The Nanny's Secret Child. Lorraine Beatty

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СКАЧАТЬ was, let alone be here taking care of her. The truth could never come out. It would be disastrous for everyone involved. The father would be furious. He might bring charges against her or the agency. Agatha Montrose, the owner of the Nanny Connection Agency, was her friend and mentor. She’d never considered what would happen to her, not to mention Julie’s own reputation, should the truth come out. But most important of all, what emotional damage would it do to Abby? A swell of anxiety crashed over her senses. She stood, struggling to hold herself together. She had to calm down. No one knew about Abby except DiDi. Julie’s own parents didn’t know. She’d never told them she was pregnant. Not that it would have mattered one way or the other to them.

      Julie gathered up the plates and glasses, taking her time at the sink, rinsing and stacking them on the counter. Doubts about this decision bombarded her from every direction. This had seemed like a gift from God at first. She’d been convinced it was the answer to her long-uplifted prayers. But now... Slowly she wiped her hands on a towel, giving herself time to regroup.

      Since the day her baby was born, she’d been plagued with one question. Not, had she done the right thing in giving her up—she’d had no choice in that regard. Alone, penniless with no one to turn to, she’d known the only future she could offer her baby girl was to give her to a couple who could provide a home, brothers and sisters, love and security.

      The question that had haunted her all these years was whether or not her child was happy and well cared for. Did her adopted parents love her as much as her birth mother did? That love had been the only way she’d been able to let her go. Julie fingered the small silver heart with the birthstone in the center. The only reminder of the little girl she had given up.

      DiDi had somehow managed to get the name of the adoptive parents and given it to her. She’d always known the Montgomerys had taken her child, and that they lived in Mississippi, but she’d never acted upon the knowledge. She’d never looked them up, never tried to find where they lived, believing in her heart that it was best for her baby.

      Until the day Gil Montgomery’s name had appeared at the agency, requesting a short-term nanny. The application stated he’d lost his wife a few months ago and he needed a temporary caregiver for his daughter. Julie carefully folded the towel, glancing over at Abby, still sitting quietly at the table. She might have resisted the need to assure herself of her child’s well-being if it hadn’t been for her move to Paris.

      The only obstacle to her dream move was her gnawing fear. Stories about adopted children who’d been mistreated, neglected or even given up again never failed to fuel a torrent of doubt and fear in her heart. What if her baby was with a family that didn’t truly love her? If Julie knew her baby was happy, in a loving environment, then she could leave the country secure in the knowledge that it had all been worth it.

      Julie closed her eyes, thanking the Lord for allowing her this chance. Five days. Enough time to allay her fears, to get to know her child, to gain peace and perspective before closing the door on this part of her life forever. And this was a blessing from God. It had to be.

      She smiled at the little girl. “Okay, I’m ready to see your house. Where do you want to start?”

      Begrudgingly, Abby scooted out of her chair, nodding toward the counter. “This is the kitchen.”

      She chuckled. “Really?” Abby didn’t laugh with her, but she did move her mouth to one side. Julie followed the little girl through the downstairs rooms, pointing out each area with little fanfare. She noticed the whole house was in need of love and attention. She had a feeling the people who lived here might have that same need. She shook off the worrisome thought. She needed to think with her head, not her heart. Abby had been in Dover only a short while, and her long-term well-being wasn’t her concern. Only her day-to-day care.

      Back inside, she followed Abby upstairs.

      “This is my room.”

      Julie took a quick survey of the large space. There was something odd about the decor. The pink paint was an unusual shade, the bedspread clashed with the pillows, and the curtains were more suited for a nursery. Then it hit her. This room was decorated by a man who had no idea what a little girl’s room should look like. It was not the room an eight-year-old girl would dream about. Julie looked for something positive to say. “This is a really nice room. Look at all the sunlight you get.”

      “It’s pink. I hate pink. I like purple. My other room was purple.”

      “It’s not hard to paint walls. I’ll bet if you told your daddy that you’d rather have a purple room, he’d change it for you.”

      Abby tossed her backpack onto the bed, then climbed up beside it, arms crossed over her little chest. “No, he wouldn’t.”

      She sat beside her. “What makes you say that?”

      “He doesn’t want to be my daddy. Aunt Pam said so.”

      Julie’s concern rose. Was this chip on her shoulder a result of grief and being taken from her home, or was there something more behind her attitude? If this were any other assignment, Julie would just go on about her job. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

      “I’m sure your Aunt Pam didn’t mean that. Sometimes when grown-ups are angry at each other, they say things they don’t mean. Your daddy brought you to this nice house and this town so you could be close to your family. Like your grandmother. You like her, don’t you?”

      Abby nodded, eyes glistening.

      “She’ll be back very soon. In the meantime, your daddy has asked me to take very good care of you and play with you and...” to love you. “And I’m a professional at that kind of thing.”

      “What’s that mean?”

      “That means I’m very good at taking care of children. I have lots of things we can do that are fun. Like drawing.” Maybe she could get Abby to express her feelings through pictures, a technique that had worked well for Julie in the past. “Let’s go back downstairs and draw until your dad gets back.” Reluctantly, the little girl followed.

      Julie clutched the stair railing as she descended the steps. She and Mr. Montgomery needed to have a talk. She wanted to know what Abby had been through. If she was going to help her child, she needed to know about her past. She needed to know what... She stopped at the bottom, releasing a heavy sigh. What was she doing? She wasn’t here to help Abby. She wasn’t her mother, not really. She was the caregiver for a few days. Nothing more.

      Blood surged in her ears like waves. But how could she ignore that Abby was an unhappy little girl? She was sad and confused and clung to her backpack like a lifeline, which showed the depth of her insecurity. And she was helpless to do anything about it. Abby needed her help. She needed love and attention, and who better to provide that than her mother?

      * * *

      Gil pulled into his designated parking spot and shut off the engine, swallowing around the worry clogging his throat. He’d nearly turned around three times to go back and stay with Abby. He’d been adjusting to the idea of a young attractive nanny until she’d returned to the kitchen looking pale and shaky. She’d regained her equilibrium quickly, but it left him wondering if she was sick, and questioning his decision to leave his child with a stranger.

      What had surprised him was the surge of protectiveness toward the woman that had overtaken him. He’d wanted to pull her close and comfort her. He’d never felt that way before. He was obviously more stressed over this situation than he’d thought. Julie СКАЧАТЬ