Her Wickham Falls Seal. Rochelle Alers

brother just called and offered to take the lunch shift at the Wolf Den. That’s the name of our family’s restaurant.”

      “Who watches your daughters when you’re working?”

      “It’s been a merry-go-round with my mother, my sister, Esther, and occasionally my sister-in-law. My mother came up from Florida to stay with me for almost six months but went back because my stepfather was complaining that he missed her. Right now my sister babysits them whenever I work the night shift.”

      Taryn followed Aiden through the parlor, living and dining rooms with furnishings she thought of as classic farmhouse with oak-topped bleached pine tables. Area rugs with geometric designs covered polished plank floors. Off-white sofas and plush love seats and chairs covered in prints and plaids in varying hues of pink and red flowers immediately caught her practiced eye. She had minored in art in college, and Taryn was always conscious of colors and symmetry.

      “How often do you work nights?”

      “I’m two weeks on and two weeks off.” Aiden wanted to tell Taryn it wasn’t easy being a single father, yet he was willing to make sacrifices to afford his girls a stable environment. He pointed to the trio of stools at the breakfast bar. “Please sit down and relax.”

      Taryn sat and placed the tote on the floor. The kitchen was a chef’s dream with stainless-steel appliances, white bleached pine cabinets, a built-in refrigerator/freezer, eye-level oven, microwave, twin dishwashers, a breakfast bar and nook with bench seats, and an industrial stovetop and grill.

      “Are your daughters here now?”

      Aiden shook his head. “No. They’re in Orlando with their grandparents.” He washed his hands in the smaller of two stainless-steel sinks and then slipped on a pair of disposable gloves. “What would you like for breakfast?”

      “Oh, I get to choose?”

      “Of course,” he countered, smiling.

      Lately, there hadn’t been much for Aiden to smile about because it was as if his life was in limbo. The restaurant was down one cook and he’d had to put in more hours, which took time away from Allison and Livia. He also felt guilty that his mother, who should’ve been enjoying her retirement, was looking after his children. However, he never regretted divorcing his wife and being awarded full custody of their daughters.

      Taryn rested an elbow on the granite countertop and cupped her chin on her fist. “Do you have a menu?”

      His smile grew wider. So, he thought, the pretty teacher definitely has jokes. “Not available, but I’m certain I can whip up whatever you want.”

      A pair of light brown eyes met and fused with his bluish-green pair. “If that’s the case, then I’d like a bagel with lox.”

      “Sorry, but I happen to be out of bagels.”

      Taryn scrunched up her pert nose. “Then I’d like a Southern breakfast: grits, fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast and coffee.”

      I like her! Aiden mused, as he turned on the eye-level oven. It appeared she had a sense of humor, something that had been lacking with his ex-wife. Denise had claimed she had nothing to laugh or smile about because the townsfolks hated her and her family.

      “That’s one order I can fill. Do you want cheese in your grits?”

      “Yes, please.”

      Aiden walked over to the built-in refrigerator/freezer to select the items he needed to prepare breakfast. Of all of the rooms in the house, he felt most comfortable in the kitchen. He’d grown up watching his father cook for his family, and once he entered adolescence he had been invited to join his father and uncles in the Wolf Den’s kitchen.

      “Do you cook?” he asked Taryn as he returned to the cooking island with eggs, bacon, a loaf of bread and a plastic bag of shredded cheddar cheese. Aiden placed strips of slab bacon on a baking sheet and sprinkled them with a shaker filled with brown sugar before setting the pan on a shelf in the oven.

      “I do. But I prefer baking.”

      “That’s where we differ. I love to cook, but I don’t bake.”

      Taryn slipped off the stool, took off her suit jacket and draped it over the back of her stool. “Do you work weekends?”

      “Right now I do, because we’re down one cook. I’d like for you to clear up one thing for me.”

      “What’s that?” Taryn asked.

      “Why do you want to homeschool my daughters?”

      * * *

      Taryn leaned forward. “Why do you need someone to homeschool your daughters?”

      Aiden went completely still and gave her a direct stare. “I asked you first.”

      “I can’t answer your question until you answer mine. After all, Aiden, you’re the one who put out the word that you were looking for someone to provide instruction to your children.” They engaged in what Taryn thought of as a stare-down until Aiden nodded.

      “You’re right. I don’t know if Sawyer told you about how folks in The Falls view my ex-wife’s family.”

      “He’s never said anything to me,” Taryn admitted truthfully. She knew Jessica’s husband had grown up in Wickham Falls.

      “The Wilkinsons are considered the town’s black sheep, and because my daughters share that bloodline they are looked down upon. Many of the parents in this neighborhood won’t allow their children to play with Livia and Allison because they claim they’re bad seeds. Rather than confront some of these narrow-minded adults, I prefer to have my daughters homeschooled until they’re ready for middle school. By that time, they’ll need to socialize with other kids their age and hopefully will be confident enough to hold their own against some of the bullies.”

      Taryn stared at Aiden as if he’d taken leave of his senses. She did not want to believe feuds like the Hatfields and McCoys were still happening. “Have the parents openly bullied your daughters?”

      “Not to my knowledge. It’s their kids who repeat what they hear their parents say.”

      “So they don’t have any friends at all?”

      “They play with their cousins.”

      Taryn was still attempting to wrap her head around the fact that Aiden’s daughters were pariahs because of their mother. “I believe you made the right decision to keep them home at this age. However, I’m going to socialize your daughters and teach them what they should know.”

      Aiden’s features softened in a smile. “Now that we’re on the same page, I’d like to know why you prefer homeschooling to teaching in a traditional classroom.”

      Taryn tucked her shoulder-length, chemically straightened hair behind her ears. “Although I like teaching in a traditional classroom setting, it was the commute that wore me down. I drove, on average, three and a half hours each day, five days a week and most times when I got home, all I wanted to do was grab something to eat and go straight to bed. The next day, I was on the road at dawn to make it to work before eight. I hardly ever hung out after work with coworkers or friends because I had a fifty-five mile drive back to Long Island.”

      “What about the weekends?”

      Taryn wanted to tell Aiden that she’d had a very active social life when she lived in Brooklyn, even before she moved in with her ex. There was always somewhere to go, new restaurants to explore and Manhattan was only a subway stop away. “If I went anywhere, it was usually on Long Island, because I didn’t want to drive or take the train into the city.”

      Aiden filled a pot with water and set it on the cooktop. “Are you saying you’re through with the big city?”

      “You can say that.” Reaching down into the tote, she removed the envelope. “I’m giving you copies of my teacher certification,