Karen Rose: The Nanny Clause

Glancing at the desk in the front lobby, Emma noticed the chair was vacant. Possibly the volunteer had gone into the gift shop off the lobby to help a patron.

Suddenly Emma’s attention swerved toward the double-glass front doors. Three children charged through the door in front of a tall man carrying a carton. A tall handsome man. She diverted her attention to the holes that had been cut into the sides of the box. Emma suspected an animal was contained inside.

The newcomer, with dark brown hair cut short and neat, wearing a businesslike white oxford shirt, had a commanding presence as his deep voice advised the girls, “Slow down until we know where we’re going.”

His daughters, perhaps?

Emma suspected he might be a professional man, not only because of the crisp button-down shirt—though he’d rolled up the sleeves—but also because of the pressed charcoal-gray slacks he wore along with the leather loafers. She hadn’t seen him here before.

Two of the girls were chattering away. The middle one, who looked about nine, wore a baseball cap backward and pulled on her dad’s elbow. “What will they do with her? Where will they put her? How long will they keep her?”

The smallest child seemed to be enamored with the paintings on the walls. “Isn’t that cool?” She was pointing to a photo of a cat that had been color-blocked with digital photography.

The oldest child didn’t seem to be reacting to anything. Eleven or twelve, maybe, Emma guessed. All three girls were dressed in colorful skirts and blouses.

The man raised his gaze to Emma’s. His eyes were green. To her dismay, she couldn’t seem to look away.

Thank goodness, he finally did, as he moved toward her. “Are you the person in charge?” His gaze ran down her outfit—a white T-shirt with the red logo of the shelter that was a profile of a dog and a cat in a heart—and jeans. Her wardrobe was minimal because she’d come to Spring Forest on an impulse, a very bad impulse. When she remembered that, she knew she couldn’t let herself be mesmerized by a man’s eyes or his words or his smile. Not ever again.

“I guess you could say I’m in charge at the moment. How can I help you?”

The three girls crossed to her. The smallest explained eagerly, “We found her at my dad’s law office under the porch. We think she’s pregnant.”

“It’s a cat,” the middle child explained. “She’s white with spots of black and gold and brown on her back.”

“Then she must be a calico,” Emma suggested.

Finally, the oldest spoke. “That’s what my dad’s phone said. I researched photos of cats.”

The smallest one again piped up. “Paris can’t have a phone ’til she’s twelve, and that’s only if she’s ree-spon-si-ble.” The little girl drew out the word as if it was very important.

“Girls, let’s introduce ourselves before you overwhelm this nice lady. I’m Daniel Sutton,” he said. “And these are my daughters—Paris, Penny and Pippa.”

“I’m Penny,” the middle child added, raising her hand.

“I’m Emma Alvarez,” Emma returned.

“Who painted these pictures hanging on the walls?” the youngest one asked.

Emma smiled at the child, who looked totally interested. “They’re all done by local artists. Do you like to draw?”

“Yes. But I’m not very good. I like to look at paintings.”

With a smile—a smile that really did make her stomach quiver a bit—Daniel Sutton asked, “Where would you like me to take the cat? I don’t know much about your facility. This is the first I’ve been here since the tornado hit in March.”

From what Emma understood, the shelter had been renovated since the tornado. Some renovations were still in progress. “Are you sure the cat you found doesn’t belong to a neighbor?” Emma asked.

“I checked with neighbors on both sides before we brought her in. They don’t have cats and didn’t recognize the description of this one. You are going to take her, aren’t you? I’ve made donations over the years...”

Donations were important, Emma had to admit, but that had nothing to do with whether they took an animal or not. “I’ll have to take her back to the quarantine area.”

Pippa asked, “What’s quarantine?”

Paris didn’t give Emma time to answer. “That’s a place where the animal has to stay all alone to see if she has any diseases.”

“I don’t want her to stay all alone,” Penny said with a scowl.

“She won’t exactly be all alone,” Emma explained. “She’s separated from the other animals so that we can make sure she’s healthy. We’ll scan her, too, to see if she’s microchipped. If she is, that would help us find her owner.”

Daniel Sutton’s eyes held a myriad of questions, probably tough ones about what they’d do if the cat was seriously ill. Emma didn’t want to answer them around his daughters.

“Can we go with her?” Pippa asked.

Emma crouched down to Pippa in order to make eye-to-eye contact. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you and Paris and Penny come part of the way with me. You can look through the glass wall at the other cats we have who are waiting to be adopted.”

“Do you have pups, too?” Paris asked.

“We do. You can see those also. Meanwhile, I’ll take this calico back to the quarantine area and I’ll talk to our vet tech. She’ll have to check her and see what might have to be done to care for her.” Emma’s gaze returned to Daniel’s. “I have paperwork you’ll have to fill out. If you want to wait with your daughters, I’ll collect it and bring it out.”

She reached for the box that the lawyer held in his hands. It looked as if it had once held reams of paper and it had handles on either side. After she took the box, she set it on a nearby table. “I just want to take a peek. I’m sure your girls probably want to wish her well, too.”

Pippa, Paris and Penny all gathered around the box as Emma removed the lid. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty girl,” Emma said. Her white fur was a bit dirty but her colors were vibrant.

“Are you going to give her a bath?” Pippa asked.

Emma laughed. “I doubt that. When she’s cared for and has enough to eat, she’ll groom herself. That’s what cats do. My guess is she’s tired from running here and there, trying to find a place out of the weather and get something to eat.”

The girls seemed to be hanging on her every word.

When Emma glanced up at Daniel Sutton, he was watching her. His expression was... curious , if she had to put a word to it. She was curious about him, too, but had no right to be. He was probably married.

There wasn’t a ring on his finger, but she knew better than most that the symbol of marriage might not mean anything.

Reminding herself that her only interest was the cat in front of her, and maybe the girls, she asked, “Did she give you any trouble when you handled her?”

Daniel shook his head. “She was compliant, even purred a little when Penny petted her.”

“Did you give her anything to eat?”

“I had roasted chicken in my office refrigerator. I cut off a piece and chopped it up. She gobbled it down.”

“Really fast,” Pippa added.

Paris said quietly, “She rubbed against my legs, too, over and over again, like she wanted to be friends.”

The cat was looking at Emma as if asking what was going to happen next. Emma wished she knew and hoped for the best.

* * *

Daniel felt shaken after Emma Alvarez walked away. He hadn’t been attracted to a woman since Lydia had left. What was this?

Obviously, Emma was compassionate, not only with animals, but also with children. Before Lydia left, he hadn’t even seen that compassion in his ex-wife toward her own offspring, much less strangers.