The Nanny Bargain

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The Nanny Bargain Page 20

by Glynna Kaye


  No one could help her with that, not even a handsome stranger with kind blue eyes. Okay, yeah, she’d noticed he was handsome, but she wasn’t interested. She’d done love and gotten her heart stomped on. And she definitely didn’t have time for casual. So, no, thanks.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” He slid the aviators back over his eyes, then pulled a somewhat tattered business card out of his wallet. “It’s old, but the cell number’s still good. Feel free to call me if you think of anything.”

  Claire glanced at the soft-edged card. “Full-service operation you’re running here.”

  “Always aim to please.” He smiled for the first time, and despite her earlier lecture to herself, her heart gave a silly little skip. “Welcome to Red Hill Springs, Claire.”

  His footsteps echoed in the empty house as he left. She followed and watched from the front door as he drove his old F-150 down the drive. When he turned onto the highway, she looked up.

  What she could see of the sky through the overgrown bushes was crystal clear and a shade of blue she’d never seen in the city. Are you there, God? Because I really need You to show up.

  She hesitated, then looked back at the sky. Like, now.

  Maybe God didn’t like being given a timeline, she didn’t know, but maybe He would understand that she had one. This place had to be up and running and making ends meet within six months, or she was toast. And not the good kind of toast, either. The burned kind that made your house smell bad and no one would eat, even if you scraped off the top layer.

  Turning back to the house, she sighed and reached for the light switch. Nothing happened.

  “Oh, perfect.” She closed her eyes. “Just...perfect.”

  * * *

  “The café was buzzing today about the mayor’s daughter turning the plantation house into a bed-and-breakfast. She filed a permit for renovation last week before she ever set eyes on the place.” Joe’s mom tasted the lima beans and turned the heat off on the stove.

  “Is that so?” Joe washed his hands at the sink in his mother’s kitchen.

  Her eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. “Yes. I think it’s about as bad as the time Hester Jenkins set John’s Dale Earnhardt collection on fire on their front lawn.”

  He shot his mom a glance. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You were somewhere in the sand when that happened.”

  Somewhere in the sand. His mother’s way of making her son’s military deployment bearable. Somewhere in the sand sounded like he could be on a tropical beach smoothing on sunscreen. Not in the middle of a war zone being shot at.

  “John dropped the charges the next week, right after he broke her grandmother’s Lladro figurine, by accident, of course. It’s not a police matter anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it.” His voice was wry and his mother made a face at him.

  “Spoilsport. What’s the mayor’s daughter like? I’d like to get a look at her.”

  “I’m sure you’ll meet her soon enough. Everyone comes into the Hilltop eventually.” He sifted through his thoughts about the newest resident of Red Hill Springs. “She’s pretty. Dark brown hair, blue eyes. Five-three or four.”

  “Once a cop always a cop. Sounds like you could pick her out in a lineup.”

  He caught the sassy sarcasm and ignored it, instead choosing to appease his mother’s innate curiosity. “She seemed...I don’t know, lost? But also determined to make a go of that old place.” He tossed his keys into a tray on the counter, where his father had tossed his, along with his badge, for as long as Joe could remember. And then there was a pang, because Frank was gone. A heart attack had taken him from them with no warning a year ago next month.

  Joe had been seven the first time he’d sworn he was leaving this town and never coming back. Eight when he’d stopped hoping his parents could be trusted. Twelve when he’d gotten caught trying to break into the police chief’s garage.

  So yeah, he knew a little bit about being lost. He’d been an angry, defensive kid, striking out at everyone and trusting no one, but instead of arresting him, Frank had taken him inside to Bertie and Bertie had taken him under her wing. Slowly, he’d realized there were no more bruises, no more wondering when he would get to eat again, no more being scared every single minute of every day.

  They’d rescued him from that life, even though they wouldn’t say so, and then they’d adopted him, giving him a real mom and dad, a brother, two sisters and a life he’d never expected. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over the feeling of stepping into someone else’s life, wondering when they would realize he didn’t belong.

  Bertie tossed some cherry tomatoes into the salad bowl. “Maybe she’s a little like Amelia, in a way, not having a daddy growing up? I think Amelia feels a little lost, too.”

  And there it was, what his mother really wanted to get at. The very new relationship between him and his daughter. “Amelia has a daddy. Unfortunately, her mother—and believe me, I use that term loosely—was the only one who knew it.”

  He heard a noise behind him, a small rush of air, and turned to see his daughter, Amelia. Just her back and a whirl of dark brown hair as she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Joe stared at the closed door, the perfect metaphor for their relationship. “She wasn’t at school today when I got there. She walked home alone again.”

  He felt his mother’s hand on his back. “She’ll come around, bud. She’s had a lot of change to deal with. All that anger hides how she really feels.”

  “She hasn’t spoken a word to me in the two weeks that she’s been here.” He had a lot of ground to make up with Amelia, he knew that. He may not be ready to be a dad, but he was one, and he didn’t want to screw it up. But where in the world did you start when you’d missed twelve years?

  “Joe, she was dropped off at the door with a note and a backpack full of clothes that didn’t fit her. Give her some time. You weren’t exactly a bundle of joy when you first came here.”

  That was an accurate statement. He paused for a second. “Did you ever regret it, taking me on?”

  She shut the refrigerator door and grabbed his face between her hands, like she used to do when he was younger. “Darling boy, I would never regret you. You are my son in every way that counts. It’s tricky now, but soon you’ll be finding your way. I promise.”

  Fighting the knot in his throat, he said, “I would do anything to be able to go back and make it right for her.”

  After high school, he’d gone straight into basic training. He’d been in Afghanistan when Lori Ann was having his baby. She could’ve gotten word to him, but she didn’t try. He had no idea Amelia even existed until she showed up on his mom’s doorstep and he’d seen his own blue eyes staring up at him.

  “I know you would do anything for her, and one day Amelia will understand that, too.” Constantly moving, she stirred the okra and tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pan. “It’s normal, Joe, to have feelings and questions about your childhood. You’ve had a rough few months. It’s no wonder you have questions.”

  Maybe that was what brought Claire to Red Hill Springs, the questions that she’d never had the answers to.

  “How long did you stay out there at the plantation? Was she nice?”

  Long used to his mother’s seeming ability to mind-read, Joe shrugged, but he remembered the look on Claire’s face as she’d stared at her inheritance. “Her name is Claire. She seemed nice enough. A little thrown by the condition of the place. It’s falling down.”

  “Is she staying at a hotel in Spanish Fort?”

  “No, I think she’s staying there at the plantation.”

  “That place is a dump.” Bertie pointed the spoon his way. He watched it warily as he sneaked a taste of the limas from the edge of the pan closest to him. “Go pick her up for di
nner and tell her to bring her stuff. She can sleep in Wynn’s room.”

  “Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He rubbed his shoulder, sending a sidelong glance at the firmly closed door to the living room. “We have a lot going on right now.”

  “We do.” His mother nodded in agreement. “But no one should show up in town and be left without a hot meal or a clean place to lay her head.”

  He didn’t want to get involved. He wasn’t like his mother. Trusting, having faith, it didn’t come easily to him. A wary sense of self-preservation had been ingrained in him as a kid. Then he fought a war on foreign soil. And then he became a cop.

  But he picked up his keys and said, “You’re sure about this?”

  “Do I look undecided?” His mom had blond hair cut into a straight bob at her chin. She always looked perfectly groomed, even standing over a hot stove, or after a long day on her feet in the café. What she didn’t look was indecisive.

  Arguing with his mother was pointless. Once Bertie took on a project, the best thing to do was get out of the way. Even his father could never say no to her, which was how they ended up with two cats, four dogs and an extra kid.

  Now she was wanting to take in the mayor’s daughter, and that was the last thing he needed.

  Copyright © 2017 by Stephanie Newton

  ISBN-13: 9781488018374

  The Nanny Bargain

  Copyright © 2017 by Glynna Kaye Sirpless

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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