The Nanny's Secret Child

Inhaling one last calming breath, Julie straightened and turned to go. As she grasped the doorknob, the anxiety churned up again, buckling her knees. What would Gil Montgomery say if she told him the truth? That the child he called Abby was the baby girl she gave up for adoption eight years ago?

Chapter Two (#ulink_c571964e-b0af-50e8-98f0-e6ea06f3c38a)

With great effort, Julie managed to regain control and return to the kitchen. Mr. Montgomery looked up as she entered.

“Miss Bishop, I know you weren’t supposed to start work until tomorrow, but I need to run to the office. It’s only a few miles away. I was wondering if you could stay with Abby for a half hour or so. You could get better acquainted while I’m gone. Of course, I’ll understand if you can’t.”

A million possibilities raced through her mind. What she wanted to do was run home, bury herself in bed and sort out all the emotions surging through her heart before she exploded. Yet having the chance to remain here and spend extra time with her child was a blessing she couldn’t pass up, even though the danger and the potential emotional stress would be difficult.

“I’d be happy to stay. Abby can show me around, help me find things I might need.”

Montgomery looked a bit leery, but nodded. “Good. Thank you.” He stooped down beside Abby. “Will you be okay here with the new nanny? I won’t be long.”

Abby shrugged, clutching her backpack a bit closer. Montgomery raised a hand as if to stroke her hair, then let it fall, getting to his feet. The gesture caused a twinge in Julie’s heart and raised a number of questions. Why was Abby so indifferent toward her father and why was he so reluctant to show his affection? Clearly there was a barrier between them. She smiled to cover her concern.

“All right, then. I shouldn’t be long.” He handed Julie a business card with all his numbers. “Don’t hesitate to call me for anything.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” She gave him her most reassuring smile, but the moment the door closed behind Gil Montgomery, Julie began to question her decision. Her only hope to keep from sinking into a pit of emotional quicksand was to don her professional facade, lock it down tightly and move forward. She faced Abby with her most engaging smile. “I’m feeling like a snack, how about you?”

With some assistance from Abby, Julie found plates, glasses and a tin of oatmeal cookies. After pouring two glasses of milk, she settled at the table, watching the little girl eat a cookie and take a sip of her milk. Julie took a bite of her cookie, but it turned to sawdust in her mouth. “These are really good cookies. Did you make them?” The question drew a puzzled frown from the little girl.

“My grandma made them.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one.” Even though she couldn’t choke one down, she had to admit they were soft, chewy and very tasty. “She must be a very good cook.”

Abby shrugged again. “She had to go away.”

Hope blossomed in Julie’s heart. At least they were conversing now. For a while she’d feared the only source of communication would be shrugs and nods. But the resigned tone in Abby’s voice bothered her. “I know. You must miss her.”

One corner of the little mouth twitched upward. “Everybody goes away.”

A sharp barb pricked her nerves. “But they come back. Your dad said that as soon as his sister is well, she and your grandma will come home.”

“Mommy won’t come home.”

Julie’s insides twisted at the sadness in the child’s voice. She resisted the urge to scoop her up into a hug. “I’m so sorry about your mom. You must miss her very much. But you’re here with your daddy now, so everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Abby shoved her plate back and glared. “He doesn’t want me here.”

Julie stared at the little girl a moment, replaying everything she’d seen and heard since arriving at the house. If first impressions counted for anything, then Mr. Montgomery was a devoted father. The relationship between him and his daughter was strained, but she’d seen no indication that he resented his child being here. “Oh, Abby, I don’t think that’s true. I’m sure he loves you very much and he’s happy to have you here with him.”

Abby clammed up. She stared down, backpack clutched tight. Conversation over. Time to change directions. “Well, let me clean up, and then you can show me around so I won’t get lost tomorrow when I come to stay with you.”

“I don’t need a nanny. That’s for babies.”

“Not always. In some countries nannies take care of children until they’re all grown up.”

“That’s silly.”

“I think you might be right. Well, why don’t you think of me as a friend who will watch out for you while your daddy is at work and until your grandma comes home?”

Abby mulled that over, a frown folding her little forehead. “What do I call you?”

“How about Miss Julie? That way it’ll sound more like we’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“Good, because I want us to become friends.” Was that possible? Could she have a relationship with her child beyond that of fill-in nanny? The truth shouted inside her head, burning through her heart. Impossible. She wasn’t even supposed to know who Abby was, let alone be here taking care of her. The truth could never come out. It would be disastrous for everyone involved. The father would be furious. He might bring charges against her or the agency. Agatha Montrose, the owner of the Nanny Connection Agency, was her friend and mentor. She’d never considered what would happen to her, not to mention Julie’s own reputation, should the truth come out. But most important of all, what emotional damage would it do to Abby? A swell of anxiety crashed over her senses. She stood, struggling to hold herself together. She had to calm down. No one knew about Abby except DiDi. Julie’s own parents didn’t know. She’d never told them she was pregnant. Not that it would have mattered one way or the other to them.

Julie gathered up the plates and glasses, taking her time at the sink, rinsing and stacking them on the counter. Doubts about this decision bombarded her from every direction. This had seemed like a gift from God at first. She’d been convinced it was the answer to her long-uplifted prayers. But now... Slowly she wiped her hands on a towel, giving herself time to regroup.

Since the day her baby was born, she’d been plagued with one question. Not, had she done the right thing in giving her up—she’d had no choice in that regard. Alone, penniless with no one to turn to, she’d known the only future she could offer her baby girl was to give her to a couple who could provide a home, brothers and sisters, love and security.

The question that had haunted her all these years was whether or not her child was happy and well cared for. Did her adopted parents love her as much as her birth mother did? That love had been the only way she’d been able to let her go. Julie fingered the small silver heart with the birthstone in the center. The only reminder of the little girl she had given up.

DiDi had somehow managed to get the name of the adoptive parents and given it to her. She’d always known the Montgomerys had taken her child, and that they lived in Mississippi, but she’d never acted upon the knowledge. She’d never looked them up, never tried to find where they lived, believing in her heart that it was best for her baby.

Until the day Gil Montgomery’s name had appeared at the agency, requesting a short-term nanny. The application stated he’d lost his wife a few months ago and he needed a temporary caregiver for his daughter. Julie carefully folded the towel, glancing over at Abby, still sitting quietly at the table. She might have resisted the need to assure herself of her child’s well-being if it hadn’t been for her move to Paris.

The only obstacle to her dream move was her gnawing fear. Stories about adopted children who’d been mistreated, neglected or even given up again never failed to fuel a torrent of doubt and fear in her heart. What if her baby was with a family that didn’t truly love her? If Julie knew her baby was happy, in a loving environment, then she could leave the country secure in the knowledge that it had all been worth it.

Julie closed her eyes, thanking the Lord for allowing her this chance. Five days. Enough time to allay her fears, to get to know her child, to gain peace and perspective before closing the door on this part of her life forever. And this was a blessing from God. It had to be.

She smiled at the little girl. “Okay, I’m ready to see your house. Where do you want to start?”

Begrudgingly, Abby scooted out of her chair, nodding toward the counter. “This is the kitchen.”

She chuckled. “Really?” Abby didn’t laugh with her, but she did move her mouth to one side. Julie followed the little girl through the downstairs rooms, pointing out each area with little fanfare. She noticed the whole house was in need of love and attention. She had a feeling the people who lived here might have that same need. She shook off the worrisome thought. She needed to think with her head, not her heart. Abby had been in Dover only a short while, and her long-term well-being wasn’t her concern. Only her day-to-day care.

Back inside, she followed Abby upstairs.

“This is my room.”

Julie took a quick survey of the large space. There was something odd about the decor. The pink paint was an unusual shade, the bedspread clashed with the pillows, and the curtains were more suited for a nursery. Then it hit her. This room was decorated by a man who had no idea what a little girl’s room should look like. It was not the room an eight-year-old girl would dream about. Julie looked for something positive to say. “This is a really nice room. Look at all the sunlight you get.”

“It’s pink. I hate pink. I like purple. My other room was purple.”

“It’s not hard to paint walls. I’ll bet if you told your daddy that you’d rather have a purple room, he’d change it for you.”

Abby tossed her backpack onto the bed, then climbed up beside it, arms crossed over her little chest. “No, he wouldn’t.”

She sat beside her. “What makes you say that?”

“He doesn’t want to be my daddy. Aunt Pam said so.”

Julie’s concern rose. Was this chip on her shoulder a result of grief and being taken from her home, or was there something more behind her attitude? If this were any other assignment, Julie would just go on about her job. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“I’m sure your Aunt Pam didn’t mean that. Sometimes when grown-ups are angry at each other, they say things they don’t mean. Your daddy brought you to this nice house and this town so you could be close to your family. Like your grandmother. You like her, don’t you?”