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The question didn’t surprise Mike, but he wasn’t entirely ready to answer it, either. He looked toward the preschooler running around the living room, pretending to search for the teddy bear that lay on the floor. She was sweet, but he knew that he was in over his head.
“I’m not planning on it,” he said quietly. “But while she’s with me, I’m going to need a hand.”
Malory didn’t answer, and when he glanced back at her, he found her gaze fixed on his face, her expression conflicted.
“You don’t like that,” he concluded.
“I’m not judging,” she said with a shake of her head. “I think you’re making the best decision you can.”
Mike shrugged. He wished he were equally convinced. He refused to let the girl go into the child welfare system, but he did hope that a family—far away from Katy’s own dogged beginnings—might want to adopt her.
“Well, I can pay what you’ve asked,” he said, his tone turning professional. “Katy seems to really like you. Is there anything else I should know?” He fixed her with an appraising stare.
“No, you have all the pertinent information.”
He paused for a moment, sorting through his impressions of her. She had more to her story, he could tell, but she came up clean in background check. Except for running a stop sign a few years ago, that was, but he could probably forgive her if that was the worst of her vices.
“When can you start?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“Great. You’re hired.”
A smile split her face, sparkling through her brown eyes. She was prettier than he’d been hoping for in a nanny. Too pretty to make this entirely comfortable. With a nod, he poured a cup of the promised coffee and slid it to her across the counter.
“Here you go,” he said. “Your room will be upstairs next to Katy’s bedroom. I hope that will be okay.”
“It’ll be great. Thank you very much, Sheriff—”
“Call me Mike.”
“Mike.” She shook his hand, and her soft fingers lingered in his grip. Then she pulled free and picked up her mug. “If it’s okay, I’ll get moved in today.”
* * *
SUNLIGHT SPILLED THROUGH the windowpane, pooling on the hardwood floor. Malory looked around the little bedroom. A handmade quilt covered a single bed. It looked like a rag quilt, composed of different fabrics with no apparent pattern, but it was cozy nonetheless. A whitewashed wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, a wicker chair angled next to it with a pile of fresh towels on the seat. A full-length mirror hung on one wall, and a twisted rag rug lay next to the bed, completing the homey decor.
The bedroom was on the second floor of the rambling old house. This property was large and rural, so the neighbors were out of sight. It was peaceful, and she paused to listen to a bird twittering happily outside the window that overlooked the spacious backyard. Two large trees provided shade, and an overrun flower garden lined one side of a low white picket fence.
The whole scene was almost impossibly perfect, Malory thought. It reminded her of the house she used to dream about when she was a little girl, sitting alone in the small apartment after school while she waited for her mother to finish work. She used to imagine the perfect home—bright, airy, cozy, well loved. In winter, she’d picture the fireplace, roaring with heat. In the summer, she’d daydream about the backyard, dappled in sunlight.
Malory unzipped her suitcase, pulling her mind back to the present. She had a job to do.
“Nanny Mal?”
She turned to see Katy in the doorway, her worn bear clutched in her grasp and a sieve planted on her head like a little army helmet.
“Hi, sweetie.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the solemn expression. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“My room is right next to yours,” Malory said. “And if you ever need me in the night, you can come right in, okay?”
Katy nodded, then crept closer to the suitcase and peered inside. Malory pulled out some clothes and brought them to the wardrobe.
“What’s this?” Katy asked, holding up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Malory winced. Leave it to a toddler to zero in on the most personal, well-hidden items first.
“Those are just medicine I take to keep me healthy.”
“Oh.”
“And what’s this?” Katy reached into the suitcase and pulled out an envelope.
“That’s—” Malory sighed and took the envelope from Katy’s fingers. “Never mind. It’s boring grown-up stuff. Here—” Malory pulled a coloring book out of her things and passed it to her little charge. “I brought you something. Do you want to look at the pictures?”
Katy happily sat down to peruse the coloring book, and Malory opened the envelope and peeked inside at the sonogram. It was from her first ultrasound a few months earlier and it showed something the shape of a bean. But that little bean was her baby. She put a hand over her belly, feeling the soft tickle of her baby’s movement. At a little over four months along, she’d started feeling it only recently.
She’d expected to look a lot more pregnant than she already did, but she could still hide her condition quite successfully with the right clothes. She appeared plumper than usual, and her waist was definitely bigger, but she didn’t have that revealing baby bump yet. When was that supposed to happen? She had no idea. Regardless, her new boss hadn’t noticed her pregnancy, and she was relieved for that small mercy. She needed this job, and she knew what would happen if she announced her condition at the outset—the same thing that happened to other pregnant nannies. She’d end up jobless. While she knew that she’d have to go back to live with her mother when the baby was due, she was hoping to put that off as long as possible.
“Would you like some crayons?” Malory scooped up a box of them from the bottom of her suitcase and passed them to Katy, who beamed with delight.
“The sun is green,” Katy announced, pulling out a crayon and setting to work with large, jerking scribbles. “Green, green, green.”
“Not yellow?” Malory asked.
“No. Green.”
Malory chuckled. Well, why not? Why not have a green sun? Why couldn’t Katy make her own rules?
This pregnancy hadn’t been part of the plan. Malory was one of those people who planned everything. She was cautious. She was responsible. If she colored a sun, it was yellow. And then her boyfriend, Steve, told her that he didn’t love her after all and took off with her best friend. Well, ex–best friend, if she was going to get technical. Two weeks later, Malory missed her period. And with everything that happened after she let Steve know... Well, she didn’t want to dwell on it. Regardless, that left the financial responsibilities squarely on her own shoulders.
A tap on the door pulled her attention away from unpacking. Mike stood in the doorway. He’d changed out of his jeans and T-shirt and now stood in full uniform. A dark green button-up shirt tugged ever so slightly around his muscled biceps, paired with khaki dress pants. His heavy belt held a variety of tools, including a gun. He crossed his arms over his chest, dark eyes moving over the room, then coming back to rest on her.
“I hope I’m not in the way,” he said, and she shook her head.
“Not in the least. I was just getting unpacked. Katy is coloring.”
An odd look came over his face. “You’re good, you know.”
“I know.” She laughed. “She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure we’ll get along very well. In fact—” Malory looked at her watch “—for her age, it’s just about nap time.”
“Nap time?” He frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“That would explain how frazzled you look.” She laughed softly.
“I’m new at this,” he said.
“That isn’t a crime,” she reassured him. “When we get a good routine going, everything will fall into place. You’ll see.”
She wanted to make him feel better, but she had to wonder if there would be other surprises coming. Katy might have any number of issues to deal with because of her rocky beginnings, and they’d just have to deal with them as they arose. Regardless, a well-rested child would help any situation.
He nodded, an amused smile quirking his lips. “I’m counting on that.”
She reached over and brushed a curl off Katy’s forehead. “Katy, come with me. It’s time to lie down on your bed.”
“Why?”
“We’ll do this every day. We’ll have a rest, and then we can play again in a little while.”
“Nanny Mal?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Will you go away?”
Malory smiled sadly. This little girl had had too many goodbyes in her short life. “No, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Mommy went away.”
Malory held out a hand. “I know. But I’ll be here. I promise.”
Katy didn’t look convinced, but she consented to be led to Mike’s office which had been made into her bedroom, Mike trailing behind them. She crawled up onto the bed that was squeezed in next to the desk, popping a thumb into her mouth as she lay down on the pillow. Malory eased a blanket over the tiny form, and before she could stand, Katy put out one small hand and pressed it against Malory’s belly. Malory quickly moved Katy’s hand away and rose to her feet, hoping that Mike hadn’t noticed.
“After you rest, I have a fun game for us to play together,” Malory said quickly. “But a rest first, okay?”
“But I don’t want you to go.” Katy’s face crumpled and tears filled her eyes. “Don’t go...”
Malory sighed and sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ll stay for a few minutes, but only if you keep your eyes closed.”
Katy clamped a small hand over Malory’s fingers and obediently closed her eyes. This child was desperate for some stability, and for a little while, Malory could provide it. But Katy needed more than a nanny. She needed a permanent parent. Glancing back at Mike in the doorway, she gave him a reassuring smile.
Mike stood rigidly, his face a granite mask of professional reserve. He might as well have been at a crime scene for all the emotion he allowed to slip through.
“I thought I’d get a bit of work done at the station, if you’ve got everything under control,” he said. “Of course, I’ll start paying you today—”
“We’ll be fine.”
He gave a curt nod, then disappeared, his footsteps echoing along the hallway and down the stairs.
Malory turned her gaze back to Katy, whose eyes were open again, staring up at her with uncertainty.
“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “Close your eyes. I’m here.”
A couple of minutes later, the front door opened and shut, leaving them in quiet. Her new boss interested her, and she couldn’t help but wonder about the confident cop. He was handsome and intriguing—and while she tried to push that fact from her mind, she couldn’t quite banish it.
Rein it in, Mal, she chided herself silently, putting a hand over the flutter in her middle. You have someone else to worry about.
Chapter Two (#ulink_656e27db-ef99-5f31-bd19-cba603cade1d)
Hope, Montana, was a small ranching community consisting of a few schools, a well-stocked grocery store and a Main Street that sported murals on the sides of buildings, celebrating the Old West history. A mayor with a flair for the dramatic a few years back had dubbed the place “the Town of a Thousand Murals.” There weren’t exactly a thousand, but Main Street certainly did give a history lesson. The Hope Sheriff’s Department was tucked between the local bank and a community hall, the side of which displayed an old-fashioned harvest with horse-drawn combines. The police station was a squat brick building, the office space cramped and out-of-date, and the parking lot only large enough to house the town’s cruisers.
A warm summer breeze pushed across the plains, carrying the scent of ripening wheat from the surrounding fields. Hot prairie sunshine beat down on the dusty streets, and as Mike pulled open the police-station door, he waved to an older woman walking her dog along the sidewalk.
“Hi there,” she called.
“Hi, Mrs. Hyatt,” he called back, then headed in. He knew almost everyone in this town. He’d been raised in Hope and now served on the police force. That meant that most of the people he protected remembered him as a gangly kid, and he doubted that he’d ever completely grown up in their eyes. He’d matured into a muscular man, over six feet tall, but for the older ladies around town, he’d never stop being “that Cruise boy.”
Mike blinked as his eyes adjusted from the afternoon sunlight. He pulled off his hat and held it under one arm as he headed inside.
“I thought you had the day off, Mike,” Corporal Tuck Leavitt commented, looking up from his desk. He had a phone pinched between his cheek and his shoulder, the hold music playing loud enough for Mike to hear it clearly. Tuck had a big brush of a blond mustache and gentle, soulful eyes.
“I do.” Mike tossed his hat onto his desk and sank into the creaky office chair.
“Then what are you doing here?” Tuck took a sip of coffee.
“Getting away. The nanny started today.”
“Oh, yeah?” Tuck put up a finger and turned his attention to the phone as someone picked up. “Hi, this is Corporal Leavitt from the Hope Sheriff’s Department...”
Mike turned away as Tuck went about verifying the alibi for a suspect. Like any other law-enforcement officer, Mike procrastinated his paperwork until either it was due to be submitted or he needed to avoid feeling something. As an escape, work always seemed better than a bar. At least he could get something productive done, and nothing was quite so numbing as filing a report in triplicate.
He turned on his computer and flipped through some forms in his inbox. But his mind kept going back to Malory. She’d been there only a few hours, but she already had Katy relaxed and happy, the chaos of the past couple of days evaporating in her calm cheerfulness. There was something about that scene—so domestic and sweet. He couldn’t quite forget the solemn look on Katy’s face, her hands clutching Malory’s fingers as she lay on her bed.
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Tuck hung up the phone and tossed a folder onto Mike’s desk. “Alibi is rock solid.”
“Figured.” Mike shuffled the folder into his pile of waiting paperwork, then turned back to his computer.
“So, you hired a nanny,” Tuck said with a grin. “And how is Katherine liking her?”
“She’s Katy now. Malory shortened it, and Katy seemed to like it better.”
“Huh. Sounds like it’s going well, then.”
Mike glanced up from the computer. “Can’t complain.”
“So what’s she like?”
“Too pretty,” Mike replied with a shrug. “I was hoping for a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and Mary Poppins.”
“A spoonful of sugar with masculine shoulders?” Tuck laughed.
“Too much to ask?” he said, grinning. “Instead, I got—” He stopped, not wanting to finish his thought—he’d only sound like a lout. She really was too pretty for comfort.
“So what are you doing here at the station?” Tuck asked.
“I don’t know. I feel like a third wheel back at the house. In a matter of days, my calm, relaxing home has turned into...” He shook his head, searching for the word.
“Family space? Toys everywhere, snacks, crumbs, noise.”
