The Nanny's Secret Child

“Other than giving your full attention to Abby, you won’t have any other duties. The housekeeper, Mrs. Fontenot, comes on Friday. I’d like you to be here early enough to fix breakfast and take Abby to school in the morning and pick her up each day. I’ll be home in time to handle supper, but I’d like you to be available at all times while she’s at school just in case.”

“That’s fine. I have plenty to keep me occupied. I tutor older students online, and I’m moving to Paris in a few months so there’s lots of paperwork involved.”

“France. Sounds interesting. I meant to ask where you live. Is it a long commute to Dover?”

“Not too bad. I live in Brandon, east of Jackson. It takes about forty-five minutes.”

He nodded. “I’d prefer you were closer. But if for some reason you need to stay late or be here early, there’s a mother-in-law suite down the hall from Abby’s room. There’s also a small furnished apartment above the garage you can use.”

“I’ll remember that. But I’m an early riser, so the commute isn’t a problem.”

Montgomery rubbed his jaw, then rested his hands on his hips. “I think that covers everything. I’ll get Abby, and you two can get acquainted.”

Julie kept the smile on her face until Montgomery disappeared into the hallway, then lowered her head into her hands. What had she gotten into? Her fight-or-flight instinct was raging. Heart pounding. Veins burning. Stomach in knots. Her common sense screamed run! But her heart ached to stay and face her fear once and for all. She had to know. Once she had that reassurance to hold on to, she could face the future.

* * *

Gil Montgomery strode down the hallway, puzzling over the new nanny. She was not what he’d expected. At first glance he’d thought she was a teenager in her jeans, loose sweater and big scarf. All that had been missing was a cell phone clutched in her hand. But a closer look revealed a woman near his age, with a rosy complexion and a smile bright enough to light up a room, though he’d seen a hint of anxiety in her big brown eyes. The wind had lifted her hair, sending wavy strands across her cheek, and wrapped him in a faint scent of spring.

Spring was a long way off. Glancing down at his hand, he lightly rubbed his thumb over his palm. Had he imagined that jolt to his system when he’d taken her hand? Judging from her expression, he suspected she’d felt it, too. Odd. It had sparked like static, the way it had when he and his brother used to slide their feet across the carpet then zap each other. Except that they hadn’t crossed any carpet.

Of course, her looks were immaterial. Her credentials were what mattered, and they looked exemplary. He was being overprotective. Hiring a nanny had him on edge. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a younger and very attractive nanny for Abby. He’d feel better with a more matronly woman, someone who could devote all her attention to his daughter. Unfortunately he didn’t have a choice. Until his mother returned, he’d have to rely on this woman to care for his only child.

At the top of the stairs he stopped at Abby’s door. He wanted to pray, to ask the Lord to help his little girl, but he’d prayed for three years and nothing had changed. That wasn’t God’s fault. That was all on him.

He tapped lightly on the door, then peeked in. Abby was curled up on her bed looking at a book, her ever-present gray-and-pink polka-dot backpack at her side. His heart swelled, pressing against his rib cage. Every part of her was perfect, from her sweet little face with her big brown eyes to the sprinkle of freckles across her button nose.

He finally had her back, and from now on he’d be part of her life. A knot formed in the center of his chest. He’d missed so many of her milestones. It had cost him nearly every penny he possessed to gain custody of her and bring her back home to Dover. He would have spent twice that to have her with him again.

But to Abby, he was a stranger. He was the father who never came to visit, who never called or sent gifts. He had, of course, but interference from his ex-wife and her meddling sister had driven a wedge between him and his daughter. Now she was home, but she was withdrawn and sad and he had no idea how to help her.

He approached the bed, putting a big smile on his face. “Hey, pumpkin.”

She looked over at him, her expression devoid of any emotion. “I’m not a pumpkin.”

She’d started to smile under his mother’s care, but now she’d have to adjust to the nanny. So much change so quickly. “I know you’re not. Your grandpa used to call my sisters pumpkin. It was his special name for his little girls. I want to have a special name for you. Like ladybug or cricket.”

Abby closed her book. “I’m not a bug either.”

The words were spoken with little feeling, sending a shard of pain through his heart. He wanted to fill the void left by her mother’s death, but he had no idea how to do that. He came from a large family, two brothers and two sisters, so he should know what to do, but he’d missed too much of his daughter’s life. She wasn’t a baby now. She was a young girl, almost nine, with a mind of her own, and she wasn’t happy to be here with him.

Discouraged, Gil nodded. “Right, well, the nanny is here. You ready to meet her?”

Abby shrugged and got to her feet, picking up her backpack. When she drew near, he reached out and touched the top of her head, stroking the soft brown hair. She stepped out of his reach, rebuffing his touch and plunging a hot blade into his heart.

Closing his eyes, he offered up a quick prayer. Maybe this time the Lord would hear and take action because he was out of options. Please, Lord, help my little girl find joy again. I don’t know what to do for her.

His thoughts circled back to the new nanny as he followed his daughter downstairs. She was young, pretty and capable. He’d seen a spark in her eyes that intrigued him. Anticipation? As a teacher and a nanny, she obviously liked kids. Maybe having a younger woman in her life would be a good thing for Abby. He wasn’t so sure having her in his home would be good for him. He didn’t like the way he was drawn to her bright smile and sparkling eyes. Or the inappropriate questions that burst into his mind. Like was she involved with anyone?

At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and touched Abby’s shoulder. “Remember. Be polite.” She glared up at him, screwed up her mouth and walked on.

Maybe the nanny could do what he couldn’t—make Abby happy again.

* * *

Julie paced the kitchen, waiting for father and child to return, struggling to keep her professional mask in place against the questions and doubts. Her gaze drifted to the bay window in the breakfast room and the wooden deck overlooking the large backyard, where a swing hung from a branch of an old tree. She bit her bottom lip in delight. She could imagine her little charge swinging once the weather broke. But she wouldn’t be here to see that. Her assignment was only for a week. Five days in which to learn the answers to her questions.

Mr. Montgomery’s deep voice sounded from the hall. Julie braced, her entire body vibrating. Would he see? Would he know? No time for further speculation. They were here. She smiled, her heart in her throat. The moment had arrived, and she had no idea what to expect.

Montgomery rested one hand on his daughter’s shoulder as he stood behind her. “Miss Bishop, this is my daughter, Abby.”

She barely heard him. Her eyes were on her new charge. She was a beautiful child. Long dark brown hair fell below her shoulders, held back with clips on each side, revealing little pink ears and soft rosy cheeks. Big brown eyes stared back at her. “Hello, Abby.”

“Hello.”

The reply was uttered with little enthusiasm. Not surprising. Accepting a new caregiver took a period of adjustment. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be much time for that. For the next few days she’d merely be a highly paid babysitter. But it would be worth it.

Julie moved forward and extended her hand. “I’m...” She cleared her throat. “I’m happy to meet you.” The little girl clutched the faded backpack, staring up at her with a dull gaze. Julie glanced at the father. He looked worried and a bit sad. She remembered what he’d said about the recent upheavals in her life. “Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk a moment.”

Once they were settled, Julie rested her elbows on the table and peered over at Abby, examining each inch of her. From her heart-shaped face to the sprinkle of freckles across her upturned nose, she was an adorable little girl. Her pretty brown eyes were framed with long thick lashes, but as lovely as her eyes were, they lacked the spark of excitement and curiosity Julie liked to see in a child her age. Abby’s demeanor read sad and uninvolved. Julie’s heart lurched, forcing her to corral her emotions and focus on her assignment. “I’m looking forward to spending time together. Is there something special you like to do?”

Abby shrugged, fingering her backpack.

Julie glanced at the father. Pain and confusion drew his brows downward and caused a muscle to flex at the corner of his mouth. He had the look of a parent who had no idea how to help the child he loved. Something inside Julie softened. She directed her attention to Abby again. “I have some things I like to do with my students, so we’ll try them out and see which ones you like, all right?”

“I’m not a student.”

“That’s true. But I’m a teacher most of the time, so I think of all my children that way.”

She frowned. “You don’t look like a nanny.”

“Abby.” Montgomery gently reprimanded his daughter.

She focused her attention on Abby. “Nannies come in all shapes and sizes. Just like children do. And you look like a very nice young lady.” Julie had been angling for a smile, but all she received was a blink. But in that moment Julie saw emotions she recognized and understood. Abby was feeling disconnected and confused. “Abby is usually short for Abigail. Is that your real name?” The child shrugged again. “My name is Julianna Bishop, but everyone calls me Julie.”

Abby stared back at her, little mouth pressed into a frown. “Mine is Abigail Sarah Montgomery. My mommy said Sarah means ‘princess.’”

Encouraged, Julie continued. “Little girls are always princesses to their mommies...and daddies.” An unexpected stab of pain penetrated her barriers. Like sand washing away with a wave, her foundation began to erode. Blood drained from her face. A surge of light-headedness blurred her vision. She rubbed her forehead, willing herself to calm down. She glanced across the table at the little girl and felt her stomach heave.

Mr. Montgomery’s cell rang again, and she grabbed the opportunity to excuse herself. “Abby, could you point me to the bathroom?”

The child gestured to the hall and Julie tried to walk, not run, from the room. Her fiercely pounding heart sent her blood roaring in her ears. She stepped into the small guest bath, shut the door and leaned against it.

She couldn’t cry. Not now. She wouldn’t be able to explain it. Mr. Montgomery might change his mind and ask her to leave. Or worse, he’d demand an explanation. He’d think she was unfit to care for his daughter.

Trapped in a whirlwind of colliding emotions, she fought to find her footing. Fear. Excitement. Joy. Anger. A million reactions she hadn’t anticipated.

Please, please, Lord, help me. Moving to the sink, she ran cold water over her hands and pressed them to her cheeks to ease the scalding heat. Inhaling a few deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down. Slowly her stomach settled. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw a woman facing her worst nightmare. Not the image she wanted to project. She wanted to appear friendly and nurturing. Capable and caring. The way she seemed at school or when working as a nanny. Except this wasn’t a normal assignment. Not by a long shot.