Winning the Nanny's Heart

by Shirley Jump

  The tutor. Of course. Already, he’d forgotten about her appointment. Maybe he was the one who should have eaten his breakfast. Or, for that matter, had a cup of coffee. Thus far, Sam was lucky he’d had enough time to throw on some clothes and brush his teeth. And given that Charity hadn’t responded to his text yet, that meant he still didn’t have anyone to watch Libby, and his interview was in less than forty-five minutes... “Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I—” He threw up his hands and gave up trying to formulate any kind of excuse. How did he encapsulate months of feeling overwhelmed into one sentence? “It’s been a morning and a half. Katie Williams—Colton’s little sister, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Which made her probably only a couple years younger than Sam. He didn’t know why that mattered so much, but it suddenly did. “Colton’s a great guy.”

  “Who’s here?” Libby skidded to a stop beside him and poked her head around the door. “Hi. I’m Libby.”

  Katie bent down. “Hi, Libby. I’m Katie.” She raised her gaze and peered at the space behind Sam. “And who’s that?”

  Libby turned. “Oh, that’s my little brother, Henry. He’s shy.”

  Katie wiggled her fingers in Henry’s direction. “Hi, Henry. I’m Katie.”

  Henry stood at the corner for a second longer, then dashed back into the living room. He never uttered a peep. Not that Sam had expected him to. Henry had almost completely stopped talking after his mother died. Sam had taken his son to doctor after doctor, spent hours searching the internet, but the conclusion was the same—Henry would talk when he was ready.

  Lord, how Sam missed the sound of Henry’s voice. The curiosity in the lilting questions he used to ask. Sam’s heart ached, literally ached, for the things he had lost. The things he couldn’t change.

  Libby, the more outgoing of the two kids, just kept looking up at Katie with obvious curiosity. “Do you like dogs?” Libby asked.

  Katie smiled. “I love dogs.”

  One point in favor of Katie Williams. Hopefully, she liked dogs with plenty of puppy energy, because he could feel Bandit nudging past him. Just as Sam reached for the dog’s collar, Bandit leaped, paws landing on Katie’s chest. She stumbled back, and for a long, heart-stopping second, Sam thought she was going to fall down his porch stairs. Visions of hospitals and lawsuits popped into his mind. He reached for her, caught her hand, just as she recovered her balance and swayed forward. But then she overcorrected, and swayed straight into his chest.

  “Oh, God. I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, jerking away from him.

  He knew he should say the same, but for one long second there he hadn’t been sorry at all that she had touched him. Maybe it was because he’d been alone for so long, or maybe it was because she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but either way, a little frisson of electricity had run through Sam when Katie touched his chest. It was chased by a wave of guilt. Wendy had been dead for only a year and a half. What was he doing, reacting to another woman like that?

  “I’m the one who needs to apologize. My, uh, dog is still learning his manners,” Sam said, and thought it would be a good thing if his owner remembered his. “But please come in, have a seat while we talk. I can lock Bandit up if you want.”

  “Oh, no, the dog is fine. I love dogs, remember? Really.” Katie started to follow Sam into the house, with Bandit hot on her heels.

  “You can come with me,” Libby said. She put her hand in Katie’s and tugged her down the hall. “My father says I gotta be nice to people who come over to the house.”

  My father. Not Daddy. He hadn’t heard Daddy, or even Dad in a long time. He bit back another sigh.

  “And he’s supposed to be nice, too,” Libby added, giving Sam a pointed glare.

  Katie looked up at Sam and smiled. She had a nice smile. A really nice smile. “Is that so?”

  “Yup. ’Cuz sometimes he’s grumpy,” Libby added, thumbing in the direction of Sam.

  Sam groaned. That was the problem with kids. They said too much and always at the wrong time. “I’m not grumpy. Just...stressed.”

  “How come?” Libby asked.

  He ruffled his daughter’s hair. She stiffened, an almost imperceptible amount, but the distance was there. The easy relationship he’d had with his eldest had also disappeared in the last year and a half. Sam put on a bright face, pretending, as he always did, that he didn’t notice. That they were all just fine. “Because some people feed their breakfast to the dog.”

  Katie bit back a laugh. “My brother used to do that.”

  “Not you?”

  “Of course not. I was the good one.” Katie smiled when she said that, which sent his mind spiraling down a couple paths that were not appropriate for interviewing the tutor. Yeah, he definitely had been alone too long. That was all it was.

  Sam cleared his throat and gestured toward the dining room table. The kitchen was a mess—as was typical pretty much every day of the week—with dirty dishes piled in the sink, breakfast crumbs scattered across the table and countertops, and a set of muddy paw prints running circles around the table. They never used the dining room, which meant it was relatively clean, if he ignored the light coating of dust on everything. “Libby, go watch cartoons with Henry.”

  “But I wanna—”

  “Go watch cartoons with Henry. Please.” He prayed Libby wouldn’t argue, that she would just do what he said.

  Libby stood her ground a moment longer, but then the sounds of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck drew her into the other room. Sam had a brief moment of peace in his house, which meant he’d better get this interview done fast, before Katie realized things here were actually more like a zoo, and she ran out the door, like more than one nanny he’d interviewed.

  “Is there any chance you also want to be a nanny?” he asked, only half joking. Still no text back from Charity.

  “I’ve never been a nanny, or a tutor,” she said. “I’m a CPA, but I’m...looking for a new direction for now. I’m in town for a couple weeks while I think about my career options.”

  A CPA? What had Della been thinking? Talk about overqualified for the job.

  “Do you have any experience with kids?” He should have realized that when she showed up on his doorstep. Any tutor in her right mind wouldn’t be wearing heels and a figure-hugging pencil skirt.

  He glanced at his phone again. Nothing from Charity. Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was take the kids with him. He’d had to do that a few times with client appointments and the results had been...disastrous to say the least. He was still paying for the marker decorations that Henry had drawn on a custom-made leather sofa in one client’s office. It was almost impossible to carry on a conversation of any kind of substance with the kids in the room. And for him to show up at an interview with them...

  He might as well kiss the job goodbye. “You know, maybe we should reschedule. This is a crazy busy morning for me. If you could come back—”

  “No!” Libby’s shriek cut through the air like a knife. “No!”

  Sam bolted out of the chair and charged down the hall, his heart a tight ball in his throat. He never should have left the kids alone in the living room. This was how awful things happened, and if there was one thing that would break Sam, it would be one of his kids getting hurt. Or worse. Please be okay, please be okay.

  It was probably only ten yards from the dining room to the living room, but to Sam, it felt like ten thousand. “Libby? You okay?”

  “Henry took my bear when I was playing with it! He’s hurting him! Tell him to stop!”

  It took Sam a second to process the fact that Libby and Henry were both fine. Just engaged in a tug-of-war over a stuffed bear. Libby’s voice was at decibels usually reserved for rock concerts, the sound nearly outpaced by Henry’s screams. No words, just the frustrated screams that Sam had h
eard too much of in the last year and a half.

  “Henry, give Libby back her bear.”

  But Henry didn’t listen. Instead, he tugged harder, at the same time that Libby tugged in the opposite direction. There was a horrible tearing sound, and then an explosion of fiberfill in the air. The kids tumbled onto the carpet, each holding half a bear, like some kind of biblical division of property.

  The sobs multiplied in volume. Libby was screaming at Henry and Henry was screaming back, and Sam just wanted to quit. Quit being a terrible father. Quit being the chief everything when he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Just run away somewhere that was quiet and peaceful and clean.

  His wife would have known what to do. Wendy had had a way with the kids, a calming presence that seemed to bring everyone back to earth in seconds. God, he missed her, and how she could handle all these things that he sucked at. Wendy would have known whose bear that was, but Sam—Sam couldn’t even remember buying the bear.

  “No!” Libby screamed again. “Look what you did, Henry! You ruined him!”

  While Sam stood there, at a loss, with two kids in the throes of tantrums, Bandit ran into the fray and grabbed a chunk of bear, then darted into the corner like he’d scored a new chew toy. And Libby started to sob.

  Great, just great. Now how was he supposed to fix this?

  He stayed immobile, frozen with indecision, afraid of doing the wrong thing, making it worse. Katie brushed past him. “Don’t cry, Libby. I can sew this,” she said, bending down in the space between the kids. “Fix him up as good as new.”

  Libby swiped at her nose with the back of her arm. “You can?”

  Katie nodded while she gathered up the fiberfill and began stuffing it into the bear’s belly. Henry quieted, too, and just watched, eyes wide. “I learned how to sew when I was your age. If you want, I can teach you how.”

  “He doesn’t know how to sew,” Libby said, jabbing another thumb in her father’s direction.

  Katie shot Sam a grin. “Some daddies don’t and some mommies don’t. But if I teach you, then you’ll know and next time you can fix—” she tapped the bear’s decapitated head, then turned to Henry “—what’s his name?”

  Henry just stared at her. His fist clenched around the puff of stuffing.

  “A bear’s gotta have a name.” Katie smiled at Henry, then inched closer. Sam started to go in there, to stop her, to tell her Henry was just going to run from her, but Katie kept talking, her voice calm and soft. Mesmerizing. “When I was a little girl, I had a bear like this one. I used to get scared a lot when it was dark, and my big brother, Colton, would find my bear and bring it to me. He would tuck me in and tell me stories until I stopped being scared and I fell asleep. I shared my bear with my brother sometimes, too, and Colton even gave Willard his own nicknames. My bear was my bestest friend when I was little, and I bet this guy is your friend, huh?”

  Henry nodded.

  “My bear’s name was Willard, but my brother nicknamed him Patch, because he was fixed so many times he had a patch over his belly. He wasn’t near as nice as your bear. So,” Katie said, giving the bodyless bear a little tap on the nose, “what’s his name? I gotta know his name so I can fix him, and tell him it’s all going to be okay.”

  Henry shifted from foot to foot. Even though Libby knew the answer, she stood silently behind Katie, staring, waiting, just like Sam was. Katie just gave Henry a patient smile.

  Then, very slowly, Henry held out his hand and uncurled his tight fist. A pouf of fiberfill sprang up like a daisy in his palm. “Henry help fix George?”

  Henry’s little voice rang like a bell in the quiet of the living room. Libby turned to her father, mouth agape. Sam put a hand on his chest, sure he was hearing things.

  Henry had spoken. A handful of words, but to Sam, it might as well have been the Gettysburg Address. Henry had spoken—and Sam’s heart was so full, he was sure it would burst just like the bear.

  Katie nodded. “Of course Henry can help. And for the record, I think George is a terrific name for a bear.”

  “T’ank you,” Henry said quietly, then he dropped the puff of stuffing into Katie’s lap.

  Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t give a damn that Katie Williams had come in here looking like she was walking into court. He didn’t give a damn that she didn’t have much, if any, experience. If she could get through to Henry, he had little doubt that she could get through to Libby, too, and restore his daughter’s love for school. Katie had brought about a miracle that no one else had. She’d shifted the tides in a family too long on a rolling ocean, and for Sam, that was résumé enough. “You’re hired.”

  Chapter Three

  Katie wasn’t so sure she’d heard Sam right. She was hired? Just like that?

  And did she even really want the job?

  She’d be with these two kids for at least an hour at a time if she became Libby’s tutor. Small children with winsome faces and those little-kid voices. The very thing she had been looking forward to, before—

  Could she do it? Or would it be too painful?

  Katie was still kneeling on the floor between Henry and Libby, holding the tattered remains of George the teddy bear. Libby, who seemed ten times older than her age, came over and stood in front of her. She propped her fists on her tiny hips and cocked her brown curls to one side. “Are you gonna stay?” Libby’s eyes, so like her father’s, clouded. “Just ’cuz, you know, ’cuz our mommy died and...and... I really wanna fix George.”

  The naked honesty and pain in Libby’s face was almost too much to bear. Katie could see the yearning for a mother, the way that loss had impacted the little girl in a thousand ways, in the empty shadows in Libby’s eyes. Katie’s heart broke for Libby, and for little Henry, standing there silently, his thumb in his mouth, just watching her. Katie had no doubt Sam loved his kids, but he was clearly overwhelmed, and these two little ones needed someone. Being a tutor wouldn’t be all that tough, she figured, and she could help people who clearly needed help.

  And given the way the two kids were staring at her, with a mix of hope and wary trust in their faces, she knew they wanted that someone to be her. It felt nice to be needed, even if only for this little while. Katie knew what it was like to crave a parent who engaged. Who cared. Katie wasn’t going to be their parent, but maybe she could help fill some of the gaps.

  “Okay,” Katie said to Libby. “I’ll stay. We can fix George, if you have some thread and a needle?”

  Sam put out his hands. “If we do, I have no idea where.”

  “No problem. I’ll pick some up this week.” She bent down to Henry’s level again. “George is gonna need some special thread to be fixed. Can you wait for me to bring that over?”

  Henry gave her a reluctant nod.

  Libby ran into the other room, then hurried back. She thrust a stuffed dog into Henry’s arms. “Here. You can play with Puppy until then. But don’t break him.”

  Henry grinned, then clutched the stuffed animal close to his chest.

  “That was very nice, Libby,” Katie said.

  “Thanks.” A slow smile spread across Libby’s face, then she turned and grabbed Henry’s hand. “Come on, Henry. Let’s watch SpongeBob.” The two of them plopped on the sofa, with Libby working the remote to switch to the underwater cartoon.

  Katie rose and turned toward Sam. She’d accepted a job she wasn’t sure she wanted, without knowing a single thing about the hours, the pay, anything. That was as far outside the realm of how she normally operated as she could get. “So, maybe we should discuss the details.”

  He grinned. She liked his smile. It was warm, friendly, like the way brownies made you feel when you first pulled them out of the oven. He was a handsome man, six foot two, trim and muscular, with close-cropped medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was we
aring a T-shirt that seemed molded to his chest—not that she was complaining—and a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips. His feet were bare, and there was just something about the intimacy of that that made Katie feel like she was intruding in his space. From the moment she’d seen him, standing at the door, annoyed and flustered, she’d felt this warmth in her gut that rippled through her veins.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced down. “My appointment was just moved to nine thirty, which means I have time to finally have a cup of coffee. Do you want one?”

  “Coffee would be great.” And maybe with a mug in her hands she’d stop staring at the hot widower’s body. She followed him out to the kitchen, which looked pretty much like the tornado from The Wizard of Oz had just blown through. Dirty dishes teetered in the sink, a stack of newspapers lay scattered across the counter, crumbs littered the floor and the space around the toaster, and there was a pile of dirty laundry bulging out from the laundry room door like an impending avalanche.

  Yup, Sam was clearly stressed. A lot stressed.

  “Uh, sorry, I think I have a second clean cup here.” He opened a cabinet door, another, then finally unearthed two mugs from the back of the third cabinet he looked in. Sam poured her a cup of coffee, then held it out. “I don’t have any cream, but I do have milk and sugar.”

  “Black is fine. Thank you.” She sipped the coffee, a surprisingly rich and good brew, and kept her back to the counter rather than taking the only free chair at the kitchen table. The others had stacks of mail and toys piled on them, as if the rest of the house was coming for lunch.

  “Uh, sorry.” Sam rushed forward and scooped a pile of things off one of the chairs. He started to put it on the table, then thought better of that and pivoted to the left, depositing the toys and books onto the floor by a drooping and browning potted plant. “It’s, uh, been hard to work and watch the kids and...well, my last nanny quit a few weeks ago and the new one isn’t as good as the other one, and...” He let out a breath. “Mostly, I’m just not good at this juggling thing.”