The Lumberjack's Nanny: A Forbidden Romance (Rockford Falls Romance)

by Natasha L. Black

  “I can do that,” he said with a sigh. “Sooner if you can.”

  “I’m going to the bank to start paperwork this week. I know it’s a process, and I want to have everything in place by the end of August,” I said, buoyant with excitement.

  “How did you manage that so quickly?” he said.

  “I’m going to adjust the schedule this summer so the college kids get day shift which they prefer, while I take on another job to earn enough to buy this place. Then I’ll do nights and weekends and the management duties as usual. I mean, obviously, if it’s okay with you.”

  “If you can get the new waitresses trained up in the next two weeks, it’s fine with me.”

  “Thank you! I’ve already got them off to a good start, and I’ll make lots of notes for the day shift leader. This is going to work,” I said.

  I got back to work and hustled cheerfully, all the while thinking of how great this was going to be. First of all, I’d have this relaxing, fun summer with Sadie and get paid for it. Then I’d work at the diner, which I loved, and all of it would get me to my goal in time. I’d be a business owner, have my own place with my own rules at last.

  All day I thought about the changes I was going to make and how fantastic this was going to be. After work, I went over to Laura’s to tell her. I gave Brenna a squeeze and sniffed her sweet smelling baby shampoo hair as she scampered off for Brody to read her a story.

  “So what’s the news?” she said, “you sounded pretty manic on the phone.”

  “I got the babysitting job. It’s insanely good pay, enough to get the rest of the diner down payment ready by the end of August.” I squealed. Laura hugged me fiercely.

  “I am so happy for you. You deserve this, babe. And if there’s anything I can do, if you need anything, I’m here for it.”

  “I know you are, thank you. I just—I’m so thrilled. Hugh even was fine with me changing my shifts and making the schedule work.”

  “Because he wants you to have the place. You know how much he hates change. I mean look at what you have to wear.”

  “Hey, I got him to ditch the headbands with the bows on them,” I said. “Slow progress is still progress. But you’re right. I expected him to make more of a fuss about anything being different. He’s told me all along he wants me to get the diner, so I guess that’s why he’s willing to let me do it how I need to.

  “And it’s not like you’re slacking off. You’re going to have that place running like clockwork while you’re gone. He really has no reason to complain.”

  “Thanks for that,” I said. “I’m going to Max’s for dinner tomorrow night to talk over the terms of the job and spend some time with Sadie.”

  “You seem really happy about it.”

  “I am. It’s going to be a big change of pace for me, spending lazy days with a sweet kid, but I think it’s going to be refreshing, and I’ll still be at the diner a lot. I’d never want to give that up, but it’s going to be like a vacation.”

  “Only you would consider taking on a second job to be a vacation, Rach,” Laura said. “Here, come in the kitchen.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I made you a plate. We had meatloaf, and I used Mom’s recipe and it’s good.”

  “Oh my God, that’s so sweet. I love you!” I said, hugging her. I sat down and gobbled up the meatloaf and scalloped potatoes. “Did my baby Brenna like it?”

  “She ate the potatoes. With her hands. Which is okay, I mean she’s still a baby. And she had a roll and some green beans.”

  “That kid loves her greens,” I said.

  “She sure does. She gets it from her dad. Speaking of dads, how are you going to handle the Max thing?”

  “I don’t plan on handling Max at all.”

  “Exactly. Don’t mix business and pleasure,” she said, smirking.

  “You married your boss. After he knocked you up.”

  “What? And I’m your role model here? No. Do as I say not as I do, right?” she laughed. “And if doing Max is fun, go for it. Just don’t let him break your heart.”

  “Did I ever let anyone do that?”

  “No. Because your heart is in your work and with your friends, but, honey, you deserve to have it all, everything you want. Whether that’s a man or a kid or a chain of restaurants or all of the above,” Laura said.

  I took my plate to the sink and hugged her again. “You’re the best.”

  “Congratulations, go-getter,” she said, squeezing me tight.

  10

  Max

  Sadie sprinkled cheese over the salad while I took the roast from the oven to let it rest. Sadie set the table and almost remembered which side the forks went on. I didn’t correct her, just watched her look quizzically at the way she’d put the napkin and spoon and fork all on one side. I went in and added the knives to my place and Rachel’s while Sadie chattered happily.

  “I want Rachel to see my room, and I want to show her my laffydill I made.”

  “Daffodil,” I corrected with a small smile, glancing at the big yellow construction paper flower she’d brought home from school the day before, which hung on the fridge now.

  “You remember why Rachel’s coming right?” I asked.

  “She’s gonna be my sitter ‘cause Miss Denise is going away,” she recited dutifully.

  I wasn’t sure she understood that Denise really wasn’t coming back, but we’d talked about it for a few days. She was working on making a card for her, and we planned to go say goodbye before the lady left town. I owed her a debt of gratitude for the years of nurturing she’d given my daughter, and I fought the germ of resentment I felt about her leaving Sadie. Even though I knew Denise had a life outside her babysitting job and it was unreasonable to think her first and only loyalty was to my daughter, I hated the fact that another woman was leaving Sadie.

  “Rachel is fun. She really likes me. I bet she will make pies. I want pies for breakfast like a pancake pie or a Lucky Charms pie or—”

  “Not everything goes in pie,” I chuckled.

  I answered the doorbell, and Rachel was standing there in tight jeans, a t-shirt and a cardigan sweater. Her curves were mouth-watering, and the fact that she was holding a foil pan in front of her didn’t even distract me from raking my eyes up her body. I halted my gaze when it reached her mouth, full and sensual, glossed with pink. I cleared my throat, so obvious.

  “Glad you could make it,” I said, opening the door wide so she could enter.

  She looked around the cabin and grinned. “This is so cute,” she said, and slipped off her sneakers as she walked in.

  “You can wear your shoes inside,” I said, although I didn’t really mean it. I never let Sadie come in with shoes on, and I didn’t do it myself. She nudged her pink lace-ups side by side next to the door. Next to mine. I looked at them for a second, how different, smaller, bright and cheerful, totally foreign.

  “Rachel!” Sadie squealed. Rachel went down into a squat and held out the pan for my daughter to see.

  “I brought you a cherry cheesecake, Sadie Lady,” she said.

  “I want it now! Want Cheesecake, Want Cheesecake!” she said in robot voice.

  “Supper-First-Supper-First,” Rachel answered her in an imitation of the robot voice. She got to her feet and carried the pan to the refrigerator and slid it inside on a shelf. Closing the door, she surveyed the cluster of messy artwork taped there.

  “Did you make this? You did NOT do this. You’re too little,” she said with mock indignation. “This looks just like the City Hall daffodils for the like two seconds they bloomed this year. Is this the one the teacher made, and you just sneaked off with it?”

  Sadie giggled. “No, that’s mine! I did that. See, I used scissors on it and cut on the line except I missed a line a little bit there and it doesn’t look right.”

  “False. It looks perfect. I’m still not sure that you could—oh, there’s your name on the back. Huh. I guess it is yours.”

  Sadie beam
ed under the teasing and praise. “You can take it home,” Sadie said.

  “Hey,” I put in. “You gave that to me! Make her another one. No one gets to steal my Original Sadie Artwork,” I said.

  “So, Max, you been holding out on me? Where’s the gallery where this kid does her art shows?”

  “We’ve tried to keep it quiet so the other kids don’t feel useless. They can’t even color in the lines,” I joked right back. She giggled.

  “I don’t have a show. I don’t get to have a YouTube or anything. Daddy says. No Snapchat, no TikTok—”

  “Sadie Cakes,” Rachel said, “it’s Daddy’s job to keep you safe. It’s his most important job. So you gotta trust him. He knows that even though it looks fun, it’s not safe for a little girl,” she said. “I didn’t even get a phone till I could buy one myself. But when I did, I took real good care of it, because I had to earn it. You will, too.”

  I glanced at her. She had no idea what kind of money I had. My daughter wasn’t going to have to work a part-time job to pay for her phone or her car or her college. But I didn’t say that. Let her be nice, talk about work ethic a little. It wasn’t like I spoiled Sadie—I’d been careful not to. But the idea that my little girl would have to struggle just galled me. Rachel was talking to her like a person, which she always did, and Sadie ate it up.

  “You’re my new sitter, right?” she said.

  “Your daddy and I are talking about that tonight. We want to make sure everything will work out.”

  “I can’t stay by myself. I can’t even drive,” Sadie said.

  “Dang, Max. You’re so strict. You won’t let her have Snapchat or a YouTube channel, and now she can’t even drive? How is she ever gonna fit in with the other kids at this rate?” she teased.

  I felt a smile on my face, felt my pulse kick up. Rachel teasing me, backing me up, felt good. I was as excited to have her here as Sadie was in a way, and I told myself to be careful. She was easy to talk to. She had a rapport with Sadie. It would be too natural to fall into a trap of letting her fit right in with us. She praised the salad Sadie had helped with and coaxed her into eating a little bit of carrot and one tiny lettuce bite dipped in ranch.

  When I was leaned over cutting up Sadie’s roast beef, I glanced over at Rachel, who quickly looked away. I was a hundred percent sure she had been checking out my ass. Which, if this were a date, would’ve been good news for later. Since it was a job interview, it was awkward. I ignored it and kept all my attention on Sadie, talking to her about how much meat she was going to need to eat in order to get dessert.

  She promptly turned to Rachel and said, in a low voice, “When it’s you and me, you don’t have to do that thing with the counting my bites. We can just eat whatever.”

  I cleared my throat. I saw Rachel’s eyes dancing with suppressed laughter at my sneaky kid.

  “Two things. One, I can hear you,” I told Sadie, “and, two, rules are rules. It’s about keeping you healthy and helping you grow. Not finding ways to sneak out of eating nutritious food and seeing if you can con the new sitter into giving you ice cream.”

  “Pie,” Sadie corrected. Rachel covered her mouth with her napkin and snorted with laughter. I kept my mouth from quirking up at the corner. I couldn’t laugh when she talked back. It would encourage her.

  “Sadie, you know that’s not okay. Can you apologize and be nice, or do you need a few minutes to cool down in your room?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she sighed.

  I could tell it was because she felt embarrassed in front of Rachel because her cheeks went pink, and she turned shy all at once. I felt like I needed to be serious, stricter in front of Rachel. I didn’t want her thinking my daughter was disrespectful or that I wanted her to have a smart mouth. I didn’t, in short, want Rachel to think badly of me. It was uncomfortable to realize that was what motivated me in the moment.

  “So, Rachel, the end date of the job would be the week school begins pending my orders. It’s my busiest season, and I might need you to pick her up after school until sometime in September. It would only be after school until six. Three hours.”

  “Well, at the end of August I’d have to take over operations of the diner full time. I don’t think you want Sadie hanging out there and doing homework in a booth while I work. So you’d probably need to make other arrangements for once school starts. The second week in August is when our college kids go back, and we have to scramble with scheduling to cover everything. That will be a tricky time for me. I’ve started the process on the loan, and I anticipate having the down payment by the third week in August by my calculations,” she said.

  I looked at her, unused to anyone telling me no.

  “Are you saying that after the first week in August you really can’t do this job?”

  “No, I’m saying it’s going to be increasingly difficult at that point to manage both jobs. That isn’t your problem, it’s mine.”

  “No, you can’t take her to the diner. I pay a sitter to give Sadie undivided attention, not to make her sit in a business unattended and bored.”

  “I hadn’t planned to. But thank you for being clear,” she said, her cheeks blazing, her eyes snapping with indignation in a way that made me think she didn’t really want to thank me for telling her that. Despite how professional she was acting, how calm and friendly, her expression told the truth—that she was struggling to rein in a fiery spirit and wanted to tell me off.

  “So you’re saying you can make the timeline work?” I said in what I hoped was a neutral tone.

  “Yes. I’ll manage it. May through July will be clear sailing, and by August I’ll have arrangements in place.”

  Part of me wanted to laugh. She was trying so hard to appear cool and collected, but she was still knifing me with those eyes. It was funny but a little thrilling as well to see that passion sparking off of her. I quickly tamped down on the fizz of interest I felt roll up my spine. This was my child’s new caregiver. Only practical exchange of information contact would be necessary, and that could be done mostly by text. The less I saw of Rachel, the better, evidently, I realized with a grim disappointment. Maybe I’d been looking forward to having her over for dinner, to seeing her, talking to her. That had to stop right this second.

  “Going forward, I’ll make sure you have my cell number so you can text any questions as needed. When I’m logging, I can’t always get to my phone, so calling isn’t usually productive.”

  “Right,” she said. “I expect you’ll tell me what I need to know, leave instructions, that kind of thing.”

  “We have a cleaner who comes twice a week. She does the laundry and regular grocery shopping. Tuesday and Friday mornings, nine to noon.”

  “Great,” she said. “Anyone else? Groundskeeper? Butler? Or just the housekeeper and nanny?” her eyes sparkled. She was teasing me. I cleared my throat.

  “That’s all the household staff,” I said. “My other employees work for the logging business.”

  “Daddy makes furnitures, too,” Sadie said.

  “Furniture,” I corrected, “it means more than one.”

  “Okay,” she shrugged.

  “So you make furnitures?” she said, pointedly putting an s on the end, her grin cheeky. I wanted to smile back, but I didn’t. It would be too easy to smile at her, to flirt with her like this. Too easy to let her in.

  “In my spare time, I started making some dollhouse furniture for Sadie. Then we made a birdhouse together. I did a few tables and a bookcase for friends. Orders started coming in. The epoxy resin pours are my favorite. I just did one for Noah in dark purple with a ribbon of orange.”

  “Clemson fan?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “it turned out nice. It’s a counter height table and I’ve got stuff to make stools to go with it.”

  “Sounds nice,” she said. “So what color did you make your doll furniture?” she asked Sadie.

  “Not purple and orange,” she made a face and we laughed. “I li
ke pink and yellow.”

  “What about blue? It’s my favorite,” Rachel said.

  “Blue is okay,” Sadie said, obviously feeling generous. If I had asked, she would’ve said it was yucky, so she was clearly trying to make a nice impression on Rachel. I took that as a good sign.

  When I cleared the plates, Rachel got up to serve the pie. Sadie scrambled into the kitchen and asked if she could help. This was a key moment for me, and I watched closely to see how Rachel would react. Sadie hated being treated like a baby, and it would hurt her feelings if someone didn’t accept her help. I waited and practically held my breath, hoping Rachel wouldn’t wave her away.

  Rachel turned and grabbed a stool and a spatula. “Here you go, Sadie Lady. It’s high time you learned how to serve cheesecake. The secret is, it doesn’t matter if it comes out messy on the plate as long as it tastes good. So, no pressure, okay?”

  Then she guided Sadie’s spatula a little to help her scoop out some cherry cheesecake and plop it on the plate. Sadie reached for another plate, but Rachel shook her head.

  “You have to remember the most important part. Spray whipped cream. Not the frozen, scoop it out kind. The squirty kind. Max?” she said. “This is a test. Do you have squirty whipped cream or do I have to find another family to work for? Because I can’t work in a Cool Whip house.” Her eyes sparkled at me.

  “Yeah, Daddy! We need squirty!” Sadie said.

  I opened the fridge and produced the red can. Rachel took the can and shook it. “Okay, you passed the test.” She handed the can to Sadie and made sure that she pointed it away from her face. Sadie squeezed a lopsided mountain of whipped cream onto the cheesecake and said, “Ta da!”

  “Okay, that’s your daddy’s piece,” Rachel said, holding the plate out to me. I took it and kept watching, bemused, as they went on chattering happily like I wasn’t there. “Next piece is yours.”

  “I want all the cherry. Can I scoop more cherry on mine?”

  “Sure, let’s get some on the plate first. Show me how big. Whoa! Think you can eat all that?” They laughed and then Rachel let Sadie steal cherry topping from another section of the cheesecake and squirt whipped cream on top. Rachel helped her off the stool and handed her the plate. “Meet you at the table,” she said.