Season of Joy Read online

  Someone knocked on the back door. Granger turned just as his mom stepped inside with a large basket of candy in her arms.

  “Aren’t you going to dress up?” she asked, laying the basket on the counter and giving him a hug.

  “This is my costume.” Granger pulled back and gestured at his long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. “I’m going as a grumpy Christmas tree farmer.” Which wasn’t far from the truth right now.

  His mother swatted him playfully. “Are you taking the girls downtown for trick-or-treating?”

  Granger reached for a miniature candy bar in the basket. “They’d be pretty sad trick-or-treaters if we tried to go around here,” he said. The farm was expansive, stretching all the way to the border of Evergreen State Park. It wasn’t inside a neighborhood where door-to-door trick-or-treating made sense.

  His mom’s gaze landed on the painted river rocks on the counter. “Aren’t those cute?” she said, picking one up. There was a Hershey’s Kiss painted on the top. It wasn’t good enough to trick anyone, but Willow had been proud of it nevertheless. “Is this what Joy taught the kids at the library this afternoon?”

  “Yep.” Granger unwrapped his piece of candy and popped it into his mouth.

  “The girls just love her. I don’t know why she’s still single.”

  Granger avoided meeting his mom’s gaze. He knew what she was thinking. His mom wasn’t so subtle about making sure he knew exactly which females in town were available should he want to start dating again.

  “Maybe that’s what she wants,” he said, thinking about that matchmaking business card that had fallen from her purse earlier today. She’d claimed it was her aunt’s, and if Joy’s aunt was anything like his own mother, then he understood perfectly.

  “Nonsense. No woman wants to be alone,” his mother said.

  Granger bit his tongue. His ex-wife had. She’d wanted to be rid of her family so badly that she’d packed her bags soon after Willow was born. She’d been diagnosed with postpartum depression, which he’d vaguely understood at the time. What he didn’t understand was why she never returned. Willow was seven years old now. Erin’s PPD had passed, and she clearly wasn’t coming back.

  “No man wants to be alone either,” his mom continued, oblivious to his inner thoughts.

  Granger side-eyed her. “I don’t have any inkling of an idea what alone feels like. Between you and the girls and Tin”—he gestured at the sleeping sheepdog blocking half the doorway—“I can’t get a moment’s peace.”

  Tin lifted her head at the mention. She’d been a Christmas present for the girls the year that Erin had left the family. Granger had brought her home as a sort of consolation prize. She’d been the size of a football back then and had an attraction to the silvery tinsel on the tree in their living room. Abigail had named her Tinsel but over the years that had shortened to Tin.

  “Joy’s a beautiful woman,” his mom continued. “Caring too. Do you know she volunteers at Sugar Pines Community Center all the time?”

  Granger attempted to grab another piece of candy from the basket but his mom blocked him.

  “That’s for the kids,” she said. “She drives her aunt around town too because Darby can’t drive anymore.”

  Granger looked up. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Darby has epilepsy. Her sister, Joy’s mother, should be giving her rides but she’s too busy at the hospital to make time. Joy makes time though. That speaks volumes about her character. She’s loyal.”

  Granger reached for a piece of candy again. This time his mom didn’t stop him. “Enough matchmaking, okay? I need to be focused on the farm right now. At this rate, we’re not going to make any profits this year unless we can get Dad to consider bringing back the lighted hayride.”

  His mom’s smile wilted. “Good luck with that. I’ve never seen your dad so upset as when that kid got hurt on our property.”

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Granger said, unwrapping a Twizzler this time. He took a bite.

  “Well, I know that. But it’s not me you have to convince. I’d love to see the rides happen again. They were so special. It was one of the most anticipated holiday events around here.”

  Before Granger could say anything more, Willow barged into the room, dressed as a monkey wearing a pair of Minnie Mouse ears. “Nana!” she cheered. “Are you going with us?”

  Granger’s mom laughed. “No, no. I’m staying here, darling.”

  “Boo,” Willow whined. Then she reached for her father’s hand. “I’m all ready to go! I want to leave now so I can get as much candy as possible.”

  Granger inspected the costume that his mom had helped put together. If it had been left to him, Willow would probably be wearing something store-bought. “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of candy tonight, Monkey Mouse,” he teased.

  “Daddy, I’m dressed as Minnie Monkey,” she corrected.

  Abby entered the room as well. She was wearing an artist’s smock, splattered with paint, with large brushes poking out of the front pockets. She had paint splattered on her cheeks and in her hair as well. “I’m an artist,” she declared as if that weren’t obvious. “Can we stop by Miss Joy’s house so I can show her?”

  Granger made the mistake of looking at his mom when Abby said this.

  “Well, I am sure your father can arrange that. Can’t you, son?” She patted his shoulder.

  “Please, Daddy,” Willow asked. “I want Miss Joy to see my costume too!”

  Granger chuckled. He wasn’t kidding about never getting a moment’s peace. He had to admit there was some part of him that wanted to see Joy again tonight though. He’d always found her attractive. But the way she interacted with his girls and the contagious nature of her laugh reeled him in—even if he always managed to break the line. “I guess we can swing by Miss Joy’s home,” he relented. “But just for a couple minutes.”

  Chapter Two

  Joy felt like she was back in her college days. While in art school, there’d been all kinds of parties that had required her to dress up. Tonight, she was dressed as an artsy twist on a peacock. She wore royal blue from head to toe and had a headband that she’d decorated herself with a variety of brightly colored feathers, all fanned out over her dark hair. She’d done the same to the belt she was wearing around her waist. She’d gotten a little carried away with the face paint and jewels too, but this was much more toned down from those college days in her early twenties. She’d even used some hair chalk to color a few strands of her hair royal blue like her costume—and some part of her, the artist, wanted to keep the blue locks after tonight.

  The doorbell rang.

  Joy grabbed her nearly empty basket of treats and hurried to the glass door, her steps slowing when she saw the man and two little girls standing on her stoop with a large dog. Joy knew that man and those girls. She also recognized that lovable canine.

  She smiled brightly and opened the door to the chorus of “Trick or treat!” Laughing, Joy held out her basket. “Wow. If not for your dad, I might not have been able to figure out who you were. Those costumes are amazing,” she told Abby and Willow. “Minnie Monkey and a famous artist?” she asked.

  Abby looked up. “I’m supposed to be you.”

  “Oh, wow. I see the resemblance,” Joy said, glancing up at Granger. Then she reached over and patted Tin, who was also in costume tonight. The big, lovable dog wore a Wonder Woman cape draped over her back. It was tradition in the downtown area where Joy lived for trick-or-treaters to bring their dogs in tow and for those manning the doors with baskets of candy to have dog treats on hand as well.

  “How many pieces can we have?” Willow asked, digging her small hand into the basket that Joy held out.

  “Don’t be greedy,” Granger said.

  “Oh, there’s no such thing. Besides, I think the crowd is dwindling, and I don’t want to be stuck with all this sugar later. I have a sweet tooth late at night,” Joy confessed.

  “I see the tricks in there.” Willow of
fered Joy a wide gap-toothed grin. “You’re good at drawing but I can tell which pieces are just rocks.”

  Joy laughed and looked up at Granger, meeting his eyes. She wasn’t sure she’d ever stared into them at night. The colors were deeper, richer. They made her want to grab her oil paints and search for the ones that would re-create them.

  “How do you like my costume?” Granger asked, his voice deeper than she recalled.

  She lowered her gaze to scan his body—big mistake. The man was all lean muscle, sculpted like a marble statue. “What costume?” Handsome single dad? Hot Christmas tree farmer?

  Granger held open his arms. “I’m the Grinch.”

  Willow started giggling. “Daddy, the Grinch is green. You’re not green.”

  Abby smiled too. “I have paint in the pockets of my apron. I can paint you green if you want,” she offered with a mischievous grin.

  Granger held up his hands. “I don’t think so.” His phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out, checked the caller ID, and gave Joy an apologetic look. “Mind if I take this?”

  Joy shook her head. “Not at all. The girls are fine with me. Tin too. I have a treat for her inside.” Joy gestured the girls into her living room.

  “Thanks.” Granger lifted the phone to his ear and connected the call.

  Joy exhaled softly as she turned to the girls. “So have you had fun so far tonight?”

  “Yes!” Willow cheered. “I got so much candy. I can’t wait to eat it all.”

  “Not in one sitting,” Abby said. “Just a few pieces.”

  Joy smiled at the mother hen. “That’s true. Your sister knows best.” Joy reached inside a large Ziploc bag where she kept dog biscuits.

  “Do you have a dog?” Willow asked.

  “Me? No, I have a cat. Her name is Chelsea.”

  Abby looked around. “Where is she?”

  Joy looked around as well. Chelsea only came out on her own terms though. “Well, when dogs come around, she usually hides. Cats and dogs don’t always get along.”

  “We have barn cats,” Willow said. “And they don’t like Tin because she chases them.”

  Joy fed Tin a biscuit. “Well, we’ll have to make sure to keep you away from my Chelsea, then. Chelsea fights back. You’re big but she’s tough,” Joy told Tin, running her fingers through the dog’s thick fur.

  The doorbell rang, and Joy straightened and reached for the basket. “Wanna hand out the candy for me?” she asked Abby and Willow.

  In lieu of an answer, they raced toward the door, looking disappointed when they saw that it was only their father standing on the other side. He didn’t look quite as happy this time.

  “Your impression of the Grinch is getting better,” Joy commented, opening the door to him. “Was that phone call bad news?”

  He nodded and stepped inside. His gaze dropped to the girls, and Joy saw his hesitation. The news was bad enough that he didn’t want to discuss it in front of them right now.

  “Hey, girls,” Joy said, lowering her gaze, “I’ll let you in on where Chelsea is hiding if you promise to be gentle with her. Can you do that?”

  Willow looked like she was about to burst with excitement.

  “I’ll make sure she’s gentle,” Abby promised, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

  Joy nodded. “Chelsea likes to hide in my closet with all my fancy shoes. She’s a cat after my own heart…My room is all the way down the hall. Approach her slowly and let her come to you, okay?”

  The girls nodded and then hurried away.

  Then Joy turned back to Granger, her gut tightening. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “It’s Mrs. Townsend,” Granger said grimly.

  Joy’s hands immediately flew to her mouth. “Oh no. Is she…dead?”

  * * *

  “Dead?” Granger shook his head. “No. But her physician is concerned about her continuing to work. Apparently, her blood pressure is elevated, and she’s having dizzy spells. Her doctor warned her not to drive or watch small children right now.”

  “That’s pretty difficult for a nanny,” Joy pointed out.

  “Exactly. Mrs. Townsend says she’s worried that something bad could happen to the girls, and it would be all her fault.”

  Joy’s brow furrowed. “She raises a good point. I mean, wasn’t she with Willow when the farm caught fire this spring?”

  Granger shook his head. “No, but she should have been. That was one of the days she’d called out. I hate to admit I’ve had the same concerns as the doctor. But I was hoping to wait until after the farm’s busy season to figure out what I should do.”

  “When is she quitting?” Joy asked.

  Granger frowned. “She just did. She’s retiring, effective immediately.”

  Joy’s hands dropped back to her sides but her mouth remained open. “What? But the girls need her.”

  Granger pulled a hand to his forehead. “I know.” And he was worried about how the girls would react. Another female figure was leaving, without warning. Would they feel abandoned? Willow would for sure. She was still young, and lately she’d been asking a lot of questions about where her mother was.

  Joy reached out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, Granger.”

  He tried not to notice the decreasing space between them that buzzed with awareness. An awareness that he’d been actively ignoring for a long time now. “Mrs. Townsend has to take care of her health. I understand that.” He sighed. “Tomorrow starts Merry Mountain Farms’ busiest season though, and my dad can’t do the job all by himself. Mom will help as much as she can, but she and my aunts run the cider house at Christmas…I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

  Joy gestured to the couch. “How about I make you a cup of tea? I know it’s not a solution but sometimes it helps to sit back and relax. That always helps me, at least.”

  “Tea sounds great, actually.” Granger walked to the couch and plopped down. Tin immediately moved over to his knee, laying her large, furry head right on it. Granger wasn’t sure if Tin was sensing his distress and trying to comfort him or if she was taking advantage of the opportunity to get a little scratch behind the ears.

  “Sugar?” Joy called from the kitchen at his back.

  “Yes, please. If the kids are getting sugared up tonight, I might as well too, right?”

  Joy laughed and headed back to him a few minutes later with two mugs in her hand. She put his down on the coffee table in front of him and brought hers to her mouth. “I’m afraid the tea will counteract any sugaring up. It’s chamomile. It’ll soothe whatever ails you.”

  Granger side-eyed her. “I seriously doubt that. But if that’s true, I’ll be coming back to your place for more.”

  The air electrified between them.

  Joy looked away and continued talking. “Well, your girls are the sweetest. I’m sure you can find someone else to watch them with no problem. I mean, it’s just after school hours, right?”

  Granger nodded. “Until mid-December when they get out for the holidays. Then I might need full days as well…Are you looking for a job by chance? The girls adore you. And it’s just after school, like you said.”

  Joy reared back, her expression twisting. “I have a job. I’m a working artist. And I don’t take care of kids anymore.”

  “But you could,” Granger said. “It’s starting to get cold outside, and I noticed you walked to the library earlier today. Your car is acting up again, I’m guessing. The money would help.”

  “My car is already in the shop. I pick it up on Monday.” She stared at him for a long moment.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask. But this would be temporary. I just need to get through the season.” Granger hadn’t touched his herbal tea yet. He reached for it and took a sip, needing something to occupy his hands. If Joy turned him down, there’d be hours of interviews and decisions. And what if the girls didn’t like who he picked? They already loved Joy. And more importantly, he trusted her.

  Joy continued to stare at hi
m, her expression unreadable. Not that he’d ever known what a woman was thinking. “I’m sorry, Granger. But I’m busy too. I run my Etsy store and teach classes at the library and the community center. And all my spare time goes to creating my own artwork. I would love to help you out but I’m afraid I can’t.”

  Granger’s disappointment came in as quickly as his excitement over the idea. Joy would have been the perfect solution. But now he had a big problem. Mrs. Townsend had retired the day before the tree farm officially opened for the year. And this season was especially important because it could very well make or break the family business.

  He blew out a breath and sipped his tea. “I understand. I’ll figure something out. Maybe the girls could stay at the cider house with my mom during the hours they’re home and while I’m working.”

  Joy nodded. “That sounds like a plan. It even sounds fun.”

  Granger lifted a brow. “I was a kid growing up on that farm once. It’s not as fun as one might think.”

  The corners of Joy’s mouth twitched in a smile. “I was the lonely latchkey kid because my parents were always working at the hospital. That’s not much fun either.”

  Granger tried not to take offense. He’d never pegged himself as the kind of parent who hired a nanny but he’d never planned on the mother of his children bailing on him either. “I’m always around, and as soon as I step inside the house, my time is the girls’.”

  “Oh, I know you’re a wonderful father. I wasn’t trying to say that having a nanny was wrong. I’m just saying that whatever solution you find for the girls will be fine. No place or person is perfect.”

  But Joy would have been perfect, in his opinion.

  “I’ll ask around for you if you’d like,” she offered.

  He took another sip of his tea and then placed the cup on the coffee table in front of him before standing. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  Joy stood as well, her gaze fluttering to meet his as they stood face-to-face in her dimly lit living room. She tried to take a step backward but Tin had moved to stand behind her, blocking her path. Granger reached out to steady her.