Small-Town Nanny

Sam nodded. “She’s always been volatile. We thought it was because of her hand.”

Susan reached out and stroked Mindy’s blond hair, listening to the welcome sound of the child’s sleep-breathing. “Having a disability can be frustrating. Or she could have some other sensitivities. Some kids are just more reactive.”

“Did you learn how to be a child-whisperer in your special ed training?”

Susan chuckled. “Some, but mostly, you learn it when you have a brother with autism. Donny—that’s my little brother—used to have twenty tantrums per day. It was too much for my mom, so I helped take care of him.”

Sam’s head lifted. “Where’s Donny now?”

“Home with Mom in California,” she said. “He’s eighteen, and...” She broke off. He was eighteen, and still expecting to be going to a camp focused on his beloved birds and woodland animals, because she hadn’t had the heart to call and tell him she’d screwed up and there wasn’t any money. “He’s still a handful, that’s for sure, but he’s also a joy.”

Mindy burrowed against her father’s chest, whimpering a little.

“How long has it been since you lost your wife?” Susan asked quietly.

“Two years, and Mindy does fine a lot of the time. And then we have this.” He nodded down at her.

“Grief is funny that way.” Susan searched her mind for her coursework on it. “From what I’ve read, she might re-grieve at each developmental stage. If she was pre-operational when your wife died, she didn’t fully understand it. Could be that now, she’s starting to take in the permanence of the loss.”

“I just want to fix it.” Sam’s voice was grim. “She doesn’t deserve this pain.”

“No one deserves it, but it happens.” She put a hand over Sam’s. “I’m sorry for your loss. And sorry this is so hard on Mindy, too. You’re doing a good job.”

“Coming from you, that means something,” he said with a faint grin.

Their eyes caught for a second too long.

Then Angelica and Daisy came bustling back into the room—when had they left, anyway?—followed by Xavier. How long had she, Sam and Mindy been sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor?

“Hey, the potatoes are done,” Daisy said, expertly pouring the contents of one pan into another. She leaned over and called out through the open window. “Troy, how about those burgers?”

“They’re ready.” Troy came in with a plate stacked high with hamburgers, plus a few hot dogs on the side.

Sam moved to the couch at the side of the kitchen, cuddling a half-asleep Mindy, while the rest of them hustled to get food on the table. Susan folded napkins and carried dishes and generally felt a part of things, which was nice. She hadn’t felt this comfortable in a long time. Being around Mindy, she felt as if she was in her element. This was her craft. What she was good at.

Again, she couldn’t help comparing this evening to those she’d spent with her own family. The tension between her mom and dad, the challenges Donny presented, made family dinners stressful, and as often as not, the kids had eaten separately from the adults, watching TV. Susan could see the appeal of this lifestyle, living near your siblings, getting to know their kids. Cousins growing up together.

This was what she’d want for her own kid.

And where on earth had that thought come from? She totally didn’t want kids! And she didn’t want a husband. She was a career girl, and that was that.

So why did she feel so strangely at home here?

Chapter Three (#ulink_33dd3255-ea90-550d-bea4-625ede93af91)

A while after dinner, Sam came back into the kitchen after settling Mindy and Xavier in the den with a movie.

The room felt empty. “Where’s Susan?”

“She left.” Daisy looked up from her phone. “Said something about packing.”

“She’s going on a trip?” That figured. She seemed like a world traveler, much too sophisticated to spend her free summer in their small town. Applying for the job as Mindy’s nanny had probably been just a whim.

Then again, she’d mentioned needing to help support her mother and brother...

And why he was so interested in figuring out her motives and whereabouts, he didn’t have a clue.

“No...” Daisy was back to texting, barely paying attention. “She’s gotta move back home for the summer.”

“Move?”

“Yeah, to California.”

“What? Why?”

Daisy was too engrossed in her phone to answer, and following a sudden urge, Sam turned and walked out into the warm evening. He caught up to Susan just as she opened her car door. “Weren’t you even going to say goodbye?”

“Did I hurt your feelings?” she asked lightly, turning back to him, looking up.

She was so beautiful it made him lose his breath. So he just stared down at her.

It must be the way she’d helped Mindy that had changed her in his eyes, softened her sharp edges, made her not just cute but deeply appealing.

And he obviously needed to get on with his dating project, because he was having a serious overreaction to Susan. “Daisy said you’re leaving town.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, in a few days. Got to go back to California for the summer.”

“You’re not driving that, are you?” Lightly, he kicked the tire of her rusty subcompact.

“No! I’m taking the Mercedes.” She chuckled, a deep, husky sound at odds with her petite frame. “Of course I’m driving this, Sam. It’s my car.”

“It’s not safe.”

She just raised her eyebrows at him. As if to ask what right he had to make such a comment. And it was a good question: What right did he have?

The moonlight spilled down on them and the sky was a black velvet canopy sprinkled with millions of diamond stars. He cleared his throat. “Does this mean you don’t want the job?”

“Does this mean I’m still in the running?” There was a slightly breathy sound to her voice.

They were standing close together.

“You are,” he said slowly. “I liked... No. I was amazed at how you were able to calm Mindy.” He couldn’t stop looking at her.

She stepped backward and gave an awkward smile. “Years of experience with my brother. And the coursework. All the grief stuff. You could call a local college, find someone with similar qualifications.”

“I doubt that. I’d like to hire you.”

“We don’t get along. I wouldn’t be good at this. I mean, nannying? Living in? Seriously, ask anyone, I’m not cut out for family life.”