on us.”
Linc came from behind the desk and placed a hand on Gil’s shoulder, giving it a brotherly squeeze. “You know, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know. I’d better get back. I’ll be here early tomorrow. The nanny will be taking Abby to school from now on.”
Linc nodded and patted his shoulder. “See you then. Oh, Mom said Beth came through the surgery on her tendon fine.”
“Good to hear.” Gil glanced at the photo again. Everyone in his family was suffering in some way. Without their father to serve as their anchor, they were all adrift.
* * *
The house was quiet when Gil stepped inside a short while later. The nanny was sitting at the kitchen table working on her tablet. She looked at him and smiled, bringing a glint into her brown eyes and revealing a dimple on one side of her mouth he hadn’t noticed before. She had an infectious smile, wide and bright, that lit up the room. It almost made him want to smile back. He didn’t. “Where’s Abby? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course. She’s in her room.”
Gil tapped the tabletop with his fingers, fighting a fresh wave of concern. “Has she been there the whole time?”
“No. We had a snack, she showed me around the house and then she took me to her room. Did you know she doesn’t like the color pink? Purple is her favorite.”
He studied the woman. How did she know that? “No. She never said. I thought all girls like pink. My sisters did.”
The nanny grinned as if placating a small child. “I think she’d like it if you could paint her room purple. Maybe she could help pick out the color.”
He turned away, gathering himself as he slipped out of his sport coat. “Sure. We can do that.” He took a seat at the table, clasping his hands. “I didn’t have much time to get that room ready, and I never thought to ask about the color.” Another misstep as a father. He should have asked Abby what she wanted, but it had never occurred to him. Once he’d been assured he would have full custody of his daughter, he’d hired one of the guys at the shop to paint the room and get it ready.
“Picking out things she likes will help her feel more at home. Change can be frightening for a child.”
Resentment clogged Gil’s throat. “Are you saying I frighten her?”
“No.” She pressed her lips together. “But she thinks you don’t want her here.”
“She told you that?” His chest tightened.
“Yes. We talked a little and—”
“She talked to you?”
“Yes. Why?”
Gil stood, fighting the anger and hurt coursing through him. Abby hadn’t said more than three words at a time to him since he’d brought her home, and those were usually clipped sentences. His mother had been able to coax some conversation from her, but not much. Yet this woman had learned more about his child in an hour than he had in weeks. He faced the nanny, her big brown eyes filled with puzzlement. “Abby doesn’t talk much.”
“She’s struggling to adjust to her new life with you. She’s lost her mother, been taken from everything familiar and put in a new situation. Spending one-on-one time with her, learning what she likes to do, will ease that transition. I’ve found that listening closely to the things they say can be very helpful.”
“You think?” Was she accusing him of being a poor father? He’d heard that too often from his wife. He didn’t need to it hear from an employee. “I think I know what’s best for my daughter.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t.” She lowered her eyes, a faint blush staining her cheeks.
Gil squared his shoulders. This woman had no idea what he was going through. “Abby needs time, that’s all.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Now she was placating him. “Miss Bishop, I know you mean well, but I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that you are only here to care for my daughter until my mother returns.”
“Yes, of course. I understand.”
He tried to ignore the hurt look in her pretty brown eyes. He had a sinking sensation in his gut like he’d just kicked a sweet fuzzy bunny. He made a mental note to avoid eye contact with the attractive nanny. “Abby is fragile right now. I don’t want her upset in any way. Just watch over her and let her have whatever she wants.” He thought he saw a glint of disapproval in her eyes but shrugged it off. She couldn’t possibly understand his situation. No one could.
Miss Bishop shut off her tablet and slipped it into her large bag. She stood and picked up a paper from the folder she’d been studying. She took a deep breath, as if preparing to deliver another blow. She held out the paper, and Gil braced himself.
“We drew pictures. It’s a good way to find out what a child is thinking or feeling. This is what she drew.”
Great. He could just imagine what she’d drawn. An ugly monster or maybe a man with a mean face? After he took the paper, he puzzled at the image. “A dog?”
The nanny gave him a tender smile that warmed her eyes and put a glow in her cheeks. “Apparently she had one named Cookie, but he went away. I thought maybe you could tell me what happened. She obviously cared deeply for the little dog.”
Gil rubbed his bottom lip. “No. I don’t know about any pets she might have had.” He stared at the nanny. The compassion in her chocolate-brown eyes connected with a part of him he’d thought long dead. Her concern was directed at him. She understood what he was going through. It had been a long time since a woman had offered him understanding. The nanny was not only kind and intuitive, but she truly cared for others. No wonder Abby had taken to her so easily. That knowledge should make him happy. It didn’t. “Truth is, I don’t know much about her life for the last three years.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t go to see her?”
This nanny was also too inquisitive for his liking. He met her concerned gaze head-on. “I went every other weekend.”
She lowered her gaze, then stood and gathered up the rest of her belongings. “It’s just a suggestion, but a puppy would give her something to love and hold on to and make her feel more secure here.”
It was a good idea. One he should have thought of himself. If that’s all it would take to make his child happy, he’d buy her a dozen puppies. But why didn’t she feel secure with him? What was he not doing that made Abby think she wasn’t wanted? And how had this young nanny been able to connect with her in such a short time? “I’ll think about it.”
Miss Bishop took the hint and moved toward the door.
“Would you like me to start tomorrow, Mr. Montgomery?”
He wanted to call up the agency and tell them to send someone better suited. But this woman had connected with Abby in only an hour. He couldn’t dismiss that fact. But she also had him off balance. It had been a long time since he’d
