The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) (3 page)

Rose made a noise and patted her stomach again. “I had visions of that myself, and look where that got me. I suppose you’re taking a more respectable path, but don’t be fooled into thinking that the world is any better out there. At least here, you have a family who loves and supports you.”

“It’s not as though she’s running away with an outlaw, Rose, dear.” Annabelle gave her sister-in-law a pat on the shoulder as she moved to sit in another chair. Then Annabelle turned her attention to Mitch.

“I am assuming you’re not an outlaw, and that you’re a man of good character? Mary’s husband, Will, is a lawman, and I can assure you that if you engage in any funny business, he will bring you to justice.”

Poor Mitch looked overwhelmed, and she didn’t blame him.

“I’m sure Will would be happy to make some inquiries,” Mary said, smiling at Mitch in the same way she smiled at the children when giving them a subtle threat.

Except with so many people staring him down, Mitch could hardly think that any of them were being subtle.

Polly stood. “I’m sure Mr. Taylor is perfectly respectable. His brother runs Taylor’s Mercantile, and we all know how well he speaks of his other family members. Uncle Frank would have never brought him into our home had it been otherwise.”

Then she turned to Mitch. “Why don’t we go out back so we can check on the children and discuss terms of my employment?”

The creases in his forehead softened as he stood. “I think that’s a good idea. My children...”

He looked as though he wanted to say something about his children’s capabilities but then thought better of it. Polly bit back a giggle. Oh, if only he knew the sort of antics she’d put up with over the years. He was afraid of terrifying her, but after having endured questioning by her family, he should have realized that there wasn’t much that scared Polly.

Polly led him out the back door, not waiting for any of the others to catch up or comment. That was the other problem with being tied to her family. As much as she truly loved them, it seemed like none of them gave her the space to think for herself. To make her own choices.

Granted, some of the overprotectiveness was her own fault. Her failed romance was with a man who’d turned out to be an outlaw, and her blind trust in him had nearly cost Annabelle her life. Polly had failed to see the man’s interest in Annabelle, and when he’d kidnapped her, hoping to use her as leverage to gain access to a silver mine, Polly had looked the other way. No, not looked the other way. That implied a level of complacency Polly had lacked. Rather, Polly had been blinded by jealousy and thought Annabelle had stolen her beau.

Love, or at least the thought of being in love, had stolen Polly’s good sense. A common occurrence in these parts, since she’d seen too many love-struck women have their hearts broken by men interested in gambling, boozing and brothels. When she’d fallen for Tom, she’d been convinced he wasn’t like those men. She’d been only partially right. He might not have spent time in any of those places, but he’d been wicked all the same.

So it was no wonder none of her family and friends trusted her judgment. She questioned it herself. But this was not a romantic entanglement. Rather, it was legitimate, respectable employment.

No hearts to be broken here.

After all, Mitch was mourning the untimely death of his wife. The hint of gray at his temples suggested he was not the sort of man to be interested in her anyway. Although...if she’d been in a room with her friends, before their weddings, she might have indulged in a giggle or two over the fact that despite his age, Mitch Taylor was a handsome man indeed.

But he would not be interested in her. And while she was sure he was a perfectly respectable man, she was also certain that he was not free of secrets. Secrets that Polly would just as soon not involve herself with.

Mitch put his hand at her waist to steady her as she walked down the stairs. Though she’d walked down the stairs to the backyard plenty of times on her own before, there was something almost comforting about the warmth of his hand at her waist. Polly looked up at him, and he smiled.

Flecks of ice sparked in his deep blue eyes, and once again, she was struck by the hidden warmth within. It would be easy enough to believe in the fantasy that Mitch’s secrets were all about his hidden depth and warmth, but Polly knew better.

“Children!” Polly stepped out of Mitch’s reach and held her arms out. Her youngest sister, Caitlin, came running.

“We were good,” she said in a singsong voice. “Can we have some of the cookies Maddie was baking?”

The other children quickly followed, the chorus of voices joining Caitlin’s. But Polly noticed that the Taylor children hung back.

Polly stepped toward her charges and gave them a smile. “Did you have fun?”

The eldest, Louisa, glared at her, but the others hesitated. Nugget tugged at the back of her skirt. “They didn’t know any of our games.”

Polly turned toward Nugget. “Did you teach them?”

“No.” Nugget kicked at a rock. “They didn’t want to play.”

Polly put her arm around Nugget and turned her toward the Taylor children. “Do you remember when you first came here, and you didn’t know anyone?”

“People were mean to me, on account of my mama,” Nugget said quietly.

One of the twins, Clara, came forward. “People are mean to us, on account of our mama, too.”

Polly watched the expressions flash across the rest of the Taylor children’s faces. Her heart ached as she remembered the taunts poor little Nugget used to face. And, to a lesser extent, she used to face. Polly’s ma was a woman of the most honorable sort, but her pa... Polly sighed. She did her best to honor her pa, but his gambling, drinking and suspected philandering was the biggest reason she could never see herself settling down.

“Well, I’m not going to be mean to you on account of your mama.” Polly held out her hand. “And I am fairly certain that none of the children here will do so either. But if they do, they will answer to me.”

Clara came and took Polly’s hand. “Everyone says Mummy was wicked. And we’re wicked just like her.”

Those big brown eyes looked up at her, full of hope, yet fearful.

“You’re not wicked,” Polly said, squeezing the little girl’s hand, then looking over at the rest of the Taylor children. “You might need to learn a few manners, but that doesn’t mean you’re wicked.”

Mitch stepped alongside her. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think anyone’s told them that before.”

She turned her attention to him. “Why haven’t you?”

“I didn’t know.” The sadness in his voice tugged at her heart more strongly than the wounded expressions on his children’s faces.

She’d already been convinced that she needed to help this family. But now, more than ever, nothing would stop her from giving them the support they needed.

Chapter Three

S
lipping his hand into Polly’s free hand felt more natural than anything he’d done in a long time. Actually, everything about being with Polly felt natural. How had Mitch not seen the misery his children had been living in for so long? How had he not known how the nannies themselves disparaged the children?

Polly squeezed his hand, sending an intense current of warmth through him.

“I’m sorry, children, I didn’t know.” Mitch looked at his children, wishing he could undo the damage that had been done to them.

Clara let go of Polly’s other hand and rushed at him, wrapping her arms around his legs. Before he knew it, the rest of the children were gathered round him, hugging him. Isabella probably had no idea why, but she was still of an age where all she needed was a few snuggles and she was perfectly happy. She hadn’t yet realized that people treated her differently because of her dark skin.

Louisa, however, stood apart from them. Watching him. Shooting glares at Polly.

“Just because you say the right things doesn’t mean we’re going to accept you as our nanny.” Then she looked pointedly at the hand Mitch still held. “Or our new mummy.”

Polly immediately jerked her hand away. “Well, I suppose it’s just as well that I never have any intention of marrying.” She gave Louisa a smile that seemed to be more menacing than sweet. “Or having children. As for being your nanny, if you can prove to me that you are as capable as you say of taking care of your siblings, I will gladly leave my post, become trained as a teacher, then make my own way in the world.”

Mitch watched as Polly locked gazes with his daughter. “But I promise you that whatever you try to do to drive me away, it won’t work. The only way I will leave is if I am completely assured of your ability to take care of yourselves.”

Then she turned her gaze to Mitch. “We haven’t discussed terms of my employment yet. Perhaps we can leave Louisa in charge while we take a short stroll to settle things. This could be the perfect opportunity for her to prove her worth.”

Polly didn’t wait for Mitch’s response as she tucked her arm into his elbow and extricated him from his children’s embraces. She didn’t speak until they were well outside of the children’s earshot.

“I think they’ll be just fine while we walk. Even though I left Louisa in charge, everyone in Uncle Frank’s household is within earshot.”

She smiled at him, and again, he was struck by the warmth in her expression. Warm, but tough.

“I’m not comfortable with Louisa raising her siblings. It’s no life for a young girl.”

“I quite agree,” Polly said, a twinkle filling her eyes. “Having lived that life myself, I can tell you that eventually, she’ll come to resent it, and be willing to do just about anything to escape.”

“Such as become a nanny to five unruly children.”

Polly grinned. “Indeed. It’s a good thing you only had five, because I’m not sure I have the stamina for six.”

Mitch had already been certain in his decision to hire Polly, but her quick wit and sense of humor cemented it. The dour women who’d looked after his children in the past always intimidated him, and sometimes he wondered if that intimidation only frightened the children.

He’d never considered that what the children might need was something completely different. Someone completely different.

“You’re sure your family won’t mind?”

Polly sighed. “Honestly, other than not having someone to do their bidding, I’m not sure they’d notice. I feel more in the way these days, and I never know what my place is. Other than following orders.”

Then she stopped, put a hand over her mouth and turned to him. A few moments later, she dropped her hand, then gave him a dejected look. “I’m sorry. I sound like such an ungrateful daughter. Ma has worked hard her whole life. Even when Pa wasn’t up to the task of providing for our family, Ma took over. I know Ma says that Pa means well, but the truth is, she’s nearly worked herself to death to do right by us, and I am truly grateful for her sacrifices. Maybe it is selfish of me to want my own life, but I’ve spent most of it helping Ma. Now that Pa has a good job in Joseph’s mine, Ma doesn’t have to work so hard.”

Another long sigh escaped Polly’s lips as she looked at the house, then back at him. “Since I’m not needed so much, I have to take the chance to live the life of my choosing, not what’s forced upon me.”

She gave him a soft smile, and once again, he was struck by how pretty she was. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on her words instead.

“I didn’t mean to unburden myself on you like that, but I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person or Ma is a bad person. We’ve done the best we could do with what we have, and I promise I’ll be good to your children.”

“I know,” Mitch said, trying to ignore the tug on his heart. Her words made him want to hire her not just for his children, not just for him, but to give Polly the life she craved.

But he refused to let himself get attached to her on a personal level. Polly had already indicated her desire to eventually leave, so he had to think of her position as temporary. As for any deeper feelings, those were completely unacceptable.

A man only remarried for love or to get a family for himself. He already had more family than he could handle. Love, well, that was a folly he’d not repeat.

Hattie had bled him dry of any sort of romantic notions he might have had. Polly MacDonald was pretty enough, and he’d admit that she stirred feelings in him he’d thought dead, but Mitch knew better than to act on any of them. The only thing worse than falling in love was falling for a woman he knew wouldn’t stay. He should have seen the signs with Hattie, but now that he knew Polly’s plans for her own life, he knew how completely off-limits he had to keep his heart.

He had to keep things strictly professional, which was why the question forming on his lips had to be asked. Not for his sake, of course, but for the five children who might become attached to Polly.

“How long do you plan on working for me before seeking your teaching certificate?”

Polly shrugged. “I have no timetable. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed and we’re both satisfied with my work. I don’t necessarily need to become a teacher, but it is one of the few respectable forms of employment for a young unmarried lady. Particularly one who has no intention of ever marrying.”

Once again, Mitch found his interest piqued by her strong declaration against marriage. “Was your heart broken that badly, then?”

Polly shook her head. “I know everyone thinks it’s because Tom broke my heart. But the truth is, I’ve seen what falling in love and marriage does to a person. Did Ma know what kind of man Pa would turn out to be when she married him? Of course not. She had stars in her eyes, and even now, if you catch her at just the right time, she’ll tell you of the roguish way he stole her heart. But what good did that do her? Backbreaking work, more mouths to feed than she could afford and having to put up with his antics?”

A gust of wind scooted between them, and Polly pulled her shawl tighter against her body. “I know that not every man is bad, and I’m sure you want to defend your gender to me. But honestly, I’ve had enough of a taste for when things go wrong to not want to venture there myself. In my experience, things go wrong more than they go right.”

Mitch couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. Part of him wanted to argue with her logic and tell her that exactly not all men were bad, and not all marriages were terrible. But his own experience...

“I understand. As much as I tried to protect the children from knowing the truth about my marriage to Hattie...”

Mitch sighed again. He’d never confessed the truth of his marriage to anyone, not his family, not the few friends who stood by him, not the police who questioned him over Hattie’s death.

“I’m sorry that it wasn’t good,” Polly said softly. “But you did your best to make your children feel safe and secure. Which is what Ma did for us. I respect that. And you won’t hear a word against her from me.”

Then Polly glanced back at the house. “I shouldn’t have told you those things about my pa. Ma would be terribly hurt if she knew I held him in such low regard. She’s never spoken ill of him, even on the nights he’s come home smelling of drink and cheap perfume.”

Her loyalty felt like a warm cloak around his heart. His children were safe with this woman. She wouldn’t make them feel small or out of place, and she’d do her best to keep them from the talk that followed their family. And, as he watched her nibble on her lower lip, he knew that he was safe with her as well.

“I won’t say anything,” Mitch said softly. “Thank you for trusting me. I imagine this has been weighing on you for some time.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Polly said quietly, once again glancing in the direction of the house. “My friends have all married wonderful men. They all think I’ll eventually find someone just as wonderful and live the same wonderful lives they lead. But how can I tell them that marriage isn’t always so wonderful when they are clearly so happy?”

“You don’t,” Mitch said, taking her by the arm and leading her down the road. “I never wanted anyone to know what a fool I’d been, so I simply pretended everything was fine.”

Then he stopped. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where we’re going. And I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I suppose that both of us needed someone to talk to, and both of us understand what’s at stake for the other.”

Polly smiled, then pointed at a nearby barn. “Why don’t I show you Uncle Frank’s mission, and the work he’s doing? As for talking, I understand completely. Your secrets are safe with me.”

They turned a corner, and Mitch realized that not all of his secrets were going to remain safe. Gerald Barnes, deputy and chief investigator into Hattie’s death, was coming toward them.

He should have known that Gerald would show up in Leadville sometime. But what he hadn’t expected was the two large men standing with him.

Gerald and his men closed in. “Mitchell Taylor, you’re under arrest for the murder of Hattie Winston.”

* * *

Murder? Polly looked at Mitch. There had to be some mistake.

But Mitch didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared at the deputy. “You know I didn’t do it.”

“I got a witness who says otherwise.” The deputy put his hand on the gun at his waist. “I suggest you come peacefully.”

The two men with the deputy came toward them, looking like they expected a fight. Once again, Polly stole a glance at Mitch, who wore the same icy calm expression he had in the Mercantile when his children were misbehaving.

“Of course.” Mitch held out his hands, almost as though he’d been expecting this. Then he turned and looked at Polly.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to settle terms of your employment fully, but I can assure you that once we sort out this misunderstanding, I’ll pay whatever wages you think fair.”

He nodded in the direction of the deputy and his men. “They’re witnesses to my agreement to pay you, so you needn’t worry that I’ll not give you your due.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Polly told him. “I’m happy to care for your children, but—”

“You should be worried, miss,” the deputy said, his brow furrowed. “The way poor Miss Hattie died, it was a gruesome scene, and I’m sure she must’ve suffered in the end. You shouldn’t trust the likes of Mitch Taylor. He has a pretty tale to tell, but it’s all lies.”

Secrets. Everyone had them. Could Mitch have killed his wife? Polly’s gut told her no. But with as forthcoming as he’d seemed to be in their discussions, why hadn’t he mentioned that he was a suspect in his wife’s death?

“I believe, in this country, a man is innocent until proven guilty,” Polly said quietly, looking at Mitch. What would he say in his defense?

“There’s proof enough,” the deputy said. “A fine citizen like Mitch Taylor, you’d have never believed it. But I suppose there’s only so much a man can take, and one night, he just lost it.”

Then he looked at Mitch. “I suppose you thought she had it coming. But no one, no one, deserves to die the way Hattie did.”

Still, Mitch remained silent, and Polly’s stomach turned inside out. Why wasn’t he defending himself? Why did he seem so calm?

“Can we go now?” Mitch stared back at the deputy. “I’d rather not cause a scene. My children have already been through enough.”

Once again, Mitch brought his icy gaze to Polly. “If you wouldn’t mind bringing the children back to my brother’s, let him know what’s happening. He can notify my lawyer. I trust you’ll care for the children as we discussed?”

Polly nodded slowly. “Of course. I could ask Uncle Frank or Will—”

“Please don’t.” Mitch’s shoulders rose and fell. “I know you want to help, but right now, the only help I need is making sure my children are safe and well cared for. That’s all that matters to me.”

Other than his initial protestation of guilt, not one word about his innocence. Not one word about the heinous crime he’d been accused of. In fact, he stood there calmly as though he’d been expecting this to happen all along.

What kind of man was Mitch Taylor? Had she been wrong in her instincts about him?

As she watched the deputy put handcuffs on him and lead him down the street, Polly couldn’t imagine that she’d been wrong. But why was he so meekly accepting this injustice?

Or was it as the deputy had suggested, and Mitch had just snapped?

Mitch stopped, then turned to look at her. “Go. I’m counting on you.”

The deputy and his men led Mitch away, and while Polly wanted to run after them, she did the only thing she could do—she ran back to the parsonage and back to the Taylor children.

When she arrived at the house, Uncle Frank was waiting for her on the porch.

“Where’s Mitch?”

Polly started spilling the details of Mitch’s arrest, hoping that somewhere in her words, something would come out that made sense. Before she got very far in her story, Will Lawson, Mary’s husband and a deputy in Leadville, arrived at the house. Both men were silent until Polly finished, but from the expressions on their faces, she knew the situation wasn’t good.