The Nanny Solution (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

A
s the children tucked into their evening meals on Thursday, Mitch heard Jake blow out a sigh as though they'd dodged a stampede of wild horses. Was it because he was afraid the meal wasn't good enough for them? Hardly. Jake was a pretty good cook for a cowboy. He'd even insisted that Mitch plant some herbs around the door so that “food didn't taste like old socks,” as he'd once said.

No, Jake's relief couldn't be about the cooking. Was it about the sale of the heifers? Yesterday, Jake had disappeared, right after Mitch had left Victoria and her shocked expression. But during that time, he'd somehow managed to convince the other ranchers to buy Mitch's stock, a task for which Mitch was very grateful. Then, he'd shown up with the money, adding that they needed to deliver the heifers by week's end. Saturday.

Mitch hadn't gone to the bank yet because the mortgage wasn't due till next week. First he wanted to pay his bill at the general store. He also wanted to send Jake to pay Victoria for her help on the train. It was better if Jake went. Victoria had commanded Mitch's thoughts every second since he'd last seen her, especially at night. He needed sleep, not to be reminded of the hurt in that woman's eyes when he asked her if she knew where the kitchen was.

All right, that hadn't been a fair question. But the point had hit home. She wasn't meant for frontier life. Oh, it was fine for her to play the fancy visiting heiress, but as much as she might want to help, he knew it would be a miserable failure.

“What's wrong, Mitch? You're pushing good food around the plate like it's a game.”

Mitch looked down at his plate. Jake had cooked up some meat, made a decent gravy and managed to boil potatoes just right.

“You haven't touched your food,” Jake pointed out. “It's good. Look at the kids.”

Mitch glanced around the table. All the children had polished off the plates set before them.

“It was good,” Matthew assured.

Mitch's gut tightened. “What did you normally eat for supper?”

“Beans and bread. And porridge.”

“Did you have any meat?”

Matthew shrugged. “On Sundays when the ladies from the church came around with it.”

Mitch pushed his food away. John and Ralph looked at his plate with interest. What had happened to the money he'd sent to Boston every other month? How had Agnes spent it? There had been nothing in her apartment. He'd searched it thoroughly. Had the cost of living in Boston increased so much that Agnes hadn't been able to keep up? Shame welled up in him.

He scraped back his chair and stood. “All you kids help Jake clean up. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Are we going back to see Miss Templeton?”

Mitch looked down at Ralph's hopeful expression. “No. We have work to do here. I have an errand for Jake, so I'll need you all here to help me.”

Jake shifted in his seat. “Okay, but I'm still workin' on that list of chores you gave me before you went out east.” He paused and when Mitch said nothing, he continued, “Don't forget that you need to go to the land registry office. You need to take your wife's name off the deed.”

And put Emily's on it
, Mitch added to himself.

Jake was still talking. “Not to mention getting that money put in the bank.” He looked over at Emily. “And ask Pastor Wyseman if he knows of a woman who can come out here. You might have an errand for me, but those things you need to do.”

Mitch grimaced. He'd been looking forward to catching up on the rest of the work around here, but Jake was right. Only he could do those tasks.

When he'd gone to town last, yesterday, his time had been taken up with getting supplies and seeing Victoria. By the time everything was loaded into the wagon, both the bank and the land registry office were closed. Yesterday, he'd worked on getting a routine started, but Emily had fussed with the milk he'd purchased. Even now, in her basket, she squirmed. He grimaced. Could Victoria have been right about the milk?

No. She knew nothing about milk and babies. And while on the train, she had sloughed off her duty onto another woman. Well, he wouldn't slough off his. He would raise the children. And he'd give Victoria her salary instead of sending it in with Jake. He would do what was right.

He grabbed his plate. “I'll go first thing in the morning, but you'll have to keep the children here. I'll make sure Emily is fed first.”

“That milk makes her sick,” Jake announced. “I should bring the ewe close to the house. Maybe her milk is better. Her latest lamb is ready to graze on his own.”

Mitch rubbed his forehead. He'd only been following the doctor's orders. Babies sure were complicated little things. And they generated a whopping pile of laundry, too.

He needed help and he needed it fast.

* * *

The morning sun had just reached the top of Castle Rock when Mitch met Pastor Paul Wyseman. The man was just finishing his prayers at the front of Proud Bend's only church. The day, like most in midautumn, had promised and was delivering warm sunshine. If only Pastor Wyseman's answer had been equally welcoming. The pastor had listened without comment as Mitch asked if he knew of a potential housekeeper.

He held his breath now. “Let me make some inquiries,” Paul finally said. “But we're a small town and I can't think of any woman off the top of my head. I can ask in Castle Rock, if you like, but why not hire the woman who traveled with you?”

Working his jaw, Mitch folded his arms. “Do you know who that was?”

Paul shook his head. “No. I just know you hired a woman in Boston to act as a nanny.”

“That was only a temporary position. She's come to live with the Smiths. She's their niece.”

Paul's expression brightened. “I think I know of her. Do you think she's unsuitable?”

Mitch didn't want to say anything, but how could he make his pastor understand why it would be a mistake to hire her without revealing too much? Yet, couldn't he trust the man to be discreet? “Victoria pawned off the main task of caring for Emily onto another woman. She said the milk I bought was making Emily sick.”

Paul cocked his head as he studied Mitch. An uncomfortable flush rose in him.

“Did she know how to care for Emily? In my ministry, I see young girls finding themselves with child and unable to care for them simply because they've not learned to do so. We can't expect a man to be able to build a barn without being trained, and I can see that motherhood is the same way.”

“Perhaps so, but that doesn't change the fact she traded a dress for my daughter's care.”

“So she pawned off her duty on another woman? Did she not want to care for Emily?”

“It wasn't that,” Mitch explained. “She said she had Emily's best interests at heart.”

“Isn't that what you have?”

“Of course!”

“Why?”

“She's my daughter.”

Paul frowned reproachfully. “We both know that Emily isn't your daughter, Mitch.”

Head flooded into Mitch. “That's got nothing to do with it.”

Paul leaned forward and gripped his arm. “I'm not being argumentative, Mitch. I just want you to see another point of view.”

“She didn't even try with Emily.”

“It seems to me that Victoria tried her best under unfamiliar circumstances. It sounds like her life has been turned upside down, as well.”

Mitch didn't want to hear any sympathy for Victoria. She'd only end up hurting the whole family. Okay, maybe he could forgive her for trading Emily's care, but that didn't mean the woman who popped into his thoughts at the most inopportune times should be in his family's lives.

Lord, why is this happening?

Paul released his arm. He was a calm, plainspoken man who had heartfelt compassion for all his flock. “My condolences on the loss of Agnes. I wish I had known her.”

Bitter pride rose in Mitch. “Why? We both know what she did.”

“It was hard for you here, Mitch, but it was hard for her back east, I'm sure. I don't condone her actions, but we are all sinners. You're doing right by your wife, as you should, but we have to remember that all sin is equal.”

Mitch tightened his jaw. What sin in his life was equal to that? He scowled at his pastor. “But the consequences aren't equal.”

“Nor is doing right going to erase the sin in your own life,” Paul added. “We all have it. Slothfulness, idolatry. Pride.”

Mitch stiffened.

There was a distinct pause. “Is there anything more I can do for you?” Paul finally asked, his tone gentle.

Though the words were polite, Mitch knew that his pastor meant them with the fierceness of Mitch's own words. But he shook his head.

He needed time alone. To consider the words meant to teach him.

“Here's my advice, Mitch,” the pastor said into the ensuing silence. “While I ask around about a woman who can help you, take time to consider what it all means. Prayerfully consider it. And ask yourself why you have Emily here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you bring her here?”

“Are you suggesting I brought her here to prove my sin is less than my wife's? That I am a better person?” Mitch didn't want his pastor to believe that. “Because that's not why.”

“Then did you take her because she needs a family or because of another reason?” Paul held Mitch's gaze. “I remember when you first got your ranch, and how you had Agnes own half of it. Did she have a will? Did she leave her share to you, or the children, including Emily?”

Stunned, Mitch eased back. Paul was a smart man to guess who co-owned the ranch, but did he really believe that was the only reason Mitch had brought the baby here? It was unfair.

The pastor correctly assessed his reaction. Still staring at Mitch, he lifted his brows. “So, if I can be mistaken about that, think of how you could be mistaken about Victoria. Perhaps there is a plan in all of this with her.”

“I'm not mistaken, and there is no plan that includes her.” He straightened. “Thank you. As you might assume from correctly guessing Agnes's will, I need to see to the deed changes. I can only hope the staff is discreet.”

Paul pondered the idea, then nodded. “At the recorder's office? I believe they are. Most are in my congregation and understand there is a certain expectation of privacy. Your pride won't be tested there, I'm sure.”

There he went again. Gentle words that were heavy with admonishment. All Mitch wanted was to remind them of that expectation of privacy, and not set tongues a-wagging after he left. Because he didn't want anything hurting his children. He knew how that felt. He'd been devastated when he'd learned that his favorite uncle had been killed in the war. He'd been left in the street crying when a little girl, a tattletale, had repeated the words she'd heard over the back fence. The sad news should have come from his parents.

That was the only reason why he wanted discretion. To spare the children.

Still, a voice inside of him whispered,
Are you sure it's not your pride?

He focused on Paul again. “I thought at first that Agnes had changed her will because she believed her end was near, but she didn't specify a guardian. Now I believe she did it to force me to raise Emily.”

“There is much more to being a father than just being there at conception.”

Just like there was more to caring for a child than putting food on the table. Mitch felt his jaw clench at his own admonishment. Still, bitterness and pride pricked him. “I have work to do,” he groused to his friend. “Good day.”

With that, he stalked out of the church.

* * *

So there Victoria was, pushing open the recorder's office door, all the while searching the dim, quiet interior for Clare. The woman had sent a note early this morning, inviting her to lunch. Since it had been the only exciting thing to happen since she'd arranged to buy Mitchell's heifers, Victoria had jumped at the diversion.

She hadn't realized how full her days on the train had been until the days here loomed ahead of her like the mountains loomed above Proud Bend. Rachel slept in most days, and Aunt Louise was always running the household. Victoria was left to stare at the walls.

Her heart squeezed at the memory of the train ride. How was it possible to miss the children so much?

And Mitchell? Did she miss him? A part of her wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of her found him infuriating. Honestly, what on earth was it about him that both interested and frustrated her?

The pain behind his expression? Mix that with stubborn pride and one had a man like Mitchell.

Or was she frustrated at her inability to help?

Inside the recorder's office, Victoria glanced around, refusing to answer her private questions. From the back of the office, Clare, quite cheerfully, lifted her hand in greeting.

Victoria swallowed the jealousy suddenly rising in her. Why was she this way? Frustrated at Mitchell, jealous of Clare? She was a poor Christian, indeed. She should be happy that Clare found a position so quickly. Victoria forced out a smile and waved back.

Perhaps if she learned what Clare did in the office, Victoria could apply for a job there, too. She had to find some employment, for last night Uncle Walter had suggested a dinner party so she could meet Clyde Abernathy properly.

Victoria's stomach soured at the thought. She needed to do something. She wasn't Rachel with her courage to refuse. She was the poor relation.

Clare hurried up to her, her closely tailored skirt swishing as she squeezed between a pair of desks. In fact her whole outfit, a lovely blue shirt and skirt, with an ecru tie and dark vest was perfect for her new job.

“I'm glad you were free,” she said brightly. “I know so few people here I was beginning to think I was some kind of outcast.”