this about Polly becoming a nanny?” Though Mary had barely discovered her pregnancy, she rubbed her own belly as she sat in one of the empty chairs.
“She’d like a life of her own, it seems,” Frank said, smiling at Polly. She imagined he was trying to be encouraging, but as she looked at her three expectant friends, she felt guilty knowing that she probably should stay here to help them.
Rose made a noise and patted her stomach again. “I had visions of that myself, and look where that got me. I suppose you’re taking a more respectable path, but don’t be fooled into thinking that the world is any better out there. At least here, you have a family who loves and supports you.”
“It’s not as though she’s running away with an outlaw, Rose, dear.” Annabelle gave her sister-in-law a pat on the shoulder as she moved to sit in another chair. Then Annabelle turned her attention to Mitch.
“I am assuming you’re not an outlaw, and that you’re a man of good character? Mary’s husband, Will, is a lawman, and I can assure you that if you engage in any funny business, he will bring you to justice.”
Poor Mitch looked overwhelmed, and she didn’t blame him.
“I’m sure Will would be happy to make some inquiries,” Mary said, smiling at Mitch in the same way she smiled at the children when giving them a subtle threat.
Except with so many people staring him down, Mitch could hardly think that any of them were being subtle.
Polly stood. “I’m sure Mr. Taylor is perfectly respectable. His brother runs Taylor’s Mercantile, and we all know how well he speaks of his other family members. Uncle Frank would have never brought him into our home had it been otherwise.”
Then she turned to Mitch. “Why don’t we go out back so we can check on the children and discuss terms of my employment?”
The creases in his forehead softened as he stood. “I think that’s a good idea. My children...”
He looked as though he wanted to say something about his children’s capabilities but then thought better of it. Polly bit back a giggle. Oh, if only he knew the sort of antics she’d put up with over the years. He was afraid of terrifying her, but after having endured questioning by her family, he should have realized that there wasn’t much that scared Polly.
Polly led him out the back door, not waiting for any of the others to catch up or comment. That was the other problem with being tied to her family. As much as she truly loved them, it seemed like none of them gave her the space to think for herself. To make her own choices.
Granted, some of the overprotectiveness was her own fault. Her failed romance was with a man who’d turned out to be an outlaw, and her blind trust in him had nearly cost Annabelle her life. Polly had failed to see the man’s interest in Annabelle, and when he’d kidnapped her, hoping to use her as leverage to gain access to a silver mine, Polly had looked the other way. No, not looked the other way. That implied a level of complacency Polly had lacked. Rather, Polly had been blinded by jealousy and thought Annabelle had stolen her beau.
Love, or at least the thought of being in love, had stolen Polly’s good sense. A common occurrence in these parts, since she’d seen too many love-struck women have their hearts broken by men interested in gambling, boozing and brothels. When she’d fallen for Tom, she’d been convinced he wasn’t like those men. She’d been only partially right. He might not have spent time in any of those places, but he’d been wicked all the same.
So it was no wonder none of her family and friends trusted her judgment. She questioned it herself. But this was not a romantic entanglement. Rather, it was legitimate, respectable employment.
No hearts to be broken here.
After all, Mitch was mourning the untimely death of his wife. The hint of gray at his temples suggested he was not the sort of man to be interested in her anyway. Although...if she’d been in a room with her friends, before their weddings, she might have indulged in a giggle or two over the fact that despite his age, Mitch Taylor was a handsome man indeed.
But he would not be interested in her. And while she was sure he was a perfectly respectable man, she was also certain that he was not free of secrets. Secrets that Polly would just as soon not involve herself with.
Mitch put his hand at her waist to steady her as she walked down the stairs. Though she’d walked down the stairs to the backyard plenty of times on her own before, there was something almost comforting about the warmth of his hand at her waist. Polly looked up at him, and he smiled.
Flecks of ice sparked in his deep blue eyes, and once again, she was struck by the hidden warmth within. It would be easy enough to believe in the fantasy that Mitch’s secrets were all about his hidden depth and warmth, but Polly knew better.
“Children!” Polly stepped out of Mitch’s reach and held her arms out. Her youngest sister, Caitlin, came running.
“We were good,” she said in a singsong voice. “Can we have some of the cookies Maddie was baking?”
The other children quickly followed, the chorus of voices joining Caitlin’s. But Polly noticed that the Taylor children hung back.
Polly stepped toward her charges and gave them a smile. “Did you have fun?”
The eldest, Louisa, glared at her, but the others hesitated. Nugget tugged at the back of her skirt. “They didn’t know any of our games.”
Polly turned toward Nugget. “Did you teach them?”
“No.” Nugget kicked at a rock. “They didn’t want to play.”
Polly put her arm around Nugget and turned her toward the Taylor children. “Do you remember when you first came here, and you didn’t know anyone?”
“People were mean to me, on account of my mama,” Nugget said quietly.
One of the twins, Clara, came forward. “People are mean to us, on account of our mama, too.”
Polly watched the expressions flash across the rest of the Taylor children’s faces. Her heart ached as she remembered the taunts poor little Nugget used to face. And, to a lesser extent, she used to face. Polly’s ma was a woman of the most honorable sort, but her pa... Polly sighed. She did her best to honor her pa, but his gambling, drinking and suspected philandering was the biggest reason she could never see herself settling down.
“Well, I’m not going to be mean to you on account of your mama.” Polly held out her hand. “And I am fairly certain that none of the children here will do so either. But if they do, they will answer to me.”
Clara came and took Polly’s hand. “Everyone says Mummy was wicked. And we’re wicked just like her.”
Those big brown eyes looked up at her, full of hope, yet fearful.
“You’re not wicked,” Polly said, squeezing the little girl’s hand, then looking over at the rest of the Taylor children. “You might need to learn a few manners, but that doesn’t mean you’re wicked.”
Mitch stepped alongside her. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think anyone’s told them that before.”
She turned her
