Page 1 of The Hermit on the Hill

CHAPTER ONE

Jenna

Istared at the screaming two-year-old in my arms with no idea what to do to help her calm down. How was I going to be a good mother to the baby growing inside me if I couldn't figure out how to calm this poor toddler?

"Shh, Aidy," I said. "It's okay. The scary fairy is gone."

Aidy, face alarmingly red, screamed louder, her little body shaking and her heart racing so hard I could feel it against my arm. There was no getting through to her. What had the parenting books said? Why couldn't I remember a darn thing?

I bounced her while I thought. Hadn't the books said something about distraction being a way to calm a kid? Or was it a way to stop them from doing something dangerous? Didn't matter. It was worth a try.

I looked around the side yard of my mother's inn for a toy or a pretty flower. Even a bug might be enough to calm her, but I couldn't find anything, so I just kept bouncing. If my hearing survived this, it would be a miracle.

When I'd volunteered to help my sister May, a professional photographer, with her photo shoot for a local, Uber-pricey summer day camp, I'd envisioned an idyllic morning with fresh-faced toddlers all dressed adorably for their photos.

And that's what it had been until my niece Kayla, dressed as a fairy, had stepped into the yard and walked toward the children, her wings flapping gently behind her. She'd looked beautiful and ephemeral, and every one of the five toddlers had stopped what they were doing to stare at her in awe.

And then Aidy had screamed like she'd just seen a serial killer with a bloody knife. That had snapped the other toddlers out of their reverie and a little boy and girl, who looked enough alike that they had to be related, had started fighting about who should get to hug the fairy first. The two other little boys had taken off at a sprint for the fields that surrounded the inn.

I'd scooped up Aidy, and the camp counselor, who couldn't be older than nineteen, had raced after the two little boys who'd run off. May had enlisted the help of the fighting toddlers and Kayla to get a 'big surprise' from inside the inn. And I'd been alone with a screaming toddler.

"I've got ice cream," May shouted as she walked over to us, two toddlers and our mother by her side. May's hair had come loose from her neat bun in chunks that fell around her face, but that was the only sign that she wasn't cool, collected, and certain that everything would be fine.

The little girl in my arms went utterly silent. Finally. A distraction for the win.

"And I've got glitter," Mom said, the tub in her arms almost as big as she was. She was dressed for a day spent running the inn, in slacks and a light pink blouse, her white hair cropped close to her head in a pixie cut that suited her fine-boned face. "How would you all like to be fairies and wood elves for your pictures?"

The two toddlers sat at the picnic table where May and Mom dropped everything, already arguing about who would get to pick the glitter and who would get their ice cream first. Those kids were going to grow up to be trial lawyers or MMA fighters when they grew up.

"I keam?" Aidy said in a whisper of a voice.

"Yes." I gave her my biggest smile. "Want to get those tears dried up and get some yummy ice cream?"

She nodded, all seriousness, not even the hint of a smile on her face.

I started toward the picnic table, hoping May had tissues for Aidy because her tears had led to copious amounts of snot dripping down the lower half of her face.

"I not want to be a fairy," she said, her voice sweet and soft.

"How about an elf then? Elves have more magic than fairies, anyway." Honestly, it depended on the source of the lore and the value one placed on certain powers, but that was probably more information than a two-year-old needed.

"Weally?"

"Elves are elftastic. And not scary at all."

Finally, Aidy smiled, her brown eyes bright. I set her on the bench seat and stepped around the picnic table to help May, but Aidy let out an ear-piercing shriek and reached for me.

May laughed. "Save our hearing and stay with Aidy, please, Jenna. I've got this."

So I picked up Aidy and sat, her warm body settling onto my lap. She sighed and stuck her thumb in her mouth, her head falling back against my chest. My heart spasmed and tears sprang to my eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones.

The counselor, harried and red-faced, returned to the clearing, a toddler on each hip. "Today was not the day for my assistant to call in sick," she muttered as she got the two kids seated at the picnic table.

She eyed the over-sized bowl of ice cream and sprinkles May set in front of one of the two fighting kids. "Are you sure sugar is the way to go?"

"Told you I'd be first," one of the future lawyers said with unrestrained glee.

The other future lawyer yanked the bowl away so hard that it tilted and swung, covering me and Aidy in ice cream and sprinkles.

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