A Nanny Under the Mistletoe: A Nanny Under the Mistletoe / Single Father, Surprise Prince!

“That’s good,” he said.

“It is, but she needs stitches, because of where she cut herself. Movement in her palm will make healing take a lot longer unless he closes the cut.”

His mouth thinned to a grim line. “Something like this never crossed my mind. How did you handle stuff while she was with you, after Charity and Ben left?”

Libby met his troubled gaze. “I had power of attorney. I was authorized to approve routine check-ups, visits to the doctor’s office and whatever came up. When they died everything changed. You’re her legal guardian and I couldn’t sign any of the forms. So we’ve been waiting—”

Her voice cracked and the weakness shamed her, making her more self-conscious.

“Libby, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Your secretary said her orders were that you not be disturbed. She’s very good at her job.”

“Still—” He ran his fingers through his hair. “This should have been an exception.”

He looked sincere, she thought. And in all fairness this was a situation she hadn’t foreseen. The fact that she’d had a lot on her mind, including him, was no justification for her not to consider what would happen in a medical emergency. But it also made a certain amount of sense that his employees who worked so closely with him knew him better than anyone. Knew his priorities. If a child who needed medical treatment was an exception-worthy event, the woman would have put Libby through to him. She hadn’t. And that didn’t speak highly of his attitudes toward parenting.

Morgan stretched and opened her eyes. “Hi, Uncle Jess.”

“Hey, Morgan. How are you?”

“Not good.” She glanced at her hand. “I got a boo-boo.”

“I heard. Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” she said. “Want to see it?”

His hesitation wasn’t all that obvious, but Libby saw. “Sure.” He lifted the small surgical drape covering the little hand and winced, turning a little pale. “It looks like it hurts a lot.”

“If I hold really still it’s okay.” Morgan’s eyes filled with tears. “But I’ve been holding still for a long time. I wanna go home.”

“Can’t blame you,” he said. “I’ll go do what I have to do to make that happen.”

Libby watched him disappear and aloneness surrounded her again. Wasn’t she the perverse one? Jess was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. She didn’t trust him with this child, but Libby was desperately drawn to his strength and support.

Not more than a few minutes later Jess returned. “Okay. Everything is taken care of. The doctor will be here in a few minutes to fix you up and pretty soon you can go home.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jess.”

The small, sad voice brought a pained look to his face. “Morgan, I’m very sorry you had to wait so long.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said. “I didn’t get the message and it’s my responsibility to let the doctor know he can do what’s necessary to make you better. I was in a meeting.”

“Was it important?” Morgan asked.

“Yes. It means lots of people will have jobs.”

“That’s pretty important,” the little girl agreed.

Jess shook his head. “My secretary didn’t give me the message.”

“Why not?”

“Because I told her not to.”

“You made a rule?”

“I guess you could say that.” He reached out with one finger and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “I just want you to know that I’m very sorry you had to hang around here so long.”

Libby waited for him to say that nothing like this would ever happen again. He didn’t. She knew Jess took a promise very seriously and the flip side of that was not to make a vow you couldn’t keep. But this was one that he should move heaven and earth to make and not break.

“So,” he said, looking down at Morgan. “Other than this trip to the emergency room, how was your day?”

“Okay.” The small smile she’d given him disappeared. “But I’m scared about gettin’ stitches.”

“I can see where you would be,” he said seriously. “But I’ve had them before.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Is it gonna hurt?”

“The doctor is going to give you some medicine that will make you not feel anything.” He held up his finger. “But here’s the thing. The medicine comes through a needle, a really small one and it will feel like a little pinch. Then it might burn for a couple of seconds. After that, you won’t feel anything.”

“Promise?”

He made the cross over his heart and held up two fingers. “Swear.”

He’d told her the truth, Libby realized. It would have been easy to lie and tell her it wouldn’t hurt, but he hadn’t done that. Which made his omission about promising to be accessible to Morgan all the more significant. If he couldn’t make that promise, Libby would see to it that nothing like this ever happened again. She’d make sure that if Morgan needed anything she wouldn’t have to wait. Maybe it was time to do something she’d been considering for a while—consult a lawyer about her alternatives for obtaining legal custody of Morgan.

He’d cited his sense of duty, but in her opinion love should trump obligation.

She didn’t ever want this little girl to wait for what she needed until Jess could find time to be available. She didn’t ever want this precious child to feel like an unwanted obligation. Libby knew from firsthand experience how painful growing up that way could be.

Twenty-four hours later things were back to normal, whatever that was. Morgan was in the Nooks and Nannies after-school program, where she was being watched over and pampered so Libby had felt confident in resuming her teaching duties. A lot of parents counted on child care and the kids could be thrown off by a substitute. If Morgan needed her, she was right down the hall, as opposed to Jess, who had meetings and left orders not to be disturbed for any reason.

Still, after he’d arrived at the emergency room and expedited the little girl’s treatment, he’d been great, making her laugh, distracting her while the doctor stitched her hand. Then he’d taken them home, with a detour to a toy store where he bought what he’d called her brave-little-girl reward. Libby had experienced the E.R. with and without him and definitely preferred him there. Which was a bummer since he couldn’t be counted on to show up when needed.

Her classroom door opened and Sophia Green walked in. “Hi, Lib.”

Her stomach clenched. “Is Morgan okay?”

“Fine. I just checked on her.” The preschool director sighed. “Are you going to the bad place every time you see me now?”

“No.” And that was a big fat lie.

“Give it time.” She sat in the chair beside the desk. “Morgan says her hand doesn’t hurt. I think that very impressive bandage is helping in that regard.”

“Good. She does like her Band-Aids.”