Nanny Needed

by Cara Colter

With a wink, he said, “You’ll see.” He looked her over, taking in the jeans and joggers with approval, but frowned at her long-sleeved pink T-shirt. “You’ll be cold during the ride.” Reaching into the black container at the back, he pulled out a jacket almost identical to his.

  Jennifer flinched.

  “It’s my old jacket from uni days,” he said as if he hadn’t seen or noticed that she’d obviously thought it was Belinda’s jacket. “See the old political patches?”

  She saw, and slowly smiled, seeing a young, renegade Noah on his motorbike …

  “Feeling dangerous still?”

  She pulled it on, zipped it up and challenged, “Well?”

  “Let’s go.” He moved forward on the seat. She hopped on, fitted the helmet and wrapped her arms around his waist, almost unbearably excited. Her first real date in ten years or more, and he’d made it her deepest secret fantasy without even trying.

  “Hold on tight,” he yelled, and roared off. Feeling like a girl again, she squealed and held on tighter to him, loving that she had the right—for now.

  They flew through Hinchliff, leaving indignant residents in their wake. Jennifer couldn’t stop laughing. After years of a humdrum existence, she was a woman again, and she’d snatch every moment of it she could.

  Hitting the highway, he headed north, weaving through traffic with easy skill. Jennifer waved at all the kids who waved at them; she grinned at the women staring in envy. Lord knows, she used to feel envy at the glorious freedom of the bikers. She shivered. Until today—until Noah came into her life, she hadn’t known she’d been walking around half-dead. She was living now, really living … she was living out a dream with the man of her dreams. Who could argue with her happiness?

  “Cold?” he yelled over the thunderous noise of the engine beneath them.

  “No! It’s wonderful!”

  She felt the rumble of laughter shake his frame, and smiled back, even though he couldn’t see it. Who cared if she was being a Pollyanna? The feel of his body surrounding her was enough to make her smile for years to come.

  They flashed along the highway, with deep bush each side until it seemed to burst into clean lines of sand and the beach on one side, and tall, dark hills on the other. He roared off to the left, up the darkened road through steep hills covered in gum trees and tangled undergrowth.

  In her two years in Hinchliff, she’d never been up this way. “What’s up here?” she yelled.

  “You’ll see.” He geared down, and the engine became even louder—and she loved it. The cool, clean air, the dark forest, the feeling of mystery and adventure in not knowing where she was going with Noah—just being with him, without others around to monitor them … having fun without counting the cost.

  Oh, yes, this was the stuff of dreams. She almost felt young again. She felt happy.

  At the top of the hills—a crest far back from the first hill—he finally pulled up.

  Jennifer hopped off the bike and pulled off her helmet, her eyes wide with delight. “What is this place?”

  Noah grinned at her. “You like it?”

  “Definitely.” Shining-eyed, she turned in a slow circle. The street was cool and shady, seeming almost a part of the forest surrounding it. The houses and stores were in dark wood, looking both pretty and yet ancient. “Where are we?”

  “Lindenbrook. It’s a heritage-listed town. It was first built around 1902. They say some famous bushranger started the place as his cover. He ran a store when he wasn’t bushranging—or maybe his lady did.”

  “How did you find it?” She was still turning round and round, taking in the old wooden park, the Hollywood-cinema era café, the quilting store.

  Her eyes lit up.

  Noah laughed, and turned to chain the bike and helmets together. “I thought you’d want to have a look in there. Their range is more extensive than you’d think. I nearly bought you some stuff last time I was here, but the lady convinced me I’d probably buy the wrong stuff for you—she said quilters can be pretty choosy about what they want.”

  She noticed he’d avoided answering her question about how he’d found the place—and after a moment she knew why. She didn’t ask a second time. Why ruin the day with references to his search for his missing wife?

  “Do you still want the jacket?” he asked, in the quiet tone that told her she was right. He wanted to forget—and so did she—about anything that reminded them their time together would be too brief for them both.

  She shook her head, and unzipped the jacket, holding it out to him. “Have I got helmet hair?”

  “Shake it out a bit.” He came to her, minus his jacket—wearing a collarless long-sleeved shirt in the colour of storm clouds. “Let me.” His hands threaded through her plait, loosening it until the band fell out and her hair tumbled around her shoulders in loose waves. “Much better,” he said softly, his eyes deep and dark. Then he kissed her, long, sweet and gentle.

  She almost melted into a puddle at his feet. Her hands gripped his shoulders. “More.”

  “I love that word when you say it,” he whispered against her mouth and kissed her again, still with the tenderness that left her a shivering pool of heat and joy.

  “Coffee? Tea? Anything?” he asked long minutes later, in a taut, hot voice that told her he was close to losing control, out here in a public street.

  Without a word, she nodded.

  He wrapped his arm around her, putting her arm around his waist, and led her to the café, in the quiet of wanting too much. Afraid one word would break the constraints they’d agreed to.

  They had hot chocolate in a shadowed corner, and discovered how it tasted to sip chocolate from each other’s mouths; talking inbetween, about their lives and ambitions, about the verandah’s progress—nothing that led to awkward silence. She confessed her fascination with old thirties movies; he liked Jackie Chan. She liked romantic novels; he enjoyed biographies and sci-fi. He loved doing up old houses, and planned to make it a major part of his new business, especially since that was fast becoming the number-one query he was receiving from clients.

  He’d also found to his surprise that he loved living in Hinchliff. For a city boy, he’d discovered the love of quiet, and he never wanted to go back. “Dural’s pretty quiet, anyway. It’s a place with acreages everywhere, so it’s got the small-town feel, while being close to the city.”

  She nodded. “It’s similar in Swansea. It’s small suburbia, half an hour or more from Newcastle. I could never live right in a city. I like knowing most people in the area, and who the local policeman is.”

  They talked until they were interrupted. “Did you want to order anything else? Another hot chocolate, or maybe lunch?” the waitress asked, smiling as she came toward them.

  Noah checked his watch, and his brows lifted. “It’s after twelve-thirty.” He looked at Jennifer. “What do you want to do? The gourmet pizzas here are pretty sensational.”

  Surprised to discover she was hungry, she nodded.

  “It will take about twenty minutes. Want to go visit the craft and quilting store?”

  Her hand was in his already as she rose to her feet.

  The quilting store was one of those curio kinds of stores that hold a bit of everything that Jennifer adored. She wandered around twice, and found one or two items she’d been after for a long time. She took them to the counter with a massive smile of pride and happiness; but Noah had already pulled out his card when she reached for her purse. In his hand was the item she always lost: a thimble. In fact he had half a dozen of them. He grinned and winked and she felt the blush touch her cheeks. He knew why she’d stabbed her finger so often …

  “Put them all on one purchase,” he told the woman behind the counter. His tone told Jennifer he’d brook no denial on this. He was in charge today.

  It felt good to be cherished.

  While they wandered back to the café, Jennifer suddenly wanted to tell him something. “I sent Mark back to Newcastle yesterday.”


  Noah’s arm tightened around her waist. He turned her around to face him. “Did you tell him about me?”

  She laid a hand on his chest. “I told him there was a stubborn man next door with three adorable kids who made going back to him impossible.” She smiled and shrugged. “Not that he really wanted it, anyway. I think he was at a loose end between women, and thought he’d get taken care of for a while. Until he was ready to leave, of course.”

  “I doubt that—” Noah stopped as he thought about her words. There was something … he frowned as he realised. She’d told her ex about him yesterday—before he came to her last night. She’d told Mark about him, even when he’d made it clear he was cutting her out of their lives.

  For the first time, hope soared inside him. Did this mean she wanted him beyond this week? To toss her ex out of her life for him, within hours of his ending all connection with her—

  “Noah?”

  He kissed her: a butterfly kiss, but he felt her quiver and drag in a breath. “I’m glad you feel like that,” he growled. Now wasn’t the right time to say everything in his heart. She wasn’t ready yet. She’d show him in her time and way. He had to believe that, because she’d taken him body, heart and soul. Giving her up wasn’t an option anymore, even for the kids. Whatever Tim thought he wanted, all three of his kids needed Jennifer almost as much as he did.

  Now he had to make her want a life with him more than her longing for a baby of her own—more than her fears of inadequacy.

  The words were out before he’d thought it through. “Tell me what Mark said to make you feel as if you wouldn’t be good enough for me and the kids.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JENNIFER stared at him. “What?” Mark? He actually thought—

  She frowned and pulled away from him, feeling bewildered and betrayed. “You couldn’t even wait four hours, could you? I thought we were supposed to just enjoy the day, to enjoy our week together. But you’re pushing for what I’ve already told you is impossible!”

  The waitress arrived at the doorway, looking for them at that moment. “Your lunch is ready,” she called, with a smile.

  They walked back to the café, but without the tender connection of earlier—and she found herself grieving for what she’d only had for a few hours. He’d promised her a week …

  The waitress put the steaming pizza on their table, along with their cutlery and plates. “Enjoy, folks. Would you like something to drink with that? Some sparkling apple juice, or ginger ale, or cold water?”

  “No, thanks.” Though Noah smiled up at the woman, he had that repressed intensity about him again. The moment she was gone he turned back to her, his eyes burning. “Tell me, Jennifer. Tell me what he said that’s so important that you’d destroy our chance at a life together.”

  Denial was useless at this point; Noah knew she wanted to be with him. She wasn’t the kind of woman to play around. She’d never have kissed him, touched him or offered to make love, if her heart wasn’t deeply involved. “It wasn’t Mark. It was never Mark.” She could feel the shaking begin, deep inside. “He didn’t care about having more kids. He didn’t care about my defect. The only reason he left me was because I put Cody before him, and he couldn’t stand the constant sickness.” She lifted a slice of pizza onto her plate. “He tried to come back to me after Cody—he couldn’t understand why I didn’t joyfully welcome him back. He loved me, he said—he just didn’t want to come second, even for his sick three-year-old son. He was glad I wouldn’t have more kids!”

  After a long silence, Noah said, “Don’t despise him for hiding from the truth, Jennifer—or for not knowing you. He probably loved you in his way—he just wasn’t mature enough to want to put Cody first. Sometimes it’s easier to ignore stressful situations, to let someone else deal with them, or to run away, than stay and face the fact that you have to make changes in your life.”

  The unwilling empathy in his tone took her aback. “Did you run from Belinda? I can’t believe you’d ever leave your kids.”

  He gave her a small half smile. “Thanks for the faith, but there are many ways to run without leaving physically. I only learned to stop hiding my head in the sand when it was too late. I only grew up when I was left alone with three preschoolers and a mountain of debt I couldn’t even work off, because I had to stay home with the kids. It was only then I realised that though I’d always loved her, I loved the vision I had of her when we were kids, and when we were first married. I didn’t want to face how deep her depression was because it didn’t fit the way I wanted her to be.”

  “That’s why you didn’t divorce her until now, isn’t it?” she asked slowly.

  He shrugged. “There’s a bucket load of guilt in every direction I look. Things started getting bad for us when she fell pregnant with Rowdy. She didn’t want another child so soon after Cilla. When she mentioned abortion, I took it personally instead of seeing it as a cry for help. She was a fantastic mother, and I couldn’t see that she wouldn’t cope with three as well as two. She did everything for the kids, and I worked to pay the bills. I thought it was how things should be.” His face tightened. “I blinded myself to every sign of her depression because, to me, it meant I was going wrong, or I’d have to change something about me to make her happy.”

  “Is that why your in-laws blamed you for her disappearance?”

  “They had to know I was in denial. Belinda called her mother every day, and took the kids to visit three times a week. They would’ve known more than I did about her feelings, because I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to know.”

  She looked in his eyes, and instead of self-recrimination, she saw determination, and hidden purpose. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  His eyes remained steady on her face. “So you know the truth about me. I’m no prize. I’ll make more mistakes. You saw enough of them at the start. I was falling down when we met—without you and Joe I don’t know where I’d be now, let alone the kids.” He gathered her hands back in his. “But that’s not the reason I want a life with you. You know it isn’t.” His eyes were dark, intense on hers. “Marry me, Jennifer. Not for the kids, not because I need you, but because you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Because you love me as much as I love you.”

  The shaking went right down to her bones; tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t breathe. Dream and nightmare met and kissed, and temptation and desperate fear clawed right through her. “I can’t, I just can’t,” she babbled. “I’m sorry, but I told you I couldn’t.”

  Noah didn’t seem to be insulted, hurt or even taken aback. “That was a bit sudden, wasn’t it?” he asked, with a rueful smile. “I was going to ask at the end of the week.”

  Unsteadily she replied, “My answer will be the same, now or then.”

  “Are you saying you don’t love me?” he asked, the quiet tone in no way hiding the demand; but she didn’t know how she felt about anything right now, except that she couldn’t marry him. Helplessly she shook her head.

  “Do you know how you feel?” he asked, his gaze on her face: all her turbulent confusion must be very obvious. “I think you do care, Jennifer. I think you’re afraid to look at your feelings because it might hurt you too much.”

  “I told you why I wouldn’t marry again,” she mumbled, blinking hard, trying to hold in the tears. She hadn’t shed a tear since coming to Hinchliff … until an open-hearted man with three adorable kids walked in her back door, and she felt as if she’d been crying ever since.

  “You said you wouldn’t marry for the kids—or for love, because if you loved a man, you’d want his baby,” he said softly, his gaze holding hers. “Do you want my baby, Jennifer?”

  Yes! Yes! More than anything in the world!

  She gulped the massive hardness in her throat as the truth knocked her silly. The question, and her unconscious answer, made her see the truth far more than his flat-out demand to know if she loved him a minute before.

  Love. She’d loved him all along
, probably from the first day—but she’d refused to acknowledge it because this moment would always be inevitable, ready to destroy her fragile illusions of control. Because grief was crouching, ready to pounce on her like the monster under the bed that woke her at night when she was little.

  Because denial was the only hold on sanity she had.

  She loved him more than she’d ever thought to love any man, and she adored his children. She loved them almost as much as she’d loved Cody …

  Could it work? Could she make them all happy with almost? Could she mother his children and not long for more—or would she eventually hurt them all with what she couldn’t change?

  How could almost be good enough? This beautiful family deserved so much better than second best … and if he touched her now, if he said he loved her again, she’d—

  Break.

  The word she’d overheard Uncle Joe use that night, talking to Noah, was more appropriate than she’d have admitted only a week ago. Joe knew her too well; he knew this meant too much.

  Because Noah and his beautiful kids had become her world, and that terrified her.

  “Jennifer?” His voice, so tender and understanding, walked into her mind, soothing the turmoil just by being there. “It’s not as impossible as you think. We can work this out.”

  She couldn’t speak; she just shook her head. Some things couldn’t be sorted out.

  “Think about it, Jennifer. Why can’t this work for all of us? Why isn’t love enough? I know you love me, and you do love the kids.”

  Think? There was nothing to think about, but loving Noah and losing him. Yes, she loved his kids, but not as they deserved … they deserved a mother, not a woman giving them second-best love, making them a substitute for her own children …

  Watching her white face and blank, horrified eyes, he pushed aside the uneaten pizza. He’d blown it. Why hadn’t he waited? If he’d given her a week—

  He hadn’t known quite what to expect when he’d asked her about having his baby, but the look on her face left him speechless—the anguished longing and devastation combined.