Page 3 of Into the Fire
“Is she even qualified?”
“She admitted she hasn’t worked with kids professionally, no—but she’s smart, capable, and she didn’t flinch when I mentioned June’s energy levels,” Margaret smirked. “She has a kind face. I honestly think she will be great.”
Levi scowled. “This is a bad idea.”
“She’ll be here in five minutes; you’ve got just enough time to wash your face and pretend to be a little less grumpy than you are.”
Levi stared at her. “Five minutes?”
Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want to meet her covered in dirt and smelling like the barn, go clean up.”
He muttered something under his breath as he stomped off to throw on a clean shirt.
Margaret just smiled, moving through the kitchen to the cupboard to grab two mason jars and a pitcher of tea from the fridge to set out on the porch.
???
Emery held the steering wheeltighter as she hit a set of potholes that she didn’t expect to be so deep and turned off the gravel road. She slowly took the long, uneven driveway up to the farmhouse. The sun lowered slightly, casting a golden tone over the fields and the weathered white siding of the house. She noted the way that the setting sun added a calming feel she wasn't used to. Parking beside an old pickup truck, she shut off the engine, giving herself one last pep talk.
It’s just a conversation. Not a commitment. In. Out. See if it’s a fit.
She glanced in the mirror, noticing her hair was a little wilder than she’d like for a first impression, piled in a messy bun on top of her head–the kind that had started practical and turned chaotic somewhere around 2 p.m. With a sigh, she stepped out of the car.
The farmhouse was charming in a rugged,aged kind of way. A big oak tree stretched its limbs a short distance off to the side of the front porch, with a swing swaying slightly in the breeze.
Back inside the house, Levi was toweling off his face at the laundry room sink when Margaret peeked around the corner.
“She’s here,” she said cheerfully. “I’m going to run June’s bath.”
“What? Wait—no intro? No backup?”
“You’re a grown man, Levi,” Margaret called, already heading down the hallway. “Try smiling. It won’t kill you.”
He stepped outside, wanting to get this over with. And there she was.
Pretty, Levi thought, against his better judgment. Too pretty. Trouble.
He didn’t smile, just stood there on the front porch in all his Levi Walker grumpy cowboy glory. Broad shoulders. A short but well-groomed scruff covered his strong jawline. A clean but worn thin flannel that he was stillbuttoning up as he walked her way, jeans smudged with dirt, and—no boots, just standing there in plain white socks. She couldn't help but notice the way he smelled as he walked closer. How did he smell so good while simultaneously looking like he’d been rolling in the hay all day? He smelled gentle and strong at the same time, like juniper and rosewood, like sandalwood and citrus with a tiny touch of hay.
“Sorry for wasting your time,” he said flatly. “This isn’t going to work.”
Emery blinked. “Wow. That’s your opener?”
He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Look, I didn’t ask for help. My mom went rogue. I’m sure you’re…fine,” he said, looking her over, eyes critically landing on her flip-flops. “But I don't need a nanny.”
Emery arched a brow, stepping just inside, but not any closer. “So, you let me drive all the way out here just to say no before I even made it to the door?”
“I didn’t let you do anything,” Levi said, folding his arms across his chest. “I didn’t even knowabout the damn ad until five minutes ago.”
She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Charming.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and more flustered than he wanted to admit. She wasn’t what he expected. Not even close. She looked city-smart and sharp, but almost tired in a way he recognized. There were shadows under her eyes, and her clothes were casual but well-worn. She wasn’t there to impress anyone. That part... he respected.
And still. He needed this whole thing to go away.
“I don’t need a full-time nanny,” he eventually said. “I need someone who gets how things work around here. This isn’t some weekend babysitting gig.”
Emery lifted her chin. “I’m not here to beg for a job. I saw a post. I thought I could help. If you’re not interested, that’s fine. But you could’ve just said that in a message instead of playing cranky cowboy at the door.”
