The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) (7 page)

It wasn’t just that Polly had a knack for dealing with his children, but she seemed to be able to love all children. All people. She had a special love power in her that seemed to radiate love to all the lives she touched.

Caitlin hugged Polly, and Polly got up, just as Louisa’s sobs subsided. Mitch turned his attention back to his daughter.

“Good night, my love. Sleep well.” He thought he should pray with her, except he didn’t remember the words to the prayer Polly had said, and he didn’t know any others.

As he stood, Polly joined them. “Did you say your prayers?”

Louisa made a noise. Though their time hugging and crying had done them both good, she still wasn’t going to be cooperative. But they’d made progress, and that was enough.

“No. I was just thinking about that, and how I liked what you said.”

She smiled, and even in the dimly lit room, Mitch could see how it lit up her face. Beautiful. If only she didn’t have other plans for her life, Polly MacDonald would be...

Mitch shook his head. No. He was absolutely not going to go down that road again. Falling in love had cost him too much, though he’d willingly paid the price, given that he’d ended up with five incredible children. Now that he had no need for additional children, the cost of romance was too high for him to consider again. It was just as well that Polly had no interest in that direction either.

“I always say the prayer Ma said with us, but you don’t have to be that formal. Just say whatever is in your heart.”

But then, as if she understood his hesitation, Polly knelt and said the prayer he’d heard her utter just a few minutes before. Would God protect his children the way she’d asked? He supposed it didn’t hurt to try, but he’d spent too many years being told by church folk that his family was unfit for God’s mercy. Frank had told him otherwise, but who was right?

At Polly’s gentle “amen” Mitch could only hope, no, pray, that Frank Lassiter was right.

Mitch followed Polly out of the attic room, trying not to notice the way her hair was falling out of its bun in the back, sending tendrils of reddish-blond hair in all directions. It would have been ungentlemanly to point it out, but Mitch loved the wild look to her hair. It seemed to match its rather unconventional owner.

“Thank you for letting me help tuck them in,” Mitch said once they were on the landing and out of hearing range of smaller ears.

“Of course.” Polly smiled, and Mitch thought he caught sight of a tiny dimple in her cheek. “You’re their father. You should be tucking them in every night.”

Her words weren’t meant as a chastisement, he could tell from her gentle tone. But his heart felt as though she’d sent a thousand tiny daggers into it.

“I suppose your father tucked you in every night.”

She let out a long sigh. “Well, no. But Pa’s different. He’s been too busy with other pursuits to pay us much mind. Ma, on the other hand, she always made sure to give us a good tucking, a good praying and a good loving to send us off to sleep.”

Basically, the same situation his children were in, only reversed. Except that until tonight, he hadn’t realized just how much his children needed him to put them to bed at night.

Gertie appeared at the top of the steps from the main level, making the small hallway a bit crowded.

“I was just coming up to tuck Caitlin in. See if the others need anything.”

“We just finished,” Polly said, giving her mother a tender look. “I think Caitlin is feeling a little sad now that Nugget has moved down the street into Joseph and Annabelle’s place.”

“Oh, the poor dear. I should have known she’d be feeling lonesome. I suppose a roomful of children doesn’t make a lick of difference when you’re missing your best friend.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Polly agreed. “I offered to let her sleep in with me and Isabella, but she didn’t want anyone to think she was a baby.”

“I’ll see to her, then. Don’t stay up too late yourself? I know you just got that new book you’re dying to read, but you’ll be absolutely worthless tomorrow if you’re up all night reading.”

“Yes, Ma,” Polly said, then hugged her mother good-night.

The interaction was probably commonplace in this household, yet Mitch marveled at it. How many times had he wished for his children to have such an easy relationship with their mother? Had Hattie ever hugged them like that? He shook his head. It didn’t matter now, since Hattie was gone.

“Sorry about that.” Polly gave him a sheepish look, then beckoned at the floor below. “Once a mother, always a mother, even when your baby is grown. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea before bed? Maddie grows the herbs herself.”

“I think it’s wonderful to have such a caring mother,” Mitch said. “You’d told me only a little of your father, but I suspect that your father and Hattie had a lot in common. It’s nice to see such a good relationship between parent and children. Makes me hopeful that I can have the same with mine.”

He followed her down the stairs into the parlor, where Maddie had left a pot of tea on the side table.

“Were you expecting me to come down?” Mitch looked at Polly as she sat.

“No, not at all. But it’s my custom to have a cup of tea before bed, and Maddie knows it. She spoils us, and I’m so very grateful for her.”

Polly poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. “Here. This will help you relax and sleep better.”

He took the tea and sniffed it. Definitely a lot of herbs, and almost medicine-y. But he wouldn’t hurt Polly’s feelings by refusing. He took a sip, delighted when he discovered that despite the medicinal smell, the tea had a pleasant, sweet flavor with just a hint of mint.

“My second night in a real bed? I doubt I’ll have trouble sleeping, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Mitch leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes, finding it hard to believe so much had changed in his life in twenty-four hours.

“Was it so bad, then?”

He opened his eyes to look at Polly. “Jail?” With a quick shake of his head, he remembered what they’d just been doing. “No, not really. It was quieter than at home, and I spent a lot of my time thinking.”

“Thinking?” Polly stared at him over her teacup.

“Yes. I wondered what would become of my children if I couldn’t get out of jail. I knew you would care for them, of course, but what then? As much as Andrew loves me, he’s already said that if I end up being convicted, he and Iris can’t take the children. The last time my children and his children were left alone together, my children shaved his daughter Augusta bald.”

Polly tried to hide a giggle, but Mitch still caught it. There was something endearing about the way she covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile, but her twinkling eyes gave her away.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so irreverent while you’re pouring your heart out. I’m just wondering what Augusta did to deserve such punishment.”

He wasn’t sure what he found more attractive, her stifled giggle or her automatic assumption that his children weren’t entirely at fault.

“The children called her a horrid little toad who needed to be taught some manners.”

Polly gave a tiny snort as the giggle she’d been trying to hold in burst out. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I shouldn’t laugh, but that’s too precious. I suppose I should feel sorry for poor Augusta.”

Could Polly find her way into his heart any deeper? Her laugh was like a balm to the scars he thought would never heal. No one had ever told him his children were anything but awful, and here, with her taking their side in a situation that nearly caused a rift between him and his brother, it was almost too much for his heart to bear. Why had it taken him so long to find her?

“Augusta was fine,” Mitch told her with a smile. “They actually didn’t shave her entire head, but she did have to wear her hair just so for a while so that no one could tell.”

He took a deep breath, feeling much lighter now that they’d both had a good laugh. “Still, it is a sobering thought to realize that you are the only person on this earth who wants my children. If something happened to me, they’d go to an orphanage. And then what? Louisa would be sent off to work somewhere, with Clara and Rory not far behind. I suppose a good family would want to adopt Thomas, since he’s young.”

Then his heart tightened as he looked at Polly. “But what of Isabella? It’s obvious she’s of mixed race. When she was born, people told me I should get rid of her. But who would do that to a child? To his own child?”

Mitch’s chest thudded so loudly, he thought it would wake the whole house up. “I don’t care what anyone says. Isabella is my daughter.”

Polly leaned forward, breaching the space between the two chairs, and took his hand. “Of course she is. And she has an amazing father who will do anything for her. Which is why we have to find a way to prove your innocence.”

“We?” Mitch wanted to pull his hand away, but the warmth of hers in his was too tempting. Especially with the way her eyes mesmerized him.

“I love your children too much to see them deprived of another parent. And I love justice too much to allow an innocent man to be convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.”

She was close enough that if he leaned forward just a little bit, he could kiss her. He wanted to kiss her, and he hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in almost twelve years. Had it been that long?

Mitch’s head snapped up and he pulled his hand away as he realized what he’d been about to do. He could not, would not, kiss another woman whose plans for life didn’t involve sticking around and seeing everything through. Besides, Polly was his employee, a young woman, and he couldn’t take advantage of her like that.

But as Polly gazed at him and said, “Please, Mitch. Let me and my family help prove your innocence,” he wondered if kissing her would have been the easier route. She had no idea what he was up against, and he couldn’t have more lives ruined for his sake.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, trying to avoid those eyes of hers that seemed to get him to open up to her even when he didn’t want to. “I can’t put people through any more scandal.”

“Scandal?” Polly set her teacup on the table with a clatter. “You could be hanged, and you’re worried about a scandal?”

“I won’t have my children treated worse than they already are. People stand outside my brother’s store, demanding to know why he’s harboring a murderer, and I know it’s hurting business. If your family gets involved, what will happen to them?”

The ease he’d felt in his chest left him, being replaced by what had to be vises squeezing him this way and that. Frank Lassiter had taken him in, and until now, Mitch hadn’t thought about what that might end up costing the good preacher. People who needed to hear his message wouldn’t want to go to a church plagued by scandal.

“I’m sorry, Polly.” Mitch looked down at his hands and stood. “I’ve only ever tried to do the right thing, and I fear it’s hurting the ones I love the most.”

If only there was a way to keep his children safe without involving these good people.

Chapter Seven

T
he next morning Polly sat in the parlor, enjoying the calm before everyone woke up and hurried about their day. Maddie was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, but she’d shooed Polly out, saying she could handle the meal just fine. Arguing seemed to be a bad idea, though Polly really had wanted something to keep occupied to distract herself from her thoughts of Mitch.

There seemed to be a connection between them she couldn’t explain, and sometimes, it felt downright dangerous, the way she wanted to take him in her arms and let him know everything was going to be all right. Mostly, though, she wanted to kiss him senseless, which meant she hadn’t learned a thing in all of the lessons she’d been taught about men.

She sighed. If only kissing weren’t such a pleasant pastime, and if only it didn’t mean a commitment she wasn’t willing to make. Besides, she knew better than to act on any attraction she felt. Attraction was the easy part. It was the living with the bad choices a person made in the throes of it that was hard.

A shadow fell across the doorway, and Polly looked up. Will.

“I thought I’d stop in to see if you all needed anything before I headed out.”

Will and Mary had finally moved in to their own home, just a few houses down, but they came and went so often that it still felt like they lived in the parsonage. In the months since Will had come into their life, he’d become like an older brother to her. Well, she did have older brothers, of course, but they’d always been so busy working in the mines that Polly had never developed a close relationship with them. Even now, they spent their days in the mining camp and not in town.

A sigh escaped Polly’s lips, and Will entered the room. “Sounds like you have a lot on your mind.”

“I just wish Mitch wasn’t being so stubborn. He thinks that if we help him, that we’re going to face trouble because of it.”

Will nodded slowly. “We’ve had to disperse the crowds gathering in front of his brother’s store several times now.”

“But if someone doesn’t help him, he might well be convicted.”

The sound Will made didn’t make Polly feel any better. Especially when he followed it up with words. “Not might. Will. I did some asking around, and it isn’t looking good. Are you sure he didn’t do it?”

Polly’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach, where it churned and ached. “Would I take up for him otherwise?”

“Of course not.” Will reached forward and ruffled her hair. “But you have to understand, everyone I’ve talked to is convinced he did it.”

“That doesn’t mean he did.”

A long silence filled the room, and Polly knew it meant Will was considering her words. Above all, Will Lawson was a fair man, and he wouldn’t want to see an innocent man convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.

Will rubbed his chin, then finally looked at Polly. “I admit there are a few things about the case that have been troubling me.”

Those were the words Polly had been hoping to hear. Anything, really, to give Mitch a fighting chance.

“Like what?”

“As far as I can tell, the only suspect they’ve even looked at is Mitch. It’s been conveniently pinned on him, but all of their evidence is circumstantial. I know Sheriff Conley is in a tight race to be reelected, so a high-profile murder conviction would help his cause. Easy enough to prove the husband is guilty, so why investigate further?”

Polly nodded. “Mitch said the same thing.”

“I never liked Conley much,” Will admitted. “He was more interested in the notches on his belt for putting people away than he was in justice. I understand that’s what he thinks the public expects of him, but I never could stomach the idea of working for a man like that.”

Then he shook his head, as though he realized he was probably speaking out of turn. “I suppose none of that matters, though, with Mitch being the only suspect.”

“Do you think he really is the only suspect?”

Will shrugged. “There’s usually at least a dozen or so folk who want a person dead, especially if we’re talking about someone like Hattie Winston. I imagine she made a lot of enemies over the years, not just her husband.”

More hope swirled in Polly as she realized the potential for proving Mitch’s innocence. Surely Mitch could identify some of Hattie’s enemies, and then they could...

Polly shook her head. If only they could get Mitch to cooperate.

She looked back up at Will. “So what you’re saying is that there’s a good chance her husband didn’t do it.”

“Most times, it ends up being the husband, I hate to say. I know you believe in Mitch’s innocence, but what I’ve learned over the years says otherwise. Still, there’s something not right about the situation, and I’ll do my best to find out what it is.”

A sound echoed in the hallway, and Polly looked up at the doorway to see Louisa hiding in the shadows.

“Louisa, is that you?”

“You’re talking about my mother’s murder, aren’t you?” Dark eyes stared at her accusingly, making Polly want to shrivel up in her seat. Mitch had specifically asked her to keep the children in the dark about the situation and here they were, talking about it where Louisa had overheard.

“I didn’t mean...” Polly could barely get the words out; her vocal cords seemed paralyzed as punishment for speaking out of turn.

“Papa wants to think we don’t know anything, but it’s hard not to notice the crowds calling him a murderer and holding up signs.”

The matter-of-fact way the young girl spoke made Polly’s heart feel raw, aching at the realization of just how much this girl’s childhood had been stolen from her.

“You weren’t meant to see any of that,” Polly said quietly.

“Well, you did do a better job than Mrs. Abernathy,” Louisa said as she finally entered the room. She picked up the teapot, then poured herself a cup of tea as if to prove she was older and more mature, and perfectly capable of running her family.

“Mrs. Abernathy said we were heathens, and she said we were going to end up dead in a hotel, just like our mother.”

Louisa took a sip of tea and looked at Polly over the rim of her teacup, daring her to react.

Oh, how she wanted to react. She wanted to scream and wail, and do that very thing to the horrid nanny who would tell children such a terrible thing.

“What kind of monster would—”

Louisa made a noise. “My father isn’t here for you to impress with your defense of us. I’ve heard enough talk to know that however she died, it was in a horrible way. And she deserved it.”

“Louisa!” The word came out shriller then Polly intended, but she couldn’t imagine a child saying that about her own mother. Even as poor of a father as her own father was, Polly had never wished for his death.

“It’s true.” The girl sat with so much composure, and wisdom in her eyes, that for a moment Polly had a hard time seeing her as just a child. “My mother was a horrible person and a horrible mother. But if we didn’t say otherwise, we were punished.”

Something cold settled in the pit of Polly’s stomach. “Your father?”

“Of course not. Mother came round once in a while and made sure the nannies understood how things were. Poor Papa...” Louisa looked down at her tea, and Polly felt a kinship with the other girl, having also been forced to grow up too soon. “He just wanted us to be kind to her and love her because she was our mother. But I don’t think he understood that we were like props in her plays. Everyone loved Hattie Winston’s darling family, but when no one was looking, Hattie Winston never cared.”

Louisa’s eyes were filled with tears, and Polly tried to reach out to touch the girl’s hand but she jerked away. Will made a noise, and once again, she felt the gentle pressure of his hand telling her to let it go.

“Mummy used to tell us that Papa wasn’t even our father. She said all kinds of horrible things when he wasn’t around, and she told us that if we said anything to him, she would send us away. We all hated her, but we had to pretend she was wonderful, because none of us wanted to go to the places she said she’d send us to.”

This time, as a sob wracked the young girl’s body, Polly couldn’t help but reach for her. To hold and comfort a little girl who should have known a mother’s love, not this disdain.

Louisa jerked away. “I don’t need your pity. I’m only telling you this so you understand that my father had every right to kill her. I heard them fight the night she died. He told her he could kill her, and she laughed. The next morning, she was dead.”

It was as if the young girl, holding Polly’s heart out for the world to see, had just crumbled it to dust. Yet she was powerless to do anything about it as tears streamed down Louisa’s face. “He can’t go to jail, he just can’t. You have to get them to understand that she deserved it.”

“What is going on in here?” Mitch’s voice roared from the hallway, sending Polly’s eardrums crashing against her already crumbling heart.

“We were just—”

“Talking to my daughter about the case, when I explicitly told you not to?”

If she’d thought the shame at Louisa overhearing them was bad, she’d had no concept of the emotion, not really, until she saw the look of betrayal in Mitch’s eyes.

“You’re right,” she said, her voice quivering. “Louisa overheard us talking, and we shouldn’t have been so indiscreet.”

The trouble with being caught in bad behavior was that no matter how much you tried to justify your actions, they were still wrong. She’d only been trying to help, but she’d gone against Mitch’s wishes and now it had made everything a mess.

“I’m so sorry,” Polly said, knowing that no amount of sorries could erase what Mitch had heard. How much he’d heard, she didn’t know, but from the fire in his eyes, and the despair sagging his face, she knew he had to at least know that his own daughter thought him capable of the crime.

Could words ever erase that kind of pain?

* * *

Mitch had thought that being arrested for Hattie’s murder was the worst thing that could ever happen. Now, even if he were convicted, the very worst thing had just happened.

His brain refused to process the words he’d just heard coming out of Louisa’s mouth. Except they echoed in his mind like a bad headache that no amount of pain powder could cure.

His own daughter thought him a murderer.

“I...” Mitch couldn’t even come up with another sentence.

“Why don’t we go outside for a walk?” Will clapped a hand on his shoulder and started to lead him out of the room.

Mitch brushed him off. “Why? Do you think I’m going to kill them, too?”

“No.” Will spoke quietly while gesturing toward the door. “But I imagine you’re hurting pretty badly right about now, and I’ve found that a little fresh air does a world of wonders.”

Fresh air? His daughter thought he’d killed her mother, and Will thought fresh air was going to fix it. Mitch’s stomach rolled, like he was going to be sick. Suddenly, it felt too hot in the room, as if he couldn’t breathe. Maybe some air would do him good. It had to be better than looking at the horrified expression on Polly’s face, and...well, he didn’t know what he saw on Louisa’s face, but if he had to guess, he’d think that someone had just killed her favorite pet. Only no one had been killed here. He’d merely been accused of being a murderer.

Mitch followed Will outside, pausing when Will stopped at a bench behind the church.

“Let’s sit,” he said, pointing to the seat.

“I’d rather stand.”

“Suit yourself,” Will said casually, sitting. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, since Mary still hasn’t gotten the knack of fixing it the way I like, and Maddie’s is perfect, so you’re going to have to bear with me.”

“I didn’t ask for your interference.” Mitch still felt warm, but he’d admit that the early-morning cool air was helping. Not so much as to fix the rest of his life, but at least his head was no longer going to explode.

“If you want to stay out of jail, then you’re going to have to accept it. I don’t know how much of our conversation you heard, but here is the gist of the case against you. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re the only person with motive. So you’d better think about who else would want Hattie dead, and let me start investigating.”

Something boiled in the pit of Mitch’s stomach, shooting to the top of his head in a searing pain. “What good will that do? My own daughter thinks I’m guilty.”

Will stood. “And she thinks you were justified in doing it. Didn’t you hear her begging me to make sure you didn’t go to jail?”

The boiling pain reduced to a simmer. “I don’t suppose I did.”

“Apparently, everyone thinks you have good reason. But that’s not going to win your case. If she was as horrible as Louisa said she was, someone else has to think so, too.”

Mitch ran his hand over his face, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare. “Louisa loved her mother.”

“Apparently, not as much as you think.”

Even if his stomach wasn’t already rolling, Mitch wasn’t sure he could digest those words.

“Why didn’t they say anything?”

“The same reason you haven’t told the children much about their mother’s death. They wanted to protect you. As much as you think you’ve been protecting them, I suspect they know a lot more about everything than you realized. Your children aren’t stupid. They can’t be, if they take after you.”

“They don’t.” The words hurt as they came out of his mouth, searing the inside of his throat. And yet, once they were out, his chest felt lighter than it had in years.

“Of course they do. Any fool can see that.”

Mitch shook his head. He’d lived the lie for so long that no one could see the truth. Especially since in his own heart, the biology of the fact didn’t matter to him. “None of them are mine.”

Will coughed. “Well, sure, I mean, I suppose it’s obvious that the little one didn’t come from you, but...” He coughed again, seeming to lack the capacity to understand.

“Hattie and I stopped having relations shortly after we were married.”

The first time he’d ever spoken the truth out loud. Oh, when Hattie needed to look good for the papers, she’d cozy up to him and playfully try to kiss him, but he’d always turned away. Everyone thought he was shy, but the real truth was, he stopped being able to stand Hattie years ago.