The Nanny Bargain. Glynna Kaye

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      And standing her ground was a risk—a foolhardy one perhaps—given that Sawyer had exercised due diligence before recruiting her. While she could explain the situation to any reasonable person—she and a group of high school friends had staged a protest when an out-of-town developer managed to circumvent local laws and was preparing to raze a historic building—Sawyer was right. The Selbys might not take an arrest lightly.

      Nor did it sound as if he’d be interested in hearing her side of the story. Besides, didn’t Grandma always say wrong is wrong, and having a reason for doing it didn’t make it right?

      Sawyer’s assessing gaze locked on hers as she held her breath, preparing for another reminder that with a few well-chosen words he could ensure she wouldn’t retain this job—or land any other job in town, for that matter.

      But he didn’t respond. At all.

      “So,” she said hesitantly as the silence stretched between them. “You’re good with that?”

      “It looks as if I’ll have to be, doesn’t it? That is, as long as you alert me to anything significant that could negatively impact my brothers.”

      “You have my word on it.”

      “And you have mine to keep my mouth shut, as well. Assuming, of course...”

      “I said you have my word.”

      He nodded. But despite the grudging settlement between them, she held no illusions that he was pleased about this turn of events. Even though they’d only recently become acquainted, it was clear Sawyer Banks wasn’t a man who liked to have his plans thwarted.

      Nevertheless, a prayer of thanks winged its way Heavenward. Sawyer didn’t seem to personally hold her teenage infractions against her and had agreed not to share them with the Selbys as long as she kept her part of the bargain.

      She wanted this job. How often in the past week had she relived her encounter with the orphaned Cubby and his grandfather at the ice cream shop? Recalled how it had hit too close to home? She wanted to be here for the little guy and his brother. She needed to be here to hold them and hug them when tears flowed. But she had no intention of sharing with Sawyer her impressions of that chance—or divine?—meeting or what convinced her to change her mind about applying for the job.

      He wouldn’t understand.

      “What did Ray and Therese say—” Sawyer’s gaze probed “—when you told them you’d also be working part-time at the Outpost?”

      He hadn’t initially been pleased last week when she insisted that she’d tell them before accepting any job offer. “They were good with it.”

      He looked at her doubtfully.

      She didn’t attempt to elaborate. Couldn’t, in fact, because there was nothing else to tell except that Therese and Ray had exchanged a look, the significance of which she didn’t understand. Then Ray nodded and thanked her for telling them.

      That was it.

      So why did Sawyer seem to think they might not be pleased?

      “Is there something you’re not telling me about your relationship with the Selbys?”

      “What makes you think that?”

      “You weren’t thrilled when I told you I was going to be up front with them about plans to work for you, and now you’re doubting me when I told you they didn’t have any problems with it. Obviously, you anticipated they might.”

      “What can I say? It’s awkward. You know, their daughter being married to my dad. Me being a half brother to the product of that union. Me being an age most would expect the twins’ father to be. I’m part of the family, yet not really. It’s hard to figure out how I’m supposed to fit into the boys’ lives. Into Therese’s and Ray’s.”

      She could see how that connection would be a problematic one, for the Selbys and Sawyer alike. Definitely complex. Maybe that’s all there was to the tension she’d sensed this morning. Nothing more.

      Ready to move away from unsettling topics, she nodded to the wad of paper towels in his hand, her nose wrinkling. “Thanks for disposing of that. I hope I won’t need it.”

      He laughed. “Naw. I think you’ll be fine.”

      “I’ll remind myself of your words if I hear any rustling in the kitchen during the deep dark hours of the night.”

      He lifted his hand that held the trap. “Call me. Any hour. Day or night. I’ll be on your doorstep.”

      Her cheeks warmed as their gazes met.

      “I’d better get going.” He moved toward the door to the hallway. “I have errands to run before I open up shop this morning and I need to let you get to your unpacking.”

      “Lots to do.” She motioned to the stacks of boxes. “I guess I’ll talk to you next week, then?”

      “Sounds like a plan.”

      Yeah, it was a plan alright. That is, unless she needed the mousetrap reset after all...

      * * *

      Sawyer had barely climbed into his crew-cab pickup when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, then grimaced. Kyle Guthridge.

      “Yo, Sawyer.” His friend’s west Texas drawl echoed in his ear despite the fact the man had lived in Arizona since he was twelve. “Got your phone message that you’ll be late on tomorrow’s payment.”

      At least he had the generosity of spirit not to say “again.” Sawyer cringed inwardly, acutely aware of the risk his longtime friend had knowingly taken in extending the loan, probably one his wife had loudly protested.

      “My apologies, Kyle. Temporary cash-flow problem. But I’ll be able to make a deposit by the end of next week and will drop off a check then.”

      “I totally get the cash-flow issue and don’t mean to badger you.”

      “It won’t happen again.” But this was the second time in four months. He prided himself on his integrity. His financial responsibility. But since early last summer he’d been hammered by one unbudgeted expense after another, most related to building maintenance. Plumbing. Electrical. And who’d have thought a new roof and replacing a furnace large enough for a retail space would cost that much?

      That series of events had led him to approach a few buddies for personal loans rather than the bank where he’d taken over Grandpa’s mortgage payments on the Outpost. But he’d sell his pop-up camper or his fishing boat before he’d allow a payment to be delayed a third time.

      “You’re not badgering,” Sawyer continued, embarrassed for his friend at having to speak up as much as he was for himself. “We’re friends, but we’re also businessmen.”

      “That we are.” Kyle paused. “I don’t suppose you’re going to the play at the church next Friday night, are you? Annie and I are taking the kids. Family friendly. You could bring the check with you. That would save you a trip to my place.”

      Kyle СКАЧАТЬ