Baby On Her Doorstep. Rhonda Gibson
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His housekeeper, Mrs. Camelia Murphy, had warned him that he’d better come home with a nanny for Grace or she was quitting. She’d said she was too old to be chasing after a toddler. Unfortunately, Clint had to agree. She was a great housekeeper and cook, but when it came to running after a small child who raced around the house like the barn was on fire, well, Mrs. Murphy just didn’t have the stamina to do so.
Clint held Grace to his chest with one hand and tied the horse to the hitching post in front of the jailhouse with the other. He heard the door open and looked up, expecting to see his friend. Instead, a pretty woman with brown hair and red highlights that caught the noonday sun stood in the doorway. Big green eyes looked in his direction. She held a little girl on her hip and smiled.
The sheriff followed her out on to the porch. “I’m looking forward to hearing what Mrs. Potter has to say about the little one.”
“I’ll let you know.” She turned and walked down the boardwalk away from him.
To Clint her voice sounded almost like a song. It was soft with just the right cadence to make him pay attention. He watched her walk down the wooden walkway. Grace stirred against him, reminding him that he had better things to do than stare after a pretty lady.
He turned to find the sheriff watching him. “What brings you into town, Clint?”
“I need a nanny, Matt. Mrs. Murphy is threatening to quit. This little girl can be a handful.”
The sheriff laughed and stepped back inside his office. “Come on inside. I might have just the person you need.”
Clint followed. “Who?”
Matt walked to his desk and sat down. He propped his boots up and pushed his hat back. “Well, that lady who caught your eye a few moments ago comes to mind.”
Caught his eye? No, Clint had vowed after his wife Martha’s death not to become involved with a woman again. Martha had died from an infection shortly after having Grace. Clint didn’t think he could go through that heartache again. And no pretty face was going to change that.
Clint frowned. Instead of dwelling on his wife’s death or his fear of being hurt again, he asked, “What makes you think she’d like to be a nanny?”
“Well, for starters she’s the schoolteacher here in town and loves children.”
Clint rubbed his chin where Grace’s hair tickled it. “That is nice, but does she want to stop teaching?”
The sheriff shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the school is closed for the next couple of months for planting season. She might be interested in earning some extra money, and it would give you more time to search for a real nanny.”
Clint thought for a few moments. Did he want a temporary nanny? She could be a quick solution to his current problem, but he’d have to find a replacement for her. Still, like his friend said, it would give him more time to find a suitable nanny, and Mrs. Murphy wouldn’t quit if he brought home a nanny for Grace.
The sheriff chuckled. “What have you got to lose, Clint? Or, you could ask any of our unwed women to come out to your ranch. I know of at least two who would love to marry you, and then you wouldn’t need a nanny for little Grace.”
Clint ignored Matt’s joke about the other women and focused on the one he’d just seen. The last thing he wanted was another wife. “Do you know if she’s looking for work?” Clint shifted Grace into a more comfortable position.
“There’s only one way to find out. Go ask her.” He picked up a faded wanted poster and studied the picture.
“Where does she live? I’ll tell her you recommended her.” He waited to see what kind of reaction Matt would have.
Matt looked up. “She lives at the boardinghouse on the corner of Elm and Third Street.” He pushed his hat back on his head. “I don’t reckon you noticed she was carrying a little girl, did you?”
So, they lived at the same boardinghouse. It was his experience that only single people lived in boardinghouses. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matt might be interested in the pretty green-eyed lady romantically himself. Maybe that’s why she’d been visiting his office. It was possible she was sweet on the good sheriff. But then again, like Matt had just pointed out, she had a small child with her. “I did. Is she married?”
Matt chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “No, she’s a widow now. Her name is Laura Lee. Laura’s a fine woman who loves children.”
“That’s good enough for me. I don’t mind her having a child.” He rubbed his chin across Grace’s feather-soft baby head. “I like them.”
Matt grinned. “I’m glad.”
Clint realized how silly his words must sound to the bachelor sheriff, who had no children. “Well, I’ll be heading over to the boardinghouse. Is it all right if I leave Shadow and the wagon tied to your hitching post for a while?”
The sheriff nodded. “How long are you in town for?”
“I’ll be here as long as it takes to get a nanny. Mrs. Murphy has threatened to quit if I return home alone.” He hugged Grace close. “In her words...” Using his best imitation of Camelia’s Irish accent, he continued, “‘A two-year-old is too active for a woman in her sixties who has a house to run and meals to cook. You’d best be sure to find someone, Mr. Shepard, or I will be going to live with my cousin, Darby. And you know I’ll do it, too.’”
Matt laughed. “I can just hear her. Did she shake her finger at you?”
“Yep. So I’m hoping it doesn’t take more than a day or two to find just the right person. I want someone who will be good to Grace. If she doesn’t like Mrs. Lee, I’ll keep looking.”
Concern filled Matt’s face. “What about the ranch?”
“It will be all right for a couple of days. I left Richard Turner in charge.”
Matt rubbed his chin. “Yep, Rich is a good man.”
Richard was a good man. He had lost his wife to the fever that had swept the town the year before Grace had been born. If it hadn’t been for Richard, Clint wasn’t sure how he would have continued running the ranch after Martha’s death. Grief had seemed to fill his brain with a dense fog, and he’d had a new infant to care for.
Clint opened the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes with Mrs. Lee when I come back for the wagon.”
Matt nodded and returned his focus to the wanted posters. Clint closed the door and turned toward Elm Street. He grinned, pleased with the fact that finding a potential nanny hadn’t been so hard after all. And if Mrs. Lee took the job, he felt pretty sure that she’d be more interested in taking care of his daughter than landing a rancher husband for herself.
Matt didn’t seem to view her as a potential bride, but