Читать книгу A Princess Under The Mistletoe - Leanne Banks - Страница 9

Chapter One

One year later...

From the porch, Sara heard the sound of screaming. If she hadn’t known better, she might have assumed the sound wasn’t human. The sound of scrambling footsteps followed and the door opened.

A tall, rumpled-looking man stared at her as he held a screaming red-faced baby, and a young boy seemed to be attached to his leg.

“Are you Sara?” he asked, out of breath. “Sara Smith. The palace sent you?”

“Yes,” she said.

He looked her up and down. “Thank you for coming,” he said over the cries of the baby in his arms. “No offense, but you look terribly young. Are you old enough to be a nanny?”

Sara had scrubbed her face clean of cosmetics with the exception of lip gloss. All part of her temporary new role. She certainly didn’t need to wear the heavy stage makeup required of a concert pianist. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “I’m twenty-seven.”

“Oh,” he said, surprise crossing his features. “I never would have guessed.” The baby let out another howl. “We’re having a rough day, so if you want to give them juice and cookies to calm them down, that’s fine.”

He dragged his foot, with the attached child down the hallway. “This is Sam,” he said, nodding toward the boy.

“Hello, Sam,” Sara said tentatively. Although she’d known the family she was going to be working with was still reeling from a loss, this wasn’t exactly what she’d envisioned.

“And I’m holding Adelaide,” the man said. “As you can see, she’s a handful.”

“Yes,” Sara said. “Mr. Sinclair?”

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head. “Call me Gavin. You may be calling me some other names as the day wears on,” he said with a crooked smile on his face.

She met his gaze for a long moment and saw a combination of weariness and determined humor in his chocolate-brown eyes. He wasn’t conventionally handsome. Sara had met much more smoothly handsome men in her life. His rough strong features might have put her off, but his dark eyebrows and hard jaw were offset by that crooked smile and eyes that crinkled with humor even as his daughter shrieked directly into his ear.

He looked at Adelaide and stroked her cheek. “Sweetheart, you’re going to be fine.” He glanced at Sara. “She’s been cranky lately. I don’t know what’s bothering her. Drooling up a storm, nose running, but no fever. Maybe a midmorning nap will help. Let me show you where everything is,” he said. He held out his hand to Sam. “Help me out, bud. Let’s show the pretty lady around.”

Sam reluctantly detached himself from Gavin’s leg and held Gavin’s hand with both of his while Gavin explained the layout of the house, which, in addition to the master bedroom, contained a small nursery in the back, a laundry room and two additional small bedrooms, one filled with the little boy’s books and toys. The other was positioned between the nursery and what she assumed was Sam’s room.“This is your bedroom. I hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom with Sam,” Gavin said.

“Not at all,” she said, appreciating the way the morning sun shone through the window. The room was small and decorated with neutral quality linens, and it felt cozy. The whole house felt safe. A trickle of relief slid through her. This could work, she thought.

Gavin continued down the hall and waved his hand toward another bedroom containing a desk and computer along with exercise equipment. “Here’s the master. As you can tell, I’ve been trying to work some at home, but I haven’t been all that successful.” Adelaide had quieted and was letting out little moans.

Gavin turned again toward her. “You’ve seen the small formal parlor. We’re using the den as a playroom. Lots of toys and books, movies and favorite television shows. Feel free to use whatever you need.”

An old upright piano against the far wall immediately grabbed Sara’s attention. She gasped in delight. It was all she could do not to race over and feel the keys beneath her fingers. “You have a piano.”

Gavin nodded. “You play?”

In concert halls all over the world, she thought, rubbing her hands together. But not very much lately. She shrugged. “A little.”

“I can’t promise it’s been tuned recently,” he warned. “The piano hasn’t been a priority.”

“Of course,” she said, putting her hands behind her to hide her eagerness. Bless Princess Ericka. She had promised to try to provide a piano for her.

“Feel free to play whenever you want,” he said. “I hate to dump all this on you and leave so quickly, but I’ve got to get the palace construction schedule back on target. There’s a cell phone for your use on the kitchen counter and a pad of paper with all the contact numbers, including emergency numbers, you may need. Hopefully you won’t need the emergency numbers, but with young children, you never know.” He paused and glanced first at Adelaide as she rubbed her eyes, and then he glanced down at Sam.

Gavin sighed, and the sweet sadness in all three faces clutched at Sara’s heart.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t know what you’ve been told, but we’ve been having a rough time lately.”

“I’ve been briefed,” she assured him. Determination coursed through her. She’d been put here for a reason. She would help this family find happiness and security again. It was her destiny. “I’m quite ready to care for your children. Now, move along to the palace. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.” She opened her arms to take Adelaide.

The baby stared at her suspiciously, but allowed Sara to hold her. “Come along, Sam. We’re going to have juice and cookies. Give your father a big hug so he can have a good day at work. We all have our jobs to do. I’ll need your help with Adelaide.”

Gavin hugged Sam then grabbed a computer bag and headed for the door. “Call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine. Have a good day,” she called, feeling a bit like the magical nannies she’d watched in old movies while she was growing up. She could do this, she told herself. Children were so sweet.

Suddenly Sara felt Adelaide clamp her teeth onto her collarbone with the force of a mini shark. Pain tore through her, and she couldn’t swallow a surprised shriek. Adelaide pulled back at the sound and began to howl.

Sam kicked her in the shin.

Pain vibrated through her. Sara lost her breath. “Why did you do that?”

“You hurt my sister,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t hurt her,” Sara said over Adelaide’s cries. “She bit me!”

Sam met her gaze for a long moment. “Oh. I think her mouth hurts. Can I have my juice and cookie?”

“First you must apologize for kicking me,” she said as Adelaide’s wails softened to moans.

“I’m sorry,” he said reluctantly. “Can I—”

“Then you must make your request properly. May I please have juice and a cookie?”

He nodded. “Yes. You can.”

Sara sighed. “Repeat after me. May I please have juice and a cookie?”

Sam relented and repeated her word for word.

“Well done,” she said. “I’ll get it for you right now.”

Juggling Adelaide from one arm to the other, Sara served Sam’s snack at the table. Remembering she’d once had a toothache and that ice had seemed to help, she then returned to the refrigerator, pulled out an ice cube, wrapped it in a clean washcloth and offered it to Adelaide.

Silence followed. Five blessed seconds of silence. Sara took a deep breath as she watched Sam cram the cookie into his mouth and Adelaide gnaw on the cold washcloth. Maybe there was hope. But heaven help her, she couldn’t serve juice and cookies all day.

It took far longer than it should have, but Sara crammed Adelaide in a stroller and retied Sam’s shoes so they could go for a walk. She remembered as a child how much she’d craved being outside. Unlike the nannies she’d watched in movies, her nannies had kept her and her siblings inside the gloomy palace, which had always seemed to need repairs.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” she said to Sam. “It’s December, but it feels like May.”

Sam just shrugged.

“Don’t you enjoy being outside?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “I guess.”

“I hear you lived in North Dakota. Isn’t it very cold there?”

Sam nodded. “It snowed a lot. There’s no snow here.”

“Do you miss the snow?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

“What else do you miss?” she asked as she pushed the stroller.

A long silence followed. “Mommy,” he finally whispered in a voice so low the wind almost carried it away.

Her heart contracted in sympathy and she squeezed Sam’s shoulder. He immediately stiffened and drew back. Too early for hugs, she thought, making a mental note of it.

Several moments passed. “My dad keeps saying we can go to the beach, but we’ve only been once.” Sam finally said.

Sara couldn’t imagine taking both children to the beach, but perhaps she could enlist the help of someone. “Maybe we can do that soon. Just for a walk. The water may be too cool for a real swim.”

Sam squinted his eyes up at her. “Yeah,” he said skeptically.

Sara felt a ripple of challenge from that skeptical gaze. She frowned. “We’ll go to the beach soon. You’ll see.”

Sam glanced down at the stroller. “Adelaide’s asleep.”

“Oh, heavens. We need to get her back to her crib,” she said as she turned around.

“She’ll wake up as soon as we get home.”

“No. She won’t,” Sara insisted. “I just need to ease her into her crib.”

“She’s gonna wake up,” Sam said, knowingly.

Turned out, Sam was right.

The rest of the day was a blur. Adelaide napped, but not for very long. Sam dozed. Sara served the children an early dinner and they were all half watching television as Gavin walked in the door. Sam immediately snapped to attention.

“How did your first day go with Sara?” Gavin asked.

Adelaide kicked her feet and howled. Sara gave her a washcloth to chew on.

“She took us for a walk,” Sam said. “A long walk.”

“Good,” Gavin said and looked at Sara. “Everything okay?”

She moved her head in a circle because “okay” was relative. “Yes,” she managed. “I figured out that Adelaide is teething.”

Realization crossed his face. “Yeah. You’re so right. I should have figured that out sooner.”

“No problem,” Sara said. “She’ll just be chewing a cold washcloth for the first year of her life. Right, baby?” she said to Adelaide.

The baby frowned and chowed down on the washcloth.

“Good job,” he said, then looked at Sam. “Time for us to go see Mr. Brahn.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna see Mr. Brahn.”

Gavin glanced at Sara. “Mr. Brahn is a therapist. To help with the grief,” he added in a low voice and walked toward Sam. “Hey, bud, we both need to go.”

Sam stuck out his lower lip. “Mr. Brahn is boring. Don’t wanna—”

“Ice cream or video game?” Sara whispered to Gavin.

Gavin glanced at her. “What?” he asked.

“Just a thought,” she said. “Maybe after your appointment, you could do something fun.”

He stood for a moment then nodded. “Good idea,” he said then turned to Sam. “Ice cream or video game afterward?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Can I have both?”

Gavin chuckled. “Only one,” he said and scooped his son into his arms.

“Ice cream,” Sam said.

Gavin sent a sideways glance at Sara. “This could make bedtime more difficult.”

Sara smiled. “I’m sure Adelaide will be asleep by the time you return, so it will be easier dealing with just one,” she said, hoping that would be true. “If you need to know where to go, there’s a wonderful gelato place downtown on Geneva Street.”

“Geneva Gelato?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Have you been there?”

“No. Just sounded right,” he said. “What flavor is the best?”

“The hazelnut chocolate is to die for. Best in the world, with the exception of Italy, of course,” she said.

“You’ve traveled the whole world?” he asked, studying her.

His scrutiny made her nervous. She resisted biting her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s an expression. Try it and let me know what you think.”

Sara watched the duo head out the door and turned to Adelaide. “How about a bath and a bottle?” she asked the baby, carrying her toward the kitchen sink. Princess Bridget of the royal Devereaux family had taken Sara under her wing so that Sara could learn some of the finer points of how to care for babies and active boys. Since Bridget had given birth to a baby girl less than a year ago and was the mother of two adopted boys, she was quite informed.

After cleaning the sink, Sara placed a towel in the bottom of it and filled it partway with warm water. She undressed Adelaide and put her into the bath. She tried to take the washcloth away from the baby, but Adelaide screamed in protest. “All right, all right. You can keep it. Let’s just try not to get soap on it.”

Sara talked the entire time about nothing in particular. Princess Bridget had told her that talking soothed and reassured infants while bathing. After the bath, she dried off Adelaide and dressed her in clean clothing and negotiated an exchange for a fresh washcloth.

Rechecking the schedule Gavin had given her, she saw that it was still too early for Adelaide’s bottle and bedtime, so she attempted to read a book. Adelaide fussed and kicked in protest. “Not in the mood for reading,” she muttered and walked around the house.

The sight of the piano jumped out at her. “Well, why not?” she asked. “The most you can do is howl at my playing.”

Placing Adelaide in her infant rocker next to the piano, Sara sat down on the bench and looked down at the keyboard. A combination of excitement and relief snapped through her. Playing had been a solace for her for as long as she could remember.

She played a couple of scales to familiarize herself with the springiness of the keys and the tuning. Gavin had been correct. A few keys were off, but she was so happy to play she didn’t care. “I know Mozart is supposed to be good for kids, but I’m going to play it safe with Bach. I’m sure you’ll let me know your thoughts on Bach’s Goldberg Variations.”

Sara played and since no screaming commenced, she continued for fifteen minutes. When she stopped and turned to glance at Adelaide, the baby was sitting calmly and seemed to have forgotten the need for her washcloth. Sara smiled and picked up the baby from the carrier. “Good girl. Bach has been soothing the savage beast in all of us for many years. Time for your bottle.”

Adelaide drank her formula, Sara rocked her for a few minutes, then placed the baby in her crib. She made sure the baby monitor was turned on and walked quietly from the room. Exhaustion hit her and she let out a heavy sigh. She realized this was only the first day of being a nanny, but she hadn’t expected the job to completely sap her energy. What a wimp. It was just eight o’clock and more than anything, she wanted to go to bed.

Instead, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch, blinking her eyes so she would stay awake.

* * *

Gavin ushered Sam in the door of the cottage. They’d returned much later than he’d intended, but the palace had ordered road construction on a twenty-four-hour basis. Despite the limited population of the Mediterranean island, there’d been a ton of traffic tonight.

Sam proudly carried the small white bag holding a cup of mostly melted gelato for Sara. He darted toward the den and skidded to a halt. He glanced up at Gavin. “She’s fast asleep,” Sam said in a loud whisper, using the language from some of the books Gavin and his mother had read to him.

Gavin gazed at the new nanny to his children and felt a shot of sympathy. He could understand her exhaustion. Between Sam’s fear of new people and Adelaide’s general crankiness, he’d wondered if he should ask for two nannies instead of one. He stepped closer to Sara, taking in the sight of her. Faint blue circles shadowed her eyes, but her skin was like ivory porcelain. Her dark eyelashes spread like fans under her closed eyelids and a heavy strand of her dark hair covered one eye. Her pink lips parted slightly, almost as if in invitation.

Her body was slim, but hinted at the warm curves of a woman. A thud of awareness settled in his gut, startling him. He shook it off. Heaven knew he had no room for those kinds of thoughts. His kids needed him and he needed to get himself centered. Gavin and his late wife had grown apart during the past couple of years. They’d tried to put things back together—that was how Adelaide had happened. But he’d been concerned when Lauren had gotten pregnant again because she’d suffered from postpartum depression after she’d given birth to Sam. Even though he knew Lauren’s death had been an accident, he still couldn’t shake his feeling of guilt. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

Sam nervously clutched the paper bag between his hands. Sara’s eyes fluttered at the sound and she glanced up at both of them. She winced and straightened. “Oh, no. I fell asleep. What time is it?”

Gavin glanced at his watch. “Ten after eight,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, laughing. “Eight-minute nap. Ten at the most. Welcome back. Shall I pour you some tea?” she asked Gavin. “Would you like something to drink, Sam?”

“I’m not a big tea drinker,” Gavin said. “We’ll both take water. Sam has something for you.”

Sara looked at Sam and saw the paper bag he held. She smiled and clapped her hands together. “Oh, don’t tell me what it is. Let me guess,” she said. “Is it pizza?”

Sam shook his head.

“Is it cheese and crackers?”

Sam shook his head.

“Is it a bunny?”

Sam shook his head and his little mouth lifted in a grin. “Here,” he said, offering the bag to her.

She opened the bag and pulled out the small cup of gelato and took off the top. She dipped her head and took a swipe with her tongue. “Hazelnut. My favorite. Thank you so much. What kind did you have?”

“Chocolate and marshmallow,” Sam said.

“I took your advice and got the hazelnut. You were right. It’s pretty good. You’d probably better eat that quickly. We got caught in road construction, so it’s melted.”

“Just nice and soft. Let me get your water,” she said as she headed for the kitchen.

As soon as she left, Sam turned to him. “She’s pretty, but she’s a terrible guesser.”

Gavin couldn’t shut off his awareness of her presence. It wasn’t all bad. She smiled easily and something about her made everything feel a little less dark and gloomy. She talked with Sam even though he rarely gave her a verbal response.

“Go to bed,” Gavin told her although it was early. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

She nodded. “So it is. Shall I put Sam to bed?”

Gavin shook his head. “No. That’s my treat. I’ll take the first middle-of-the-night wake-up, but I’d appreciate it if you would take the second.”

Her eyes widened. “Two wake-ups?”

He shrugged. “We’re still adjusting.”

“Then I’ll try to be ready. Good night, Sam. Thank you for the delicious gelato.”

Sam nodded and Gavin nudged his son. “Say you’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam echoed in a small voice.

“Sweet sleep to both of you,” she said, and then she left the room.

* * *

Sometime when it was dark, Sam awakened. He felt panic overtake him. His heart raced. He glanced toward the cartoon night-light and took a deep breath.

He took more deep breaths and thought about his mother. She had left, then never come home again. He missed her so much. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Sliding out of his bed, he silently scampered to his father’s room. The door wasn’t closed all the way. Sam pushed it open and went inside. His father was on his back, softly snoring.

Sam felt a sliver of relief. He watched his father for several more moments. Then he wandered down the hall to the new nanny’s bedroom. Her door was also open. He wandered inside and saw her sleeping on her side. He heard an odd sound. It took a moment for him to figure out what it was.

The ocean. Waves. He loved that sound.

He loved the sound so much he wanted to hear it more. He decided to lie down on the carpet. Sam wished he had a blanket, but he liked the sound more than he missed his blanket.

As the swooshing sound continued, he calmed down and felt droopy and sleepy. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep.

* * *

Sara awakened to an unfamiliar sound. She heard a series of humming and grunting sounds and frowned as she shifted in her bed. Staring into the darkness, she saw a small figure on her floor. It took a moment for her to figure out who it was. Sam.

Sliding from her bed, she picked him up and held him against her. He startled.

“It’s okay. I’m your nanny. Sara,” she said, walking toward his room.

“But—”

Gavin appeared in the hallway. “What happened? I usually find him sleeping on the floor of my bedroom.”

“He was in my bedroom.”

Gavin gathered his son into his arms. “What’s up, bud?”

“I liked the waves,” he said.

Gavin looked at her curiously.

“My sound machine,” Sara said. “I keep it on an ocean setting.” She looked toward Sam and stroked his forehead. “Would you like to hear the waves at night?”

He nodded.

“Done,” she said. Then she went and moved her sound machine to Sam’s bedroom.

With his hands on his hips, Gavin stood looking at his son. Protecting his son, she thought. His stance tugged at her heart. She couldn’t remember a time she’d awakened to the sight of her father watching over her. Stop, she told herself, closing her eyes. Her life was all about now and the future. No whining about the past.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and found Gavin staring at her. He crooked a finger at her and pointed toward the hallway. She followed him outside the door of Sam’s bedroom.

“That’s a first,” Gavin said. “For six months Sam has been coming into my bedroom and staring at me, making sure I’m not going to leave him forever. The way, in his eyes, his mother did.”

Her heart twisted at his words. “He’s had a hard time. You’ve all had a hard time.”

Gavin gave a slow nod, and she was all too aware of his height, his power, his masculinity. “Yeah, we have. Who would have known a sound machine would make such a difference?”

She shrugged, knowing that the sound machine was her secret to a good night’s sleep. “Yeah. Who would have known?”

“Thank you,” he said, lowering his head toward hers.

She caught her breath.

He squeezed her arm. “Get some sleep.”

Sara nearly collapsed in a combination of relief and strange disappointment. She stared after him and felt a flip in her stomach. Yes, she definitely needed more sleep.

Hours later, she heard the sound of Gavin’s voice. She immediately sat up in her bed. His voice was coming from the nursery. She glanced at the clock in her room. Seven thirty.

Sara leaped from her bed and ran into the nursery. “Problems?” she asked. “I can’t believe I slept this late.”

Gavin, still wearing pajamas, was changing Adelaide’s diaper. “She hasn’t slept this long in forever. She wet through her diaper to her sheets.”

“Oops,” she said.

Gavin shrugged. “It’s a good problem. Did you do something different with her bedtime routine?”

“I played a little Bach on the piano,” she said.

Gavin glanced at her. “Must have worked.”

She shrugged. “We can hope.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Can I take a quick shower?”

“Sure,” he said. “You’re due that after the past twenty-four hours.”

Sara grabbed a quick shower, rubbed herself dry and wrapped her hair in a towel for two minutes. Pulling on her clothes, she ditched the towel and pulled her hair into a wet knot at the back of the neck, all the while resolving to take her bath at night. She’d just been too tired last night.

Racing into the kitchen, she smiled her best smile. “I’m here for duty,” she said.

Three pairs of brown eyes stared back at her full of hope, fear and expectation.

“All right. Let’s get going.”

“You’re a brave woman,” Gavin said. He was dressed to head out the door. “Or crazy,” he muttered as he handed Adelaide over to her. “Just tell me you’ll last the week.”

Sara blinked. “Week? I thought this was at least a two-or three-month assignment.”

“Yes. Of course. Three months,” Gavin said. “Call me if you need me,” he added as he headed out the door.

“But you don’t really want me to call you, do you?” she said.

He paused just before he closed the door behind him. “Truth...” he said, turning around to face her. “I’m grateful for all you’ve already done. Call me for anything.”

Her heart took a strange twist and turn. He was a great father. Maybe even a great human being.