Winning the Nanny's Heart

by Shirley Jump

  “Thanks for sending your sister to the Stone Gap Inn,” Mac said to Colton. The mention of Katie drew Sam’s mind back to the conversation. “Our mother’s really got her heart set on making that place work.”

  “The house looks amazing,” Sam replied. “Savannah did a great job on the restoration, and you all made quick work of getting the carpentry work done.”

  “We did when they listened to me,” Jack said, giving his brothers the leadership look he’d perfected in the military. “Somebody had to be in charge of the clown show.”

  “Hey! As the family prankster, I resent that remark.” Luke grinned to show he was joking, then got to his feet and tossed a couple dollars on the table for his drink. “Anyway, I’d love to stay and eat, guys, but I have to get back to the garage. I promised Peyton I’d get home early tonight. Maddy is at a sleepover and that means...” Luke’s grin widened.

  “That means he’s ditching us in favor of his woman,” Mac said.

  “Duh. She’s cuter than all of you put together.” Luke waved goodbye, then headed out the door.

  Sam’s phone started buzzing, with a request for a showing from a potential client. He paid for his lunch, promised the Barlows he’d catch up another time, then headed out to the mall space. He tried not to care that Katie had texted only once, to let him know she’d picked Libby up at school.

  He shouldn’t let his mind dwell on a woman who was leaving, even if the thought of her doing that caused a fissure in his heart. Maybe if he focused on his job, on making those deals happen for the new mall, it would dull that ache.

  A little part of him whispered that pouring his energy into work was exactly what had gotten him here in the first place. Maybe it was time for a new approach.

  Or maybe he was just dreaming of things that were already too far to reach.

  Chapter Twelve

  The honeymoon period had come to an end.

  Libby stood in the kitchen, her arms crossed over her chest. “You aren’t my mommy. You can’t make me do my homework.”

  Katie sighed. They’d been having this argument for twenty minutes now, ever since Libby got home from school. She’d stormed out of the car, stomped into the house and slammed the door. And had started arguing as soon as Katie mentioned the word school. “My job, Libby, is to help you with your homework.”

  “No, your job is to watch Henry and me. My father said so. Because you’re the nanny.”

  “Well, yes, that’s my job, too. I have two jobs.” She gestured toward the math papers on the kitchen table. “Now, come on, let’s get these worksheets done and then you can go play. Or maybe after your homework is done, we could walk downtown and see the new dance studio that opened up. I heard they have ballet lessons.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Katie sighed again. “Libby, listen. You have to do your homework no matter what. If I help you, then we can do the hard parts together. And then—”

  “No! I said no!” Then she spun on her heel and ran out the door.

  Katie glanced over at Henry, who was standing on the living room carpet, George the bear clutched to his chest, his eyes wide. Katie debated going after Libby and decided maybe it would be best to give the girl a few minutes to cool down. She thought of texting Sam, but she was on a strict no-Sam diet, to try to ease the pain in her chest every time she thought of him.

  So far, that wasn’t working. Being in his house, around his kids, was a constant reminder that soon she would leave all this behind. Probably for good. It would be for the best, she told herself, because she wasn’t cut out for this white-picket-fence life. She may have been a decent nanny for a few days, but everything in Katie said that long-term, she didn’t have the first clue how to be a good parent. She had virtually no parenting role models, and the one chance she’d had at being a mother—

  Was over before it began.

  Outside, Libby sat on the swing, toeing back and forth, her head down, her gaze on the ground. Katie fixed Henry a snack, then turned on his favorite television show and went outside to Libby, leaving the patio door open so she could hear Henry.

  “Go away,” Libby said, when Katie approached.

  Katie sat in the second swing. It creaked under her weight but held. “So, what happened today at school?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something happened. I could tell the second you got in the car. You were madder than a hornet in a jar.”

  Libby didn’t say anything, just kept pushing the swing back and forth, back and forth. In the distance, one of the neighbors started mowing his lawn. There was the sound of another school bus stopping a few houses away.

  Katie kept waiting and Libby kept silent. Katie could understand. When she’d been little, she’d been slow to trust other people. Colton had been her one rock, the only go-to person she trusted. “Do you want me to get your dad?”

  “He’s never gonna come. He’s working.” Libby made a face.

  “He came to the beach that day. He doesn’t always work.”

  Libby shook her head. “He won’t come.”

  Katie debated. Should she call Sam? Or try to handle this on her own? She glanced over at the sullen girl on the swing and decided things weren’t going so well. It wouldn’t hurt to call in reinforcements. She tugged her phone out of her pocket and texted Sam.

  Libby had a bad day at school but won’t talk to me about it. Can you swing by for a minute and maybe cheer her up?

  There was no instant reply, but for all Katie knew, Sam could be driving or on the phone or meeting with a client. The best bet was to keep Libby focused on something else, until Sam could get here. “Libby, if we just get a start on your homework—”

  “No! I don’t want to! I want my mother to help me! Not you!” Libby pushed off from the swing and ran across the yard, then around the side of the house. Just as Katie started after her, Henry let out a wail.

  Katie dashed into the house and found Henry on the floor, holding his foot. A pile of building blocks were scattered beside him. “Hey, did you step on one of those?”

  Henry nodded. Tears streamed down his face. He held out his foot to Katie. She looked it over and saw an angry red mark, but no cuts or bruises. She drew him to her and gave him a little hug. “It looks okay,” she said. “We just have to pick these up, so no one gets hurt, okay?”

  She had stepped on those tiny little buggers more than once and knew the pain Henry was feeling. She reached over and scooped most of the blocks into the bin. Henry picked up a few and proudly dumped them on top of Katie’s pile. “Henry help.”

  “You did indeed. Thank you. Now, let’s go get Libby.” Hopefully, a few minutes alone had calmed Libby down. Katie got to her feet, hoisted Henry onto her hip, then at the last second grabbed the bear, too, and pressed him into Henry’s arms. She headed out the back door and around the side of the house.

  Libby wasn’t there. Katie skirted to the front of the house. “Libby?”

  No response. She passed the flowerpots, then checked the other side of the house and the backyard once more. She’d done a complete tour of the perimeter and hadn’t seen Libby anywhere. Alarm raised the hairs on the back of Katie’s neck. “Libby? Libby!”

  No response. Panic climbed Katie’s throat. She ran inside—maybe Libby had come in while she was helping Henry and she just didn’t hear her. Katie checked every room, every closet, under every bed. She called Libby’s name over and over again—

  Nothing.

  “Where Libby?” Henry asked. His little face was scrunched in worry.

  “She’s fine,” Katie said. “Just playing a game of hide-and-seek.”

  “Henry play, too?”

  “No, not now.” That was the last thing Katie needed—both Sam’s kids missing. Surely Libby couldn’t have gone far.

  Kat
ie made another loop of the yard, then checked inside the garage. It wasn’t until she turned to check inside again that she noticed Libby’s bike was missing from its customary place by the side door.

  Katie’s heart clenched. Oh, God. She had lost Sam’s daughter. She’d handled the entire thing all wrong and now Libby was gone, and Katie didn’t have the first clue where to look.

  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Sam’s number. It rang three times, then went to voice mail. Katie dialed again, reached voice mail again. She left a message, telling Sam to call her back immediately, then followed that with a text that said the same thing.

  “Come on, come on,” she muttered to the silent phone. It didn’t ring, didn’t ping with a message. Nothing. Katie gave Henry a smile that she hoped didn’t betray the panic in her chest. Where was Libby? Nearby? Katie hoped so. When she’d been Libby’s age and run away, she hadn’t gotten far...

  But that was because Colton had come after her. Colton, who knew her almost as well as she knew herself, and had anticipated where his little sister might go. Katie barely knew Libby, and hadn’t a clue where the girl might run to. Guilt knotted in Katie’s chest. If she had handled this better, if she’d paid more attention...

  “Henry, how about we take a little walk?”

  “Libby, too?”

  “We’ll see Libby soon,” Katie said, and as she strapped Henry into his stroller, she prayed that was true.

  * * *

  Sam tried to hide a smile as Ginny Wilkins, soon to be Beauregard, grabbed her fiancé’s hand and let out a squeal. “This is going to be perfect, baby. Can’t you just see it?”

  Bernard shuffled from foot to foot. He was a slight man with a lisp, and glasses that had trouble staying on his nose. Ginny was the opposite—loud and bright in a pink dress that bloomed from her waist, and pink heels that clacked on the tile floor. She dangled a daisy-shaped purse from her forearm, and called everything either “darling” or “perfect” or “divine.”

  “My Bernard is opening his own boutique men’s clothing store and we were so glad to hear his uncle had this mall space available right away,” Ginny said. “My Bernard has such a fashion sense that I’m sure it’s going to be a wild success. Don’t you agree, Mr. Millwright?”

  Sam didn’t quite see how Bernard’s striped, button-down shirt and khaki pants qualified for a fashion sense. He was wearing red-and-green-striped socks, so maybe his fashion started at the bottom and worked its way up gradually. All Sam wanted was a deal inked on the small storefront, hopefully before day’s end. Bernard was Hank’s nephew, after all, and keeping both his boss and his boss’s family members happy would bode well for Sam’s future at the firm. Even if Ginny and Bernard had been walking around the same two-thousand-square-foot space for over an hour now, debating where to put clothing racks. “I think Bernard’s store will be a great addition to the mall,” Sam said.

  “We are just so excited about the future. We’re getting married soon—in a pink wedding that people will be talking about for centuries, I’m sure—and we’re building the cutest little house off of Oak Street, and opening Bernard’s business venture, with his daddy’s money, because, well, honey, it is the South, and the best money is old money...”

  Ginny went on and on as she paced the perimeter of the store again. Bernard followed along like a lonely puppy, agreeing with everything Ginny said. Sam tried hard not to look impatient. His phone buzzed a few times, but every time he went to check it, Ginny asked another question.

  “So,” Sam said, after they made their seventh round of the space, “would you like to make an offer? Demand is high for this area, and there’s bound to be some competition for this location, since it’s right next door to an anchor tenant. I know your uncle is anxious to get all the spaces rented soon so the mall grand opening can bring a lot of business in.”

  Inside his pocket, he felt his phone buzz again. Probably just a reminder for his next appointment in a half hour.

  “I don’t know...” Ginny put a finger to her lips. She glanced at Bernard, then back at Sam. “Can we decorate however we choose?”

  “Of course you can.”

  Sam’s phone buzzed one more time, the sound feeling even more insistent. He glanced at his watch. A little after four. He was supposed to call Hank at four with a status update, but the meeting with Ginny and Bernard had run way over the time he had allotted. Maybe Hank just wanted to know how his nephew had responded to the space. Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  “And what did you say the rent was again?” Ginny asked.

  Sam rattled off the numbers, then answered Ginny’s next three questions about the lease. By the time she took a breath, another five minutes had gone by and Sam’s phone had buzzed twice more. “Just one second, Miss Wilkins. I really need to check this.”

  Ginny sighed. “Bernard and I are on a schedule, Mr. Millwright. We have two more locations we want to look at today. His uncle assured us you would give us your undivided attention.”

  “Just one second. I promise.” As soon as he flipped the phone over, the on-screen messages made his throat close. The room swam before his eyes and the air whooshed out of his lungs.

  He needed to read only three words before he turned on his heel and ran out the door.

  Libby is missing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It took all Katie had not to crumple into a sobbing puddle. She’d lost Sam’s child. The one task he had given her—watch his kids and keep them safe—and she had failed. Henry sat in his stroller, playing with the stuffed bear, unaware that Katie was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  She’d been texting Sam and calling for ten solid minutes that felt like ten hours. She was just about to call the police when her phone buzzed.

  On my way. There in five.

  Sam. He’d know what to do. How to find Libby. Katie texted him the address where she was—a street corner about four blocks from the house—part of an ever-widening circle she’d been walking with Henry, while she looked for Libby.

  She’d figured Libby couldn’t have gone too far. Maybe just to a neighbor’s house? She had tried to think if Libby had mentioned any friends who lived in the neighborhood, or maybe where Charity, her old nanny, lived, but had drawn a blank. So Katie kept walking and calling Libby’s name, her guilt and worry increasing with every passing second.

  Sam’s SUV came to a screeching stop beside them and he jumped out. “Where is she?”

  “I... I don’t know.” The tears Katie had held back for so long began to stream down her cheeks. “We had an argument, and then I went inside and she was outside—”

  “You left her alone?”

  “She was just in the yard. She was upset about school and wouldn’t talk to me,” Katie said, the words jerking out of her between tears. “I tried to get her to do her homework, but she got mad and ran off, and then Henry stepped on a block and he was crying, and when I turned around, she was gone. I checked the yard, the house, but her bike is gone, and I’ve looked all over and I don’t know what to do.”

  “I trusted you with my kids, Katie. How could you do this?”

  There was fury in his eyes, recrimination in his words. He was right. She’d failed him, and now Libby could be anywhere. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think she’d do this. I am so sorry.” Katie felt like she couldn’t say it enough. God, she’d really screwed up.

  Sam gave her a harsh, stony look. He glanced down at Henry, who put out his arms. “Daddy!”

  Sam unbuckled his son and held him tight to his chest for a long second. Over Henry’s head, Sam’s gaze met hers. Pain shimmered in his eyes.

  She tried to put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged off her touch. “All right, buddy, you gotta sit back in your seat and go home with Katie.”

  Henry shoo
k his head. “I wanna stay wif you, Daddy.”

  “You can’t. I have to go get Libby. But when I get home, we’ll get pizza, okay?”

  That was enough to make Henry agree. He climbed back into the stroller and settled George on his lap. His gaze darted between both adults, as if he knew something was wrong, but wasn’t sure what it was.

  “You know where she is?” Katie said quietly, so Henry wouldn’t overhear. “I tried to think like her, to try to figure out where she might go. But I just don’t know Libby well enough yet.”

  “No, you don’t.” His words were curt, short, accusatory.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I—”

  “Wendy knew her best. She wouldn’t have—” he cut off the sentence.

  The unspoken words—Wendy wouldn’t have lost their daughter. Guilt rolled through Katie. This was exactly why she wasn’t fit for this life that Sam wanted. Once Libby was home safe, Katie was going to head back to Atlanta. Let Sam find someone better suited than she was. Someone he could rely on, not a woman who had lost his child.

  The only thing she could do now was help him look for Libby. “Do you want us to split up? I can search this direction and you can search—”

  “You’ve done enough, don’t you think?” He let out a gust. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Please, take Henry home. I’ll go look for Libby. If I don’t find her, I’ll call the Stone Gap Police Department. Just keep an eye on my son. Okay?”

  She nodded, and tried to apologize again, but Sam was already in his car and peeling away from the curb.

  * * *

  Sam had been unnecessarily harsh with Katie. He knew that, but he didn’t have time to smooth those waters right now. He’d lashed out at Katie, not just because he was worried and scared, but because he was mad at himself.

  He hadn’t been here. He’d been working—again—instead of being a part of his family. He’d lost that bond he had with Libby long ago, and now he had no idea where she might have gone. He drove at warp speed through town, past the school, the ice cream parlor, the library. On any other day, Libby would have gone to one of those places. But today, something had upset her, and Sam prayed he knew his daughter well enough to guess where she might have gone.