“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you would’ve heard me coming.”
“No. No, it’s fine. I was thinking about something and...never mind.” She looked up at him with glistening, green eyes and cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”
He wasn’t so sure anymore. The scare he’d given her wasn’t enough to make anyone teary-eyed. Whatever she’d been thinking about was none of his business, but when he saw a person’s mood shift so drastically—from laughing and bubbly when they were surrounded by people, to down and withdrawn when they thought they were alone—it pinched at him. Sandy had done that when she was sick. She used to put on a happy face for everyone, not wanting to cause worry, but then he’d catch her alone, depressed and concerned about what would happen to her children after she was gone. He knew pain. He’d masked it plenty of times himself.
“Is everything all right?” He hadn’t meant to ask. Asking meant getting involved and trying to help—in short it meant opening a can of worms. He’d learned that lesson with Nanny Number Two. He shifted his stance and practically held his breath.
“I’m completely fine. This is nothing,” she said, wiping the corner of one eye. “I got some bad news, but it’s taken care of and everything is fine.” She smiled, but there was something cloudy and faraway in her eyes.
“Okay.” He scratched the back of his neck. No can of worms.
“Okay.” She hooked her thumbs on the belt loop of her khakis and waited. “You wanted something?”
“Ah, yes. Yes. I’m hoping you can help me out. I saw back there that you work with kids. I have two girls and—”
“You’d like to book a kid safari. Excellent.”
Her face lit up and her smile warmed. She was unassumingly pretty. Just a fact he registered. He was a scientist. He was simply making an observation.
The twins had had one sitter who’d been more concerned with her layers of makeup than with tending to the kids. She didn’t last long, not because she’d quit like the rest, but because he’d let her go. He didn’t want his girls to become makeup obsessed. At least not for as long as he could help it.
“Would after tomorrow work? Noon-ish? If I could get their names...?” She pulled a mini notebook out from her back pocket, but couldn’t seem to find something to write with. “I’m sorry, I had a pencil here somewhere. Oh. I gave it to someone to use.”
Noon-ish? Just when he thought he’d found someone...a reality check. He had a schedule to keep. Ish didn’t cut it in his life. She seemed disorganized, too. Great.
Maybe if he went back and spoke to the concierge, the man could help Dax find someone else. Then again, Dax needed to be at work in the morning. There wasn’t time to waffle or get picky. He really was desperate for help. Not just any help, either. He needed someone who could deal with the twins and, from what he’d seen, this woman had a healthy dose of patience. Ivy and Fern required an endless supply of that.
“I was thinking more like eight. Sharp.”
“In the morning?” She stopped her pencil search.
“Of course, in the morning,” he said. Eight at night didn’t even make sense. “Look, I should have introduced myself first. Then I’ll explain everything. I’m Dax. Dax Calder.” He held out his hand and, after a brief hesitation, she shook it.
“Pippa.”
“Pippa. That’s easy enough to remember. Like that book my daughters used to read. Pippa Longstocking. Or something like that.”
Pippa’s smile flattened and she raised her brows.
“It’s Pippa Harper. If you were referring to the book character with braids sticking out at right angles to her head, that would be Pippi. Not Pippa.”
“Oh. Right.” Dax swiped a hand across the back of his neck. It was the little things that always reminded him that Sandy had been a far better parent than he could ever be.
The girls used to read to him. Not the other way around. And they used to accuse him of not paying attention to the story. Clearly, he hadn’t. He closed his eyes briefly. “Miss Harper, I’m here on business—long-term-ish—and I thought that maybe you would be interested in...” What would she more likely say yes to? Homeschooling them? Babysitting them? Nanny sounded like a career position, and she obviously already had work. “I need help with my two daughters. The nanny I had arranged to come stay with us here in Kenya couldn’t make it over from the US, and so I really have to find—”
“A babysitter. I’m sorry. I’m not a babysitter. Good luck in your search and have a nice day.” The sparkle in her eyes had dimmed and the softness of her features tightened. She turned on her heel and took long, quick strides toward her jeep. She grabbed a bottle of water and a book from the back seat and hurriedly climbed behind the wheel as he approached.
“Wait. Just give me a second. Please. They’re not babies.” They’d be a lot easier to handle if they were. “There wouldn’t be diaper changes or anything like that. The girls are very smart and they don’t bite. Their names are Ivy and Fern.”
“Did you name them after characters in a novel? Or search through a gardening book?” She flashed him a fake, close-lipped smile.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded.
“I get it. If I insulted you, I apologize. It wasn’t intentional.” He looked down the red dirt road that stretched, tired and dry, across the savanna until the tall grasses devoured it. “My wife named them.”
“If you and your wife want time alone, then sign up for the spa treatment package and your kids can enjoy a safari hike with me.”
“She’s dead. Their mother...she died three years ago.”
Something shifted in Pippa’s face. She blinked and rested her hands in her lap.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“It’s just that it wouldn’t be the first time I wasn’t taken seriously, and it has been a long day. I was being a tad defensive. But the truth is, I don’t babysit and I’m not a nanny. I have other things on my schedule and a long drive to get out here. I’m sorry I can’t help. Maybe check with the lodge staff.”
“I have to go to work tomorrow and I can’t leave them alone, nor can I take them with me. I’m begging you to just hear me out.”
“You’re here for work? Not a family holiday?”
“Yes. And I’ll pay well. I need someone to make sure they’re safe and keeping up with their schoolwork while I’m gone.”
“Schoolwork?”
“I travel for months at a time and don’t want to leave them behind, so they’re homeschooled. We do some of the classes virtually and some are sent in.”
“I know how that works. I was schooled the same way. I grew up a couple of hours from here. An orphaned-elephant research and rescue camp. My mother is a wildlife veterinarian. There aren’t traditional schools out here.”
This was good. They were connecting. He was getting her on the same page.
“Great. Then you’d know exactly what to do.”
“But, as I said, Mr. Calder, I don’t babysit.”
“But earlier I saw you handle that group of kids like a pro.”
“I was teaching them about the natural environment here and why it’s so important to protect the land as well as the animals from being destroyed by human ignorance and man’s greedy actions. Not babysitting.”
It did make sense that she’d be involved in environmental awareness, her mother being a vet and all. Mental note: Tell the twins not to mention his contract with Erebus Oil.
“I understand, but I would pay you double whatever you’re making for tours. And it’d be just until I find a nanny replacement.”
“I’m not a nanny, either. I told you, I teach.”
“But isn’t a nanny like a...a hybrid between a teacher and a sitter?”
She gave him a dirty look and started the ignition.