September Wind (27 page)

             
“
Oh, yes. Otto took me straight up. It’s beautiful.” She glanced around the room again. “Everything is.”

             
Lifting his glass, he gave the room a quick perusal. “Well, it’s here to enjoy for as long as you’re with us.” He took a generous drink, setting it aside. “You’ll hear no complaints from the help.” He said this with such pride, she noticed.

             
She still couldn’t believe she would be in charge of two young children. She, who could barely take care of herself! “You mentioned that you do a bit of traveling. I was wondering if there’re any special duties I’ll have when you’re gone. Any extra chores?”

             
“
Chores?” he said with a smirk. “No, there’ll be no chores. Besides the regular help, there’s a crew that comes in once a week. Your job is to keep the children out of trouble. The little devils will run you over if you let them.” He sighed. “Sometimes they can be as ornery as their mother.”

             
Emily was shocked by his cruel remark. After all, their mother was dead. They couldn’t be that bad. She didn’t want to give up hope just yet, although it sounded as if Maria and Nathan might’ve run off the other nannies. Maybe that’s why he settled for someone who, like he said, didn’t have any other options.

             
“
Do the children have any particular needs, or, I don’t know... something they like to do after class?”

             
“
I gather they like what normal children do. Watch television, play games, and spend time out in the back yard. They should anyway after their mother spent a fortune fixing it up.”

             
“
So... uhm, how old are they?”

             
“
Hmm, let’s see. Nathan’s around six… no, more like seven. Maria’s eight.”

             
“
Sir,” Otto said, holding the pitcher of mix, “would you like your cocktail freshened?”

             
Donald nodded, reached for his drink, and slowly polished it off. Then he carefully, almost tenderly, set the glass on the table and sat back. He looked handsome, sitting there patiently waiting for his refill. She wondered if this was the side of him Desirae and the other girls saw.

             
Whether it had been a fleeting thought on his part, this side of him didn’t last. She sensed an abrupt mood change as he picked up his cocktail and drank it half down.               He finished his meal in silence, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then carefully folded it onto his plate. When he looked up at her, it was as if a shade had been pulled over his eyes.

             
“
I have some business to attend to, but there are a few things I need to go over with you. Let’s meet in the library in... oh,” he looked at his watch, “in thirty minutes. The library is across the hall from the front staircase.”

* * * *

When Emily stepped into the library, she was surprised to see three walls entirely filled with bookcases. She searched in awe through the titles, lifting a few out for a look inside until Donald walked in.

             
“
How long did it take you to collect these?” she asked.

             
“
Oh, those,” he said with a brush of a hand, “they came with the house.”

             
She replaced the book to its spot on the shelf, amazed he didn’t seem more enthused.

             
“
We’ll sit over here,” he said, taking a seat on one of two brown leather couches facing each other in front of a fireplace. They had barely settled in when Otto came with refreshments.

             
Donald ate half his cake, took several sips of coffee, and then leaned back. “Let me get right to the point, Emily. Your job is to take care of the children. However, more important are the rules I’m about to lay down. As long as they’re followed, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

It was as if a cold wind had swept into the room and settled around them. She couldn’t think clear enough to ask him what happened if she slipped up. What if she made a couple of mistakes...
what then?

“Rule number one is that the telephone is off-limits to the children. The only phone available to you is in my downstairs den to the right of the front entrance. You’ll need Pearl to open it for you and that’s for emergencies only.”

              There was never a telephone back at the farm, and she was relieved he had one, although having such strict limitations was puzzling. She couldn’t imagine he was trying to save money.

             
“
Rule number two is that my private quarters on the East wing of the second floor are absolutely out of bounds to you, and to the children. And let me warn you.” He made a point of catching her eye. “There are no second chances.”

             
She shivered to think what he had in mind. “I-I understand, Mr. Schillings.”

             
“
Now, for rule number three. What goes on in my house is my business, and I forbid you to repeat anything you see or hear. You as well as the rest of my employees are here to work, not gossip or snoop where you don’t belong. Is that clear?”

             
Oh, shit. What’ve I gotten into?

             
“
Is that clear?”

             
“
Y-yes… yes, it is.”

             
She’d left an obnoxious clan a thousand or so miles away, left a whorehouse sixty miles north, and then to end up with this...
man
that everyone else seemed elated just to know
.

“Very good then,” he said, working his mouth into a smile. At least she thought it was a smile.

              He began on rule number four. But before he could finish there was a knock on the door.

             
Otto poked his head in the doorway. “Mr. Schillings. Harold is here to see you. He says it’s urgent. He’s in the front den, sir.”

             
“
Tell him I’ll be right there.”

             
Otto disappeared, and Donald picked up his coffee and stood. “I’ll be busy for the rest of the night,” he said, moving across the room, “so you’re free to go. We’ll finish our talk later.”

             
He stopped at the door and looked back. “Now don’t forget, your day begins at eight. Make sure the children are up and dressed for breakfast. Once they go in with their tutor, you’re free until after class.”

             
When he left, she stared at the door, ready to burst into tears. All of her high expectations had been shattered. The children would be a handful, at best. And as far as her new boss? Something told her to run for her life.

             
She could walk out this very minute, or… Or what? She looked at the hundreds and maybe thousands of books on the selves, and thought of the beautiful bedroom waiting for her upstairs. It looked much better than the dark lonesome road into a town. If staying was worth taking a chance on him… well, it looked as if she would find out.

When she left the library a little after nine-thirty with an arm full of books, she noticed a man leaving through the front entryway. The door he had come from was ajar, and suddenly Donald’s voice blazed out into the hallway. Still debating whether she should or not, she approached the door. She could tell right away that he was talking on the telephone.

              “
Dam it, Flora, I’ve told you before, there’s no point in calling. When’re you going to get that through your thick head? How’d you get my new number anyway?” There was a pause. “Fine, don’t tell me. But believe me, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

             
Silence.

             
“
Oh, now how in the world am I supposed to know how to get one of those?”

             
He listened again, sighed and then said, “I don’t know... maybe. But I don’t need you hounding me about it.”

             
There was silence again, and then he growled, “All I have to say about that is for you to tell Kenneth that I haven’t forgotten which airline he works for.” He slammed the receiver down.

             
His chair creaked as he stood and when his hurried footsteps approached, Emily rushed for the stairway and up to her room.

             
She dropped the books on the bed, kicked off her shoes and crawled in. Sleep hadn’t come easily the previous night and it wasn’t long before she drifted off.

             
A few hours later, she was awakened by a low, vibrating rumble. She sat up, scooted off the bed and went to the window. By then, the strange noise had stopped. In its place was what sounded like a pack of wild dogs. This sudden invasion of her sleep was startling, so foreign, and frightening in this strange house. Even back at the farm—except for those late evening and early morning thunderstorms, familiar at least—night had always been a tranquil time of slumber.

             
She returned to the bed, undressed, and pushed the books to the side. Then she pulled the bottle of brandy from her bag and crawled in. She unscrewed the lid and took several gulps.

What had her so puzzled was why Donald Schillings chose her to take care of his children. For heaven’s sake, I’m sitting in bed drinking brandy out of a bottle. I worked in a whorehouse. I killed a man.

She took another drink, set the bottle on the nightstand, and curled up under the covers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The next morning, she reached for the brandy before her eyes were properly focused. Up on an elbow, she tipped the bottle back and waited for the warmth of the alcohol to seep into her veins on the way down. This was just for her first day, she told herself, to knock off the nerves before meeting the little rascals.

              She dressed, brushed her teeth, and gargled until the taste of alcohol was gone. On the way out the door, the brandy bottle caught her eye and she went back and placed it inside the nightstand cupboard.

She padded downstairs, made her way up the same hallway she traveled the night before. She passed the family room, the formal dining room where she had dinner with Donald, past another door she figured must be the foyer that led to the kitchen, and then out the back door onto a large slab of cement.

              A few feet to her left were steps leading up to a patio. To her far right off into a play area was the swing and a slide. To the right of the play area, just down from where she stood, was the basketball hoop.

             
Straight on from the house was a sidewalk made of stone slabs stretching a few hundred feet across the lawn into a forest. All around its perimeter—about four acres—were mounds of dirt covered with varieties of bushes and flowers. Unable to resist, she made her way into the trees where the stone path broadened into a large courtyard.

             
Near the entrance stood an impressive pond, four bird feeders, three cement benches, and a number of chairs on either side. Beyond the courtyard were three paths, two leading directly into the forest, and another that took the way around.

             
She chose the path straight ahead, and continued on as it wound up and down and around bends. No more than two or three minutes later, she found herself standing beneath an arbor of rosebushes. Inside was a beautiful flower garden with statues of little men and woman holding pots of flowers. In the middle was a bench beneath another arbor. At the far corner, a young girl with long blond curls was kneeling beneath a tree. Maria.

             
Emily felt like an intruder, and as she attempted a quick exit, she nearly tripped over a weather-beaten stick horse. She regained her balance and looked back as Maria scrambled to her feet. Her pale oval face was angelic-like even though her blue eyes looked on crossly.

             
“
Sorry for bothering you,” Emily said, watching her stroll over. “Sometimes I’m such an oaf.”

             
Maria approached, lifted a rope from around a branch, freeing her play horse. She swung a leg over and looked up, her eyes softener now as she gazed upon Emily.               “You make that skirt?”

             
“
Yeeeah. How could you tell?”

             
Maria raised her brows and moved her eyes up and to the right in some sort of secret code. Then she turned and galloped up the sidewalk. “At least you’re not cranky like the last one. You hungry?” she added happily, as if they had known each other for a while. “I’ll bet Pearl has breakfast on by now.”

             
Emily hurried after her, not sure what to think of this beautiful but strange little creature. “Good, I’m famished.”

             
“
You can meet Nathan too. Sometimes he’s such a brat,” Maria called over a shoulder. “I thought later us three could have lunch outside.”

             
“
You mean like a picnic, under a tree?”

             
“
Yep”

             
“
Sounds like fun.”

             
When they reached the house, Maria flung the stick horse aside.

             
Emily had to force herself not to laugh. “You’ve had that for a while, huh?”

             
“
It’s junk,” Maria said sourly. “I need a real one.”

             
“
So is your father going to buy you a horse?”

             
“
Nah,” the little girl said, pushing the door open.

             
Emily followed her down the hallway, through a door, then up the foyer. At the far end was a side entryway. To the left was a door Emily realized led to the formal dining room. To the right was an enormous open area with white walls, black molding, and dark hardwood floors. The large black and white kitchen was to the right. The lower cabinets were black with white countertops, and the upper cabinets were white. Straight ahead in front of a large window was a breakfast nook. To the left was a dining area.

             
Pearl was at the stove with an arm wrapped around a large bowl, ladling pancake mix into a frying pan. Bacon sizzled on the back burner.

             
“
Here she is, Pearl,” Maria said, pulling her into the kitchen.

             
Emily looked down at a stout brooding woman who she didn’t think could be much over four feet tall. Her gray hair was twisted into a loose bun and her full face was red from the heat. “Hi, Pearl,”

             
The woman looked up at Emily with fading blue eyes slanted like the shape of a half moon. “Hi yourself.” She dropped a plastic spatula into the bowl and motioned. “You two go on and take a seat. Where’s that brother of yours, Maria? I’ve got pancakes warming in the oven and more cooking.”

             
They sat at the table, Emily next to the window that overlooked the patio. Pearl brought over a plate of pancakes just as Nathan barreled into the room.

             
“
Stop running!” Maria hollered. “You’re gonna fall and break another tooth.”

             
Nathan stood with his hands on the back of his chair, wagging his tongue. “Can’t make me.”

Pearl forked a couple of pancakes and bacon onto his plate. “Sit, young man, and eat!” She set the platter in front of Emily, shoved a container of jelly over to Maria, and then set off into the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess.

Emily could see that Nathan took after his father with the dark hair and eyes, although the lines of his nose and chin were softer, more pleasing. He pulled out his chair, and sat, glancing at her with a mischievous smile.

             
“
Hi, Nathan.”

             
He reached for the syrup, glancing up again. “Hi.”

             
Maria smeared jelly on her pancake. “Guess what, Nathan. We’re goin’ on a picnic.”

             
“
We are?”

             
Emily caught Pearl’s eye over the counter. “Is that all right?”

             
“
Fine with me. Long as you tell me when, so I can put everything out on the patio…”

             
“
Today, Pearl,” Maria said. “Only we’re sitting under a tree, so we need a sack lunch, and a blanket.”

             
“
You can just as well get your own blanket.”

             
“
Whoopee!” Nathan squealed, kicking his legs so they hit the bottom of the table.

             
Maria covered her ears. “If you stop screeching, you weirdo. And stop kicking the table.” She slid down in her chair and aimed a kick at him.

             
“
Stop it, you creep. Pearl! Maria’s trying to kick me.”

             
“
Nathan called me a creep.”

             
“
Emily, they’re all yours.” Pearl chuckled, picked up a load of dishes, and waddled to the sink.

             
The room became silent as the children’s eyes turned to Emily.

             
“
I...” She swallowed, willfully, ready to face the challenge. “Stop your bickering... or... Or no picnic.” She thought the children looked more amused than threatened and narrowed her eyes so they’d know she meant business. She was satisfied when they showed what looked like mild fear. She cleared her throat then, smiling at her success. “Excuse me,” she said, reaching for the syrup.

             
After breakfast, they went out to the backyard to find the tree where they would have lunch.

             
Emily hadn’t forgotten the noise she heard the previous night and expected a couple of dogs to come charging around a corner at any moment. “Maria? Where’re your dogs, anyway?”

             
“
You probably mean Harold’s dogs. They live with him out in the brush.”

             
“
Yeah. And they’re killer dogs,” Nathan growled scratching the air with a claw-like hand.

             
Maria nudged him. “Oh, who told you that?”

             
He leaped in the air and grabbed a branch, swinging back and forth. “I just know. And Harold’s as mean as they are.”

             
Maria glared at him. “That’s ’cause you bug him like you do everyone else.”

             
“
I’m sure your dad wouldn’t allow killer dogs so close,” Emily said.

             
Nathan dropped to the ground. “Yoou’ll see.” Then he punched Maria in the arm and ran off.

“You brat!” she squealed, starting after him.

              “
Hey, Maria, just let him go.”

             
She turned back sourly. “I hate him.”

             
“
He’s not that bad, is he?”

“Mean as the dogs are. Only they don’t come over and
bother
me.”

Emily burst out laughing. “That’s good, I guess.”

              The two headed back to the house and Emily decided to get one more thing out of the way. “Say, Maria? I was just wondering. Did your father set up an airport or something?”

             
“
Don’t think so. Why?”

             
“
A noise woke me last night, and I–”

             
“
Oh, that. It’s just the neighbors.”

             
Her casual response made Emily feel silly for being concerned in the first place.

             
During the next few weeks, Maria and Nathan tried to pull the wool over her eyes a number of times. She used her scruples, bothered Pearl for the facts if she had too, although that was always a pain. The woman had a gripe of some sort. Emily made sure not to get on her bad side.

She heard the low rumble again, but knowing it was the neighbor’s affair, it no longer startled her. Though she was curious, it wasn’t enough to get into something that was none of her business.

She hadn’t forgotten the way Donald laid down his rules. Since their meeting in the library that first night, there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t think about how and why she had ended up where she was. Having the children under her care wasn’t always easy, but it was a blessing in that it allowed her hours of peace away from memories that would sometimes leave her distraught and in tears. Her stay at the Schillings’ estate may just postpone the inevitable, although seeing no way out for the moment she made a concerted effort to put her mind on her responsibilities and not her past.