The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) (11 page)

“Polly said she’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve proven my worth in taking care of you all,” Louisa said, putting on the airs of a much older girl. “I imagine it won’t be long now, since I’m almost all grown up.”

At twelve, Louisa was hardly almost all grown up. And once again, Polly couldn’t help but think of the unfairness of having to act as such when she’d needed the time to be a child.

Polly had never gotten to be a child, and from the way Louisa hung back, and the conversation they’d had earlier in the day, neither had Louisa.

Would it be so bad to stay with Mitch until the children were grown? Isabella had rested her head against Polly’s chest, contentedly plucking the petals off her flowers.

Polly looked up at Louisa. “We shall see. You still have a long way to go, and in the meantime, I’d like for you to enjoy your life.”

Farther down the meadow, Mitch was gathering the boys to take them fishing. “Perhaps you could start by going fishing with your father.”

“Fishing!” Clara jumped up. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to go fishing. I’ve read about it in books, and it sounds fantastic! Louisa, come! You must try it!”

Louisa made a noise. “Fishing is for babies.”

“Not at all.” Polly smiled at the younger girl. “I still go fishing with my brothers, as well as the other children from the parsonage. Both Maddie and my mother love cooking fresh fish for supper, and I’m sure that if we all try, there will be plenty for tonight. In fact, given that she knows we’ve gone up here, I’m certain that she’s counting on us.”

That might have been a slight stretch of the truth. Whenever they came up here, Maddie always hoped they’d bring back enough fish for supper. But sometimes they returned empty-handed, and Maddie still had plenty on the table for all.

“I fish?” Isabella looked up at her.

“Certainly. I’ll help you.”

Isabella jumped up and tugged at Polly’s hand. “Come!”

Polly looked over at Louisa, who appeared doubtful. “I don’t know how to fish. It’s not ladylike.”

Polly sighed. On one hand, Louisa did have a point. Fishing was not the most ladylike pastime. But here, in Leadville, it didn’t matter so much what made a lady. Though many put on airs and tried to seem more important than they were, the truth was, life in Leadville was rough. Yes, it was the largest city in Colorado and boasted many of the refinements of cities back east, but it was still a wild land, untamed, and sometimes survival was more important than upholding the ladylike ideal.

“Perhaps it’s not something one does in high-society drawing rooms, but if you’re ever in a situation where you might be forced to go hungry otherwise, fishing is a good skill to have. Besides...” Polly grinned. “Fishing is loads of fun. My good friend Annabelle and I used to go fishing all the time.”

A small pang filled Polly’s heart as she remembered the girlhood joy they’d had at going fishing, before their lives and friendship had grown complicated. Before Annabelle’s mother died. Catherine Lassiter had taught Polly so much about what it meant to be a lady in this rough town. Polly’s mother had taught her all about what it took to survive, but Catherine’s lessons had been equally important. Especially in the importance of what it meant to be a child.

“I’m sorry,” Louisa said softly, “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Polly looked up at her, shaking her head. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m sorry. I was just lost in my memories. We had some good times here, growing up.”

“But it made you cry.” Louisa pointed to Polly’s cheek.

Reaching up, Polly felt the damp spot where a tear had fallen. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“What made you so sad?”

Polly took a deep breath. “I just remembered what it was like to be taught how to be a child.” She smiled at Louisa, who wore a puzzled expression.

“I know you want to help your father and prove that you’re an adult. But don’t miss out on the joys of being a child. The grown-up responsibilities will come soon enough.”

Polly pointed to the stream where Clara and Rory were more intent on splashing each other than on listening to their father’s instructions on fishing. “I was forced to grow up too fast, taking care of my siblings and the other children in camp. But the things that I remember the most were times like those, where I was allowed to be a child and have fun. The tear you saw was of regret, of not having more of those moments.”

The puzzled expression didn’t leave Louisa’s face, and it probably wouldn’t. Not until years later, when Louisa remembered how, instead of participating in the fun, she’d stood to the side and tried to do all the work that wasn’t hers, to be the parent it wasn’t her responsibility to be. Louisa would stand by her conviction now, but years later, when it was too late, she’d regret giving up her childhood so easily.

Having done the same herself, Polly wasn’t about to allow that to happen for Louisa.

“Polly!” Isabella tugged at her hand. “Come! They get all the fish wifout us.”

Polly grinned. “Come on, Louisa. Join us. I’m not going to be convinced of your ability to help with the others unless you’re also willing to join in and be a child yourself.”

Louisa sighed, but she followed them over to the stream, where the sound of laughter greeted them. The only lines Polly spied on Mitch’s face were the laugh lines crinkling his eyes.

And his laugh...it sparked joy in every cell in Polly’s body, listening to him as he and Thomas chased a fish thrashing on the banks.

“Allow me,” Polly said, grinning.

She helped them catch the slippery fish, impressed by its large size.

“Papa helped,” Thomas exclaimed with pride, “but I mostly did it all by myself.”

Mitch beamed as he looked at her. “Only in bringing it in. It’s been so long since I’ve taken a day to fish, I nearly forgot myself.”

“I got more worms!” Rory rushed toward them, a fistful of worms dangling from his fingers.

“Ew!” Louisa exclaimed. “That’s disgusting!”

“Not as disgusting as you, birdbrain!” Rory flung one of the worms at his sister.

Louisa squealed as she jumped out of the way of the writhing creature.

“Rory.” Polly kept her voice calm and as modulated as possible. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“But worms aren’t disgusting, they’re wonderful.”

She smiled at the boy, who’d opened his hands to show off his prize. “True, but Louisa doesn’t know that. Perhaps instead of trying to upset her, you should educate her on all the reasons worms are so wonderful.”

Rory frowned for a moment, but then his eyes lit up. “They make gardens grow, and the birds and the fish eat them, and so we can use them to help us fish because the fish want to eat the worm, and then we can catch the fish, then we get to eat the fish.”

He turned to Polly. “We do get to eat the fish, right?”

“We do. Maddie fries up the most delicious fish you’ve ever tasted. But we’ll have to do much better than this to make sure there’s enough for everyone. Uncle Frank loves to eat fish.”

“All right!” Rory raced toward the edge of the stream and dumped the worms in his pail, then began preparing his pole to catch more fish.

Mitch smiled warmly at her. “I don’t think I’ve done this since I was a boy.”

“Then I’m glad to have afforded you the opportunity. Perhaps you can take the children again. I’m sure they’d enjoy it.”

The look he gave her made her hot and cold all at once. “We will definitely be taking them again.”

We. Because somehow in all this crazy mess, they’d become a team. Mitch wanted to be a part of raising his children as much as Polly was working to help him. She’d never doubted his role in the process, but as she was learning, he hadn’t ever known how to truly be a father to them. Or, as she recalled from their earlier conversation, perhaps he hadn’t been allowed.

Working together, things were different. But as his gaze seared her skin, Polly had to wonder how different they were going to continue to be. Oh, she meant for things to be long-term between them, at least as far as the children were concerned, but was there another implication? Everyone seemed to be pushing them together as a couple, and while she found Mitch far more attractive than she should...

Polly shook her head. Enough of this nonsense. Being saddled with Mitch meant exploring places of her heart that she wasn’t willing to explore.

She turned to the children. “Who else has caught a fish?”

Thomas gave a gleeful shout. Clara still seemed happy enough playing at the edge of the stream, occasionally sending splashes in Rory’s direction. Rory scowled at his sister.

“Stop scaring away the fish!”

“Come on, Clara. Rather than bothering with Rory, perhaps we should see if you can catch one of your own.”

Clara stuck her tongue out at Rory before coming toward Polly. “You mean it? You think I can catch a fish? Rory says fishing’s not for girls.”

“Of course it’s for girls.” Then she turned to Mitch with a grin. “Why don’t we make it a competition? Boys against girls. Whoever catches the most fish will be the winners, and the losers will have to gut all the fish.”

“That’s not fair,” Rory said. “There are more girls than boys.”

“Isabella doesn’t count,” Clara said, pointing at her sister.

Isabella sat in the mud, poking it with a stick. “I catch fish!”

“She has a point,” Mitch said, smiling. “I don’t think Isabella’s going to catch much of anything. Besides, I think we can still beat them.”

Polly turned to Louisa. “Do you hear that? We’ll need your help if we’re going to win.”

Louisa let out a long sigh. “I suppose. But you’re going to have to show me what to do.”

“This is going to be easy.” Rory let out a guffaw and turned back to where he’d been fishing.

Polly handed out poles, and the girls found spots along the bank. Soon, everyone was fishing, and Polly was grateful to have found a small bend in the stream where Isabella could poke her stick in the mud and Polly could still tend her line.

“Something’s on my line!” Louisa’s voice was a mixture of panic and elation. “What do I do?”

Mitch was closest to her, and before Polly could react to Louisa’s statements, he was already moving in his daughter’s direction.

“Let me help.”

Polly watched as Mitch put his arms around his daughter and helped her bring the fish in. He leaned in to whisper something in Louisa’s ear, and Louisa beamed. Polly’s insides turned to the consistency of the mud Isabella played in as she watched the father and daughter bond. This was more than the conversation they’d had earlier. Mitch and Louisa were cementing a connection they’d both been desperate for without realizing it.

Polly closed her eyes and prayed.
Lord, please help this family. They’re finally finding their way together. Keep Mitch safe and free from the charges dogging him. His children need him, and he needs them.

She wanted to say something about her own role in the process, but she wasn’t even sure what that would look like at this point. What she wanted it to be, and if what God wanted it to be looked different, would she be able to handle the results?

Louisa squealed as they pulled a writhing fish out of the water. “We did it!”

She dropped her pole and threw her arms around her father, who was still struggling to get control of the fish. And yet, fish or no fish, he let go of what he was doing and wrapped his arms around Louisa.

“Yes, we did.”

Polly thought her heart was going to explode with the joy of having witnessed this precious moment between father and daughter.

“You lost the pole and the fish, you dolts,” Rory said, irritation in his voice.

Polly turned her gaze from the father-daughter pair and saw the pole drifting toward them. “I’ll get it,” she said.

She trudged through the water and grabbed the pole. It slipped in her grasp, but she managed to keep hold of it.

“Fish!” Isabella’s baby voice called out.

“Yes, I know, fish.” Polly sighed, realizing that while she’d tied up her skirts to keep them dry while she fished at the edge of the bank, her excursion into the water had loosened them and as she dragged the pole out with her, she was also dragging behind soggy, wet fabric.

“Fish!” Isabella cried out again, this time louder and more urgently.

Polly threw the pole onto the bank, then turned to the little girl, who was holding the pole Polly had discarded to rescue the remains of Louisa’s fishing attempt.

Bent wildly, it was clear the pole held a fish at the other end.

“Oh, my!” Polly reached to help the little girl pull in the fish. They struggled for several minutes trying to bring it in. Finally, she felt strong arms come around behind her.

“Let me help.” The soft, warm whisper against her ear sent a chill down her spine.

With a final tug, they gained control of the fish. As they brought it out of the water and onto the bank, Polly noticed that it was the largest fish she’d ever caught.

“I catched a fish,” Isabella declared.

“It’s lovely,” Polly said, breathless. Mitch hadn’t released his hold on her, and as he murmured his agreement, his breath was warm against her neck. Too warm. Too...

Polly stepped away, immediately feeling a chill as she moved out of Mitch’s arms.

“You’re soaked through,” he said as they stepped onto the bank.

“I had to rescue Louisa’s pole.”

He bent and brushed the stray hairs that had fallen around her face. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She gave a soft murmur of agreement as she turned away. This effect he had on her, it made her feel as giddy as she had during her previous failed romances. But unlike with those other men, there was something different about Mitch.

Everyone had thought her heartbreaks had been so deep because she’d given too much of herself. Allowed herself to love too intensely. But what no one had understood, had been able to see, was that Polly had always held something back. Kept herself from giving her all to someone who would ultimately betray her trust. So far, she’d been completely right in doing so.

But with Mitch, holding back wouldn’t be an option. If she allowed herself to love him, she’d be forced to love him with her whole heart, and if she loved him with her whole heart, how could she ever find the strength to leave?