Page 44 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

“It’s my pleasure,” Jillian told her honestly. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen so many books outside of a library.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Annabelle said. “You know, a lot of people think farmers are too busy to read, but the winters are cold here, and there’s less to do. We all lookforward to this sale so we can donate last year’s crop of books and bring home lots of new ones.”

Jillian smiled at the idea of a whole community spending its winters curled up with a book. It sounded like her idea of heaven.

“You fit right in here, don’t you?” Annabelle murmured to her.

There was something in her voice, something that sounded like they shared a secret. Jillian turned to her, but they had already arrived at one of the tables, where a woman was already sifting through the first box of books.

“Amanda,” Annabelle said. “This is Jillian, and my granddaughter, Josie. They’ve come to volunteer today.”

“That’s wonderful,” Amanda said brightly.

When she looked up, Jillian recognized her as the pretty, blonde woman Brad had gone to lunch with the other day. She looked absolutely stunning in what must have been a very expensive, snow-white sweater with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, showing off a pair of crystal snowflake earrings.

“Hi,” Jillian said, wishing she could melt into the ground.

“Josie and Jillian,” Amanda said. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person. I don’t know which of you Brad talks about more.”

“You know my dad?” Josie asked suspiciously.

“I recently bought a building in town,” Amanda said, putting down the book she had been holding when they walked up. “He’s thinking of renting the top floors for his architecture practice, so we had a bite to eat the other day while we talked about it.”

Sothatwas why they had been eating lunch together. Jillian felt guilty for how relieved she felt. Then she felt another pang of guilt, remembering that Lucy had said Amanda had always had a crush on Brad back in high school. Maybe she still did.

I have no claim on him.

But when she thought back to last night, and the way he had looked at her, holding her face in his hand so gently, like he thought she might break…

“Hi there,” another lady said, moving to the space beside Amanda. “I’m Susan Grentz.”

Jillian introduced herself and Josie to the older woman.

“I’m Annabelle Williams’s granddaughter,” Josie added.

“Is that so?” Susan asked with a smile. “Well, I think your grandmother is a very special person.”

“May I have your attention?” Annabelle said crisply as she moved to the front of the room. She wasn’t shouting, but the murmur of chatter in the room went silent instantly.

“First of all,” she said. “I want to thank each and every one of you for being here today. The Winter Wonderland community book sale couldn’t happen without your help.”

There were murmurs and smiles. Jillian could tell that everyone was glad to feel a part of something special.

“I’m going to go over some basics on what we’re doing today,” Annabelle went on. “This should help out with most of the sorting you’re doing. But if you have a question, don’t be shy. I’ll be right up front to help.”

As Annabelle went over the basics of examining the books for condition and assessing them for genre, Jillian found herself looking around at the women surrounding her.

There were older women, younger women, some dressed beautifully, like Amanda, others in worn clothing, or denim and plaid that looked like they were planning to go right to work on the farm when they were finished here. But what they all had in common was a happy, relaxed attitude—as if coming together for the good of the town gave every one of them joy.

“Are you okay, dear?” the lady named Susan asked her when Annabelle finished speaking.

“Oh, yes,” Jillian said, shaking off her sense of wonder. “It’s just… it’s so nice here.”

“It is nice here,” Susan agreed, glancing around with a faint smile. “I guess I don’t stop to appreciate it enough, but this community is so strong. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jillian wondered what she meant, and it must have shown on her face.

“I mean over the years we’ve seen droughts and floods,” Susan said gently. “We’ve seen recessions and fires and everyday tragedies too—like when I lost my husband. But we always pull together like this.”

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