Small-Town Nanny

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Small-Town Nanny Page 11

by Lee Tobin McClain


  The hard sell had made him feel resistant, but Fiona was a genuinely nice woman. They chatted easily about the small liberal arts college they’d both attended, although in different years, about how Rescue River was a great place to raise a family, about people they knew in common, since Fiona was related to Marie.

  There was something shuttered in her eyes, some distance, some pain. Still, she was pretty, with her long, wavy red hair, tall as a model but with pleasant curves. Obviously smart.

  Sam’s attention strayed, wondering where Susan had gone. He scanned the crowd down by the band’s tent, where the sounds of pop music emerged alongside patriotic favorites. Checked the food area, where the fragrance of barbecue and burned sugar lingered.

  No Susan, though.

  “Look,” Fiona said, “I get the sense that Helen is trying to push us together, but don’t feel obligated to stick around and talk. I’m not in the market for a relationship. I’m just trying to straighten out my life after my husband’s death.”

  He snapped back to focus on her. “I’m sorry for your loss. I faced that and I’m dealing with it, but it’s not easy when you had a great relationship and high hopes for the future.”

  She stared off across the field where people were starting to stake out spots to watch fireworks. Craned her neck, perhaps to see her kids, who were over at the face-painting station with Mindy, under Daisy’s supervision. Then she turned back to him. “Be glad if yours was a clean break, Sam,” she said, her voice surprisingly intense. “Not everyone has that. In a way, it’s harder if the loss was...complicated.”

  He cocked his head to one side, looking at her and wondering about her story.

  One of her children ran to her, a girl of seven or eight, and whispered something in her ear. The two talked in low tones while Sam thought about what she had said.

  Thinking about Marie.

  It had, in fact, been a clean break. He’d never had any reason to doubt her faithfulness or her love. They’d been genuinely happy together. And right up to the end, her faith had been strong, had guided him even, kept him on a positive path.

  It was only after her death that he’d strayed away, mentally, from his faith. Had gotten angry with God about what He’d taken away, not just from Sam himself, but from a little girl who’d sobbed for days as if her heart was breaking—which it surely was—about the loss of her loving mama.

  But Mindy had only positive memories of her mother. She’d been well-cared for, and even though the loss had been terribly, terribly hard on her, she hadn’t ever questioned her mother’s love. She had more moments of joy than pain, these days. Nothing like the skulking, furtive demeanor of the mysterious Fiona’s kids.

  Marie had been everything a mother should be.

  And maybe, just maybe, rather than exclusively feeling bitter about losing her, he should feel grateful to have had a faithful, loving wife.

  Fiona’s daughter ran off, and she turned to meet his bemused eyes.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked, feeling awkward. “Do you need someone to talk to?”

  She waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me. I have a strong faith and an appointment with the pastor here. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” Her face broke into a genuinely beautiful smile. “God’s good even when times are hard.”

  “That’s...true.” And he wasn’t just saying it. Maybe it was time for a change. Maybe he needed to not only get to church each week, but get right with God. “You’ve made me think,” he said to Fiona. “I appreciate that.”

  “Sure, Sam. Nice talking to you.”

  The obvious ending of their conversation turned on a light bulb for him: his “find Mindy a mom” campaign was going to be harder than he thought. Because right here in front of him was a perfect woman. Exactly what he would have wanted, had he filled out an order form.

  And he had zero interest in her, romantically.

  She pushed back her chair, holding out a hand to briskly shake his, and he could tell she felt the same way about him, so there was no guilt. There might even be a friendship, one of these days; they seemed to have some things in common. “Your kids are welcome to swim in my pool anytime,” he said. “Mindy would love the company.”

  “Thanks, that’s nice of you.” She smiled at him, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. Her eyes held pain and secrets, and Sam resolved to get Daisy on the case.

  He walked around for a while, enjoying the companionship of old friends, watching the kids run around in small packs, relishing another piece of pie. But something was missing: he couldn’t find Susan. Mindy was still with Daisy, who hadn’t seen Susan in a while.

  Finally he thought to text Susan, but when he pulled out his phone and looked at it, he saw her message.

  He frowned. She’d gone home? How, when she’d ridden over with him?

  Sam asked around to see whether anyone had noticed her leaving. “I think she walked,” a teenager told him offhandedly.

  Walked home? That was close to three miles, mostly on deserted country roads, and darkness was falling. Not good.

  He shot her a text: Where are you?

  She didn’t answer.

  He turned to find his mother-in-law at his elbow. “How did you like Fiona?” she asked.

  “Can you watch over Mindy tonight and make sure she gets home?”

  “Of course!” A wide smile spread over her face. “You liked her, then? Are you taking her home?”

  Had she lost her mind? Sam shook his head distractedly. “Fiona is lovely, and we have nothing going on romantically. She seems to need a friend, so if you’re wanting to help her out, that’s probably the direction to go. Introduce her to some of the local women, something like that.”

  “But if you’re not going to take Fiona home,” she asked unhappily, “then why are you leaving?”

  “Susan walked home, and I need to check on her.”

  Helen put a hand on her hip, her forehead wrinkling. “Now why would anyone do something like that? That’s just strange.”

  He ignored the judgment. “I’ll see you when you get home with Mindy,” he said, turning toward the parking lot.

  “But you’ll miss the fireworks!” Helen sounded truly distressed. “That woman is a terrible influence on you. She’s not even patriotic!”

  “Later, Helen,” he called over his shoulder.

  After catching Mindy long enough to explain that she was to leave with her grandparents—which appeared to be fine with her, she was having such a good time with all the kids to play with—Sam got in his truck and started driving, thinking about what Helen had said.

  Susan was different. She was independent and outspoken and didn’t always say the proper thing.

  But as for patriotism... Sam thought of her interactions with the older veterans and chuckled. She’d had those guys eating from the palm of her hand. She was every bit a proud American, as evidenced by the words on her obviously well-worn T-shirt.

  He drove slowly along the country road, windows open. A gentle breeze brought the smells of hay and fresh-plowed soil that had always been part of his homeland experience. Crickets chirped, their music rising and falling, accompanied by a throaty chorus of frogs as he passed a small farm pond.

  The sky was darkening, and up ahead, he saw the moon rise in a perfect circle, like a large round coin in the sky.

  Even with the moonlight, it was still too dark. Too dark for a young woman to be out alone, a woman unfamiliar with the roads. Could Susan have gotten lost? Could something bad have happened to her?

  As he arrived at Main Street in downtown Rescue River, concern grew in his heart. Where was she? Had something happened? He’d been studying the dark road the whole way and hadn’t seen her, but could she have fallen into a ditch or been abducted?

  Finally he spotted a petite form just
sinking onto a bench, a couple of buildings down from the Chatterbox Café. Susan.

  She was taking off her sandals and studying one foot, and when he stopped the truck in front of her, she looked up.

  She wasn’t as classically beautiful as Fiona. Her hair was coming out of its neat ponytail, and her shoulders slumped a little.

  He’d never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

  He jumped out of the truck and strode over to her. “What were you thinking, walking home?”

  She squinted up at him. “Umm...I was tired?”

  “You walked two miles on rough country roads. Of course you’re tired.” He sat down beside her and gestured toward the foot she’d been examining. “What happened?”

  “Blister,” she said. “I’ll live.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Wait here a minute.”

  He trotted over to his truck, fumbled in the glove box and returned with the small first-aid kit he always carried. “Let me see that.”

  “Why am I not surprised that you have a first-aid kit?” she asked, but she let him take her foot on his lap.

  The skin had broken and the blister was a large, angry red. He opened an antibiotic wipe and cleansed it carefully, scolding himself internally for enjoying the opportunity to touch her delicate foot.

  “Ow!” She winced when the medicine touched the broken skin.

  “Sorry.” He patted her ankle. “Now we’ll bandage you up.”

  He rubbed antibiotic ointment over the hurt spot and pressed on a bandage. “There,” he said. He kept a loose grip on her foot, strangely reluctant to let it go.

  Without the daytime bustle, Main Street felt peaceful. The streetlights had come on. Overhead were leafy trees, and beyond them, stars were starting to blink in the graying sky.

  Down the street, the lights of the Chatterbox Café clicked off.

  Susan looked at him with eyes wide and vulnerable above a forced-looking smile. “Didn’t you want to stay and talk with the wife Helen picked out for you?”

  He felt one side of his mouth quirk up. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Kinda. She seemed really nice.”

  “Yes, she is.” He squeezed her foot a little tighter. “And no, I didn’t want to stay. Not when I realized you were missing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey.” He touched her chin. “I wanted to come find you.”

  “How come?”

  The question hung in the air between them. He looked at her lips.

  Which parted a little, very prettily, and then Susan pulled her foot off his lap and twisted it around her other leg, looking nervous. “Sam...”

  He brushed back a strand of hair that had tumbled down her forehead. Her skin felt soft as a baby’s.

  He breathed in, and leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers.

  * * *

  Susan’s heart pounded faster than a rock-and-roll drumbeat as Sam kissed her. Just a light brush of the lips took her breath away.

  She lifted her hands, not sure whether she meant to stop him or urge him on, and her hands encountered the rough stubble on his cheek. Intrigued, she stroked his face, getting to know the planes and angles she’d been studying, without intending to, for days.

  What did this mean? And why, oh why, did it have to feel so good? She drew in a sharp breath, almost a gasp, because he hadn’t moved away. His handsome face was still an inch from hers, and this felt like every forbidden dream she’d ever had, coming true.

  “Close your eyes,” he said in his bossy way that, right now, didn’t bother her in the least.

  And he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers again, just a little harder.

  Susan’s heart seemed to expand in her chest, reaching out toward his. Everything she’d admired about him, everything she’d been drawn to, seemed alive in the air around them.

  There was a booming sound, a bunch of crackling pops, and she jerked back as Sam lifted his head. At the same time, they both realized what it was.

  “Fireworks!” Sam exclaimed, a grin crossing his face. “How appropriate.” He studied her tenderly. “Was that okay?”

  Was it okay that he’d rocked her world? Was it okay that his lightest touch made her feel as if she was in love with him? “When I kissed my boss, I felt fireworks,” she joked awkwardly to cover the tension she felt.

  He looked stricken as the fireworks continued to create a display above their heads, green and red and gold. “Oh, Susan, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I was forgetting for a minute that you’re an employee. That was completely inappropriate.”

  Amidst the popping and booming sounds, his words were too much to process. She was still reeling from how his kiss had made her feel, and she couldn’t think why he was looking so upset.

  Unless he wished he hadn’t done it.

  “Come on,” he said, and pulled her to her feet. He didn’t hold her hand, though; as soon as he was sure she was steady, he stepped a foot away. Too far! her heart called, wanting her to grab onto him. But she squashed the feelings down.

  A minute later, she was in his truck and headed to his house. He drove like a silent statue, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

  He pulled up in the driveway and stared straight ahead. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Again, I apologize.”

  She looked at him, confused. Clearly she was being dismissed.

  Was he angry at himself for having let his feelings go out of control? Did he even have feelings, or had that been just a guy thing, driven by testosterone rather than his heart?

  She wanted to ask him about it, but suddenly, there was no closeness available for such a discussion.

  And she was just a little too fragile to push it tonight, when her lips still tingled from his kiss, her fingertips still remembered the way his strong jaw had felt beneath them.

  She’d have to face what had just happened, but not tonight.

  * * *

  The next morning, Sam was in his office trying to put out a few fires before his employee party when there was a hesitant knock on the door.

  “Come in.” He tried to ignore the way his heart leaped, but it was next to impossible. His heart knew it was Susan; Mindy wouldn’t have knocked, and who else would be in the house? And his heart was very interested in being near the woman who’d kissed him back so sweetly last night.

  Sure enough, it was her. Dressed in another faded red, white and blue T-shirt and short jeans and wearing a worried frown. When their eyes met, she blushed and looked away. “We have a problem.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just talked to Pammy. The one who’s doing the kids’ entertainment for the party? Only...she can’t do it.”

  “What do you mean?” He felt relieved that she was all business this morning. Maybe that would help his racing pulse slow down.

  “They had a death in the family and they all have to rush down to West Virginia to the funeral. And since it’s a family-run business, that’s pretty much everyone.”

  He blew out a breath, thinking of all his employees with families. They looked forward to this event as a time when they could kick back and relax, bring the kids, knowing it would be fun for everyone.

  “Any ideas?” he asked. Because if there was one thing he’d learned about Susan, it was that she was good in an emergency.

  “As a matter of fact, yes!” A smile broke out on her face, and Sam’s mouth went dry. When she was excited about something, she was pretty much irresistible.

  “What’s the idea?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

  “Let’s get dogs from Troy’s rescue to come be the entertainment.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “That won’t work.”

  “Why not?�


  “Dogs, instead of a clown and a dunking tank and carnival games?”

  She waved a hand impatiently. “Kids like real things better than all that,” she said. “If you don’t believe me, ask Mindy which she’d rather see.”

  “Oh, I know what Mindy would choose,” he said, mock-glaring at her. “She’s been on me nonstop about getting a dog. It’s almost like someone put her up to it.” He stepped closer.

  Susan’s eyes darkened and her breathing quickened. “That’s an argument for another day,” she said primly. “And it proves my point: kids love dogs.”

  “It’s not safe,” he explained, stepping back from her dangerous appeal and half sitting on the edge of his desk. “There are liability issues. If someone got bitten, it would be on Hinton Enterprises, and bad PR as well. And more than that, I like to take care of my employees, not put them at risk.”

  Susan nodded, sinking down to perch on his leather client seat. “Can’t we post a warning? And Troy wouldn’t bring any dogs who weren’t friendly.”

  Sam shrugged. “A warning might solve the liability issue, but...”

  “But you don’t like change,” she said.

  He opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again. “You’re right, I don’t. We’ve had Pammy do the kids’ entertainment for ten years.”

  “But sometimes, change has to happen,” she said gently. “Pammy can’t help it that she’s unavailable this year. Her grandma passed.”

  Troy felt like a heel. “I’ll send flowers,” he said, making a note to himself.

  “Write down, ‘Puppy for Mindy’s birthday,’” she suggested.

  He looked up at her. She was messing with him! “Don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

  “Yes. Like the fact that an only child like Mindy needs a pet.”

  “We don’t have time for a puppy.”

  “People manage!” She waved a hand. “There are dog walkers. Doggie day cares. Daisy was saying that new woman in town, your special friend, might start one.”

  “We’re losing focus. Isn’t there an easier way to entertain kids? You’re the expert in that. Think of something!” He stood and started pacing back and forth in front of his desk, filled with restless energy.

 

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