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.
