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He looked at the other children. He’d gone out early this morning, before any of them were up. “What is she wearing?”
“A pink dress,” Louisa volunteered.
Everyone stood there, staring at him. “Well, let’s find her!”
Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity in the store as everyone went off in search of Isabella. Mitch paused at the counter for a moment.
“It’s all right,” Polly said kindly, her hand resting on his arm. “I’m sure we’ll find her.”
Mitch nodded. Like all of the other difficult emotions he had to suppress in life, this one should be no different. After all, Isabella disappeared all the time. She liked to hide in small spaces, where she’d curl up and take a nap. The rational part of his brain told him that Isabella was most likely somewhere doing just that. But the ache in his heart...the one that had already borne too much for any man to bear...
“Thank you,” he said simply. Then he turned to look for his daughter.
* * *
Mitch Taylor was not a cold man, Polly had decided upon meeting him. The simple way he spoke, seemingly unattached, gave an air of coldness that would have driven most people off. But there’d been a catch in his voice whenever he spoke of his children that gave him away. He might want people to think him detached, but Polly could tell by the love in his eyes that he cared deeply for his children.
She paused at a pile of blankets tossed casually on the floor. Mrs. Taylor would never tolerate such disarray in the store. Though she only spoke to the other woman briefly on her visits, Polly knew the pride Mrs. Taylor took in keeping everything in order.
Polly knelt down and moved the blankets. She spied a mass of curly black hair.
She gently touched the child. “Isabella?”
The little girl sighed and pulled the blankets back closer to her.
“I’ve found her!” Polly stood and waved Mitch over.
The relief spreading across the man’s face reaffirmed her belief that there was more to Mitch than he let on. He ran to them and immediately scooped up the little girl into his arms.
“Isabella!” He cradled her against him. Then she lifted her head, yawned and looked around.
Which is when Polly noticed that Isabella was completely unlike any of Mitch’s other children in appearance. Her mass of curls was much darker than the straight brown hair of her other four siblings. But it was the deep rich brown of Isabella’s skin that struck her the most. Especially as it contrasted with Mitch’s fair skin, blond hair and blue eyes.
Her friend Emma Jane had adopted a child, and Polly had always admired her for the ferocity with which she and her husband, Jasper, loved little Moses. But to see this strange man, who wore such a veneer of ice, loving a child so clearly not his own, it made Polly’s heart tumble in a funny manner she hadn’t expected.
“Yes, she’s mine,” Mitch said curtly, still cradling the little girl as he moved past her.
“Of course she is,” Polly said, knowing how Emma Jane and Jasper often had to correct others who made unkind remarks about Moses not being theirs. “I can see you love her very much.”
Mitch relaxed slightly, then peered down at his daughter. “You gave us quite a scare, Isabella. You mustn’t hide like that.”
“I was sweepy,” the little girl mumbled, then rested her head back on her father’s shoulder.
“Mrs. Abernathy’s lessons were too long today,” the eldest girl, Louisa, said as she joined them. “She wasn’t paying the slightest attention to Isabella and was more worried about Clara’s spelling. Rory told her that Clara cheated on her lessons, so Mrs. Abernathy rapped her knuckles. If I hadn’t been forced to work on penmanship, I might have been able to look after Isabella myself.”
Louisa gave him a haughty glare. “I’m twelve years old. I don’t see why I need lessons anymore. I can watch the younger children, and then you won’t need to hire any more dreadful nannies like Mrs. Abernathy. I’m practically a grown woman. I can do it.”
Polly fought the urge to laugh. At twelve, she’d thought herself quite the grown woman. And, in truth, she’d taken on much of those responsibilities. Her mother had been busy taking in the washing from other miners and their families, her father had been busy working in the mines. That is, when her father hadn’t been too drunk to work. It had fallen on Polly’s shoulders to keep an eye on both her younger siblings and any of the other young children in the various mining camps they’d bounced between.
But it was not a life she’d wish on any twelve-year-old child. If a girl had a choice, anything was better than the drudgery of running a household that wasn’t hers to run.
“We won’t be having this argument again,” Mitch said, shifting Isabella in his arms. “You need an education so you can have a good life for yourself.”
“I do have a good life,” Louisa declared hotly, “at least when I don’t have a horrible nanny forcing me to do useless things.”
“Your education is not useless.” Mitch’s voice held the same calmness she’d observed when she first met him. “You have no idea the doors it will open up for you.”
Louisa looked like she was going to speak, but then closed her mouth as she nodded grudgingly. Her expression was anything but accepting, but at least she appeared to be listening to her father.
Polly would have given anything to have her only responsibility be her lessons at that age. Instead, she changed diaper after diaper, wishing things could be different. It was only the Lassiters’ influence that had allowed her to have an education in the first place.
Pastor Lassiter, or Uncle Frank, as he’d lately insisted he be called by the MacDonald family, and his late wife, Catherine, had come to the mining camps as part of their ministry to spread the gospel to the miners. But more than that, they’d helped Polly’s family better their circumstances, and Polly had been able to take lessons with their daughter, Annabelle.
Uncle Frank! Polly looked around, realizing for the first time that while she’d come with the pastor, in all of the excitement, she’d forgotten him.
She spied him at the counter, talking with Mr. Taylor and his wife. Polly started toward the Taylors, noting that Mitch followed close behind.
“Ah! Polly!” Uncle Frank stepped aside to let Polly join the conversation.
“I’m sorry, I got caught up in all the excitement.” Three little heads peered from around the corner of the counter.
“Yes, I saw.” Uncle Frank smiled. “I think we stopped by in the nick of time.”
He turned his attention to Mitch. “Frank Lassiter. I’m the pastor at Leadville Community Church. Andrew wanted me to welcome you to town, let you know that we’re here for you if you need anything.”
Mitch frowned, then gave his brother a funny look. “You know I’m not much of a church-going man. The church—”
“This church is different. Trust me. Pastor Lassiter can help with your situation,” Andrew Taylor said.
Uncle Frank made a face. “Please. I’ve told you to call me Frank. We’re all the same in the Lord’s eyes, so don’t make me any more than I am.”
“I’m sure the church can’t do anything for my situation. I need a new nanny, that’s all.”
The hard set to Mitch’s jaw made Polly’s heart ache. They’d encountered a lot of pride over the years, both when Polly’s family helped take care of other miners’ children, and now with helping Uncle Frank with his ministry to the miners and the outcasts of Leadville society. Mitch wanted help. But like so many who’d been wounded in the past, accepting help from the church was almost too difficult to bear.
Uncle Frank looked over at Polly. “That is something we can help with. Polly is wonderful with children, and I know she’d be delighted to help with yours until you can find a replacement.”
The familiar resentment rose up in Polly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like children, or that she didn’t like being with children. But her entire life, she’d heard the same thing: “Polly won’t mind.” “Polly would be delighted.” Only no one ever bothered to ask if, in fact, Polly had any opinion on the matter at all.
Surely there had to be more to Polly’s life than the same drudgery that seemed to be a woman’s lot. Until she married, she was under the direction of her family in doing whatever they wanted. And then, when she finally settled on a husband, it would be more of living whatever life he chose for her. When did Polly get to choose for herself? To live beyond dirty diapers, washing that needed done and cleaning up after everyone else.
And it wasn’t that Uncle Frank, her mother and everyone else asked things of her that were intolerable. It was just that...no one ever gave her a choice. All she wanted was to find her own way in the world and choose to live a life she wanted, not having to constantly do what everyone asked her to do.
As for finding a husband, well, Polly had fooled around with the notion of romance. Only a lot of people were not who they seemed, and she’d been taken in by the wrong sort of fellow. There were a lot of wrong sorts of fellows in Leadville, and as much as a girl wanted to believe in the happy endings a few of her friends had, finding an honorable man was just as difficult as finding a good vein of silver. It might happen to some folks, but too many people lost everything in their hunt for the elusive treasure.
So what was left for Polly? Continuing to be “delighted” to perform every menial task her family gave her since she was without the benefit of a husband? Settle for marriage to a man who was nice enough but spent his spare time in the many saloons and brothels in town? No, she had to find a way to make her own way in the world.
A respectable way in the world. She’d met enough working girls to know she didn’t want a life outside of the respectable bounds of society. Which left her few options outside of marriage or remaining the dutiful daughter.
But perhaps, with this situation, there was a way for everyone to get what they wanted.
Polly smiled and turned to the gentlemen.
“Actually, Uncle Frank, I would like to apply for the position myself. I think it would be good to earn my own money and start to live my own life.”
Uncle Frank stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Is there something you need? I thought I paid Gertie plenty to provide everything you could want, and your father is earning a nice wage running the mine. I’m sorry if we haven’t been generous enough.”
The genuine despair at having thought he’d cheated her family in some way tore at Polly’s heart. Uncle Frank had been too generous, to a fault, for many years.
“That’s not it at all.” Polly sighed. “Everyone my age is married. Annabelle, Mary, Emma Jane. Every time I begin to form a new friendship, the woman finds a husband. I’m sure I’ll have to marry eventually, but I don’t want that right now. I—”
“I know your heart was broken by that fellow, but you’ll find another. In time.”
All of the other adults murmured in agreement. All except Mitch, who stared at her intently. His seemingly expressionless face gave almost nothing away. But his eyes...they seemed very interested in what Polly had to say.
“This isn’t about what Tom did. I’ve been over him for a long time. This is about me, and finding what’s important to me in life. Surely there is more to life than the drudgery of marriage and children. If I can take a job, earn some money, then I can go off in the world and find what else is out there for me.”
“If taking care of children is drudgery, then why would you want to take care of my children?” Mitch asked quietly.
Polly’s hand flew to her mouth. She often got into trouble for speaking her mind without thinking. It had almost ruined her friendship with Annabelle, but fortunately, the two of them had been able to mend the rift. Since then, Polly worked very hard to temper her tongue.
“Because they aren’t my children, and I’m being compensated for my time. I enjoy working with children, but I also want time for myself. I can have that if I’m taking care of your children.”
Polly took a deep breath, then drew the courage to share her plans with Uncle Frank. “I’ve been thinking of obtaining my teaching certification. If Mr. Taylor does not hire me, then I will find a job elsewhere to earn the money needed to take the course.”
Then she turned back to Mitch. “Surely we can work something out. You need a nanny, and I need employment. I’m good with children, you heard it yourself.”
“All right,” Mitch said, looking at her. “I’m willing to discuss the job with you. Once you’ve heard what it entails, you can decide for yourself if it’s drudgery or not.”
Polly almost felt the weight of her life lift off her shoulders. But as she noticed the calculated way Mitch still observed her, she knew that her challenges had just begun. In fact, as she heard one of the boys, Thomas, let out a yelp, she had to wonder if she’d just put herself into an even more challenging situation than the one she was desperate to leave.
Chapter Two (#ulink_b248e765-3af9-5649-acd2-8bcb9f3280ee)
He was crazy to even consider it, Mitch told himself firmly as he followed Polly and Frank back to the parsonage, where Frank insisted they would be more comfortable discussing the issue. The children skipped on ahead, gleeful at having gotten rid of yet another nanny. And, he was certain, already plotting ways of getting rid of Polly.
Mitch kept stealing glances at the girl, who suddenly seemed so young. Too young, but probably the same age Hattie had been when they’d married. Perhaps even older.
Hattie’s dreams had not included marriage or family either. But Mitch hadn’t understood that when she’d accepted his proposal. Nor had he realized it when the baby, Louisa, had come too soon. He’d been forced to accept that reality when he’d been left alone too many nights with the squalling baby as Hattie pursued her career on stage.
At least Polly had the maturity to realize that she wasn’t meant to be a wife and mother. She wouldn’t leave behind a brokenhearted husband and children who didn’t understand why their darling mummy didn’t want to be with them. That had been years ago, of course. Mitch’s heart had healed, and the children understood that Mummy had to travel a lot for work and they lived for the moments when she could be with them.
Well, that’s how it had worked while Hattie was alive. With her gone, Mitch didn’t know what hope the children clung to, or how he was supposed to make up for a lack of a mother. Even one as inattentive as Hattie.
They arrived at the parsonage, a cheerful yellow house that looked like it had been tacked on to several times over the years. Frank escorted them to the parlor, then excused himself briefly to get the rest of the family to make introductions.
Polly sat on the sofa, smiling at Mitch’s children, who now regarded her with a great deal of suspicion.
A short robust woman entered the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is this nonsense I hear about Polly becoming a nanny? And going off to be a teacher?”
“Maddie, stop.” Another woman, an older, stouter version of Polly, entered the room and looked at her. “But you should have told us.”
“Ma, I...” Polly looked up helplessly, as though she hadn’t quite thought through her plan.
Before Polly could finish, Frank reentered the room, several children following him.
“I realize this isn’t a standard part of employment negotiations, but since our families will be connected in the coming months, I wanted you to meet everyone. Besides, I’m sure your children could use some friends.”
Frank introduced the children, and Mitch’s head spun from all the names. From what he gathered, Frank’s son-in-law, Joseph, had recently built a house next door. Joseph was raising his orphaned siblings, and while the eldest, Mary, had recently married, the Stone children rivaled Mitch’s own in number. Additionally, when Polly and her mother, Gertie, came to stay with Frank to help with the Stone children, they’d brought along Gertie’s youngest daughter, Caitlin. Polly’s older brothers and father remained in the mining camp, running the Stone mine. And, apparently, the folks at the parsonage also cared for several other children as well.
All told, Mitch counted a dozen children, in the age ranges of his own. A little girl about the same age as Thomas stepped forward and said, “Hi, my name’s Nugget. Want to go play bandits with us?”
His own children looked at him expectantly.
No one had ever asked them to play before. Usually, they would approach other children, ask them to play, and the children’s mothers would take them by the hand and usher them away with warnings about “those people.”
Polly smiled at him. “It’s all right. They’ll stay in the backyard.” Then she looked over at a little girl standing next to Nugget. “Right, Caitlin?”
“Yes, Polly.” The little girl sighed and looked like she was about to whisper something to Nugget.
“And no ropes!”
The two girls sighed like Polly had accurately predicted what they had up their sleeves.
“Or water,” Maddie said. “Or you’ll all be doing the washing, then sent to bed with only bread and milk for supper.”
“And do leave the rocks on the ground,” Gertie said, looking pointedly at a boy who appeared to be of similar age to Rory.
Gertie smiled at him as the children went outside. “And now that we’ve probably frightened you with all the warnings we’ve given the children about their behavior, let me assure you that—”
“Don’t bother,” Polly said, pointing at her soiled dress. “His children can take it. I have this courtesy of a flour fight over rapped knuckles and tattle tales.”
“More laundry,” Maddie sighed. “I do so hate laundry.”
“Maddie is our housekeeper,” Frank said, patting the other woman on the arm. “And she does a fine job. However, I was thinking that Alan Forester’s widow is in need of extra money, and she’s been taking in washing. I’m sure she’d be happy for the work.”
“What use would I be, then?” Maddie glared at him. “I’ll be thanking you to not be giving my work to someone else to do. You just tell those rascals to stop getting so dirty, and we’ll be fine. I’ll get tea for everyone.”
Maddie stomped off, and the other adults laughed.
“Please, sit.” Gertie gestured to an empty chair. “I apologize for the craziness, but you should know right off that chaos is something Polly does very well with. The children truly aren’t bad, but they are lively. If yours are as lively as ours, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Her words were meant in solidarity, that he could tell by her smile. And for the first time in a long time, Mitch didn’t feel quite so alone.
“Which is why I offered my services,” Polly said, looking at him with a ferocity that surprised him. “Your children are quite a handful, but I know how to handle them.”
Mitch let out a long sigh. Polly’s offer was probably the best he was going to get, considering he’d gone through every nanny agency in Denver. He’d have to send to New York, or perhaps even London, to find someone willing to take on his children. No one wanted to take care of the Taylor Terrors.
But that wasn’t the only reason people didn’t want to work for him.
