When he’d driven to the address that Emory had given him, he’d been surprised. Abby’s duplex wasn’t exactly in a bad section of town, but before buying property on this street, you’d have to consider whether the investment was a good one. According to Emory, though Abby was proud and never said so, she struggled financially. Apparently, despite being a former investment banker, her husband had died with no life insurance and no savings. So this could be a good thing for everyone. He could offer Abby security, and she could make it possible for him to get to Tulsa.
He rose when she came into the room carrying two china cups and saucers. “These are teacups,” she said. “I know you aren’t supposed to drink coffee from them, and my mother would have a fit. But I like them, and I do what I want.”
He waited for her to settle on the sofa before sitting again. “My Aunt Amelia would have liked you.”
Abby smiled. “Really? I would think the founder of the Beauford Bend charm school—what was it called? I can never remember.”
“A Fortnight of Refinement and Training for Young Ladies.”
“Anyway.” Abby sipped her coffee. “I would think she would have had very definite ideas about teacups.”
“Oh, she did. She had definite ideas about everything. But she always admired people who did what they wanted—if they knew the rules. What she couldn’t abide were people who couldn’t be bothered to learn.”
“Yes.” Abby looked at him and raised an eyebrow. That was a cue to get on with it.
“I suppose you want to know what I’m doing here.”
She nodded. “It had occurred to me to wonder. Not that you’re not most welcome.”
Seemed like she’d had a session or two at charm school herself.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said.
“That almost scares me.” She didn’t look scared.
“It’s about those twins. I need some help with them.”
“That much was evident. So they are yours?”
“You weren’t still there for the revelation?” The order of events was fuzzy, but yes, she would have been gone by then. Might as well get it over with. “Short and sweet. I had a one-night stand. I’m not proud of it. The girls’ mother died last week in an accident. I didn’t know about them until then. Their mother’s family couldn’t keep them. So I have them. I didn’t do right when they were born, but I would have if I had known. And I will do right now. That’s it.”
Abby nodded, and her expression wouldn’t have been any different if he’d told her butter pecan ice cream was his favorite. With that kind of control, she could make a fortune playing poker, but he wasn’t going to point that out. He needed her to go to work for him.
“That certainly was short. Not so sure about sweet.”
“It’s an expression. Anything else you need to know?”
She tilted her head to one side. “I’m puzzled as to why you thought I needed to know even that.”
“Well, in view of what I’m about to ask you …”
“Which is?”
He took a deep breath. “I need a nanny, and I’d like it to be you.”
She nodded and widened her eyes. “And what makes you think I’m qualified?”
“You have a kid. He was clean and quiet. But mostly, because Emory suggested it. She said that you hate being away from your boy while you work. This way, you wouldn’t have to. He could be with you and the girls.”
“I see.” Her facial expression didn’t change, but he could tell she was interested, so he rushed on. “I’ve done a little research. I’ll pay you fifteen hundred dollars a week. That’s twice as much as the national average. You would need to move to Beauford Bend. I don’t know if that would be a plus or a minus for you.”
She looked at the water stain on the ceiling. “Not a minus. This is a lot to take in. Why are willing to pay so much? Especially to someone with no experience and no qualifications?”
“You’re a mother. I’d say that gives you plenty of experience and qualifications. But here’s the thing: For that salary, I’d need you be in charge 24/7—which is not to say you could have no life. I would also provide you with an allowance to hire babysitters so you can have time off.”
“Babysitters? What about you? There would be times when the girls would be with you. You would need private time with them.”
He knew how to handle that. He’d been watching rodeo clowns for years. Evade and distract.
“Sure. Yeah. When I’m not at work.” He was proud of how he made it sound like he flopped down to the bank for eight hours a day to earn his keep—but he rushed on before she could call him on it. “You’d have your own room and bathroom in the guest side of the family wing. Jackson thought we could take the big corner room on the east end and turn it into a nursery for all three of them. You could pick out anything you like. Decorate it how you want.”
She opened her eyes a little wider. “Cribs that convert to toddler beds?”
“Huh?” There were special beds for toddlers? How had the pilgrims survived? Surely they hadn’t had such a thing. “I don’t know what that is.”
“See, these children still need cribs, but before long, they’ll be able to climb out. Then they’ll need toddler beds so they don’t fall on their heads.”
Fall on their heads? Rafe shuddered. He’d heard Chris Rock say once that a father of a daughter had only one job: to keep her off the pole. It had been funny at the time, but that was before he had daughters. Keeping them alive had to be the primary goal, and he’d proven he was no good at keeping people alive. And judging from the reaction of the women this morning, he was probably supposed to keep them out of pageant dresses—something else he’d failed at.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Beds, leashes, cages. Whatever it takes to keep them alive.”
“And I could have one for Phillip, too?” He was pretty sure she was talking about a bed. She didn’t seem the leash or cage type.
“Well, sure …” Why was she so hung up on this bed? “Anything you like.”
“How much rent would I need to pay Jackson and Emory?”
Good. If she’d gotten that far, she was probably going to do it. “Rent? None. Free room and board would be part of the deal. I own one quarter of Beauford Bend and Around the Bend. I’d get a vehicle that would be for your use—an SUV or van with enough room for all the car seats.”
“You certainly have thought this through in a short amount of time.”
Not really. “Jackson helped me. He’s a fast thinker. I’ve got a list.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I forgot this. Medical insurance for you and Phillip.”
And with that, her poker face melted away. She wanted this. He had won. Maybe she could start today. Now. If so, he could get a nap and get on the road. Tulsa and a bull named Stormbringer weren’t getting any closer.
“When would you want me to start?”
“The sooner the better. Today. Now. I’ll send Sammy over here to pack up your things.”
“Wait.” She held up a hand. “I’m supposed to work the lunch shift at Mill Time. I can’t just not show up.”
He got up and knelt in front of her. “You can, Abby.” He took her hand. “You really can. I bet they’ve got a folder two inches thick of people itching to go to work. And I bet there’s somebody off today who can come in. But I need you. I don’t want to insult your former job. It’s good, honest work.” Rafe did something he’d never done before. He tried to copy the sad little smile that Gabe always used when he was trying to get his way. Then he covered his heart with his free hand. “But helping me and my girls is a calling. They’re orphans. And you’re a good mother. I can tell.”
“They aren’t orphans. They have you.”
“And you saw what a great job I did with them on the trip over here.” He squeezed her hand. “Please, Abby. Come. Come today.”
She closed her eyes. “Let me go over to Mill Time and talk to C
aleb. But if he can’t cover the shift, I won’t leave him stranded.”
“I understand. Okay.” He released her hand and stood up. “I’m going back to Beauford Bend. I’ll write you a check to cover your first week’s salary and any incidentals you need for now. And I’ll arrange a credit card for you.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Why can’t you just take care of the incidentals as they come up?”
“Because I’ll be gone. I’ve got to be in Tulsa Tuesday and the next week—”
“Wait!” Abby put her hands up. “You mean to tell me you're leaving?”
Not good. “I have to, Abby. I ride bulls for a living, and the World Finals are coming up. I’ve already qualified, but I have to get back out there.”
“Now? When you just got those babies and you ought to be bonding with them?”
Damn it all to hell and New York City. Bonding was the last thing he intended.
“I’ll be back.” Might as well go with the story he’d told Emory and Jackson. “But for right now, I’ve got commitments.”
“You sure do.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
“You made a commitment to those babies about two years and nine months ago. You can’t just make babies and go off and get yourself killed!”
Whoa. He wouldn’t have expected such fire from this cool, reserved, Boston girl. But hadn’t he heard her husband died in a spelunking accident before Phillip was born? She might have some baggage about that. It was time to get a little tough.
“All due respect, Abby, but this is my livelihood and none of your business. I don’t plan on getting myself killed. Bull riding is the only thing I know how to do. I’ve got kids to support now, and I have to do it.”
She stared at him for a full minute. Neither of them blinked. Finally, she nodded.
“You’re right. None of my business. But surely you can take some time off to be with those precious little girls. This initial time with them is crucial. You won’t be able to get it back.”
“You don’t understand. There is a lot of money to be won at the finals—and leading up to them. And I can win it.” He doubted she would be impressed to learn that he was the reigning World Champion.
“Can you put a price on a relationship with your children? You’re all they’ve got. I know something about that. You need to stay home for now—at least six weeks.”
Six weeks! That would be the end of October. “Can’t do it. That’s six rodeos, including the championship.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Then find yourself another nanny.
“You cannot mean that.” It was clear she needed the money and wanted the job.
“Look, Rafe. I’ll level with you. Emory probably told you I’m having a hard time financially, but she doesn’t know the half of it. I’m on the verge of having to go back to Boston—which is the last thing I want to do. This job would be an answer to my prayers. But my conscience won’t let me enable you to abandon those babies. I know you have to earn a living. I get that—though why you would continue with such a dangerous career now that you’re a parent is beyond me. But you have to stay here and get to know those girls and let them know you. That’s non-negotiable.”
No point trying to argue with a woman with a made up mind.
But he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “And if I don’t stay six weeks?”
“Then I guess I’m going to Boston.”
He believed her, but he could only let himself be pushed so far. “Five weeks. That’s my final offer. I have to be at that championship.”
“Not good enough.”
“It has to be. Otherwise I’ll have to find another nanny, and I don’t want to. I know you. I like you. You’d fit in with the family. But agree to the five weeks, and I’ll be back in time to trick or treat.” He was careful not to say he would trick or treat.
“How long would you be gone?”
“Four days. Possibly five.” He could stretch it to a week.
“And you’d really be back for Halloween?”
“Absolutely.” He didn’t have to say for how long. “But I am not quitting my job. I can’t.”
“I understand. It wouldn’t be my choice, but that’s your business.”
He didn’t like it, but he could live with it. After all, Emory could fall in love with the babies with him here.
“Then I’ll go talk to Caleb,” Abby said. “I would like to give him a good reason for leaving suddenly. Is this a secret?”
“No. Tell who you like. I’m not ashamed.” Jackson had already called his agent and asked her to issue a statement anyway. Everything that concerned Jackson Beauford was big news.
Abby nodded. “I’ll see you at Beauford Bend.”
How the hell was he going to occupy himself for five weeks?
Chapter Five
“I think I’m missing a piece, Rafe.” Jackson held up a long, thin piece of wood. “I think I’m supposed to have two of these. Do you have an extra?”
Rafe looked up from his own pile of kindling and bucket of bolts. Who knew that a crib that converted to a toddler bed would be so complicated? Not that he knew how to put together a regular crib either. Six hours ago, Abby had pointed to what she wanted on a website, and Sammy had gone to Nashville and brought them back. Now, there were pieces scattered all over the floor.
“I told y’all not to mix up the pieces,” Sammy said. “We might should have put them together one at a time instead of each of us working on one.”
“It’ll be faster this way,” Jackson said stubbornly.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Sammy was further along with his bed than Jackson or Rafe, though he wasn’t doing too well, either. At this rate, those kids would have nowhere to sleep by bedtime—or next week.
“Seems like there’s someone we could have hired to do this,” Rafe said.
“We don’t need to hire anybody,” Jackson said. “If a man can make a baby, he ought to be able to put a baby bed together.”
“Ought to,” Sammy said under his breath.
“As soon as we get these beds squared away,” Jackson said, “we’ll move Rafe’s stuff from his suite to his new room.”
What the hell? “New room? I have a new room?”
“Sure.” Jackson didn’t look up from the pieces he was screwing together—pieces that didn’t look like they belonged together. “You’re going to want to move out of your suite to the other wing to be nearer your kids.”
He absolutely did not want that, didn’t need that, wasn’t going to have it.
“No,” Rafe said. “I’m good where I am.”
“The hell you are. What you’re going to do is what you ought to do—which is move closer to those kids.”
“What for? I hired a nanny—the nanny Emory wanted me to hire. She’ll take care of them. I don’t know anything about kids.”
“It’s not about their basic care,” Jackson said. “It’s about being there for them.”
“So I guess you’re the be all, end all authority on kids now that Emory’s pregnant.”
Sammy’s head snapped up. “Emory’s pregnant?”
Jackson groaned. “Thanks a lot, Raphael. We weren’t going to tell for a while.”
“You told me.”
“It was necessary under the circumstances. We didn’t know you were going to tell the world.”
“So I’m the world now?” Sammy said in a hurt voice.
“If you wanted it kept secret, you might have mentioned that,” Rafe said.
Jackson pointed with his screwdriver. “Be that as it may, you need to move—” But he was interrupted.
“Rafe, I’m here!” The voice came from down the hall and was accompanied by running footsteps.
“Is that …?” Rafe began.
“Oh, hell, no!” Jackson said. “Why did you call her?”
And their cousin, Missy Bragg, from Merritt, Alabama burst into the room.
“I didn’t.” As Rafe rose, he felt a smile
pulling at his mouth and noticed Jackson was also trying hard to fight off a grin. Missy was bossy and outspoken, and they adored her.
“You didn’t what?” Missy threw herself into Rafe’s arms. “I came as soon as Emory called. And I brought Lucy to decorate the nursery.”
Exactly what they needed—nursery decorations. Didn’t everybody?
“Emory called you, did she?” Jackson stepped forward for his own hug.
“Of course I did,” Emory entered the room with Lucy Kincaid, whom Rafe had met in passing.
“And a good thing, too,” Missy said. “If I had to wait on information from anyone else in this family, I might not have known about my new nieces until they graduated from high school.”
“You do know, don’t you, that they’re not so much your nieces as your second cousins?” Rafe nodded to Lucy. “Lucy. Appreciate you coming.”
“Lucy,” Jackson said, “Rafe’s going to be moving into a new room. He might want it spiffed up a little to suit him.”
“Oh?” Lucy looked at Rafe. “I’ll be happy to take a look while I’m here. Have you thought about the changes you’d like to make?”
Quicksand. He’d fallen in face first and was sinking fast.
“I don’t need any decorating done. I’m fine right where I am. Ask Abby. She’s moved in somewhere around here. She might need some new curtains or a bedspread or something.”
Lucy looked confused. “Okay. But why don’t we start with the room we know we’re going to decorate. I need to get some measurements, and I’ll get out of the way. I can see there’s a big project going on in here.” Lucy looked at the assorted crib pieces.
“Big mess going on in here, more like it.” Sammy tightened some screws.
“Did y’all read the directions?” Missy asked.
“We don’t need directions,” Jackson said. “It’s intuitive.”
“I can see that,” Emory said.
“I have to see those precious babies,” Missy said. “Where are they, Rafe?”
His head snapped up. “Uh … I don’t know.”
Missy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to one side. “You don’t know?”
“Somewhere …” He looked around.
Redeeming Rafe Page 4
