Small-Town Nanny (14 page)

“You know,” she said as soon as they were out in the parking lot, “we might've just started a whole lot of gossip.”

“I didn't see Miss Minnie Falcon,” Sam said with a smile.

“No, but that lady with the white updo? That's one of Miss Minnie's best friends. She'll describe us, and the news will be all over the Senior Towers.” She frowned. “Not to mention that Tawny's a talker.”

“You think people are that interested?”

“In you, yes. Everyone cares about who the local millionaire takes to dinner.” By unspoken agreement, they'd started strolling away from town, down a dirt road between two fields, one planted with corn and one with soybeans. The rural fragrances blew on a warm breeze, pungent.

“I've taken a good number of guests to dinner there,” Sam said. “It shouldn't be that noteworthy.”

“Good to know I'm part of a crowd.” She meant the remark to be a joke, but it came out sounding hurt.

He heard it, clearly, and put an arm around her shoulders. “I can truthfully say I've never had more fun.” He squeezed her to his side. “You're a great conversationalist. I really like being with you.”

“Thanks.” Timidly, she put an arm around his waist, and her heart rate shot into the stratosphere, so she let it drop, pretending she'd just meant a quick hug. “I had a good time, too.” She hesitated, then added, “I'm glad we're friends.”

He turned to face her and took her hands in his. “Is that what we are, Susan? Friends?”

She looked up at him, noticing the way the moonlight highlighted the planes of his face. “Aren't we?”

He drew in a breath. “I'm...trying to figure that out.” He looked to the side, across the cornfield, for a long moment and then looked back at her. “The thing is, I can't seem to get around this feeling I have for you. I've tried. I've told myself we're opposites, that it wouldn't work. I've tried to connect with women who are more my type. But it's not working, and I've got to admit to myself...” He leaned in. “I've got to admit, I'm falling in love with you.”

Susan's heart fluttered madly, like a caged songbird, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. This was the moment she'd never thought to have. Shouldn't she be thrilled? Why did she feel so confused?

She replayed what he'd said in her mind.

“I know you're your own woman and think your own way,” he went on, “but I'm wondering if you might put some of that aside for Mindy and me.”

The mention of Mindy pushed Susan's questions away for a minute. Mindy was a wonderful little girl, so easy to love.

But Sam... She looked up at him, biting her lip.

His smile told her he already knew what her reaction would be.

Because after all, when did the poor teacher from a messed-up family say no to the handsome millionaire?

He leaned down as if he was going to kiss her, and she took a giant step back. Back from him, and back from the confusion he was causing her.

Having her hands free from his felt better. Safer. She propped one on her hip. “So you overcame your scruples and fell in love against your better judgment? And I'm supposed to be grateful, and give up being my own woman, and put my own needs and plans aside?”

“I didn't mean it that way.” Behind him, clouds skittered across the moon.

Her heart was still pounding, almost as if she was afraid. But she wasn't afraid, was she? She was angry. “Haven't you ever read
Pride and Prejudice
?”

Her tone pushed the romantic expression from his eyes. “No.”

“Well, if you had, you'd know that this type of a declaration leaves a little bit to be desired,” she snapped.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Wait. I did something wrong, and I have no idea what it is.”

“Seriously, Sam?” She put her hands on her hips. “You practically told me how bad you feel about...” She couldn't say it. Couldn't acknowledge that he'd said he was falling in love with her.

Couldn't
believe
it.

“Wait a minute.” He put his hands on her shoulders, trapping her. “I'm not saying I was right to try to date a certain type of woman. I'm just saying that getting over my past tendencies has been a process. And at the other side of the process...” He bent his head to one side and a crooked smile came onto his face. “At the other side of the process, was you.”

She bit her lip. “I wasn't just standing here waiting for you, Sam. I'm not going to fall into your arms just because you've figured a few things out.”

“And I wouldn't expect you to.” He squeezed her shoulders, then let them go and took her hand, urging her to walk a little further. “I know it'll take time and courtship and compromise. I'm just hoping we can do that, is all.”

And drat if she didn't still hear that certainty in his voice. She could read his thoughts:
there's no way Susan could say no to me.

She walked along the dirt road beside him, fuming. This was exactly why she didn't want to get involved with a man. All this scary emotion, all this confusion. All this feeling of hearing his words and trying to interpret what he meant. It made her stomach hurt.

Best to just be alone. She'd always said it, always known it about herself, and here was exhibit A.

She walked faster.

Until she felt a hand on her shoulder, pressing down, stopping her. “Susan. Wait.”

“What?” she asked impatiently without turning around.

Sam stepped in front of her so she couldn't proceed. He looked down at her. “What I really want,” he said, “is to kiss you.”

She opened her mouth to refuse, and she was going to, for sure. But then she saw that a muscle was twitching under his eye.

Was he nervous?

Sam, the millionaire, nervous?

She cocked her head to one side, looking at him. He'd certainly put on a good show of being the dominant, successful male, but now that she studied him, she could see other signs. The hand he brushed through his hair. The slight uncertainty in his eyes. The way that when his hand reached out to touch her cheek, she could see it trembling just a little.

Now that was different. Sam was so accustomed to putting on a show of confidence in the business world that maybe he didn't know how to conduct himself in the personal world. Maybe he was used to pushing and acting cocky because that's what worked in doing deals. Maybe he didn't know how annoying that trait was when you were trying to declare your feelings to a woman.

“Do you...do you have any of those feelings for me, too?” He was still touching her cheek. And there was still a slight quiver in his hand. “Look, I don't pretend to understand you, or to know exactly how to make this work—”

She reached up and pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

At least she started to. She started to assume the leadership role, but he quickly took it back, and their connection was a give and take, sweet and intense and...electrifying.

Susan didn't want it to stop, but she felt as if she might pass out if it went on, so she took a step back and stared at him. “Wow.”

He nodded slowly, never letting go of her eyes. “Wow.”

Then he pulled her to his side and put an arm around her shoulders and they walked together in the direction of the car.

Just like before, only everything was completely different.

Everything was new.

Driving home, the air in the car felt pregnant with possibilities. Susan had never felt anything like those moments with Sam. Not when she was engaged; not on any other dates. Not ever.

And the slight bit of insecurity that he'd shown made her feel as if she knew him better than ever before. That she'd gotten to know another side of the arrogant millionaire. A side she liked better. A side she wanted to know better.

When they pulled up to the house, she wondered if he'd kiss her again. Wondered if her heart could stand it, or if it would race right out of control.

But there was no chance to find out. Because there, sitting in the glow of the headlights, was a familiar figure. “Sam?” she asked, hearing the shrillness at her own voice. “What on earth is my mother doing here?”

Chapter Ten

S
till reeling from the intensity of kissing Susan, from the emotions that swelled his heart, Sam climbed out of the car, looking from Susan to her mother and back again. Two more different women could scarcely be imagined.

Where Susan looked funky and individualistic, her mother looked perfectly proper. Hair in a neat, curly style, impeccable makeup, nails done.

He opened the car door for Susan and reached down to help her climb out. Sports cars weren't always the easiest for women to navigate in a dress.

“I'm sorry to just show up here,” Mrs. Hayashi said, hurrying toward them, then stopping a few feet away. “I tried to call when I got in to Columbus, but I couldn't get through.”

Susan fumbled in her purse for her phone. “I'm sorry, Mom. It was off.”

“You've been out? Somewhere dressy?” There were questions in the older woman's voice. “What have you gotten on your shoes, Susie?”

Susan looked down, and so did Sam. “We took a walk,” Susan said, coloring deeply.

The two women still hadn't hugged.

Mrs. Hayashi shot him a quick glance, and heat rose in Sam's face, too. Of course, a mother would wonder where her daughter's employer had taken her, and why, and what his intentions were.

If only he knew the answers.

The moon cast a silvery light, making jewels across Susan's dark hair. A chorus of cicadas chirped in rising and falling waves, punctuated by a dog barking somewhere down the road. New-mown grass sent its tangy summer smell from next door.

“Well, I'm forgetting my manners.” The woman approached Sam and held out her hand. “I'm Madolyn Hayashi, Susie's mom. It was so kind of you to send me that airline ticket—”

“You
sent
her an
airline
ticket?” Susan's jaw dropped.

“I had the extra miles,” Sam tried to explain. “And I overheard you talking about how you wanted to do that. I just thought I could speed it up a little and give you a nice surprise.”

Susan shot him a glare, and he had the feeling that, if her mother weren't here, she'd have kicked him. “Mom,” she said, “I was going to send you a ticket next week. I've been saving. You didn't have to take his.”

“It was no problem.” Sam wasn't sure what he'd done wrong. Was Susan upset that he'd sent her mom a ticket without telling her? Or was it that she didn't want her mom around?

“It was supposed to be for you to take a vacation,” Susan went on. “For you to do something relaxing, now that you have a break from Donny.”

“Oh, honey, I wanted to see you, not go to a spa!” Almost hesitantly, she stepped closer.

And then the two women lurched into a hug that started out awkward and then lingered long enough to get close. “I missed you so much,” Mrs. Hayashi said finally, stepping back to hold Susan's hands. “Especially since Donny's away. I started thinking about things, things I've done wrong.”

“Mom...” Susan's face twisted in a complicated expression of love and exasperation and sorrow.

“I know our relationship hasn't been the best, and I wanted to see you, to try to fix things. I had the means, thanks to your boss, so yesterday I just packed up my things and called the airlines, and today...here I am. You don't mind, do you?”

“Mom, I'm glad you're here,” Susan said, her eyes shiny in that way Sam was learning meant she was trying not to cry. “If this is where you want to be, I'm glad you came.”

Sam had been listening, arms crossed, and thinking at the same time. Susan's mother's words made him reflect about parenting: how quickly it all went by, how little time you really had with your kids. Look at Mindy, away at camp. The first of many times she'd wave and run away. She'd go farther and farther in the years to come.

Susan and her mother had a chance to renew their relationship, right now. And suddenly it came to him, brilliant in its perfect simplicity. “Tell you what,” he said, “for once, you
can
have it both ways. There's a spa and resort just an hour away. I have an ownership interest in it, and I'd like to get you two a room and some spa treatments there. You can go pamper yourselves and reconnect.”

And the side benefit was that he could figure out what on earth he was doing, kissing Susan.

“No way!” Susan turned away from her mother to face him, hands on hips. “You've already done enough for us, Sam. We couldn't possibly accept.”

“I want you to,” he said. Even more than with Marie, who'd grown up wealthy, he found he liked providing special things for Susan, who wasn't so used to it. Susan didn't expect people to do things for her; she almost had the reverse of the entitlement mentality he'd seen among so many of his younger workers. “Just take me up on the offer in the spirit it's meant. No obligations, no strings. I just want you to enjoy some time with your mom.”

“No!” She was shaking her head. “It's not...we're not...” She lifted her hands, palms up, clearly at a loss to explain.

“Susie.” Her mother put a perfectly manicured hand on Susan's shoulder. “It makes him feel good to do it. Men like to do nice things for women.”

Susan's eye-roll was monumental, and for just a minute, he could completely picture her as a teenager.

“Let him help us,” Mrs. Hayashi urged.

“Besides,” Susan went on, twisting away from her mother in another teenager-like motion, “what about Mindy?”

“I just decided I'm going to take a week off to spend with her. Take her to the zoo, hang out at the pool. I miss her like crazy, having her away for the weekend, and I want to spend some extra time with her.”

“That is so sweet,” Mrs. Hayashi said. “I think that's wonderful.”

Susan obviously didn't share the belief, but the slump of her shoulders let him know she realized she was defeated.

Good. She didn't get enough pampering in her life, that much was obvious.

And time off work would let him do some thinking about where his life was going and what he was doing. He might even go to that men's prayer breakfast Dion and Troy were always bugging him about.

Yes, a week off might give him some more perspective on his life.

* * *

“Daddy, I'm gonna listen to Mr. Eakin's story, okay?” Mindy said two evenings later.

“Sure, that's fine.”

It was the Senior Towers open house, and the elders had gone all out to get the community to stop in and see what went on there. There were storytelling and craft booths, a used-book sale and a table set up to match senior volunteers with community needs.

Sam had relished spending the day with Mindy, hearing her exuberance about her camping experience, sharing simple summer pleasures like swimming and cooking out and the playground in the park.

At the same time, he had to acknowledge that it was hard to keep a five-year-old entertained. Especially one who was getting super excited about her upcoming birthday. He had a renewed respect for teachers and day care workers and nannies.

And for Susan.

In fact, he'd been thinking a lot about Susan.

Without her, the house was quiet, maybe a little lonely. There was less color and excitement.

He realized that he missed her in a completely different way than he'd missed Marie.

Marie had been stability and deep married love. She'd been the mother of his child. And her death had ripped a hole in his heart and in their home, one he and Mindy had been struggling to fix ever since.

Susan was excitement and spice. Her absence didn't hurt in the same way that the loss of Marie had, of course, partly because they knew Susan was coming back, and partly because his and Mindy's relationship with her was just beginning. It wasn't at all clear where it would go.

A lot of that, he realized, depended on him. There was something between him and Susan, something electric. But could he let go of the past for long enough to experience it and see where it led? Could he let go of at least some of his plans for a life as similar as possible to what he and Marie had planned together, what they'd always wanted?

“Sam Hinton.” A clawlike hand grasped his arm, and he turned to see Miss Minnie Falcon, his old Sunday school teacher, glaring at him.

“Hey, Miss Minnie,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I'd be more at peace if I knew what was going on over in that mansion of yours.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you took that nanny of yours out on a date.” She looked at him as if he'd pocketed the Sunday school funds.

“I heard the same,” came a male voice, one he dreaded because it was always critical and negative. Gramps Camden had issues with Sam's father, but didn't seem to be able to make a distinction between the generations. He always took his ire out on Sam. “Hi, Mr. Camden,” Sam said, restraining his sigh.

“What are your intentions toward our Susan?” the older man asked. “I hope you're not taking advantage. She's a real nice girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Miss Minnie agreed. “Very active in the church. Very helpful, and has a mind of her own.”

“Which I wouldn't have figured you to like,” Gramps said. “Your father never did.”

“Hey, hey,” Sam said, trying to still the gossip. “We went out for a friendly dinner. That's all.”

“At Chez La Ferme?” Minnie sounded scandalized. “Why, you probably spent over fifty dollars on that dinner. That's hardly something you do with just friends. Or should I say, it's hardly something a poor schoolteacher can afford.”

“But a rich businessman can,” Gramps said. “Question is, why would he want to?”

“Are you courting her?” Miss Minnie asked.

Sam looked from one to the other and felt a confessional urge similar to one he'd felt years ago, in Sunday school. He gave up trying to say anything but the truth. “I don't know,” he admitted. “We're so different. I don't know where it could go, but I do like her.”

“How's she feel about you?” Gramps asked. “I warned her about your family. She's probably on her guard, as well she should be.”

Sam thought, momentarily, of the way her eyes had softened as he'd leaned down to kiss her. “I think she's as confused as I am.”

Miss Minnie frowned. “We've all got our eyes on you, young man.”

“And as the man,” Gramps said, “it's your job to get yourself un-confused. Figure out what you're doing. Don't string her along.”

The old man was right, Sam reflected as he collected Mindy and headed home. The whole town of Rescue River knew what was going on, and he didn't want to cause gossip or hurt Susan's reputation.

He needed to make some decisions, and fast. Before the decisions made themselves for him. He just didn't know what to do.

* * *

Susan stood in the giant Rural America Outlet Store with her mother, looking through the little girls' clothing section.

Susan held up a colorful romper. “Mindy would look adorable in this!”

Her mother eyed her speculatively. “You've gotten close to her.”

“Even being away for these few days, I've really missed that child.” Susan couldn't wait to find out how Mindy had done at camp and to hear her stories of her week with her daddy.

“So get it,” her mother said after feeling the fabric and squinting at the price tag. “It's a good bargain. But we should also get her something fun and glittery. Maybe a nail polish set.” She led the way out of the clothing department and toward the makeup aisles.

“That's too grown-up,” Susan protested, following along past counters of jewelry and watches. “She's only five.”

“Turning six, right?” Her mother smiled back at her. “Little girls that age love girly stuff. Even you did, back then.”

As they reached the nail polish rack, Susan extended her freshly pedicured foot, showing off her new sparkly pink nail polish. “I did well with the girly stuff this week, didn't I?”

“Kicking and screaming, but yes.” Her mother handed her a set of pale colors in a cartoonish box obviously meant for little girls. “What about these?”

Susan studied it. “Well, Sam will shoot me for buying it, but you're right, Mindy will love some nail polish.”

“Then let's get it.” Her mother took the polish set from her, checked the price and dropped it into their basket with the satisfied smile of an experienced bargain hunter.

The fun of shopping together was one of many rediscoveries Susan had made during the week. They'd gotten spa treatments and giggled through yoga classes and cried through the sappy chick flicks they both loved. In between, they'd done a little bit of real talking: about Donny, about Susan's father and about the mistakes they'd both made during Susan's stormy adolescence.

One conversation in particular stood out—the one about when Susan's father had left.

“I held onto him long after the love had died,” her mother admitted, “with guilt about leaving me with you kids, and with pressure about how he didn't make enough money. I wasn't a good wife, Susie, and after he left, I tried to sway you kids against him.”

“You tried so hard to make him happy, though,” Susan had protested. “All those Japanese dinners, all your own needs suppressed.”

“Which was my choice,” Susan's mother declared. “I should have gotten a job and a life, especially after Donny was in school. The truth is, I was depressed and anxious, and I took it out on all of you.”

Susan had hugged her mother. “I took out plenty on you, too,” she said. “Some of the things I said to you as a teenager! I'm so sorry, Mom.”

“Oh, every teenager does that, especially girls. I don't blame you for rebelling.”

After that, they'd kept things light, but the tension and awkwardness that had hindered their connection for years was mostly gone. Susan felt better about their relationship than she ever had before, and for that, she was grateful to Sam Hinton.