His Amish Nanny

by Samantha Price

  Dat chuckled. “Sounds like you might have a bit of a challenge there.”

  “I don't know. We'll see.”

  “How are you getting there?” Elijah asked. “I hope you don't want me to take you there because you should've asked me yesterday.”

  Thomas said, “And I can’t because I’m meeting Mandy at her place to go over wedding plans.”

  “It's close enough for me to ride my bike,” Olive said.

  Her father leaned toward her. “Make sure you write the address down for us before you leave. We need to know where you are.”

  “Of course. I can do that.” She placed bacon strips in the sizzling-hot frying pan. The usual breakfast was bacon and eggs with hash browns. She didn't know how the men could eat so much, but she knew it was tiring milking the cows twice a day, and she was sure the three of them did the work of four men. Somehow, they managed.

  * * *

  Even though she had a full day’s work ahead of her, Olive had done her fair share of chores before she left the house. She rode her bike directly to the address she’d been given by Sonia, and when she arrived, she looked up at the house and double-checked the address. She had the right place, but she hadn’t expected the house to be so grand. It looked a little out of place for the general locality. She climbed off her bike and opened the large gates, wheeled her bike through and automatically went back to close the gates. Olive had been trained to always close gates on the farm. Then she walked her bike to the side of the house and leaned it against the wall.

  It all made sense; Sonia’s son was just as wealthy as his mother. Even at the farmers market, Mrs. Worthington had been covered in diamonds, and no doubt, designer clothes. They had to be wealthy for Sonia to offer the kind of money she’d mentioned.

  The yard was beautifully landscaped and looked as if it was a park rather than a private yard. Olive wondered if Sonia’s son took care of it himself or whether he had a gardener. No, Sonia mentioned that her son worked all the time, so he most likely employed a gardener. It had to take a considerable amount of time to keep the flowerbeds and hedges in such exact and pristine shape.

  Sonia had made no mention of Leo’s mother, so Olive figured that her son was most likely divorced, or maybe a widower. The reality of her new job caused Olive’s heart to pound in her ears as she hesitated at the back door. Keep it together, Olive. Steadying herself with a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell.

  It seemed that this man, Blake, wanted his mother to look after his young boy, but Sonia had other priorities. Olive giggled to herself about Leo’s behavior the day before; she was used to young children and knew how to distract them. She had a theory that children generally misbehaved to gain attention.

  After a reasonable amount of time had ticked by, she pressed the doorbell again. When there was still no response, she called out, “Hello?”

  “Come in,” she heard a male voice say from somewhere within the house.

  She opened the door, walked in and looked around and saw no one. She walked further inside, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the kitchen. It was straight out of one of the designer magazines she often flipped through at the coffee shop. It was all dark wood and glossy, with white stone countertops and gleaming stainless-steel appliances.

  She secretly couldn’t wait until she could cook something in there. Olive snapped out of it and wondered where Leo and his father were. She moved silently through the house toward Leo’s squeals until she could tell that they were coming from the next level. She stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase when she heard Leo’s feet come padding down.

  “Leo, Leo, stop running!” Blake yelled from behind his son.

  Olive moved quickly to intercept the little boy when he reached the bottom of the staircase. She held her arms out wide and scooped him up. Leo squealed louder as she swung his little body around in a circle. She was so distracted by his happy smiling face that she momentarily forgot about the boy’s father.

  Blake stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked her up and down. “I’m sorry; I thought you were someone else. I’m not interested in any religious chatter, and I’m getting ready for work. And, yes, I’m saved.” Blake motioned toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Standing still, Olive opened her mouth in shock. “Didn’t your mother mention me?”

  He raised his dark eyebrows. “You … no ... you’re the nanny?”

  “Yes.” Olive relaxed the tension that had suddenly built up in her shoulders and set Leo back on his feet. Sonia had told him she was coming.

  “You’re Amish,” he said in an accusatory tone.

  Olive smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”

  “And you’re my mother’s idea of the perfect nanny?”

  “She said that?” Olive tried to pay attention even though Leo was tugging at the bottom of her dress.

  Blake crossed his arms and studied her through narrowed eyes.

  “Oliff, Daddy.” Leo was ignored by his father.

  The man couldn’t have made it more obvious she wasn’t welcome.

  She ignored his wariness and put out her hand. “Hello, I’m Olive Hesh.”

  His handshake was firm and his skin was velvet soft, not like the harsh callused hands she knew most of the Amish farm boys would have.

  “Blake Worthington, and I understand you’re already acquainted with my son.” He glanced down at Leo.

  “I do hope it’s all right me being here. Sonia seemed pleased to have me watch Leo.” She felt a clench of anxiety at his doubtful expression. It was clear he did not share his mother’s enthusiasm, which caused Olive’s smile to falter.

  “You’re early. Sorry about before, but I’ve never had much to do with the Amish. When I saw you just inside the door, I thought you’d come to save me from—well, save me from myself.”

  Olive felt heat rise in her cheeks. “We don’t push our beliefs onto others. And I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad time. I always try to be a little early. It’s a habit that I got from my parents; they always have to be ten or fifteen minutes early wherever they go.”

  “No,” he said, “that's fine. I like people to be on time. People don't value time nowadays. I subscribe to the notion that time is money.”

  “I know what you mean.” Olive relaxed enough to notice that he was a handsome man and so tall that he towered above her.

  Sonia hadn’t said what her son did for a living, but he did not have the build of an office worker. His hard body resembled someone who worked hard for a living, such as a farmer or a construction worker. However, he wore a white business shirt and dark gray suit pants, so it seemed his job was an office job of sorts. It was not the time to ask him what kept him away from his son every day.

  “Olive, I need to talk to you about this arrangement.”

  “Ollie, Oliff!” Leo cheered as he wrapped himself around her legs in an excited hug before grabbing her hand to drag her further into the house. “Play, Oliff! Come to my room!”

  “I'd love to!” Olive knelt down, so she was eye-to-eye with the boy. “But first, I need to talk to your daddy for a moment. Would you be a dear and set up the first game you want to play while he and I talk?”

  “I wanna play now!” Leo’s voice began lilting upward into a whine.

  Blake frowned and gently laid a hand on his son's shoulder and opened his mouth to speak, but Olive was quick to say, “Grown-ups talk first and then we’ll play. Now, you wait for me in your room.” Olive’s tone was firm but nice.

  Leo turned and toddled slowly to his room.

  Blake watched his son walk away, and said with pride, “He’s just turned two. He talks so well for his age,”

  Olive said, “Yes. Some children aren’t even talking at that age.”

  “If I’d said that he wouldn’t have listened. I see he listens to you.” He stared at Olive.

  “He does. You wanted to speak to me?”

  “Yes, come and sit in the kitchen please, if you don’t
mind.”

  While they sat, Olive studied his face. His jawline was strong, his nose was nicely shaped and not too big and his lips were full but masculine. His eyes were as dark as his hair and his face was clean-shaven. After Blake still hadn’t said anything, Olive asked, “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?”

  “Oh, yes.” He coughed and glanced at his wristwatch. “I want to make it clear this arrangement is temporary. A trial run, if you will. You'll be paid of course.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sonia, um, your mother, made it clear yesterday.”

  “She said nothing of a trial period.”

  Olive did not want to get his mother into trouble and by the frown on Blake’s brow, it looked as though that was in danger of happening. “I was a little distracted by your beautiful son and his fair hair. I don’t fully remember the exact conversation.”

  Blake’s face softened, and he gave a low chuckle. “His hair used to be long and curly, but we had to have it cut because everyone thought he was a girl. He can be distracting. Everyone makes such a fuss of his looks that I think Leo is certain he can get away with anything.”

  “I assure you I won’t let him misbehave. My parents were strict and firm, but also kind and fair.” Olive gave a quick nod of her head.

  Blake’s lips turned upward at the corners. “And how old are you? Normally, I wouldn’t ask a lady her age, but I guess I’m entitled to know in circumstances such as these.”

  Olive tilted her chin upward. “I’ll be twenty soon, Mr. Worthington.”

  He visibly winced and shook his head. “Blake, just Blake, please. I always think people are referring to my late father when they call me Mr. Worthington.”

  “Sorry.” She gave him a smile. “I can't promise I'll always catch myself though. It tends to be a habit. My family is old fashioned when it comes to respecting elders.”

  “Heavens, I’m not that old.”

  “Sorry.” She lowered her head hoping that she would not have to watch what she said every single day. “Maybe I should have said, 'employers' instead.”

  “Nothing wrong with respect,” he affirmed as he checked his watch once more. “I'm trying to get Leo on a schedule, but Mom’s let that slip by the wayside. He needs a timetable, a regular schedule. The emergency contact numbers are on the fridge.” He stood up. “I'll show you where Leo’s room is before I go to work, and my mother will be here with you for your first day—your trial day. She’s due any minute.”

  “Yes, Mr. Worthington, I mean, Blake,” she corrected herself in a quick breath. He stared at her as she gave him a light apologetic look. “I did say it was a habit!”

  “I’m sorry if I appeared to be a little short with you earlier. I was shocked my mother employed a nanny on my behalf without prior discussion. I can’t make any promises to keep you on, but since you’re already here, it’ll be a trial for today.”

  Olive was confused; didn’t he just say he’d give her a short trial period, now it was just for today? It seemed he’d made up his mind about her already, and not in a good way. “Sonia assured me this would be a full-time position. I can understand that you might want to give me a trial period of say, two weeks?”

  Blake breathed out heavily and put his fingertips to his forehead, covering his eyes as if he had a headache coming on. “Very well, very well. But it'll be one week and I'll see how we all work together.”

  “Just one?”

  “That’s all.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ve done a first aid course.” Olive hoped that would make him happy.

  “And I’m assuming my mother looked at your references?”

  “Oh, I’ve never done this before, but I’ve got a lot of younger cousins and several nieces and nephews. There are lots of children and babies in the community and we all do our fair share watching them.”

  Blake rolled his eyes and shook his head while his face turned an unflattering shade of red. “That woman… You mean you’ve got no references?”

  Olive shook her head and wondered if she really would have to turn around and ride all the way home again. It had been a longer ride than she’d expected, too.

  There was no more talk of references or Blake’s mother as Blake quickly showed her the location of a bathroom, a couple of the spare bedrooms and Leo’s room. “This is his upstairs bedroom. He has two. An upstairs one where he sleeps at night and the downstairs room where he naps during the day. He has everything he needs in both rooms.”

  Once they were back downstairs, Olive saw Leo on the floor playing with toy trucks. “Ollie, play now?”

  Blake ignored his son, looked at his watch and then looked at Olive. “Coffee, I need coffee. Can you at least make coffee?”

  Olive hesitated. Had he made up his mind already that he was not going to be satisfied with her performance? And, couldn’t the man make his own coffee? “Yes, I can. Come with me, Leo; we can play later and now you can help me fix your daddy some coffee.”

  Leo jumped up and down and followed Olive into the kitchen. Minutes later, Blake appeared in the kitchen tying his tie.

  “How do you have it?” Olive asked utterly distracted by a man getting dressed in front of her.

  Blake sat on a stool behind the island countertop that separated them. “Just black, no sugar.”

  “That’s easy.” Olive placed the coffee in front of Blake then picked Leo up and balanced him on her hip. “He’s only got underpants and socks on. I’ll go and dress him.”

  Blake waved a large, tanned hand in the air. “Yes, then come right back so I can speak to you. I’ve got to leave soon.”

  “Oh, do you want me to cook you some breakfast?”

  Blake shook his head. “No need. I always eat out.”

  Olive nodded and made her way to Leo’s bedroom.

  “And don’t let him talk you into playing before you come back,” Blake called after them.

  Olive looked into the little boy’s face and whispered to him, “You’ve gotten us in trouble before breakfast.” The boy laughed and buried his face into her shoulder as they made their way into Leo’s downstairs bedroom.

  The room was filled with toys and Olive considered that he could give two-thirds away to the poor and still have more toys than he would ever play with. “I’ve never seen so many toys except in a toy store.” She set him down and dressed him for the day. She slipped a soft, yellow shirt over his head and snapped his overall clasps at his shoulders. She examined the stitches on the overalls and knew they must have cost a sum. The overalls were double-stitched and fully lined with a different fabric. Humph, a far cry from Amish hand-me-downs. As she tied his sneakers, Leo played with the strings of her prayer kapp.

  “Hungry now, Ollie. Gimme some berries.”

  Olive laughed at how cute her name sounded when he tried to say it. “Leo, you should say, can I have some berries please?”

  “Can I have some berries, peeees?” Leo said with a sweet smile displaying his tiny white baby teeth.

  “I will give you something, but let me finish here first. Then I’ll see if you have berries in the fridge.” Leo wound the strings of her prayer kapp around his fingers while she finished tying his left shoelace.

  “I’m hungry, Ollie.” Leo’s voice raised.

  She laughed at his demands and told him once more to say please. He did so, and then he jumped into her waiting arms.

  Olive knew she would like playing with Leo every day; he was such a happy child and full of life. All she had to do now was prove to Blake she was the right person for the job. Refusing to hold her hand, Leo made his way down the stairs by himself, and then they headed to the kitchen. Olive settled the little boy into his special chair and set out to make breakfast for him.

  Blake stopped her in her tracks. “What are you doing?”

  Olive was half in the refrigerator when he spoke to her. She leaned back out with a bowl of strawberries in hand. “I’m making breakfast for Leo.”

  He stormed to the other side of the
large, kitchen island and yanked a sheet of paper off the top. Blake shoved the paper in front of her. Olive tried to read what was on the paper, but he kept moving it.

  “Blake, you’re making me sick in the tummy moving the paper like that. What’s on it?”

  He huffed out a breath and slammed the paper down on the island. “It’s the rules and instructions for the day. Including the fact berries give him a rash. It also states what breakfast is supposed to be.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think that this is a good idea. I don’t think you’re mature or experienced enough for this. Not that my mother cares at all what I think. I did also say that I wanted to speak with you. I assumed you would give me your full attention rather than start your duties before my mother arrives.”

  Leo ignored the tension in the room; all he wanted was berries. “Ollie, berries pwease!”

  Olive read the note to see that Leo had plain cereal for breakfast and nothing else. She prepared it and set it in front of him. Leo clapped in happiness at the sight of his food and Olive turned back to Blake. “You’re quite right, Blake, I’m sorry, but I was distracted by Leo and I didn’t think you’d keep anything in the fridge that didn’t agree with him. He’s quite capable of opening the door and reaching them if he really wanted to.” Olive noticed Blake’s face was red.

  “What’s the point? My mother’s taken over my life once again. She was supposed to be here.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. She’s coming here?”

  “She’s supposed to be staying all day with you and Leo.” He looked out the kitchen window where he could see the entrance of the driveway.

  “She’ll be with us all day?” Olive asked.

  “Yes, I already told you that. I hope I won’t have to tell you everything twice. I thought that it was best to ease Leo into things since he doesn’t know you.”

  And neither did Blake know her, and Olive knew that was his real problem.

  He glanced again at his watch. “I don’t know what’s keeping her. She knows I’ve got an important meeting and she’s late. I’ll call her.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and pressed some buttons. A couple of seconds later, she answered. “Mother, where are you?”