“No kidding.” Actually, the size of the tiny town was one of the things that had drawn Tanner to this part of Northern California. Cabot Valley was only a couple of hours by car away from Sacramento on one side and Lake Tahoe on the other. He could have city when he needed it, but he could be left the hell alone otherwise.
He hadn’t even been into town since he moved in. He ordered groceries from the store and had them delivered. When he did leave the house, he didn’t bother buying gas in Cabot Valley because he didn’t want the locals getting used to seeing him around. He didn’t want to be drawn into conversations that could lead to people dropping by his house just to be neighborly. He wasn’t looking to make friends. He just wanted to be left alone to do his work in peace.
At least, that had been the plan.
So far, that wasn’t happening.
“All I’m saying is give it a while,” Mitchell told him.
“Settle in. See if you can’t find a way to work around this problem before you start making enemies.”
Scowling, Tanner silently admitted he didn’t want enemies any more than he wanted to make friends. He just wanted some damn peace and quiet.
“Fine,” he snapped. “But tell me this. You won’t get rid of the housekeeper and you can’t do anything about the damn tree farm. Why is it haven’t I fired you?”
“Because I’m the only person you know who’ll tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not.”
“Good point. I’m hanging up now.”
“So am I. And Tanner…be nice.”
He hit the off button and frowned. Even irritated, Tanner could admit that Mitchell was right. He did appreciate the truth. Heaven knew he’d been lied to enough as a kid to last him a lifetime. His mother always had a ready story handy to explain why she couldn’t be at his school for a meeting or why she had to leave him with the housekeeper for a month or two while she flew off to Gstaad or Florence or wherever her latest lover had lived.
Instantly, he pushed those old memories away. He wasn’t a kid anymore and his childhood had nothing to do with the here and now. The point was, Mitchell was right. And outside of his family—innumerable cousins and half brothers—there were very few people Tanner trusted. Mitchell was one of them.
As he set the phone down, he leaned back, closed his eyes and just for a moment, reveled in the quiet. No Christmas songs. No cars racing along the road. No kids shrieking in his front yard.
No sound from downstairs, either. What was she doing down there? What kind of housekeeper was that quiet? Quietly, he went downstairs, and stopped just outside the kitchen door. Something smelled incredible and his stomach grumbled in anticipation. Tanner was so used to just nuking a frozen dinner in the microwave—it had been a long time since he’d actually been hungry. Hard to find appreciation for flash frozen pot pies or Salisbury steaks.
He pushed the door open and stood silently in the doorway. There were mixing bowls in the sink, water gushing into them and flour was scattered across the counter making it look as if it had snowed in there. A cupboard door was hanging open, and a bowl full of fruit was on the counter. His gaze shifted to where his new housekeeper was dancing over to the table and setting two places while humming—off-key—and he sighed when he recognized “The Little Drummer Boy.” Another Christmas song. Was this whole town nuts for Christmas? Shaking his head, he walked to the sink and shut the water off.
Instantly, she spun around, hand clapped to her chest. In the next second, Ivy shot him a near blinding smile.
“Wow. You move quietly. Scared me. Next time ring a bell or something, okay?”
“If you’d remember to turn off the water, you would have heard me.”
One of her eyebrows lifted. “I would have shut it off. I’m soaking the bowls.”
He ignored that, reached over and closed the cupboard door. “I thought you were here to clean. The kitchen looks like a bomb went off in here.”
She just looked at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re wound a little tight?”
“Just recently, actually.”
“Not surprised,” she said, then shrugged. “But that’s okay.”
“Thanks so much.”
“No problem. We’ve all got our quirks.” She turned away, grabbed a dishcloth and swiped up the spilled flour. “And as to the mess in here, I was busy. Besides, you have to actually make something dirty before you can clean it.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said wryly, then sniffed the air. “Though whatever you’ve been doing smells good.”
She smiled slowly and the curve of her mouth tickled that dimple into life in her cheek. A buzz quickened inside Tanner and he had to battle it into submission.
“I guess it would, after living on frozen dinners for two months,” she said. Walking to the stove, she swept a spoon through a pot of something that smelled delicious. His stomach rumbled in appreciation.
“What is that?”
“Soup.”
The soup he made never smelled that good, he thought and told himself that maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. She seemed to be good at the job and in her defense, he really hadn’t heard her down here at all. Still, he hadn’t been able to concentrate just knowing she was in the house.
Then his stomach made its opinion clear again and he wondered if there wasn’t some way they could make this work. “We really haven’t talked about this job,” he said.
“Except for the fact that you don’t want me here, no,” she agreed, smiling.
Did she smile over everything? he wondered, then shook that thought away as irrelevant. “I admit, having someone in the house while I’m working is problematic. I like it quiet.”
“Yeah, I guessed that much.” She turned to a cupboard, got down two bowls and set them on the counter. “Personally, I don’t know how you can stand it. Too much quiet can make you crazy.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said dryly, thinking of all the interruptions he’d put up with since moving to the supposedly quiet countryside.
She glanced at him and grinned. “Was that sarcasm?”
“I believe so,” he admitted, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb.
“I like it,” she said moving to the cooking island to pop a fresh loaf of bread out of its pan and onto a rack. “Proves you do have a sense of humor. So what do you want to talk about?”