Rochelle Alers - Her Wickham Falls Seal

“So the pretty lady has age jokes,” he countered. “I thought it was women who were touchy about revealing their age.”

“Not me. I celebrate every birthday all month long, and sometimes even longer.”

“That’s because you were born in the shortest month of the year.”

“Don’t hate on February because it’s a month we celebrate. Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast Day, Super Bowl Sunday, Valentine’s Day, National Gumdrop Day, Cherry Pie Day, National Margarita Day and, of course, Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthdays, and so many others too numerous to name.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“I put up calendars on my bulletin board with all of the bizarre and unique holidays for each month and I’ll talk about it for five minutes.”

“You talk to children about margaritas?”

“Not the cocktail but the plant. I show them pictures of the blue agave plant, tell them where it’s cultivated, how tall it can grow and that the high production of sugars, mostly fructose, is in the core of the plant.”

“So it becomes a mini science lesson.”

“Everything that goes on in my classroom is tied to learning, Aiden. Academics are important but I believe in educating the whole child, and that means making them aware of their environment. When a child goes shopping with his or her mother or father and sees a bottle of agave on the shelf, he or she will know that it’s a sweetener and not a cocktail.”

“I’m sorry for prejudging you.”

“There’s no need to apologize. You have every right to question me about what I intend to teach Allison and Livia. I may not have any children but I, too, would be concerned if my child’s teacher talked about alcoholic beverages, and I would never expose your children to something I wouldn’t want for my own.”

“I know I’m a little overprotective when it comes to my girls—”

“You don’t have to say it, Aiden,” Taryn interrupted. She wanted to tell him that she’d had students whose parents were dealing with their own personal issues and were unable to protect their children. She forced a smile. “Now, are you going to let me see your man cave?”

Aiden returned her smile with a bright one of his own. “Of course.”

“This is ni-ice,” Taryn drawled, drawing the word out in two syllables when she stepped off the last stair, her shoes sinking into the plush pale-gray carpeting that matched the fabric walls. Aiden flipped a wall switch and high-hats bathed the space in soft light. The basement had been transformed into a media/game room with black leather reclining chairs, sofas and love seats. A flat screen measuring at least seventy inches was mounted on a wall for viewing throughout the expansive space. There was a wet bar fronted with a quartet of stools, a glass-fronted credenza with highball and cocktail glasses and fully stocked with spirits, along with a portable refrigerator and wine cellar. The game area contained pool and air hockey tables and additional side tables with checkers and chess pieces stood ready for willing players.

“How often do you entertain down here?”

“It varies. I usually host Super Bowl Sunday and alternate with my sister for Thanksgiving. My brother and his wife always have Easter and Christmas at their home. What about your family, Taryn? How do you celebrate the holidays?”

Taryn rested a hip against the mahogany bar. “My father is a rabid football fan and his guilty pleasure is attending the Super Bowl.”

Aiden lifted questioning eyebrows. “He goes every year?” She nodded. “What does he do?”

“He’s a family court judge.”

Aiden grimaced. “Been there, done that,” he mumbled under his breath. “What about your mother?”

Taryn knew if he’d gained sole custody of his children, then he would’ve had to have gone through the family court system. “She’s a social worker.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have a brother who’s active navy.”

Aiden’s expression brightened as if someone had suddenly turned on a light. “Where is he stationed?”

“Base Little Creek.”

Recognition stole its way over Aiden’s rugged features as he stared at Taryn as if she had spoken a language he did not understand. “Your brother is a SEAL?”

“Yes.”

“He’s SEAL Team 8?”

A soft gasp escaped Taryn’s parted lips. “You know?”

“Yes, because I was a member of SEAL Team 5 stationed in Coronado, California.”

She pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “I knew it,” she said between her fingers.”

“Knew what, Taryn?”

“I knew you were special ops because your body language is the same as my brother’s. Do folks around here know you were a SEAL?”

Aiden shook his head. “Only my family knew. It was something my ex complained about because whenever I was assigned a mission I couldn’t tell her where I was going.”

Taryn thought about her sister-in-law who didn’t complain when Langdon received his orders; she knew when she married him that she wouldn’t hear from him for weeks at a time. “Didn’t she know this when you married her?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing for you to understand,” Aiden said, cutting her off. “The only thing I’m going to say, and after that the topic is moot, is the best thing to come from my marriage is my children.”

Although Aiden hadn’t raised his voice, Taryn felt as if he had. She clenched her teeth to keep from reminding him that he had been the one to mention his wife. And she resented that he’d spoken to her as if chastising his children. “I’m ready to leave now.” And she was. She’d spent almost two hours with Aiden, longer than any normal interview, and suddenly she felt as if she’d worn out her welcome.

“Don’t you want to see the rest of the basement?”

“I’ll see it at another time. I need to get back to the house and walk Bootsy.” Taryn hadn’t lied because she’d promised the puppy that she would walk him. Turing on her heel, she headed for the staircase, Aiden following. It only took minutes for her to return to the kitchen and retrieve her jacket and tote. “What time are we meeting tomorrow to go to Beckley?”

“Does ten o’clock work for you?”

She looped the handles of the tote over her shoulder. “Yes, and thank you for breakfast.”

Aiden inclined his head. “You’re welcome. I’ll walk you to your vehicle.”

Taryn wanted to tell him she could find her car without his assistance but decided to be gracious. “Thank you.” Aiden walked her to where she had parked the SUV.

“Drive safely,” he said when she opened the driver’s-side door.

“I will.”

She shut the door, started up the SUV and maneuvered away from the curb. Taryn acknowledged that she’d closed the door on one phase of her life, and when she signed the contract, agreeing to homeschool two preschoolers, she had opened another. Interacting with Aiden had been comfortable and easygoing until he’d mentioned his wife. And it wasn’t for the first time she wondered, what had the woman done to result in her losing her children? Were the townspeople right when they claimed her family was bad news? And why, Taryn mused, did Aiden marry her when he knew her family’s history, whatever that was?

The questions tumbled over themselves in Taryn’s head, until she was forced to mentally dismiss them when she reminded herself that although she would share a house with her students’ father, their relationship would be strictly professional. He was her employer and she his employee. It was something she could not afford to forget.

Chapter Three

Taryn stood at the French doors in Jessica’s kitchen enjoying her second cup of coffee while watching the snow covering the backyard. Last night’s lightly falling frozen precipitation had intensified into a full-blown blizzard. Her cell phone rang and she walked over and picked it up off the countertop. Aiden’s name and number appeared on the screen. She answered the call after the second ring.