He blinked in surprise. “Really?”
She nodded. Now that her secret was out, she was grinning sort of impishly.
“Michael said you were widowed twice. I didn’t know--”
“Well, actually, I was widowed three times.”
“Oh. Um...that must have been very--”
“And divorced once.”
Now he raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been married four times?”
She nodded again. “I don’t like to mention it til I get to know someone. People can be judgmental, you know.”
He laughed again. “Yes ma’am. Yes, they can. But I think you’ll find we’re a very nonjudgmental bunch of werewolves. So tell me about your third husband. Oh, wait. Where am I dropping you off?”
“Just let me out on M Street. They have such cute shops, and I need to pick up a birthday present for one of my granddaughters.”
He turned off Highway 50. “So. Your third husband?”
“His name was Jake. We lived in Mesa, right outside Phoenix. The Phoenix pack were the nicest werewolves you’d ever want to meet. And Jake.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Lord, that wolf was beautiful. Big, strapping thing with dark brown hair and blue, blue eyes.” She sighed again.
“So, what happened to Jake?”
“That was my one divorce. I didn’t want to leave him—we were so happy, most of the time—but he just couldn’t keep it in his pants!”
She said that last part with such exasperation Cade burst out laughing all over again. In the backseat, Becca began to stir.
“I’m sorry to laugh,” he told her (still laughing). “He cheated on you?”
“Oh, he was such a slut. I forgave him the first few times but eventually, I just-- I mean, I have my pride! He even slept with a couple of women from the pack—married women! And I had to see those bitches every week!”
Now it was Cade’s turn to shake his head. “Sleeping with other wolves’ wives is disgusting. And it’s a real good way to get a wolf killed.”
Mrs. Lawrence grimaced. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what happened, just a couple years after we divorced.”
“Oh. Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t--”
“I’m afraid so.” Her emotions were a noisy riot of regret and longing and a melancholy happiness, the kind you felt with bittersweet memories. “He got real drunk on moonshine one night and made a pass at his Alpha’s wife.”
“Whoa!”
She nodded, features grim. She genuinely missed this asshole.
“Was he fucking suicidal? Excuse the language.”
“No, just stupid. Jake had lots of assets, but brains wasn’t one of them.”
“Good Lord,” Cade muttered.
They were on M Street now. He dropped her off in front of a silver shop with a plan to pick her up in two hours.
The next couple of hours were the best of Cade’s whole month, because he spent them alone with Becca.
His daughter was very articulate for her age, but even though he understood every word she said, he had no idea what the hell she was talking about. It didn’t seem to matter to Becca—she was satisfied with whatever lame answers he came up with.
When she begged for ice cream after lunch, Cade couldn’t say no. Not surprisingly, they were the only ones in the shop, since few people wanted ice cream in the middle of winter.
His cell phone rang as they were tucking into a sundae. Cade frowned when he saw the number.
“Dent?e dropped her off in front of a silver shop with a H What’s up? One of my guys do something stupid?”
Cade was on very good terms with the chief of Fremont’s tiny police force. That wouldn’t keep a dumbass werewolf out of jail—but his guys didn’t generally get up to trouble in the middle of the afternoon.
“Um, no. It’s not your wolves, Cade.”
Dent was silent after that.
“Well? What is it?”
“Cade, it’s your nanny.”
Cade closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Is she okay? What happened to her?” If someone had hurt that sweet, sweet lady...
“Oh, she’s fine. Well, she’s upset. Pretty embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?”
“Cade, she walked out of Argenta with about four hundred dollars worth of jewelry in her purse. And when they stopped her, she tried to run.”
“Goddammit,” Cade whispered.
Pack Alphas don’t cry. Pack Alphas don’t cry.
****
Cade was sitting in the living room nursing a big ass brandy and smoking a sweet cigarillo when Michael Wargman, his best friend and second in command, came home.
Michael looked cheerful and relaxed as he sauntered into the living room. “Hey. What’s up? I—” He stopped short when he saw the cigarillo in Cade’s hand. Then he frowned, instantly tense.
“Good evening, Michael,” Cade smiled.
“Cade…you’re smoking indoors.”
“Yep. I am.”
“Shit. What happened. Wait. Wait.” He looked around. “Where’s Mrs. Lawrence?”
“She’s upstairs, asleep.”
“It’s only eight.”
“She had a rough day. I gave her a Xanax and a glass of wine and told her to get some rest.”
“Where’d you get Xanax?”
“Dee Ann gave me a couple.” Roman’s girlfriend was a very helpful female. It was a pity she didn’t want a career in childcare.
“Okay. Hold on, I think I’ll need a drink for this.”
Michael grabbed a beer from the small cooler behind the bar and then sank into the couch. “Please tell me this isn’t a bad nanny story.”
Cade took a long drag and blew the smoke out while staring at Michael with a “what do you think?” expression.
Michael put his head back. “Shit. What is it? Did she make a pass at you? Is she an alcoholic? A psychopath? A narcoleptic? Does she sell--”
“Kleptomaniac.”
“--Amway? Does--” He stopped as he realized what Cade had said. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Huh.” Michael put one arm behind his head and stared at the sealing as he took a long, thoughtful pull on his beer. “Okay. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“She’s been in therapy for it several times, apparently. Stress, changes, new situations can set it off.” Cade paused to take another drag. “She gave me back my watch.”
Michael closed his eyes. “Is a klepto nanny really that big a deal?” he mumbled. “We just won’t let her go shopping alone, and when she’s here…”
“No. She’s a sweetheart and I like her, but folks in town would get pissed off pretty quick and I don’t need the added hassle.”
“Well, looking for a new nanny a couple times a year is a big fucking hassle.”
“That’s true. But at least this time the disaster happened early, before we spent months getting used to her. And we can get our placement fee back from Denver Nannies.” Another long drag on the cigarillo. “I guess we go to Professional for this one.”
“At this point I’d rather try Craigslist. Are all nannies nuts?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Cade answered after thinking about it for a minute. “I think it’s just us. We’re nanny-jinxed.”
“I’m thinking next time Sarah Jane comes nosing around here, we slap a wig and a dress on Sindri and call him Mrs. Doubtfire.”
Cade smiled tiredly. “If only.” Becca’s maternal grandmother hadn’t bothered them in a while, but Cade wouldn’t take a chance. He couldn’t do anything that would give her a pretext to challenge him for custody.
“You still going to L.A. tomorrow?” Michael asked him. “Or do you want to postpone it till we’ve solved this month’s nanny crisis?”
“No, I can’t postpone it. I missed the last director’s meeting and we’ve got a lot of stuff to talk about. I’ll worry about the nanny crisis when I get back.”
“Okay.” Micha
el crushed the beer can and went to get another one. While behind the bar, he held up the brandy bottle. “Want some more?”
“Oh hell yeah,” Cade replied, hoisting his glass. “Hit me.”
****
One week later…
Cade got out of the car and stretched as a couple of wolves trotted up to welcome him home. One tried to grab his suitcase for him. Cade waved him off with a smile of thanks and headed for the house.
He tried not to get excited about meeting the new nanny, but Michael had sounded downright optimistic when he called Cade in L.A. just two days after Mrs. Lawrence had vacated the ranch.
“Cade, we’ve found her. We’ve finally found her. Wolf, I’m telling you, this is the one.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No! I just got off the phone with Mrs. Palmer and she said should could--”
“Who the hell’s Mrs. Palmer?”
“The new nanny.”
“The new-- you mean you already hired someone? Without me meeting her?”
“I told her it’s contingent on your approval. But you’ll approve, Cade, I promise.”
“And what’s so fucking great about this one? What makes this one different? We thought all the others were great, too, and--”
“That’s just it, Cade! We liked all the other ones! They were cute, or hot, or nice, or something great. Mrs. Palmer’s not like that!”
“So I’m going to like this one because--”
“Because she’s not that likeable. Exactly. She has no personality. She’s a little bit grumpy. Sixty-four and Baptist. Doesn’t drink. Quilts and does Suduko and goes to bed at eight o’clock. She’s never been arrested and she doesn’t date and she was pretty offended when I asked her both those questions. And she doesn’t like werewolves.”
He made that sound like it was a good thing.
“Michael,” Cade said after a second’s stunned silence, “I’m missing something here. Why do we want a nanny who doesn’t like werewolves?”
“Because she’s got no ulterior motives for wanting to work here! No, wait, listen to me,” he continued when he heard Cade growling. “It’s not that she hates us or anything. I don’t think she’s known many wolves – she just disapproves in general. We’re hairy, we howl, we get mud in the house and women like to fuck us, you know? It’s nothing personal. But then I introduced her to Becca. Cade, it was like the woman’s a shifter or something. Her whole face and body changed. She smiled, she sat down and put Becca on her lap, and all of a sudden, she was this sweet cuddly grandma lady. And as soon as Becca left the room, it was back to Prune Faced Old Bat.”
Cade was intrigued in spite of himself.
“You checked her references?”
“Golden. She was at her last job for ten years and only left because the youngest child went off to college. Said she’s getting old and tired but she needs to work a few more years, and she likes the idea of being out in the country where it’s quiet and peaceful.”
“You did tell her she’ll be living among werewolves?”
“She says as long as there aren’t a lot of us in the house at the same time she can handle it.”
No female was going to tell him who could come in his house and who--
Michael knew what he was thinking, of course. “Cade, we can deal with that. The guys don’t live in the house, there’s no reason for lots of them to be there at one time.”
“But Sindri--”
“Cade! The cabins have kitchens and we can take food out to them. Listen to me! This is the nanny, Cade. We need this woman.”
After a few more minutes of this, Michael had worn him down, and Cade said yes.
Actually, what he said was, “Oh, the hell with it. Hire the bitch.”
And now Michael was walking out of the house, followed by a tall, wide, grim old lady in a shapeless blue dress and white tennis shoes.
Cade shifted his suitcase to his left hand and put on his most charming smile, but he could already sense that this one wasn’t easily charmed. It didn’t matter. If she wasn’t crazy, and she took good care of Becca, he’d keep the wolves out of the house and make sure all nocturnal noises ceased at one minute past eight every night.
He climbed the stairs with his hand outstretched.
“Hi. I’m Cade MacDougall. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Palmer.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
And that’s it, dear reader. Mrs. Palmer doesn’t get her own story. Why? Because there’s absolutely nothing interesting about her.
She didn’t do anything bad, or scandalous, or memorable or noteworthy. She quilted, she worked her Suduko, she took good care of Becca and she went to bed every night at eight. And Cade thought they’d finally, finally, found the Last Nanny.
Silly wolf.
To find out more, read Yours, Mine and Howls, available Feb. 8, 2011.
Table of Contents
Becca Comes Home
NANNY NO. 1 — CELINE
NANNY NO. 2 — INGRID
NANNY NO. 3 — MRS. POE
NANNY NO. 4 — Mrs. Lawrence
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Werewolves in Love 1.5: The Nanny Years Page 6
