by Paty Jager
“No, it isn’t proper. You’re right.” He captured her mouth with his, stealing her breath away and leaving her sprawled across the bed.
He backed away smiling, eyes shining with devilment. Before she could think of anything to say, he disappeared out the door.
Brock closed the door quietly and started down the hall to his room. If she hadn’t remained sane, he would have—
“Daddy.”
Startled, he turned. Maddie stood in her doorway framed by the soft glow of her bed lamp.
“What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked, changing direction and heading toward her.
“I heard a woman crying. It scared me. When I came to get you, I saw you go in Carina’s room.” Her young eyes didn’t accuse, but he felt like a lowlife. His daughter shouldn’t see him go in and come out of the woman’s room, especially after Carina’s words.
“Carina had a nightmare. I went in and woke her up, and talked to her a while so she could go back to sleep.”
“Why is your neck bleeding?”
Brock put a hand on his neck where Carina had scratched him. “I told you, she had a nightmare. She fought me at first thinking I attacked her, I guess.”
“But you’d never hurt her,” Maddie admonished, coming to his defense.
“Carina knows that. She was still asleep. Once she woke up and realized it was me, she calmed down.” He wrapped his arms around his daughter. “Don’t say anything in the morning. I have a feeling she’s going to be embarrassed.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to make Carina feel bad.” The sincerity in her young voice made his heart skip.
“I know you wouldn’t. Go to bed Freckles, I have a big day planned tomorrow, and I’ll need your help.”
She tugged on his sleeve as had become their ritual. He bent down so she could kiss his cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I know you do Freckles, and I love you and Tate.” He kissed her cheek and gave her one last hug before sending her off to bed.
Not only did he have a ranch to run, but he also wished to find out more about their nanny. He’d believed all along she hid from something. After tonight, he knew she was hurting from something. The sorrow and torture in her eyes told him it was more than a divorce.
His groin ached and throbbed, reliving the feel of her in his arms and the feel of her slinky nightie under his hands when he felt her curves. Her vulnerability had frayed the edges of his resistance.
His attraction could only have stemmed from their proximity and her vulnerability. He refused to think he needed her for anything more than helping with his children. From here on out, he would keep his hands to himself and their relationship platonic. It was the only way he could keep his family together—and his heart intact.
Ten
Brock stumbled down the stairs, his head groggy and his mouth feeling like a dust storm had swept through. After going to bed, he’d thought about Carina’s dreams. Trying to rationalize what could bring her such sorrow and vicious defending. The only thing he could think of was rape. Had she been raped? It would account for the dreams and the way she attacked him, but she said something about ‘don’t take her’.
All the scenarios that bounced in his head had given him nightmares of his own, reliving the horrors he’d witnessed in the war.
He needed coffee. Strong coffee.
In the kitchen, he filled the pot with water and switched the coffeemaker on. He dumped double the usual amount of grounds in the filter and stared out the window. A pink glow bloomed over the barn roof, highlighting the surroundings in a fresh glow. The pink slowly turned gold then yellow as the sun rose in the sky. A slight frost dusted the pickup. Winter was coming.
“Good morning.” The soft, raspy, morning voice of Carina ignited the embers from the night before. The ones he’d told himself not to heed.
He slowly turned half hoping she’d still be in the flimsy nightie. Seeing her in jeans and a form hugging T-shirt didn’t squelch the need building in him. Damn! How was he to think of her as his children’s nanny when one look had his body craving to take her?
“Morning.”
Carina smiled bashfully and moved passed him to the coffeepot. She filled a mug and handed it to him. “You look like you need this more than me.”
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically and sat at the table.
“Oh!”
At her exclamation, he glanced over his shoulder. She stood on her tiptoes staring out the kitchen window. Her firm rounded bottom begged to be handled. He slid from the chair, moving behind her.
“Oh, what?” he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders, when he really wanted to cup her bottom.
“That’s the most beautiful sunrise I think I’ve ever seen.” She tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder. The feel of her body and her acceptance of his touch spun all the reasons he quoted himself during the night to stay aloof out of his head. He wanted to spend many mornings just this way, with Carina in his arms watching the sunrise.
“Stick around, you’ll see many more.” The words were out before he could rein them back.
She turned in his arms. “This is only a temporary position. You haven’t the funds to keep me on. And Tate will soon be old enough to go with you every day.” The sadness in her eyes reflected the ache in his heart.
He’d known she wasn’t staying. He wanted that.
Really .
He dropped his arms from their perch on her shoulders and walked into the mudroom to put on his boots and get the day started.
“Where are you going?” she asked, standing in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
“I’ve got cows to check. I’ll be back in an hour and a half for breakfast. Tell Maddie I’ll need her help this morning.”
“Ok.” Carina watched Brock put on his hat and coat and hurry out the door. She stood in the doorway listening to his boots crunch across the frozen grass and the truck start up. They became closer last night, and though her heart swelled at the memory, she knew it couldn’t be. Until she came to grips with the failure of her past, she couldn’t find peace with herself or anyone else.
“Wow! You beat me up this morning!” Maddie skipped into the kitchen.
“Yes, I did. Not bad for a city slicker.” She tweaked the girl’s nose and began pulling out the fry pans.
“Did you make the coffee or Daddy?”
“Your father. He left to check the cows and said he’d be back in an hour and a half.” She turned back around. “How…” Maddie watched her with a strange look on her face. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
“No.” Maddie opened the refrigerator door.
“You were looking at me funny. You sure I didn’t do something to upset you?” Did Maddie see her father come out of her room last night? Dear God, how did she explain that to a pre-teen? She’d think the worst when it had all be so innocent. Her body warmed, remembering the shared kisses. Well, mostly innocent.
“No. I just…Daddy said not to embarrass you, but I can’t figure out what a grownup would have nightmares about.” Maddie poured milk into a glass and put the milk jug back in the refrigerator. Her actions gave Carina time to decide what to say.
“Grownups have fears just like kids. Only ours usually have to do with things on our minds. Sometimes when there are so many they all bunch together and it is like they attack us. They do it in our sleep, when we’re more vulnerable.” She looked at Maddie. “Does that make sense?”
“Kind of. But if it’s just things, why did you attack Daddy?”
Carina’s stomach twisted and her heart raced. Because I thought he was the person taking my baby.
“In my dream I was fighting someone. When your father tried to wake me, I continued to fight.”
Maddie was a perceptive girl. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her secret from both the girl and her father. But she had to. She had to reconcile with herself before she could move on in any relationship. This family w
as only a stepping stone to get to where she wanted to be in this life.
At the thought of leaving them, her chest squeezed. How could she leave this family in three weeks? They had all taken a spot in her heart.
****
Brock bounced down the county road as fast as he could without flying over the bumps and landing in the bar pit. Roscoe sat on the seat next to him staring intently out the window as if they chased something rather than Brock running from the nanny and how she made him feel.
After telling Carina he was checking cattle, he decided to have a talk with Willie T. If he hurried, he’d catch the old man at Dutch Springs restaurant for his daily dose of caffeine.
Sure enough, there was Willie T’s battered, but smooth-running, old pickup sitting in front of the restaurant. Brock parked alongside the rusty vehicle and hurried into the building.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Rayanne’s dad, Charlie, said, slipping from the stool next to Willie T. “You been overpaying that nanny?”
Brock glared at the man and stalked toward him. Willie T put out a hand and looked at Charlie.
“If you are talking about the nice lady who is taking care of Brock’s kids, then I think you have some apologizing to do to both Brock and the lady.” Willie T stood up. “And if this is the kind of talk that is going around about the nice lady—I’ll have to drink my morning coffee elsewhere.” He took Brock by the arm and led him toward the door.
“B-but Willie T, you’ve been drinking coffee here for twenty years,” Charlie called.
“I guess it’s time for a change.”
Brock pushed open the door. He cherished Willie T as much as he had his father and after that show of support for both he and Carina, he valued the man even more.
“Thanks Willie T,” he said as they leaned on the hood of his pickup.
“You don’t have to thank me, I only said the truth. That lady isn’t what everyone around here is thinking and saying.” He nodded his head as though he’d just uttered a decree. “You thought of calling up Maxwell and telling him to lay off the shit he’s been slinging?”
“I doubt if it’ll help.” Brock scowled. “He’s got more money and clout around here than I do.”
“But not as much integrity.” Willie T slapped him on the back.
“Thanks. But right now that isn’t getting the bank or Maxwell off my back. It also isn’t keeping folks from thinking what they’re thinking.”
Willie T rubbed his hand back and forth across the rusty hood of his pickup. “How’s the nanny working out?”
“She had a nightmare last night that left her emotionally and physically drained.”
Willie T stood back, glaring at him. “You aren’t doing what all these people have been saying are you?”
“No! God no! There’s kids in the house. You know me better than that.”
“Good. For a minute there I thought you were sleeping with the woman, although, it would do you both good.” Willie T grinned from ear to ear, showing his tobacco-stained teeth.
“That it would. But I can’t allow my body to overrule my head. It would be the worse thing I could do for either of us to let things go that far.”
“Why?”
“She’s only here for the duration of a month, unless I figure out a way to pay for her services. God knows Maddie’s load has been lightened and Tate loves her.” His lower regions flared as he thought of Carina carrying Tate on her hip. Thoughts like that only got him deeper into an area he didn’t want to go. “And she’s what I need to keep the social services and Maxwell at bay.”
“So figure out a way to keep her. Don’t you have anything you can sell?” Willie rubbed his calloused hands together. The scratchy sound reminded Brock of the old phonograph sitting in the corner of his office.
“Yeah I can think of a couple of antiques I could sell.”
“Then do it.”
Brock smiled. Yeah. Do it. He was pretty sure Carina would have some ideas of how to sell the family heirlooms. There were few of them that meant as much to him as his children and land.
“So why was Carina having dreams?” The old man’s direct question threw Brock back into the mood he’d been in when he pulled up to the restaurant.
“I’m not sure. I think it’s the reason she hired on as a nanny so far from everything and everyone she knows.”
“Think it’s a man?” The question squeezed Brock’s stomach with jealousy. Was she dreaming about her husband leaving? Had that upset her more than she let on? He didn’t think so. She seemed more bitter than broke up over the divorce.
“I don’t think it’s that. She said her marriage broke up over her health.” He looked at Willie T. “What kind of a man would divorce a woman with health issues?”
“Not a decent one. She looks healthy though a bit skinny to me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He looked up at the man who seemed to know a person’s makeup with one meeting. “Do you think it was a mental problem?” If so, his children could be in danger.
“Not, like that. I saw much grief and sorrow in her, but not craziness.” Willie T turned to look across the sagebrush dotted terrain. “I think she needs time and compassion.”
“If she can help me sell the old furniture around the house, she’ll have time. And as long as she treats my kids respectful, she’ll have my compassion.”
“Give her time to get to trust you, and I’m sure you will learn all you want from the woman.” The old man pulled a pouch of tobacco out of his pocket.
“How can you be so certain?”
“I have been around a long time and watched people.” Willie T smiled, slipping a pinch of tobacco into his cheek.
“Do you think you know more than the people who have degrees in Psychology?” Brock studied the man. He always wondered how the old man knew so much about everything and everyone.
Willie T scratched his head and shrugged. “Now, where am I going to go for coffee every morning since I told Charlie I won’t be coming in there?” He jerked his thumb toward the restaurant.
“Don’t you own a coffeemaker? It’d be cheaper.”
“I like conversation with my coffee. There’s no one at my house for conversation. And my kids don’t like me coming over more than once a week.”
“You could visit us once a week. That would only leave you one day to drink your coffee alone,” Brock offered.
“Deal. I’ll follow you home.”
Brock climbed into his pickup and hoped Willie T didn’t start interrogating Carina the minute he set foot in the house.
****
Carina didn’t know how to act around Brock when he came back. They seemed to have bridged one gap, which made more problems than it solved. She wanted him to hold her, but at the same time, she couldn’t allow herself the attachment she already felt. Just thinking of leaving tore her up inside.
“Carina? Carina, Tate’s been crying for a while now.” Maddie looked at her from across the kitchen where she flipped pancakes.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t sleep that well after my…you know.” Carina tossed the dishrag into the sink and hurried upstairs to get Tate dressed and ready for the day. Entering the room, her heart fluttered. The child smiled through big crocodile tears trickling down his rosy cheeks. When he held his arms wide, she picked him up and hugged him tight.
Inhaling his baby scent and holding him close, tears burned in her eyes. When taking the position of a nanny, she never dreamed she’d fall in love with the family. She thought of Brock’s passionate kisses and soft murmurings. She’d lost her heart completely to each member of the family.
“What do I do now?” She kissed Tate’s soft hair and lowered him to the changing table. Chicago and her old life were a vague memory compared to the realness she felt being a part of this family. The only image that remained vivid in her mind was the night she lost her child. She’d played that day over and over in her head and still wasn’t sure what she did to start
labor and bring her child into the world before her small body was ready.
Her hands became numb and her face clammy as she relived the horror of trying to hold the contractions and the doctors rushing to try and save the premature baby. Where had Perry been? She couldn’t remember. Her mother had driven her to the hospital. Did he ever show up other than to look at her with ridicule?
Her hands shook when she changed Tate’s diaper. She didn’t believe any love was strong enough to sustain the devastation of a miscarriage. Perry blamed her. She saw it in his eyes. Lord, she blamed herself. She let the doctors telling her everything was going great lull her into doing things she probably shouldn’t. She’d spent that morning helping her mother in the antique shop.
What was she thinking? She powdered Tate’s chubby buttocks and taped the diaper up. Standing him in the crib, she pulled up his pants. Her heart twisted when he looked at her with glee and trust.
“I would have been a great mother,” she said, emphatically. Why couldn’t this beautiful child be hers?
She slipped Tate’s shirt over his head and tied his shoes. Picking him up, she headed downstairs. Just as she stepped into the kitchen, Brock and Willie T came through the back door.
“Willie T, what a pleasant surprise,” she said, glad to have the older gentleman for a buffer between her and Brock.
“I was wondering if you would indulge an old man with a cup of coffee.” He sniffed the air. “And pancakes.”
“Wille T!” Maddie burst out of the kitchen at the sound of his voice. “You gonna take me on a field trip today?”
“He can’t Freckles, I need your help. Didn’t Carina tell you?” Brock’s gaze lingered on Carina longer than was proper with company and the children present.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell her. We had a discussion about dreams.” Carina ducked into the kitchen, settling Tate in his high chair.
“Maddie, what did—” Brock admonished.
“She was full of decorum bringing up the topic.” Carina jumped in to keep Maddie from getting in trouble. Brock raised an eyebrow, but let it drop. She let her breath out and handed Willie T a mug of coffee. “I hope you like it strong. Brock must have miscounted the scoops this morning,” she said, smiling at the old man. He took the cup and flashed her a wide grin.
