Читать книгу The Nanny's Little Matchmakers - Danica Favorite - Страница 11
ОглавлениеHe was crazy to even consider it, Mitch told himself firmly as he followed Polly and Frank back to the parsonage, where Frank insisted they would be more comfortable discussing the issue. The children skipped on ahead, gleeful at having gotten rid of yet another nanny. And, he was certain, already plotting ways of getting rid of Polly.
Mitch kept stealing glances at the girl, who suddenly seemed so young. Too young, but probably the same age Hattie had been when they’d married. Perhaps even older.
Hattie’s dreams had not included marriage or family either. But Mitch hadn’t understood that when she’d accepted his proposal. Nor had he realized it when the baby, Louisa, had come too soon. He’d been forced to accept that reality when he’d been left alone too many nights with the squalling baby as Hattie pursued her career on stage.
At least Polly had the maturity to realize that she wasn’t meant to be a wife and mother. She wouldn’t leave behind a brokenhearted husband and children who didn’t understand why their darling mummy didn’t want to be with them. That had been years ago, of course. Mitch’s heart had healed, and the children understood that Mummy had to travel a lot for work and they lived for the moments when she could be with them.
Well, that’s how it had worked while Hattie was alive. With her gone, Mitch didn’t know what hope the children clung to, or how he was supposed to make up for a lack of a mother. Even one as inattentive as Hattie.
They arrived at the parsonage, a cheerful yellow house that looked like it had been tacked on to several times over the years. Frank escorted them to the parlor, then excused himself briefly to get the rest of the family to make introductions.
Polly sat on the sofa, smiling at Mitch’s children, who now regarded her with a great deal of suspicion.
A short robust woman entered the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is this nonsense I hear about Polly becoming a nanny? And going off to be a teacher?”
“Maddie, stop.” Another woman, an older, stouter version of Polly, entered the room and looked at her. “But you should have told us.”
“Ma, I...” Polly looked up helplessly, as though she hadn’t quite thought through her plan.
Before Polly could finish, Frank reentered the room, several children following him.
“I realize this isn’t a standard part of employment negotiations, but since our families will be connected in the coming months, I wanted you to meet everyone. Besides, I’m sure your children could use some friends.”
Frank introduced the children, and Mitch’s head spun from all the names. From what he gathered, Frank’s son-in-law, Joseph, had recently built a house next door. Joseph was raising his orphaned siblings, and while the eldest, Mary, had recently married, the Stone children rivaled Mitch’s own in number. Additionally, when Polly and her mother, Gertie, came to stay with Frank to help with the Stone children, they’d brought along Gertie’s youngest daughter, Caitlin. Polly’s older brothers and father remained in the mining camp, running the Stone mine. And, apparently, the folks at the parsonage also cared for several other children as well.
All told, Mitch counted a dozen children, in the age ranges of his own. A little girl about the same age as Thomas stepped forward and said, “Hi, my name’s Nugget. Want to go play bandits with us?”
His own children looked at him expectantly.
No one had ever asked them to play before. Usually, they would approach other children, ask them to play, and the children’s mothers would take them by the hand and usher them away with warnings about “those people.”
Polly smiled at him. “It’s all right. They’ll stay in the backyard.” Then she looked over at a little girl standing next to Nugget. “Right, Caitlin?”
“Yes, Polly.” The little girl sighed and looked like she was about to whisper something to Nugget.
“And no ropes!”
The two girls sighed like Polly had accurately predicted what they had up their sleeves.
“Or water,” Maddie said. “Or you’ll all be doing the washing, then sent to bed with only bread and milk for supper.”
“And do leave the rocks on the ground,” Gertie said, looking pointedly at a boy who appeared to be of similar age to Rory.
Gertie smiled at him as the children went outside. “And now that we’ve probably frightened you with all the warnings we’ve given the children about their behavior, let me assure you that—”
“Don’t bother,” Polly said, pointing at her soiled dress. “His children can take it. I have this courtesy of a flour fight over rapped knuckles and tattle tales.”
“More laundry,” Maddie sighed. “I do so hate laundry.”
“Maddie is our housekeeper,” Frank said, patting the other woman on the arm. “And she does a fine job. However, I was thinking that Alan Forester’s widow is in need of extra money, and she’s been taking in washing. I’m sure she’d be happy for the work.”
“What use would I be, then?” Maddie glared at him. “I’ll be thanking you to not be giving my work to someone else to do. You just tell those rascals to stop getting so dirty, and we’ll be fine. I’ll get tea for everyone.”
Maddie stomped off, and the other adults laughed.
“Please, sit.” Gertie gestured to an empty chair. “I apologize for the craziness, but you should know right off that chaos is something Polly does very well with. The children truly aren’t bad, but they are lively. If yours are as lively as ours, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Her words were meant in solidarity, that he could tell by her smile. And for the first time in a long time, Mitch didn’t feel quite so alone.
“Which is why I offered my services,” Polly said, looking at him with a ferocity that surprised him. “Your children are quite a handful, but I know how to handle them.”
Mitch let out a long sigh. Polly’s offer was probably the best he was going to get, considering he’d gone through every nanny agency in Denver. He’d have to send to New York, or perhaps even London, to find someone willing to take on his children. No one wanted to take care of the Taylor Terrors.
But that wasn’t the only reason people didn’t want to work for him.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps. But I feel compelled to share some of our family’s circumstances with you before you make a decision.”
Then he looked around the room. Could he trust them with his secrets? Some of them perhaps. “I hope we can all keep this information confidential.”
“Of course,” they all said at once, looking aghast that he’d even suggest it.
Mitch debated about what information to share—most of it could be confirmed by reading the papers, and there were certainly even more rumors and innuendos. But the whole truth? No one knew the whole truth. He wasn’t even sure he did.
“The reason we came to Leadville is I needed to leave Denver. Our family owns a successful chain of mercantile stores, but the rumors and gossip surrounding my wife’s death were hurting business, and my family was receiving threats. I’m staying with my brother until talk dies down.”
Mitch’s throat ached as he tried to form the words to explain Hattie’s death. “You may have read the story in the papers. My wife was Hattie Winston, the famous actress who was found murdered in her bed at the Orrington Grand Hotel.”
Silence rang through the room so loud, it was almost like thunder. But then Mitch realized it was his heart. He’d only admitted the truth out loud to his brother, Andrew, and Iris. To tell strangers seemed almost...irresponsible of him. Not that he’d given any information that hadn’t been in the papers.
“Hattie’s scandalous affairs have always tainted our family. The good families have long stopped receiving us, and now, with her death, people are outright hostile. Hattie ruined a lot of lives.”
His chest tightened at the thought. He’d liked to have said that Hattie had ruined his life, because in many ways, she had. But without Hattie, he wouldn’t have his children, and without them, what would he have then?
Mitch looked up at the others. “My children know few details about what happened. I have deliberately kept the information about their mother’s indiscretions from them. They loved their mother, and I won’t have their memories tainted. It’s all they have left of her.”
For all of Hattie’s faults, when she was with the children, she did appear to love them. And they had adored her. Everyone adored Hattie Winston. A reviewer once wrote about her that “to be in the presence of Hattie Winston was to be in the sun, and to be without was to be in the midst of the cloudiest of days.”
Mitch had spent his time in Hattie’s sun. Unfortunately, when a person spends too much time in the sun, he gets burned.
Polly gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that none of us have a problem with that, and we don’t judge you, the children or even Hattie.”
She glanced over at Frank, who nodded. “One of the many components of the ministry here is that we care for the least of God’s children, and that includes those tainted with scandal.”
Maddie entered the room, bearing a tea tray. “I have refreshments.”
Polly turned away from him and looked at Maddie. “Were the children still out back?”
“Screaming like wild animals. I’m surprised you don’t hear them.”
“Nugget?” Polly’s eyes darted to the door.
“Leading them all as always.”
Polly turned back to him. “Nugget is Joseph Stone’s half sister. She is the product of a liaison between his father and a woman of the night. I’m not telling you this to gossip, or to single her out from the others. In fact, I would suggest you never say anything to indicate Nugget being any different from the rest of her family or that she is not equally loved and valuable, because every single person in this household will hurt you for it. But I want you to understand. Whatever scandal their mother was involved in, it has no bearing on the worthiness and love your children deserve.”
Though Polly’s speech was meant in defense of someone else’s child, her fierce love for Nugget made Mitch want to weep. He never wept when Hattie died, even though he probably should have. But here, knowing that what he’d always hoped for his own children might actually be possible...
Frank came over and put his hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “I know you bear a heavy burden, even more than what you’ve shared with us. But we are here, as servants of the Lord, to help you bear those burdens.”
Mitch’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t help it. For twelve years, he’d carried the shame of the truth about Hattie, listened to the judgment of others over Hattie’s behavior and here, in this place, these people were telling him that he didn’t have to anymore.
Polly MacDonald wasn’t just offering to take care of his children. She was offering him a lifeline he hadn’t known he needed.
* * *
Polly hadn’t expected the rush of emotion from Mitch. She could tell he still fought to maintain control, but his eyes were watery, like he wanted to cry, but couldn’t. How many times had she seen that in the people they’d ministered to? People who needed help, and didn’t believe it possible.
Even though she’d seen this job as a way out, and a chance to carve her own path, now it was something more. They hadn’t even talked terms of her employment, but she knew whatever they were, she’d accept.
The trouble with wanting her own life was that, if Polly were to be honest with herself, there were pieces of her current life that she loved. They’d been given a nearby barn to use for their mission purposes and were slowly converting it to a real place where they could minister to the down-and-out people of Leadville society. Polly loved every minute she spent there.
But the coming home...living with everyone else’s expectations...that’s where her life had become drudgery.
Thinking about Mitch and his children, Polly felt a renewed sense of purpose, more energy than she’d felt even when considering pursuing her teaching certificate.
Mitch looked up at her. “Aren’t you needed here?”
Everyone in the room laughed. Polly groaned. “Trust me, they have plenty of help. The others are just over at the mission today.”
Gertie nodded. “We have Mary and Annabelle, and Emma Jane comes over often to help as well. Plus, Rose has been extremely helpful lately.”
Polly was grateful that she neglected to mention that all four women were expecting. Somehow she didn’t think Mitch would see four expectant mothers as being much help with such a rowdy brood of children. In truth, each woman had a unique bond with a different child. Annabelle could always get Nugget to behave the best, Mary handled the rest of the Stone children with ease and somehow Daniel, the unruliest of them all, had become besotted with Emma Jane’s son, Moses, and would do anything Emma Jane asked.
No, Polly wasn’t needed to help care for the children these days. She hardly felt needed at all, other than being an extra hand. Even then, sometimes she wondered what place she had in all of this chaos.
The latest announcement, Mary’s pregnancy, a scant two months after her wedding to Will Lawson, made Polly wonder where she fit amongst her friends.
One more reason she should carve out a life of her own.
She turned to Mitch and smiled. “Truly. I’ve been looking for an opportunity like this for a long time. You could accept me for a trial period, and if things don’t work out, then you can hire another nanny. But in the meantime, you’ll have someone to care for your children.”
The front door opened, and Polly heard the laughter of her friends long before she could see them.
“Oh, my feet!” Rose pulled off her hat as she entered the room, rubbing her swollen belly. “Oh! I’m sorry, didn’t realize you had guests.”
“It’s all right,” Frank said, patting the couch beside him. “Come sit. Rest your feet, and meet Mitch Taylor. He’s considering hiring Polly to be his nanny.”
Annabelle and Mary followed.
“What’s this about Polly becoming a nanny?” Though Mary had barely discovered her pregnancy, she rubbed her own belly as she sat in one of the empty chairs.
“She’d like a life of her own, it seems,” Frank said, smiling at Polly. She imagined he was trying to be encouraging, but as she looked at her three expectant friends, she felt guilty knowing that she probably should stay here to help them.
Rose made a noise and patted her stomach again. “I had visions of that myself, and look where that got me. I suppose you’re taking a more respectable path, but don’t be fooled into thinking that the world is any better out there. At least here, you have a family who loves and supports you.”
“It’s not as though she’s running away with an outlaw, Rose, dear.” Annabelle gave her sister-in-law a pat on the shoulder as she moved to sit in another chair. Then Annabelle turned her attention to Mitch.
“I am assuming you’re not an outlaw, and that you’re a man of good character? Mary’s husband, Will, is a lawman, and I can assure you that if you engage in any funny business, he will bring you to justice.”
Poor Mitch looked overwhelmed, and she didn’t blame him.
“I’m sure Will would be happy to make some inquiries,” Mary said, smiling at Mitch in the same way she smiled at the children when giving them a subtle threat.
Except with so many people staring him down, Mitch could hardly think that any of them were being subtle.
Polly stood. “I’m sure Mr. Taylor is perfectly respectable. His brother runs Taylor’s Mercantile, and we all know how well he speaks of his other family members. Uncle Frank would have never brought him into our home had it been otherwise.”
Then she turned to Mitch. “Why don’t we go out back so we can check on the children and discuss terms of my employment?”
The creases in his forehead softened as he stood. “I think that’s a good idea. My children...”
He looked as though he wanted to say something about his children’s capabilities but then thought better of it. Polly bit back a giggle. Oh, if only he knew the sort of antics she’d put up with over the years. He was afraid of terrifying her, but after having endured questioning by her family, he should have realized that there wasn’t much that scared Polly.
Polly led him out the back door, not waiting for any of the others to catch up or comment. That was the other problem with being tied to her family. As much as she truly loved them, it seemed like none of them gave her the space to think for herself. To make her own choices.
Granted, some of the overprotectiveness was her own fault. Her failed romance was with a man who’d turned out to be an outlaw, and her blind trust in him had nearly cost Annabelle her life. Polly had failed to see the man’s interest in Annabelle, and when he’d kidnapped her, hoping to use her as leverage to gain access to a silver mine, Polly had looked the other way. No, not looked the other way. That implied a level of complacency Polly had lacked. Rather, Polly had been blinded by jealousy and thought Annabelle had stolen her beau.
Love, or at least the thought of being in love, had stolen Polly’s good sense. A common occurrence in these parts, since she’d seen too many love-struck women have their hearts broken by men interested in gambling, boozing and brothels. When she’d fallen for Tom, she’d been convinced he wasn’t like those men. She’d been only partially right. He might not have spent time in any of those places, but he’d been wicked all the same.
So it was no wonder none of her family and friends trusted her judgment. She questioned it herself. But this was not a romantic entanglement. Rather, it was legitimate, respectable employment.
No hearts to be broken here.
After all, Mitch was mourning the untimely death of his wife. The hint of gray at his temples suggested he was not the sort of man to be interested in her anyway. Although...if she’d been in a room with her friends, before their weddings, she might have indulged in a giggle or two over the fact that despite his age, Mitch Taylor was a handsome man indeed.
But he would not be interested in her. And while she was sure he was a perfectly respectable man, she was also certain that he was not free of secrets. Secrets that Polly would just as soon not involve herself with.
Mitch put his hand at her waist to steady her as she walked down the stairs. Though she’d walked down the stairs to the backyard plenty of times on her own before, there was something almost comforting about the warmth of his hand at her waist. Polly looked up at him, and he smiled.
Flecks of ice sparked in his deep blue eyes, and once again, she was struck by the hidden warmth within. It would be easy enough to believe in the fantasy that Mitch’s secrets were all about his hidden depth and warmth, but Polly knew better.
“Children!” Polly stepped out of Mitch’s reach and held her arms out. Her youngest sister, Caitlin, came running.
“We were good,” she said in a singsong voice. “Can we have some of the cookies Maddie was baking?”
The other children quickly followed, the chorus of voices joining Caitlin’s. But Polly noticed that the Taylor children hung back.
Polly stepped toward her charges and gave them a smile. “Did you have fun?”
The eldest, Louisa, glared at her, but the others hesitated. Nugget tugged at the back of her skirt. “They didn’t know any of our games.”
Polly turned toward Nugget. “Did you teach them?”
“No.” Nugget kicked at a rock. “They didn’t want to play.”
Polly put her arm around Nugget and turned her toward the Taylor children. “Do you remember when you first came here, and you didn’t know anyone?”
“People were mean to me, on account of my mama,” Nugget said quietly.
One of the twins, Clara, came forward. “People are mean to us, on account of our mama, too.”
Polly watched the expressions flash across the rest of the Taylor children’s faces. Her heart ached as she remembered the taunts poor little Nugget used to face. And, to a lesser extent, she used to face. Polly’s ma was a woman of the most honorable sort, but her pa... Polly sighed. She did her best to honor her pa, but his gambling, drinking and suspected philandering was the biggest reason she could never see herself settling down.
“Well, I’m not going to be mean to you on account of your mama.” Polly held out her hand. “And I am fairly certain that none of the children here will do so either. But if they do, they will answer to me.”
Clara came and took Polly’s hand. “Everyone says Mummy was wicked. And we’re wicked just like her.”
Those big brown eyes looked up at her, full of hope, yet fearful.
“You’re not wicked,” Polly said, squeezing the little girl’s hand, then looking over at the rest of the Taylor children. “You might need to learn a few manners, but that doesn’t mean you’re wicked.”
Mitch stepped alongside her. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think anyone’s told them that before.”
She turned her attention to him. “Why haven’t you?”
“I didn’t know.” The sadness in his voice tugged at her heart more strongly than the wounded expressions on his children’s faces.
She’d already been convinced that she needed to help this family. But now, more than ever, nothing would stop her from giving them the support they needed.
