by Rula Sinara
“You don’t have to give up your bed. I’ve done plenty of camping. I can sleep on the floor in the bedroom.”
“Leave that up to me,” he said, as he took the decorative, woven pillows off his bed so that he could move the futon-style mattress. Pippa dropped her backpack and tried to jump in and help support the mattress, but he’d already lifted it, balancing it to his side, and was halfway through the bedroom door. His strength was...unexpected. He didn’t look brawny, but the way his biceps flexed against his shirt clearly indicated he didn’t spend his days behind a desk.
“Okay, then,” she said, twisting the corner of her lips and splaying her hands to Ivy and Fern. “I hope you don’t mind. I promise I don’t snore.”
That earned a grin from Fern, but not from Ivy. Pippa sighed. How could she explain that she wasn’t a threat when it came to their dad? Not only was he not her type—nor she his—she wasn’t trying to infiltrate their family unit. Dax had come to her for the job. He was the one who’d been late and created this situation.
“Whatever,” Ivy said.
“It’ll be fun. Like a slumber party,” Fern said, elbowing her sister.
Dax stepped back into the room.
“It’s all set. I’m pretty sure there are enough towels in that bathroom.”
“Thank you. I think I’ll just retire early, if you all don’t mind. Ivy, Fern, don’t worry about waking me when you’re ready for bed. Just go about your normal routine. I’m a deep sleeper.”
An hour later, when they did slip into the room, Pippa was lying on her mattress engrossed in the last pages of her book. No one said anything, and she didn’t look up. She heard the girls cleaning up and then climbing into their beds.
They turned off the lamp between their beds, but the smaller one near Pippa remained on. She finished the last page and took a deep breath, relishing that sublime feeling that always came over her when she finished a good book. She reached up and switched off her light, then curled on her side, nestling her cheek against the pillow, her lids heavy with the images from the story. Moonlight streaked across the room, giving it a dreamy glow. A clean scent from the pillows enveloped her. It wasn’t soap. It was too warm and heady for soap. It was Dax’s shampoo or maybe his cologne.
“Miss Pippa?”
“Yes, Ivy?” Pippa turned her face up to distance herself from his scent.
“Thanks for not telling Dad the real reason we were taping your book.”
She’d earned a little of Ivy’s trust. Something settled across her chest like dust motes dancing in a moonbeam.
“No worries. Get some sleep.”
With that, she quietly moved the pillow out from under her head and set it as far away as she could reach, then she tucked her arm under her head and hoped the mystery she’d just finished would fill her dreams, so there would be no room for the mystery of Dax.
* * *
PIPPA WAS GETTING a headache. Dax had left for work early, since she’d stayed over and he didn’t have to wait on her arrival. Sleeping over had made the day seem even longer and more trying. She’d lost count by early afternoon as to how many times the twins had tricked her by switching their color-coded accessories. They’d even played the parts, and in retrospect, she should have picked up on the fact that “Fern’s” snarkiness was a bit off.
Right now, trying to remember who was who when they’d completed different homework assignments, including online tests, was making her temples pound. She pressed her fingers against her eyes and squeezed.
She needed to straighten this out before Dax got back. She’d tell him because it had to do with their studies, but she wanted to show him she’d handled things, too. She had a reputation to uphold at the lodge, and the last thing she needed was word getting out that she was incompetent or couldn’t tell kids apart. Granted these two were identical, but still, they were individuals with enough personality differences and expressions that she should have noticed. Maybe if she’d slept better her instincts would be sharper.
Don’t think about their dad so much.
Her conscience needed to shut up. That was so not the reason they were able to mess with her. She wasn’t distracted. She was worried about his opinion of her.
“Miss Pippa?”
“Quiet.” She held up a finger without looking at them. They’d used up her patience. She had them each sitting on opposite sides of the room studying on their e-readers.
“But we’re sorry,” Fern said. “Really sorry. Research shows that identical twins like to exchange roles. It helps them to explore their individuality.”
Seriously? Pippa turned and raised a brow at her.
“It helps them to trick people, is what it does. I’ve seen The Parent Trap.” On DVD, years ago, at her uncle and aunt’s house in Nairobi since there was no TV at Busara.
“That movie wasn’t about individuality. It was about the twins trying to be matchmakers to get their parents back together,” Ivy said. “Trust me. We’re not trying to play matchmaker for you and Dad.”
Pippa’s cheeks burned like molten magma rising to the surface. Any second she’d blow her top.
“I certainly hope not,” she said.
“Don’t bother, Fern. She probably doesn’t care about our emotional development. She barely knows us, so why should she?”
“I do care. But you two don’t seem to appreciate whether I’m nice or not nice. Or whether we follow your father’s schedule like military cadets or throw in some flexibility and weave in some fun. I’m starting to understand why he has you under strict rules.”
The satellite phone she kept nearby rang in that moment, and she grabbed it.
“Hello.” She kept her eyes on the girls.
“It’s Dax. I’m just checking on Ivy and Fern.”
A parent’s sixth sense.
“They are—” She eyed them both and caved. They looked nervous. Vulnerable. She could remember being in their position a time or two at their age. “Everything is under control.”
“That implies something wasn’t,” he said. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I just got their colors mixed up for a bit, but that’s all straightened out now. We’re good.”
“I see.” There was a pause. “You’re sure?”
She took a deep breath.
“I’m totally sure. You deal with work.” I’ll deal with you monsters.
“Okay.”
She disconnected and faced the twins.
“You told on us.”
“Not really. He guessed. I could have said a lot more but didn’t.” Because she was a masochist...or a saint. Or she simply hoped to get through to them.
Ivy and Fern glanced at each other and put their readers down.
“I guess you’re right,” Fern said. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because everyone deserves the chance to make things right.”
“Or she’s probably waiting to tell him in person,” Ivy said.
“Not true. But if he asks directly, I won’t lie.”
“Told you,” Ivy said to her sister.
“That’s what our last nanny said, too. She was always trying to brown-nose him.”
“Yeah. Our mom died when we were little and our other nannies never liked us. They were mean and ugly,” Ivy said.
“She’s not ugly,” Fern whispered over her shoulder.
“Shh.” Ivy scowled at Fern. Something passed between them. A look. An expression. Something Pippa couldn’t quite decipher.
“And they never played with us. Not even board games, or doing fun things like playing hairdresser or painting our toenails,” Fern added, after another look from Ivy.
“Yeah. They were dictators,” Ivy said. “See, I did read my history lesson.”
They looked at her through their lashes. Were they exaggerating to get sympa
thy? The girls glanced at each other. They really did seem sincere. So that’s why they hated nannies. No wonder they had to resort to entertaining themselves—the wrong way. She rubbed her forehead and sat down. How could she lose her patience with them after what they’d been through?
“Girls, I’m sorry about the nannies you’ve had before, and especially that you lost your mother. I know that was painful, and I’m sure you miss her.”
Ivy swallowed before frowning and tried to gather herself. Fern’s nose turned red. Pippa saw both of their eyes fill with tears. They weren’t faking now.
“Not having our mother around is the worst,” Fern said.
“How about we forget serious stuff for the rest of the day and do whatever you want?” In all honesty, Pippa’s head hurt too much to think about their schedule.
“Anything? Really?” Ivy asked.
“Really. As long as it’s not dangerous. Your father would kill me. My headache is bad enough without my worrying about him trying.”
“Can we play girl spa? We could fix your hair and give you a head massage the way they do at the hairdresser’s.”
“They do that?” She’d never had her hair professionally done. Not even in Europe.
“Yep. Nanny Number Five said so,” Fern said, then covered her mouth.
“Number Five? Do I want to know what number I am?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re the only one we’ve had on this continent,” Ivy said, matter-of-factly.
They took her by the hands and led her to their bathroom.
“We should do this before Dad gets home. He’s not a girl, so having him here will spoil the fun,” Fern said.
They pulled up a wooden chair near the sink for her to sit on. Pippa complied. No harm in letting the poor girls enjoy themselves a little. Everyone needed a break now and then. Plus, maybe this would get rid of her headache.
“Just lean your head back and relax.” Ivy lifted Pippa’s curls over the edge of the basin. “Now close your eyes and enjoy the spa treatment.”
“This is so much fun. I’ll paint your nails after we wash your hair,” Fern said.
“I’m in charge of hair washing. Fern, get me that really good conditioner we bought when grandma took us to the mall. The expensive stuff. You know?”
“Uh, oh yes. That stuff is really, really good.”
“You don’t have to use anything expensive on me. Don’t waste it. My hair is impossible no matter what,” Pippa said.
“Your hair is fantastic. Wild. Free. Love it,” Ivy said. “I really want to dye mine pitch-black, but maybe I’ll go auburn like yours and get a perm.”
“Don’t get a perm. You’ll ruin your hair. You both have such beautiful hair.”
She listened as the water ran behind her head and felt like she was melting as Ivy gently sluiced it over her hair. It was so good and soothing. It was a warm day, but they’d opened the patio doors and the breeze coming through hypnotized her.
“Here’s the shampoo and conditioner. Fancy stuff,” Fern said.
She relaxed as the girls giggled and massaged her head. Had they never done this for previous babysitters? Because, man, this was worth all their escapades put together.
“This conditioner is supposed to be left in for fifteen minutes, but we’ll paint each other’s nails while you relax here,” Ivy said.
They massaged something cold and thick into her scalp.
“What’s this stuff made of?” she asked, her lids heavy.
“Oh, a mixture of nutrients and minerals. They soak into the hair and make it healthier. It’s called ‘Nothing-Like-It Curly Hair Remedy.’”
“Well, if it tames my curls, I’m game.”
“It’ll do just that. Trust me. Your hair won’t fly anywhere after this.”
“Okay, now we’re going to do our toes and we’ll come back to rinse your head when it’s done.”
“Just nap,” Fern said. “It’ll help your headache.”
“But you two will stay in the room, right?”
“Of course. We’ll try to keep our voices down, though, because of your headache. Or we’ll just read.”
“Okay. I must admit this feels good.”
It did. Enough that she dozed in and out of consciousness. The pain in her temples was gone. No more throbbing. No more noise...
“Do you know where the twins are?”
That voice was anything but breezy and ethereal. She opened her eyes, and Dax was staring down at her with a bewildered look on his face. She shot up and looked around the room. How long had she dozed off? Awhile, if Dax was home. Oh, God.
“They were just here. Ivy, Fern!”
Dax just stared at her.
She stared back.
“I swear they were here. In this room. They just wanted to do girl stuff and they’d been so...good...I let them convince me to be a guinea pig so they could play spa and—”
“You volunteered to be a guinea pig? For my twins?”
“Well...yes.” Was there something wrong with that?
Dax’s face reddened and he braced his hands on his hips.
“You were supposed to be watching over them and teaching them, not using them to get your hair done.”
“Oh, no.” Pippa suddenly had total recall. She reached up and touched her head. Her hair felt hard. She tried to tug a strand from her scalp, but it didn’t budge. She glanced in the mirror and gasped. Mud. They’d plastered her hair in thick, clay-like mud. The kind the Maasai built huts with. Her head looked like a badly built inkajijik. “This was supposed to be conditioner. They were going to rinse it out.” They’d tricked her again. Evil nannies, huh?
Remember you’re doing this for the money. Think of how far it will go to fund a school, all the books you’ll be able to buy for the village children.
“You have no idea where they are and you’re still worried about your hair?” he hissed.
“No! I’ll find them.”
“With your head like that?”
“I couldn’t care less about my hair. I had a headache and...never mind. I swear they can’t be far. Kids explore the lodge all the time on their own. They’ll be okay. I’ll find them.”
She started to move past him. She’d be the laugh of the lodge, running around with mud on her head, searching for them, but that was the least of her worries. She’d fallen asleep on the job. Her reputation was ruined, not to mention she’d just blown her chance to earn more money for her school. Surely, Dax would fire her over this.
She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. He was eyeing her like some science experiment gone bad, but she wasn’t trying to impress him with her looks. She didn’t care if he found her unattractive. She absolutely didn’t. Men were the last thing she needed in her life right now, and this one came with the equivalent of twenty kids packed into two.
What bothered her was the fact that she’d lost any respect he might have had for her. He’d see her as someone who needed to be taken care of, rather than a grown, responsible woman. Just like Haki had.
Haki had always acted as if she was a danger to herself. Like he had to rescue her from herself. And he’d ended up being her greatest danger. She’d given him her heart, and he’d crushed it in the worst way possible. She hadn’t been enough for him. She wasn’t even enough for Dax as a nanny.
How would anyone take her seriously if word got out about this? The lodge might pull its agreement with her to run the children’s safari. Sleeping while supervising kids was a liability. No income would mean no money for her school.
Giggles emanated from the living room area, and she heard the words mud head and napping nanny.
“They’re here? You knew?” She could feel her cheeks heat up. Her temples were starting to throb again.
“Would I be standing here with you if I didn�
��t?”
Pippa’s jaw ached, and she unclenched her teeth.
“No. You’d be out there searching for them. Like I was about to do.”
“You wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d stayed awake while you were on duty.”
God help her, she didn’t have to put up with this. She needed to leave.
“I’ll get out of your hair.” She closed her eyes again. Had she really just said that? “I mean, I’ll leave immediately.”
Dax sucked his cheeks in and started for the bedroom door. A chuckle escaped him as he left, followed a few seconds later by a loud and firm “now.”
Ivy and Fern shuffled through the doorway. They looked behind them, presumably to Dax in the other room.
“We’re sorry,” Ivy said, pursing her lips. She and Fern exchanged a smile. They knew their dad couldn’t see their faces. “We’ll help you wash it out.”
“I’ll wash my own hair.” How she’d manage that without clogging the drains and having the lodge kick them all out, she had no idea. “I can’t use the bathroom for this. I’m going to have to wash it outside. Please find me a container to carry the water out. I’d get one myself, but I don’t think this look is the guest image Tabara Lodge is after.”
Dax appeared behind them.
“You two go get the pitcher in my bathroom and the bin by the desk.” They obeyed and he tucked his hands in his pockets as he faced Pippa again. “I don’t know what to say. I’ll make them earn the money to pay for a professional who can help you. I mean for your hair...not a therapist. Well, maybe hair therapy. Like the kind at the spa here. Not that—”
“I’m not the one who needs help. Besides, I thought I was fired.”
“Did I say you were fired?”
“No, but I assumed after this that you wouldn’t want to see me here again.”
“I don’t want you sleeping while you’re supposed to be watching them, for your safety and theirs, but you’re not fired.” He scratched his jaw and cocked his head. “Look, I know they can be a handful and they’re masters at pranking. I can’t blame you entirely for what happened.”