out, she’d have Marcella ship the rest of her stuff.

Suddenly thirsty, Paige wandered out to the kitchen where Arianna had her school books spread out on the table. Next to her elbow was a glass with only a mouthful of milk left in it and a plate with a few slices of an apple on it. Arianna was nibbling on a piece of the fruit while frowning at the open book in front of her.

Paige stopped beside her. “What’s wrong, Arianna?”

The little girl sighed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “It’s my math homework. We have to add up the pennies, dimes, and nickels, and I don’t know if I got them right or not.”

“Would you like me to take a look at it or do you want to try to do it again?”

Arianna shrugged and turned the book, so Paige could see it better. “You can take a look, but don’t tell me the answers. Mrs. Dwyer says we’re supposed to figure it out on our own. Just tell me if I got them right or wrong.”

“Okay.” She scanned the eight math problems and the penciled-in answers on the page. “Hmm. Well, you did very good on the first six, but you have to try the last two again, and then I’ll check them.”

“Okay.”

While her new charge went back to work, Paige opened the commercial-sized refrigerator, and the pantry beside it, to find there was plenty of food and drinks to choose from. With the number of people she’d be cooking breakfast and the occasional dinner for, she was glad to have a fully-stocked fridge and pantry. The stove and oven were also larger than usual for a residential kitchen, and she found herself looking forward to cooking for a big group again. She and Myles had often invited their friends over, and she’d cooked for them instead of having the meals catered. While she’d never be a renowned chef, she did enjoy experimenting and creating new culinary masterpieces.

Choosing an apple, she closed the door to the fridge and leaned against the counter while she took a few bites. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen had been decorated in warm and cozy colors. A backdoor led to the porch that wrapped around the east side and front of the house. Paige imagined herself sitting in one of the several rocking chairs she could see, relaxing and watching an evening sunset. That was one of the things she’d miss the most about California—the sun setting into the Pacific Ocean, painting the sky red, orange, yellow, and every shade in between. The multi-million-dollar, Torrance Beach home she and Myles had lived in had been within walking distance of the ocean, and she loved to sit and behold the view as day became night.

“I’m done, Paige. I think I got them right this time.”

She stepped over to the table and scanned the page again. “Yup, you did. Very good. Do you have more homework to do?”

“Uh-uh. Here’s my social studies and science homework for you to look at. I finished everything except for my reading, and I do that at night with Daddy before I go to bed.”

Once Paige approved the rest of the homework, which was simple enough for a first-grader to process, Arianna put her books and papers back into her knapsack. “Can I watch TV now? My favorite show is on.”

“Your daddy said you could, so yes.” From Arianna’s chattering earlier in the car, Paige had figured out that Shane was “Daddy” and the yet unseen Tucker was “Papa.” “Which show is your favorite?”

With Paige following, the little girl skipped into the family room. “The man with the happy, little trees.”

Her brow furrowed. She had no idea what was on nowadays for six-year-olds, so she was clueless about a show with “happy, little trees,” especially since she rarely watched TV herself. Paige preferred to read and had three Kindles loaded with books she’d read or was planning to. “What man?”

Arianna picked up the remote from the couch and pointed it toward the TV. “Mr. Bob. I like him. He’s nice.”

When the show came on, Paige had to chuckle. She’d forgotten all about Bob Ross and his gentle voice as he showed millions of watchers how to create beautiful paintings with “happy, little trees” during a half-hour show. Her father had loved watching Ross’s The Joy of Painting, even though he’d never attempted to paint anything himself. “Do you paint, Arianna?”

“Nope. I just like watching.”

Paige glanced around, getting a better look of the room she’d passed through earlier. The sitting area for the entertainment center consisted of an L-shaped couch, two recliners, an ottoman, a coffee table, and several smaller side tables. From the books, newspapers, and other items scattered about, it was clear the family spent a lot of time in there. On the wall behind one part of the couch were four floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled to the brim with books in a variety of genres, a few tchotchkes, an assortment of framed photographs, and a thin layer of dust. Spotting a pad and pen on one of the tables, Paige snatched them up and made a list of things she would need to do on a regular basis around the house, separating them into days of the week, and other things that would need to be done occasionally. She made notes to ask her two new employers about certain things, such as if they wanted her to do their laundry or just Arianna’s. Some people, Paige included, felt weird about other people cleaning their unmentionables. Her bras and underwear were the only things that had been off limits to her own housekeeper Myles had insisted on hiring.

How things have changed. Not that she thought being a housekeeper was beneath her, but Paige wondered what her so-called friends, who’d dropped her the moment her husband had been arrested, would think about her new job. Well, it didn’t matter what they thought. She’d only been in Hazard Falls for a few hours, but she was already feeling comfortable there. It made her reflect on if she’d ever actually fit in with the elite crowd she’d rubbed elbows with over the eight years she’d been married. Although, she’d loved having her own business and not having to worry about a budget when it came to most purchases, there had always been a . . . stiffness, of sorts, to the people and environment she’d been immersed in.

Pondering what she was missing from her growing list, Paige eyed some of the photographs on the shelves beside her. There were pictures of Arianna, Shane, and another man who had to be his husband, Tucker. But in some of the them, when the little girl was much younger, there was a woman in the photos. That was probably the surrogate they’d used to have a child, Paige thought, because Arianna was the spitting image of her. The woman clearly knew the men well, since her arms were around both in several of the photos. Maybe a relative or close friend? And where was she now?

“That’s my mommy.”

Paige smiled at Arianna who’d wandered over. “She’s very pretty. You look just like her.”

“Thank you. A lot of people say that. I miss her, though. She’s in heaven with my cat, Shadow.”

Squatting down, Paige brushed the little girl’s hair back from her face. “I’m sorry to hear that. My mom and dad are in heaven too. I miss them very much. But you know what?” She pointed to the left side of her chest. “They’re always here in my heart where I can love them forever.”

“That’s what Daddy says when we watch the videos Mommy made before she went to heaven. She reads stories to me in them and just talks about things we did so I don’t forget them or her. Papa doesn’t like watching the videos though—they make him sad.”

The surrogate was probably a relative on Tucker’s side then. “Well, everyone grieves in their own way. And he has you and your daddy to love and make him happy, right?”

“Right,” Arianna said with a firm nod.

“Ahem,” a deep rumble sounded from behind Paige. She almost yelped in surprise as she stood and spun around, not having heard anyone else come into the house.

Holy hell, the man was gorgeous. This had to be Tucker Wilson. She recognized him from the photos, which hadn’t done him justice. Where his husband was tall, dark and handsome, this man was a brown-haired god—although a broody one, if his scowl was any indication. He could have been a Viking if his several-inches-long hair was blonde and this was more than ten centuries ago.

Paige realized she was gaping when he raised an eyebrow at her, and she gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself the man was married and gay.

“Hi, Papa!” Arianna launched herself toward her father, who managed to open his arms in time to catch her.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“This is Paige. She knows how to make butterscotch pancakes!”

“Really?” He shifted her onto his left hip, holding her in place with one arm.

“Uh-huh. Paige, Papa likes butterscotch as much as I do. Daddy likes chocolate better though.”

Paige smiled. “Well, I’ll have to remember to get both kinds of chips, so everyone can have what they like. Hi, you’re obviously Tucker. It’s nice to meet you.”

She stepped forward and held out her hand. Tucker hesitated, his gaze scanning her face. What he was searching for was beyond her. Paige almost dropped her hand before he reached out and shook it, then released it so he could set his daughter back onto the floor. “It’s nice to meet you too, Paige.” His tone was flat, and she got the impression he wasn’t all that thrilled about her being there, despite his words. He glanced toward the kitchen. “Did Shane mention dinner?”

“Um . . . yes. He said something about going to . . . um . . . sorry, I forgot the name of the restaurant.”

“Daddy said we were going to Bar None for dinner, Papa.” Arianna twirled around in several circles as she spoke.

A small frown appeared on Tucker’s face again, and Paige quickly said, “If that’s a problem, there’s plenty of food in the refrigerator and pantry. I can whip up something for dinner, so we don’t have to go out.”

Before Tucker could respond, Arianna stopped spinning and glared up at him. “But I want to go out, Papa. Daddy promised.”

His gaze fell to his daughter, and after a moment, he tugged on one of her pigtails. “We’ll go out, sweetheart. Daddy was right to suggest it. It would be rude to ask Paige to cook her first night here.”

“Yay!” She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. “Will you dance with me if our song comes on?”

“Of course. Don’t I always?”

“Yup.”

Tucker glanced at the clock on the satellite dish box in the entertainment center and then back at Paige. “I’m sure Shane said we’d leave for dinner at 6:00, so I have time to get some more work done.” He stroked his daughter’s head. “I’ll be back in a little bit, sweetheart. Turn off the TV and read or play ’til it’s time to go.”

“Okay, Papa.”

His mouth was flat as he nodded at Paige, before turning around without another word, leaving her standing there. She heard the backdoor slam shut, probably a little harder than necessary. She didn’t know what Tucker’s problem with her was—she got the impression he didn’t want her there—and Paige hoped she wasn’t going to cause a rift between the two men. Not only did she really need the job with all but one of her bank and investment accounts still frozen, but she had nowhere else to go. She couldn’t go back to California, not with the press and people who blamed her for her husband’s crimes hounding her, nor did she want to go back to her hometown. There was nobody left there for her anymore. She’d been an only child and had lost touch with friends from her youth after permanently moving to the West Coast.

“Come on, Paige. I’ll show you our chickens.”

The corners of her mouth ticked upward, as she let the little girl take her hand and lead her to the backdoor. It was time to start over again. Hopefully, she could convince her new bosses they needed her as much as she needed them.