Nanny in Hiding

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“I was thinking along different lines,” Bryce said, not looking at Tara. Once again he smiled. “Amy, what would you think about coming to work for me as a live-in nanny to my girls?”

Chapter Three

Amy’s mouth dropped open. “Wh-what did you say?”

“I said, how would you like to work for me as a live-in nanny to my girls?”

As Amy digested this startling development, she realized this offer might be the answer to her prayers. Cole would never look for her in Morgan Creek because he wasn’t even aware of its existence or the fact she had any connection to it. Working for Bryce would mean she would be living on this compound, behind high walls with a sophisticated security system, to all intents and purposes hidden from view.

She and Calista would be safe.

“Bryce, being a nanny isn’t like teaching school,” Tara said.

Ignoring Tara’s remark, Bryce kept his attention trained on Amy. “It seems to me we could help each other out. I need someone young and energetic and experienced with children to supervise my girls. And you need a job and a way to care for your daughter at the same time. This would solve both our problems. I’ll make it worth your while and pay you as much as you’d make teaching.” He named a generous amount.

Tara had no intention of being ignored. “Have you any experience with girls the ages of Stella and Susan?” she said.

Her voice was perfectly pleasant and reasonable, but Amy knew the woman was not pleased. “Actually,” Amy answered just as pleasantly, “I have.” She turned to Bryce again. “I’m certified to teach kindergarten through second grade, and even though most of my experience is with kindergarten, I did substitute teach in both first and second grades my first year out of college.”

He nodded, obviously pleased. “Stella just completed second grade, and Susan will begin second grade this year.”

“I figured as much,” Amy said.

“So what do you say? Interested in the job?”

“Oh, Amy, it would be great to have you here!” Lorna said. “Please say yes.”

Although Amy was so thrilled about the job offer she wanted to get up and dance around the room, she managed to reply calmly and in a businesslike manner. “I appreciate your confidence in me, and I accept your offer. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Great,” Bryce said.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” Lorna said.

Amy stole another glance at Tara. Although she still maintained an even expression, her eyes as they met Amy’s were as cold and hard as Bryce’s were warm and welcoming.

Amy suddenly had that feeling her mother used to describe as “someone walking over my grave.” She knew as certainly as she knew her own name that she had made an enemy in Tara Kenyon, who obviously viewed her as some kind of threat. Why this should be so, Amy had no idea. After all, Tara was beautiful and rich and from the same social class as Bryce, whereas she, Amy, was not beautiful or rich and certainly not even close to the same class of people as the Hathaways.

She wanted to say, Chill, honey, I’m just the hired help. Your claim on Bryce Hathaway is perfectly safe. He would no more be interested in me than one of the maids.

Sure, Bryce liked her. She could see he liked her. But his liking her had to do with his children and his need for someone to take care of them and not to anything else. Amy was enough of a realist to know that. Anyway, even if Bryce did like her in another way, it wouldn’t make any difference. Amy wasn’t interested in romance. Not yet. Maybe never. And even if she were, how could she get involved with any man under false pretenses? The fact was, she was living a lie, and a lie was no basis upon which to form a serious relationship.

For the rest of the meal, Tara managed to dominate Bryce’s attention, and Amy knew it was no fluke that she did it talking about people, events and subjects Amy knew nothing about and couldn’t possibly comment on. Amy was amused. Tara thought she was effectively cutting Amy out, but she was actually doing her a favor, because now Amy could try to relax and just enjoy her dinner.

Even so, she was relieved when dinner was finally over and she could escape the table. Grinning, Lorna linked her arm with Amy’s as they headed toward the morning room and the children.

“I’m so tickled you’re going to be staying on,” she said. “It’ll be such fun to have you here.”

“I’m pleased, too. It was really nice of your brother to offer me the job.”

“Hey, you’re doing him a favor. He’s had a devil of a time keeping nannies.”

“Why is that? Do you know?”

“This isn’t exactly an exciting place to live, Amy. I mean, the closest movie theater is a good forty-five-minute drive. And shopping? Forget it. You’ve got to go into Austin or San Antonio to find a decent place to shop. And as for eating out, if you don’t belong to the country club, you’re pretty much limited to barbecue or Tex-Mex.”

Amy shrugged. “Those things aren’t very important to me.”

“I agree,” Lorna said. “Of course, I get to travel quite a bit for my job. Being a nanny six days a week really ties you down, plus it isn’t easy. Are you real sure you want to do this? I mean, we did kind of pressure you.”

Amy wasn’t completely sure of anything except the need to hide from Cole, but she smiled and said, “I’m sure.”

Lorna grinned. “This is going to be like old times.”

Amy nodded, but she knew nothing would be like old times, not for her, at least. Her life had changed irrevocably the day she married Cole Jordan, and she would spend the rest of it looking over her shoulder.

Bryce kissed his grandmother good-night, then walked over to where his mother stood talking with Claudia. She turned to him and smiled. “Leaving?”

“Yeah, I think I’d better. The girls are getting wild, which means they’re overtired.”

“So I noticed,” his mother said dryly.

Bryce’s eyes briefly met Claudia’s. In hers he saw understanding and empathy. All the Hathaway siblings understood that their mother would never be the storybook, doting grandmother. Kathleen Bryce Hathaway loved her grandchildren, but she had no patience for behavior that was less than perfect.

And in Bryce’s experience, no child was perfectly behaved. Children were children, not miniature adults. But there was no point in expressing the sentiment, because in this one way, his mother and his grandmother were alike. Each held strong views on the subject, and neither would ever change.

“Before you leave, dear,” his mother continued, “I’d like a private word with you.”

“That’s my cue to disappear,” Claudia said, grinning. She lifted her arms. “Gimme a hug, big brother.”

Once Claudia was gone, his mother said, “Bryce, I’ve never known you to be impulsive—at least not since you became an adult.”

Bryce instantly realized what was coming.

“So do you think it’s wise to have hired Lorna’s friend to supervise the girls without knowing anything about her?”

“Well, I do know she’s Lorna’s friend, and Lorna seems to think highly of her.”

“Yes, but from what I gather, Lorna only knew her for a brief period of time many years ago. We know nothing about her people or her morals or anything else really.” Kathleen frowned. “It worries me. Don’t you think you should at least check her credentials?”

“I intend to.” Bryce had already decided he would ask Amy for her references and give them a call.

“Good. In our position it pays to be careful, you know.”

“It pays any parent to be careful.”

“Well, of course, but people like us have to be doubly careful.”

Bryce bit back what he really wanted to say. Instead he just kissed his mother good-night and went to round up his daughters. As they walked home, he thought about his mother’s concerns. His mother had her faults—the priority she placed on position and wealth being uppermost among them—but at bottom she was a sensible woman who didn’t worry needlessly. And when she did express concern, her reasoning was usually sound.

Why had he been so impulsive tonight? His mother was right. It wasn’t like him. Normally he thought things through and investigated all aspects of a situation before he acted. Yet in the case of someone to care for his children—a job that was crucially important—he had acted on instinct, never mind the fact he had belatedly decided it might be wise to check Amy’s references.

Why?

Later, as he supervised the girls in their bedtime rituals, he still hadn’t come up with an answer to his impulsive act. It was only as he climbed into bed and turned out the bedside lamp that the answer came to him, and it startled him.

Something about Amy Gordon reminded him of Michelle. Bryce punched up his pillow and turned on his side.

Amy didn’t look like Michelle. Michelle had been blond with gray-blue eyes. She’d also been taller than Amy, an all around bigger woman. Yet there was something, some quality the two women shared, although Bryce couldn’t exactly put his finger on it.

He thought about his impulsive act for a long while before finally deciding it didn’t matter why he’d acted the way he had. For some reason he liked Amy and he instinctively trusted her. No, he didn’t know a lot about her background, but he was a good judge of people, and he would lay odds Amy Gordon was a good person and her references would all check out.

So he wasn’t sorry he’d offered her the job. In fact, he had a strong feeling she would be the best nanny his girls had ever had.

“So tell me about your brother,” Amy said. She and Lorna were sitting on the porch—Lorna in the swing, Amy in a nearby rocking chair. Each sipped from a glass of wine. The heat of the day had finally succumbed to nightfall and the strengthening wind that promised rain before morning. It was so peaceful sitting there in the moonlight, listening to crickets chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves of the big magnolia tree that dominated the front yard. Amy could feel all the stress and worry of the past couple of days falling from her shoulders.

“Bryce is one of the good guys,” Lorna said. “Of course, I am prejudiced since he’s my brother, but even so, it’s true. I admire him and respect him more than just about anyone in the world.”

Amy couldn’t help the stab of envy. She had always wanted brothers and sisters. “What happened to his wife?”

“Ovarian cancer. She died three years ago.”

“That’s tough.”

“Yes, it was. We were all pretty broken up about it. Michelle, well, she was special. We all loved her. Even Mother.”