N. Walters: Jackson’s Jewel

“I don’t think your brother wants a housekeeper.” Her words were blunt, but Emerald knew that there was no polite way to phrase it.

Erin laughed. “He does, but he’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

They walked up three steps that led to the wraparound porch. Emerald took the time to have a better look at the house. It was a snug, two-story farmhouse that looked to be in good repair.

Erin opened the back door and ushered her inside. “I got married last year and moved out. I live just next door, by the way, so I’m close if you run into any problems.”

“Good to know.” Emerald took in the state of the kitchen. She had her work cut out for her.

“I know it’s a mess,” Erin cut into her thoughts. “Jackson’s working the place by himself now, and this time of the year he’s busy from dawn to dusk. Now that I’ve got my own home, and I run my own blueberry farm as well, I just don’t have time to help out.”

“Not to mention you’ve got a husband,” Emerald added dryly. She’d seen the way the big man had stared at his wife.

Erin chuckled. “There is that. Abel does keep me busy. And now that there’s a baby on the way, I just can’t manage it all.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Erin rubbed her stomach with her hand. Emerald tried to find some evidence of pregnancy but couldn’t see any. “I’m almost three months along and I’m not doing so well in the mornings. Anyway,” she continued briskly, “my brother needs a housekeeper.”

“I have to agree with you there.” The kitchen was lovely with its hardwood floor and large wood trestle table. The cabinets were a crisp white and the walls were the same color as a café au lait. It felt welcoming, homey. Except for the pile of broken glass on the floor and counter.

Erin noticed her staring at the broken dishes. “Jackson had a slight accident just before you drove up.”

Emerald nodded, not asking what had happened even though she was dying to know.

Erin grabbed a broom out of the utility closet and began to sweep the glass into a neat pile. “The place had gone downhill this past month. I’ve been busy with my own business and Jackson’s been flat out in the fields. He also grows alfalfa to sell to local farmers, along with running the apple orchards. It’s a lot of work and he does the bulk of it himself. Our brother, Nathan, helps out when he can, but he’s married now and living in town. He also works as a deputy sheriff, so his time is limited. You’ll probably meet him and his wife, Carly, in a day or two.”

Emerald tried to commit all the names to memory. “So what am I responsible for beside the house and meals?”

Erin leaned the broom against the counter. The glass was in a neat pile ready to be removed. “That’s pretty much it. Once you get the house back in order, it will be more maintenance than anything else. Jackson’s not a real messy soul, he’s just been too busy to cope. He’s also a guy, so he doesn’t always notice that the laundry is piling up or that the living room is dusty.”

Emerald nodded as she followed Erin into the living room. The room was neat but dusty. Again, it was a comfortable room, but a decidedly masculine one. A floor-to-ceiling wall unit dominated one wall. It was filled with books, stereo equipment, a flat-screen television and a DVD player. A stone fireplace stood in the center of another wall, the dark wood mantle filled with family photos. The furniture was a comfortable mix of old and new. The leather sofa was obviously new, but the faded brown easy chair was not. A book was facedown on the coffee table as if waiting for its owner to come back. She was surprised to see it was a true-crime book by well-known author A. B. Garrett.

“That’s your husband,” she blurted out.

Erin smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Yes, it is. That’s his latest true-crime book.”

“Wow. You must be really proud of him.”

“I am. But I’m also glad that he’s switching to writing mysteries.”

“That’s a big change.” Emerald knew how hard it was to switch, even within a profession where you were already well-known. Especially then. Her parents hadn’t been able to make the switch when music changed in the Seventies and had retired instead.

“It is, but Abel can do it. Now, as for meals,” Erin continued as she showed Emerald the office and laundry room before leading her upstairs. “Breakfast needs to be on the table by six—Jackson usually leaves the house before seven and comes back for lunch at twelve. Soup and sandwiches are fine for then. Supper is at six in the evening. That gives him time to get home and grab a shower. He’ll want something substantial then. I’ll leave you a list of meals that he likes.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” Emerald ran her hand over the smooth wood banister as she climbed the stairs.

“No problem. This is Jackson’s room.” They stopped in front of a large bedroom. The bed was unmade and there was a small pile of clothes in one corner.

Emerald could just imagine Jackson coming in after a long, hard day’s work, stripping off his sweaty clothing and tossing it aside.

Naked, he moved about the room and then stretched out across his bed. His cock swelled and his muscles rippled as he gripped his length and pumped his hand slowly up and down.

He smiled at her and beckoned her forward. “Like what you see?”

She smiled back at him as she licked her lips. “I certainly do.” Seductively, she stripped off her jeans and shirt, all the while watching him as he continued to work his hand up and down his erection. Naked, she climbed up onto the bed and crawled forward until she was sitting between his spread legs. Cream slipped down her inner thighs as she cupped his testicles in her hand. His skin felt hot. He moaned as she scraped her nails gently over him.

Bending forward, she licked the tip of his cock, tasting the salt of his flesh. She made a small sound in the back of her throat.

“Are you all right?”

Emerald jerked when a hand clasped her arm. What in the world was she doing? This was no time for a sexual fantasy featuring a man she just met. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a hard few weeks.”

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Emerald could see the concern in Erin’s face and felt her new job slipping away. “Absolutely.” She forced herself back to the task at hand. She needed this job. Her libido could darn well take a backseat. She’d never had any trouble concentrating on work before. It had to be the stress she’d been under. Nothing more.

She could see that Erin still looked concerned, so she summoned up a smile. “Why don’t you show me where I’ll be staying and I’ll get my things brought inside. Then I can start on the kitchen.”

Relief passed over Erin’s face. “Your room is downstairs off the kitchen. It’s a large bedroom with its own bathroom. It was the original housekeeper’s room. There hasn’t been a housekeeper here for about twenty years though, so it hasn’t been used.” Before Emerald could groan over the probable state of that room, Erin grinned. “But don’t worry, we’ve always used it as a guestroom, so it’s been kept up. It just needs a good dusting. The sheets and towels are upstairs in the hall closet.”

“Got it.”

“You should have several free hours every day once the place is back in order. And, as I said on the phone, Sunday is your day off. Saturday, you just need to make something and leave it for Jackson’s lunch and the rest of the day is yours as well. The job only pays two hundred a week because room and board is included.”

“That’s fine.” In fact, it was perfect. She didn’t foresee needing to spend much money over the next few weeks. She wasn’t planning on leaving the farm unless she absolutely had to. She could use the phone here to call her sisters, rather than use her cell phone. It would all work out. It had to.