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“It isn’t much,” she said, “just sandwiches and salad.”
“Sounds good to me,” he assured her, eyeing his baby daughter. “What on earth has she got all over her?”
“Squished carrots and beef weiners,” Emily answered offhandedly.
A fat plastic spoon with a short, curved handle lay on one corner of the high chair tray. He was about to ask why Amanda Sue wasn’t using it when she picked it up, banged it loudly against the tray and threw it to the floor. Emily calmly picked it up and carried it to the sink, washing it while Amanda Sue dug into the food on her plate with both hands and crammed it into her mouth.
“Why is she doing that?” Logan asked, disgusted.
“Amanda Sue prefers to feed herself,” Emily explained mildly, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “It’s typical behavior for children her age.”
He walked around the table and took his own place, eyeing his messy daughter warily. As he devoured his meal, he marveled as Emily ate her own dinner and still managed to get some of Amanda Sue’s inside her with the clean spoon, all without relinquishing the utensil to Amanda Sue’s stubborn grasp or getting covered in mush herself. Moreover, her sandwiches were tasty and the salad crisp. Best of all, though, was Emily’s iced tea.
“You’ll have to show me how you make your tea,” he said, sated and content.
She shook her head. “My mama wouldn’t like that. It’s a—”
“Ma-ma!” Amanda exclaimed, suddenly struggling to get out of her chair. “Mammma!”
“Secret,” Emily finished, grimacing sheepishly. “Sorry.” She worked with Amanda Sue for several minutes, offering her first the spoon and then the cup before the cries subsided. Logan sighed. How was he going to raise this little girl without her mother? There was so much he didn’t know or understand.
“Kitchen or baby?” Emily asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Do you want to clean up the kitchen or the baby?”
A no-brainer. He was clearing the table before Emily could get to her feet. She stripped the baby, wiped her face and hands with her filthy shirt and helped her out of the high chair, carrying her away. A few minutes later, Logan had loaded the dishwasher—a relatively new experience for him as he usually left his dishes in the sink for the housekeeper—stowed the leftover salad in the refrigerator and tackled Amanda Sue’s high chair with a roll of paper towels. When he was done, he wandered out into the living room and looked around him in dismay. Resigned, he started moving everything upstairs.
He made the last trip, then wandered down the hall to the bathroom. The door was open, and Emily’s patient murmur, overlaid with sounds of splashing and squeals of glee, was clearly audible. Logan leaned a hip against the frame, his hands sliding into his pants’ pockets and observed.
Emily knelt beside the tub, a towel draped across her upper body, for all the good it had done her; her skirt and sleeves were soaked. A naked Amanda Sue was strapped into an ingenuous plastic seat with suckers on the feet that fixed it to the bottom of the tub. Her wet hair plastered to her head, she was happily smacking the surface of the water with her hands and forearms, splashing walls, floor, herself and Emily.
“She really seems to like the water,” he commented.
“So long as you don’t wash her hair with it,” Emily replied wryly.
Amanda Sue squealed and splashed at the same time, filling her mouth with water. She gagged, spat, decided it was all in fun and laughed. Logan felt a moment of concern there, but followed Emily’s lead and remained calm. The kid really was having a ball, and he couldn’t help laughing at her antics. After a few minutes, Amanda Sue quit splashing long enough to rub her eyes.
“Time to get out, sweetheart,” Emily said, loosening the belt and sliding her hands under Amanda Sue’s arms. Amanda Sue immediately started to buck and kick, screaming in protest. Emily wrapped the towel draped across her shoulder around Amanda Sue’s wet body as she rose. Suddenly she thrust the wriggling child into Logan’s arms and turned back to drain the tub of what little water remained.
“Whoa!” He almost dropped her, as her slippery little body twisted and bucked with surprising strength. “Hold on! Calm down!” A little fist smacked him under the chin, and his teeth clamped down on his tongue. “Ow! You little hellion!” He literally juggled her, trying to get a decent hold on the slick little body. Amanda Sue laughed and tried to throw herself upward. The next instant she was squirming and pushing and straining toward the tub again. “Do you never give up?” he asked in exasperation.
“Here.” Emily thrust a tub toy into Amanda Sue’s hand. It went immediately to her mouth. “The tub is empty,” Emily said, as if Amanda Sue could understand every word. “It’s time for bed.”
Amanda Sue whimpered a moment and put on a great act of clearly feigned heartbreak.
“You little faker,” Logan said. “Where’d you learn this stuff?”
“It comes naturally,” Emily told him, chuckling.
He frowned as she slipped past him and down the hallway. Amanda Sue bit her tub toy and laid her head on his shoulder. Logan turned and followed Emily. “Are you saying she inherited this tendency toward theatrics from me?” he demanded.
Emily tossed him a look over her shoulder. “I’m saying that all children are natural actors. It’s part of learning to communicate.” She turned into Amanda Sue’s bedroom, and Logan followed with the baby.
“Oh.”
Emily took a piece of fabric from the dresser and shook it out, revealing a small, fitted sheet, which she began putting on the mattress in the crib. “Think you could towel-dry her hair?”
“Sure.” How hard could it be, after all? He stood Amanda Sue on the end of her dresser and pulled the towel up over her head. She shoved it off so hard that she nearly toppled onto the floor. “Hey!” he cried, grabbing her at the last instant.
“Try the rocking chair,” Emily said, shaking out blankets and tucking them into the bed.
He sat in the rocker, balanced Amanda Sue on his knee, and pulled the towel up over her head again. She tossed herself backward and slid down between his legs. Catching her with his legs, he trapped her there between them and rubbed the towel over her hair. She fought him with screams and shrugs. Finally he pulled her up into his lap again. She promptly tried to climb him like a tree. Emily extracted a cotton-knit nightgown from a pile of clothing and reached for the child, literally pulling her off Logan’s head.
He smoothed his hair down with both hands, saying, “This kid must be part mountain goat.”
Emily sent him a loaded glance. “Maybe she inherited that tendency, too.”
“Just for the record,” he snapped, “her mo—uh, Donna was as crazy about rock climbing as I am. That’s how we met, you know. She was working for the guide, flying parties to climbs by helicopter.”
“No, I didn’t know,” Emily said, pulling the gown’s short sleeves over one of Amanda Sue’s flailing arms. “Why should I? It was before my time.”
“Oh. That’s right, but just before.” Odd that he’d just come back from a month in the Rockies with Donna as his climbing partner when he’d hired Emily. His previous assistant had set up half a dozen interviews for him, and Emily had been the very first. He’d hired her on the spot and never been so glad as now.
Emily quickly diapered Amanda Sue, who was rubbing her eyes again and beginning to lose her fight. Then she removed a tattered teddy bear from the diaper bag and handed it to the child before clipping her pacifier to her shoulder. Amanda Sue made that odd half-laugh, half-sob sound as she hugged the stuffed bear, babbling, “Sur-bay, sur-bay.”
“What’s she saying?” Logan asked.
“I think she’s calling the bear by name.”
“What would that be, Sir Bear, maybe?”
Amanda Sue shook her head violently, answering his question herself. “Sur-bay,” she said, “Sur-bay.” She started kissing it, making loud smacking sounds, then bit its nose.
“Sugar Bear?” Emily suggested.
Amanda Sue kicked and laughed. “Sur-bay!”
Logan shook his head. “How do you do that?” he asked Emily. “How can you understand her?”
Emily shrugged. “Practice,” she said, picking up Amanda Sue and replacing the bear’s nose with her pacifier. “I have several nieces and nephews.”
He hadn’t known that but was suddenly reluctant to admit it. She’d worked for him for two years, after all, and he hardly had any secrets from her, depending on her to help him balance both his business and social schedules—and now his domestic life. He should know more about her.
“Turn on one of those monitors,” Emily said, nodding toward what looked like a pair of plastic walkie-talkies on the dresser. Logan did so. “Now turn off the light, but leave the door open.” He did that, too, while she sat down in the rocking chair with Amanda Sue, bear, and pacifier.
He leaned a hip against the end of the dresser and watched as Emily engaged the baby’s attention by first talking to her, then whispering to her as she rocked gently back and forth. Soon his rambunctious daughter’s eyelids began to droop and she settled into the crook of Emily’s arm. Minutes later, she was lolling peacefully. Rising carefully, Emily carried the sleeping child to her crib and gently tucked her in, being sure to keep the bear next to her. Turning away, she picked up the extra monitor and tiptoed from the room. Logan followed.
When they were several yards away, Emily turned on the monitor and carried it down the stairs, where she placed it near to hand on the coffee table.
“You’d better take that to bed with you,” she instructed, stepping into her shoes. “She’s liable to wake up several times during the night, and you’ll need to reassure her. But don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal under the circumstances. She’ll settle down before long.”
He barely heard what she was saying, his attention completely focused on the fact that Emily was obviously leaving. “Where are you going?”
She sent him a surprised look. “Home, if you must know.”
Sheer panic descended. “You can’t go home! I need you here. Amanda Sue needs you.”
Emily sighed and folded her arms, fixing him with an implacable look. “Listen, I understand that you’re concerned, but you’ll be fine. Just do what I did.”
“B-but what if she cries?”
“Calm her down. Just remember that the key is to stay calm yourself.”
“She could want something, and I wouldn’t know what!” he protested.
“Yes, you will,” Emily assured him. “If she wants a bottle or her bear, she’ll ask for them. You’ll figure out the rest by just paying attention.”
“Emily, I insist that you stay!”
She gave him a look he’d seen before. It clearly said that she could find another job anytime she wanted. Unaccountably, he was hurt. This wasn’t work, this was…personal. And Emily was an employee, not a friend. He bit his lip, feeling extremely foolish.
“You’re right. I’m sure we’ll, uh, manage.”
Emily nodded crisply. “I’ll be in the office early in the morning to take care of a few things I didn’t get done today, for obvious reasons. I took the liberty of calling an agency and setting up a few interviews with prospective nannies, so you’ll want to bring Amanda Sue into the office with you. I thought that was preferable to doing the interviews here, all things considered. But take your time in the morning. I know how hard it is to get a baby changed, fed, dressed, packed and out of the house. First appointment is at ten.”
“Ten,” he echoed numbly, wondering how in blue blazes he was going to get through this.
“I moved the safety seat to your car earlier while you were putting up the crib,” she said. “Just be sure the restraining belt is clipped before you leave. She’ll fight you, of course, but she won’t win unless you let her.”
He nodded, but he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t tell her that the curly headed little moppet upstairs had already won the battle of wills between them a dozen times that day. He’d never been so exasperated as when driving her to and from the ranch. It was like trying to travel with a caged tiger, one smarter than him. He’d groveled all he intended to for one day, however. If Emily was determined to go, well, that was that.
When she moved toward the foyer, he almost let her go without another word, but then he thought of all she’d done for them that day and knew he couldn’t. Gritting his teeth, he hurried after her. “Emily.”
She paused and turned, obviously expecting more entreaties. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to thank you for everything.”
She smiled wearily. “No problem. I realize you were desperate. Glad I could help.”
“I still don’t know what half the stuff you bought is for, but I’m sure I’ll need it,” he told her. “I—I just wish I could handle her as well as you do.”
“You’ll learn,” Emily promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, I just want to go home and soak in a hot tub before I fall into bed.”
Logan suddenly found himself assailed by an unexpected vision that left him struggling for composure: Emily, naked and soaking in a tub of bubbles, her long hair piled loosely on top of her head. He shook himself. What was wrong with him? The Emily he’d always known was buttoned down and bunned, totally efficient, all business. He’d never wondered before what her hair looked like down or if she wore stockings or how she might pile up her hair for a bath.
“By the way,” she said briskly, bringing him back to the moment, “you’d better sleep upstairs until you hire a nanny. Otherwise you’re going to be running up and down all night long, and she’s going to work herself into a real temper by the time you get to her. Just thought I’d better mention that. See you tomorrow.”
She walked out the door and closed it behind her. Logan collapsed against the wall, groaning. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d been looking forward to collapsing into his own bed. No doubt about it, his first day of fatherhood had been a day of hell, and now he was reduced to the position of a guest in his own home, while fantasizing about his personal assistant! He couldn’t help wondering if anything about his life would ever be the same again.
Emily heard the wails the instant she got off the elevator. Turning right, she walked swiftly past the reception/clerical area and down the long hall to the spacious corner office suite belonging to the Executive V.P. of Fortune Tx, Ltd. The wails had subsided, which hopefully bode well for her employer’s developing relationship with his newly found daughter—and Emily’s own day.
She pushed through the glass door into the outer office and stowed her things in the corner cabinet. The boss’s door was open, allowing his irritable voice to be clearly heard. “Amanda Sue, no! Don’t bend… Damn!”
Huffs of protest quickly became screams of outrage. Emily took off the jacket of her navy-blue suit and folded it over the back of her chair. Steeling herself for what she might find inside, she strolled into the inner office.
Logan Fortune sat at his desk in jeans and a rumpled T-shirt, a day-old beard darkening his lower face. He wrestled with the little body in his lap, trying desperately to clean ink-stained fingers with a wad of Baby Wipes from an open container on the desk. Papers, some in shreds, others splattered with indigo ink and still others covered with huge scribblings, were scattered across the blotter. Amanda Sue fought him tooth and nail, kicking, twisting, bucking, screaming. To his credit, Logan tried mightily to stay calm while holding her tiny wrists in one hand and dabbing and swiping at her fingertips with the other.
“Amanda Sue, please. Just let me clean your fingers. Be still just a minute, baby. If I let go you’ll get ink on your pretty face. You don’t want ink on your pretty face, do you? Amanda Sue, for pity’s sake!”
“Rough morning?” Emily asked.
Both Logan and Amanda Sue froze. Logan’s head snapped up. “Emily!” The relief in his voice was both touching and disturbing.
“Mimy!” Amanda Sue cried, struggling upright. Logan quickly took advantage of her momentary calm to finish cleaning her fingers. The pale stains that remained would eventually wear off without transferring noticeable traces to other objects. Quickly, Emily moved across the room and around the desk.
“Did she just say my name?”
“Believe me, it’s not the first time,” he confirmed. The instant he let go of the child’s wrists, she reached for Emily, who hoisted her into her arms, heartstrings singing. The baby was dressed only in a red T-shirt, lopsided diaper and pink socks.
“At first I thought she was asking for her you-know-who,” Logan said. “Then I realized she was asking for you.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I guess I don’t do things as well as you do. I don’t rock as well. I don’t do breakfast as well. I sure don’t diaper as well.” He sighed and laid his head back against his chair. “We’ve been up since 4:00 a.m.”
“And in all that time you didn’t get a chance to shave—”
“Or shower,” he finished for her. “Or eat or brush my teeth or anything else except cover my butt with the first thing that came to hand.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “At least we have that much in common, my daughter and I.”
Emily laughed. She couldn’t help it. Amanda Sue, meanwhile, was bending herself into a pretzel trying to reach the papers on the desk.
“Someone’s been drawing pictures,” Emily said, dipping down so Amanda Sue could snag one. The child immediately crumpled one corner of the paper in her fist and carried it to her mouth. “Don’t eat it, sweetheart. Let Emily see it.” She gently pulled the paper from the baby’s hand and shook it out. It contained nothing but wiggly, curving lines and one small rip. It was, nevertheless, a treasure. She handed it to Logan, while speaking to Amanda Sue. “Did you draw a picture for Daddy? How sweet. Daddy’s first picture from Amanda Sue.”
Logan looked at the scribblings and chuckled. “I had no idea she even knew what to do when I pulled out the paper and pens. I was just desperate to keep her happy for a little while. But she sat right down and got busy. She even holds the pen pretty well, considering her fingers are about an inch and a half long.”
Emily smiled, wondering if he knew that he was beginning to sound like a proud papa. “You should tuck that away somewhere for safekeeping,” she advised. He continued to stare at the scribbles a moment longer, then opened a drawer and dropped the paper inside. When he looked up, she knew he wasn’t even going to mention the “picture” again.
“I brought as many of her things as I could grab. Would you mind dressing her? She puts up a terrific fight when I try.”
Emily nodded. “Why don’t you run home and change? If you hurry you can be back before the first nanny applicant arrives.”
He didn’t argue, just pushed back his chair and got up. Emily hid a smile when she saw that he’d put on his athletic shoes without socks and hadn’t even tied the laces. “I won’t be long,” he said, heading for the door.
“Oh, by the way,” she called, following him. He paused, but it was almost as if he was afraid she’d changed her mind about watching the baby. The poor guy had really jumped in over his head this time, but she felt sure he’d keep his lungs inflated long enough to learn to swim. “Bring the playpen with you—unless you have a better idea how to corral this one from time to time.”
“Playpen,” he repeated. “Right.”
“And some crayons,” Emily suggested. “I bought a small box yesterday. She’ll break them all in short order, but they don’t stain.”
“Playpen and crayons.”
