The Nanny

Josh pulled his horse to a stop at the edge of the field, squinting his eyes against the sharp rays of the sun. Green rolling hills spread out as far as he could see, dotted by trees and an occasional rabbit and squirrel.

And here, amid this vast emptiness, he saw Annie.

Annie. Josh pressed his lips together as he watched her hiking up the hill toward a spreading elm tree. She had on the same straw hat he’d seen her in yesterday.

And she was wearing those trousers.

Annoying. Yes, annoying, finding her out here, he decided. Yet he wasn’t clear on just why he felt that way.

It couldn’t possibly be the trousers. Could it?

No. Of course not, he decided, shifting in the saddle. Probably it was because he needed the solitude of his farm this morning. He didn’t want to be reminded of problems. He didn’t want to make decisions at the moment.

Or was it because he’d found her creeping into his thoughts since daybreak? Without trousers?

Josh snorted, then nudged his stallion’s sides and headed toward her.

Good gracious, Annie thought as she saw Josh approach. The man owned hundreds of acres—hundreds. How could he possibly be in the same place as she?

And why had he showed up at this particular moment, on this particular spot when she didn’t have the foggiest idea where his children were? Just how was she going to explain that?

Above all, she couldn’t let him know that she’d failed so terribly at her new job.

Annie waited as he drew nearer, licking her dry lips, trying to work up some moisture—and a reasonable explanation.

She was hot and thirsty. She hadn’t brought any water with her. She’d always lived in towns. She wasn’t used to these wide-open spaces. She hadn’t thought the morning would turn so warm, or that she’d walk so far, or that she’d get lost. But at least she was more comfortable than she would have been if she hadn’t gone back upstairs and changed out of her dress before setting out.

“Good morning.” Annie put on a smile when Josh stopped his horse beside her under the shade of the elm.

He leaned on the saddle horn, gazing down at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “What are you doing way out here?”

“Just taking a walk,” she said with a smile and a breezy air, trying to look as if she weren’t about to melt into her shoe tops.

“You’re a long way from the house.” He looked around. “Where are the children?”

Darn. He’d noticed.

“They’re here,” Annie said, waving her hand, freezing her smile in place.

He raised in the stirrups and looked around once more. “I don’t see them.”

Annie smacked her dry lips. “Well, we’re…we’re playing a game. We’re playing…hide-and-seek.”

“So the children are…hiding?”

“Yes.” Annie stretched her mouth into a wider smile. “And let me tell you, Mr. Ingalls, those children of yours are terrific little hiders.”

“I guess they are,” Josh said, raising his eyebrows, “considering that I just saw them at the pond.”

The pond? The children were at the pond?

Annie’s knees nearly gave out with relief. Thank goodness. She could go get them and head back home. Still, she couldn’t give up the pretense.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them know you gave away their hiding place,” Annie said. “Well, goodbye.”

She’d gone only a few steps when Josh called her name. She turned around.

“The pond is that way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“I know that,” she insisted, trying to keep him from realizing that not only hadn’t she known where his children were, she didn’t know where she was. “I was heading for the house.”

Josh pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t suppose you used to be a scout with the army?”

“No, of course not. Why?”

“The house is the other way.” He pointed again.

“Oh.”

Josh gazed down at her for a moment, as if by looking hard he could make her confess the truth. Annie was tempted. Tempted to confess all, beg for forgiveness and a ride back to the house. Instead, she glared right back up at him.

He swung down from his horse and looped the reins around a low branch.

“You shouldn’t come out here with no water,” he said, untying his canteen.

She licked her lips but shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

“Suit yourself.” Josh leaned his head back, drinking from the canteen. Little rivulets of water trickled down his chin, his throat and under his shirt.

She watched him as long as she could, then gave in. “Well, maybe I’ll have a sip.”

Annie accepted the canteen from Josh. Dry as her throat was, she hesitated. Putting her mouth where Josh’s mouth had been seemed too personal. Almost scandalous. And Annie had never done a scandalous thing in her entire life.

Finally, good sense won out. Annie tipped up the canteen and drank greedily. The water tasted sweet and fresh.

It tasted like Josh, surely.

“You shouldn’t be out on foot like this,” Josh said.

“I had no choice. The children were g—that is, they wanted to play a game.”

He raised an eyebrow again. “Hide-and-seek?”

Annie could have sworn she saw the corner of his lips turn up, but refused to acknowledge the possibility that she was lying.

“Yes, hide-and-seek.”

Annie plopped down in the soft, green grass beneath the tree. A faint breeze stirred the leaves above them and a bird flew over. She gazed out across the fields.