The Nanny's Plan

“Over here,” she heard one of the boys call out.

“We’re helping Uncle Pierce,” the other said.

“Come join us, Amy.”

From the tone of Pierce’s voice he didn’t sound at all annoyed that the boys had invaded his space. When she reached them, she saw that the twins were standing on stools at a planting table. Both of them had dirt smeared up to their elbows. Jeremiah was tamping down soil in what looked to be a plastic seedling tray and Benjamin was accepting a palmful of tiny seeds from his uncle.

“These seeds are special, Amy,” Benjamin told her. “Uncle Pierce made ’em with cross-pollimation.”

“Cross-pollination,” Pierce corrected.

“And Uncle Pierce told us that seeds were first made like this,” Benjamin continued, “by a man who lost his mind.”

“Lost his mind? When did I say that?” Bewilderment bit into Pierce’s forehead.

Benjamin said, “You said he was mental.”

“Not mental.” Pierce chuckled as he shook his head. “Mendel. His name was Mendel. Gregor Mendel.”

“Oh.” The child looked momentarily confused. “I thought you were telling us that the guy was crazy to try to, you know…cross-pollimate plants.”

The sigh that issued from Pierce was brimming with good-humored surrender.

Jeremiah reached up and scratched his nose, smudging the bridge of it with soil. “Amy, I betcha didn’t know that there are mommy plants and daddy plants. Just like people. Uncle Pierce was telling us that when they rub on each other, they make seeds ‘steada babies.”

“Yeah,” Benjamin added without lifting his eyes from his work. “Plant sex.”

This completely unexpected detour in the conversation stunned Amy into silence. She lifted her gaze and saw that all the color had drained from Pierce’s handsome face. His lips parted in disbelief. Evidently he was having trouble finding his tongue, too.

What was so mind-blowing was not only what the twins had said, but also how they’d said it. They’d spoken as if the topic was no big deal, honestly detailing in their own words what Pierce had evidently explained to them.

The children didn’t even look up from the task at hand. Benjamin had passed his brother some of the seeds and their fingers were busy carefully sprinkling them over the soil in the seedling tray.

Her eyes locked on Pierce’s mortified green gaze. Heat flushed his face. He forced his jaw closed. He swallowed. Then he moistened his lips.

Finally he whispered, “That wasn’t quite how I put things. I never once mentioned the word sex.”

The situation struck a humorous chord in her all of a sudden, but the menacing look he gave her made it clear that he would not appreciate it if she surrendered to the laughter that bubbled in the back of her throat. So she did all she could to squelch it.

Evidently Benjamin noticed how quiet the adults had become. He lifted his chin, looked from Amy to his uncle.

“Oh, it’s okay, Uncle Pierce,” he said easily. “Me and Jeremiah know all about sex.”

His brother nodded, adding, “Daddy doesn’t know it, but our mommy watches soap operas.”

The candidness expressed by the children tickled Amy’s funny bone all the more. But Pierce didn’t seem to find any humor in the moment. He looked downright horrified.

“All done,” Benjamin announced. “Do we need to water the seeds, Uncle Pierce?”

“Yes. Go over there to the sink—” Pierce pointed the way “—and fill up the watering can.”

The boys scrambled down from the stools and raced off.

“No running,” Amy called out. “You’ll fall and hurt yourselves.”

She was in a quandary. She was trying hard not to smile, but she also felt awkwardness pressing in on them.

Then he murmured, “I’m going to have to speak to my sister about her television viewing habits.”

Amy could stand it no more. Laughter gurgled forth. Her hand flew to cover her lips. But air rushed between her fingers, her cheeks stretched in a wide grin, her shoulders shuddered up and down.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, but it was hopeless. “It’s just…funny.”

A corner of Pierce’s mouth quirked once, twice, and soon he was chuckling right along with her.

“It is pretty funny,” he agreed.

“What’s funny?” Jeremiah lugged the pail over, and it was so full that water sloshed over the rim.

Ignoring his nephew’s question, Pierce asked one of his own. “So you’ve decided to sprout those seeds hydroponically, huh?”

Benjamin’s whole face screwed up. “Hydro what?”

“In water,” he explained.

“But we’ve already planted ’em in dirt,” Jeremiah pointed out, confusion knitting his forehead.

“It was a joke,” Pierce told him. “Here, let me help you.”

He took the watering can and sprinkled the seeds.

Amy noticed how the muscles in his forearm firmed into long cords under his skin as he maneuvered the can. Like metal attracted by a magnetic current, she was helpless against the urge to move closer.

He smelled good. She didn’t want to notice the luscious heated scent of him, but she was helpless against that, as well.

“Are those seeds part of that new contract work you’ve started?” she asked, craning her neck to see around his shoulder.

“No, those are hybrids. I have several flats in different stages of growth, so I need to vigilantly protect them from any foreign pollen.”

After only a second, she gasped. “But I left the greenhouse door open.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “The seedlings are across the way in the lab, where I can monitor and control everything. Soil and air temperature, humidity, nutrient intake.”

Curiosity caught her in its grasp. “I’ve heard of hybrid plants. I’ve probably even seen them. But I’ve never been sure exactly what that term means.”

“Hybrid means heterogeneous in—” He stopped suddenly, twisting to face her as he seemed to rethink his explanation. “It means a plant or animal that’s the offspring of unlike parents.

“Hybrid plants are cultivated for different reasons,” he continued, his gaze becoming intense. “Sometimes people want flowers with variegated leaves or petals. Or bigger blossoms. Or a hardier root system.”