by Barbara Lohr
That afternoon while Bella took a nap, she made up a shopping list. “I don’t know who buys the groceries,” she said, handing Connie the list in the kitchen, “but could we add these to the list?”
Connie glanced over the paper. “Applesauce? Animal crackers? Don’t think I haven’t tried this. The eating issues just plumb tucker me out.”
“Well, let’s try. What about dinner? Does Cameron… I mean, does Mr. Bennett eat with her?”
Connie smoothed her hands over her apron. “Oh, no.”
“Well, tonight, we’ll eat together.” My, she could almost hear her older brothers complaining that she was so bossy. Her hand went up when Connie began to protest. “You said it yourself, Connie. Bella is my responsibility, and I say we eat together. I mean, Bella and her father.” She blushed. The last thing she wanted was to eat dinner with Cameron Bennett, but Bella needed a routine. Dinner at the Kirkpatrick house had been the highlight of their day.
That night, Bella sat across from Harper at the long dining room table. Connie hadn’t said another word since their discussion earlier that day. She’d set the table with placemats and silverware. Connie said Cameron usually came home at six o’clock so Harper mixed a snack of cereal for Bella around four. The little girl gave her a mystified glance as she ate. Harper wondered if her strange diet accounted for Bella’s moods.
“It’s good to talk about all the things that happened to you during the day while you eat dinner,” she told Bella. That had been the rule in the small red brick house in Oak Park. All seven kids had crowded around the table, jostling for room and their parents’ attention as they passed around her mother’s heavy platters.
Tonight, Connie had cooked a turkey breast and mashed sweet potatoes, with green beans on the side. Maybe Harper could convince Bella to eat the creamy potatoes. Her chest puffed with premature pride when she imagined Cameron’s pleased look when his stubborn daughter was finally enticed to eat something besides cereal.
But the sweet potatoes cooled and congealed as time passed. Bella put her head down on her arms on the table. When had Harper ever felt so darned helpless… and sad? It was almost as if the little girl was being punished and she sure didn’t want Bella to think of dinner that way.
Her stubborn Kirkpatrick streak kicked in.
Chapter 4
Seven o’clock and still no Cameron. “Let’s eat,” Harper told Bella. The little girl shrugged a slim shoulder. Connie had left for the day so Harper went out to the kitchen and mixed up more cereal. While she stirred, anger brewed inside.
How could he blow off dinner with his little girl?
The two of them ate in silence. Bella’s shoulders slumped and Harper thought she heard a sniffle. “I’m not mad at you, Bella, okay?”
“Okay.” Yes, she was definitely crying.
Harper wanted to strangle Cameron. Instead she stabbed a piece of turkey, her hand aching from gripping the fork so tight. But she had no appetite. Neither did Bella and Harper called it quits, cleaning up the kitchen and stowing the ample leftovers in the refrigerator. They could be nuked in the microwave if Cameron ever showed up. The classic animated movies had always been her favorite, so Harper popped one about a puppet boy into the DVD player in the TV room.
“Stupid,” Harper heard Bella mutter. A lot of things were stupid to her. Although Harper wanted to stretch out on the sofa, she sat up and left space for Bella. But the little girl curled up on the floor.
Throughout the movie, Harper listened for the sound of the back door. At nine o’clock she put Bella to bed. When she slipped the voile dress over Bella’s head, her stomach twisted at the sight of Bella’s spine marching down her back like a row of pearls.
“Did you like the movie?” Harper asked Bella as she tucked her into bed.
“It was sad.” Bella’s voice quivered.
“Sad?” The word stabbed Harper’s heart.
Bella’s eyes were distant. “All those little boys without their mom.”
“It was just a movie,” she offered, trying to ease the hurt darkening Bella’s eyes. “He finds his dad in the end.”
“I don’t care. It was sad,” Bella insisted as Harper pulled the sheet up under her chin.
Lordy. And here the kid was all alone in this huge bed. “Bella, I’ll be right downstairs until your father gets home. And I’ll always leave my door upstairs open. A night light is on in the hallway, in case you need me.”
“I know.” Bella turned to the side, tucking her hands up under one cheek.
“Night, Bella.”
No answer.
Harper cast one final look behind her before leaving the room. Had she ever seen such a lonely sight? Her disgust brewed as she walked downstairs. Grabbing a magazine from the pile Connie kept in the kitchen, she stationed herself in the library. If it hadn’t been for Bella, Harper would’ve packed her bag, called Adam, and waited on the curb for him to pick her up. She was that upset. Heck with that stupid promise she’d made to herself about finishing projects.
Taking the same chair Cameron had sat in the day of her interview, Harper grabbed what looked like a business magazine and tried to read. Boring. Tossing it aside, she checked the hallway. No sign of Cameron. Time to explore that silver-framed history on the shelves. One of the photos pictured a boyish Cameron in a football jersey with a raven-haired cheerleader clinging to his arm. She was beautiful, with Bella’s delicate features.
In another shot, the same girl held a tiny baby with a shock of dark hair. Although the young mother smiled, she looked tired. Any pictures of an older Bella did not have the mother. Sadness lodged in Harper’s throat.
Pulling out her phone, she curled up in the wing chair and called her sister.
McKenna answered on the second ring. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“I’m moved in.”
“Terrific. You feeling good about this?”
“Not really.” Pulling her feet up under her, Harper told McKenna about her move-in day. Sitting in the huge, quiet library, she felt so alone.
“Wow, you’ve got your work cut out for you,” McKenna said when she’d wrapped it up and was feeling guilty for complaining.
Time to pull herself up by her bootstraps. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That little girl needs you, Harper.”
Her sister was right. Made her furious to think that earlier nannies had left Bella at the mercy of a father who had no time for her. By the time she’d said good-bye to McKenna, Harper felt better. The clock on the mantel chimed, and she jumped. Eleven o’clock and this had been one long day. She needed some sleep. But not before she’d straightened out a few things.
About ten minutes later, she heard the back door open. Taking some deep breaths, so she didn’t go off half-cocked, she listened for Cameron’s footsteps on the marble floor. He was leafing through his pile of mail when she came to the library door.
Cameron’s tie hung loose around his neck, and his shirt looked rumpled, like it had barely survived the day. A suit coat hung over one arm, and his dark blonde hair was in disarray.
This was clearly a man at the end of one busy day.
Didn’t matter. She cleared her throat.
He glanced up from the sheaf of envelopes in his hand. “Harper.” Said almost as if he were reminding himself that she existed. “You still up?”
“I have to talk to you.”
Chucking the mail back onto the table, he heaved a sigh. “Sure. All right.”
Should she rethink this? Harper hated feeling like one more problem. She’d only had this job for one day and she could blow it right here. Maybe that would be for the best.
But then there was Bella. Her sister’s words came back to her. Dammit, he could just deal with it.
Heart quaking, she turned on one heel and marched back into the library, hoping he’d follow. She perched on the arm of a wing chair but when it began to tip, she stood. Cameron strolled in after her, head down and expression unreadable. When he st
ripped the tie from his neck and opened another button on his shirt, the scent of working man rolled over her. Her father had always come home looking and smelling like this.
But she’d never had this physical reaction to her father. Reminding herself that she was furious, Harper knotted her hands behind her back.
“Good God, Harper,” Cameron sighed as he sank into the wing chair, probably still warm from her body. The soft leather settled around him. Seemed weird to be staring down at her employer so she took the chair across from him. “I hope you’re not giving up on Bella. Not yet.”
Yep, that’s what did it.
“Of course not,” she spit out, ashamed that the thought had even crossed her mind. “We waited up for you.” My oh my. Didn’t she sound just like a bitchy wife?
“You waited up for me?” He seemed at a total loss.
“Of course, we did. Bella needs a family dinner.” Impatience gave her words a sharp edge.
Cameron narrowed his eyes. “Goodness sakes alive. One day here and you decided this?” The southern cadence fried her mind.
“Aren’t suggestions allowed?”
His jaw shifted. “Most certainly but this sounds more like an accusation, not a suggestion. Believe I told you my schedule is busy.”
“I understand that but Bella has an eating disorder.”
The words had come out of nowhere and Harper felt as surprised as Cameron looked. The “disorder” part seared the air like a brand and misgivings tumbled in Harper’s chest. Her brothers always said she called a spade a spade. But this was tiny Bella. Lordy, she gagged thinking of the baby cereal she’d watched the girl chuck down that day. “So, doesn’t it make a lot of sense to make mealtime a family time? Most families do that.”
Cameron’s eyes emptied. Was she fanning some distant fire? His eyes skimmed down her crossed legs and she stilled her bobbing foot. By that time, a flush had burned its way up his cheeks. His fingers tapped the arms of the chair. “You may have a point.”
May have?
“Didn’t take you long to get a read on this, did it? My daughter is seeing a child psychologist.” He closed his eyes and pressed long fingers against them. “I can rearrange some things. What time do you want me here?”
How could she ever have found this man attractive? Like dry ice, his cool detachment burned that earlier impression from her mind.
“Six o’clock. Bella goes to bed at eight. It would be nice if she had some time with you.” My, she was getting bossy. Harper could almost hear her brothers heckling her.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “How about two nights a week.”
Was this a poker game? “Three.”
He gave a short nod. “Done.” As if they’d wrapped up a business deal. She hated him.
“Then there’s the matter of her clothes.” Why not? She had his complete attention. Granted, his eyes had turned to stone.
Cameron slumped back in the chair. “Darlin’, I don’t think you could fit one more dress into that closet.”
Darlin’? How condescending. Harper wanted to stamp her foot. Instead she sucked in a tight breath and plowed ahead. “And that’s the point. A little girl needs play clothes. Or doesn’t Bella go out and play?” What a scary thought.
“Bella goes to preschool. You know that don’t you?” He seemed to be searching his mind. Probably hard to recall what he’d told the procession of nannies.
“Connie mentioned school. Tuesdays through Thursdays?”
With a weary sigh, he pushed up from the chair. Obviously this meeting was over. Had she pushed him too far? “I believe that’s the schedule. Car keys are hanging from a kitchen hook. All the cars are equipped with a carseat. Well, except for the Porsche.”
She didn’t intend to drive that car any time soon.
“Fine, I can handle that. I mean, I can take her to school.”
He raised his eyebrows. Yep, she had overstepped her bounds. Her brain fogged. She had to remind herself that she was doing this for Bella. This was the longest first day on a job she’d ever had. She followed him to the door, eyes drilling into that broad back that tapered to such slim hips.
But back to business.
“Do her allergies prevent Bella from going outside?” Harper better get this straight, or she could make a dangerous mistake.
His narrow, aristocratic features tensed. “The truth is, we really don’t know. The allergy tests all came back negative.”
“Then she could play in the park?”
Mild curiosity softened his frown. “Well now, I’m sure Bella would like that. Very kind of you. I don’t think a nanny has ever asked me so many questions,” he added with surprise.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to goof up.”
“Goof up?” She thought she saw a grin but by this time they were in the dimly lit foyer. “I appreciate your concern, Harper. Really I do. I’m sure Bella will too.”
Harper doubted that Bella appreciated anything. She was a spoiled brat, but the deck was stacked against her. Just thinking about that closet crammed with uncomfortable clothes and the cereal bowl full of mush made Harper’s heart ache.
Darkness had settled over the mansion. Only one light glowed out in the kitchen. There was something very cozy about the two of them discussing Bella at the foot of the stairs. Might have been her exhaustion, but Harper’s mind slid sideways into his blond hair and the blue eyes studying her. If he weren’t the Tin Man, she might mistake the feelings rampaging though her body for attraction.
But that was stupid.
And that would be a real mistake.
“As for the clothes, Connie has a family credit card for any purchases.”
Early in the game but Harper knew what Bella needed could not be bought with a credit card.
Cameron set the security system. “There. Done. Are we done as well?”
“Yes sir.”
They were halfway to the staircase when he pivoted. “Sir? Please. Call me Cameron.”
He looked totally puzzled, like she’d just reminded him that he was old.
Well, he was a lot older, right?
“Okay then. Cameron. We’re, ah, done.”
Dragging herself up the Oriental runner behind her new employer, Harper knew they weren’t finished.
Not by a long shot.
Chapter 5
They left for school early on Tuesday since punctuality had never been Harper’s strong point. She didn’t want to get Bella in trouble and actually found Country Day without too much trouble. An impressive collection of Mercedes and BMWs lined up to drop off their precious cargo. As Harper edged the BMW up to the front door, she chuckled. Easy to tell the mothers from the nannies. The mothers were decked out in designer duds, while the nannies looked more like Good Will. And that would be Harper.
“See you later,” she told Bella after she’d helped her out of the car.
“See ya,” Bella shot back, making Harper smile. But her charge seemed to drag her feet. Was Bella shy? A teacher stood in the doorway, welcoming the students. Still, Harper’s heart squeezed when Bella disappeared inside. She just seemed so lost.
School lasted until two o’clock. Connie had given Harper the family credit card that morning and after picking Bella up from school, Harper drove straight to Belk’s at the Oglethorpe Mall. Sure, she’d been in the store plenty of times but the children’s department was a totally new experience. New and fun. Bella seemed unfamiliar with the mall and the store. Eyes wandering, she tripped as they stepped off the escalator.
Harper grabbed her hand. “Watch your step, Pipsqueak.”
“Hey, I’m not a Pipsqueak.” But Bella looked pleased.
Funny how that name had rolled off Harper’s tongue. “Pipsqueak” had been her own nickname when she was growing up. She glanced down at Bella trudging along, hand tucked securely in Harper’s with such faith. At that age Harper had felt so loved. But Bella didn’t have six siblings to cushion growing pains. And she certainly didn’t have Big Mi
ke, as her father was called, and Maureen. Maureen Kirkpatrick spent her days in a frenzy of cooking and cleaning, her laughter and scolding filling the small house.
That certainly wasn’t the case at the mansion on Victory Drive.
“Here we go, Bella. Now you tell me what looks good.”
They started with the first rack of play clothes and worked their way through.
One hour later Harper tossed bulging shopping bags into the back of the SUV. They’d picked out enough outfits to clothe a small village, all in colorful soft cotton. The sparkly pink headband was an add-on.
“I want a scarf like yours,” Bella said when they were ready to leave the department.
Looking at Bella’s wiry hair that never stayed put, Harper fingered the orange and citrus green scarf holding her own hair back. Nothing special but apparently in Bella’s eyes, it was. “Oh, I don’t know if they have long scarves for little girls.”
“How about a headband?” The young salesclerk snatched something pink and sparkly from a display.
“Perfect.” Harper fixed the plastic band on Bella’s head. “Look in the mirror, sweetie.”
The smile stayed on Bella’s face all the way home.
~.~
The large green sticky note on his desk reminded him about dinner Thursday. Come hell or high water, he was getting home on time. When he left the office for his project in the historical section, he slapped the note right on his briefcase. No way was he going to tangle with the new nanny again. Monday night, Harper had ambushed him like a disapproving parent. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. He supposed her nose was still out of joint because they couldn’t begin the Family Hour, as he called it, on Tuesday. But he already had a meeting on the calendar for that evening. No way was he canceling a meeting with Darcy Livingsworth, whose support he desperately needed for a project in the Victorian District.
Promptly at six o’clock he pulled into the garage. When Connie served the tomato bisque at six fifteen, he was snapping a napkin onto his lap. Bella sat in her booster chair to his right.
“Now, don’t you look nice tonight, Bella.” He detected a pleased glow. “What’s that on your head, sweetheart?”