that he was in over his head.
“I’m not planning on it,” he said quietly. “But while she’s with me, I’m going to need a hand.”
Malory didn’t answer, and when he glanced back at her, he found her gaze fixed on his face, her expression conflicted.
“You don’t like that,” he concluded.
“I’m not judging,” she said with a shake of her head. “I think you’re making the best decision you can.”
Mike shrugged. He wished he were equally convinced. He refused to let the girl go into the child welfare system, but he did hope that a family—far away from Katy’s own dogged beginnings—might want to adopt her.
“Well, I can pay what you’ve asked,” he said, his tone turning professional. “Katy seems to really like you. Is there anything else I should know?” He fixed her with an appraising stare.
“No, you have all the pertinent information.”
He paused for a moment, sorting through his impressions of her. She had more to her story, he could tell, but she came up clean in background check. Except for running a stop sign a few years ago, that was, but he could probably forgive her if that was the worst of her vices.
“When can you start?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“Great. You’re hired.”
A smile split her face, sparkling through her brown eyes. She was prettier than he’d been hoping for in a nanny. Too pretty to make this entirely comfortable. With a nod, he poured a cup of the promised coffee and slid it to her across the counter.
“Here you go,” he said. “Your room will be upstairs next to Katy’s bedroom. I hope that will be okay.”
“It’ll be great. Thank you very much, Sheriff—”
“Call me Mike.”
“Mike.” She shook his hand, and her soft fingers lingered in his grip. Then she pulled free and picked up her mug. “If it’s okay, I’ll get moved in today.”
* * *
SUNLIGHT SPILLED THROUGH the windowpane, pooling on the hardwood floor. Malory looked around the little bedroom. A handmade quilt covered a single bed. It looked like a rag quilt, composed of different fabrics with no apparent pattern, but it was cozy nonetheless. A whitewashed wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, a wicker chair angled next to it with a pile of fresh towels on the seat. A full-length mirror hung on one wall, and a twisted rag rug lay next to the bed, completing the homey decor.
The bedroom was on the second floor of the rambling old house. This property was large and rural, so the neighbors were out of sight. It was peaceful, and she paused to listen to a bird twittering happily outside the window that overlooked the spacious backyard. Two large trees provided shade, and an overrun flower garden lined one side of a low white picket fence.
The whole scene was almost impossibly perfect, Malory thought. It reminded her of the house she used to dream about when she was a little girl, sitting alone in the small apartment after school while she waited for her mother to finish work. She used to imagine the perfect home—bright, airy, cozy, well loved. In winter, she’d picture the fireplace, roaring with heat. In the summer, she’d daydream about the backyard, dappled in sunlight.
Malory unzipped her suitcase, pulling her mind back to the present. She had a job to do.
“Nanny Mal?”
She turned to see Katy in the doorway, her worn bear clutched in her grasp and a sieve planted on her head like a little army helmet.
“Hi, sweetie.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the solemn expression. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“My room is right next to yours,” Malory said. “And if you ever need me in the night, you can come right in, okay?”
Katy nodded, then crept closer to the suitcase and peered inside. Malory pulled out some clothes and brought them to the wardrobe.
“What’s this?” Katy asked, holding up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Malory winced. Leave it to a toddler to zero in on the most personal, well-hidden items first.
“Those are just medicine I take to keep me healthy.”
“Oh.”
“And what’s this?” Katy reached into the suitcase and pulled out an envelope.
“That’s—” Malory sighed and took the envelope from Katy’s fingers. “Never mind. It’s boring grown-up stuff. Here—” Malory pulled a coloring book out of her things and passed it to her little charge. “I brought you something. Do you want to look at the pictures?”
Katy happily sat down to peruse the coloring book, and Malory opened the envelope and peeked inside at the sonogram. It was from her first ultrasound a few months earlier and it showed something the shape of a bean. But that little bean was her baby. She put a hand over her belly, feeling the soft tickle of her baby’s movement. At a little over four months along, she’d started feeling it only recently.
She’d expected to look a lot more pregnant than she already did, but she could still hide her condition quite successfully with the right clothes. She appeared plumper than usual, and her waist was definitely bigger, but she didn’t have that revealing baby bump yet. When was that supposed to happen? She had no idea. Regardless, her new boss hadn’t noticed her pregnancy, and she was relieved for that small mercy. She needed this job, and she knew what would happen if she announced her condition at the outset—the same thing that happened to other pregnant nannies. She’d end up jobless. While she knew that she’d have to go back to live with her mother when the baby was due, she was hoping to put that off as long as possible.
“Would you like some crayons?” Malory scooped up a box of them from the bottom of her suitcase and passed them to Katy, who beamed with delight.
“The sun is green,” Katy announced, pulling out a crayon and setting to work with large, jerking scribbles. “Green, green, green.”
“Not yellow?” Malory asked.
“No. Green.”
Malory chuckled. Well, why not? Why not have a green sun? Why couldn’t Katy make her own rules?
This pregnancy hadn’t been part of the plan. Malory was one of those people who planned everything. She was cautious. She was responsible. If she colored a sun, it was yellow. And then her boyfriend, Steve, told her that he didn’t love her after all and took off with her best friend. Well, ex–best friend, if she was going to get technical. Two weeks later, Malory missed her period. And with everything that happened after she let Steve know... Well, she didn’t want to dwell on it. Regardless, that left the financial responsibilities squarely on her own shoulders.
A tap on the door pulled her attention away from unpacking. Mike stood in the doorway. He’d changed out of his jeans and T-shirt and now stood in full uniform. A dark green button-up shirt tugged ever so slightly around his muscled biceps, paired with khaki dress pants. His heavy belt held a variety
