I need a change.”
“How so?”
Once again grief threatened to rise up and engulf her. To buy herself enough time to regain control, she paced to the French doors and stood with her back to him so that he couldn’t see the sudden shine of tears in her eyes. “Any nurse working in a critical care unit will tell you that professional burnout is common,” she said, fighting to subdue the quiver in her voice. “You might think we become inured to death, but we don’t. And when those touched by it are children, the stress factor is particularly severe.”
She paused, hating the fact that she was about to add another lie to those she’d already told him. Deceit did not come easily and she wished she dared tell him the whole truth. But it was too soon. The risks were too great. “I felt it was time for me to take a break.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Bennett, and I sympathize. But my first priority is my ward’s welfare and I wonder how ably you will meet his needs feeling as you do. He needs a great deal of emotional support right now. How well do you think you can supply that, considering your own admittedly fragile state?”
“Just because I feel the need for a change doesn’t alter the fact that I love children,” she said, thankful to be on completely honest ground again. “And you may depend on me always to put your ward’s interests ahead of my own.”
“I shall hold you to that.”
She dared to look at him again then, hope surging within her breast. “Are you telling me I have the job?”
“Not quite. Before we make that decision, I think you must meet Tom.”
Yes! “That would be sensible,” she said soberly. “No point in reaching any decisions until we see how we get along.”
As if there was any doubt that she wouldn’t adore him on sight!
“I’ll get him,” the Commander said, stuffing her résumé and references back into the envelope and handing it to her. “He might be a bit shy with you—he’s seen a lot of strangers in the last week and is obviously confused—but I’m sure you’ll allow for that.”
“Of course.”
He was gone for several minutes. Aware of the slender hold she had on her emotions, and knowing that the Commander would pick up on any false move, Nicole spent the interval schooling herself to composure. She had just this one last hurdle to clear. No matter what it cost her, she must present a calm and reassuring front if she wanted to convince him beyond any doubt that she was the best possible nanny for Tommy.
She thought she had succeeded. She thought that all the years of working in ICU would stand her in good stead. This, after all, was a healthy little child, not some poor, sickly soul with no future. But when the door opened and she saw the boy in the Commander’s arms, she forgot everything: her training, her rehearsing, her lies. Everything.
“This is Tom, Miss Bennett.”
Instead of saying something rational like, “Hello, Tommy, it’s nice to meet you,” Nicole pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop its trembling and whispered, “Oh! Oh, I knew he would be beautiful, but I had no idea he’d be so completely perfect!”
“Wait until he’s woken you up at five in the morning three days in a row, before you decide that,” the Commander said dryly, swinging Tommy to the floor.
The child staggered a little against his uncle’s knee and regarded Nicole from big solemn eyes. His face was flushed with sleep and his hair damp on one side from perspiration. A worn baby quilt trailed from one dimpled hand.
The need to hold him, to press his sweetly rounded little body close to her heart, left Nicole aching. But she dared not gratify that need; the tears simmered too close to the surface, threatening to gush forth and destroy the image she’d struggled so hard to present. Instead she turned aside, quickly, before the spasm contorting her features gave her away, rummaged blindly in her bag for a tissue, and dabbed at her nose.
“Forgive me,” she said, praying the Commander hadn’t noticed anything amiss. “I thought I felt a sneeze coming on but it changed its mind.”
“You have a cold, perhaps?”
“No,” she hastened to assure him. “I’m as healthy as the proverbial horse.” Then before she gave rise to any other suspicions, she squatted down and drummed up a smile for Tommy. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m Nicole.”
“Hi,” he said, and she thought that if angels spoke, they would sound just as he did.
“That’s a really nice quilt you’ve got. Do you take it to bed with you?”
“Yes,” he said, detaching himself from his uncle’s leg and advancing a step or two closer to her. “It’s my dee-dee.”
“It’s a blanket, Tom,” the Commander said, kindly enough. “Big boys don’t use baby talk. Let me see you shake hands with Miss Bennett.”
Heavenly days, the man had no more idea how to speak to a four-year-old than she had to an orangutan! “Why don’t you show me the garden, instead?” she said, sensing the child’s discomfort with the adult behavior expected of him. “If your uncle doesn’t mind...?”
Somewhat after the fact, she glanced at the Commander. “Not at all,” he said. “It will give you a chance to become better acquainted. Go ahead and show Miss Bennett the garden, Tom.”
“All right.” Tommy perked up. “But not the pool. I’m not allowed to go to the pool by myself. It’s against the rules.”
“Not the pool,” Nicole agreed. “I’d rather see the flowers, instead.”
He considered her for a moment, then came forward and took her hand. “I have a garden at home,” he told her chattily. “I planted seeds in it and watered them.”
“Did you?” she said, enchanted by him.
“Yes. And they grew as big as a tree.” He gestured grandly, his face alive with excitement.
“Now, Tom!” his “uncle” warned. “Remember we talked about exaggerating? Stick to the facts, please.”
Truly, she would need to tape her mouth shut if this was the man’s idea of dealing with a child of four! Swallowing the objections fairly itching to make themselves heard, Nicole gave Tommy’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
It didn’t console him. “I’m just teasing,” he said, the animation in his face seeping away and his lip trembling ominously. “Mommy laughs when I tease her. I want to see my mommy. Can I go home now?”
“He keeps asking me that,” the Commander muttered, a flash of panic sparking in his blue eyes, “and I don’t know quite what to tell him.”
“Since you’re so anxious to stick to the facts, perhaps you should tell him the truth,” she said, then turned again to her nephew. “You’re living here now, darling, but we can go and see your house sometime, if you like.”
“Will Mommy be there?” he asked, the question enough to bring the lump back to Nicole’s throat, bigger than ever.
“No,
