The Nanny

His nostrils flared. “I don’t need a nanny who will not see to it that—”

“You’re right, you don’t need me! I suggest you send for Reverend Simon, because you don’t need a nanny for those children, Mr. Ingalls. You need a miracle!”

Josh’s mouth hung open for a few seconds, then snapped shut. Heat arced from him, coiling deeply inside Annie. He leaned forward. She did the same. Her breathing stopped. Her breasts ached to brush his wide chest. The expression in his eyes deepened, and a peculiar longing covered Annie like a hot, woolen blanket.

She froze. Good gracious, was he going to kiss her?

Good gracious, did she want him to?

Caught in the web they’d somehow spun, they stood like that for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, heat bouncing back and forth between them.

Josh came to his senses first. He turned away suddenly. Annie gulped and backed up a few steps, trying to will her heart to stop its hammering.

“Perhaps…” Josh said, his back to her. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Perhaps I didn’t explain things clearly, Miss Martin. About the children. About how I want things done.”

He walked to the bookcase, searched up and down, then pulled a volume from the shelf. “This should clarify things.”

Annie took the book, grateful for something to focus on besides him and the beating of her heart. She read the cover aloud. “How to Raise a Productive Child by Dr. Solomon Matthews. A book on child rearing?”

“My…wife…sent for it.” Josh glanced out the window, as if that somehow gave him strength. He pulled in a big breath, pushing ahead. “The finest minds in the world have laid down exact instructions on how children should be raised. All their wisdom has been carefully committed to this volume.”

Annie opened the book and flipped through the pages, scanning several.

She frowned up at him. “You want your children to march about the house? While I keep time by clapping my hands?” It took all her willpower not to add, “Have you lost your mind?”

“What I want, Miss Martin, is order,” he told her. “I want discipline. I want calm and quiet in my home.”

“But—”

“That’s what I want. That’s what I’ll have,” Josh said. “Or I’ll find myself another nanny.”

He didn’t wait for her answer, just gave her a curt nod and left the room.

Annie watched his big back disappear out the door, heat and energy swirling in his wake.

Order and discipline? The children weren’t the only ones in the Ingalls household who needed it.

Chapter Five

By the time Annie returned to the cookhouse, the children were gone, and Mrs. Royce, the cook, was busy cleaning up the mess they’d left.

“I’m truly sorry about this,” Annie said, motioning to the table.

The white-haired woman shrugged, as if she’d seen worse. “Not to worry.”

Annie found a broom and swept the floor beneath the table while Mrs. Royce wiped everything down. Annie felt the cook’s helpers staring at her from across the room. Surely they considered her a failure at her new job already; really, she couldn’t blame them.

“Do the children eat all their meals in here?” she asked.

“That they do,” Mrs. Royce said wearily.

“Have they always? I mean, before…?”

“Before their mother died, do you mean? Of course.” Mrs. Royce shook her head. “That’s the way it’s done, don’t you see?”

“And that was all right with Mr. Ingalls? Even after his wife died?”

“Not my place to ask,” Mrs. Royce told her.

Josh didn’t want to eat with his children? How odd.

“The children went upstairs,” Mrs. Royce said, saving Annie the embarrassment of having to ask where her charges were. She smiled her thanks and took the back stairway to the second floor.

A number of bedrooms opened off the wide, central hallway. The main staircase stood in the middle, and double doors opened at each end of the hall to large balconies on the front and rear of the house. Light spilled into the hallway from a room at the end.

Stepping into the doorway, Annie saw the three Ingalls children dressed in white nightshirts. Ginny and Cassie sat together on one bed, and Drew bounced on his knees on the other.

Three formidable enemies? The thought skittered through Annie’s mind. Or three little means to get the money she needed?

Annie took a breath. No. Neither. They were just children. Children whom she wasn’t going to let get the best of her. Certainly not on her very first day as their nanny.

“Ready for bed, I see,” Annie said briskly, coming inside their room.

The children quieted, sharing glances with each other.

Annie tucked them under their covers. They’d gotten themselves ready for bed, but hadn’t washed. Dirty little feet and hands disappeared under the quilts.

She sighed to herself. Something to work on tomorrow.

“I’ll let your father know you’re in bed,” she said. “He’ll be in shortly.”

“We didn’t do nothing wrong,” Drew declared.

“He’s coming to tell you good-night, of course,” Annie said.

Cassie’s eyes rounded as she sprang up. “Papa’s coming? He is?”

“No, he’s not.” Ginny pushed her sister down on the pillow and threw Annie a contemptuous look. “He’s not coming, Cassie. Go to sleep.”

A little ache throbbed in Annie’s chest as Ginny pulled the covers over her sister. Josh didn’t see his children at bedtime, or at meals?

Suddenly, she wanted to take all three children in her arms, hold them tightly against her. She wanted to march downstairs and demand to know why Josh paid so little attention to his children.

But it wasn’t any of her business. Not really.

Not if she wanted to keep her job.

Ginny gathered Cassie close. Drew stuck out his tongue at Annie and rolled away.