up her spine. Surely it couldn’t be...
Even as she hopped out of her dad’s rusty pickup with the gash in the front end, the man from the Superette stepped from the vehicle. Ooh la la, he looked just as good as he had several hours ago and ready for business in his hand-tailored navy suit.
Smiling, Shannon crossed the gravel drive and extended her hand. “You must be Mr. Oliver?”
“Oliver Fortune Hayes,” he corrected, smiling slightly. “And you’re the helpful lady from the grocer’s.”
“Shannon Singleton.” She gave his hand a decisive shake. “Shep’s daughter. My dad said you wanted to check out the house.”
“Indeed.” Those amazing blue eyes settled on her, warm and friendly. “I appreciate you showing it on such short notice.”
What was left of her irritation vanished. “Happy to do it.”
He surprised her by turning back to the car. When he opened the back door and unfastened the boy from his car seat, she realized he hadn’t come alone. Once the child’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, the toddler looked around, gave an ear-splitting shriek and barreled after the corgi that had just leaped from the vehicle.
“That’s Ollie. My son,” Oliver told her, pride in his voice.
Oliver let the boy scamper a few yards before scooping him up. Ollie giggled and squirmed but settled when Oliver said something in a low tone.
“Barnaby.”
The crisp sound of his name had the corgi turning. Oliver motioned with his hand and the dog moved to his side.
He looked, Shannon thought, like a man totally in control of the situation.
Oliver gazed speculatively at the house. “Since your father knows I’m looking for immediate occupancy, I assume the home is empty.”
Shannon smiled. “You assume correctly.”
The entire tour of the furnished home took all of five minutes. If Shannon hadn’t been looking she might have missed the slight widening of Oliver’s eyes when he first stepped inside the three-bedroom, thirteen-hundred-square-foot ranch house Shannon’s grandparents had once called home.
Once she’d finished the tour, she rocked back on her boot heels, feeling oddly breathless. “What do you think?”
“I’ll take it.” Oliver put the boy down, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. “Sixty days with an option. I’ll pay in advance.”
“Just like that?” Decisiveness was one thing, but he hadn’t asked a single question. “Don’t you have any questions?”
“You’ve explained everything to my satisfaction.” He kept one eye on his son, who was hopping like a frog across the living room. “The fact is, I need to secure lodging close to my family.”
As Shannon opened her mouth, she wondered if she might be stepping over some line. But surely the man had other options. From what she’d observed of the Fortunes, they were a tight-knit family. “You’re not staying with them?”
“That was the plan. But apparently Amber—my brother’s fiancée—is highly allergic to dogs. As is my mother, which I’d very inconveniently forgotten.” He gestured with his head toward the corgi, who intently watched the hopping boy. “Ollie is very attached to Barnaby.”
“He’s a cutie. The boy, I mean. The dog is cute, too.” Shannon paused to clear the babble from her throat before continuing. “Will your wife be joining you?”
For just an instant a spark of some emotion flickered in his eyes before the shutter dropped.
“Ollie’s mother and I were divorced.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Well, Ms. Singleton?”
“Please call me Shannon.”
“Well, Shannon. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand.
When her fingers closed over his and a hot, unfamiliar riff of sensation traveled up her spine, something told Shannon that this deal might be more than she bargained for.
* * *
To Oliver’s way of thinking, money smoothed most rough patches and made life extremely manageable. Unfortunately, in the past few days he hadn’t found that to be as true as in the past. There hadn’t been anyone to carry in his bags or help him unpack once he’d closed the deal on the ranch house.
Oliver glanced around the small living room, smiling at the sight of Ollie playing with his A-B-C bricks, the dog supervising from his position under the kitchen table. The place was so small he could see the kitchen from where he stood. Unbelievably, there was only one lavatory in the entire structure.
Since it was just him and Ollie, even when they added a nanny, it would be workable. Not ideal, but they would make do, much the way he had on those school camping trips when he’d been a boy. He decided to view the next two months as an adventure.
Both Ollie and Barnaby seemed to like the small space. Even Oliver had to admit he found his temporary residence comfortable, quiet and surprisingly homey. Still, after two days of settling in, he was ready to get to work. For that to happen, he needed a nanny.
He’d made inquiries, as had various family members. So far, none of the women he’d interviewed had been acceptable. Oliver would also consider a manny, but when he’d mentioned that to the woman at the agency in Lubbock, her eyebrows had shot up. She informed him mannies were scarcer in Texas than rain in August.
Man or woman, Oliver didn’t care. He simply needed someone he could trust to tend to his son while he worked. He ran a busy brokerage firm in London. While he trusted and valued his employees, he prided himself on being personally involved with many of the firm’s larger clients.
Dealing with time zone issues was frustrating enough, but then to have Ollie call to him or start crying over his bricks tumbling down was totally unacceptable. There had to be someone suitable in the area.
His hopes of finding someone from Horseback Hollow were rapidly fading. Amber had given him a couple of names, neither of whom was willing to live in. What good would they be to him living a half hour away? With the time differences an issue, if he needed to go out or simply make a phone call, he didn’t want to wait.
The head of the placement agency guaranteed she’d find the perfect person, but kept asking him to give her more time. Well, he’d given her over two days. Since she couldn’t make it happen, he would take the reins.
He pulled out his wallet and removed the card Miss Shannon Singleton had given him to use in case of emergencies.
Oliver paused, considered. As far as he was concerned, being without a nanny for forty-eight hours qualified as an emergency.
* * *
Shannon stared at the phone in her hand for a second before dropping it into her bag.
Rachel slanted a questioning glance at her as they exited the movie theater in Vicker’s Corners. “Who was that?”
“Oliver
