He blew out a long breath and twiddled with his pen. “Bethany’s twelve, Stuart’s ten, and Molly’s seven.” Sadness clouded his eyes and touched Ruth’s heart. It was clear he missed his wife and was struggling to raise them on his own.
The idea of working for John as nanny to his three children seemed a little odd and awkward, but how could she refuse? She swallowed hard and trusted she was making the right decision. “I’d love to take the position. But I can only commit to the holiday period. Is that acceptable?”
“It’ll do for now. I’m so glad you’ve agreed, Ruth.” He visibly relaxed and smiled at her. The same smile she remembered from when they were twelve. The smile she used to dream about every night. Oh dear. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
“The job starts immediately and as you know, the position is live-in. We live at Seaforth. Can you meet me there this afternoon? Let’s say three p.m.? Will that give you enough time to get things in order?”
Ruth glanced at her watch. It was only ten a.m. “Sure, that’s plenty of time.”
“Great. Mrs. Shields will attend to all the necessaries and I’ll see you this afternoon.” He stood and extended his hand across the table and smiled at her again.
Dear God, help me… She took his hand and shook it, trying desperately not to think of anything other than the three children who awaited her, although deep down she sensed her world was about to change irrevocably.
Chapter 3
Little Ruthie Reynolds. Who would have thought? Strange how the world worked. Leaning back in his chair, Jonathon cast his mind back to his younger days. He barely remembered her from Sunday School, she was so quiet, but he did recall that she was a Godly girl, always eager to please and help when someone was in need.
He looked at her C.V. again. A childcare worker who’d raised her own child. He read between the lines and guessed she’d raised him on her own. He briefly wondered what had happened to her husband but didn’t dwell on it. No doubt he’d find out in due course, although there was no real reason for him to know. The fleeting thought crossed his mind that she might be a widow. He couldn’t imagine her being a divorcee. Somehow, that didn’t sit right with his memory of her.
Regardless, she had experience and strength of character. He was confident he’d made the right choice.
“Mr. Montgomery?” Mrs. Shields poked her head into the office.
“Come on in, Mrs. Shields. Everything in hand with the new nanny?”
“Yes, sir. Paperwork’s done and I gave her instructions of how to find Seaforth. She said she’s meeting you there at three?”
“Yes. I’m taking the afternoon off, but I have a few stops to make on the way.” He began shoving documents into his briefcase. “Should anything come up regarding the Christmas Eve Extravaganza in St. Kilda, push it through to my mobile.”
“Are you sure, sir? Take the afternoon off and spend it with your family. We have everything covered here.”
He gave the woman a warm smile. “I know, but this event is important. I want to make sure nothing slips through the cracks. Not that you’d allow that,” he added quickly.
“Of course, sir.”
He could count on her for all things related to the business, but how could he make her understand that he enjoyed his work? Needed his work? It’s what kept him going. Especially the work in the communities that needed the most help. There, he could lose himself in a way he hadn’t been able to with anything else since Larissa died. He’d lost his faith in everything except work. Even God. How could he explain that to her? One of the reasons his stepfather had hired her was because of her strong faith. She simply wouldn’t understand his current lack.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he said, stuffing the last items in his case.
“Well, it’s a glorious day, so enjoy the drive and your time at home. And don’t hurry back.” She raised a brow and looked at him sternly.
She meant to chastise but he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, you win. But I will be back tomorrow.”
As he snapped his case shut and headed for the door, she stopped him. “And sir, if you don’t mind me saying, you chose the right person for the position. Ruth Taylor is a keeper.”
He paused before he replied, “I believe you’re right, Mrs. Shields.”
The hour-long drive to Seaforth was broken up by two stops along the way. One at the Bayside Development where Jonathon inspected the grounds where the Christmas Eve Extravaganza would be held. A lot of work still had to be done, but he had confidence in his team and knew that the bare earth would be transformed into a lush green oasis in time for the event. The other stop was at the Seaforth Memorial Gardens not far from his estate. Once a week he placed fresh flowers beside Larissa’s memorial plaque and spent a few moments in quiet contemplation. He found the peace and quiet of the gardens a countermeasure for his busy life, but often he came away feeling more morose than when he arrived. Even after four years he felt the loss of his wife keenly and wondered when the ache in his heart would lessen.
He positioned the flowers and stared at the plaque, his thoughts turning to his wife’s last days in the hospital. She’d been so brave right to the very end, an end she didn’t deserve. She’d been so young. Just thirty-two. The mother of three young children. An incurable brain tumour that all the money in the world couldn’t fix. He let out a long exhale. They’d had so many plans and dreams together. Now they had nothing. No. That wasn’t true. There were the children. Pain still squeezed his heart whenever he thought of how much she’d loved them. She’d been a brilliant mother and they were her world. How could he even come close to filling her shoes? He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.
He brushed a tear from his eye and headed back to the car and drove the short distance to his estate in silence.
Just after two o’clock, he turned into the long driveway heading up to the house. He needed to pull his focus from Larissa and place it onto the children and the new nanny who would be arriving within the hour. He needed to push away the melancholy and put on a bright face, even if it was only a façade. His children deserved better, but right now, that was all he could give them. His mother saw through it. She said he was depressed and should see someone. He told her he needed more time. The truth was, he simply didn’t want to let go of his wife.
He brought the car to a halt in front of the house, drawing a steadying breath before stepping out to find his family.
The house was quiet, but that was normal. The children could be shouting at the tops of their voices in their upstairs wing and he wouldn’t hear them from down here.
“Mum? Kids?” He loosened his tie and tossed it onto a hook in the hallway as he passed.
“Jonathon, is that you?” Peggy Montgomery’s shrill voice called from the direction of the kitchen.
He followed his mother’s voice, and reaching the large sun-filled kitchen, smiled at her. She was sitting in the breakfast nook, her face serene, barely showing a line or hint of her sixty-three years. His stepfather Mathew sat next to her. Jonathon wished he could say the same for him, but Mathew’s decline over the last five years had been pronounced. The man had accepted him and his sister Janella as his own when he married their mother many years earlier, and Jonathon loved him dearly. Watching the Parkinson’s slowly take over his fine motor skills had been hard on their small, tightly knit family. Now, Jonathon was humbled as he watched his mother gently feeding him, whispering sweet words of encouragement.
“I didn’t expect you quite so early.”
“I thought I should be here before the new nanny arrives.” Jonathon walked over and gave his mother a peck on the cheek and Mathew’s shoulder a squeeze.
“I sincerely hope you made a good choice.” She lifted a brow and gave him a pointed look. “You know I have no problem minding the children.”
“I believe I did. And yes, I know you don’t, and I appreciate it, but it’s better this way. Speaking of the children, where are they?”
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p; “Cook took them down to the vegetable patch. They were excited to pick some fresh produce for their dinner tonight.”
The back door flew open and Stuart and Molly rushed in, their arms overflowing with vegetables. Bethany trudged along behind them, showing far less enthusiasm than her younger siblings.
“Dad!” Stuart yelled, nearly dropping his load in the rush to greet his father.
Jonathon smiled and gave his son a hug. “Hiya, buddy. Wow, you’re covered in mud.”
“We were in the garden,” Molly said, beaming up at him before her expression sobered. “Did you hear that Rose had to go away?”
“I did,” he replied. “But not to worry. I’ve hired a new nanny and she’ll be here soon.”
“Great,” Bethany muttered under her breath.
“Bethany,” he scolded, narrowing his eyes at his pre-teen daughter.
Pursing her lips, she folded her arms, her face stony.
“It will be all right, dear,” his mother said reassuringly, patting her granddaughter’s arm.
Jonathon shook his head and took a calming breath. It would be so easy to grow angry with her, but he understood to a degree how his daughter felt. In the four years since Larissa died, they’d had as many nannies. His heart went out to her, but still, there was no need for that kind of attitude. “Why don’t you all go upstairs and get cleaned up? The new nanny will be here any time now. I’ll show her around first and then introduce you to her when you’re clean and fresh.”
The two younger children put down their vegetables and rushed out of the room, shouts of excitement trailing behind them, but Bethany held back, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why you’re bothering, Dad. This one will only leave too.”
Her words tore at his heart. Of the three children, she’d suffered the most as Larissa slowly slipped away, but instead of dealing with her grief with tears and talk, she’d erected barriers around her heart and had become cynical and distrusting. He wanted to help her, but how could he when he couldn’t even help himself? “Let’s give her a shot, shall we?”
She shrugged offhandedly before trudging up the stairs.
Chapter 4
The drive from Ruth’s apartment in St. Kilda to Seaforth would have taken just over an hour if she’d taken the motorway, but the scenic route that meandered along the bay took almost twice as long.
It had only taken an hour and a half to pack her belongings and tidy the apartment. Not that it was untidy. With David gone, everything stayed exactly the way she’d left it. She liked it that way, but it made his absence more real and highlighted the fact that she was now truly on her own for the first time in her life.
Passing through seaside towns where colourful bunting and Christmas lights criss-crossed the streets only served to remind her that this would be the first Christmas they would be spending apart, and she felt alone. For almost David’s whole life, it had been only the two of them. She and Wayne Taylor had married young, but after two rough years where they fought more than they loved, he left and she ended up raising David on her own.
Her life had revolved around him, her work, her friends and her church. Now her son had packed his bags and would be spending Christmas in some far-away place, and the job she’d loved no longer existed. Only her church and her friends remained, but as she was about to start a live-in position, she wouldn’t even have them for the next month or so.
Of course, God was with her, but the uncertainty of the future nibbled at her. It seemed she was at a crossroad in her life and everything she’d known until now was changing. The thought filled her with anticipation but also a little fear.
She stopped at a seaside café for a quick coffee and a bite to eat before heading east across the peninsula to Seaforth. It was only twenty kilometres to the other side, but it was a slow drive initially as the car wound its way up the narrow mountain road. Reaching the top, she paused at a lookout and gazed across the bay which was still hazy from the bush fires that had been plaguing the western side for weeks. She swiped at the flies buzzing around her head and took a sip of water from her bottle. It was going to be a long, hot summer.
Fifteen minutes later, she stopped at the bottom of the treelined road leading up to a whitewashed mansion on top of the hill and checked the GPS three times. This couldn’t be the place. Maybe Mrs. Shields had made a mistake and given her the wrong address. But somehow, she doubted that John’s efficient secretary would make a mistake like that. It had to be the place. Goodness.
Easing the clutch out, she drove slowly up the road. After a short drive through a canopy of leafy, green trees that met in the middle of the road, reminding her of an English country lane and making her feel instantly cooler, she emerged into a clearing. On her left, fences surrounded a series of well-kept, whitewashed outbuildings. Stables or horse yards, perhaps? Did the children ride? She’d need to brush up on her riding skills if they did. Not that she had any—there weren’t many opportunities to ride in the city. Her focus shifted to the circular driveway ahead and the stunning mansion, pristine white and rising up in its surroundings like a modern-day palace. Off to the right she glimpsed a formal garden of manicured shrubs and water features, and what looked like an Olympic sized swimming pool and a path leading through another copse of trees towards the bay below.
She had, of course, guessed that John was now wealthy, but this blew her mind. With this view across the bay, the estate had to be worth millions, if not billions.
But where were the Christmas decorations? Not even a wreath adorned the front door. Where she lived, people got into the Christmas spirit early. Houses and flats all along the street were already decorated with Christmas lights and tinsel and a general sense of excitement and expectation filled the neighbourhood. But here, there was no sign of Christmas. Not an iota. How could John be so tied up with his business ventures that he’d neglect celebrating Christmas with his children? Maybe she was assuming too much. Judging him needlessly. Maybe the decorations were inside.
Parking her small sedan behind a large black SUV, she braced her arms on the steering wheel, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Lord, please go with me as I start this new role. Give me wisdom as I meet the children and seek to develop a relationship with them. They must be missing their mother so much, especially at this time of year, and I feel inadequate. Not that I could ever fill that immense gap in their lives. Only You can do that, Lord, but help me to love them and show them compassion and kindness. And Lord, give me the right attitude towards John and let me not grow envious of his good fortune. I know that true joy doesn’t come from material possessions and the trappings of wealth, but rather by Your good grace alone. And please help me to not think of him as anything other than my employer. I pray these things in Your dear Son’s name. Amen. Calm filled her heart as she sensed the presence of God’s Holy Spirit. She wasn’t alone. She could do this.
Grabbing her overnight bag from the front seat, she stepped out into the warm afternoon sunshine and headed confidently to the front door.
Before she could knock, the door opened and John stood before her, the warm smile on his face making her heart flutter. Oh Ruth. Get a grip.
“Hello.” His smile broadened as he reached for her bag. “Did you find the place okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” She managed a smile. “It’s quite an estate.”
“Trust me, it looks way more intimidating than it is.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter the marbled foyer. “The kids are taking showers. They came in covered in mud and I thought it best they clean up before you meet them. First impressions and all.” He gave a small chuckle.
Ruth couldn’t imagine mud and this house going together, but the thought of the children outside playing gave her hope that despite their surroundings, they were normal kids who played and got dirty. And it was clear he was fond of them.
“Can I show you around before they come down?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“And who do
we have here?” An elegant, handsome woman with greying hair and a kind face strolled into the foyer. Dressed casually in denim and a well-ironed button-down blouse with tiny embroidered flowers across the shoulders, she carried an air of authority. Her eyes were the same hazel as John’s.
“Mother, this is Ruth Reyno—Taylor, sorry.” He let out an apologetic laugh. “I still can’t get used to your married name.”
Ruth shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Ruth’s the new nanny,” he continued.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Montgomery,” Ruth said, stepping forward and offering the woman her hand. She just managed to stop herself from curtseying.
“A pleasure, my dear.” The older woman shook Ruth’s hand firmly while looking her up and down. “Jonathon failed to mention how lovely you are. And please call me Peggy.”
Ruth’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you very much. You’re too kind.”
“Not at all. I believe in compliments when they’re due.”
“If you don’t mind, Mum, I was just going to show Ruth around.”
“Yes, of course, don’t let me keep you. Your father is napping and I thought I’d attend to some correspondence while he dozes.” Peggy leaned up and kissed John on the cheek before disappearing into the cavernous house.
“Your parents live here too?” she asked as she walked with John past an enormous, elegantly decorated living room. She couldn’t imagine mud being welcome in this room with its off-white lounge and carpet.
“No, and Mathew is actually my stepfather. They have their own home on the grounds, but they’re close enough to drop in daily, which they usually do since Larissa’s been gone.”
“It must be hard for you.” She gulped. She hadn’t intended to cross the line and speak about personal matters, but she couldn’t help it. Despite his wealth, she felt sorry for him.
He stopped when they reached the kitchen and leaned his hands against the marble counter and stared out the window. Finally, he turned around, folding his arms as he spoke. “The kids have all dealt with the loss in their own ways.” His voice was distant. Detached. “Molly was only three when Larissa died. To her, she’s just a memory in photographs. Stuart’s boisterous and full of life. He loves to tell stories about his mum before she got sick, even though his memory’s shaky. He likes to keep her spirit alive with laughter. And then there’s Bethany.” He paused, and Ruth could hear the pain in his voice.
Billionaires with Heart Boxset: Christian Romance Series Page 37
