Читать книгу The Nanny - Judith Stacy, Judith Stacy - Страница 13

Dressing like a girl took forever.

Annie lamented her decision as she closed the last fastener on her dress and turned to the mirror.

The green gown—her second favorite—looked nice, she decided, even if climbing into hoops, corset and petticoats took three times as long as dressing in her trousers. She’d coiled her hair atop her head, adding to the ordeal.

But she looked like a nanny, or at least what she guessed a nanny should look like. Mrs. Flanders certainly couldn’t peer down her nose at her when she got downstairs this morning.

Annie heard a voice in the room next door and found Georgia tending to little Hannah.

“Slept all night, did she?” Georgia asked as Annie walked in.

“Not a peep out of her.”

Georgia lifted Hannah into her arms; the baby yawned and stretched her chubby arms.

“I brought up her bottle for you,” Georgia said, nodding toward the table beside the rocker. “Mrs. Royce gets it ready first thing.”

“I’ll feed Hannah, then wake the other children,” Annie said. It seemed a reasonable, organized way to start her day, even if she hadn’t read it in a book.

Georgia shook her head. “They’re not in their room. I was just there.”

Annie was mildly surprised. “Oh. Well, then they’re having their breakfast already.”

Georgia uttered a short laugh. “I was just down there, and there’s not hide nor hair of those children anywhere in this house.”

Mild surprise edged toward panic. Her first full day as nanny and Annie didn’t even know where the children were.

She resisted the urge to utter a curse. “Could you start feeding Hannah while I check on the others? I don’t want to get you into trouble with Mrs. Flanders, but if you could just—”

“Oh, never mind about that Mrs. Flanders.” Georgia gave the baby a hug. “Me and little Miss Hannah know a few places to hide out where that cranky ol’ woman won’t never find us.”

“Thank you, Georgia. Thanks so much.” Annie hiked up her dress and rattled down the stairway.

“Miss Martin!”

Annie jerked to a stop in the downstairs hallway as Mrs. Flanders barked her name. Hands folded in front of her, the older woman stood in the center of the parlor, glaring at her.

Annie’s first instinct was to tell Mrs. Flanders she had no time for her, and to hurry on about her business. But Mrs. Flanders ran the house. Being rude to her wouldn’t improve her employment longevity.

“Yes?” Annie asked politely, forcing a smile, feigning interest.

“I want to make it clear to you, Miss Martin, that you are to take charge of the children. Georgia is no longer available to assist with them in any way.”

Annie pressed her lips together, sure Mrs. Flanders couldn’t possibly know that Georgia was taking care of the baby at this very moment.

“A proper nanny would know that,” Mrs. Flanders told her, indicating by her tone that Annie was just the opposite. Her lips turned down even more sharply. “I understand a girl of your…background…isn’t accustomed to living in a fine home such as this.”

Annie’s cheeks flushed in the face of yet another insult.

“Mrs. Ingalls devoted countless hours to decorating her home.” Mrs. Flanders waved her hand about the elegantly furnished parlor. “Do you recognize the workmanship of that cabinet, Miss Martin?”

Annie reined in her impatience to find the children, and eyed the mahogany cabinet with its slender tapering legs, carved feathers and oval, brass drawer handles. “Well…”

“Hepplewhite, the renowned cabinetmaker in London. Many of the tables in this house are Sheraton’s, also from London. The wallpaper? Imported from France. The finest crystal, china, silver and linens from Europe.” Mrs. Flanders drew herself up and looked pointedly at Annie’s dress. “Mrs. Ingalls’s clothing was made for her by the finest dressmakers in the East and abroad.”

Annie kept her chin up, fighting the instinct to explain her circumstances and shield her simple dress with her hands. Fighting, too, the instinct she hadn’t experienced since she was ten years old—to make a fist and pop Mrs. Flanders in her arrogant nose.

Instead, she plastered on the closest thing to a smile she could manage. “I’m sure Mrs. Ingalls had exquisite taste. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“One more thing, Miss Martin. The children aren’t to play in the house. You are to confine them to their room upstairs.”

Annie frowned. “But this is their home.”

Mrs. Flanders raised a haughty brow. “That’s the way it’s done, Miss Martin.”

“I understand,” Annie said, though really, she didn’t.

She left, forbidding herself to hurry away, but unable to shake off the sting of Mrs. Flanders’s words. Had she heard the gossip about Annie’s family? Or did the older woman simply not like her?

Either way, Annie intended to show Mrs. Flanders—and everyone else in the Ingalls household—that she was, indeed, worthy of the job entrusted to her.

In the cookhouse, Mrs. Royce and her helpers were busy at the worktables. Steam rose from boiling pots on the cookstove.

There was no sign of the three little Ingalls.

“Did the children have their breakfast already?” Annie asked, trying to sound casual.

The three cooks all looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“Down early, they were, before I got up,” Mrs. Royce muttered. “Fixed themselves a meal of jam and cookies, and a few other things, from the looks of the place.”

A vision of the mess the cooks must have walked in on this morning sprang into Annie’s mind. She threaded her fingers together. “Do you know where they went?”

“I’ve no clue,” Mrs. Royce said, and seemed relieved that she didn’t.

“Well, thank you,” Annie said, trying to smile.

It was only her first full day on the job and not only had she lost the children, she discovered they’d invaded the cookhouse and left it in a shambles.

A shudder passed through Annie. What else might the children be up to at this very moment?

Annie hurried out the back door. Shading her eyes against the morning sun, she gazed at the barns and outbuildings, the meadows and fields stretching into the distance. She circled the house twice. No sign of the children.

Sighing, she considered the probability that they would come back home once they got hungry. Sooner or later, her charges would reappear. She could simply wait them out.

Annie wasn’t willing to do that.

Muttering under her breath, she trudged back into the house and up the stairs. Mrs. Flanders might look down her nose at her. The cooks might wonder about her competence. Josh Ingalls could resent her nosy questions.

But those children—those three little children—were not going to get the best of her.

“What the…?”

Josh pulled his horse to a stop at the edge of the field, squinting his eyes against the sharp rays of the sun. Green rolling hills spread out as far as he could see, dotted by trees and an occasional rabbit and squirrel.

And here, amid this vast emptiness, he saw Annie.

Annie. Josh pressed his lips together as he watched her hiking up the hill toward a spreading elm tree. She had on the same straw hat he’d seen her in yesterday.

And she was wearing those trousers.

Annoying. Yes, annoying, finding her out here, he decided. Yet he wasn’t clear on just why he felt that way.

It couldn’t possibly be the trousers. Could it?

No. Of course not, he decided, shifting in the saddle. Probably it was because he needed the solitude of his farm this morning. He didn’t want to be reminded of problems. He didn’t want to make decisions at the moment.

Or was it because he’d found her creeping into his thoughts since daybreak? Without trousers?

Josh snorted, then nudged his stallion’s sides and headed toward her.

Good gracious, Annie thought as she saw Josh approach. The man owned hundreds of acres—hundreds. How could he possibly be in the same place as she?

And why had he showed up at this particular moment, on this particular spot when she didn’t have the foggiest idea where his children were? Just how was she going to explain that?

Above all, she couldn’t let him know that she’d failed so terribly at her new job.

Annie waited as he drew nearer, licking her dry lips, trying to work up some moisture—and a reasonable explanation.

She was hot and thirsty. She hadn’t brought any water with her. She’d always lived in towns. She wasn’t used to these wide-open spaces. She hadn’t thought the morning would turn so warm, or that she’d walk so far, or that she’d get lost. But at least she was more comfortable than she would have been if she hadn’t gone back upstairs and changed out of her dress before setting out.

“Good morning.” Annie put on a smile when Josh stopped his horse beside her under the shade of the elm.

He leaned on the saddle horn, gazing down at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “What are you doing way out here?”

“Just taking a walk,” she said with a smile and a breezy air, trying to look as if she weren’t about to melt into her shoe tops.

“You’re a long way from the house.” He looked around. “Where are the children?”

Darn. He’d noticed.

“They’re here,” Annie said, waving her hand, freezing her smile in place.

He raised in the stirrups and looked around once more. “I don’t see them.”

Annie smacked her dry lips. “Well, we’re…we’re playing a game. We’re playing…hide-and-seek.”

“So the children are…hiding?”

“Yes.” Annie stretched her mouth into a wider smile. “And let me tell you, Mr. Ingalls, those children of yours are terrific little hiders.”

“I guess they are,” Josh said, raising his eyebrows, “considering that I just saw them at the pond.”

The pond? The children were at the pond?

Annie’s knees nearly gave out with relief. Thank goodness. She could go get them and head back home. Still, she couldn’t give up the pretense.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them know you gave away their hiding place,” Annie said. “Well, goodbye.”

She’d gone only a few steps when Josh called her name. She turned around.

“The pond is that way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“I know that,” she insisted, trying to keep him from realizing that not only hadn’t she known where his children were, she didn’t know where she was. “I was heading for the house.”

Josh pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t suppose you used to be a scout with the army?”

“No, of course not. Why?”

“The house is the other way.” He pointed again.

“Oh.”

Josh gazed down at her for a moment, as if by looking hard he could make her confess the truth. Annie was tempted. Tempted to confess all, beg for forgiveness and a ride back to the house. Instead, she glared right back up at him.

He swung down from his horse and looped the reins around a low branch.

“You shouldn’t come out here with no water,” he said, untying his canteen.

She licked her lips but shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

“Suit yourself.” Josh leaned his head back, drinking from the canteen. Little rivulets of water trickled down his chin, his throat and under his shirt.

She watched him as long as she could, then gave in. “Well, maybe I’ll have a sip.”

Annie accepted the canteen from Josh. Dry as her throat was, she hesitated. Putting her mouth where Josh’s mouth had been seemed too personal. Almost scandalous. And Annie had never done a scandalous thing in her entire life.

Finally, good sense won out. Annie tipped up the canteen and drank greedily. The water tasted sweet and fresh.

It tasted like Josh, surely.

“You shouldn’t be out on foot like this,” Josh said.

“I had no choice. The children were g—that is, they wanted to play a game.”

He raised an eyebrow again. “Hide-and-seek?”

Annie could have sworn she saw the corner of his lips turn up, but refused to acknowledge the possibility that she was lying.

“Yes, hide-and-seek.”

Annie plopped down in the soft, green grass beneath the tree. A faint breeze stirred the leaves above them and a bird flew over. She gazed out across the fields.

“It’s pretty here,” she said.

Josh grunted. “You’re not much of a farm girl if what you see here is ‘pretty.”’

“I’ve never lived on a farm before, except for these last weeks with my cousin,” Annie admitted. “If you don’t see ‘pretty,’ what do you see?”

He walked over and stood beside her. “Money. Money and hard work.”

“Money from the crops, I guess?”

“Wheat, mostly. We’ll be planting soon.”

“At the end of summer?”

“Winter wheat,” Josh explained. “It develops its root system before the onset of cold weather, and becomes dormant. The plants make vigorous growth in the spring before they’re harvested in early summer. Winter wheat usually gives greater yield than spring wheat.”

“And, therefore, more money?”

He looked at her. “Exactly.”

“And plenty of hard work?”

He nodded. “Always plenty of that.”

“The work seems to suit you.”

Josh looked out over his fields again, then dropped to the ground beside her. “I love this place. I bought the land with money I’d won from a lucky streak of poker, and started farming.”

Annie wanted to ask him how many acres he owned, but didn’t. She didn’t want Josh to think she was interested in his wealth, as so many of the other nannies had been.

“My cousin Angus has lived here a while, I understand. He loves the land, too,” Annie said. “It’s been difficult for my mother to adjust to this place.”

Josh turned to her. “Why’s that?”

Annie stifled a gasp. Why had she mentioned her family? She hadn’t meant to. In fact, the very last thing she wanted to discuss with Josh was her family. She was lucky that he didn’t already know about them…about the scandal.

“She was worried about moving out here, so far from a large town,” Annie explained. “Worried about the Indians.”

Josh shrugged. “We’ve had no trouble with Indians in years. After the war with the Sauks back in ’32, most of them headed west to Washington. A few stayed behind. One of them is my friend, Night Hawk. Besides, there’s a large contingency of soldiers at Fort Tye.”

“My cousin Angus said there was no need to worry,” Annie said. “But my mother, well, she worried anyway. It’s been difficult for her since my father died.”

“They were in love, your mother and father?”

She was a little surprised by his question. “Well, yes, I suppose they were. I mean, they were married for years. Wouldn’t they have been in love?”

Josh grunted and turned away.

“Isn’t that what marriage is all about?” Annie pushed her straw hat off her head and stretched her legs out in front of her. “When I marry it will be for love. Love and passion. Enough to last two lifetimes.”

Josh fell silent for a few moments, so long, in fact, that Annie turned to him. A vacant look had come over his face and she realized how thoughtless her comments were.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about marriage, with your wife gone.”

Josh shook his head but still wouldn’t look at her. “No, it’s all right.”

“I won’t speak of her again.”

Josh turned to her then. “I don’t mind. Really. I don’t want the children to think they can’t talk about their mother.”

For a man who seemed determined to spend as little time with his children as possible, Annie was surprised to hear Josh say those things.

“Mrs. Flanders speaks highly of your wife,” Annie said.

“Lydia brought Mrs. Flanders with her from Philadelphia when we married.”

“Your wife wasn’t from here?”

Josh glanced down at his hands. “No,” he said softly. “We met when I traveled East on business. Hers was a very fine, well-established family. I was…fortunate…she agreed to the marriage.”

Josh sank into his own thoughts, making Annie feel like an intruder. Yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

Was this the face of a man still in love with his dead wife? Is that what his expression meant?

A little knot squeezed her chest tight, and for some reason, Annie couldn’t bear to sit here beside him another moment.

“I’m heading back,” she said, and got to her feet.

He came out of his reverie and rose beside her. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“Not necessary,” Annie insisted. “I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.”

“Believe it or not, Miss Martin, insuring that my children’s nanny doesn’t succumb to heatstroke is an important matter to me.”

Putting it that way made Annie’s refusal sound a bit silly. Still, she didn’t want to ride with him, didn’t want him—or anyone who might see them—to get the idea she was interested in anything more than his children.

Because she wasn’t. Was she?

Annie backed away. “No, really, Mr. Ingalls, I’d rather walk.”

He followed as she backed away. “It’s too far and too hot.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ll be fine. Really.”

Josh stopped a pace in front of her. “Is there some…other reason you don’t want to ride with me?”

The breath went out of Annie as Josh gazed down at her. What was it about this man? Sometimes when he looked at her—simply looked—he caused the most peculiar reaction.

“Well?” he asked, inching closer.

Annie managed to look up at him. “I—I don’t want anyone to get the idea I’m…”

“You’re…?”

What was it Georgia had said about the other nannies? “I don’t want anyone to think I’m sniffing around after you.”

A little grin tugged at his lips. “Sniffing around?”

“Yes,” she said, and felt her cheeks grow warm. “That I’m interested in you because of your wealth or…other things. Because I certainly don’t—”

He kissed her on the mouth. Looped his arms around her, pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers, blending them together. Stunned, Annie hung in his embrace, unable to stand, unable to breathe. His thighs touched hers. His chest brushed her breasts. And he tasted delightful, like—she had no idea what, for she’d never before tasted anything so fine.