A Winter’s Tale by Carrie Elks (4)

Adam stared out of the windscreen, concentrating on the road ahead while trying to ignore the girl shivering quietly beside him. She was British – he’d guessed enough from her accent – but apart from that he had no idea how she’d ended up stranded on the mountain road. Or why she was heading for Cutler’s Gap, for that matter. Glancing to his right, he caught sight of her soaking jeans clinging to her thighs, trying not to notice the way they were slim and lithe. The ridiculous brown suede shoes she’d been sliding all over the road in, cute yet completely inappropriate, were dripping water on the floor of his truck.

There weren’t a whole lot of pretty girls in Cutler’s Gap. Wasn’t a whole lot of anything, really.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked, to kill the silence as much as anything else.

‘Kitty,’ she replied. Her voice was hoarse and low, like a winter wind.

‘What’s your business in Cutler’s Gap, Kitty?’

Adam glanced at her thighs again – he couldn’t help himself. It had been a long time since he’d seen legs as shapely as hers. Jeez, he needed to get some control. The last thing he wanted was to show any interest in a vapid blonde. He’d met enough of those when he’d been in LA, and they’d all been the same: giggly, friendly and hardly a brain cell between them.

She must have noticed his scrutiny, wriggling in her seat to inch away from him.

To his satisfaction, she had no luck.

‘I’m here for a job,’ she finally replied.

Adam laughed, short and sharp. ‘No offence, ma’am, but that’s a crock of shit. There’s no work in Cutler’s Gap. None that I’m aware of, anyway.’

Kitty turned to look at him, lips thin with anger. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’

The girl was pretty in that overly processed Californ-i-a kind of way. If it wasn’t for her clipped accent he might have described her as All-American, but her streaked blonde hair and light tan obviously came from a bottle. Sitting there with her thin jacket and tight jeans, she was the kind of sexy little thing he used to have a thing for.

Now, of course, he knew better. He just needed to remind his body of that.

‘No, ma’am, I’m not calling you a liar, I’m telling you there are no businesses here. No mines, no mills, only a few run-down houses and a convenience store, plus a bar that’s seen better days.’

That was no exaggeration, either. One of the things Adam loved best about Cutler’s Gap was the fact that nothing changed. No one came, no one went, and nobody wanted to know his business.

Well, almost nobody.

‘I’m not coming to work in a mill,’ Kitty said, her nose wrinkling with disdain. ‘I’m a nanny, if you really want to know, and I’m here to take care of a kid.’

Adam said nothing, still staring ahead at the snow-covered road. Unlike Kitty’s rental car, his truck was prepared for the winter, with snow chains on the tyres and an engine tuned for the conditions.

‘I work for Everett Klein,’ she continued. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He’s staying with his parents for the holidays, up in the mountains.’

‘I’ve heard of him,’ Adam mumbled, his stomach dropping at the mention of Everett’s name. He hadn’t realised they were flying a nanny in. That’s what he got for avoiding his brother like the plague. As soon as Everett and his wife had arrived – in a huge black Escalade that was totally out of place in the mountains – Adam had holed up in his cabin down by the lake, deciding to wait their visit out. He’d had enough of them when he’d been in LA, and their presence in Cutler’s Gap was making him furious. A good reason to keep away until they’d all left town.

He wasn’t planning on changing his mind now, so when he reached the gates of the big house he pulled the truck to a stop and put the parking brake on. The sooner he got rid of this girl the better.

‘You can get out here, the house is just around the bend,’ Adam said sharply, pointing at the drive, recently cleared of snow. When Kitty hesitated, he leaned across her and pulled the passenger door open. ‘Don’t worry, the walk won’t kill you.’

‘But it’s dark out there.’ She stared at him for a moment before twisting around and climbing out of the truck. Before she slammed the door shut, she leaned towards him, anger flashing in her eyes. ‘I’d like to thank you for your help,’ she began, waving him off when he tried to reply. ‘But I can’t. Because even though you look like a gentleman, you’re clearly anything but.’

With that she gave a huff and turned on her heel, walking determinedly along the driveway. Adam watched her go, his lips twitching when she stumbled. The way her taut calf muscles flexed beneath the clinging denim when she tried to stay upright didn’t escape his notice.

They were just legs. Long, sexy legs. The kind of legs that could drive a man crazy.

For a moment he considered getting out and offering her some help, but then he remembered who she worked for and nixed that idea. She may have been pretty – but her boss was a bastard that Adam never wanted to see again. So he started up the truck and drove down the winding track that led to his ramshackle cabin, leaving all thoughts of the soaking wet blonde far behind him.

 

Kitty muttered angrily to herself for the entire walk up the driveway, still fuming over the bearded man and the way he’d treated her. OK, so at least he’d stopped to help, and he’d offered her a lift to the Kleins’ house, but he didn’t need to be so rude about it. As for not taking her right to the house in the dark, especially when he knew she was wearing these shoes, that was nothing but cruel.

Just as well she would never see his stupid face again, even if she’d liked what she’d seen. What a miserable, angry, handsome man he was. Why were the good-looking ones always such arseholes?

When she reached the stone steps that led to the porch-covered entrance, Kitty bent down and pulled her wet shoes off, the cold air whistling around her icy feet. Her bare soles pressed against the cold floor as she stood in front of the huge front door.

According to Mia Klein’s breathless monologue a few days earlier, the house was over a hundred years old. Purchased by Everett’s parents in the early 1950s, they’d lovingly restored the dilapidated colonial building, making it into a home for their growing family.

Now, though, it was just the two of them, along with the old woman who took care of the house. Mia had explained that the family took the trip east every Christmas, but this year their plans had been hampered by the older Mrs Klein’s recent accident – she’d slipped on the icy steps and had broken her hip. That was why Kitty’s presence was so necessary; Everett and Mia had a lot of meetings and events to attend in nearby Washington, DC, and usually his mother looked after Jonas for them. But that plan wouldn’t work without her being able to walk.

Kitty hadn’t asked whether the Kleins had thought about curtailing their social engagements as a result of the accident – it wasn’t her business, after all, and this unfortunate incident might just turn into a good thing for her. She really couldn’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

No, her job wasn’t to question. It was to look after Jonas so well that Everett Klein wouldn’t think twice about giving her a great write-up. Or even an internship. Now that would be nice.

Wiggling her thawing toes, she reached up for the doorbell. Pressing it twice, she could hear the chimes reverberate through the hallway and beyond. A shadow cast across the door, and when it opened, a smiling lady was standing there.

‘Miss Shakespeare? I’m Annie Drewer, the housekeeper.’ Annie pulled the door wider, gesturing for Kitty to come in. ‘I didn’t hear your car.’

Kitty stepped across the threshold. The warm air hit her skin immediately, stripping away the frozen chill. She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the heat.

‘I had an accident,’ she told the housekeeper, sliding her bag from her shoulder. ‘The car’s a write-off, I had to leave it. I need to call the rental company and arrange for it to be picked up.’

‘Oh my dear, are you all right?’ Annie pulled Kitty at arm’s length, looking her up and down. ‘It can get so dangerous out there in the winter.’

Her kind concern brought tears to Kitty’s eyes. ‘I killed a deer,’ she said, her voice wobbling. ‘Then some horrible man drove me here, but he made me walk up the driveway in these.’ She pointed to the misshapen loafers still grasped in her left hand. ‘And now I’ve remembered that all of my clothes and my other shoes are still in that stupid car and I’ve absolutely nothing to wear.’ With that, Kitty started to cry. The tears were unexpected, surprising her as much as they surprised Annie. Kitty wasn’t one to cry at just anything, but it wasn’t often she killed a poor deer, then got it in the neck from an arrogant bastard.

The woman clicked her tongue, pulling Kitty close, rubbing her back in reassurance. ‘There, there, let Annie make you a warm cup of coffee.’ Putting her arm around Kitty’s shoulders, the housekeeper led her down the long tiled hallway. ‘There’s a fire in the kitchen, you can take the chill off your bones there. Soon you’ll be feeling as right as rain.’

‘You’re English.’ Kitty’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. Though Annie’s accent was mellowed by years of living in West Virginia, she still couldn’t disguise her roots.

‘Born and bred,’ Annie agreed as they walked into the kitchen. ‘I came over for a year in 1970, met a boy and never went back.’

The kitchen was warm and spacious, the windows facing out to the blue-black skyline . Kitty stared out of the glass, looking at the floodlit lawn which led to a dark wooded area that faded to nothing. The house was built on the side of the mountain, where the land sloped down to Cutler’s Gap. Following Kitty’s gaze, Annie told her that there was a big lake in the foothills – a large expanse of water where the Klein children had all learned how to swim.

‘I’ve arranged for your cases to be picked up,’ Annie said, sliding a steaming mug of coffee in front of Kitty. ‘And I’ve let the younger Mrs Klein know you’re here. She and the rest of the family are at the hospital, visiting with Mary. She’s the older Mrs Klein. She should be coming home soon.’

Kitty took a sip of the hot, bitter liquid. The heat radiated through her as soon as she swallowed, defrosting her from her stomach upwards.

‘Is Jonas there, too?’ Kitty asked.

Annie clicked her tongue again. ‘Yes he is. I told them it’s no place for a boy, especially one as rambunctious as that one, but after he fell into the lake the day before yesterday, the younger Mrs Klein won’t let him out of her sight.’

‘He fell in the lake?’ Kitty repeated, alarmed. ‘Was he alone?’ A seven-year-old boy shouldn’t be left alone near an ice-cold lake. The thought of him being anywhere near it made her shiver. It may have been a year since she’d been in charge of any children, but even Kitty knew you kept an extra-strong eye on them wherever there was water.

‘Yes he was, and he would have frozen to death, too, if his uncle hadn’t found him. Luckily for us he was sent home with nothing more than a flea in his ear, but I shudder to think what could have happened.’

The two women exchanged glances, and Kitty sensed that Annie could be an ally.

‘Thank goodness for his uncle,’ Kitty whispered, trying to ignore the panic fluttering in her stomach at the thought of Jonas diving into the lake. ‘Is he staying here too?’

‘Not a chance, not while Everett is here. He won’t have anything to do with…’ Annie’s voice trailed off as the front door slammed, and voices echoed in the hallway. A boy’s high-pitched yell, and a woman’s soft drawl, followed by two low-pitched masculine voices.

The new arrivals walked into the kitchen, still talking rapidly. Everett Klein came first, followed by an old man who could only be his father, both of them sharing a similarly shaped nose. A young boy followed him, his blond hair lightly covered in snow. He stared at Kitty, but held himself back as if he was shy. She smiled at him, trying to make herself seem as friendly as possible.

‘Oh, Kitty, you’re here.’ Mia Klein swept into the room, brushing the snow off her shoulders. ‘I was expecting you hours ago.’

‘I had an accident —’

‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ She blinked a few times, as though snowflakes had stuck to her eyelashes. ‘Jonas, this is Kitty, she’s here to look after you.’ Was that relief Kitty heard in her voice?

Jonas’s eyes widened. Kitty stood and walked over to him, squatting down to make herself his height. ‘Hi, Jonas, how are you doing?’

‘OK.’ He gave her the briefest of smiles.

‘I’m here for the next few weeks. We’re going to have a lot of fun,’ Kitty told him, feeling sorry for the poor kid. He looked so perplexed. Hadn’t Mia even told him she was coming? ‘Are you excited for Christmas?’

Jonas nodded without speaking.

She gave him the biggest smile. ‘Me too. I’ve got lots of exciting things planned for us. I think we can make this the best Christmas ever.’

He looked a little happier at that, the wary expression leaving his face.

‘As long as you can stop him from jumping in the lake again, we’re all good.’ Everett’s deep voice filled the kitchen.

Jonas’s eyes widened, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.’

Mia stepped forward, running her red-taloned fingers through her son’s hair. ‘Of course you didn’t, darling, but you shouldn’t have gone near the the lake without us.’ Glancing up at Kitty, Mia gave her an appraising look. ‘That’s why Kitty’s here. She’ll keep an eye on you when we can’t.’

Everett half coughed, half laughed. Kitty glanced up at him. He was staring at her with an appraising gaze, as though he was trying to work her out. Though it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him where he’d been when his son almost drowned, she bit the thought down. She wanted to impress the man, not enrage him.

‘Can we still go to the Harville Christmas parade?’ Jonas asked, his face lighting up. ‘Oma usually takes me but she can’t walk at all. Mom says she’s gonna be laid up all Christmas.’

This time Kitty didn’t bother looking at Mia for confirmation. Instead she cupped Jonas’s frozen pink cheeks, her palms luxuriating in their chubbiness. He was a good-looking child – the perfect combination of his parents’ genes, and his clothes were expensive and well made. Yet she couldn’t help but feel sorry for this boy who had everything he could want except his parents’ attention.

‘Of course we can. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’