Книга - Finding Family…and Forever?

Finding Family...and Forever?
Teresa Southwick






She stood when the little boy braced himself on the pumpkin. “Definitely his first steps.” And then she threw herself into his arms. “Oh, my gosh, Justin. He’s walking.”

“I know.”

And he was excited about that, too. But damn it, Emma felt so good in his arms, pink jacket, funky hat and all. He couldn’t help himself and pulled her in tighter for full body contact. Being this close to her had him thinking about long, slow kisses in his bed. There was no question that he started breathing faster, and it wasn’t his imagination that Emma was, too. He saw it when she stepped away and couldn’t look at him.

“It’s getting cold,” she said.

Justin hadn’t noticed. He was hot all over and wanted to do something about it.

* * *

The Bachelors of Blackwater Lake: They won’t be single for long!




Finding Family … and Forever?

Teresa Southwick





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.


To Susan Mallery, Christine Rimmer,

and Kate Carlisle. You’re my plotting family

and so much more. I’m grateful to call you friends.


Contents

Chapter One (#u855e697c-c136-5d6a-8a59-a6e36ad79d83)

Chapter Two (#u21475a78-f6e9-53c8-9f3c-217d061b56cc)

Chapter Three (#u7594cc70-c04f-5b1d-8996-971f38a077f8)

Chapter Four (#ue27535ca-110a-506f-8dd6-fcbb864a0676)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“I’m not looking for a wife.”

“Thank you for clarifying, because that’s not the box I checked on the nanny application.”

Justin Flint, M.D., stared at the young woman sitting across the desk from him, liking the fact that Emma Robbins had a sharp, sassy sense of humor. On the other hand, that didn’t change the fact that his comment was out of line.

It was just possible he was trying to discourage her because she was too pretty. He was a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon and had relocated to Blackwater Lake, Montana, to give his almost one-year-old son a normal life. That didn’t include being taken in again by a pretty face, but saying so out loud would be too weird.

“I’m sorry.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “This is going to sound egotistical, but women applying for the nanny job have been coming on to me. That’s not the qualification I’m looking for in the person who’s going to take care of Kyle.”

“You’re right. That does sound egotistical.” She smiled and, if possible, was even more beautiful. “It also makes you a concerned father, which I can respect. But let me assure you, I’m not the least bit interested in anything but a job.”

“Good.” It was good but still took his ego down a peg or two. “Okay. Let’s take it from the top. This interview didn’t start off very well. My fault entirely. And I assure you that normally I behave in a completely professional way with my employees.”

“I’d expect nothing less. But I can see why women flirt with you. It just has to be said that I’m not one of them.”

If he were still in Beverly Hills, an agency would vet all nanny candidates, but in this small town things were different. Advertisements in the local paper and recommendations from the employees here at Mercy Medical Clinic, in addition to those of the mayor and town council, had generated half a dozen prospects. Unfortunately, the first four had clearly been more interested in batting their eyeslashes and giving him a look at their cleavage.

“All right, then.” He browsed through the paperwork. “So, Miss Robbins, you’re from California.” That was the address she’d listed.

“Yes, Studio City. It’s in the San Fernando Valley north of Los Angeles.”

“Blackwater Lake is a long way from there.”

She smiled. “I can see that.”

He knew the Southern California neighborhood and it wasn’t far from the entertainment capital of the world. With a face like hers, she could be a starlet and he’d stake his professional reputation on the fact that she’d had no work done. The flawless skin and stunning features were nothing more than excellent genes.

Emma Robbins looked as if she belonged on a movie screen. Long, shiny brown hair streaked with gold fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were brown and framed by thick lashes. But it was her mouth that mesmerized him—full, sculpted lips made for kissing, and he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from them. That thought definitely hadn’t been vetted by his common sense.

“So, what brought you to Montana, Miss Robbins?”

“Vacation.”

“Have you ever been here before?”

“No.”

“What made you decide to come here? As opposed to, say, Hawaii?” He would bet she’d turn heads in a bikini. Although right now she looked like a preppy college girl with a white collar sticking up from the neckline of her navy pullover. Tailored jeans and loafers completed the look. “I’m just trying to get to know you.”

Was it his imagination or did she not quite look him in the eyes?

“This will sound corny, but one of my favorite books was set in Montana. I was between jobs and did some research. This town was advertised as the new and unspoiled Vail or Aspen. I wanted to check it out.”

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“Words can’t describe how beautiful it is here,” she said sincerely.

That didn’t answer the question about whether or not she wanted to stay. “I need to be honest with you about my situation.”

“I would appreciate that, Dr. Flint.” The tone was firm, almost abrasively adamant, hinting that maybe someone hadn’t been truthful with her.

Justin could relate. “I brought my current nanny with me from Beverly Hills where my medical practice was.”

“Obviously there’s a problem or I wouldn’t be here.”

“If you call hating mountains, a lake, trees and blue sky a problem, then yes.”

She laughed. “I have nothing to say to that.”

“The issue has more to do with missing her grown children and the fact that one of her daughters is a month away from giving birth to her first grandchild.”

“That could distort your perception of the most majestic mountains ever and a lake and sky that are prettier than anything I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He thought so, too. “The thing is, I talked her into staying until either her replacement could be found, or two weeks prebirth. Kyle hasn’t known any other caregiver, and the change is going to be disruptive for him.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten months.”

She glanced at a photograph on his desk. “May I?”

“Please.” He handed her the frame.

“He’s a cutie. Just like his father.” She caught herself, then met his gaze. “I swear that wasn’t flirting. What I meant was, he has your eyes, and the shape of his face is all you.”

He took the photo back from her and smiled at the baby, pleased she thought Kyle had inherited something good from him. Hopefully his son would have better judgment in people, specifically women people, than his old man.

“He’s little and doesn’t understand what’s going on. I’d like the change to be as easy as possible for him.”

“I can understand that.” She folded her hands in her lap.

“If I decide to hire you, what assurance can you give me that you’ll fulfill your obligation?”

In truth, there wasn’t anything. If the sacred vows of marriage didn’t stop his wife from ignoring her responsibilities, what could this stranger say to convince him? Kyle’s mother had put her own interests over what was best for her son, their son. Since her death, Justin found that buying the best child care possible was the only guarantee he had.

“Dr. Flint—” She leaned toward him, earnest in her defense. “There’s nothing I can say to convince you of my sincerity, but I’m well qualified. I have a degree in early childhood development and the references I provided might help ease your mind. A short-term contract would probably be best. If either of us isn’t satisfied with the bargain at any time, a suitable notification period should be spelled out. Enough time for either or both of us to make other arrangements.”

That seemed fair to him, but he wasn’t ready to say so just yet. Instead, he asked, “What about your life in California?”

“I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“Do you have family? Friends? A house to be sold or closed up?” Someone special?

Justin found himself most interested in the answer to the question he hadn’t asked out loud. She was pretty. He was a guy and couldn’t help noticing. She must have a boyfriend and, if not, candidates were probably lined up around the block waiting to apply for the position.

Emma sat back and crossed one slender leg over the other. “I don’t have family. On top of being an only child, my father died when I was ten and Mother passed away a little less than a year ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Her mouth pulled tight, but it looked like more than grief. “She left me the house, but I have a friend who will take care of it.”

He wanted very much to know if the friend was a man, but asking wouldn’t be professional. Before he could say more, there was a knock on his office door just before Ginny Irwin, the clinic nurse, poked her head into the room. “Dr. Flint, your first afternoon appointment is here.”

Since she could have relayed that information by intercom, Justin suspected she hiked upstairs to the second floor in order to get a look at the nanny applicant.

“Thanks, Ginny. I’ll be right down.”

“Okay.” She stared curiously at the young woman across the desk from him, then backed out, closing the door behind her.

“All right,” he said, “I guess we’re finished.”

“There’s just one more thing I’d like to say.” Emma picked up her purse from the floor beside her, then stood.

“What?” he asked.

“I want this job very much. And I’m very good with children.”

He would check that out for himself. “All right. I have one more interview.”

“Will you let me know one way or the other?”

“Yes.” He stood up and felt as if he towered over her, then hated that it made him feel protective. There was something vulnerable and fragile about this woman, but getting sucked into the feeling was a bad idea. “I’ll do a thorough background check and personally contact all the references you listed.”

“Good. I’d expect nothing less. And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a live-in position, right?”

“It is. And light housekeeping will also be required. But my primary concern is the well-being of my son. If I get called for an emergency in the middle of the night, trying to find child care could be a problem. I need someone there.”

“So if I’ll be living under your roof, it would be a good idea for me to know something about you. That way, everyone feels better.” She shrugged then held out her hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Dr. Flint.”

Justin wrapped his fingers around hers and felt a sizzle all the way up his arm. That was enough to make him want the next job applicant to actually be Mary Poppins. He needed to hire someone right away. His current nanny was very close to leaving him in a real bind when she headed back to the Sunshine State.

So far, Emma Robbins was the most qualified applicant, if her references checked out. That made her the leading candidate. On the downside, he was too aware of her as a woman.

Nothing about that made him feel better.

* * *

Emma drove up the hill to Justin Flint’s impressive, two-story house. After parking, she took a good look. The place was big and located in the exclusive, custom-home development of Lake View Estates. She took a deep breath and exited the car. The wraparound front porch had a white railing that opened to double front doors with etched glass. Light danced through it and was like a beacon of welcome.

“Homey,” she whispered to herself. The warmth was unexpected. Maybe she’d been expecting pretentious from the renowned Beverly Hills plastic surgeon.

She walked up the three stairs and pushed the doorbell, then heard footsteps just on the other side. Bracing herself to face Justin Flint again, she wasn’t prepared for the short, plump, fiftyish blonde woman who opened the door.

“I’m Sylvia Foster.”

“Emma Robbins,” she said, extending her hand.

“My replacement.” Blue eyes twinkled good-naturedly.

“That’s my hope, but I’m happy just to have a second interview.” Emma hadn’t expected it. The doctor had seemed distant after they’d shaken hands.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s desperate. I gave him an ultimatum and it wasn’t easy. Breaks my heart to leave this baby. But...”

“He told me your first grandchild is due soon.”

“A boy,” Sylvia revealed, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so torn. I’ll miss Kyle terribly, but my three children are in Southern California, not to mention a sister and brother. My whole family is there.”

A little voice chattered unintelligible sounds behind her and she turned. On the gorgeous dark-wood entryway floor was the doctor’s son, crawling toward the open door as fast as he could.

The older woman tsked, although there was no scolding in the sound. “Kyle Flint, just where do you think you’re going?”

She started to bend and grab him as he scooted by her with every intention of getting outside. Emma squatted on the porch side of the low threshold and looked up at the older woman.

“It took a lot of energy for him to make a break for it. Would it be okay if he comes out just for a minute? A little reward to encourage his sense of exploration?”

“I like the way you think.” Sylvia nodded and watched the baby touch the slats separating his protected world from the unknown beyond.

He sat and slapped it a few times before going on all fours again and venturing out. Turning wide eyes, his father’s gray eyes, on Emma, he took her measure. Just as the doctor had done.

“Hi, cutie.” She let him look, get used to her. Overwhelming him with verbal, visual and tactile stimuli could be disconcerting to the little guy.

After several moments, he crawled outside and over to her, putting a chubby hand on her thigh. Then he boosted himself to a standing position.

“He’s pretty steady,” she observed. “Is he walking yet?”

“Not quite,” Sylvia confirmed. “He’s a little hesitant to take that first step.”

Emma knew how he felt. She had a family here in Blackwater Lake that she hadn’t known about until just before her “mother” died. The woman had confessed to kidnapping Emma as an infant from people who lived in this town. Shock didn’t begin to express how she’d felt at hearing the words, and she was still struggling to wrap her head around it all.

This trip to Montana was about her own personal exploration. She’d been in town for three and a half weeks, checked out the diner that her biological parents owned and managed. But she hadn’t taken the next step of telling them who she was. Everything would change for them and there’d be no going back. She wasn’t sure turning their world upside down all over again was the right thing to do. Observation showed that they’d found some sort of peace, and learning the truth might not be for the best.

The little boy slapped her jeans-clad leg and grinned as he took steps while barely holding on.

“Hey, buddy,” she crooned. “You’re a handsome little guy.”

“A heartbreaker in training, just like his father,” Sylvia said.

Emma wondered if Justin warned women away because he didn’t want to break hearts. He was a doctor, after all, a healer. Or maybe he really wasn’t looking for anyone because he was still grieving the wife he’d lost in a car accident. She’d checked him out on the internet and there was a lot of information on the celebrity plastic surgeon who’d given up fame and fortune due to shock and grief over losing the woman he’d loved.

An expensive silver SUV pulled up in front of the house and parked behind the little compact she’d rented at the airport nearly a hundred miles from Blackwater Lake. So the doctor was in. If this second interview went as she hoped, she’d have her car shipped from California and return the rental. The next few minutes would determine her course of action.

“Daddy’s home, Kyle.” Sylvia smiled at the baby and clapped her hands.

“Da—” he gurgled.

“Aren’t you smart,” Emma said.

She stood, gently holding the baby’s upper arm to keep him from falling. Bending, she held out her hand to see if he was willing to be picked up by a stranger. He smiled and bounced, holding out his arms.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said, lifting him up and cuddling him against her. “You’re a heavy boy.”

Justin got out of the car and walked toward them, then up the steps. A man who looked as tired as he did had no right to still be so handsome. His short dark hair was sticking up a little, as if he’d run his fingers through it more than once that day. Piercing gray eyes grew tender when he looked at his son. In that moment he was an open book and it was as if the hidden path to his soul were exposed. He could have been a troll, but the feelings so evident on his face made him nearly irresistible.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, stopping beside Emma. “There was an emergency.”

“Everything okay?” she asked, automatically swaying from side to side with the baby in her arms. Kyle had discovered the chain around her neck and the butterfly charm attached to it.

“A little girl had a run-in with broken glass.” The doctor’s eyes turned dark and intense when he looked at her holding his son.

“Is she okay?”

“I gave her my personal guarantee that when she’s wearing her high school cheerleader uniform, no one will ever know she had stitches in her knee when she was eight.”

“So you’re a hero,” Sylvia said.

“I wouldn’t say that, but if you’re passing out compliments...” He held out his arms. “Hey, buddy. Can I have a hug?”

The baby turned away and buried his face in Emma’s shoulder. Not her fault, but not how a father away at work all day wanted to be greeted by the child he clearly adored.

“Hey, sweetie, want to say hi to your dad?” She wouldn’t hand the boy over to his father until he was ready, or the doctor insisted.

“That’s not like him,” Sylvia commented. “Usually he crawls up and into your arms. I think he likes Emma. Seems very comfortable with her. Just my opinion as his primary caregiver, but you should hire her.”

“And that judgment has nothing to do with the fact that you’re about to leave me in the lurch.”

“You’re an evil man, Dr. Flint,” Sylvia teased. “I don’t have enough mother’s guilt, so you feel the need to pile on more?”

“Would I do that?”

“In a heartbeat,” the older woman said good-naturedly.

“Let’s go inside.” Dr. Flint gave no hint about whether or not he was annoyed.

Emma followed the older woman into a big entryway with a circular table holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. Twin stairways on either side led to the second story. To the left was a large formal dining room with a dark, cherrywood table and eight matching chairs. Directly to the right was the living room with a striped sofa in rust, brown and beige. Two wing chairs in a floral print with coordinating colors were arranged in front of a raised-hearth fireplace.

As they walked toward the back of the house, the little boy wiggled to get down. Emma set him on his tush, making sure he was stable before straightening. He crawled over to his father and pulled himself up before strong arms grabbed him and held him close.

“Hey, I missed you today, buddy.”

He nuzzled the boy’s neck and the child began to giggle. After a few moments, he pushed to get down and his father complied.

“Why don’t you talk to Emma in your office,” Sylvia suggested. “I’ll take this little man to the kitchen and feed him.”

“That would be great, Syl. Miss Robbins?”

“Lead the way,” she said.

She followed him down a hall off the family room into his office where there was a large, flat-topped desk and computer. Two chairs sat in front of it and he indicated she should take one. She did, and looked around as he sat in the black leather chair behind the desk.

“This is surprisingly homey,” Emma said.

“Why surprising?”

In a perfect world, Emma thought, she would have kept that observation in her head. Since it was out, she had to explain.

“I did an online search on you.”

“So you checked me out.” One corner of his mouth lifted.

“It’s not like you weren’t warned.”

He didn’t look at all bothered. “And?”

“You were the plastic surgeon to the stars. The go-to guy for new noses, lips and—” She glanced down at her chest, which suddenly felt woefully inadequate. Then she looked up and saw the amusement in his gaze. “Other things.”

“I do more than that.”

“So I found out. Doctors Without Borders. Trips to Central America to work on children with cleft palates. Donating your time to Heal the Children.”

“The specialty is more than just changing parts of the body a person doesn’t like.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Most plastic surgery isn’t cosmetic. It involves reconstruction. The adjective plastic in front of surgery means sculpting.”

“Very interesting.”

“I correct functional impairment caused by traumatic injuries, infection or disease—cancer or tumors. Sometimes a procedure is done to approximate a normal appearance. Trauma initiates sudden change, which can cause depression, make a person question who they are.”

Emma had questioned who she was every day since her mother’s deathbed confession about stealing her from another family when she was a baby. Plastic surgery couldn’t fix her. There was no procedure that would restore what she or her biological family had lost.

“Is it my imagination, or did you quote all that from Wikipedia because you’re the tiniest bit defensive about public perception regarding your field of expertise?”

“No. Maybe.” His grin was a little sheepish, a little boyish and a whole lot of sexy. “Sorry. Since moving to Blackwater Lake, I’ve been reeducating the locals who want Angelina Jolie’s lips or George Clooney’s chin.”

“Really? Men?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“For the record, I think what you do is very impressive.” She held up her hand. “Again, not flirting or flattering. Just stating the truth as I see it.”

He leaned back in the chair, more relaxed now. “Suddenly I feel like the one being interviewed.”

“It was more like adding context to the information on the internet.”

“I think that was a diplomatic way of saying that I like to talk about myself.” There was laughter in his eyes, making them sparkle. Very different from the gray intensity that reminded her of a storm.

“You said it.” She liked that he could make fun of himself.

“Speaking of interviews... Why are you surprised my house is homey?”

Too much to hope he’d been distracted enough not to remember that comment. She took a deep breath. “You made a lot of money doing what you did in Beverly Hills. I just figured your home would be chrome, glass, electronic gizmos, sculptures and art that cost the equivalent of a small country’s gross national product.”

His mouth pulled tight for a moment. “That was then, this is Montana. I wanted a change.”

“Because of losing your wife?” Emma winced as the words came out of her mouth. She could kiss this job goodbye. If she ever faced her biological mother, one of the things she wanted to know was which side of the family to blame for this chronic foot-in-mouth problem. “Sorry. That’s none of my business. You’re supposed to be asking the questions.”

“I am, but you touched on something important. Kyle will never know his mother, and whoever looks after him will be dealing with that issue as he gets older.”

“Of course. You’ll want to keep her memory alive.”

“For my son.”

For you, too, she wanted to say, but the sadness in his eyes stopped her. Obviously it hurt to talk about the woman. He’d probably moved here because it was too painful to live in the house and city he’d shared with the wife he loved. He’d run from his own memories but wanted to make sure his son knew about his mother.

She could relate to that. The only mother Emma had ever known wasn’t really her mother and she knew next to nothing about her real family. From her perspective, information about a parent was priceless.

She’d brought up the topic but sensed he wanted to change it. “Your son is a charmer.”

“He’s got me wrapped around his finger.” The shadows lifted from his face, leaving a tender expression.

“I can see why. So good-natured.” Her cheeks grew warm remembering her own words about the boy being as handsome as the father. It was true, but she still wished to have the comment back.

“He seemed to take to you.” Those eyes zeroed in on her and turned darker, more observant. “Something I needed to know. Which is why I wanted to do the second interview here at the house in Kyle’s environment.”

“I understand.”

He nodded. “Your background check didn’t turn up anything. I talked to your previous employers, who all said I’d be crazy not to hire you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“In fact, one woman I talked to said you were personally responsible for her decision to quit her job and be a stay-at-home mother.”

Emma remembered. “Carly Carrington. But her choice wasn’t because I didn’t do my job.”

“She was very clear about that. It was about how much you enjoyed her baby and she was jealous. Unwilling to miss any more of her child’s life.”

“I lost the position, but her child got the most important thing. Her mom.”

“She told me you said that. So my decision all came down to chemistry.”

She wasn’t worried about bonding with the baby, but it was decidedly inconvenient that she was attracted to the father. Her life was way too complicated to deal with something like that even if he was interested, which clearly he wasn’t. She should turn down this job right now, but the fact was, the doctor needed a nanny and she needed a job.

“I get the feeling that you’ve made up your mind.”

He nodded. “I’m told that kids have a highly reactive blarney meter and can spot a phony a mile away. Like I said, Kyle warmed to you really fast.”

“I thought so, too. And the feeling is mutual.”

“That was obvious, too.” He stood and walked around the desk, half sitting on the corner beside her. “So, when can you start?”

“Right away.” It probably wouldn’t be appropriate or professional to pump her arm in triumph, so she sat demurely with her hands folded in her lap.

“Good.” He thought for a moment. “Sylvia is going back to California in two weeks. I’d like you to work with her until she leaves. Transition Kyle.”

“He’ll feel the change, but it will be more gradual that way,” she agreed. “I appreciate this opportunity, Dr.—”

“Call me Justin.”

“Okay.” It was a strong name and suited him.

“I’ve had a short-term contract drawn up with the stipulations that we discussed in the first interview.” He took a paper from his desk. “Look it over and if you’re okay with everything, sign at the bottom, Emma.”

It felt as if he was testing the sound of her name on his tongue, and for some reason that started tingles skipping up her spine. But she managed to read the words and signed with the pen he’d handed her.

“Welcome aboard, Emma.”

“Thank you.”

She wasn’t sure that this opportunity was a sign of how to proceed with her own personal predicament, but it bought her time to figure everything out. She was very good at her job and he was lucky to get her, but that didn’t ease her conflict. After finding out she wasn’t who she’d thought, absolute truth took on a whole new meaning for her. Now she felt guilty for not confessing to Justin why she was really here in Blackwater Lake, but that wasn’t an option.

What man in his right mind would hire a nanny whose whole life was a lie?


Chapter Two

Two weeks later, Sylvia was gone and Justin had just spent the first night alone with Emma. Well, not alone, he corrected, although it was an interesting and unforeseen way to think about her, especially since he’d never thought about his former nanny that way. Like every other morning, the smell of coffee drifted to him, but this didn’t feel like just another day.

He looked in the bathroom mirror, still a little steamy from his morning shower, and applied shaving cream to his cheeks and jaw. An electric razor would be faster, but didn’t do as precise a job.

The master suite was downstairs and there were five more bedrooms on the second floor along with a big open playroom area the size of the three-car garage. Emma had the room next to Kyle’s with a shared bathroom between them. Sylvia would be missed, but from a father’s perspective, the new nanny had been well oriented to his son’s routine and she interacted with him naturally. He seemed to like her.

Justin liked her, too, in a way that was potentially problematic.

After shaving and combing his hair, he dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt for work at Mercy Medical Clinic. There were no surgeries scheduled for today, but in the case of an emergency, he had scrubs in the office. When he was ready, he walked upstairs to spend as much time as possible with his son before leaving for the day.

At the top of the stairs he heard Emma’s voice and Kyle’s chattering. The nursery door was open the way it always was in the morning, so he walked in as he always did. But however much the scene was routine and familiar, everything felt different.

The baby was on the changing table with a clean diaper already in place. Emma had him in an undershirt and was in the process of sliding his arms into a one-piece terry-cloth romper. Her back was to him and she didn’t know he was there yet.

“Hey, big boy,” she crooned. “Did you have a good sleep?”

The baby was holding an orange-and-yellow plastic toy car and he clapped it against his other hand as he babbled his response.

“I’m so glad to hear it. You look well rested and I didn’t hear a peep. I was listening and I’m right there if you need me. Just say, ‘Hey, Em, some help here.’”

Justin moved a little farther into the room, but quietly. Not to nanny-cam her, just reluctant to interrupt this quiet, happy scene. He could see her profile and knew she was smiling. His son was grinning back, proudly showing off four top and a matching number of bottom baby teeth.

“So, what’s the plan for today, Mr. Kyle? Are you going to help with laundry? Maybe the house cleaning? I know. How about you dust the toys in your basket? That would be a big help.” She put a firm hand on his belly to keep him from rolling off as he unexpectedly squirmed toward her. “Not so fast. And just where do you think you’re going, mister? It was a good try. Points for that. But we’re not quite finished here.”

She encircled his chubby leg in her fingers then bent slightly and kissed the bottom of his foot. He started to giggle and there was a smile in her voice when she said, “Are you ticklish?”

This time the smooch on his foot was accompanied by a loud smacking noise and Kyle laughed, a consuming sound that came from deep inside. Emma laughed, too, and repeated the action several more times, eliciting the same happy response.

Justin smiled at their play and would challenge anyone to keep a straight face under the same circumstances. A baby’s laughter could enthrall a room full of adults. That was just a given and didn’t explain his own feelings about the woman making his son laugh.

Something weird curled and tightened in Justin’s gut and made this morning different from every other morning since he’d moved to Blackwater Lake. It was nothing like the other mornings he’d come upstairs to see the nanny caring for his son. But Sylvia was the grandmotherly type and Emma wasn’t. That changed everything.

The sweet sound of her amusement mingling with his son’s mesmerized him, and her fresh, wholesome beauty made it hard to turn away. In her jeans and soft powder-blue sweater, she was also dressed for work but on her it didn’t look like work. Until yesterday, Sylvia had been there to blunt this reaction, and now all he could do was hope it would go away. Unfortunately, if anything, he felt it more sharply now that they were the only two adults in the house.

Speaking of adults, it was time to start acting like the one in charge. He moved close enough for their arms to brush and the smell of her to drift inside him. “Hey, there, you two.”

Emma glanced up and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Hey, buddy.” He leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead. The boy babbled and held out his car. “I see. Did you sleep okay?”

The answer in baby talk sounded very much as if he were carrying on a conversation. Justin knew the chatter was the beginning of speech and his son was right on target developmentally. Absolutely normal. His goal was to maintain the average and ordinary, but the fact that his son would never have a mother already changed the usual domestic dynamic, and that bothered him. His job was all about fixing and there was nothing he could do to make this right for his son.

The child held out his arms to be picked up and Justin said, “Just a minute, buddy. You have to get dressed first.”

“My fault,” Emma said. “I got sidetracked. He’s just too much fun to play with. I don’t want you to be late because I didn’t stick to the schedule.”

“No problem. I’d much rather he’s happy. That’s the number-one priority.”

She nodded then quickly and efficiently grabbed one foot at a time and slid each one into the legs of the outfit. “I’ll put clothes on him later, but this is more comfortable for now.”

“Sounds practical to me.” When she finished, he picked up the baby and hugged him close, loving the smell of fresh-scented soap and little boy. He nuzzled the small neck until the child squealed with laughter. “I’ll carry him downstairs.”

“Okay. I’ll get breakfast going. The coffee is ready.” She stopped in the doorway. “Is there anything special you’d like?”

You.

The thought popped unexpectedly into his mind with such intensity that it startled him. He swallowed once because his mouth was dry, then said, “Surprise me.”

“Okay.”

Mission accomplished, he thought, before she’d even had a chance to get downstairs. He looked into his son’s gray eyes and smiled ruefully. “So, this is the new normal, kid. We just have to get used to it.”

And by “we,” he meant himself.

He settled the baby on his forearm and carried him downstairs and into the kitchen. There was a steaming mug of coffee sitting on the long, beige-and-black granite beside the pot.

That was something Sylvia had never done for him.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing it with his free hand.

“You’re welcome.” She glanced up from the bowl of raw eggs she was stirring with a wire whisk. “I’ll put Kyle in his high chair.”

“That’s all right. I’ve got him and your hands are full.”

The chair was set up beside the oak table in the kitchen nook that had a spectacular view of Blackwater Lake below. It was one of the things he liked best about this house. He put his mug down and settled his son, then belted him in before adjusting the tray for comfort. On the table beside it was a plastic dish of dry cereal and he set it in front of the little guy, who eagerly dug in. This was the established routine that he’d learned worked best. Keep Kyle happy so Justin could get breakfast in before work. After he left, Emma would feed him other appropriate nutritional stuff to balance his diet.

Right now she was scrambling eggs in a pan and folded in sliced mushrooms, tomatoes and grated cheese. There was a blueberry muffin sitting by his plate. Obviously she’d been downstairs already to prepare everything before Kyle was awake.

“You’re very organized,” he commented. “Did you get up before God to do this?”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Almost. It doesn’t take long without interruptions. And this morning your son slept like a baby and made me look good.”

“I just want to say that grabbing breakfast on the way to work is never a problem if he needs anything. The schedule is flexible.”

“Understood,” she said. “But there’s always a contingency plan so you shouldn’t have to.”

“Like this tantalizing muffin on the table?”

“Exactly. I hope you like it.”

He lifted the small plate and sniffed. “Smells good.”

“I baked them yesterday afternoon while Kyle was napping.”

“From scratch?”

“Yes.” She used a spatula to lift the eggs onto a plate and brought it to him. “I hope this passes the taste test, too.”

He sat beside his son’s high chair and cut the muffin in half. Although there was butter on the table, the cakey inside was so moist he didn’t think it would need any. The bite he took told him he was right. In silence, he chewed and savored the sweet, moist flavor.

Emma hovered close, waiting. “Okay. I can’t stand it. Silence makes me nervous. If you hate it I need to know. I prefer honesty.”

“Hate it?” He looked at her. “This is quite possibly the best blueberry muffin I’ve ever had, and I can’t believe you didn’t use a mix.”

“I wouldn’t lie.” Her smile slipped and a sort of bruised look slid into her eyes.

Again he thought that something or someone had made the truth very important to her. “I was teasing, Emma. This is so good that if you wanted another career as a pastry chef I’d lose a very good nanny.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiled. “Hopefully, the eggs will hold up to the same scrutiny.”

“I’m sure they will.” He could already tell by the smell that they’d be delicious.

“Sylvia gave me lots of pointers and I took notes about your preferences. And what Kyle currently likes best. She also made sure I have her cell number and email address in case there are any questions. I’m doing my best to make the transition as seamless as possible.”

“Mission accomplished.”

So far she was superbly fulfilling all the objectives for which she’d been hired. His son was happy. Her cooking was really good. It wasn’t her fault that the changeover could have been more seamless if she looked like Mrs. Doubtfire. If not for his blasted fascination with her, she’d be the perfect nanny.

But he’d learned the hard way that there was no such thing as the perfect woman.

* * *

Justin would be home any minute and Emma was carrying Kyle around the kitchen on her hip because it was the time of day when he was too fussy to play independently. He just wanted to be held and nothing would distract him.

“I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little nervous about this first dinner on my own with you and your daddy.”

Kyle looked at her then rubbed his eyes, a sure sign he was nearly at the end of his rope.

“I know, sweetie. Even after a good long nap, a busy boy like you is just plain tired.” She hugged him a little closer and her heart melted a little more at the way he burrowed against her. “The thing is, my man, your dad hasn’t seen you all day and he works pretty hard. All for you, although you should never feel guilty about it. If you could hang in a little longer so he can spend some quality time with you before your bedtime, that would be pretty awesome. Okay?”

He grinned a gooey, wet grin, then babbled two syllables that sounded suspiciously like, “Okay.”

Emma glanced around the kitchen and ticked things off the list in her mind. The chicken was in the Crock-Pot, a recipe that included vegetables and potatoes all together. She didn’t want to tackle anything too time-consuming and labor-intensive in the final prep stages. With the little guy constantly on the move, it was a scenario with disaster written all over it.

The table was set for one adult and the high chair was ready for one baby. While Sylvia was there, they’d all eaten together, but without the older woman’s presence Emma was concerned that it would feel too intimate. Justin Flint wasn’t her first employer, but he was the only single dad she’d ever worked for and the dynamic was awkward. At least for her.

She found him charming and attractive and under different circumstances would probably have flirted, even though she’d sworn off men. Discovering that your fiancé was a cheating weasel tended to make a girl do that. The thing was, she wanted to flirt with Justin, but that was completely unprofessional. It was a constant strain to suppress the natural inclination.

Every time he was in the room, butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She was clumsy and tongue-tied. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was also a big fat fraud. Even though her mission in Blackwater Lake was delicate and intensely personal, it seemed wrong not to give Justin all that information before he’d made the decision to hire her. She would do her very best for this child and hope Justin wouldn’t regret his decision. This job was vital in order to buy her time to decide how to handle her private situation.

The front door opened and closed, telling her that the employer she’d just been thinking about was here. A small twist of anticipation registered before she could shut it down.

She smiled at Kyle. “Your daddy’s home.”

“Da— Da—” He bounced in her arms and squirmed to get down.

Emma set him on the floor and instantly he got on all fours and crawled out of the kitchen as fast as he could go. She followed, not to intrude on a private father-son moment, but to make sure he made it to the safety of his dad’s strong arms. Getting sidetracked on the way by something potentially harmful was always a possibility. She wouldn’t let him out of her sight until she knew this house and all its baby hazards like the back of her hand. Assuming, of course, that she was here long enough to know it that well.

“Hey, buddy.” In the entryway Justin had set his laptop case on the table, then grabbed up his son for a hug and kiss. “How are you?”

He lifted the baby high over his head in those strong arms she’d just been thinking about. Emma knew Kyle was sturdy and solid and holding him up like that took a lot of strength. Justin made it look easy. And the obvious love he had for his son would soften a heart harder than hers.

He settled the boy on his forearm and smiled at her. “Hi.”

Some part of her brain was still functioning and she came up with a brilliant response to his greeting. “Hi.”

“Something smells good.”

“Chicken, potatoes, vegetables. All in the Crock-Pot.” She folded her arms over her chest, an instinctively protective gesture. “It’s not fancy but should taste good.”

“Best offer I’ve had all day. I’m starved.”

Emma wasn’t sure, but she thought he was looking at her mouth when he said that. And there was something compelling and intense in his eyes, but probably that was just her imagination.

“It will be ready as soon as I thicken the juice for a gravy.”

“Lead the way. I’ll bring this guy.”

Emma was more than a little self-conscious as he followed her to the kitchen. She shouldn’t be; she was just the nanny. She’d started new jobs before and knew that this wasn’t the usual new-job nerves. Doing her best to ignore the feeling, she headed for the Crock-Pot sitting beside the cooktop.

Behind her he said, “There’s only one plate on the table.”

She finished putting meat and vegetables in small casserole dishes on a warming tray then glanced at him. “I thought you’d like alone time with Kyle.”

“And are you planning to eat?”

“Of course.”

“When and where?” he persisted.

“Upstairs. In my room.”

His eyes narrowed. “Except on her day off, Sylvia had dinner with us every night.”

“I know. But...” There was no way to put this into words that he would understand. In her interview, he’d been straightforward about the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything other than a nanny. To adequately explain why she wouldn’t eat dinner with him, she would have to confess her attraction. Other than throwing herself at him, that was probably the fastest way to lose this job.

Justin was staring at her. “It just feels wrong to me for you to segregate yourself. Too Upstairs, Downstairs.” He shook his head. “Or like you’re an orphan in a Charles Dickens book.”

That was ironic. Not only wasn’t she an orphan, she had more family than she knew what to do with.

He settled Kyle in the high chair then met her gaze. “Emma, I’d like you to have dinner with us.”

“Is that an order?”

“Of course not. It just feels...” He shrugged, as if he didn’t know how to put it into words either. “I’m trying to maintain as much family atmosphere as possible for Kyle.”

“I understand.” And she did. “Thank you.”

“I’ll set another place at the table,” he said.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She felt pleased yet awkward at the same time. And guilty that this extraordinarily nice man didn’t know the whole truth. A few minutes later the two of them were sitting in their respective places at a right angle to each other with Kyle in the middle. Emma cut chicken, cooked carrots and potato into pieces big enough for the baby to pick up with his chubby fingers but small enough so that he wouldn’t choke.

Justin filled his own plate and took a bite of meat. “This is as good as it smells.”

“I’m glad.” She spooned some of everything for herself and tasted a little bit of each, satisfied that it was all right. “It should fill you up.”

“A hearty meal for a cold night.” He glanced at his son, who was busy with his food, part eating part playing. “Kyle approves, too.”

“Do you like chicken salad?”

“Yeah.” He met her gaze. “Why?”

“I can make some with the leftovers. A little celery, cucumber. Maybe dill pickle chopped up?”

“Sounds good to me.”

She knew from her two weeks of orientation with Sylvia that he sometimes took lunch with him to Mercy Medical Clinic. “I can make a sandwich for you if you’d like. Maybe a piece of fruit and macaroni salad.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

“I’m happy to do it.” Emma was being well paid for her work, but it didn’t feel like work because she wanted to please him. That’s what bothered her the most.

Justin chewed a carrot then glanced at his son, who had little orange pieces of vegetable all over his face. “Tell me what he did today.”

“He was an angel.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it. What was this scoundrel really up to?”

She smiled. “It’s the absolute truth. He’s practically perfect. And by that I mean perfectly normal for his age.”

“What you’re diplomatically telling me is that my son got into everything. Or tried.”

“Yes, he did.”

“So, how is that perfect?”

“It’s exactly what he should be doing. Natural curiosity in a child is completely appropriate. Exploring his environment is his job.” She smiled. “And he’s really good at it.”

“He kept you running?”

She nodded. “It’s my job to make his surroundings secure. If I had a chore to do, I set up an area with a safe zone for him. And he loves to help. Folding towels, for instance. Did you know he loves the laundry basket?”

“I didn’t.” He tousled the boy’s downy, light brown hair. “Way to go, buddy.” In answer, Kyle slapped the high-chair tray, splattering food.

“And anything that needed doing in a nonsafe zone waited until he was down for a nap.” She sounded like a walking baby textbook, but it was important that he know how his son was being cared for. “He took a long one this afternoon, but now he looks tired to me. I have a feeling he’s growing.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Look at the way he’s eating.”

Justin laughed ruefully. “It’s really hard to judge how much is actually going in.”

“I gave him quite a bit and he’s not wearing that much of it,” she said, smiling at the grubby boy. “Do you like it, Kyle?” He shook his head but was grinning. “Silly.”

“That’s my boy.”

“He also needs more sleep, which is an indication of a growth spurt.”

“Good to know.”

There was silence for several moments and to fill it she said, “How was your day?”

“Calm. Routine. On schedule.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Mostly surgery follow-up appointments and I’m happy to report all the patients followed doctor’s orders and are progressing well. Then there were consultations for elective surgical procedures. Stuff like that.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary? No emergencies?”

“No. It’s a good day when that happens.”

“I’m glad.”

Uneventful was a good thing. Her life had been just the opposite of that lately. And this dinner was no exception. On the surface it was a peaceful, seemingly normal meal, but she couldn’t help feeling as if talking about their respective days blurred the line between employer and employee.

Maybe the mountain air was messing with her mind. Lack of oxygen was doing a number on her head. What felt like thirty seconds ago, she’d broken her engagement to a man she’d learned was a liar and cheat. Now here she was thinking flirty thoughts about the employer who signed her paycheck and praying she didn’t forget herself and kiss him goodbye as he went off to work.

The right thing would be to confess to him the whole truth, then offer her resignation, but she couldn’t. Not yet. For the time being she had to keep her secret.


Chapter Three

“Our first trip to the grocery store, little man.”

Not surprisingly, Emma heard no verbal response from the rear seat where Kyle was happily staring out the window of her midsize SUV. It had arrived from California, and Justin had approved the safety factor. He’d installed the baby’s car seat himself, even though all child-related equipment was in her sphere of expertise.

It was kind of endearing how seriously Dr. Flint took his responsibilities as a father. That was another check mark in her employer’s “pro” column. Not that she was actively looking for “cons,” but it would help. In the few days since she’d become the solo nanny, her attraction to him hadn’t subsided.

She drove down Main Street and turned left into the parking lot of the town’s biggest market, appropriately named The Grocery Store. There were smaller stores for gourmet olive oil, coffee, health foods and specialty items, but this was where Sylvia had suggested she go for the bulk of the shopping. There weren’t too many cars here on this weekday morning and that suited Emma just fine.

She parked and turned off the ignition, then grabbed her purse and the diaper bag before exiting. After rounding the vehicle, she opened the rear passenger door and released the straps on the car seat to lift Kyle out. Propping him on her hip, she walked to the automatic doors with neat rows of shopping carts beside them. She released one then fished the cheerful animal-print seat liner out of the diaper bag and arranged it before lifting the baby in.

“Can’t be too careful,” she told him. “There are enough germs in the world that I can’t protect you from, but this I can do.” She smiled at him and he grinned in response.

“You’re in a good mood, big guy.” His answer was an unintelligible sound that she liked to think of as affirmative.

Pushing the cart, she walked into the store and scanned the layout, preferring to pick up boxed and nonperishable items first. After that, she’d get things like milk and the cream Justin liked in his coffee.

She watched Kyle scratch at a giraffe on the seat cover. “You seem like a naturally cheerful little soul to me. Did you get that disposition from your daddy?”

She walked down the baby-products aisle and grabbed baby wipes and the largest package of disposable diapers, which she set on the very bottom of the cart. After that, she bypassed cleaning products and headed for cereal and canned goods. There was no one around and she chattered away to her little charge as she picked up canned tomatoes for a batch of marinara and some enchilada sauce for a recipe Justin liked.

“So far, your dad seems like a pretty agreeable sort, too. I sure hope so, because if he ever finds out the whole truth, I could be in trouble.”

Rounding the corner to turn down the next aisle, Emma was trying to take in everything around her and not paying attention to where she was going. In her peripheral vision she saw another shopper. Just in time to avoid a cart collision, she pulled up short and automatically apologized. Then she got a good look at the woman she’d almost hit and her heart stopped, skipped once then started to pound. There were very few shoppers in this store and of all the people to run in to...

She was face-to-face with Michelle Crawford, her biological mother.

“I’m really sorry,” she mumbled. “Not watching where I was going.”

“No harm done. You’ve got pretty good reflexes.”

Emma’s mind was racing as fast as her heart. Questions without answers rattled around in her head. Should she say something about their connection? In a place as public as a grocery store? Was there a perfect place to drop the bombshell of who she really was? Getting away as fast as possible seemed like the very best idea.

She started to push her cart past the other woman. “Have a nice day.”

“Hello, Kyle. How are you?”

Emma looked at the baby, who was staring uncertainly, as if he sensed her tension. “How do you know him?”

“The doctor brings him into the diner when Sylvia has the night off.” She looked more closely. “You must be the new nanny.”

And so much more. “That’s right.”

“Welcome to Blackwater Lake. I’m Michelle Crawford.”

“Emma Robbins. Nice to meet you.”

Emma took the hand the other woman held out, half expecting it would be a conduit to her thoughts. She braced for an aha moment that didn’t happen. It would have been too easy. She was simply a stranger, a newcomer to Blackwater Lake.

Finally she pulled herself together and met her mother’s gaze. Emma was looking into brown eyes the same shade as her own. The two of them were the same height and their hair was a similar shade of brunette, although silver streaked the other woman’s.

“I own the Grizzly Bear Diner. With my husband,” she added. Apparently she hadn’t seen Emma there. “Actually, Alan and I were co-owners with Harriet Marlow. She met a man on one of those internet dating sites and they had a phone relationship for a while because he’s from Phoenix. That went well, so he came all the way to Blackwater Lake to meet her in person. They fell in love and she decided Arizona was a good place to retire. So, my husband and I bought her out. She married him and moved away.”

“Wow.” At least someone got their happily-ever-after.

“Listen to me. Blathering on. Is that what kids call TMI?”

Too much information. Emma hadn’t thought it possible that she could laugh but she did. “No. Finding love is always good information. I guess.”

“Sounds like you have a bad story.”

“Could be.”

So far, Michelle hadn’t put her foot in her mouth, so Emma couldn’t say she’d inherited the tendency there. However, she did lean toward blathering in certain situations, although the one in progress didn’t appear to fall into that category because she wasn’t saying much.

“Where are you from, Emma?”

“Southern California.”

Should she go with the partial story she’d told Justin? The truth, even half of it, was easiest to keep straight.

But Michelle continued talking and saved her from having to respond. “Montana weather is really different from where you lived. It gets cold here in the mountains. It’s September and already heading in that direction. Are you ready for snow?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“If you need any winter-survival tips, just come over to the diner. Alan and I will be glad to help you out.”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” Emma meant that more sincerely than this woman could possibly know.

She waved a hand, dismissing the concern. “It’s no bother. You’ll find people here in Blackwater Lake are really friendly. Willing to help out their neighbors.”

“That’s good to know.” Also reassuring to learn her biological mother seemed to be a really good person.

Kyle chose that moment to join the conversation. Along with the stream of chatter, he started to wriggle in the cart, trying to pull his legs free and climb out.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Kyle?” She laughed when he held out his arms. “I think that’s my cue to get a move on.”

“Kids do let you know...”

Emma was just starting to get comfortable, to shake off the urge to run. But Kyle came first and he was obviously getting restless. “It’s time to finish up the shopping.”

“You’re not the only one. I’m due at the diner for the lunch rush. Alan will send out a search party if I’m late.”

Because a member of his family had disappeared once? She couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like.

“I’ve got to get this little one home for lunch and a nap.”

“He seems like a good baby.”

“That’s an understatement. He’s practically perfect.”

Michelle studied her. “You seem really fond of him.”

“That’s what Dr. Flint pays me for.”

“It’s more than that.” The other woman rested a palm on the handle of her basket... “The way you look at him is something a paycheck can’t buy.”

Emma shrugged. “I like kids.”

“So do I.”

“But Kyle is especially easy to like.”

“I can see that.”

Emma glanced at her watch and saw that it was pushing noon. “I’m sorry to keep you.”

“It’s all right.” But the sad, wistful expression that slid into her eyes as she looked at the baby said something was not right. The warm friendliness from moments ago faded.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really. No,” she said firmly, as if she was working hard to make that the truth. “It was nice talking to you, Emma. I hope we’ll see you in the diner.”

“Maybe.”

She watched the other woman walk away and knew this perfect, happy baby had been a reminder of what was taken from her. At first, she’d been bubbly and outgoing, then they started talking about Kyle. That had made her withdraw. Apparently, she’d learned to cope with the loss and had come to terms with it.

Seeing the change convinced Emma that she was right to keep her identity to herself. She was a grown-up now and couldn’t give the woman back the baby girl she used to be. Shaking up Michelle Crawford’s world all over again just didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

* * *

Justin walked up his front steps and realized he was whistling. He didn’t whistle; he’d never whistled. And it had nothing to do with a radio tune looping in his head because he’d been listening to news on the way home from the clinic. He realized it was a symptom of a condition he hadn’t experienced for a long time. It was called happiness.

Part of the reason was seeing his son content. Growing and thriving in this place that couldn’t be more different from Beverly Hills. The other part was about the woman who was making sure his son was happy.

Emma Robbins.

Just thinking her name produced an image of her in his mind, and the vision was enough to make his senses quiver with anticipation. If she had a flaw, he couldn’t see it. Not only was she easy on the eyes, she took care of Kyle as if he were her own. And she was a great cook. Her inclusion into the household had been seamless.

He jogged up the steps to the front door and unlocked it, then stepped inside. “I’m home.”

Justin felt an irrational impulse to add “honey.” Maybe it was time for a mental health professional to join the staff at Mercy Medical Clinic. A shrink would have a field day with him. Diagnosis: unreasonable romantic feelings where there weren’t any because he was obsessed with having an intensely loving and respectful relationship like the one his parents had enjoyed.

His first marriage had been a failure, which meant he’d already screwed up any chance of following in his mom and dad’s footsteps. That wasn’t a failure he wanted to repeat, but it was hard to remember why when he looked at Emma’s mouth.

“We’re in the kitchen,” she called out.

“On my way.”

Just the sound of her voice, which was two parts silk and one part gravel, made him want to start whistling again. He held back as he walked to his home office and put his laptop on the desk. Then he joined them at the dinner table where Emma sat beside Kyle, who was in the high chair.

“Daddy’s home,” she said to the boy.

“Da—” He didn’t look up, too deep in concentration. With tiny thumb and forefinger he picked up a pea and put it in his mouth.

Emma clapped her hands at the accomplishment. “Good job.”

The boy grinned at her praise, and then went after a small piece of cooked carrot.

“I tried to hold off his dinner until you got home,” she explained. “But he was just too hungry.”

“No problem.” The room was filled with tantalizing smells that made him realize Kyle wasn’t the only hungry guy in the family. “What’s for dinner?”

“Rigatoni and meatballs. Salad. Now that you’re here, I’ll cook the pasta.”

“Sounds good. I’ll just visit with this guy while you do that.”

Her only response was a smile that did amazing things to her mouth. One glance was like touching a hot stove and he pulled back, turning his attention to the neutral subject of peas and carrots.

Justin put a few on the plastic tray. “Here you go, buddy.”

“Da—Da—” After slapping both small hands on the vegetables, Kyle rubbed the mushed goo into his hair and over his face.

Justin laughed and said, “Code green emergency.”

Standing at the stove in front of a pot steaming with simmering pasta and another bubbling with marinara and meatballs, Emma glanced over her shoulder. “That means he likes them.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that because wearing food seems counterproductive to the goal.”

“Just wait and see how much he likes my rigatoni and red sauce.”

Justin groaned. “Dear God—”

“Prayer is pointless. Straight upstairs to the bath for him. It’s why messy meals are at night.”

“A good plan.”

“I try.”

She looked over her shoulder to satisfy herself that all was well before sliding her hands into oven mitts. After lifting the boiling pot of pasta, she poured the contents into a colander in the sink and let it drain.

Five minutes later the two of them were eating salad and Kyle was popping pieces of rigatoni into his mouth and smacking his lips.

“I know what you mean, kid. This is really good, Emma.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

For the first time, Justin had a chance to study her. There were shadows in her eyes obscuring the sparkle that he’d come to expect.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes.” She looked up quickly, but her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “Why?”

“Just checking.” He cut a meatball and forked half into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he asked, “What did you guys do today?”

“Grocery shopping.” Her mouth pulled tight for a second, then she moved lettuce around her plate without eating any.

He wasn’t imagining the tension. “How did that go?”

“Fine.”

Obviously she and Kyle were home safe and sound. The household supplies were replenished, all of which indicated a successful shopping experience. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened. Justin wanted to know what, but since it didn’t appear to have any connection to his son, he had no right to grill her like raw hamburger. For all he knew, it could be about her love life.

The background check hadn’t turned up a significant other, although that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. He didn’t like the idea of Emma being in love, but that had nothing to do with Kyle and everything to do with a feeling he’d had little experience with.

Jealousy. He wasn’t proud of it, but there was no denying the truth.

Maybe he’d ask a few questions, after all. “So what did you think of Blackwater Lake’s premier grocery store?”

The expression on her face turned wry. “It’s the only grocery store. And it seemed fine.”

“Kyle wasn’t a problem?”

“Not at all.” She cut a rigatoni and speared half with her fork but didn’t eat it. “How was your day?”

This question had come up every night since she’d taken over from Sylvia, but this time it smacked of changing the subject. There was no subtle way to push harder, so he decided to back off. But he couldn’t resist giving her a taste of her own medicine.

“My day was fine,” he said.

“I’m glad.”

After that, they made small talk while he finished dinner. She ate very little, mostly pushing her food around the plate. When Kyle got grouchy and restless, she jumped at the chance to take him upstairs for a bath.

“I’ll clean up the kitchen,” he said.

“No, leave it for me.”

Emma scooped Kyle out of the high chair and held him against her, oblivious to the red sauce and smashed peas that got all over her shirt. He couldn’t help comparing her to the baby’s mother, who wouldn’t touch her own child if he was less than immaculate.

“You do enough,” he insisted. “I don’t mind squaring things away here.”

She looked as if she wanted to protest but nodded and carried Kyle out of the kitchen and upstairs.

Justin stowed the leftovers, rinsed plates and utensils then scrubbed the pots. The busywork occupied his hands, but his mind raced. He thought about the employees at the clinic, body language and bad mood indicating when someone was dealing with a personal problem. It never occurred to him to get involved, but none of the clinic staff lived under his roof and cared for the child he loved more than anything in the world.

He heard sounds from upstairs—splashing, laughter and baby chatter. There was clinic paperwork to do, but he suddenly felt as if he were on the outside looking in. After drying his hands, he went upstairs and found the two of them in the bathroom where water was draining out of the tub.

Emma covered her front with a thick terry-cloth towel then lifted the baby out of the tub and wrapped him up. She carried him to the nursery then diapered him as quickly as possible. All the red-and-green smears were gone, although she still sported them on her clothes. But Kyle was now a clean boy with neatly combed hair.

“That was quick,” Justin said.

“He’s tired.” With quick efficiency, she put the baby in a small, soft blue one-piece sleeper and picked him up. Then she headed for the glider chair in the corner beside the crib. “It was a busy day. You can see the signs when he’s had it and is ready to go to sleep.”

“I’ll rock him tonight. You take a break.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I insist. Kyle had a busy day, which means yours was even more tiring. Just take some time and relax.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” She walked over and started to hand the baby to Justin, but he let out a wail and clung to her, curling against her with his face buried in her neck. “I’m sorry. Do you want to just grab him?”

“No.” He moved close and put his hand on the small back. “It’s okay, buddy. I know you’re tired.”

And his son wasn’t the only one. That was as good an explanation as any for his own intense reaction to the warmth of Emma’s skin, the scent of her that twisted his senses into a knot of need. The only good thing was that it pushed jealousy out of the number-one position.

“Kyle?” Emma crooned softly. “Daddy’s here. Don’t you want some man time with him?”

As if he understood, the baby lifted his head and held out his arms. Justin took him and said, “That’s my guy. We’re just going to sit in the glider and have a little chat. I’ll tell you a story. I get the feeling that reading would be a bad idea tonight.”

“I think you’re right about that.” Emma headed for the door. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t do this enough.”

The baby clinging to her was proof. On the one hand, he was glad Kyle had bonded with her so completely. The flip side of that was that Justin didn’t have the same connection. It was good to have a reminder that he needed to spend more quality time with his son.

Just before walking out of the room, Emma stopped. “Justin?”

“Hmm?” He sat in the chair and settled the baby to his chest, then met her gaze.

“Would you mind if I borrowed your computer in the office? My laptop is acting squirrelly.”

“Of course.” He smiled and started the chair gliding back and forth. Almost instantly Kyle relaxed into him. “And, for the record, squirrelly is not an official technological term.”

The corners of her full lips turned up. “And there’s a good reason for that. I don’t speak fluent tech.”

“Ah.”

“Thanks.”

Her words were light and teasing but didn’t match the expression on her face. It could only be described as tense, distracted. Before he could study her more, she was gone.

He rubbed his hand over his son’s back and moved slowly, lulling him to sleep. “What’s going on with your nanny, Kyle? You obviously are attached to her and I’m glad about that, but there’s something up with her. The good news is that she’s not very good at hiding her feelings.”

In a matter of minutes, his baby boy was sound asleep. He waited a little longer, moving gently to make sure before putting him down in the crib. A short time later, that was accomplished without a peep, and Justin covered him with a baby blanket, then softly kissed the tiny forehead.

“I love you, buddy.” For a few moments he stood over his son, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the little chest, savoring the peace of knowing his child was safe and happy.

He picked up the baby monitor and soundlessly left the room, going downstairs. Emma was nowhere in sight and he remembered she was using his home computer. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he walked down the hall and into his office. Emma’s back was to him as she looked at the computer monitor and he moved closer to the desk.

On the screen in big, bold letters was a newspaper headline that read, “KIDNAPPED! BABY GIRL DISAPPEARS. STOLEN FROM A BLACKWATER LAKE FAMILY.”

The date on the article was about twenty-eight years before, and Emma was completely engrossed in reading the information. She hadn’t heard him approach and never looked up.

This appeared to be a private thing, but Justin didn’t give a flying fig if he was overstepping. She had some explaining to do and it was going to happen now.

“Interesting stuff,” he said.

She jumped, then pressed her hand to her chest and swiveled the chair around to look at him. “Good gracious. You startled me.”

“Startling pretty well describes it. And I’m talking about what you’re reading on the computer.” The look on her face told him that she was hiding something. “What’s going on, Emma?”

“If you want to look for another nanny, I completely understand. And that would probably be best since I lied to you.”

Uh-oh. Just a while ago he’d thought that if she had a flaw he couldn’t see it. Well, she’d just pointed one out and it was a beaut. What could possibly be so bad that Emma felt she had to keep it from him? If she’d broken the law, it would have turned up in her background check. Her record was spotless yet she’d just admitted she’d been less than honest.

Could a woman as sweet as Emma seemed to be have something in her past that was worse than his own guilty secret? No one knew how he’d really felt about the wife who died and that wasn’t information he wanted to share. A problem for another day. Finding a new nanny wasn’t what he wanted and he hoped her lie turned out to be a fib about the weight on her driver’s license.

But he wasn’t whistling now.


Chapter Four

“What lie? I can’t imagine you’ve done anything that bad.”

“Justin, I...” Emma didn’t know what to say to him, how to soften what had happened to her. Then she figured there was no point in carefully picking words. Saying it straight out was the only way. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth when you asked why I picked Blackwater Lake for my vacation.”

“So, you didn’t read a book set in Montana?”

His expression was serious, but she would swear the question was meant to lighten the mood. It seemed empathetic somehow, as if he understood or at least wanted to. But he couldn’t until she explained and then she would have to accept the consequences, whatever they might be.

She realized she was sitting behind his desk and stood, rounding it to stand in front of him. She met his gaze and forced herself not to look away. “I came here to meet my biological parents.”

“So your secret is that you were adopted?”

“Not exactly.”

He looked at the computer monitor where the newspaper headline from the past screamed out. The incident was years old, but not to her. It was fresh and painful, complicated and confusing.

His eyes moved over the words of the article and the expression in them said he’d skimmed the contents and was making guesses. “What exactly?”

Emma’s legs were trembling and she desperately wanted to rest a hip against the desk but wouldn’t show weakness. This was the mess she’d made by not being completely up front with him in the beginning. It was honesty time and she’d do that standing up straight.

“I was kidnapped as a baby and raised by the woman who took me.”

Shock and anger hardened his face. “And you never knew she wasn’t your mother?”

“Not until recently. When she was diagnosed with cancer, the disease progressed very quickly. Just before she died, she confessed the truth and told me where I came from, where to find my biological family. They live here in Blackwater Lake.”

He rested a hand on the back of one of the chairs in front of the desk. “How did she explain turning up with a baby? Not being pregnant? Weren’t there questions?”

“I don’t know. I was a baby.” She shrugged. “My dad—the man I thought was my dad—died when I was a kid. She, my mother—” Emma shook her head. “She’s not my mother, but it’s hard for me to think of her any other way. What she did was wrong—”

“Yeah.”

“But I never knew her as anything other than loving and kind. She was Mom to me.” Emma looked away for a moment and shook her head. “I was too little to remember anything else. She was a single mom when they met and if my dad knew what she’d done and was complicit in the whole thing, he never did or said anything that made me question my family. I don’t know how she explained everything. And at the end she was very weak.” She shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know any different. They were my parents. She was my mother and there was never any reason to question it.”

Justin dragged his fingers through his hair then met her gaze. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

She’d love one, but she never had alcohol when there was a child in her care. It might be his way of subtly preparing her to be let go. “Unless this is your way of firing me, I’m on the job and I don’t drink when I am.”

“Emma...” He moved closer and looked down as if he wanted to touch her. It was a disappointment when he didn’t.

The yearning to burrow against him for comfort was a different kind of problem and she couldn’t deal with it right now. She studied his expression, tried to guess what he was thinking. “Justin, for all you know, I could be making this up.”

“But you’re not.”

“How do you know? I deceived you once.”

“Withholding information isn’t deception. The personal facts were yours to do with as you saw fit. And the thing is, I’m mostly a good judge of people. I was only really wrong once.” There was a grim look in his eyes. “I don’t think you’re a good enough actress to not be telling the truth about this.”

She was relieved that he believed her, but it still didn’t mean he wanted to keep her as his son’s nanny. “Don’t be nice to me. I need to know where I stand.”

He ignored that. “Kyle is asleep. One glass of wine won’t be a problem if he needs anything. And I’m here.”

Yes, he was. She was always aware of him when he was in the house. She shook her head. “I really shouldn’t.”

“You’re shaking. It will help.”

Emma looked at her trembling hands and realized he was right. She stuck them in her jeans pockets. “That sounds good. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Consider it doctor’s orders.”

He held out his hand and she put hers in it, then let him lead her from the office into the kitchen. She missed the warmth and strength of his touch when he sat her at the table and moved away. But after taking advantage of his trust, this was more consideration than she deserved. While he was busy assembling glasses and opening a bottle, she stared out the window. The patio and rear yard were illuminated by perimeter lights, but darkness and shadows hid the incredible view of the lake and the mountains beyond it.

Emma felt as if she was finally moving out of the shadows that had swirled around her for months. Whatever Justin decided about her employment she would have to live with because the decision to keep this to herself had been hers alone. But for right now it was an enormous relief to talk about everything.

He set a glass of white wine in front of her, then sat down at a right angle. “I hope you like chardonnay.”

“Right now you could give me balsamic vinegar and I’m not sure I could taste the difference.”

“It must have been a shock to find out what happened to you.”

“Shock is such a bland word to describe how I felt. It was so surreal, something that happens to other people, not to me.”

“The fact is, we’re all ‘other’ people. The news is full of ordinary human beings who have gone through extraordinary things. It’s how one copes and moves on that matters. What did your friends say?” he asked.

“I haven’t told them.”

He was just taking a drink of wine and slowly lowered the glass. “No one knows?”

“My fiancé. And now you.”

Again his surprise showed. “Really?”

“Yes. It didn’t work out. No need for you to worry that I’ll go back to him and leave you without someone to care for Kyle.” She saw more questions in his eyes, but didn’t feel like getting into it. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather not talk about him.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “But you didn’t tell your other friends about this? Why?”

Emma knew what he was really asking was why she hadn’t said anything to people she knew better than him. After sipping her wine, she said, “Mom died shortly after telling me, so there was a funeral to plan and it wasn’t something I wanted to bring up then. A decent length of time passed and I didn’t know how to start that conversation. It seemed wrong to say, You know my mother who died? She actually wasn’t my mother. She stole me from another family.”

“Why did she tell you?”

“I guess because confession is good for the soul. She wanted to clear her conscience before she died.”

“Why didn’t you come to see your biological family sooner?”

“A lot of reasons.” Emma drank more wine as she gathered her thoughts, trying to figure out how to make him understand. “I was grieving the woman who’d loved and raised me. A woman I’d loved because she was good to me. Not only that, I had a job. I’d signed a contract and there was a child to take care of. And I was engaged to be married. As the days went by, I figured I’d come to terms with everything and let it go.”

“What changed?”

“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me. He was one more trusted person in my life who was lying. I guess it hit a nerve.”

“No kidding.”

“And I’ve sworn off men.” She almost smiled. “It was more than just being hurt. I’d recently learned my whole life was a lie and to find out he was a two-faced scumbag made me question who I am. I needed to find some truth.”

“So you came to Blackwater Lake.”

“Yes. My biological parents own the Grizzly Bear Diner.”

“Michelle and Alan Crawford.” He nodded slowly as the information sank in. “So you’ve met your family.”

Emma chose her words carefully. “I’ve seen them.”

“They must have been over the moon to find out their missing daughter is alive and well.”

“I don’t know how they’d feel about that.”

His eyes narrowed. “You haven’t told them?”

“Until today, I hadn’t even talked to them.” She took a deep breath. “I ran into Michelle Crawford at the grocery store.”

“So that’s why you’ve been preoccupied.” Justin’s gray eyes darkened with questions. “How did it go?”

“She’s very nice. Friendly. And she’d looked sad when Kyle chattered nonstop in his sweet baby way. The encounter shook me. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I needed to see the newspaper accounts of the kidnapping again.”

“But she still doesn’t know?” When Emma shook her head, he said, “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling them who you are.”

“It’s complicated.”

“No kidding.” His tone was wry.

“My mother told me where they are and how to find them.” She took a big drink from her glass. “When I got here, the Grizzly Bear Diner was my first stop. Michelle and Alan were there and I watched them interacting with the customers and each other. They’re—” She struggled to figure out how to say they seemed like two people who were content and working at something they enjoyed. It was hard to express, when one picture was worth a thousand words. “They seemed okay. I didn’t want to change that.”

“And you think finding out their daughter is alive would be a bad thing?”

“What happened to them was bad.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” But his eyes narrowed. “Still, you said nothing?”

“There’s probably no way for you to understand, but I just couldn’t.”

“So why didn’t you go back to California?”

There was the burning question, and she didn’t have an answer. “I couldn’t do that, either.”

“But you needed a job while you figure it all out.”

It wasn’t a question, but she felt he deserved an answer, anyway. “Yes, and you wouldn’t have hired me if I’d told you all that.”





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