Chapter 11

11

Chloe

Painted handprints in every color of the rainbow decorated the door of Whittier Falls Elementary. A paper banner above it read “Fall Into Reading” in block letters. I took a deep breath, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

A lady with a clipboard commanded a line of parents, so I joined and gave my information to her when it was my turn. She used a walkie-talkie to call names out.

My stomach churned as I gazed at the sea of unfamiliar faces streaming out the doors. What was I thinking, agreeing to be a nanny? I didn’t know the first thing about taking care of kids. Sure, Abby was sweet, but I’d never spent any time with her alone. An entire afternoon with a six-year-old? How was I supposed to entertain her? What would we talk about? Panic bubbled up in my chest.

I scanned the crowd of chattering children for Abigail’s curly brown hair. Maybe this was all a big mistake. I should tell Mason I changed my mind, that I wasn’t cut out for this. He’d understand, right? Find someone more qualified, more maternal.

The problem was, he’d already done that and she got injured. He clearly needed the help. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I needed this job. I’d asked Eryn for more hours not just because I could use the money. I could, that was for sure. But it was deeper than that.

I needed something to fill my days besides wallowing in memories I’d rather forget. Something to make me feel useful again, like I had a purpose.

I spotted Abigail skipping down the steps, her purple backpack bouncing against her back. She looked so carefree, so innocent. A pang squeezed my heart. Once upon a time, that had been me—before that horrible night stole everything away.

I plastered on what I hoped was a welcoming smile as Abigail bounded up to me. “Hi, Abigail! How was your day?” The words sounded awkward to my own ears, but her face lit up.

“Chloe! You’re really here!”

Abigail flung her arms around my waist, nearly knocking me off balance with her enthusiastic hug. Startled, I patted her back, a laugh escaping my lips. “Of course I’m here, sweetie. I promised your daddy, didn’t I?”

She tilted her face up, gray eyes sparkling. “I know, but I was afraid you wouldn’t come. That you’d forget about me . . .” Her voice trailed off, a flicker of sadness clouding her features.

My heart clenched. I crouched down to her level, gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Hey, I would never forget about you, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Abigail’s smile returned, brighter than before. “Pinky promise?” She held out her little finger, waiting expectantly.

I linked my pinky with hers, sealing the deal. “Pinky promise.”

As we walked hand-in-hand towards my car, Abigail chattered away, her earlier melancholy forgotten. “Miss Parker let me be the line leader today, and we got to paint pictures of our families in art class. Oh, and guess what? We’re going to have a class pet! A bunny!”

I couldn’t help but grin at her excitement. “A bunny? That sounds awesome! What are you going to name it?”

“I think we should call it Carrots. Or maybe Fluffy. No, wait—Hoppy!” She giggled, skipping alongside me.

Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself joining in. Maybe this nanny thing wouldn’t be so bad after all. Abigail’s lively spirit was already chasing away the shadows of doubt that had clung to me all day.

A few blocks later, the Victorian house loomed before us, its slightly weathered facade and wide porch beckoning us closer. Abigail tugged on my hand, practically vibrating with excitement. “C’mon, Chloe! I wanna show you my room! I got a new bed and Daddy helped me rearrange my stuffies so it looks different than last time.”

As we stepped inside, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla enveloped me, making the house feel instantly warm and inviting. Antique furniture and soft, well-worn rugs added to the cozy atmosphere. I couldn’t help but feel at ease here. It was a real home, a place where love and laughter echoed through the halls.

Abigail led me up the creaky wooden stairs, her small hand gripping mine tightly. She pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, revealing a her new bed—a canopy, draped in shimmery green and lavender fabric, surrounded by a menagerie of stuffed animals.

“Wow, Abby, your room looks amazing!” I couldn’t help but be charmed by the little girl’s enthusiasm as she proudly showed off her treasures.

She flopped onto the bed, hugging a well-loved teddy bear to her chest. “This is Mr. Snuggles. He keeps me company when Daddy’s working late. ”

I sat down beside her, smoothing a hand over the soft fur of the bear. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Snuggles. I’m sure you take great care of Abby.”

Abigail nodded solemnly. “He does. But sometimes I still get lonely.” She looked up at me, her gray eyes wide and trusting. “Will you stay with me, Chloe? Even when Daddy’s not here?”

A lump formed in my throat at the vulnerability in her voice. I knew all too well the ache of feeling alone in the world. In that moment, I silently vowed to be the steady presence Abigail needed, to protect her from the kind of heartache I’d endured. But could I really keep that vow? I didn’t know what the future held.

I pulled her into a gentle hug, resting my chin on top of her curls. “Of course I will, sweetie. I’m always right out back in the cottage. And I’ll be here whenever you need me. That’s what friends are for, right?”

She nestled closer, her small frame relaxing against mine. “Best friends,” she mumbled, her words muffled by my shirt.

My eyes prickled with unshed tears.

As we sat there, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the lace curtains, I felt a sense of belonging settle over me. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn’t thinking about running from my past or hiding from my scars.

Maybe I was exactly where I was meant to be, holding this precious child and promising her she could count on me.

Abigail pulled back from the hug, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Wanna see my favorite hiding spot?” She bounced on her toes, excitement radiating off her in waves.

I couldn’t help but mirror her smile. “Lead the way, captain!”

She giggled, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hallway. “It’s in Daddy’s study. He has the best books and the comfiest chair. ”

We reached a set of double doors at the end of the hall, and Abigail pushed them open with a dramatic flourish. “Ta-da!”

The study was a book lover’s dream come true. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, filled with hardcovers and worn paperbacks. A massive mahogany desk sat in the center, flanked by two plush armchairs. But it was the window seat that drew my eye—a cozy nook bathed in natural light, piled high with colorful cushions. Who knew a cowboy could have such a magical room in his home?

“Wow,” I breathed, taking it all in. “This is incredible, Abby.”

She beamed up at me, pride shining in her eyes. “Daddy reads me stories here sometimes. And when he’s working, I like to sit and look at the pictures in the books.”

An image flashed through my mind—a tiny Abigail curled up on the window seat, lost in the pages of a fairy tale while Mason worked quietly at his desk. The thought made my heart ache in the best possible way.

“What’s your favorite book, Chloe?” Abigail asked, tilting her head curiously. “Maybe we can read it together sometime.”

I bit my lip, considering. Other than the poetry I read to help process my trauma, I realized I didn’t read much anymore. It had been so long since I’d allowed myself the simple pleasure of getting lost in a story. “You know, I’m not sure. But I would love for you to help me pick a new favorite.”

Her face lit up like I’d just handed her the moon. “Really? Okay!” She darted over to the nearest shelf, running her finger along the spines. “This one has a pretty cover. And ooh, this one has horses in it!”

As I watched her, so full of joy and innocence, I felt the weight of my past begin to lift, ever so slightly. Here, in this moment, I wasn’t broken or scarred. I was just Chloe, the girl lucky enough to be Abigail’s friend .

She picked out a book but immediately put it back. “I don’t really like that one. It’s where a girl loses her mama and she goes on a quest to find her. But she never does.”

“Oh, that sounds sad.” I hoped that wasn’t actually a children’s book, but maybe there was more to the plot.

“Chloe, do you know why my mama isn’t here anymore?” Abigail asked suddenly, her voice small and uncertain.

The question caught me off guard, and I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “I . . . I don’t, sweetie.”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the book in her hands. “Daddy said she had to move away. But I heard Gamma and Gampa talking one day when they thought I was asleep upstairs. They said she didn’t want to be a wife and mama anymore.”

My heart clenched at the matter-of-fact way she said it, as if she’d rehearsed the words a hundred times. How could anyone walk away from this precious child?

“I’m sure your mama loves you very much, Abigail,” I said gently, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Sometimes grown-ups make choices that are hard for kids to understand.”

She looked up at me then, her gray eyes wise beyond her years. “Daddy says it’s not my fault. I still miss her sometimes.”

And the tears were back, pricking at the back of my eyes. I blinked them away. “Of course you do, honey. That’s completely normal. You know,” I started, unsure why I was opening up to a child when I hadn’t been able to say these words to anyone other than Dr. Bannon, “I lost my mama too. In a different way. She . . . she died and went to Heaven.”

Without warning, Abigail closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around my waist. I froze for a moment, startled by so much contact in such a short amount of time, but then returned the hug fiercely .

“I’m glad you’re here, Chloe,” she mumbled into my shirt. “You feel safe.”

Those three simple words shattered and rebuilt me in an instant. I tightened my hold on her, silently vowing to do everything in my power to protect this little girl’s heart.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Abigail,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

She pulled back, offering me a smile that could have powered the entire town. “Can we read the horse book now?”

I laughed, the sound a bit wobbly but genuine. “Absolutely. Let’s go find a cozy spot to curl up in.”

As she tugged me eagerly towards the window seat, chattering about horses and fairy tales, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t experienced in a very long time—hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I found some purpose after all. That I could help heal Abigail’s broken pieces, if only a little.

And maybe in return, that could help heal mine.