Single Dad Needs Nanny

by Teresa Carpenter

  Emmy trotted ahead, looking less unwell by the moment, but wiping her nose on her other sleeve. She let go of Alice’s hand and climbed onto a much more ordinary-looking bed that had plain, dark wooden ends.

  ‘Why do you like it more than yours?’ Alice tried not to look around, but she couldn’t help seeing the crumpled shirt in the corner and the handful of coins carelessly dumped on the chest of drawers.

  ‘Coz Daddy’s in here.’ Emmy sounded as though Alice should have already known that, but she’d been more successful in trying not to think about it than looking around the room, hadn’t she?

  Trying not to imagine him with his head on those pillows, sprawled across what was a very large space for one person to sleep in. Wearing…what, just pyjama pants and nothing else? She turned away quickly. What if Emmy later told her father how red Alice’s face had gone when she’d been in his room?

  ‘Bath time,’ she said firmly. ‘And then we’re going to make a fire and some dinner and you can find all your favourite stories for me to read to you.’

  ‘When’s Daddy coming home?’

  ‘When he’s finished at work.’

  ‘Before bedtime?’

  ‘I should think so. What time do you have to go to bed?’

  Emmy’s eyes might be too bright to be healthy but they hadn’t lost their determined glint. ‘When Daddy tells me to.’

  He was a lot later than he’d wanted to be. It had taken time to sort all his patients enough to be happy to transfer their care, and it was after 7:00 p.m. by the time Andrew made it home. He was tired enough to be thinking it was crazy to be living this far from town.

  Yesterday’s scare with Emmy, a virtually sleepless night and a full-on day with the extra worry of how unwell Emmy might be adding more tension to the last few hours had drained him utterly. His briefcase felt like a lead weight as he dropped it by the hall stand. He pulled off his jacket and snagged it onto a hook and then turned to move towards the kitchen end of the vast hallway.

  Something felt very different from the previous times he’d arrived home here. Was it the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen? The warmth he could feel from the slightly ajar doorway that led to the old library? Or was it what he could see in the soft glow of lamplight when he pushed that door open?

  Alice sat on one end of a couch, holding a book she was reading from, with her other arm around the lumpy shape that was Emmy all bundled up in a duvet.

  Maybe it was because he was exhausted and hungry and worried about his daughter that made this scene seem poignant enough to make his throat constrict painfully. Or maybe it was a combination of this and the warmth and the smell of food. It made him feel as if he’d actually come home for the first time he could remember since being a child himself.

  Alice stopped reading as he moved further into the room. She smiled but said nothing.

  Andrew looked at the still shape beside her. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Sound asleep,’ Alice said softly. ‘She had her dinner an hour ago and another dose of paracetamol about thirty minutes ago. I put a hot-water bottle in her bed.’

  ‘I’ll take her up.’

  He had to bend down to gather Emmy and the duvet into his arms, which put him close enough to feel the warmth of Alice and to imagine what it had been like for Emmy, cuddled against her and listening to her voice reading a story as she drifted to sleep.

  It would have felt like home. Like having a real mother for the first time in her short life.

  Just as well he had to leave the room and attend to his daughter. Andrew needed time to shake off this odd sensation that he suddenly had regarding Alice Palmer—that he no longer wanted to evict her.

  That he wanted…needed to keep her in his life somehow.

  He came back downstairs to find her taking a hot meal from the oven for him. A rich-smelling beef casserole and baked potatoes. Homely comfort food.

  ‘Have you eaten?’

  She nodded. ‘I had some with Emmy.’

  ‘Would you like a glass of wine? I think this—’ he looked down at the plate of food on the table ‘—deserves the best red I can find.’ He reached into the wine rack beside the old Aga stove and then turned to search a drawer for a corkscrew.

  ‘I…shouldn’t. Jake will be wondering where his dinner is.’

  ‘Please…stay for a few minutes.’ Andrew pulled out a chair. ‘I need to thank you properly and I want to ask about how Emmy’s been, but if I don’t eat I might fall over in a huge heap. Lunch was so long ago I can’t even remember whether I ate it.’

  Alice sat but it was on the edge of her chair. Andrew put two glasses and the open wine bottle in front of her. ‘Could you carry these, please?’

  Now she looked really nervous. ‘Where to?’

  ‘To enjoy that lovely fire you made.’ He picked up his plate. ‘Coming?’

  ‘Just for a minute or two.’ The agreement sounded deliberate. ‘There is something I’d like to talk to you about.’

  He didn’t find out what that something was until he’d eaten his whole plateful of that delicious food. Until he was warm and full and quite happy with what Alice had been telling him about Emmy’s condition. The wine was also contributing to making him feel extraordinarily good.

  ‘What was it,’ he enquired, ‘that you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘Childcare.’ Alice got up from the other couch to put another log on the fire.

  ‘Ohh.’ The sound was a groan. ‘Ringing the agency was on my list for today but I didn’t get a spare minute. Thank you again for your help. I don’t know how I’d have managed without it.’

  ‘It was no trouble,’ Alice said quietly. ‘I…enjoyed it. Emmy’s a delight.’

  ‘You didn’t have to go the extra mile like this.’ Andrew set his empty plate on the floor by his feet.

  ‘It was an idea I had,’ Alice said slowly. She was still kneeling beside the fireplace. ‘I wanted to show you rather than just talk about it.’

  Show him? Andrew’s head felt a little fuzzy. Had to be the wine because he was looking at her kneeling there with the firelight playing on her hair and face and he thought she was talking about making the fire and dinner and caring for his child. Being a homemaker. A mother to Emmy. A…a wife?

  And, God help him, but the idea was very, very appealing.

  ‘I could be a nanny,’ he heard Alice saying. ‘And…a kind of housekeeper. It could work, if I juggled my shifts a bit so I did nights or weekends when you weren’t on call.’

  ‘Why would you want to do that? What’s in it for you?’

  ‘My home,’ Alice said simply. ‘I wouldn’t want to be paid or anything. I’d just like to keep living in the cottage and you said you needed it for someone who would help with Emmy and things. I can do that. I’d like to do it. What…what do you think?’

  What did he think? Andrew was aware of a ridiculous wash of disappointment that his tired brain had come up with entirely the wrong scenario. This was a business deal, nothing more.

  Except…it could be more. They already had a bond of a past they didn’t want to share with others. And a new bond through Emmy. This arrangement could give them a new base. An opportunity for each of them to provide something the other wanted instead of a threat of removing something. A positive spin on a situation they both needed to deal with.

  A fresh start, even.

  ‘It might work,’ he said slowly. ‘But…’

  ‘…But?’ Alice’s eyes were huge. Fixed on him.

  Andrew found himself leaning closer. ‘But we’d have to trust each other.’ And that was a problem, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he sworn never to trust another woman after what Melissa had put him through?

  ‘I trust you,’ Alice said softly. ‘Do you think you can trust me?’

  She didn’t break the eye contact and Andrew was close enough now to see the flecks of gold in her eyes as the flames beside her flickered. He could see the tangle of dark lashes around them and the pale, smooth skin of
her face. He could hear the hitch of her breath. Or was that his own?

  How come he’d never noticed before that she was such an extraordinarily beautiful woman? A man could fall into eyes like those and not even want to save himself from drowning. It was all he could do not to lean further forward and touch her lips with his own.

  ‘Yes,’ he heard himself saying a little raggedly. ‘I know I can.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS enough.

  That he trusted her and that she could keep the home she loved.

  That she didn’t have to try and achieve the impossible and make herself hate him.

  This was a trial period but, even if Alice hadn’t been so determined to make it work, it became rapidly clear that her idea had been brilliant. A bit of juggling was needed in the early days, but their colleagues were willing to help ensure that their shifts didn’t clash and that one of them always had their days off on weekends. A routine was established with such astonishing ease it was hard for Alice not to think that this was meant to be happening.

  That finally, for the first time in her life, the planets were aligning themselves exactly the way she would have dreamed.

  On a day shift, Alice headed to work early and Andrew got Emmy ready for school and dropped her into the care centre on his way to work. Alice would finish at 3:00 p.m. and could get to school to collect Emmy without her needing after school care. They would shop for groceries if needed on the way home and Alice would help Emmy with her homework, do housework like washing or ironing and then prepare dinner.

  Caring for her pets was not an issue. Emmy was only too keen to visit Ben and help groom and feed him and Jake was more than welcome in the house where he would always have hero status.

  If Alice had an afternoon shift, she took Emmy to school in the morning and Andrew collected her on his way home. She was more than prepared to put the extra effort into her side of this bargain. Especially when Andrew refused to take any further rent for her cottage or grazing land.

  ‘You have no idea, do you,’ he said to silence her protests, ‘how much this will be worth to me if it works?’

  And it was working, even with nights shifts factored in. When Alice had a night shift, she looked after Emmy in the morning and slept while the little girl was at school and when Andrew had to be at the hospital overnight she slept in the big house.

  That first morning was a little awkward, certainly, when Andrew arrived home to find her making an early morning cup of tea in the kitchen, still in her pyjamas, but moments of discomfort like that wore off remarkably quickly. Or got dispensed with. Like Alice leaving to go back to the cottage when Andrew arrived home in the evenings to the meal she had prepared.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he told her during the second week. ‘You don’t need to cook twice. Three times if you count feeding Emmy early. Stay and eat with me.’

  If Emmy was still up, they would take their plates of food and eat in front of the fire and sometimes Emmy was allowed to toast marshmallows. If she was asleep, they would eat at the kitchen table. Being alone with each other in front of a fire would have been stepping over an unspoken boundary. This was, after all, an arrangement that happened to suit them both. No more than a second job for Alice. It had nothing to do with a more personal relationship.

  Conversation was limited to either Emmy or work. By another tacit agreement, there was a boundary on a timeline. They didn’t talk about the time they had worked together previously and they never stepped further back than that to learn anything about families or growing up. It was as if a completely new start was being made and it was either too early or inappropriate to venture into personal space.

  And it was enough.

  Too much, perhaps.

  Given how well things were working, it was inevitable that somewhere along the way in those first weeks hope was born again.

  And it blossomed.

  Maybe it was the softening Alice saw inAndrew’s face as the tension of making this new life work lessened. The smile that accompanied the appreciation he never failed to communicate. Or perhaps it was the day when they both happened to have a Saturday off work and Andrew had knocked at the door of the cottage mid-morning, with Emmy clinging to his hand and beaming triumphantly.

  ‘We were wondering,’ Andrew said, ‘whether you might be available for a trip into town.’

  He was wearing his faded jeans and a warm jersey, his dark blond hair a little more tousled than it ever looked at work, and Alice realised that any downside of this arrangement and the subsequent shift juggling that meant seeing less of him in the emergency department was more than made up for by seeing him like this in his role as a father and on his home ground. Being privileged enough to share a part of his private life.

  Quite apart from the smile currently deepening the grooves on his cheeks and making the corners of his eyes crinkle. A smile that could easily persuade Alice she would be available for a trip to the moon if he happened to be asking.

  Emmy was bouncing with excitement. ‘For shopping,’ she informed Alice. ‘For me.’

  ‘Em’s a bit short on clothes and shoes and things,’ Andrew added. ‘And…um…you’re a girl.’

  ‘Like me!’ Emmy crowed.

  ‘And…as it’s been pointed out to me more than once this morning, I’m not.’

  ‘No…you’re not…’ Alice was caught. Falling into the blue eyes of the man on her doorstep. Eyes that told her she wasn’t a girl at all. That she was a woman and that Andrew was a mere male. And that he was as aware of the implications of that as she was.

  And Alice knew she was lost. That she would always be lost unless—until—Andrew found her.

  She was here. She would always be here. When he was ready and if he chose to find her, it would be so easy.

  ‘I’d love to come shopping,’ was all she could say.

  It was at moments like this that Andrew had to remind himself very firmly that this was merely a business arrangement. That Alice was doing this because she needed accommodation for herself and her pets.

  The problem was, it was working so well that at odd moments, Andrew was inclined to forget. Like now, with Emmy on her booster seat in the back and Alice in the front passenger seat of his car as they made their way into the city for the shopping expedition.

  Somehow, over the period of about a month, Alice had become such an integral part of their lives that he couldn’t imagine her not being here.

  He’d been singing along with both of them to some silly song about caterpillars that was on Emmy’s favourite CD but he trailed into silence that nobody seemed to notice. It was a sparkling winter’s day with the clearest blue sky he’d ever seen and a breathtaking view of the Southern Alps with a good coating of snow. And his daughter sounded so happy Andrew found himself smiling.

  Then he glanced to his left, to where Alice was sitting there in her jeans and a soft-looking jumper in a shade of deep russet…just like the loose braid of hair that fell over her shoulder. She was gamely trying to keep up with a chorus that involved a lot of numbers to do with caterpillar legs and she was using her fingers to try and keep track. Slim, capable, elegant fingers and hands that were a perfect match for the rest of her body.

  A body that Andrew was finding increasingly attractive. An attraction Andrew couldn’t give in to because he would be risking a status quo that was—almost—perfect.

  His smile faded as he found himself wishing away the past. Wishing that he could be the man he used to be—untainted by a past that had destroyed such a big part of his heart.

  Wishing that he’d noticed her properly all those years ago instead of being blinded by Melissa’s charms and the flattery of being apparently adored. Before his ability to trust at that level had been damaged beyond repair.

  But if he wished all that away, it would mean Emmy wouldn’t exist and she was the sun in his universe. His first adult experience of unconditional, reciprocated love. The need to cherish and protect his daughter had fli
ckered into life the moment he’d held his newborn in his arms and the flame only burned more brightly as the years had gone by.

  No. He couldn’t do anything that would pose a threat to this arrangement that was ensuring Emmy’s wellbeing and happiness. Alice might run a mile if she knew how he was feeling and how hard it was to try and keep his hands off her. He would be abusing a position of power over her as her landlord. Or employer or whatever role she now saw him as having.

  Except…Having to concentrate on the traffic as they made their way into the central city gave Andrew an excuse to let his thoughts wander a little further down that track. Sometimes, he had the impression that Alice might feel the same way. The way she smiled, for example, when he came home from work to a house that was feeling more and more like the home he’d always dreamed of. Or when she seemed to be reluctant to head back to the cottage and leave him to tackle the dishes when he insisted on contributing to the housework. Or like that moment outside her cottage today when he’d told her that Emmy wanted female companionship for the shopping trip.

  Was it just wishful thinking that made him imagine a crackle of sexual tension?

  If so, he was being an idiot. There was no guarantee that any relationship would work, no matter how eager the participants were. He’d learned that painful lesson very thoroughly. And if he started something that turned to custard it would be far worse for both himself and Emmy when Alice made an exit from their lives. The routine they had going now was making it possible for him to settle into his new job and for Emmy to settle into the huge change of starting school.

  She’d grown up so much in the last few weeks. His little girl had left babyhood well behind. Her confidence and determination seemed to grow stronger every day. She certainly knew what she wanted when it came to choosing clothes.

  ‘I want jeans,’ she announced. ‘Like Alice’s. And boots.’

  ‘Boots?’

  ‘You know—the ones with the stretchy bits on the sides.’