Nanny Needed

by Cara Colter

  She could hear the emotion in his voice. She felt so proud of him. She felt as if she had never loved him more.

  There was a long, long silence. Finally he spoke, whispered a single word.

  “Dannie.”

  He couldn’t possibly be crying. He couldn’t. Not the strong, totally in control playboy. Not the World’s Sexiest Bachelor. Not one of the world’s most successful entrepreneurs and resort visionaries.

  Her Joshua, the one she had always seen, while the rest of the world bought the role he was playing, was capable of this great tenderness, this great vulnerability, this final unmasking.

  “Dannie,” Joshua choked out, “they were waiting for me.”

  “Oh, Joshua,” she breathed his name, and then again in confirmation that he was exactly who she had known he was. “Oh, Joshua.”

  The tears of joy were coursing down her own cheeks.

  “I’ve spoken to his parents on the phone. And him. It’s funny, I had not grieved the death of his mother, until I had to tell him she was gone.”

  “Joshua.” Again his name came from her lips like a celebration, like a prayer.

  “I’ve arranged to meet my son and his adoptive parents this weekend. They live in Calgary. His name’s Jared. I—” he stopped, hesitated, his voice still hoarse with emotion “—I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Why?” she said. It was a hard question to ask, when everything in her just wanted to say yes. Scream yes.

  But his answer was everything. Everything. If he wanted her to come with him because of her skills as a nanny, it didn’t count. It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t even close. The seconds before he answered were easily the longest of her life.

  “I want you to come with me because this is the most important thing I’ve ever done, and I cannot imagine doing it without you. I want you to come with me because I trust you more than I trust myself,” he said, and then softly, ever so softly, “I want you to come because I think I could fall in love with you. I think I’m halfway there, already.”

  She couldn’t speak through the tears.

  “Dannie, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you?”

  The question asked more than whether she would accompany him to meet his son for the first time.

  It asked her to take a chance on this crazy, unpredictable, potential-for-heartbreak thing called love all over again.

  “Will I? Oh, Joshua, I’m just like them.” She took a deep breath. It did not stop her voice from shaking. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She didn’t even know how true that was until she spoke the words. She hadn’t even realized all of it—the canoeing and rock climbing, the boldly saying yes to life, all of it had been about being ready.

  Being the kind of woman ready to fall in love—sure of herself and her place in the world first.

  Not being needy, but being strong. Not needing another person to complete her, but bringing her whole self to a union.

  It was true, she had been waiting for Joshua. It was just as true that she had been waiting for herself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I’VE been waiting for you.

  The words, and his memory of them, had been like a lifeline through the past few days. He held on to them, he held on to the beauty of what he had heard in Dannie’s voice.

  Joshua Cole had been the prime player in million-dollar deals. He had taken a company from nothing and turned it into something. He single-handedly ran an empire valued in billions, not millions.

  And yet all that paled in comparison to how he felt about meeting his son. And about seeing Dannie again.

  It was as if, in all his world, only two things mattered. Only two things had become important.

  And both those things were all about the thing. Love.

  He waited at the Calgary International airport for Dannie, nervously holding a bouquet of flowers for her. He had purchased flowers for dozens of women, and it had never caused him so much anxiety, choosing each bloom personally, debating over daisies or roses, baby’s breath or lily of the valley.

  He saw Dannie coming through the door of the security area, and was astonished by the changes in her, knew that daisies were exactly right, unpretentious, simple, earthy, beautiful, hardy.

  Dannie looked as if she was twenty pounds lighter than she had been the first time he’d seen her. Gone was any vestige of the frumpalumpa. Today she was dressed in a white tailored silk shirt, a blazer, amazing low-riding jeans. He was aware he wouldn’t have any problem peeling those jeans off her if they got wet!

  Not that he wanted his mind to be going there since he was working so hard at being the man she deserved. Decent. Considerate. Strong. A man of integrity and honor.

  Her hair was, thankfully, the same jet-black gypsy tangle. She had made no effort to tame it, and it sprang around her head in sexy, unruly curls that his fingers ached to touch. She was tanned and healthy looking, her turquoise eyes subtly shaded with makeup that made them pop.

  He saw the man who came out the door ahead of her glance back, knew enough about male body language to know he was interested.

  Hey, buddy, I saw her first.

  And that was the truth. He had seen her, even before she had done one single thing to be seen.

  Joshua saw that though Dannie had always radiated calm, a ship confident of riding out the storm, now there were layers to that calm. He saw the confidence in her. And the purity of her strength. And he knew he had never needed it more.

  She saw him, and he didn’t think for as long as he lived, he would ever forget the look in her eyes. More than welcome. More than joy. Bigger.

  Homecoming.

  She flew into his arms, no reservations, and he picked her up and swung her around, felt his own welcoming answer to the look in her eyes, felt how right her sweet weight was in his arms, as if she belonged there, her softness melting into the firmness of his chest.

  Finally, he put her down and gazed at her, silent, wonder filled. He touched her hair, just to make it real.

  “Tonight is just you and me,” he said, picking up her bag, realizing he couldn’t just stand there staring at her forever, even if that’s what he wanted to do. “We’re going to meet Jared and his mom and dad for lunch tomorrow at their house, and if that goes okay, we’re going to go to the zoo.”

  “How are you doing?” she asked, seeing right through the illusion of control reciting the itinerary was supposed to give him!

  He smiled at how she could see right through the confidence of the designer suit, and the take-control businessman attitude.

  Just as he had seen her before anyone else had, she had seen him.

  “Terrified,” he whispered. Not just about Jared, either, but about making a mistake with her. Funny, he who had been classified as a playboy, felt he had no skill at being real. But he needn’t have worried.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” he asked, his voice faintly strangled.

  It sounded hilarious, like a teenage boy fumbling his way through his first date. He felt like a teenage boy, as if he wanted to get this so right. Before her arrival, he’d picked up the newspaper and been scanning it, looking for exactly the activity that would bring them back to the people they had been on that island several weeks ago.

  There were a number of live shows in town. Five-star restaurants had been recommended to him. But he had not bought tickets or made reservations because he didn’t want it to have that awkward-first-date feeling.

  Even though that’s probably what it was, he felt way past that.

  “Let’s order a pizza in the hotel,” she said, burying her nose in the bouquet, “and watch a movie in your room.”

  So simple. So perfect. Like daisies. Like her.

  “Um,” he actually felt shy, embarrassed. “I booked you a separate room. I didn’t think—” He was actually blushing, he could feel it.

  She threw back her head and laughed. “You were right, Joshua, you are go
ing to have to woo me. I’m not like the other girls.”

  “You aren’t,” he said ruefully. “Not a single soul I know could use the word woo seriously like that.”

  “Well, I intend to be wooed. I’m not just falling into the sack with you.”

  It was his turn to laugh, to tell the little devil on his shoulder to forget peeling off those pants anytime soon.

  That night they sprawled out on his bed in his room, eating pizza and watching movies, and he remembered how it had been that night with her in the cabin.

  Exhilarating. But comfortable, too.

  At eleven she kissed him good-night, her lips tender and full of promise. But then she went to her own room.

  The next morning she insisted they find a rock-climbing wall, because she said the tension was boiling off him.

  By the time she’d beaten him to the top of that wall three times, he didn’t have any energy left, never mind any tension.

  They went shopping together. He was going to buy Jared a teddy bear, but she rolled her eyes at that, and told him seven-year-old boys did not like teddy bears.

  Which was a relief, because then he got to look at the really fun stuff like remote control cars and footballs, skateboards and video games. He wanted to buy everything. Dannie, guiding him calmly through the jagged mountain terrain of the heart, told him to choose one.

  And so they arrived at Jared’s house at lunchtime, he with one remote control car, wishing he had a boxload full of toys to hide behind. He looked at the house, gathering evidence that somehow, despite himself, all those years ago, he had managed to do the right thing.

  It was an ordinary house on an ordinary street, well kept, tidy, loved. Behind the picket fence, peeping through the leaves of a mature maple tree, he could see a platform in a tree, looking over the yard. A bicycle leaned up against the side of the house. A volleyball lay in the neat grass.

  It pleased Joshua more than he could have said that the yard and the house indicated his son had enjoyed an ordinary life, an ordinary family, a life very different than the one Joshua could have given him if he’d hung on instead of letting go.

  A better life, he thought, surveying the yard one more time, feeling Dannie’s hand tightening in his, a life where everyone had put Jared first. Even the man who had been unaware that he had done so.

  Joshua had never in his life been as afraid as he was when he rang that doorbell. A dog barked from inside. A golden retriever, delirious with happiness greeted them first. A lovely woman came to the door, in her early thirties, a redhead with an impish grin and warm green eyes. Behind her stood her husband, as wholesome looking as apple pie, the guy next door who built the tree house and threw the baseballs until dark, and who probably got up predawn to coach the peewee hockey team.

  And then the world went still.

  Jared ran into the room, all energy and joy. By now, Joshua had seen his son’s picture, but it did not prepare him for how he felt. It seemed as if energy streamed off the boy, pure as sunshine. Jared was sturdy, with auburn hair and green eyes that danced with mischief, the confidence of a child who had known only love.

  He skidded to a halt, ruffed the dog’s ears, gazed at Joshua with intent curiosity.

  “You look like me,” he decided, “I couldn’t really tell from the picture. Hey, Mom, can I get a frog?”

  Until that moment, it felt to Joshua as if his life had been a puzzle, the pieces scattered all over the place.

  But with those words, Hey, Mom, can I get a frog and the sudden laughter that chased the awkwardness from the room, it was as if the pieces drew together and slid firmly into place.

  It seemed as if that moment, and all of life, was infused with light, as if, in spite of the efforts of people, rather than because of them, everything had turned out exactly as it was meant to be.

  Introductions were made, but they were an odd formality in this group of people that somehow already were, and always would be a family.

  The entire weekend, they did nothing special, and yet everything was special. Eating barbecued burgers in the Morgans’ backyard, playing Frisbee with the dog, touring the zoo, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed, trying to read him a story through the lump in his throat.

  Joshua Cole, who had specialized in giving ordinary people spectacular experiences made the humbling discovery that ordinary experiences were made spectacular by the people you shared them with, by the addition of one secret ingredient.

  Love.

  He discovered that sometimes a man had to work at love.

  But most of the time it was just brought to him, even though he might be completely undeserving of it.

  “I can’t think when I’ve had a more perfect weekend,” Joshua said as he strolled through the airport with Dannie on Sunday night. Her hand in his felt perfect, too.

  “Me, neither,” she said.

  In a few moments, the miles would separate them. How could he make the ache less, take away the sense of loss? Not just for himself, which was the way the old Joshua thought, but for her?

  He stopped in front of a jewelry store counter, and they looked at a display of sparkling diamond necklaces together. “Pick one,” he said. “Any one. To remember this weekend by.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Come on,” he said. “To remember me. To show you how much I care for you and am going to miss you until we meet again.”

  “No,” she said, more firmly than the first time.

  Too expensive, he thought, not appropriate for their first weekend together, though he had given far more expensive gifts for far less.

  “How about one of those, then?” he said, pointing to a glittering display of diamond tennis bracelets.

  “Joshua, no!”

  “Hey,” he said, “I’m wooing you!”

  “No,” she said, almost gently, as if she was explaining the timetables to a three year old. “That’s wowing. There’s a difference. I don’t need anything to remember this weekend by, Joshua.”

  “How am I supposed to woo you with an attitude like that?” he asked, pretending to be grouchy.

  “For you, Joshua, the easiest thing would be to shower me with gifts, with all the stuff money can buy. But that’s not what I want. I want the hardest things from you. I want your time. I want your energy. I want you fully engaged. I want you. You can’t win me by throwing your wealth at me.”

  He scowled at that. The weekend had gone so well he thought he’d already won her. He could now clearly see that wasn’t true.

  That she was going to make him work for her heart, and that she planned to give him a run for his money. He could clearly see that he was going to have to win her the old-fashioned way.

  And suddenly it felt like the most exciting challenge of his whole life. Better than any of it. Better than buying resorts, better than flying airplanes, better than thrill seeking, better than traveling to the seven wonders of the world.

  She was trying to tell him there was no destination. It was all about the trip. And the truth was, he couldn’t wait. He felt as if she was leading him to the eighth wonder of the world.

  Which existed for each man within the unexplored and unmapped territories of his own heart.

  “Dannie,” Melanie said, “could you just say yes? My brother is driving me crazy.”

  They were both standing at her picture window, looking out at the front lawn. Overnight three hundred plastic pink flamingos had appeared on it, splashes of color against the first winter’s snow. They spelled out, more or less, DANNIE.

  “It’s been six months,” Melanie said. “He’s more insanely in love with you every day. Just say yes.”

  “I don’t really know if the flamingos fit the criteria. He used money.”

  “He had to have rented them! Or borrowed them. Maybe he even stole them. He didn’t buy them. And I bet he was out there himself in the freezing cold spelling your name in tacky plastic birds. If that isn’t love, nothing is. Say yes.”

  “To wh
at?” Dannie said innocently. “He hasn’t asked me anything yet.”

  Dannie smiled at Melanie, allowed herself to feel the tenderness of the flamingos planted in a declaration of love for her. When she had challenged Joshua to woo her, without great displays of wealth and power, nothing could have prepared her for how that man rose to a challenge!

  The only exception she had made to her proviso about his using his wealth was plane tickets. Even she had to admit that it was pretty hard to woo someone unless you saw them.

  So, he flew to Toronto, and he flew her to Vancouver, or they met in Calgary to have time with Jared and the Morgans.

  Melanie was right. Her brother was crazy, but in the most phenomenal way. Never had a woman been wooed the way Danielle Springer was being wooed.

  While the weather had still been good, they had attended rock-climbing and canoeing schools together. To his consternation, Dannie insisted on paying her own tuition. She asked him to donate his offering to the classes Wilderness Ways offered to the Boys & Girls Club.

  He had found a guitar—he claimed it had been given to him, so that it was still within her rules of wooing—and sang to her outside his sister’s house. He neither knew how to play or how to sing. Listening to him murder a love song had been more endearing than him offering to take her to a concert in Vancouver, which she had said no to, firmly, when he had flashed the very expensive tickets in front of her.

  He had made her a cedar chest with his own hands, when she had refused the one he had wanted to buy for her after she had admired it at an antique store they had been browsing through. He didn’t know how to build anymore than he knew how to sing, the chest a lopsided testament to his love.

  He was slowly filling it with treasures, not a single one that money could buy. The chest held his mother’s wedding ring and his grandmother’s handmade lace. It held a bronzed baby shoe—his—and a baby picture of Jared. He was giving her his history.

  He had made her a locket to replace the one she had thrown away, only his was made out of paper maché and contained his thumb print. She had worn it until it threatened to disintegrate, and then she had put it in the chest with her other treasures.