by Ally Blake
“And how long have you lived next door?”
Elli lifted her chin. “I’m housesitting for family friends at the moment. I was laid off from my job in Calgary and took the offer to stay at their place while I upgrade some courses and look for work.”
She really hoped that didn’t sound pathetic. Lord knew she wasn’t alone. Lots of people had lost their jobs lately as the economy tanked. Surely she couldn’t be judged just because she’d been a victim of budget cuts.
“And you’re single?”
“Recently divorced.”
She could feel Wyatt’s gaze on her and she refused to meet it. She knew if she did she would blush and that would betray her words. She hadn’t lied. They weren’t dating. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t an attraction on her part and she did not want to give that away. There was too much at stake.
“Children?”
She swallowed, held Beck’s gaze. “No.”
“What do you feel qualifies you for this position, then?”
And finally she couldn’t help it. Her gaze rose to Wyatt’s. His face was nearly unreadable, but she saw a softening around his eyes. He was thinking—as she was—of the baby she’d lost. And he would not say a word about it. She could tell by the compassion in his eyes. Her secret was safe.
She faced Angela again and offered a smile, bolstered by Wyatt’s silent support across the room. “I’m available,” she began, “and more than that, I have love to give. A baby’s needs are simple—food, sleep, diaper changes. Anyone can provide that. What Darcy needs is love and attention and security. I can help Wyatt provide all of that. Most daycares won’t even think of taking a newborn. With me here, Darcy is guaranteed to have the undivided attention of at least one of us at all times. She’ll have some sort of consistency.”
As she finished, a thin cry came from behind her. “And speaking of,” Elli continued, trying very hard to smile while keeping a tight grip on her emotions, “I think someone would like her swing wound again. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Of course. It is a perfect time for me to begin the interview with Mr. Black.”
Darcy was sucking on her hands again, so Elli quickly warmed a bottle and took it with her to the bedroom. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she murmured to Wyatt as she passed him. “We’ll be in the bedroom if you need me.”
The softened look around his eyes was gone, replaced by a hard, distrusting edge. He was so afraid, she realized, and wondered why. Everything she’d seen him do the past three days—everything—had been for Darcy’s well-being and at sacrifice to his own. Was he hiding something more that she should be concerned about?
“It’ll be fine,” she reassured him in a low voice. She wanted to reach out and touch him but held back. It wasn’t the time or the place, not when she was simply the nanny. Remembering his choice of words made it slightly easier for her to walk away.
Once in the bedroom she arranged the spare pillows on the bed and got comfortable, Darcy cradled in her arms. “Okay, sweet pea,” she said softly, adjusting her position and Darcy’s weight until both were comfortable. Darcy eagerly took the bottle and Elli sighed. She could hear Wyatt’s deep voice and Angela’s feminine one from the kitchen. Her back stiffened against the headboard, and she sighed. The sofa would have been more comfortable, but Wyatt needed privacy. Elli thought briefly of the rocking chair she’d bought but Tim had returned to the store, insisting it didn’t match their decor.
The solid wood and Quaker design would have fit in here perfectly.
It would have fit in, but she didn’t. Even if she had been pretending she did, she realized. Today had shown her that. She was still on the outside, looking in through a dusty pane of glass. This wasn’t about her. It was about Wyatt and Darcy and protecting his family. His explanation today that she was “just” the nanny had shown her that he would do what was necessary to keep Darcy with him. That he was sticking to their original arrangement. And of course he should.
But it was very clear that she was not Wyatt’s priority despite their pretty little scenes together. If nothing else, the past few days had shown her that dissolving her marriage to Tim had been the right thing. For even if she didn’t belong here, she was coming to understand what it was she wanted. And it had nothing to do with a fancy house and expensive car and having the right things.
She wouldn’t settle for anything less than it all. Not ever again.
CHAPTER NINE
WYATT COULDN’T AVOID the house any longer. Not the house in particular, but Elli. Darcy was too little to ask questions, of course, but Elli could. And would. She seemed to notice every little thing about him, reading him better than anyone he ever remembered.
It was incredibly disconcerting.
But dark was coming on and he’d relied on her for too long today. Darcy was his responsibility and Elli was here to help. He couldn’t hide out in the barns any longer. Chores were long finished. It was time to regroup and move on.
He made it as far as the veranda, with his hand on the handle of the door, but he couldn’t make himself go in. Not yet.
Instead he turned, rested his hands on the old wood railing. The veranda faced north, and he gazed out over the brown, empty field across the road. Next year it would provide hay for his herd, and he could almost see the welcoming green-brown grasses, waving in the prairie wind.
This was all he’d ever wanted. A place to call his own. To leave the past behind him. To find his own way, make his own living. He’d done it, too, relying on himself, putting money away until he’d found this place. His Realtor had looked at him skeptically when he’d said he wanted it. It had been neglected and had fallen into disrepair. His herd for this year was small. But the challenge of rebuilding, of growing it into something vital and important was exciting.
Until today, when he’d had to face his past all over again. All the prying, awful queries that he’d had to answer about his upbringing. He had come away from the meeting angry and resentful and afraid, and those were three emotions he’d worked very hard to overcome. He couldn’t explain it all to Elli. He needed her on his side in this and if she knew the ugly truth she’d be gone like a shot. Elli was too good, too pure to get wrapped up in his baggage. He’d do well to remember it.
When he thought of her waiting inside, he tensed all over again. She’d looked so pretty today in her red sweater and makeup. He hadn’t missed the little touches around the house either, the pillows and tablecloth and, for heaven’s sake, matching dishcloths. He scowled. Before Miss Beck had come he’d recognized them as a good idea. But now … this was his house. Elli’s presence was everywhere, in every corner. The past forty-eight hours had moved at warp speed and he was struggling to keep up mentally and physically. Coming in to a bunch of feminine touches was simply too much. Something had to give.
“Wyatt?”
He spun, his breath catching in surprise as she appeared as if she’d materialized from his thoughts. The porch light highlighted her pale hair, making her look soft and alluring. “I didn’t hear you come out.”
“No, you were in another world.”
She was right, and it had been a world with her in it, so he didn’t answer.
She stepped up beside him, mimicking his stance with her hands on the railing. Her voice was soft, so that it almost seemed part of the breeze. “Do you want to tell me where you were?”
He deliberately misunderstood her. “In the barns.”
She laughed lightly, ending on a sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”
He expected her to go on, but she didn’t. She just waited patiently, as if it didn’t matter if he said anything more or not. She simply stood beside him, breathing deeply of the crisp autumn air. Her scent, something light and floral, drifted over to him and he felt his muscles tighten in response. This was why he’d stayed away. Because after Angela had departed, he’d wanted nothing more than to seek Elli out. To have her near, to bury his face in her sweet-smelling hair and feel that every
thing was right again. And that would have been a mistake.
“Where’s Darcy?”
“Sleeping. She had a bath and her bottle. She’s such a good baby, Wyatt. When you first showed up at my door, I had no idea what I was doing. But Darcy’s shown me, bless her.”
“You didn’t seem unsure. Angela seemed pleased enough with you being Darcy’s nanny.” Wyatt turned away from the view and rested his hips against the railing so he could look into her face. It was calm, serene even, while he still felt in such turmoil. Again he fought against the urge to pull her into his arms. No, he was stronger than that. He had to keep the lines drawn.
“Nanny.” Elli’s voice sounded flat. “That certainly tells me where I stand, doesn’t it?”
Was she angry with him? She crossed her arms over her chest, chafing them as if she was cold, but even Wyatt understood the defensive body language. “What was I supposed to say, Elli?”
That caused her to pause, and her gaze flew to his.
“What was I supposed to tell her?” he asked. “That I barely knew you? That we were friends?” He swallowed hard. “That I kissed you last night and it was a mistake?”
“Of course not,” she whispered. Her eyes had widened as he’d spoken and he regretted the harsh way he’d said it.
“I had to present everything in a positive way for Darcy’s sake. And thank God I did. I might lose her anyway now.”
Elli’s lips dropped open. He could see she was surprised by his last remark, and part of him wanted to confide in her but another part wanted to lock it all away as he’d done for the past fifteen years.
But Elli’s response surprised him. “I’m not just a nanny to you, then?”
“Elli …”
“That was our agreement, but I really hated that part, you know. The part where you cozied up to her with your smiles and saying all the right things and passed me off as only the nanny, like some appendage to the situation that could be replaced at a moment’s notice if it wasn’t convenient.”
She reminded him of a little girl who lifted her chin and accepted a dare while being scared to death on the inside. Defiant and terrified. He wondered why. Was she afraid of him? Of herself?
The air hummed between them while he fought for the right thing to say. “Why do we have to quantify our relationship at all? Elli, are you …” He paused, not believing it was true but wanting to know just the same. “Are you jealous of Miss Beck?”
A faint blush blossomed on her cheeks.
“You are.” By all rights the knowledge should have made him retreat, away from messy emotions that had no place in this situation. A solid reason to back away, his head was telling him. She’d managed to insinuate herself into nearly every aspect of his life in the past few days, and without even trying.
He should be backing off. But he found himself slightly flattered. Maybe she hadn’t been as immune to his kiss last night as he’d thought.
He stepped forward, mysteriously charmed by the roses in her cheeks. He’d thought calling her the nanny was the clearest and best way of defining the situation, especially to someone who had a say in the matter. Angela Beck, for all her pretty looks and smiles, had more power than he was comfortable with. He didn’t regret kissing her, not really. And it sure didn’t stop him from wanting to do it again, despite his better judgment.
He was close enough that now she had to tilt her head to look up at him. It would take only the slightest shift and his lips could be on hers. The idea hovered there for a moment, and the way her breath was coming, in shallow, quiet gasps, he could tell she was thinking about it, too.
“It made me feel … pushed to the side,” she finally admitted, lowering her chin and breaking the moment. “Marginalized. Like I was … somehow expendable.”
That hurt, because making her feel that way was the last thing Wyatt wanted. Couldn’t she see that he cared about her? That he was trying to protect her, too? But how could he do that and still protect himself?
“That certainly wasn’t how it was meant,” he consoled her. “Do you know what it meant to be able to say that today? To be able to point out that Darcy was cared for so well? And you were here, looking after her, and making coffee, and backing me up, showing her that I was right to trust you.” He lifted his fingers to her face, touched the cool, soft skin of her cheek. “No one has ever done that for me before. No one. I never meant to make you feel like less because of it, Elli.”
He understood her insecurity and refused to add to it by making her feel unimportant. He leaned forward, just enough that their bodies brushed and he lowered his head, his Stetson shadowing them from the light of the porch. Her lips were warm, pliant and just a little bit hesitant. The sweetness fired his blood more than any passionate embrace might have.
“It was just for show. You are more than a nanny, Elli,” he murmured against her lips. “But I couldn’t let the social worker see that.”
Elli stepped out of his embrace. He could see her fingers tremble as she touched her lips and then dropped her hand.
“You trust me?”
“Of course I do. Why do you continue to doubt it? I would only leave Darcy with someone I trusted.”
“But you hardly know me!”
His smile followed her as she went back to the railing, putting several feet between them.
“I know you better after two days than I know most people after two years, Ellison.”
She shook her head, her face white now. “Don’t. Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“B-because it … it …” She kept stammering and his heart beat faster, not sure what her answer would be but knowing what he hoped. Nothing could have surprised him more, but there it was.
“Because it scares you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
The air began to hum again.
Elli blinked, swallowed. He watched each movement with great attention, trying to drink in every nuance of her. She had lost so much over the past months. Wyatt had overcome many of his demons through the years, but Elli’s wounds were fresh. Surely, for this once, he could say what he felt if it meant giving her back some of her self-esteem.
“Angela Beck is no more beautiful than you, Elli.”
“You’re just trying to distract me.” Her eyes narrowed. “My hair was a mess and any fool can see I am overweight and … well, she looked so put together and perfect!”
Was that what this was about? Perfection? He’d learned long ago that perfection was overrated and impossible. It was intimidating and unsustainable, as well. “What you are, Ellison Marchuk, is real.”
He closed the distance between them once more, this time leaving her no escape as his body blocked her from the front and the railing from the back. He put his hands on her waist and drew her closer so that their bodies brushed. His fingers trailed over her ribs and down the curve of her hip. “I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be just as you are. I like your curves, and the way your hair curls around your forehead, and just about everything about you.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” she whispered, and he could tell she was tempted to give in.
Elli heard the words and felt his hands slide over the pockets of her pants. She sighed, a sound of bliss and longing and fear. Did he really mean it? When was the last time someone had taken her as she was and it had actually been okay? Everyone always expected more of her.
She should be smarter, more ambitious, neater, prettier, thinner. And yet Wyatt didn’t seem to care about any of that. At the same time she wanted to be more for him. He was a good man, she could tell. Strong and honorable and gorgeous without even trying.
His hand rested at her waist as his voice touched her, deep and sad. “Whoever told you otherwise isn’t here now, Elli. Let it go.”
Oh, the kindness was nearly too much to bear. If he kept on, she’d start crying and that would be a horrible mess. The only way to hold it together was to straighten her spine and dismiss his kindness. All of it, and k
eep only the sweet memory of his words locked inside like a treasure.
“Let it go like I suppose you have, Wyatt?”
She nearly cringed at how harsh her words sounded. Was she so wrapped up in protecting herself that she’d hurt him to do it? Shame burned within her. His hand stopped moving on her hip and she felt him straighten, the intimate moment lost.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He dismissed her comment, but she knew he was lying. She’d fought back simply to avoid being pulled down into more sadness, but his evasive answer somehow made her mad. She had been rude, but it had also been an honest question. He could see into her so easily—why shouldn’t she know more about him? She wanted him to be straight with her. She needed it.
“You know exactly what I mean. You hightailed it out of here after Angela left and hid out in the barns ever since. That had nothing to do with me. What did you mean before, that you might lose her anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he replied, backing away. He turned and headed toward the veranda steps.
Elli watched him walk away, and anger warred with remorse for turning the tables on him. She’d thought she wanted to hear him confirm that yes, she was simply there to help Darcy. It would have made it much easier to fight her growing attraction, knowing it wasn’t returned. But he hadn’t. He’d brought up the kiss, the one she couldn’t erase from her mind. And then he’d kissed her again, making her toes curl. Why had he done it? Because he meant it? Every cell in her body wanted to believe that, but a nagging voice in her head told her it was merely a method to distract her from the real issue—the reason he’d disappeared after Miss Beck had departed.
Now he was shutting her out and walking away when she was aching to understand why a mere mention of his interview made his face turn pale and his shoulders stiffen. What had happened to make him seek solitude for hours? Why was he hurting so much?