The Nanny's Secret Child Page 3

  The only obstacle to her dream move was her gnawing fear. Stories about adopted children who’d been mistreated, neglected or even given up again never failed to fuel a torrent of doubt and fear in her heart. What if her baby was with a family that didn’t truly love her? If Julie knew her baby was happy, in a loving environment, then she could leave the country secure in the knowledge that it had all been worth it.

  Julie closed her eyes, thanking the Lord for allowing her this chance. Five days. Enough time to allay her fears, to get to know her child, to gain peace and perspective before closing the door on this part of her life forever. And this was a blessing from God. It had to be.

  She smiled at the little girl. “Okay, I’m ready to see your house. Where do you want to start?”

  Begrudgingly, Abby scooted out of her chair, nodding toward the counter. “This is the kitchen.”

  She chuckled. “Really?” Abby didn’t laugh with her, but she did move her mouth to one side. Julie followed the little girl through the downstairs rooms, pointing out each area with little fanfare. She noticed the whole house was in need of love and attention. She had a feeling the people who lived here might have that same need. She shook off the worrisome thought. She needed to think with her head, not her heart. Abby had been in Dover only a short while, and her long-term well-being wasn’t her concern. Only her day-to-day care.

  Back inside, she followed Abby upstairs.

  “This is my room.”

  Julie took a quick survey of the large space. There was something odd about the decor. The pink paint was an unusual shade, the bedspread clashed with the pillows, and the curtains were more suited for a nursery. Then it hit her. This room was decorated by a man who had no idea what a little girl’s room should look like. It was not the room an eight-year-old girl would dream about. Julie looked for something positive to say. “This is a really nice room. Look at all the sunlight you get.”

  “It’s pink. I hate pink. I like purple. My other room was purple.”

  “It’s not hard to paint walls. I’ll bet if you told your daddy that you’d rather have a purple room, he’d change it for you.”

  Abby tossed her backpack onto the bed, then climbed up beside it, arms crossed over her little chest. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  She sat beside her. “What makes you say that?”

  “He doesn’t want to be my daddy. Aunt Pam said so.”

  Julie’s concern rose. Was this chip on her shoulder a result of grief and being taken from her home, or was there something more behind her attitude? If this were any other assignment, Julie would just go on about her job. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

  “I’m sure your Aunt Pam didn’t mean that. Sometimes when grown-ups are angry at each other, they say things they don’t mean. Your daddy brought you to this nice house and this town so you could be close to your family. Like your grandmother. You like her, don’t you?”

  Abby nodded, eyes glistening.

  “She’ll be back very soon. In the meantime, your daddy has asked me to take very good care of you and play with you and...” to love you. “And I’m a professional at that kind of thing.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “That means I’m very good at taking care of children. I have lots of things we can do that are fun. Like drawing.” Maybe she could get Abby to express her feelings through pictures, a technique that had worked well for Julie in the past. “Let’s go back downstairs and draw until your dad gets back.” Reluctantly, the little girl followed.

  Julie clutched the stair railing as she descended the steps. She and Mr. Montgomery needed to have a talk. She wanted to know what Abby had been through. If she was going to help her child, she needed to know about her past. She needed to know what... She stopped at the bottom, releasing a heavy sigh. What was she doing? She wasn’t here to help Abby. She wasn’t her mother, not really. She was the caregiver for a few days. Nothing more.

  Blood surged in her ears like waves. But how could she ignore that Abby was an unhappy little girl? She was sad and confused and clung to her backpack like a lifeline, which showed the depth of her insecurity. And she was helpless to do anything about it. Abby needed her help. She needed love and attention, and who better to provide that than her mother?

  * * *

  Gil pulled into his designated parking spot and shut off the engine, swallowing around the worry clogging his throat. He’d nearly turned around three times to go back and stay with Abby. He’d been adjusting to the idea of a young attractive nanny until she’d returned to the kitchen looking pale and shaky. She’d regained her equilibrium quickly, but it left him wondering if she was sick, and questioning his decision to leave his child with a stranger.

  What had surprised him was the surge of protectiveness toward the woman that had overtaken him. He’d wanted to pull her close and comfort her. He’d never felt that way before. He was obviously more stressed over this situation than he’d thought. Julie Bishop was a professional caregiver. And it was only for an hour. He couldn’t be with Abby every second. His mom had warned him about being overprotective. Maybe he was, but he had a lot to make up for. Because of his ignorance, he’d sent his child to live in a world of chaos. He had to undo the damage somehow. He just didn’t know how.

  Inside the large building that housed Montgomery Electrical Contractors, the business his family owned, he headed for the office on the second floor. His older brother Linc was behind the desk, and the sight unleashed a wave of grief that stopped him in his tracks. Their father should be running the company, but he died suddenly last fall, leaving the family reeling. Gil had barely begun to process the loss when his ex-wife had died, and he’d been caught up in a custody tornado that hadn’t ended until Christmas.

  Linc looked up from the desk, a smile on his face. “I take it the new nanny worked out or you wouldn’t have left Abby with her.”

  “She wasn’t what I was expecting.” Gil glanced down at his hand, unable to shake the memory of holding hers. Soft, warm and strong. He’d sensed a tension about her, but he’d also been aware of her energy. There was something stable and trustworthy about Miss Bishop. And at the same time she was fresh and appealing. “She’s young.” He wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much.

  “How young?”

  “Few years younger than me, I guess.”

  Linc chuckled. “Hate to tell you, bro, but that isn’t so young. I’m marrying a woman about that age.”

  Gil managed a smile. Linc had met a wonderful woman with a young son and they were planning their wedding. “I thought she’d be more grandmotherly. But she’s pretty and warm and friendly.” And she had beautiful dark hair that floated around her face in soft waves, brown eyes that held a sparkle and skin that glowed.

  “How pretty?”

  Too late he realized his mistake. Ever since Linc had fallen in love, he was eager to have others join the party. “She’s qualified. That’s all that matters. I only hope she and Abby can get along until Mom gets back. This is another big change in Abby’s life.” He started to tell his brother about other concerns but decided against it. Linc had enough on his mind between running Montgomery Electrical and planning his future. He didn’t need to shoulder Gil’s problems, too. They were both treading water, trying to adjust to the loss of their father and keep the family business afloat after narrowly avoiding bankruptcy last month.

  “So did you like the woman? More important, did Abby like her?”

  Gil rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I did. I have no clue what Abby thought. She won’t talk to me. I think I might call the agency and have them send someone older, more like Mom.”

  Linc nodded. “Or you can wait and see how things go. Maybe Abby needs someone younger, more flexible.”

  “Maybe. I just want her happy again.”

  “We all do. We want you to be happy
again, too, bro.”

  He shook his head and sat. He could never be happy until Abby was. “I’m not sure that’s possible. So what is it I need to sign that couldn’t wait until tomorrow? It’s Sunday afternoon. You should be home watching the play-offs.”

  Linc shoved a folder of papers toward him. “I’d rather be, but the bids on the Westfal project are due tomorrow morning and I’m hand delivering the bid to the contractor as soon as they’re signed. We can’t afford to miss any opportunities if we’re going to stay afloat. Oh, and I saw a couple upcoming jobs on the Dodge Reports you might want to look into.”

  Gil scribbled his name on the documents, then tossed the pen onto the desk. “Is that all? I need to get back to Abby.”

  Linc glanced at the signature, then closed the folder. “Yeah. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m counting on this job to come through. It could turn things around for us. We’ve still got a long way to go to get the company back on solid ground.”

  Exhaling a heavy breath, Gil ran a hand down the back of his neck. The recent setbacks at the company had forced his brother to make some tough decisions and a major sacrifice. “I should have been here. I let you down.”

  Linc held up his hand. “Stop. No one blames you. Abby was your first priority.”

  Mounting pressure in his chest drove Gil to his feet. “I let her down, too.” His gaze came to rest on the family photo on the desk. “And Mom and Dad. Everyone.”

  “How do you figure?”

  Gil brushed back his sport coat, setting his hands on his hips and keeping his back to his brother, his gaze fixed out the window. “I robbed Dad and Mom of their only grandchild. I promised Dad I’d bring her back home.”

  “And you did.”

  “Too late for him.”

  “Hey, at least you tried. Leah is the one who left and took Abby away.”

  “I should have fought harder. I should never have let Abby go with her mother in the first place. If I’d understood her illness better, I would never have allowed her full custody of Abby.”

  “We all believed that a toddler should be with her mother. None of us realized Leah was bipolar.”

  “But I should have. I was married to her. How stupid was I? I should have realized. The violent mood swings, the constant demand for more attention, the fact nothing was ever good enough. I thought she was spoiled. The worst part is she lied to me. If I hadn’t stumbled on her meds when I went to pick up Abby that time, I’d never have known. Her sister, Pam, was only too eager to fill me in on how cruel I’d been.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? If I’d known sooner, I could have helped her, gotten her better care, treated her differently. I might have been able to fix things.”

  “Gil, bipolar disorder isn’t something you can fix. You know that. You’re a smart guy.”

  “If I’m so smart, why didn’t I see that my own wife was ill?”

  “A better question would be, why didn’t she tell you?”

  The phone rang and Linc picked it up. Gil was only vaguely aware of the conversation. His brother’s question was the same one he’d asked himself a million times. Why had Leah hidden her illness from him? Keeping him in the dark had only complicated all their lives and led to a string of bad decisions on his part. Regrets nagged at him constantly. He longed for the wise council of his father and the keen insight of his mother, neither of whom were available. He was on his own, free to make a whole new string of poor decisions with his daughter.

  “That was a reminder that the bid on the Bancroft project is due this Friday.”

  “I’ll have it ready.” He glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. There were only thirteen months between them. They’d grown up more like twins. They could read each other’s thoughts. Right now worry was written all over Linc’s face. “I owe you an apology for fouling things up here.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing behind his eyes. “I left you to deal with everything after Dad died. I wasn’t here to help with Mom or the company. I didn’t take enough time on the bids.”

  “Gil, we all understood. The mess here with the company was all on me. I wasn’t prepared to run the business. I never appreciated how good Dad was at running things here until he was gone.”

  “Me either. Do you think we can keep the place going?”

  “I hope so. The family is depending on us.”

  Linc came from behind the desk and placed a hand on Gil’s shoulder, giving it a brotherly squeeze. “You know, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “I know. I’d better get back. I’ll be here early tomorrow. The nanny will be taking Abby to school from now on.”

  Linc nodded and patted his shoulder. “See you then. Oh, Mom said Beth came through the surgery on her tendon fine.”

  “Good to hear.” Gil glanced at the photo again. Everyone in his family was suffering in some way. Without their father to serve as their anchor, they were all adrift.

  * * *

  The house was quiet when Gil stepped inside a short while later. The nanny was sitting at the kitchen table working on her tablet. She looked at him and smiled, bringing a glint into her brown eyes and revealing a dimple on one side of her mouth he hadn’t noticed before. She had an infectious smile, wide and bright, that lit up the room. It almost made him want to smile back. He didn’t. “Where’s Abby? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, of course. She’s in her room.”

  Gil tapped the tabletop with his fingers, fighting a fresh wave of concern. “Has she been there the whole time?”

  “No. We had a snack, she showed me around the house and then she took me to her room. Did you know she doesn’t like the color pink? Purple is her favorite.”

  He studied the woman. How did she know that? “No. She never said. I thought all girls like pink. My sisters did.”

  The nanny grinned as if placating a small child. “I think she’d like it if you could paint her room purple. Maybe she could help pick out the color.”

  He turned away, gathering himself as he slipped out of his sport coat. “Sure. We can do that.” He took a seat at the table, clasping his hands. “I didn’t have much time to get that room ready, and I never thought to ask about the color.” Another misstep as a father. He should have asked Abby what she wanted, but it had never occurred to him. Once he’d been assured he would have full custody of his daughter, he’d hired one of the guys at the shop to paint the room and get it ready.

  “Picking out things she likes will help her feel more at home. Change can be frightening for a child.”

  Resentment clogged Gil’s throat. “Are you saying I frighten her?”

  “No.” She pressed her lips together. “But she thinks you don’t want her here.”

  “She told you that?” His chest tightened.

  “Yes. We talked a little and—”

  “She talked to you?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Gil stood, fighting the anger and hurt coursing through him. Abby hadn’t said more than three words at a time to him since he’d brought her home, and those were usually clipped sentences. His mother had been able to coax some conversation from her, but not much. Yet this woman had learned more about his child in an hour than he had in weeks. He faced the nanny, her big brown eyes filled with puzzlement. “Abby doesn’t talk much.”

  “She’s struggling to adjust to her new life with you. She’s lost her mother, been taken from everything familiar and put in a new situation. Spending one-on-one time with her, learning what she likes to do, will ease that transition. I’ve found that listening closely to the things they say can be very helpful.”

  “You think?” Was she accusing him of being a poor father? He’d heard that too often from his wife. He didn’t need to it hear from an employee. “I think I know what’s best for my
daughter.”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t.” She lowered her eyes, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

  Gil squared his shoulders. This woman had no idea what he was going through. “Abby needs time, that’s all.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Now she was placating him. “Miss Bishop, I know you mean well, but I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that you are only here to care for my daughter until my mother returns.”

  “Yes, of course. I understand.”

  He tried to ignore the hurt look in her pretty brown eyes. He had a sinking sensation in his gut like he’d just kicked a sweet fuzzy bunny. He made a mental note to avoid eye contact with the attractive nanny. “Abby is fragile right now. I don’t want her upset in any way. Just watch over her and let her have whatever she wants.” He thought he saw a glint of disapproval in her eyes but shrugged it off. She couldn’t possibly understand his situation. No one could.

  Miss Bishop shut off her tablet and slipped it into her large bag. She stood and picked up a paper from the folder she’d been studying. She took a deep breath, as if preparing to deliver another blow. She held out the paper, and Gil braced himself.

  “We drew pictures. It’s a good way to find out what a child is thinking or feeling. This is what she drew.”

  Great. He could just imagine what she’d drawn. An ugly monster or maybe a man with a mean face? After he took the paper, he puzzled at the image. “A dog?”

  The nanny gave him a tender smile that warmed her eyes and put a glow in her cheeks. “Apparently she had one named Cookie, but he went away. I thought maybe you could tell me what happened. She obviously cared deeply for the little dog.”

  Gil rubbed his bottom lip. “No. I don’t know about any pets she might have had.” He stared at the nanny. The compassion in her chocolate-brown eyes connected with a part of him he’d thought long dead. Her concern was directed at him. She understood what he was going through. It had been a long time since a woman had offered him understanding. The nanny was not only kind and intuitive, but she truly cared for others. No wonder Abby had taken to her so easily. That knowledge should make him happy. It didn’t. “Truth is, I don’t know much about her life for the last three years.”