squinted his eyes up at her. “Yeah,” he said skeptically.
Sara felt a ripple of challenge from that skeptical gaze. She frowned. “We’ll go to the beach soon. You’ll see.”
Sam glanced down at the stroller. “Adelaide’s asleep.”
“Oh, heavens. We need to get her back to her crib,” she said as she turned around.
“She’ll wake up as soon as we get home.”
“No. She won’t,” Sara insisted. “I just need to ease her into her crib.”
“She’s gonna wake up,” Sam said, knowingly.
Turned out, Sam was right.
The rest of the day was a blur. Adelaide napped, but not for very long. Sam dozed. Sara served the children an early dinner and they were all half watching television as Gavin walked in the door. Sam immediately snapped to attention.
“How did your first day go with Sara?” Gavin asked.
Adelaide kicked her feet and howled. Sara gave her a washcloth to chew on.
“She took us for a walk,” Sam said. “A long walk.”
“Good,” Gavin said and looked at Sara. “Everything okay?”
She moved her head in a circle because “okay” was relative. “Yes,” she managed. “I figured out that Adelaide is teething.”
Realization crossed his face. “Yeah. You’re so right. I should have figured that out sooner.”
“No problem,” Sara said. “She’ll just be chewing a cold washcloth for the first year of her life. Right, baby?” she said to Adelaide.
The baby frowned and chowed down on the washcloth.
“Good job,” he said, then looked at Sam. “Time for us to go see Mr. Brahn.”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna see Mr. Brahn.”
Gavin glanced at Sara. “Mr. Brahn is a therapist. To help with the grief,” he added in a low voice and walked toward Sam. “Hey, bud, we both need to go.”
Sam stuck out his lower lip. “Mr. Brahn is boring. Don’t wanna—”
“Ice cream or video game?” Sara whispered to Gavin.
Gavin glanced at her. “What?” he asked.
“Just a thought,” she said. “Maybe after your appointment, you could do something fun.”
He stood for a moment then nodded. “Good idea,” he said then turned to Sam. “Ice cream or video game afterward?”
Sam’s eyes lit up. “Can I have both?”
Gavin chuckled. “Only one,” he said and scooped his son into his arms.
“Ice cream,” Sam said.
Gavin sent a sideways glance at Sara. “This could make bedtime more difficult.”
Sara smiled. “I’m sure Adelaide will be asleep by the time you return, so it will be easier dealing with just one,” she said, hoping that would be true. “If you need to know where to go, there’s a wonderful gelato place downtown on Geneva Street.”
“Geneva Gelato?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Have you been there?”
“No. Just sounded right,” he said. “What flavor is the best?”
“The hazelnut chocolate is to die for. Best in the world, with the exception of Italy, of course,” she said.
“You’ve traveled the whole world?” he asked, studying her.
His scrutiny made her nervous. She resisted biting her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s an expression. Try it and let me know what you think.”
Sara watched the duo head out the door and turned to Adelaide. “How about a bath and a bottle?” she asked the baby, carrying her toward the kitchen sink. Princess Bridget of the royal Devereaux family had taken Sara under her wing so that Sara could learn some of the finer points of how to care for babies and active boys. Since Bridget had given birth to a baby girl less than a year ago and was the mother of two adopted boys, she was quite informed.
After cleaning the sink, Sara placed a towel in the bottom of it and filled it partway with warm water. She undressed Adelaide and put her into the bath. She tried to take the washcloth away from the baby, but Adelaide screamed in protest. “All right, all right. You can keep it. Let’s just try not to get soap on it.”
Sara talked the entire time about nothing in particular. Princess Bridget had told her that talking soothed and reassured infants while bathing. After the bath, she dried off Adelaide and dressed her in clean clothing and negotiated an exchange for a fresh washcloth.
Rechecking the schedule Gavin had given her, she saw that it was still too early for Adelaide’s bottle and bedtime, so she attempted to read a book. Adelaide fussed and kicked in protest. “Not in the mood for reading,” she muttered and walked around the house.
The sight of the piano jumped out at her. “Well, why not?” she asked. “The most you can do is howl at my playing.”
Placing Adelaide in her infant rocker next to the piano, Sara sat down on the bench and looked down at the keyboard. A combination of excitement and relief snapped through her. Playing had been a solace for her for as long as she could remember.
She played a couple of scales to familiarize herself with the springiness of the keys and the tuning. Gavin had been correct. A few keys were off, but she was so happy to play she didn’t care. “I know Mozart is supposed to be good for kids, but I’m going to play it safe with Bach. I’m sure you’ll let me know your thoughts on Bach’s Goldberg Variations.”
Sara played and since no screaming commenced, she continued for fifteen minutes. When she stopped and turned to glance at Adelaide, the baby was sitting calmly and seemed to have forgotten the need for her washcloth. Sara smiled and picked up the baby from the carrier. “Good girl. Bach has been soothing the savage beast in all of us for many years. Time for your bottle.”
Adelaide drank her formula, Sara rocked her for a few minutes, then placed the baby in her crib. She made sure the baby monitor was turned on and walked quietly from the room. Exhaustion hit her and she let out a heavy sigh. She realized this was only the first day of being a nanny, but she hadn’t expected the job to completely sap her energy. What a wimp. It was just eight o’clock and more than anything, she wanted to go to bed.
Instead, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch, blinking her eyes so she would stay awake.
* * *
Gavin ushered Sam in the door of the cottage. They’d returned much later than he’d intended, but the palace had ordered road construction on a twenty-four-hour basis. Despite the limited population of the Mediterranean island,
