Small-Town Nanny. Lee Tobin McClain
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school that reads, ‘Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.’ I think it’s Richard Bach. I just meant...it’s an automatic response.” Stop talking, Susan. God might have a nice plan for her, but she was perfectly capable of ruining nice plans. She’d done it all her life. She fumbled in her portfolio. “Here’s my résumé.”
He took it, glanced over it. Then looked more closely. “You’ve done coursework on physical disabilities? Graduate coursework?”
“Yeah. I’m working on my master’s in special ed. Bit by bit.”
“Why not go back full-time? At least summers? Why are you looking to work instead?”
“Quite frankly, I have a mother and brother to help support.” Hello, Mr. Rich Guy, everyone’s not rolling in money like you are.
“Doesn’t the district pay for your extra schooling?”
“Six credits per year, which is two classes. I’ve used mine up.”
He was studying her closely, as if she was a bug pinned on the wall. Or as if she was a woman he was interested in, but she was absolutely certain that couldn’t be. “I see.” He nodded. “Well, I’m not sure this would be the job for you anyway. I go out in the evenings pretty often.”
“Really?” She opened her mouth to say more and then clamped it closed. Shut up, you want this job.
“I know, being young and adventurous, you must go out a lot yourself.”
“Don’t make assumptions. That’s not what I was thinking.” She looked away from him, annoyed.
“What were you thinking?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Try me.”
“I was thinking: you work super long hours, right? And you go out in the evenings. So...when do you spend time with your daughter?”
* * *
Sam stared at Susan as her question hung in the air between them. “When do I...? Look. If you’ve already decided I’m a terrible parent, this isn’t going to work.”
Truthfully, her words uncovered the guilt that consumed him as an overworked single dad. He hated how much time he had to spend away from Mindy. Half the time, he hated dating, too, but he’d promised Marie that he’d remarry so that Mindy wouldn’t be raised without a mother in the home. Probably, she’d made him promise because she knew how much he worked and feared that Mindy would be raised by babysitters if he didn’t remarry.
Well, he’d changed and was trying to change more, but he’d made a promise—not just about remarrying, but about what type of mom Mindy needed, actually—and he intended to keep it. Which didn’t mean this snippy schoolteacher had the right to condemn him.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s not my place to judge and I don’t know your situation. Ask Daisy, I’m way too outspoken and it always gets me into trouble.” Her face was contrite and her apology sounded sincere. “The thing is, I know kids and I’m good with them. If you’re struggling, either with her disability or with...other issues, I could help. Build up her self-esteem, encourage her independence.” Those pretty, almond-shaped brown eyes looked a little bit shiny, as if she was holding back tears. “Don’t turn me down just because I’m mouthy, if you think I’d be a help to Mindy.”
She was right. And he was a marshmallow around women who looked sad, especially seriously cute ones like Susan. “It’s okay.”
And it was okay. He recognized already that his burst of anger had more to do with his own guilty feelings than with her comment. But that didn’t mean he had to hire her.
The doorbell chimed, making them both jump. “That’s probably my next interview. I’m sorry.” He stood. “Here’s your résumé back.”
“It’s all right, you can keep it. In case you change your mind.” She stood and grabbed her elegant black portfolio. Come to think of it, all of her was elegant, from her close-fitting black trousers to her white shirt and vest to her long black hair with a trendy-looking stripe of red in it, neatly clipped back.
Just for a minute, he wondered what that hair would look like flowing free.
Sam forced that thought away as he came around his desk to Susan’s side. She looked neat and professional, but as soon as she opened her mouth, it became apparent that she was quite a character. Sam shook his head as he ushered her through the entryway. Why Daisy had thought he and Susan could work together was beyond him.
Thinking about her interview, he couldn’t help grinning. What job applicant questioned and insulted the potential boss? You didn’t see that in the business world. He was used to people kowtowing to him, begging for a job. Susan could take a few lessons in decorum, but he had to admit he enjoyed her spunk.
The doorbell chimed again just as they reached it, so he was in the awkward position of having two job applicants pass each other in the doorway. The new one, a curvaceous blonde in a flowered dress, stood smiling, a plate of plastic-wrap-covered cookies in her hands.
“Hi, are you Mr. Hinton? Thank you so much for agreeing to interview me. I would just absolutely love to have this job! What a great house!”
“Come on in.” He gestured the new applicant into the entryway. “Susan, I’ll be in touch.”’
“I hope so,” she murmured as she brushed past him and out the door. “But I’m not holding my breath.”
The next Thursday afternoon, Sam arrived at the turnoff to his brother Troy’s farm with a sense of relief. His sister was right; he needed to take a break from interviewing nannies during the day and working late into the night to make up for it. But he was desperate; Mindy’s last day of school had been Tuesday, and without a regular child care provider, he’d had to stay home or use babysitters who weren’t necessarily up to par.
Mindy bounced in her booster seat. “There’s the sign! Look, it says D-O-G, dog! But what else does it say, Daddy?”
He slowed to read the sign aloud: “A Dog’s Last Chance: No-Cage Canine Rescue.”
“Cuz Uncle Troy and Aunt Angelica and Xavier rescue dogs. Right?”
“That’s right, sugar sprite.” And he hoped they could rescue him, too. Or not rescue—they had too much going on for that—but at least give him ideas about getting a good child care provider for Mindy for the summer.
“There they are, there they are! And look, there’s baby Emmie!”
Sure enough, his brother and sister-in-law stood outside the fenced kennel area. He parked, let Mindy out of the car and then paused to survey the scene.
Troy was reaching out for the baby, all of two weeks old, so that his wife could kneel down to greet Mindy with a huge hug.
The tableau they presented battered Sam’s heart. He wanted this. He wanted a wife who would look up at him with that same loving, admiring expression Angelica gave Troy. Wanted a woman who’d embrace Mindy, literally and figuratively. Seeing how it thrilled Mindy, he even thought he wouldn’t mind having another baby, a little brother or sister for them both to love.
This was what he and Marie had wanted, what they would have had, if God hadn’t seen fit to grab it away from them.
He pushed the bitterness aside and strode up to the happy family. “How’s Emmie? She sleeping well?”
Troy and Angelica looked at each other and laughed. “Not a chance. We’re up practically all night, every night,” Troy said, and then Sam noticed the dark circles under his brother’s eyes. Running a veterinary practice and a rescue while heading a family had to be exhausting, but though he looked tired, there was