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“So you come from a family of do-gooders, but you’re going for an education in accounting and a good-paying job?”
“That’s right. My family says I’m the practical one. Actually, I have a mind for figures and I like to make money. Money means very little to the rest of my family.”
“Well, we have something in common there,” he remarked dryly. “I like to make money, too. But I don’t think your mind for figures will be a lot of help with a baby.” He held out the picture. “Your parents look nice,” he said.
“They’re very nice,” she said, taking the picture and replacing it in her purse. “I know you don’t think much of me, but I come from a stable, hardworking family and I have good references. I think I can learn to take care of your baby.”
Wyatt was intrigued by her. This soft-spoken, freckle-faced girl was getting to him. He knew why, though. Short of the tenuous bond he’d had with his older brother, Hank, he’d never known any kind of closeness in his family, and she was reminding him of his past in a way few people ever had. Clamping his lips together, he studied her, and she gazed back at him unwaveringly.
“Sit down and we’ll talk,” he said.
She sat down, crossing her ankles and looking as prim as before. She also looked as if she would run if he said boo, yet she had stood up to him with her question about his experience as a daddy. She’d nailed him on that one, all right. The first day it had taken him hours to learn to get a diaper on Megan the right way.
“The job means living out here on the ranch. It means living in this house with Megan and me,” he reminded her.
She nodded. “Is there any reason that should worry me?”
“For one thing, there’s the isolation.”
“I don’t mind that at all.”
“For someone young, that’s unusual. These are your prime years for finding a husband. Most women don’t like isolation.”
She smiled at him, her dimple showing and that twinkle returning to her eyes. “Getting a husband is not on my list of goals. I’ll have your niece and I won’t mind the isolation at all.”
“You don’t want to marry?” he asked.
“If it works out someday, but if it doesn’t, that’s fine, too. I have a busy life.”
He didn’t believe her for a minute, but he moved on to another subject. “I have a woman who is both cook and a housekeeper, and she lives on the ranch, so she’ll be close at hand, but if you’re nanny, you’ll live here in the house.”
She nodded as if it meant nothing to her.
“Since this will be your home during the week, I need to know if there’s a boyfriend.”
“No, there’s no boyfriend. I’ve been working to put myself through school and I’m busy and I don’t date.”
“Being busy doesn’t have a whole lot to do with dating.”
She shrugged and he saw the dimple again. “All right. I’ve never found anyone who really interested me. I don’t date.”
“When did you graduate from high school?” he asked in a polite and legal way to discover her age.
She smiled. “I’m twenty-five. I graduated seven years ago.”
Megan stirred in his arms, waking and beginning to cry.
“How’s my girl?” Wyatt asked, patting her back as he stood. “Would you excuse me for a minute while I change her and get her bottle?”
“Certainly.”
He left and Grace watched him go, a mixture of feelings seething inside her. Her best friend from college, Virginia Udall, had warned her at length about Wyatt, telling her of his dark past. How in high school he’d had to quit school and leave town in disgrace. She heard tales of his wildness, crazy pranks he’d done when he was growing up, the girls he’d seduced, drunken brawls in local bars. Virginia had an older sister who’d gone to high school with Wyatt. Grace had seen her high-school yearbook and Wyatt’s freshman picture. She remembered staring at a picture of a boy who, in spite of wild hair that fell over his shoulders, was still the best-looking boy in the entire high school.
Of all the things she’d heard about Wyatt, the one that she could agree with completely was that he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. When he’d opened the door, she’d been frozen for a minute, looking at thickly lashed, coffee-colored bedroom eyes, prominent cheekbones that gave him a slightly rugged look, a straight nose, a sensual mouth and firm jawline. The long locks were gone, but his black hair was still wavy and unruly, curling onto his forehead. The man was gorgeous. Small wonder he had a reputation with the ladies.
If was difficult to relate the stories she’d heard with the caring uncle he seemed to be. She looked at the animal heads looming over her, the rifle above the mantel, the heavy leather furniture and the bear rugs. The room was masculine, lacking any feminine touch, yet she’d been told that part of the time, his brother and his wife had lived here. It was difficult to imagine a baby crawling over the bear rugs, and she wondered if the room had been that way since Wyatt’s infancy. It was even more difficult to imagine Wyatt as an infant.
Was she walking into a wolf’s den, as her friend had warned her? If she took this job, she would have to live here, alone with Wyatt Sawyer and a baby. Good looks couldn’t mask the rogue he had been. For a moment, as she had approached the house, she’d been tempted to turn around and drive back to town. Then she’d considered the rumor in Stallion Pass that Wyatt couldn’t find a nanny and was offering a huge salary. She had squared her shoulders and tried to ignore her qualms.
Wyatt strode back into the room, the baby tucked into the crook of his arm as he held a bottle for her. He sat in the rocker again, adjusting the baby and her bottle. Her tiny fingers moved over the bottle as she sucked. As he watched his niece, the loving expression on his face made Grace question the stories she had heard. The love he felt for the baby was obvious.
“Why don’t you tell me a little about the job?” she suggested.
He raised his head and looked at her as if he’d forgotten her presence. Grace wondered if he still planned to send her packing. She knew he’d intended to earlier.
“You’d live here in this house and take care of Megan. I’d be around at night, but gone most of the day. The person I hire will be caring for my niece daily, so it’s important that I have someone I can trust, someone who can give her tender, loving care and is competent with a baby.”
“I think I can do that.”
“It’ll be an isolated life in a time when you might rather be with friends or out on a date,” he said warningly.
She smiled at him. “Surely some time off comes with the job.”
“Yes, weekends. I’ll take care of Megan then. Frankly, Miss Talmadge, you’re young. I had someone who is more mature in mind, perhaps a grandmother with lots of experience handling babies. Someone who has no interest in dating. And that’s another thing—if you do date someone, I don’t want him out here at the ranch. No boyfriends allowed. I feel I need—”
Suddenly Megan shoved the bottle away and began crying lustily. Wyatt tried to feed her again and then he put her on his shoulder, patting her back and talking to her. When she screamed all the louder, he stood, jiggling her, talking to her and patting her as he walked back and forth.
“I don’t know if she senses something has happened or if she’s always been this way, but sometimes she’s fussy. The pediatrician said she’s in good health, though, maybe a bit colicky, or maybe she’s just unhappy with the world.”
Grace set down her purse and stood, crossing to him. “Let me hold her awhile and see if a change in people helps.” Grace reached up to take the baby from him. “You might get her more formula,” she suggested.
“I don’t think she’ll take more,” he said, looking at the almost empty bottle. “She doesn’t usually finish her bottles.”
Grace smiled at him and took Megan from him, settling the baby against her shoulder, walking around and patting her back as Wyatt had done. She walked to a window and turned so Megan could see outside if she cared to look, and then she moved around the room. Megan continued to scream, and Grace held her closer and began singing softly to her. In minutes Megan grew quiet and Grace continued to walk and pat her.
Wyatt returned with a half-filled bottle, watching Grace as she moved around the room with his niece. Megan snuggled against Grace, who walked to the rocker and gently eased herself down. “Give me the bottle and I’ll see if she wants more.”
Grace shifted Megan in her arms and held the bottle for her. To Wyatt’s surprise, Megan took it and began to suck while Grace rocked and sang to her.
With his hands on his hips, Wyatt studied the two of them. “For a woman who knows nothing about babies, you’re doing a pretty good job,” he said, still standing while he watched her with the baby. “Sometimes I can’t get her quiet for an hour. Nothing suits her. I’ve taken her outside, walked her, sung to her, rocked her.”
“Maybe she wants me for her nanny,” Grace said sweetly, smiling at him, and he had to laugh. Grace’s pulse jumped because his smile was seductive, irresistible, putting slight creases in his cheeks.
“I need to see some references before we go any further.”
“I have them in my purse,” she replied.
“Don’t stop with Megan!” Wyatt said hastily, grateful for the baby’s silence and apparent contentment.
“Tell me more about the job,” Grace suggested.
“I’ll be in and out. I have an office here and will have people out here sometimes when I’m working. Other times I’ll be in Stallion Pass or in San Antonio. I’ll have some trips to make. I don’t know whether you know anything about my background or not…” He paused and looked at her questioningly.
“Very little,” she replied.
“A brief family history so you’ll know why I have Megan. My mother died when I was a child. My father raised me and my two brothers. I’m the youngest. Jake, my oldest brother, was killed when he was in high school. Last year my father died.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said.
Wyatt stiffened. “We weren’t close,” he said. “Megan is my other brother’s child. Hank and his wife, Olivia, were killed recently when their small plane crashed. They left wills appointing me as Megan’s guardian.”
“I’m glad she has you,” Grace said, and he shot her a curious glance.
“Did you grow up in this part of the country?” he asked. No one who’d known him in the past would be pleased that Megan had become Wyatt’s charge. Wyatt knew only too well the reputation he’d left behind.
“Yes. I’ve lived in San Antonio all my life.”
“And you have a friend in Stallion Pass who’s told you about me?”
“Yes, I do. Virginia Udall.”
“I don’t remember her.” Wyatt wondered to what lengths Grace Talmadge would go to get the job. “You must really want this job, Miss Talmadge,” he said, unable to keep the sharp cynicism out of his voice. “Most people in Stallion Pass aren’t happy that I’m Megan’s guardian. My deceased sister-in-law’s family is threatening legal proceedings to take Megan from me.”
Grace raised her head, and her green gaze met his with that unwavering look that held his attention totally. “I can easily see you love your niece and have her best interests at heart.”
“Well, you’re in a minority. You also have no idea how I deal with her. Maybe I take her to bars with me. You don’t know what I do.”
Grace smiled. “You would never take this baby into a bar, and I bet you put her first in your life. Am I right?”
The woman was challenging him in her own quiet way. He realized his first judgment about her immaturity was inaccurate—something that rarely happened where women were concerned.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t take her into a bar and I already love her as if she were my own. For a novice, you’re doing all right,” he observed.
Grace glanced at Megan who had snuggled down on her shoulder, her brown eyes wide open. “She’s a beautiful baby.”
“Yes, she is,” he said, a soft note entering his voice. “Want me to take her?”
“I’m fine and she’s happy. Go ahead and sit down.”
Wyatt was amused. Grace Talmadge sounded as if this was her house and he was the one being interviewed. As he sat, he arched a brow and tilted his head. “If you were to take this job and move in, since we’re both young, rumors will start. Are you prepared for that?”
She smiled at him as if he were a child with a ridiculous problem. “I have no worries about rumors. My grandparents and my parents are in Bolivia, a little far away to hear rumors. My sisters and my friends know me, and I know myself. I don’t care about anyone else or any silly rumors.”
“So you hadn’t heard wild rumors about me before you came out here?”
“I have heard some things. If you had lived up to them, I would have been gone by now, but you have been nothing but a gentleman.”
Wyatt had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “You tempt me to throw the gentlemanly facade to the winds, but I have Megan to think about, so the order of the day is to keep this impersonal and professional. One more reason I was in hopes of finding someone older. She would be more settled. There wouldn’t be this temptation to flirt with you.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that at all. Men like you aren’t tempted to flirt with women like me,” she assured him.
“If I’d kept this interview professional, I’d skim right past that, but somehow we slid out of professional a little while ago. Men like me?”
“You’re experienced and sophisticated. I imagine you like women who share your interests. I’m bookish, straitlaced and a lot of things that don’t attract sophisticated men. Flirting will be no problem, not for me and not for you. Now, how soon did you want your nanny to start?”
“As soon as possible,” he said, once again amused. In her own mild way, Grace was still taking charge, and she had neatly answered his question and taken them back into an impersonal interview.
“I want someone for the long term, not a continual turnover of nannies that will cause more upheaval in Megan’s life,” he said.
“You have no guarantees of a long-term employee with anyone you hire. An older woman could have something happen where she would have to quit just as easily as a younger one. I’m dependable. I told you, I brought references. My college grades are a 4.0 and my attendance in college and at work was and is excellent,” Grace replied, patting Megan’s back as she rocked steadily.
“Do you mind if I contact your current employer?”
“He doesn’t know I’m applying for this, but it would be fine for you to call him. Along with my references, I’ll give you his telephone number.”
“Maybe we better get down to details,” he said, leaning back and stretching out his long legs. “You would be on duty Monday through Friday, all the time, although when I’m here, I’ll spend my evenings with Megan. I want a live-in nanny who will be a stand-in for the mother Megan lost. You’ll live out here. Weekends are your own. No boyfriends on the ranch, no wild parties.”
Her eyes sparkled with the last. “Am I to understand, then, that there will be no wild parties here?”
Again, she amused him. “I meant you, Miss Talmadge, but no, there won’t be any, not by me or by my nanny.”
“I find that satisfactory.”
“You’re trusting.”
“Sometimes when you expect the best of people, they rise to the occasion. And if you don’t, I’ll be gone,” she reminded him, still rocking Megan, who had stopped fussing and fallen quiet.
“Very well. I have some other interviews. Let me have your references.” He crossed to her and Grace gazed up at him, her pulse skittering. “I’ll take Megan now,” he said.
Grace handed him the baby, and as she did, her hands brushed his and tingles raced through her. “She’s sweet.”
“You have her vote,” he said lightly. As he took Megan, her face screwed up and she began to cry again. “Hey, baby. Megan, what’s the matter?” He gave Grace a frustrated glance. “I don’t know what makes her fussy.”
“Maybe she’s cutting teeth.”
“She wasn’t doing this with you.” He walked around, patting Megan and talking to her. Grace, meanwhile, crossed the room and removed some papers from her purse.
“Here are my references,” she said, placing them on the table. “Thank you for the interview. I can let myself out.”
“Miss Talmadge.”
As she turned to see what he wanted, Megan’s wails became louder. “Just a minute. Shh, Megan,” he crooned. Her screams increased, her small face becoming red.
Grace set down her purse and crossed the room to take the baby from him. He shot her a look, but then let her have Megan, who continued to scream for a moment, then quieted and snuggled against Grace.
“Maybe she does want you for her nanny,” he remarked dryly. He had his hands on his hips, and more locks of his black hair had fallen onto his forehead. “You never asked about the salary.”
“If you want me for a nanny and I want the job, I suppose we can work something agreeable out.”
