Winning the Nanny's Heart

by Shirley Jump

  That made Sam admire Katie even more. She had fit in so easily in this house, better than any of the previous nannies. “So how is it that you knew just what to do to get my kids to relax and open up and laugh for the first time in forever?”

  “Easy,” Katie said. “I just did the opposite of what my mother did.”

  “Well, you’re doing a fabulous job. Even if you are a Packer fan.” He gestured toward the shirt.

  “Let me guess. You’re more of a Pats fan. Or the Colts.”

  “Bears all the way, baby.” He grinned, then grinned some more when the “baby” made her blush.

  “A Bears fan? I knew you were too good to be true.” She grinned back at him.

  He took a step closer, his sandwich forgotten. “You thought I was too good to be true?”

  “For maybe a blip of a second.”

  “And yet you won’t go out with me?”

  “It’s...complicated.”

  He stared down into her eyes and thought he could spend hours right here. “You keep saying that, but I don’t see anything complicated about you, Katie. So what do you say? Dinner tonight after the fire station? I can ask Della to take the kids for a couple hours.”

  “I’m not dressed for dinner and—”

  “Where we are going, you don’t need anything but what you have on right now.” He placed his palm on the counter, a millimeter from hers. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted to do a whole lot more than that, but Henry was twenty feet away, playing with his trucks, and the cookies were nearly done, and...

  Sam didn’t want to screw it up. He was new to dating again, not even sure he should be dating, but unable to resist this woman. The last thing he wanted to do was rush it. Maybe that was why she had said no yesterday. Because he had gone and kissed her first, asked her out second.

  “So, it’s a date?” he said. Was it? Even he wasn’t sure.

  She hesitated. “I’m not looking for anything permanent, you know.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” Now he did reach up and brush one of those stray tendrils off her cheek. “It’s just a date, Katie, not a lifetime commitment.”

  * * *

  Just a date, not a lifetime commitment.

  Uh-huh. If that was so, then why was Katie so nervous? It wasn’t like she’d never dated before. And whatever happened with Sam would be temporary. Despite how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, and how the way he looked at her made everything inside her warm. Eventually, she was going back to Atlanta, and pursuing anything with Sam would be a mistake.

  “Is this how I do it?” Libby asked, drawing Katie’s attention back to the present, to her job. As the nanny, not the girlfriend.

  “Almost,” Katie said. She took the needle from Libby’s hand and slid it near the edge of the bear’s torn head. Katie had bought a sewing kit last night, and given the small basket of needles and thread to Libby, then taught her how to use it. Katie had done half the reattachment, and then showed Libby how to sew the two pieces together. “You want little stitches, so it won’t show.”

  “Like this?” Libby slid the needle into the faux fur, then wriggled it out the other side.

  “Exactly like that. Great job, Libby.”

  The little girl beamed. She was snuggled up against Katie on the couch, while Henry sat at their feet, building something out of blocks. While Katie was feeling like a fraud. These kids and Sam all looked at her like she was some kind of maternal wonder. All she could hear in her head was the doctor’s voice telling her she had lost her baby.

  The doctor had added all the normal platitudes—these things happen, nothing you could do—but deep down inside, Katie was sure if she had slept more or eaten better or worked less, none of it would have happened.

  She was already growing attached to these kids, to this town, and that was a dangerous thing. She needed to get back to Atlanta, back to accounting, where all the credits and debits added up in neat little rows. Then maybe she could rid herself of this aching need for something she couldn’t have.

  “I’m glad we’re fixing George, ’cuz he’s my favorite bear,” Libby said.

  Katie cleared her throat and forced herself back to the present. “Why is he your favorite?”

  “My mommy bought him when I was just a baby. She said it was my first toy.” Libby stroked the bear’s head. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I let Henry play with it sometimes, but it’s my bear.”

  “George is a great bear. And it’s really nice of you to let your brother play with it, too.”

  Libby slid another stitch in, a second, a third, before she spoke again. “Do you think my mommy is mad at me for breaking George?”

  These were the moments when Katie wished she could call in a relief nanny, one who would know what to say to these heartbroken kids. “Oh, sweetie, no. Moms know that kids argue sometimes. She’s not mad at all. And I bet she’s really proud to see you fixing George. You’re doing a great job.” The stitches were even and tight. Libby had gotten the hang of sewing pretty quickly.

  The praise seemed to warm Libby even more. She worked hard on the bear, her lips pursed in concentration, while Katie gave her little pointers. Katie glanced at the two kids, and for a second wondered if this was what it would have been like if she had gotten married and had kids of her own.

  Would she have been the kind of mother who made pancakes and bought teddy bears and tied hair bows? Or would she have been distracted and busy and absent? Would she have had the best of intentions to be an involved, hands-on mom, or would she have let work take over her days?

  Would her baby have had her brown hair and eyes, or ended up with Leonard’s black hair?

  Katie’s hand strayed to her abdomen, to the empty cavern there that almost seemed to ache sometimes. She’d never have the chance to know those answers, never see the baby that almost was.

  Her throat closed and her eyes burned. Everything would have been different if only...

  “Is George all fixed now?”

  Libby’s voice drew Katie back again. She looked down at the reattached teddy bear head, now mostly back in place, lolling just a bit to the left. Katie choked back the lump in her throat. “He looks perfect, Libby. That’s awesome. I’m so proud of what a good job you did.”

  “Thank you, Miss Katie.” Libby beamed and leaned into Katie’s side, nestling her tiny body under Katie’s arm. “Thank you for helping me.”

  Katie hesitated a second, then wrapped her arm around Libby and drew her close. The sweet scent of strawberry shampoo wafted into the space. Libby didn’t say anything, just clutched Katie’s side, pressing the bear against her belly, and burrowed closer. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

  When she was a little girl, Katie had climbed into her mother’s chair more than once and leaned into Vanessa’s shoulder, seeking a hug the same as Libby was doing. Only in the cramped, musty apartments where she’d grown up, hugs had been as rare as hundred dollar bills. You’re too old for that, her mother would say, pushing Katie down. I’m tired and I can’t deal with you kids.

  Katie might never know what kind of mother she would be with her own children, but right now, in this moment, she could be the mother she’d always wanted with these two motherless children. She could fill in those gaps as best she could, and never, ever make them feel unwanted or bothersome or unloved.

  She could fix a bear and teach a girl to sew and make finger paintings and return hugs. And maybe, just maybe, doing so would begin to ease the ache in Katie’s heart, too.

  She drew Libby in a little closer, then pressed a gentle kiss to the girl’s forehead. “You’re welcome, Libby. You’re very, very welcome.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Katie put Henry in the stroller, then took Libby’s hand and set out for the fire station. Katie still had a bit of trepidation
about her date with Sam afterward, and had spent way too much time fixing her hair and redoing her makeup before they’d left.

  Libby carried George the entire way, holding the bear against her hip like it was a football made of gold. Henry was making small talk with an action figure he’d brought along, happy as a clam in the sun. He was a pretty happy kid overall, and talking more and more each time Katie saw him.

  “Fire trucks,” Henry said, reaching forward. “I see fire trucks!”

  “You have to be good,” Katie said. “And listen to the firemen. They’re going to let you see all the trucks, and climb inside them, but only if you listen.”

  Libby scoffed. “He’s three. He doesn’t listen to anyone.” Then she let out a long, dramatic sigh. The earlier moment of tenderness after the teddy bear got fixed had disappeared, and Libby was back to perfecting her annoyed eight-year-old face. “Why do we have to go see stupid fire trucks, anyway? I don’t want to see any stupid trucks.”

  “Because Henry loves fire trucks and firemen, and my brother is going to show him the inside of the station. Besides, your dad is meeting us here.”

  Libby cast her gaze to the ground. “He always says that. Then he works and doesn’t come.”

  “He’ll be here,” Katie said. “I’m sure of it.”

  Actually, she wasn’t sure of any such thing. She hardly knew Sam. He could be the kind of guy who broke promises or showed up late, or never showed up at all. But he had seemed pretty adamant earlier today that he would be there, and after everything he’d said about not being involved when his kids were younger, surely he wouldn’t miss this opportunity. Nor, she was sure, would he miss their date.

  Katie’s heart sang at the thought of seeing Sam again, and her steps seemed to lighten. She had run through her meager, hastily packed wardrobe in her mind, and realized the only dressy thing she had was a simple black dress and a pair of red pumps. Hopefully, Sam would like them. Ever since he’d stopped by this afternoon, she’d been nervously and excitedly anticipating their date.

  Her gaze scanned the sidewalk, but she didn’t see Sam anywhere. They reached the fire station, and Colton came out to greet them, dressed in dark blue pants and a dark blue T-shirt with the Stone Gap Fire Department logo above his heart. “I heard someone really likes fire trucks.”

  Henry raised his arms. “Me! Me!”

  “Well, come on in, kids. I’ve got a lot of cool things to show you.”

  Katie bent down to unbuckle Henry, handing him the plastic container of cookies at the same time. “Go give those to Colton, okay?”

  Henry toddled over to Colton and thrust the container up at him. “Here. I didn’t eat any.”

  Colton laughed and took the cookies. “Maybe I’ll share one later.”

  That made Henry smile, and he happily followed alongside Colton as the four of them went into the fire station. Libby brought up the rear, her gaze straying to the sidewalk again and again. Her face was sour, her eyes watery and her disappointment clear.

  “Who wants to climb into the big engine?” Colton opened the door and helped Henry up and inside the cab. The little boy could hardly see above the dashboard, but he happily slipped into place and spun the steering wheel from side to side. Colton showed him how to honk the horn and play with the lights.

  Libby hung back, her bear now in the stroller seat, while she stood listless and sad by the door. “I told you he wouldn’t come,” she said.

  “He can still make it. We’ll be here for a little while.” Katie dug her phone out of her pocket and checked the text messages. Nothing from Sam. She debated contacting him, then thought maybe he’d forgotten what time they were meeting.

  At the fire station with the kids. Libby is really missing you. Are you on your way?

  She snapped a picture of Henry in the driver’s seat of the fire engine, then sent the message off. She held the phone awhile longer, sure that there would be a quick response back. Nothing.

  “See? I told you he isn’t coming,” Libby said. She gestured toward Katie’s phone. “He probably didn’t call or anything. He does that.”

  “I’m sure something important came up,” Katie said. “Why don’t you go on up in the truck with your brother? I’m sure Henry would love that.”

  Libby rolled her eyes, but did as Katie requested. A few other firefighters had joined Colton, and they took the kids over to the next engine parked in the bay.

  Colton slipped into place beside Katie. “Thanks for the cookies.”

  “Thanks for doing this. I’m sure Henry’s going to be over the moon for days now that he got to see inside a real fire truck.”

  “You know, that’s how I ended up as a fireman myself. Uncle Tank took me to the fire station one day and I was hooked after that.”

  Uncle Tank, who both Katie and Colton had always thought was a family friend, had turned out to be Colton’s natural uncle. He was the brother of Bobby Barlow, Colton’s real father, and he had sort of kept tabs on Colton as he was growing up. He’d been an uncle to Katie, too, filling in for the father she’d never had.

  Whoever her father had been. Vanessa had forgotten that detail in the long line of bad boyfriends she’d had. By the time Katie was old enough to ask, her mother couldn’t remember which of her boyfriends had been the one to get her pregnant. Katie sometimes missed having a father, but between Colton and Uncle Tank, it had been enough. Yet at the same time, she had never given up hope that one day her father would come in, like a prince on a white horse, and whisk her into his arms and apologize for being gone so long.

  Katie could understand how losing one parent could leave a gaping hole for a child. How it had done that for Libby and Henry. Surely, Libby’s mother would have known the right words to turn Libby’s frown into a smile. Katie had just kept on echoing that Sam would be there, but as the minutes ticked by and the kids went from truck to truck, it became painfully clear he wasn’t going to show up. Disappointment filled Katie as the excuses she’d made in her head became thinner and thinner.

  “Sam’s a good guy,” Colton said, as if he’d read her mind. “A lot overwhelmed, but a good guy.”

  “His kids need him to be here,” she whispered. “That’s all they care about.”

  “He’ll be there when it counts. That’s the kind of man Sam Millwright is. Just give him some breathing room, let him get back on track.”

  Katie glanced up at Libby and Henry in the truck, Henry playing with the controls, Libby grudgingly sitting beside him. Even though it was clear Sam wasn’t going to make it on time, Libby kept glancing at the door from time to time.

  A little girl much like Katie had once been. A little girl who still had hope.

  Chapter Seven

  Sam trudged up the front steps a little after six, exhausted, his mind awhirl with the massive to-do list still waiting on him. He had calls to make, emails to send, a brochure to write up...the list was long and daunting. And it all needed to be done yesterday. He’d run behind all day, then had a last-minute showing that took five times longer than he expected. At least those extra hours—hours he had spent touring a vacant mall space instead of being with his kids—had resulted in an offer, which meant a hefty commission to come soon. That would go a long way toward easing the financial albatross around his neck.

  Except it had meant missing the kids at the fire station, and the date he and Katie were supposed to have afterward. By the time he had a chance to text Katie, they were already walking home. Apparently, he was a star student in Failing at Being a Dad 101.

  Sam sighed. Every time he turned around, he was screwing things up, with the kids, with Katie. Everything had seemed to be going so well between him and Katie, with an attraction that he could no longer deny, and didn’t want to. But if he kept standing her up like this, she was going to be gone before he even had a chance to see
where that attraction might lead.

  At least he was home now. Just as he reached for the door, his phone rang. Work, interfering again. “Hello?”

  “Sam, it’s Hank Osborn.” The owner of the firm had a deep, booming voice, made even more so by him being on speaker. “I want to know how that mall property is coming.”

  “I’ve had several showings. I’ve got one fabulous offer—”

  “I need all five closed by the end of the month. The anchor tenant wants to open up a month earlier, so we need the other properties settled. Signed, sealed, money in the bank. Come on, Sam, you promised you could deliver. Show me that I didn’t make a mistake hiring you.”

  “I’m on it, Mr. Osborn,” Sam said, though he wasn’t sure he could pull off the miracle Hank was asking of him, and on an even tighter deadline than before. With showings booked for the weekend and two nights this week, he was already working extra hours, but somehow he was going to need to work even more. And hopefully convince Katie to watch the kids a lot more than he’d originally hired her on for. He let out a long breath. It was almost one of those be-careful-what-you-wish-for things. He had the job he needed—and he was right back to working too many hours and being home too few.

  He tucked his phone away and went inside. The scents of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread greeted him, followed by the sound of the music. Some pop song, sung by a singer he couldn’t name, but with a catchy beat. He put his briefcase down by the door, then headed into the kitchen.

  Katie had Henry on her hip, one of his hands in hers, sashaying around the kitchen island, while Libby followed along, dancing with her bear. The three of them were singing along with the song as they danced, their faces bright and animated and happy.

  Just like a family should be.

  Sam stood on the periphery, watching his family have fun without him. He should have been here, should have been the one making the spaghetti and dancing with the kids. Should have been at the fire station today. Should have been home earlier. Should have upheld his promise of a date tonight. He’d missed it all—because work had been his priority again. Guilt weighed on him like a too-heavy winter coat.