Page 37 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

JILLIAN

Jillian watched Josie gather gingerbread ingredients and line them up on the counter with almost military precision.

Moose sat on the floor beside her, his head tilting as he carefully watched her every movement.

Though the dog normally operated with a quiet dignity, he had greeted them by clowning around the house like a puppy when they came home from town, flashing around the dining table and then spinning in place, landing on his belly with his front paws splayed and his rump held high, tail wagging, ears back and smiling with his tongue lolling out of his mouth while Josie howled with laughter.

And when Brad carried in the fresh Christmas tree they had bought at the firehouse sale, Moose examined it as solemnly as an airport security officer until the moment Josie and Jillian headed for the kitchen.

They had all been tired after spending the day at the Hometown Holiday celebration, but Josie had been eagerto make their gingerbread dough tonight so that it would be ready to roll out tomorrow, and Jillian had asked Brad if it would be okay.

Brad said he had no objection to letting her stay up a little late. After all, it wasn’t a school night, and he was going to be digging around in the boxes for the Christmas decorations once he got the tree up.

The big tree turned out to be just right for the house. It was so fresh that it instantly filled the whole place with the nostalgic scent of Christmas. Josie had chosen a nice fat one that wasn’t too tall. But even so, the topmost branch still scraped the ceiling of the cottage, which wasn’t very high, especially compared to the vaulted ceiling of the penthouse they were used to.

Brad himself had to duck in some of the doorways of the new place. But he didn’t seem to mind. And Jillian honestly felt happier in the smaller, cozier setting where voices weren’t lost to a lot of empty space.

Right now, she and Josie were in the open kitchen and dining area next to the living room and it felt like Brad was right there with them as he worked on the tree. They could all see each other and enjoy the rich scent of pine in the air.

This is the life I always dreamed of. It’s all I’ve ever wanted…

She noticed with pleasure that Brad had set aside the branches he had trimmed. He knew she and Josie would want to do a project of some kind with them.

Will she still do that stuff when I’m gone?

The unwelcome thought put a lump in her throat, even as she told herself that Josie had plenty of people inher life to help her have fun and enjoy the holidays. But Jillian decided that tonight was a perfect opportunity to plant the idea in the girl’s head. She might have to make more of an effort to have those moments after Jillian was gone.

“Done,” Josie said with satisfaction. “We have everything we need.”

Making sure they had all the ingredients before getting started was the most important part of any recipe. Jillian was proud that she had instilled this first step in her charge.

“Great job,” she told her. “When you teach your cousins how to make gingerbread, will you remember to make sure they know that’s step one?”

“Teach my cousins?” Josie asked uncertainly.

“Don’t you think Lucas would love to build a gingerbread house with you?” Jillian asked. “He might come up with some really neat ideas for how to decorate it. And there’s no way you’re going to be doing this alone next year. I wish we had thought to invite him over tonight.”

“That could be fun,” Josie said thoughtfully. “Maybe Zeke would want to learn too. He’s awfully little though.”

“You were pretty little when you started learning,” Jillian reminded her. “You couldn’t even stir the dough once the flour went in.”

Josie laughed and Brad chuckled from the living room.

“Speaking of which, want to grab the big fork?” Jillian asked her. “Or are you too tired? We can use the mixer tonight, if you want.”

“No way,” Josie said. “We stir it ourselves. It’s our tradition.”

That particular tradition had come about because Brad didn’t have a nice mixer when Josie was little, but Jillian wasn’t about to tell her that. Mixing the dough the old-fashioned way was actually pretty fun, and she was convinced it was as good for her arms as any gym workout.

As they proceeded with the dough, Brad wandered in to join them.

Jillian put on the kettle and fixed his tea without comment, placing it on the counter, and watching with satisfaction when he took a seat, knowing he was always a welcome part of their traditions.

“Thank you, Jillian,” he said, warmly, his voice deeper than usual.

There was something about the way he was looking at her tonight. It was like he was asking her a question without speaking—or maybe asking himself one.

Whatever it was, it was very distracting. And it was causing her to think all kinds of hopeful thoughts that she had no business thinking.

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