by Abby Tyler
Ella continued to wail. Louisa bent down to re-insert her pacifier, which was clipped to her little round collar with a pink strap.
The silence was blissful.
“Thanks,” Jack said, resuming his work in the truck.
“You want me to call Fred? The firemen are trained for this. They do workshops twice a year.”
Jack turned to look at her. “How do you know that?”
“I sent them pizzas last year while they were doing it.”
Jack jerked the strap back. “Well, I don’t have time for that.”
Louisa peered over his shoulder. “I don’t think it should be so wobbly.”
“I know that,” Jack said, and she could tell he was gritting his teeth.
A rush of wickedness blew through her. Wow, she hadn’t felt that in a long time. She’d gotten a taste of it when she had considered putting habanero juice on Jack’s pizza, but now it was full on. This was the feeling she’d lived for twenty years ago.
“You want me to read the instructions for you?” she asked, completely unable to keep the giggle out of her voice.
“No.” There was definitely no laughter in his.
“I suppose you could let me do it. Sometimes it takes a woman to get a job done right.”
No response. Another girlish giggle escaped.
She was loving this all too much.
Ella let out another little cry, and Louisa bent to return her pacifier. Out in the sunlight, the full force of Ella’s sweet beauty hit her like a gust of wind. She straightened the baby’s cap.
“You’re perfect, you know that?”
Ella gazed up at her with solemn slate-blue eyes.
Louisa’s heart shifted in her chest. She felt dumbstruck. This baby didn’t deserve to suffer just because she had gotten stuck with a bachelor uncle. She was too lovely, too sweet.
“I’ll do it,” she said quickly.
“Do what?” Jack asked.
“Be the nanny.”
Jack backed out of the truck, whacking his head a second time. “What?”
“I mean it. I’ll help you raise her. Watch her during all your crazy hours. But you have to tell me one thing.”
Now his face shifted to suspicion. “What’s that?”
“You said the baby’s father was out of the picture. Who is he?”
Jack closed his eyes a moment, as if trying to gather his patience. “Jenica doesn’t know.”
Louisa gasped. “How can she not know?”
“There were a lot of men.”
“Oh.”
“Child Protective Services is looking into things, but the caseworker said if Jenica doesn’t help, they’ll never find him.”
“Can’t they do DNA or something?”
“Only if they have someone to test.”
Louisa looked down at sweet Ella. “Who wouldn’t want her?”
“People who have more important things to do. Like drugs. Jenica was in deep this time.”
Louisa’s belly quivered. “Is the baby all right?”
“Well, I’m trying to get her to the doctor to find out!”
He turned back to the base. “Oh, wait. I see.” He clicked something. “That’s it.”
He picked up the baby in her carrier and slid it onto the base. It locked in easily.
“Finally,” he said.
“Do you have everything?” Louisa asked. “Burp cloths? Bottles? Diapers? Wipes?” She didn’t even know what else he might need.
“I think so. I have to shop while I’m in town.”
“Well, I’m coming.”
His face looked as hard as granite. “You in this for the long haul?”
“I am.” And she was. The rest of her future could wait. Ella was way more important. That warmth in her chest spread to her gut, filling her with how right this felt, even if it did involve Jack.
Jack stepped up into the cab. “Well, get in then, I guess.”
And just like that, Louisa became a nanny.
Chapter 7
Jack realized pretty fast that it was a good thing Louisa had gone along.
He wouldn’t have been able to hear a thing the doctor said with Ella’s crying. Louisa kept her more or less soothed, walking back and forth, bouncing her, keeping her pacifier in, and feeding her. But it took a lot of effort, and he wouldn’t have been able to pay a lick of attention.
The doctor had pronounced Ella healthy and agreed with Louisa that a change of formula would be the first tactic to battle the reflux. If it continued, they’d look into it further, but since she was gaining weight and healthy otherwise, it wasn’t a crisis yet.
There’d been a mound of paperwork, way more than he’d anticipated. He’d never have been able to fill it all out without Louisa there to hold the baby. With Ella being placed by Child Protective Services, he had to produce all manner of proof the baby was in his care.
On the plus side, they no longer had to boil nipples or use disposable bottles. The nurse gave him a handy list of everything he should buy for the baby. This would be a serious shopping trip, so they headed to the baby superstore.
While Louisa took Ella for a diaper change, he pushed the cart with the empty carrier along the aisles, feeling clueless even with the list. Why were there so many brands of bottles? And twenty types of pacifiers? Did she really need these teething rings yet? She didn’t have any teeth. Was she about to get some?
The baby food aisle was worse. His list only mentioned formula, but there were a million products with baby pictures on them. Was he supposed to be feeding her these things, too? Was it something they assumed everyone would know?
Jack tried to summon his usual firm resolve, an attitude that carried him through his life with minimal concern, but it wouldn’t come. He had this tiny crying human in his charge now.
And he wasn’t equipped for the job.
Louisa returned with Ella, the packet of wipes in her hand. They should get some sort of baby suitcase to carry things around in. Right now it was all shoved in one of Jack’s police academy duffels.
Louisa peeked in the cart. “More diapers. Good. Did you find a new formula?”
“There are too many kinds.”
Louisa’s eyebrow lifted at his cold tone. “Perhaps we should try several. See what sits well with her tummy.”
And easy as you please, she picked up several canisters and plopped them into the cart.
“But you didn’t do any research. You just grabbed some.”
“The only research that matters is Ella’s gut. All these say, ‘Easy to digest.’ We’ll see if that’s true for her.”
He wished the doctor had given them specific brands. He wanted hard facts, specificity, and orders to be carried out.
“What about all this foodstuff?” he asked.
“Hmmm.” She picked up a box of rice cereal and read the back. “Says to start at four to six months.” She lifted the jars and squeezed pouches, reading each one. “Six months and up. Six months recommended. Looks like we don’t need it yet.”
She spotted a rack of baby books. “We might want one of these.” She picked one up called Babies for Beginners. “I think this is us.”
Jack snatched the book and buried it beneath the diapers and formula. He didn’t want everyone in the store to know they didn’t know what they were doing. He was an officer of the law. Infallible. People looked to him for guidance. He couldn’t be seen with a book like that.
A smile flirted with the edges of Louisa’s mouth, but thankfully she held back whatever she was thinking. She gazed down at Ella in her arms. The baby was in one of her good phases, quiet and alert, taking in the world with her solemn eyes.
“We should get some sort of bag for you to carry things,” he said. He didn’t want Louisa to be lugging around a police bag. It didn’t fit, and might make the Applebottom women gossip that they were becoming a pair.
“I saw some a couple aisles back,” she said. “Come on, Ella, let’s pick out a bag for your thi
ngs.”
In the end, the purchases were monstrous. He got a bassinet so Ella could sleep somewhere other than her car seat or the swing. New bottles, a bottle brush, and a bottle stand for them to dry on. With the women’s contributions, they had more than enough baby clothes now, but Louisa convinced him to buy a cute jacket with little cat ears on the hood.
And a few toys. Louisa had busted out the book again and discovered they needed rings for Ella to learn to grasp, some black-and-red objects to track with her eyes, plus a soft yellow bunny because babies really should have something cute.
The cashier only gave him the slightest glance when she got to the book, but Jack shut down any commentary with an icy glare. She quickly tucked it into a sack.
Louisa fished it out again. “I’m going to read this on the way back. Ella seems to like to sleep on car rides.”
The cashier got animated at that. “Oh, yes. My little Jerome wouldn’t sleep anywhere but in the back of my Accord. When I couldn’t get him to stop crying, I’d pop him right in the car and we’d drive for miles.”
Jack wondered why this woman felt the need to share her experiences. He certainly wouldn’t want anyone to know that his child wouldn’t sleep in his own home. People were odd.
When they were headed back to Applebottom, Jack kept quiet while Louisa absorbed the book. She popped up her head a time or two with a salient fact. “Did you know newborns only see eight to fifteen inches away, just so they can see their mother’s face?” Or, “She won’t get teeth for four months, at least.” Or, “She should sleep about eighteen hours a day.”
He laughed. “Hardly.”
“Oh, I bet she does. It just seems like less because of the crying in between the sleepy bits.”
“I don’t think I’ve slept eighteen hours since she got here.”
Louisa shook her head with a smile. “But you’re getting through.”
With the least likely person in Applebottom. Had he really hired her as the nanny?
“We should talk about the hours and the pay,” he said.
“I’m sure you’ve already researched the proper hourly wage,” she said.
“Yes, but you know I work random shifts.”
“I do. Jeremy was always calling for pizza at two in the morning because he thought it was two in the afternoon.”
“Really? He did that?”
“Okay, once. He did it once. But I get it.”
“They are twelve-hour shifts.”
“Well, it’s not exactly hard labor. I’ll be fine.”
Jack felt his shoulders start to relax for the first time since the baby arrived. He’d gotten it figured out.
“When do you go back to work?” Louisa asked.
“Night shift tomorrow.”
“I guess I should come during the day and figure out where things are.”
“Sounds good.”
She returned to the book, and he was saved.
Chapter 8
When Louisa arrived at Jack’s the next day, a couple of hours ahead of his shift, he looked like she remembered from before the baby arrived.
Clean-shaven. Stalwart. His uniform crisp and sharp.
She, on the other hand, looked like someone’s frumpy grandmother. She wore stretch pants and a long T-shirt, with two extra tops tucked in her bag in case of a spit-up disaster. She was in for a long night, she suspected, and wanted to be prepared.
“How’s that sweet baby girl?” she asked as she pushed past Jack to spy Ella asleep in her swing.
“A little tough. I started a different formula and I think it got worse, not better.”
“Then toss it. We’ll try a different one tonight.”
He gave her a quick nod. “All right. I wasn’t sure how long to give it.”
“Twenty-four hours is plenty.” Louisa knelt next to the swing. “When was her last bottle?”
“About an hour ago. I expect she’ll sleep for a while now.”
“We should try to nudge her toward a sleep schedule, see if we can sync her days and nights with ours.”
“She has to be fed every three hours, though,” he said.
“Yes and no. She’ll wake up hungry, but we’ll keep the lights low at night and teach her that it’s different than during the day.”
Louisa had blown through the entire baby book yesterday.
“But the caseworker said—”
“That was two weeks ago, Jack,” Louisa cut in. “And the doctor said she was fine and healthy. She can tell us when she’s hungry.”
He was ready to jump on her about this, she could tell, but instead, he set his jaw and merely said, “All right.”
“I’ve read up on everything. I’m not saying you were doing anything wrong, but just that a baby’s needs change quickly at this stage.”
“I said all right.” His voice was hard, like the flat end of a hammer. Somehow, this image made her want to laugh, Jack’s police uniform with the head of a hammer on top. Smash.
He led her into the kitchen and opened cabinets to show her where he stored the canisters, and how he’d set up the bottles and rack. Her inner prankster was starting to wake up, and she pictured what might happen if she switched out all the paper wrappers on all the canned goods. Maybe a little Saran Wrap across the toilet seat.
She bit back a smile as he continued the tour in his stony manner, pointing out the diaper boxes stacked by the sofa in the living room.
Nero sat in his usual spot on the bed in the corner, his nose on his paws. He looked up at her with doleful, brown eyes.
“I’ve never had a dog,” Louisa said, “but yours seems a bit under the weather.”
“I’m not sure what’s going on with him. Maybe I should take him to the vet.”
“What’s his name?”
“Nero.”
Louisa got down on her knees. “Hey, Nero.” She petted his long, sleek head. “He’s a Doberman, right?”
“Yes. I adopted him from the shelter a year ago.”
“Is he always such a couch potato?”
“No. He was quite upset the first day Ella arrived. Her crying made him cover his ears or try to bury his head in blankets.”
“I’ll try to give him some attention,” she said. “There’s no telling what he’s thinking about the baby’s arrival.”
“Okay. His food is in the pantry. There’s a scoop for the kibble and he gets a can of wet food every night. He’ll go to the back door when he needs out.”
“Got it.” Louisa started to stand, feeling her knees creak. She’d have to get used to sitting on the floor.
She used the end table to lift herself up. Jack had covered it with a folded blanket topped with one of the waterproof pads they’d picked up on their shopping trip. It made a decent changing station.
“Have you thought about cloth diapers now that I’m here?” Louisa asked.
“I don’t have a washing machine.”
“You don’t?” What in the world? How did he get by?
“I go to the Laundromat,” he said. “It doesn’t seem necessary to have such big machines for the little I have to do.”
“Well, your laundry just quadrupled,” Louisa said. “All the baby clothes, the burp cloths. The blankets.”
“The ladies have been doing that for me,” he said.
“I’m quite certain they are going to stop now that I’m here. They were just getting you through.” She looked around. “I suppose I could get some sort of laundry bag and haul it home and wash it at my house.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t want you having to do that.”
“Well, I think washing the baby’s things would be part of my duties anyway.”
Now Jack also looked around, taking in the neatly stacked pile of blankets and burp cloths that filled one of his bookshelves. “I guess if she’s going to be here for six months, maybe we should set up a room for her.”
“Where is she sleeping now?”
“I put the bassinet in my bedroom,” he sa
id. “I can show you.”
Her brain stuttered on the word bedroom. She was headed to Jack’s private space.
She followed him down the hall. The ladies of Applebottom had obviously been in here, or else it had never gotten messy in the first place. The room was Spartan, but neat and organized.
A full-sized bed with a plain navy-blue comforter sat in one corner. An oak dresser rested on the wall opposite the door, almost devoid of objects on its surface.
How did this man not have any loose bits of things strewn about? It didn’t seem possible.
A single hard-back chair sat by the window, a denim jacket hanging on one knob. It was the only thing not put away. How could he be so perfectly neat and tidy?
On one wall, the bassinet they had bought the day before was assembled and outfitted with white ruffles that seemed completely out of place in the room.
“Well, okay,” Louisa said. “You definitely have lots of room to play with. We could actually put the changing table on top of your dresser if you wanted. It’s empty and the right height. There would be room for the changing pad as well as the diapers and wipes on the end. That’s if you don’t want it in your living room. Most people wouldn’t.”
Jack shrugged. “It doesn’t matter much to me where it is.”
He must not have many visitors. Most people wouldn’t want to plunk the baby down and change them in front of guests, but Jack probably hadn’t come across that circumstance yet.
She was learning a lot about Jack Stone just by walking his house.
“Should I look at the other bedroom and see if we should organize it? I’m going to be here all night sometimes.” She didn’t want to mention that she would have to sleep somewhere. Not that she’d bring that up on her first day. The sofa would work for now, but ideally, she’d have a spot in the same room as the baby.
Probably not his bed, though. Eek.
He pivoted and headed back to the hall. He opened the door on the opposite side.
As soon as Louisa walked in, she knew that this was where Jack Stone really lived. The second bedroom was full of weightlifting equipment. A big contraption of bars and pulleys was in one corner. A rack of barbells sat near the closet. A small shelf held a set of speakers. The only wall décor in the whole house was here, police training posters in big, black frames, plus a picture of his cadet class.