pushing babies in strollers or carrying them close to their chest in padded holders. Several of the mothers were rather pretty.
He caught the eye of a striking brunette walking toward him with her baby in a sling. She smiled and it occurred to him that she might be a single mother.
“Cute baby,” she said. “Is that your daughter?”
“Yup.” He could tell she wanted him to stop and talk. It would be so easy to do. He’d start by admiring her baby, then shift to a compliment about the mother’s smile.
He kept walking.
Yummy mummies were fun to look at, but they weren’t his style. Besides, since the breakup of his marriage, he’d been taking a little hiatus from women.
Nick ambled to the end of the street, then crossed to the park. To his right was a nicely maintained trail—the city even plowed off the snow in the winter.
He pushed the stroller, following the path along the river for a while until coming to a playground. A handful of kids were riding on the swings and scrambling over the monkey bars. Their mothers huddled on a park bench nearby, sipping from insulated coffee mugs and chatting.
Mandy sat forward in her seat, enchanted by the sight of the kids playing. She was too young to join them, of course, but he took her out of her stroller so she could have a better view.
She seemed fascinated.
But then she was equally intrigued by a handful of snow, an acorn, a dried-up brown leaf. Each treasure he presented to his young daughter seemed to fully occupy her senses until, finished exploring, she tossed the object to the ground.
Like the toys.
Now he understood. It wasn’t that Mandy didn’t like her toys. They bored her.
She was into new things. Learning about the world. And it was his job, as her parent, to make all the necessary introductions.
When he’d run out of things to show her, Nick put Mandy back into the stroller. He decided to take a fork in the path, going into an off-leash dog area in the woods. He pointed out a bird’s nest exposed in a winter-bare tree, a chattering squirrel, rabbit tracks in the snow. Though she couldn’t possibly understand, Mandy seemed to love it when he explained all this to her. She soaked in every new experience, waving her arms and babbling.
The off-leash route circled back to their starting point and as he was merging onto the main path, he heard dogs barking, then a sharp whistle. He turned and saw the neighborhood dog-sitter, Bridget Humphrey, emerging from a curve in the path, with her pack of four dogs. She bent to pluck something from the graying Airedale’s leg.
“Poor Stanley. Why do you always find the burrs? Stand still for a minute. There’s a good boy.”
As she dealt with Stanley’s coat, three other dogs—a boxer, a white terrier and a giant schnauzer—circled her. When she was finished with Stanley, she clipped him back on the lead, then called the boxer closer.
He watched, impressed as always with the quiet authority she held over the dogs. He’d met Bridget on moving day when she’d brought over cookies to welcome him to the neighborhood. “We’ll get along fine,” she said, “as long as you don’t mind dogs.”
He loved dogs. Always had. One day he was going to break down and buy one himself. Bridget had already promised to make room in her doggy day care when he did.
Sometimes, when he happened upon Bridget and the dogs at the park, he walked along with them for a while. He enjoyed throwing sticks for them in the off-leash area and tussling on the grass when the weather was fine.
Bridget was just reaching for the collar of the schnauzer—Nick’s favorite—when Herman spotted Nick. He gave one sharp bark of recognition, then set off running.
“Herman, stop!” Bridget called. Immediately the big gray dog jerked to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder at Bridget, then longingly toward Nick.
Nick had already positioned himself between the dogs and his daughter. He’d seen them with kids before, knew they were gentle and well trained, but he wasn’t taking chances.
Three seconds later, Bridget and the other dogs caught up to Herman. Bridget snapped the schnauzer onto the lead. “Sorry, Nick.” She sounded breathless. “I should have put them back on leash sooner.”
“No harm done.” He held out a hand so the dogs could sniff. As he gave each dog a bit of attention, Bridget went to say hello to Mandy. His daughter was squirming with excitement.
“Can I take Mandy out of the stroller for a minute?”
“Sure.” Herman nuzzled his hand, demanding more scratch time. As Nick complied, Bridget swung Mandy in the air, making her laugh.
“Oh, she’s a sweetie, Nick. She wants to pet the dogs. Should I let her?”
“Sure.”
Lefty, a sweet boxer who especially loved kids, approached and licked her little fingers. Mandy giggled.
“I think I’ve got a dog-lover on my hands,” Nick said.
“Just like her dad.” Bridget pushed her sunglasses up on her head and smiled at him.
He didn’t often get a look at Bridget’s eyes because she usually wore sunglasses. But when he did he was always startled that such a nondescript woman should have such gorgeous eyes. They were large and vibrantly green, like new leaves in the spring. Most intriguing of all, they slanted up at the edges, giving her ordinary face a mysterious allure.
“Not to be nosy,” she said, “but why aren’t you at work?”
“I booked the day off. My ex left for Australia today.”
“Really? That’s a big trip.”
“Yeah, and she’s going to be gone for three weeks.” Which reminded him of his number-one problem. “Do you know of any good day cares in our neighborhood?”
“Sunny’s Day Care is the best. But she has a six-month waiting list.”
“Cripes. Any other suggestions?”
“What about your mom?”
“She’s great with Mandy for an hour or two, but a whole day is out of the question. Have you heard about any other day cares?”
“Most of the good ones have waiting lists. Even I have a waiting list for new dogs.”
“Yeah? How about babies? I don’t suppose you could take on one of those?”
“You’re not serious?”
“I don’t know about serious. I am desperate, though.”
She bit her bottom lip. Was she actually considering saying yes?
“I’d pay you well. And it’s only for three weeks.” He hesitated, suddenly wondering if she could handle the job. Babies were a bit more complicated than dogs. “Have you looked after
