new friend beamed at the girl, who threw her arms around the woman’s waist. “Hannah Lewis,” she exclaimed as she hugged her back. “Hello! Look how tall you are! And your hair’s gotten long. It’s still such a beautiful color. Are you sure we can’t trade?”
The girl giggled and tossed her red braids. “I haven’t seen you in forever! Since last summer, anyway. Are you going to be back teaching this year? I hope so! Mrs. Chatterton, the lady who replaced you, is nice and stuff but not as nice as you. My brother’s going into the second grade, and he was so sad that you weren’t going to be his teacher. Maybe now you can be!”
For a moment, sadness flickered across the woman’s lovely features, but she appeared to make an effort to wipe it away.
“I’m afraid I’m not coming back to Haven Point Elementary right now.”
“Why not? Don’t you like being a teacher? You’re so good at it! I liked having my third-grade teacher last year, Mrs. Morris, and I learned my multiplication tables really good from her, but you’re still my favorite.”
Miss Bailey—at least he had that much of a name—looked touched. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Hannah. Thank you. I’m afraid I’m not back to stay, only for a month, for my sister’s wedding. I’ll be gone again before school starts up in the fall.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Hannah looked as if she wanted to say more, but her mother called her over with a smile and friendly wave at Miss Bailey. “I’d better go. My dad’s waiting in the van, and we told him we would only be a second. Bye.”
“Good to see you, sweetheart.”
She hurried away, and Bowie finally spoke. “You’re a teacher. That’s why you knew just what to do with Milo.”
She looked down at the boy, who was fully concentrating on trying to twist together three ties from the produce bag rack.
“I was a teacher. I taught second grade at Haven Point Elementary School for three years. Well, I guess I’m still a teacher. I’ve spent the last year teaching English in South America. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before I took off with Milo to buy cherries. I’m Katrina Bailey.”
“Bailey. Any relation to Mike, who runs the auto body shop?”
“That’s my uncle—and my stepfather. It’s a long story.”
He held out a hand. “Bowie Callahan. You’ve met my brother, Milo.”
She shook his hand, not bothering to hide the surprise in her expression. “Your brother.”
“Half brother. That’s an even longer story.”
“Well, Bowie and Milo, it was nice to meet you. I should go finish my shopping.”
He didn’t want her to leave suddenly. “Thank you for stepping in. Milo can be...difficult.” That was an understatement that didn’t begin to describe his obstinate sibling.
“No problem. Welcome to Haven Point.”
She started to push her cart away, but Milo raced after her and held out the tangled twist tie.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it with a soft smile toward the boy. “Goodbye.”
Milo didn’t return her smile—Bowie would have been shocked if he had, since he rarely did—but he wiggled his fingers in return, which Katrina Bailey seemed to find charming.
She pushed her cart away, reaching for a bag of green onions on her way. As she did, Bowie’s brain sifted through the information he had just learned from and about her, and he realized in an instant that she could be exactly what they needed.
If he were the churchgoing sort, he would have called her the answer to his prayers.
“Wait,” he exclaimed.
Katrina turned at his overloud call. “Yes?”
“Did I just hear you’re only in town for a month?”
“That’s right,” she said warily. “My sister is getting married in a few weeks.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you might be looking for a temporary job while you’re in Haven Point.”
She stared at him. “A job.”
“I’m in the market for a temporary nanny.” He turned around, away from Milo, and lowered his voice. “As you probably figured out, my brother has some issues. He’s autistic.”
“He has autism.”
Right. People first, then the condition. He was working on remembering the correct PC terminology. “That’s right. He’s on the spectrum, apparently moderate to severe.”
“Apparently?” As he might have expected, she keyed in on that single word.
“That’s what the test results say, anyway.” He didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the produce section of the grocery store, but here they were and he felt he needed to be honest with her. “I only met Milo less than a month ago and don’t know anything about his previous history. He has no medical records, no school records. Nothing.”
Her eyebrows rose in clear skepticism. “That’s impossible. Was he raised in the jungle?”
“Close enough.” How else would a person describe Stella’s alternative, nonconformist, substance-loving lifestyle?
“Impossible or not, that’s the situation. Though his hearing is fine, Milo is mostly nonverbal, at least as far as we can tell. He can say no, but that’s it.” He didn’t tell her no was Milo’s favorite word and he employed it hundreds of times a day.
“He has obvious behavioral challenges,” Bowie went on. “We’ve seen a couple of specialists over the last three weeks and they place him somewhere on the spectrum, but exactly where is tough to say. I only know he’s a difficult kid. I’ve been through three nannies in three weeks. The last one quit yesterday.”
That was why Bowie found himself in the supermarket, dealing with a meltdown he couldn’t handle.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t see how it concerns me. I’m only home to visit my family.”
“I’ve hired a new nanny who is an autism specialist and is supposed to be the top of her field, but she can’t be here for three weeks. I’ll be honest with you, Miss Bailey. I can’t take three weeks off work right now, and I’m desperate to find someone to help with him.”
She arched one of those expressive eyebrows. “So you decided to accost stray women in the supermarket and offer the job to them?”
He had the oddest feeling Katrina Bailey didn’t like him, though he couldn’t figure out exactly what he had done. “Not just any stranger,” he pointed out. “A woman who instinctively knew the right thing to do with Milo, where everyone else seems to flounder—and a schoolteacher who has already been vetted by the school system.”
“I haven’t taught in
