The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical)

by Favorite, Danica

  Helena’s face scrunched up slightly and her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. “I’m a little concerned about their prayer request.”

  Prayer request?

  Mitch stared at her. “I don’t understand.”

  “When we asked the class for prayer requests, they asked us all to pray that they would get a new mother. Now, I know it’s none of my business, but...”

  He smiled at her. “I appreciate you letting me know. The children recently lost their mother, and now they seem intent on getting a new one, even if it’s only in their imaginations.”

  “Oh.” Sympathy lined her face. “I will definitely be praying for your family, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Thank you,” he told her, giving her another smile.

  Her face brightened as she smiled. “You are most welcome. Such lovely children. Good day.”

  She turned and left, leaving Mitch to shake his head slowly. He should consider their church attendance progress. He’d never been anywhere where someone called his children lovely. That should make up for them and their hijinks. What were they thinking, telling people something like that?

  He looked around the churchyard, spotting Polly talking to Mary, noticing that as always, Isabella clutched Polly’s skirts. Rory, Clara and Thomas were playing tag with Nugget, Caitlin and some other children. Louisa... He scanned the area until he finally saw her. Standing with a couple other girls who appeared to be her age.

  His children had never had friends. Mostly because none of the mothers were willing to allow their children to be under the influence of the Taylor Terrors, but also because other children were terrified of the kind of pranks that would be played on them. Here, there were no pranks, just good old-fashioned laughter.

  “It was a good service, wasn’t it?”

  Mitch jumped at the sound of Will’s voice. “When did you get back?”

  “Early this morning. Spent some time in Denver with an old friend, a deputy I used to work with. He gave me some information on the case I think you’ll be interested in hearing. Let’s go talk in Frank’s office, where we can have some privacy.”

  They started to walk toward the church, and Mitch glanced in Polly’s direction. She and Mary were headed their way.

  “Will it prove my innocence?”

  “It’s not a smoking gun, but it’s good. Know anyone with the initials JB?”

  JB... Mitch mentally went through the list of everyone in Hattie’s world that he’d met. “No. Did any of her friends know?”

  Will shook his head. “Nope. And none of them knew who she was seeing either. Said he was a high roller who sent her expensive gifts, but she was real secretive about it. Apparently, he was married.”

  “They always were,” Mitch said, not trying to hide his disgust.

  Polly and Mary joined them, and they went into Frank’s office. As Will gave his wife a gentle kiss on the cheek, Mitch’s stomach gave a weird start. Such tenderness between man and wife. He’d never known such a thing, and seeing it in action made him wish... Mitch shook his head. He’d wished for a lot of things, but wishing didn’t make them come true. He stole a glance at Polly, whose expression had softened. She’d been touched by the romantic gesture as well.

  “Anyway,” Will said, barely breaking stride in the conversation after greeting his wife. “Despite this fellow being married, Hattie kept acting like her ship had come in. A lot of the other actresses were upset with her for putting on airs. They said she was full of herself because she was staying in a suite at the Orrington Grand, paid for by this lover.”

  Nothing Mitch didn’t already know. “That sounds about right. But that doesn’t tell us anything. None of them knew his name?”

  “No, and I couldn’t get the clerk at the hotel to tell me anything about the room. Apparently, it was registered to her, and there’s no record of who paid.”

  “But you don’t believe the clerk?” Polly asked, her brow wrinkled in thought.

  “No. My friend said that he’d seen the room register, and the page had been torn out.” Then Will looked around. “The only reason I have the initials is that apparently a bloody cuff link bearing those letters was found clenched in Hattie’s hand. My friend was asked to dispose of it because the sheriff thought it might confuse the jury.”

  Destroying evidence. Mitch closed his eyes. He knew the sheriff would do just about anything to get reelected, but he hadn’t realized how far he’d go.

  “But your friend thinks it’s important?” Mitch examined Will’s face, hoping that there was some good news to come of the situation.

  “Yes. I told him what I knew of Hattie’s affairs, and he says it sounds like there was some kind of lover’s quarrel. People in the room below complained because they’d heard shouting. My guess, and his, is that Hattie was trying to cash in on her baby news, and he didn’t respond the way she thought he would.”

  None of them ever did, which was why Mitch had five children. But no one had ever been angry enough with Hattie over it to kill her.

  “Did he talk to the sheriff? Let him know that obviously someone besides Mitch was involved?” Polly’s voice was so earnest and sincere, Mitch wanted to be happy that he had someone like her on his side. But the more he felt appreciation for her, the more he had to face the difficulty of the fact that she would be leaving them.

  How could he keep their lives from being so intertwined? She clearly cared about what happened to him, and that made him far happier than it should.

  “The sheriff doesn’t want to hear it. Until we have conclusive proof, and a name, it’s not going to do us any good. The good news is, my friend thinks Mitch is innocent, and he’s eager to help prove it.”

  Mitch stared at him. “He’d go against the sheriff? No one there would even talk to me.”

  “And they won’t. This guy only talked to me because we’re old friends, and on the condition that I not mention his name. No one’s willing to cross the sheriff. He can make life miserable for a man who doesn’t play the game his way.”

  The familiar old resignation sat in the pit of Mitch’s stomach, like a long-lost enemy come to roost. “Is there any hope at all?”

  “If we can find out who JB is, sure.”

  Mitch glanced out the window, noticing his children still outside playing. If they didn’t find the answers they were looking for, he’d only have a few more weeks of enjoying them. And then...the enemy roosting in the pit of his stomach started to peck at his insides, taunting him with what his fate would be.

  * * *

  Polly hated seeing the discouragement return to Mitch’s face. It had been nearly banished over the past few days, and it was a shame to see his handsome features marred.

  “So how do we find out who this JB is? Do you think the owner of the hotel might know?”

  Will nodded. “I’ve got a man looking into it. Seems the hotel ownership is tied up in some kind of trust, and we’ve got to be careful about how we go about things. When I was asking questions at the hotel, word got back to the sheriff, who paid me a visit. He didn’t take kindly to my looking into things. I told him it was just curiosity because reading about the case in the papers fascinated me, but he still didn’t like it.”

  Mary made the sound she always made when she was deep in thought. Polly had almost forgotten her friend was there. But now, she was glad for it.

  “What are you thinking, Mary?” Polly asked.

  “Seems like the sheriff is doing an awful lot of chasing people away from the truth. Why would he do that if there wasn’t something to contradict the evidence he had for his easy conviction?”

  Will planted a kiss on top of his wife’s head, warming Polly’s heart. She was glad for her friend finding someone like him, especially when she noticed how pink Mary’s cheeks turned at the attention.

 
“And that, my love, is why I am so glad I married you. You have a way of confirming I’m on the right track with something, even when I just have my gut to go on.”

  “Well you’ve got mine, too,” Polly said, looking at Mitch, who was gazing out the window. “There’s something not right about how the sheriff is handling the case, and he’s hiding something important. I can just feel it. Mitch, you are absolutely not allowed to lose hope.”

  His head jerked in her direction. “Who said I’m losing hope?”

  “The crease in your brow says. And I will not have it, do you hear me?”

  As he nodded slowly, Polly caught Mary stifling a giggle. She turned to her friend. “What’s so funny?”

  “You.” She grinned, then cast Mitch a sympathetic look. “She can’t help it, you know. She’s been bossing people around most of her life, and the only reason we don’t think she’s completely insufferable is that she’s usually right.”

  For the first time since they entered Uncle Frank’s office, Mitch smiled. “Unfortunately so. But I think that’s one of the things that makes her grow on you.”

  Polly should have been irritated that they were all picking on her, but with the way the mood lightened, she couldn’t be mad.

  “Just how much has she grown on you?” Will asked, suddenly looking almost menacing.

  Polly forced herself not to smile. Watching Will take on a protective role was sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet. She looked over at Mary, who just shook her head.

  Mitch seemed to understand, too. “Not so much as you seem to be asking. Trust me, I have enough problems in my life without adding romance to the equation.”

  “Romance comes whether you want it to or not.” Will stared Mitch down the way Polly imagined he’d look at a criminal. “And just so we’re clear, if you break Polly’s heart—”

  “Oh, now stop!” Polly gave Will a hard look of her own. “We’ve already been fighting off the matchmaking efforts of the children. Both Mitch and I understand where the other stands. There are no romantic notions between us. Save your heroic efforts for that little one you’ll soon be raising.”

  Polly tossed a smile at her friend, who rubbed her stomach.

  “Are you really clear on your relationship?” Mary asked. “The harder you fight it, the harder you fall.”

  Polly let out a long breath. These people were impossible. Every last one of them. She glanced over at Mitch, who was shaking his head. At least he understood where things stood between them.

  “I can almost understand why Polly doesn’t want to get married,” Mitch said. “The way folks keep matching her up when she says she’s not interested has to be frustrating.”

  Then he grinned. “Knowing Polly, she’s apt to never marry just to spite you all.”

  “You do like her,” Mary said, looking quite like she’d been given a tray of Maddie’s tarts all to herself.

  “I can like her all I want, but that doesn’t mean I have to marry her.” Then Mitch sobered. “Your teasing is just as futile as finding Hattie’s killer seems to be. Actually, I’m starting to think that there’s a greater chance of my marrying Polly than there is of finding Hattie’s killer, and I am absolutely not interested in marrying her—or anyone else.”

  Well, that was a comfort. Even with his “or anyone else,” it was a little insulting to hear the vehemence about not marrying her. Not that she wanted to marry him, of course, but it was the principle of the matter.

  He gave Polly a sympathetic look. “It’s nothing against you, but I’m sure you can understand where I’m coming from. Marriage has brought me nothing but trouble.”

  Then he let out a long sigh. “Although I would never change my decision to marry Hattie. I don’t know what I’d do without the children.”

  Mary gave Will that sickeningly sweet look Polly was used to seeing her friends give their husbands. “Not all marriages are bad.”

  The same argument Mary, Annabelle and Emma Jane had been giving Polly the past few months. But what happened when the passion faded? When the newness of having that someone in their lives was gone? Her conversation with Ma fluttered back into her mind. She’d been wrong about her pa all these years. Could all these arguments Polly had been making against marriage be wrong?

  It didn’t matter, she told herself firmly. She and Mitch were not getting married. Mitch had just made his position quite clear, and hopefully everyone else would finally listen.

  Polly cleared her throat. “Marriage may well have worked out for you, but discussing the merits or disadvantages to such a state isn’t going to help Mitch stay out of jail. What we need now is a plan.”

  She mentally patted herself on the back for getting the conversation back on track. Especially since Mitch looked just as relieved to finally have the pressure taken off. He wanted to talk about marriage as little as Polly did, and it was frustrating to have everyone continually bring it up.

  “I’m not sure what else we can do until we find out who the owner of the Orrington Grand is,” Will said. “All of my leads have dried up, and unless we have someone come forward with the identity of JB, we’re at a dead end. I was really hoping that Mitch would know.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and Uncle Frank poked his head into the room. “I just wanted to see if you were almost finished. I’m supposed to be meeting with a couple to discuss their wedding, but if you’re going to be much longer, I can take them over to the house.”

  Will waved him in. “No, we’re done. I was just updating them on what I found on my trip to Denver.”

  “Good news, I hope?” Uncle Frank sounded optimistic as always. Sometimes Polly envied him that ability. She’d never spoken to him of her doubts about marriage because his was one of the few truly happy marriages she’d witnessed. How could someone who’d had it so easy understand what it was like to fear the realities she’d known?

  “Some promising information, but unfortunately, unless you know who owns the Orrington Grand, we’ve hit a dead end,” Will said, looking regretfully in Mitch’s direction.

  “What’s this about the Orrington Grand?” Eleanor Steele, a young lady Polly recognized from Bible study, entered the room followed by a gentleman Polly didn’t recognize. Presumably, Eleanor’s intended.

  Eleanor paused briefly, but when no one volunteered information, she continued. “Mother and I stayed there when we went to Denver to do some shopping for the wedding. Not nearly as fine an establishment as the Rafferty, but it’s not terrible. Take my advice, and if you stay there, don’t get caught up in conversation with the proprietors. The wife is all right I suppose, but the husband is a dreadful bore.”

  “Who might they be?” Mary asked. “Do we know them?”

  Eleanor sighed. “Not likely, though they are staying with us. Laura Haywood Booth is older than we are, and to my knowledge, she hasn’t been to Leadville until now. James, her husband, was a nobody until he married her. Fortune hunter, you know. The family was so convinced that all he wanted was poor Laura’s money that they tied everything up in a trust that he has no access to.”

  Polly, Mitch, Mary and Will all looked at each other.

  “You said her husband is James Booth?” Will asked, sounding casual, even though Polly knew they were all hanging on the answer.

  “You’ve heard of him?” Eleanor sounded incredulous. “He’s of no consequence. The money is all from the Haywood family. I’m quite surprised really. As I said, he’s a dreadful bore, and poor Laura is as timid as a mouse. I can’t imagine what Mother was thinking, inviting them up, but you know how she is.”

  Eleanor let out a long sigh. “You can’t imagine what an imposition it’s been hosting them. I had thought they were only staying for a few days, but Mother is constantly making plans for her and Laura. She says Laura is in desperate need of her help. For what, I’d like to know.” />
  “They’re staying at your house?” Polly tried to hide the excitement from her voice. Could the answer to their woes be so simple?

  “Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying, isn’t it? It’s why Mother isn’t here today. She’s taking Laura to see her favorite milliner.”

  Will gave Eleanor what appeared to be a sympathetic look. “How long has it been?”

  “Forever.” Eleanor let out a long sigh. “Here I am, trying to plan a wedding, and Mother is busy entertaining these people.”

  Mary nodded and touched the woman’s arm gently. “Having recently married myself, I can only imagine how trying that must be for you. Planning a wedding is so much work. Why would your mother let them stay so long if it’s interfering with your plans?”

  “Well that’s just it,” Eleanor said. “I assume since we’re here in the pastor’s office, you won’t breathe a word to anyone. But honestly, I’m so upset by the whole thing, I have to get it out.”

  They all murmured their agreement that of course they wouldn’t share what Eleanor told them.

  “Did you hear about that horrible murder that happened in Denver? An actress was brutally killed right there, in the Orrington Grand. Can you imagine? A murder. Right there. Just down the hall from where Mother and I were sleeping. Why, it could have been us.”

  Polly bit her lip to keep from reacting. This could be even better information than they’d hoped for.

  “The papers say it was the woman’s husband, acting in a jealous rage, but what if it wasn’t? There’s a madman on the loose, and we were nearly victims.”

  Instinctively, Polly reached for Mitch’s arm, giving him a sympathetic squeeze. He’d most likely heard worse, but it had to be hard to hear someone sensationalizing what had happened. And at least Eleanor was willing to give the husband the benefit of the doubt.

  “After the deputies questioned us, Mother was intent on getting us home to our own beds, where we didn’t risk being murdered in our sleep. But when we went to check out, James Booth was there, and he was absolutely insistent on having us for lunch. It was very kind of him to want to be sure the deputies weren’t too hard on us, but he just kept asking questions, making us miss the train.”