When Keely Ostergard entered the upstairs playroom, she found Daniel Bravo lying on the floor. His eighteen-month-old daughter, Frannie, sat beside him, rhythmically tapping his broad chest with a giant plastic spoon.
“Boom, Da-Da,” Frannie said. “Boom, boom, boom.”
Meanwhile, Jake, Frannie’s twin, stood at Daniel’s head on plump toddler legs, little hands over his eyes in a beginner’s attempt at peekaboo.
Watching them, Keely couldn’t help thinking that for a man who’d never wanted children of his own, Daniel sure was a dream with them. The guy rarely smiled, yet he lavished his kids with attention and affection.
“Boo!” cried Jake, followed by a delighted toddler belly laugh that had him toppling head over heels toward his father’s face. Daniel caught him easily and started to tickle him, bringing more happy chortling from Jake.
Frannie spotted Keely first. “Keewee!” She dropped her spoon, lurched to her feet and toddled across the floor with her little arms wide.
Keely scooped her up. She smelled so sweet, like vanilla and apples. “How’s my girl?”
Frannie’s reply was almost in English. “I goo.”
Daniel sat up, Jake still in his arms. “Keely.” He looked a little worried at the sight of her. She came by often to see the kids, but she’d always called first. Not this time. He asked, “Everything okay?”
“Absolutely.” She kissed Frannie’s plump cheek. “Sorry, I know I should have called.” But if she’d called and said she would like to speak with him, he would have asked what was going on, and she didn’t want to get into that until they were face-to-face. He could too easily blow her off over the phone.
Grace, Daniel’s youngest sister, who had answered the door at Keely’s knock, entered the playroom right then. “Keely needs to talk to you, Daniel.”
“Sure—down you go, big fella.” He set the giggling Jake on his feet.
“Come on, you two.” Grace took Frannie from Keely and held out her hand for Jake. “Bath time.” She set off, carrying Frannie and pulling Jake along, on her way to the big bathroom down the hall.
Daniel stood still in the middle of the floor, watching her. “How ’bout a drink?”
“Sounds good.”
Downstairs in the kitchen, he poured them each two fingers of very old scotch, neat. Keely wasn’t much of a drinker, and scotch wasn’t her favorite. But she had an offer to make, and she wanted him to say yes to it. Sharing a drink first might loosen him up a little.
She raised her glass and took a small sip. It burned going down, and she tried not to shudder. “Strong stuff.”
He looked at her sideways and grumbled, “Why didn’t you just say you hate scotch?”
“No. Really. It’s very good.”
He stared at her doubtfully for a couple of awkward seconds and then, with a shrug, he looked out the window. It was after seven on a cool Friday night in March, and already dark out. Beyond the glass, garden lights glowed golden through the thickening fog. Behind her, somewhere far out in the bay, down the tree-covered hill from the front of the house, a foghorn sounded.
Keely rested her hand on the cool, smooth soapstone counter. It was a beautiful kitchen. Her cousin, Lillie, had redone it with meticulous, loving care. It had lustrous heated wood floors in a herringbone pattern, a giant farm-style sink, twinkly glass backsplashes and chef-grade appliances.
Lillie.
Keely’s throat got tight just thinking of her. She’d died eighteen months ago, leaving behind two adorable newborn babies—and one very grim husband. For the last fifteen years or so, Daniel had hardly been what Keely would call a happy guy anyway, but since they lost Lillie, the man rarely cracked a smile.
She took another sip and inched up on the reason she’d stopped by. “So then, what will you do for childcare now?”
He shifted his gaze back to her. “What can I do? Guess I’ll try the nanny service again.”
Keely almost laughed, though it wasn’t all that funny. “Will you ask for the one with the alcohol problem or the one who gets sick all the time? Or maybe the one who’s in love with you?” Daniel was a Viking of a man, big and buff and really good-looking in his too-serious, borderline-broody way. It wasn’t the least surprising that one of the endless string of nannies and babysitters had decided she was meant to become a second mother to his children and show him how to heal his wounded heart.
He pinched the bridge of his manly nose as though he might be getting a headache. “Something will come up.” His eyes—of a rather eerie pale blue—had circles under them. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well lately.
Keely felt kind of guilty for teasing him. Okay, she harbored some animosity toward him for what had gone down between him and her cousin in the last months of Lillie’s life. But that was private stuff, husband-and-wife stuff, stuff Lillie had shared with Keely in strictest confidence.
Daniel wasn’t a bad guy. He’d just had to shoulder too much, too soon. On the plus side, he was a man you could count on—and pretty much everyone did. Keely needed to remember his good qualities whenever she felt tempted to blame him for making Lillie unhappy.
He was doing the best he could, and he did have a real problem. President and CEO of Valentine Logging, Daniel worked long hours. He needed reliable childcare for the twins. Yet the nannies came and went.
