The Nanny

Except for Annie. She glanced behind her, fearful she’d tracked dirt on the floor.

At the end of a long hallway, Mrs. Flanders motioned for her to stop, stuck her head inside double doors, then turned to Annie once more.

“You may go in,” she said, her lips curling downward in a disapproving scowl. “Don’t touch anything.”

Anger sparked in Annie as the woman disappeared down the hall. Certainly, her clothing was soiled. But that was because she’d been working in the garden, doing the job she was hired to do. And, yes, she was a plain and simple young woman. But that made her no less a good person. Regardless of how the housekeeper looked down on her.

Regardless of what the gossips said.

“Miss Martin?” Josh Ingalls’s voice boomed from inside the room.

Annie’s shoulders straightened. The man could fire her if he chose. But she wouldn’t run away like a whipped dog. She’d have the satisfaction of speaking her mind. And maybe, just maybe, she’d come away with a better job.

Annie stepped into the room. Dark carpets covered the floor. Leather-bound books filled one wall. A moose head with antlers hung above the fireplace. A gigantic desk dominated the center of the room. Josh Ingalls sat behind it.

“Come in,” he said impatiently, shuffling papers on the desk.

He’d taken off his hat, and Annie saw that his hair was thick and dark, the same color as the children’s. For once, it seemed, the rumors were true. Josh Ingalls was a handsome man, with a strong jaw, straight nose and clear brown eyes. He looked even bigger seated behind his desk than he had atop his horse.

His white shirt was open at the collar, revealing a slice of deeply tanned skin—like his face—and black, curling chest hair. Even after being in the fields all morning, he looked clean and crisp.

Annie glanced down at her fingernails, then curled her hands behind her.

He made a spinning motion with his hand, urging her closer to his desk as he opened drawers, searching for something.

“When I ask a question, Miss Martin, I expect an answer. A complete answer, not simply what you choose to tell me,” Josh said. “So I’ll ask one last time. What went on out there with those children?”

“Your children, do you mean?” she asked, and stopped in front of his desk.

His gaze came up and he ceased rifling through the drawers. “Yes. My…children.”

“I don’t know what type of nanny you’re used to, Mr. Ingalls, but when I see a situation that needs addressing, I handle it. That’s what happened with your children,” Annie told him. “If I overstepped my boundaries, I apologize. But I see no need for you to concern yourself further. Surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

He blinked at her, taken aback by what she’d said. Apparently, Josh Ingalls wasn’t used to being spoken to in that manner. Annie held her breath.

He shrugged and started going through the drawers again. “That’s for damn sure,” he muttered. “I’ve searched the settlement, written to agencies all the way to the East Coast, everything. Why should it be such a monumental task to get and keep a nanny?”

“Perhaps you’re not looking in the right place,” Annie offered. “Or for the right sort of person.”

He glared at her now, clearly not pleased at her criticism. “For your information, Miss Martin, the women I hire as nannies are quite competent.”

“Including the last one?”

“Of course.”

“The one I saw running from the house two days ago, screaming and tearing at her hair?”

Josh looked away. “She—she took the job for the wrong reason.”

“My point exactly,” Annie said. “I’m aware of what those reasons are, Mr. Ingalls. You’re wealthy. The Ingalls name is to be envied. You, personally, are the talk of the settlement. Women find you attractive and are captivated by the size of your…”

Josh’s brows rose. He leaned forward slightly. “The size of my…?”

“House,” Annie told him.

A tense, awkward moment passed while they simply looked at each other. A strange warmth pooled inside Annie. Josh seemed to look at her—and really see her—for the first time. Then he swallowed hard and yanked open the bottom drawer.

Annie rushed ahead. “Anyway, unlike all the other young women in the settlement, Mr. Ingalls, I’m only interested in the welfare of your children. That’s why I’d make a perfect nanny.”

Josh pulled a ledger from the drawer. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she declared, standing straighter.

“You’ve had experience as a nanny?”

To tell him the truth would end all chances of her getting the job—and the increase in her pay.

“Certainly,” Annie said. Surely having two younger sisters and tending an endless number of nieces, nephews and cousins qualified her to look after small children—even the unruly Ingalls children.

He sank further into his chair, studying her at his leisure. Annie felt her skin heat and tried desperately to think of something else to say.

“Tell me about yourself, Miss Martin,” Josh said at long last. “You and your family.”

A cold chill passed through Annie. Her and her family. Why hadn’t she thought ahead enough to realize he’d want this information? Why had she even come in here and asked for the job?

Then it occurred to Annie that if he was asking, that meant he didn’t already know. But how could that be? How could he not have heard about her and her family? Was it possible the gossip hadn’t spread to the Ingalls farm?

Apparently, it hadn’t.

“My mother was widowed several years ago,” Annie said, choosing her words carefully. “We moved here a few weeks ago to live with my cousin. My cousin is Angus Martin. He owns the farm that adjoins your property just down the road. Have…have you heard of my family, Mr. Ingalls?”

Josh simply waved his hand, anxious, it seemed, to get on to other matters. No, apparently, he didn’t know about her family—or at least, what was being said about them. Annie heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

“I know Angus Martin. Good man,” Josh said, as if that were enough. He considered her again. “And you have no interest here but that of the children?”

“Just your children,” Annie said. The children and the salary that came with them.

“All right, you’re the new nanny.”

Annie’s eyes widened. Had he just declared her the children’s nanny? Had she heard him correctly?

“You start immediately. Go find Mrs. Flanders and tell her I said so.” Josh flipped the ledger open, sparing her a glance. “That’s all.”

She’d come here thinking she was about to be fired, and somehow she’d ended up the nanny—to the worst-behaved children in the settlement.

“If I could ask, Mr. Ingalls, about the wages?”

He scribbled in his ledger, then flipped it around for her to see. “I trust this will be adequate compensation, Miss Martin?”