The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) (14 page)

Uncle Frank nodded and hugged Rory tighter to him. “God loves you, no matter how naughty you are. Anyone who says otherwise doesn’t really know God.”

Bending down so he was eye to eye with Rory, he said, “You’re staying in my house, and I’ve watched you. And I’m telling you, anyone who says that you are terrible does not know who you are. You are not Naughty Rory, or the Taylor Terrors, but Rory of the Terrific Taylors and God loves you.”

Beside her, Mitch sniffled, and Polly looked over to see he was weeping. She caught Uncle Frank’s eye, and he nodded. Gently, Polly took Mitch by the hand and led him into Uncle Frank’s study.

“I thought you might...need to talk.” Polly looked at him, her heart aching at the tears running down his cheeks.

“How could I not know the kind of pain my children were in?”

“The same reason you didn’t know what was going on with their mother. They thought they were protecting you.”

He looked so lost, so despondent, that Polly couldn’t help but put her arms around him. She held him as he sobbed, and she realized that the man before her, the man she was trying so desperately not to love, was absolutely broken. And the only way to make him, to make his family, whole again, was to give them all the love she had in her heart.

But how was she supposed to love him without falling in love with him?

Chapter Twelve

W
hat was he thinking, coming unglued like that in Polly’s arms? How had he turned into a weeping babe so easily?

God.

Mitch thought about how he’d spent the morning talking with Frank. There were so many things he hadn’t understood about God’s love, and yet, it didn’t seem to matter. Not when he saw the impact it was having on his children. They hadn’t needed to understand it to experience it, and, were Mitch to be so bold, be transformed by it.

He pulled away and looked at Polly, who wore such an expression of gentleness, he thought he might weep all over again.

“You’ve done the best you could,” she said softly. “And now that you know what they’ve been through, you can do even better. The children love you, and you love them and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you,” he said, looking in her eyes and realizing that here, with her, was one of the safest places he’d ever known.

How could he be letting his guard down for someone bound to leave? It didn’t matter that she said she’d stay as long as she was needed. Ten months, ten years, it didn’t matter. The point was, she was leaving. And even if she wasn’t, Polly had made it perfectly clear that she had no intention of ever marrying or having children.

Perhaps the safest-feeling place was the most terrifying of all.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled at him, her expression lighting her face, making her more beautiful than Hattie at her finest.

The purity and innocence he saw in Polly was unlike anything he’d ever known. She was jaded, yes, but underneath, there was something else and it made her seem all the more beautiful.

Mitch shook his head. He couldn’t keep thinking of her like this. Above all, he had to maintain his professional distance. Thoughts of the note he’d found on his bed last night drifted back to him. There’d been another one in his coat pocket this morning.

I love you
was all it said.

Theoretically, it could have come from one of the children.

He took a deep breath. He should say something. But Polly seemed so happy, so...

It seemed like so much was going well with his family, and everyone was finally healing. Talking to Polly about the notes seemed premature at this stage, especially since he wasn’t fully certain that she’d been the one sending them. Why stir things up when it wasn’t necessary?

Sounds of a scuffle came from the kitchen. Polly let out a long sigh. “I should be getting back to the children. Will you be all right?”

“Yes. Your job is to take care of them, not me.”

He used a more forceful tone than he’d intended, as the expression on Polly’s face looked like he’d just thrown a glass of cold water at her.

“I was just trying to be a friend,” she said stiffly, then turned to leave.

Mitch was about to stop her when he realized that if he did so, she might have reason to think that he had feelings for her beyond friendship. He shook his head. But he couldn’t have her feeling hurt either.

“Of course you were,” he said as she retreated. “But the children are more important.”

She gave a quick nod, the only acknowledgment of his words as her pale blue skirt swished behind her as she left.

“You’re doing just fine, son.” Frank’s voice came from the hallway, then he entered the room.

Doing just fine? Did Frank have any idea how much he struggled with his feelings for Polly? In doing the right thing, when he couldn’t even be certain what the right thing was?

Mitch wasn’t even sure how to answer that as the other man came over and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve been in a difficult situation, and I can’t imagine how coping with your late wife’s circumstances has burdened you. It’s no surprise that even despite your best efforts, your children have suffered under that weight as well.”

His circumstances. Mitch exhaled slowly. Frank wasn’t talking about Polly at all. Clearly, Mitch’s mind had been on the wrong things. Frank was right in drawing his attention back to the children. He’d allowed himself to get distracted, which wasn’t a good thing when he had so much at stake.

The children were only a part of Mitch’s larger worries.

“Do you know when Will is due back?”

The question was a deliberate change of subject, and recognition of that fact dawned across Frank’s face.

“I haven’t heard. Even with him taking the train, it’s liable to be a few more days. But rest assured that he will do his best.”

Frank shrugged. “We still have the power of prayer, and the Lord’s will shall prevail. I know things seem hopeless right now, but I’ve been praying for you and your situation. We serve a big God Who can do mighty things.”

Over the years, he’d had ladies come in to his store telling him that they’d pray for him for this and that, and usually he thought it was a nice sentiment that wouldn’t do him any good, even though the women meant well. Hearing it come out of Frank’s mouth, Mitch almost believed praying might actually get him results.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I suppose I’m willing to accept God’s help, should the Lord be willing to provide.”

Frank clapped him on the back again. “And that’s all we can do. Sometimes the reason we don’t see the Lord in action is because we aren’t open to receiving. So don’t let worry over the situation trouble you. Will will return in good time, and then we can create a plan of action.”

Mitch nodded slowly, hopeful that even though things didn’t necessarily look the way he wanted them to, there was still the chance they would work out. Will was doing what he could, the children were progressing and for the first time in his life, Mitch felt like he had God on his side.

An eruption of laughter came from the kitchen, far different from the conflict that had interrupted him and Polly earlier.

Frank grinned. “Ah, now that is a sound I always hope to have in my home. Laughter is so good for us all. Let’s see what tomfoolery they’ve all gotten into. Perhaps we can join in.”

The men walked into the kitchen, where they saw Polly standing in front of the children with a pot on her head.

“What is this about?” Frank chuckled as Polly turned to face them.

She grinned. “I was pretending to be a fine gentleman so they knew how to address me.”

“Maddie won’t like you using her pot,” Frank said as she removed it from her head.

“I know, but we won’t tell her, will we?” She winked as she put the pot back on the counter. “But now that we do have some fine gentlemen in the room, let’s all practice how we will greet them, shall we?”

“Good day, sirs,” the children chorused, sounding every bit as proper as those educated in the finest schools. The Taylor Terrors were no more.

Mitch looked over each of his children, one by one. The boys had their hair neatly combed, and the girls wore theirs in proper braids, with nary a strand out of place. They were clean, and their clothes all properly arranged, with no tears, misbuttoned buttons or anything amiss. Both Clara and Rory used to scream as though they were being murdered when forced to take a bath. And to get any of them to brush their hair?

Surely if his children could be so transformed, then so, too, could his life. The idea of being exonerated didn’t seem so hopeless anymore. In only a few weeks, he’d seen enough positive change in his family that he could believe anything was possible.

Polly clapped her hands. “That was well done, everyone. I think you’ve all worked hard enough for now. Let’s take a break. It’s a nice day outside, so you may all go out and play. Just stay in the yard.”

The children needed no further encouragement, as they got up from their seats and quietly walked to the door. Before Mitch could say anything, they were outside, laughing and carrying on. Once again, he marveled at how happy they sounded. The squabbling he’d resigned himself to had all but disappeared.

“How do you do it?” he asked, looking at Polly.

She’d gone over to the stove and was holding up a tea kettle. “Make tea? It’s quite simple, really, and incredibly convenient on the Lassiters’ stove. I quite despair of having to go back to a place without one.”

Her eyes twinkled, and as he was about to protest, he realized she was teasing him.

“I’m assuming you mean the orderly way they left the room,” Polly said with a grin. “That’s simple. We’ve had several days where they did not leave in an orderly fashion, and they forfeited their time outside.”

Then she came and sat at the table. “The children have spent years suffering punishments that don’t fit the crime. I know how hard that can be, and I do my best to be kind and fair. They don’t always like how things work out, but they know that in the end, I’m going to be just.”

How could so many other nannies have not seen this? Not chosen to act in the children’s best interests?

He stared at Polly. “Why weren’t the other nannies able to do this for them?”

She shrugged. “Everyone has different philosophies in raising children. Besides, in the past, the nannies were also acting on Hattie’s instructions. You’ve given me freedom to care for them as I see fit.”

Frank joined them at the table. “Now that is wisdom I needed to hear.” He placed his hands over Polly’s and looked at her with all the love of a father, even though he wasn’t her father.

“I couldn’t understand why you’ve been wanting to leave us, but now I do. You’ve been telling us all along that you want your freedom to make your own decisions. We thought we’d given you that, but I can see how we’ve been asking you to do it in the context of how we want things done. Mitch’s children have blossomed. And I credit that to you, and using that freedom wisely.”

Frank turned his gaze toward Mitch. “Thank you for giving Polly this opportunity. It’s helped me see her far better than I ever have.”

Polly’s eyes welled up with tears as Frank brought his attention back to her. “You are an amazing woman, and I’m so proud of you. I’m sorry I wasn’t giving you enough freedom in your obligations here.”

Feeling like an intruder, Mitch started to push back in his chair to leave.

“Don’t go,” Frank said. “I know you and Polly have much to discuss.”

Then he gave Mitch that same fatherly look. “You’re struggling with the mistakes you’ve made with your children, but I want to be an example to you that we can’t always get it right. All you can do is acknowledge where you’ve gone wrong and do your best to make it right.”

Mitch nodded slowly, wishing he could wipe away all the wasted years. The hurting years. He’d thought he’d done the right thing by his children, only...

“You’ve got to forgive yourself,” Frank said, as if he was reading Mitch’s thoughts.

As Polly got up, she touched Mitch’s shoulder gently. “Uncle Frank is right. It’s the only way to move on.”

Passing Frank, she stopped and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “And of course I forgive you. You were only looking out for my best interests. How can I fault you for that?”

Mitch watched as Polly went to the stove and retrieved the kettle of boiling water to make the tea. Her skilled hands mesmerized him. Though it was a common, everyday activity, Polly moved with such grace and fluidity, watching her was a pleasure.

“She is too good to me,” Frank said, smiling. “I don’t know what I would have done without her and Gertie after my Catherine died. I did the best I could to keep the ministry going, but Gertie’s tireless efforts, along with Polly’s assistance, helped me carry on. Annabelle was lost in her grief, and I couldn’t reach her.”

“There now,” Polly said, setting the teapot on the table, along with a plate of sugar cookies. “We only did for you what you did for us. We had nothing when you and Catherine first came to the camps. But because of you, I could continue my education, and Ma found meaningful work that kept food on the table during lean times. We look out for each other, and when times are bad for one, the other picks up the slack. It’s how it’s done.”

As she handed out the cups, she looked at Mitch. “The hospitality we show you is only the hospitality shown to us. I know you’ve felt guilty about taking so much, but we’ve been on the receiving end, just like you.”

Her smile filled him with a sense of peace as he put Frank’s words together with hers. They’d created a real community amongst themselves—a family. And somehow, Mitch had found himself adopted into it, even before he’d known how desperately he’d needed them.

The only trouble was, when Polly’s hands brushed his while she poured the tea, he didn’t think of her as a sister.

* * *

Polly tried to relax as they sat in the kitchen, enjoying their tea. But with Mitch, she felt on edge. Uncertain as to how to behave. There’d been another note in her apron pocket, one that said, “You’re beautiful.”

He was staring at her again, with that funny look on his face. Was he thinking about how beautiful he thought she was? She ought to say something, but what?

Polly sipped her tea, trying to focus on the delicate flavor rather than these troubling thoughts. Her conversation with Mitch had been all about encouraging him as a father and letting him know that the welcome he received here was the welcome they’d give anyone.

If only her heart raced like this for everyone.

Oh, how she wished she could find something to make them joke and smile about. Something to ease this strange tension in the room.

Was it wrong to hope the children would come inside and need her for something?

Uncle Frank watched her like he knew there was something on her mind but wasn’t sure if he should ask her about it. If he did, she could hardly tell him the truth. But she also couldn’t lie.

“Well,” he said slowly. “I suppose I have a sermon to prepare. They don’t write themselves. I’m sure you two have plenty to discuss.”

Polly stared at him. “Do we? That’s the second time you’ve referenced Mitch and me needing to discuss something.”

Then she turned her attention to Mitch. “Unless there’s something I don’t know about.”

The blank expression on his face made Polly feel a little better, especially when she caught the sheepish look on Uncle Frank’s face. Surely he wasn’t in matchmaking mode.