Sheri WhiteFeather - The Danforths - Toby, Lea and Adam - Cowboy Crescendo / Steamy Savannah Nights / The Enemy's Daughter

Toby reached out to embrace his father for a moment that transcended time altogether.

“I wouldn’t miss a family reunion for the world—whatever the reason for it might be.”

Uncomfortable with such an open display of affection in light of her own family’s threat to disown her, Heather wondered if she might possibly slip away and do a little exploring—of the house itself as well as of the raw emotions that were twisting her guts up into knots.

“And who might this pretty young thing be?” inquired Harold, directing his attention her way and banishing any chance of imminent escape.

Kind blue eyes regarded her from beneath a pair of bushy, heavy eyebrows.

“This is Dylan’s nanny,” Genie volunteered before anyone else had a chance to speak. “Her name is Heather Burroughs. You might remember her from a concert performance at the Civic Center a few years ago.”

Surprised that Toby’s socialite sister cared enough to remember her name, let alone reference any background information about her, Heather gave Harold a timid smile. Unlike her own father, who was of slight build and sharp temperament, Harold Danforth was at least 230 pounds and had a contagious grin. Shorter than either of his sons, he was nonetheless a big man. Both in heart and stature Heather imagined, if her instincts were correct.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she offered, feeling an immediate kinship with the man.

“The honor is all mine.”

Words that might sound stilted on the page warmed Heather from the inside out. The man appeared to be a true Southern gentleman through and through. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why Toby would want to leave the affection of such a loving family to strike out on his own. Fearing she might even get attached to these people herself if she wasn’t careful, Heather was glad that her job would likely occupy her time for the duration of her stay.

It was impossible to tell which of the children running about were related to one another and which were merely friends of the family. With an estate of this size, it certainly wouldn’t be any trouble accommodating a full-scale nursery school. Heather would cheerfully volunteer to run it, if it meant she wouldn’t be asked to put in a polite appearance at Abraham Danforth’s big campaign party. She’d had enough of strained social functions in which she felt compelled to vie for the attention of wealthy patrons of the arts. It would be nice to fade into the woodwork for a change.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a child’s squeals as he came ricocheting toward her from out of nowhere. Gathering her wits about her, Heather spied a boy of about Dylan’s age sliding down a fantastic spiral staircase by way of a banister polished by the seats of children for over a century. Startled, she jumped aside, fearing if she didn’t move that she might well prove to be the boy’s landing pad. Taking the opposite tack, Toby stepped forward to catch the boy in midflight.

“And just who do you think you are?” he asked, peering into a face that took him back into time. The child was the spitting image of his brother Jacob at that age. “Peter Pan perhaps?”

The boy giggled. “Not Peter Pan—just Peter!”

His father stepped forward to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Toby, let me introduce you to your nephew.”

The pride in his voice was as unmistakable as his affection for the child. Unaware that Jacob himself had only recently discovered the son he didn’t know he had, Heather simply assumed that Toby hadn’t had the privilege of meeting his impish nephew. She liked the way he connected with all children, not just his own. She supposed such a man would have more than enough love to accommodate more than one child. Dylan would surely love having brothers and sisters to fill the void that his mother had left behind.

Not that Heather was eager to marry Toby off or anything. Just the thought of it brought a blush to her cheeks.

“The boys will be good for each other,” she overheard Jacob telling his brother. “A few months ago, Peter was as reserved as Dylan and almost as quiet. Living together as a family has really brought him out of his shell.”

Older than Dylan by only a year, Peter grabbed the younger boy by the hand and urged him, “Come on. Let’s go play.”

When Dylan looked hesitantly at Heather, she smiled at the pair of them and offered to accompany them.

Toby placed a restraining hand gently on her elbow.

“If you’d like to stick around, I’m sure I can locate somebody to baby-sit while the adults get settled in. You look exhausted.”

“I don’t mind.”

The thought of going with the children and escaping the familial chaos definitely appealed to Heather. Hoping to maintain a low profile for the duration of her stay at Crofthaven, she was eager to begin exploring the grounds herself. The possibility of meeting up with that mysterious lady beneath the big oak tree held a weird fascination for her.

Besides, Heather asked herself, what good could possibly come of a mere peasant mixing with America’s royalty? She imagined such behavior could earn her the label of a gold-digger among Toby’s relatives. Having been coached how to “work a room” by her instructors, Heather was hoping never to need to put that particular skill to use again. No matter how likable they might be, why should one bother trying to forge ties with people she was likely never to see again?

Heather could think of only one good reason: it would undoubtedly help her to understand Dylan better—and his perplexing father. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he was looking so displeased with her at the moment. The stubborn set of his jaw didn’t bode well for any argument Heather might set forth.

“It’ll do the boy good to make some friends his own age,” Toby insisted.

“Oh, let her go,” Genie chided her brother before turning her attention to Heather. “Why don’t you familiarize yourself with the place while we catch up on old times? I’m sure you’d be bored with the exaggerated tales my brothers are sure to spring on my new husband in hopes of embarrassing me.”

Heather shot Toby’s sister a grateful look. She hadn’t expected anyone so privileged to make it easy for her.

“But,” she continued in a honeyed drawl, “I do expect you to accompany Toby to the festivities. If he shows up alone, he’s sure to start a stampede of unattached Southern belles in his direction that will upset Uncle Abe by taking attention away from the big political announcement he’s scheduled to make.”

Toby’s protests fell on deaf ears as she continued teasing him. Their playful banter diverted Heather’s attention from the matchmaking glint in Genie’s eyes.

She attempted a feeble rebuttal. “But don’t you think Dylan will—”

Genie cut her off with the same mulish set of her jaw as her big brother’s. The delicate-looking lady was living, breathing proof that Southern women hadn’t acquired the steel magnolias nickname for nothing. Her husband Sheikh Raf ibn Shakir preferred working with his Arabian horses to socializing with the jet set, but he promised his wife he would make an appearance at the family reunion later in the day. He was looking forward to comparing training techniques with his brother-in-law.

“Don’t worry about Dylan. He’ll be just fine. Uncle Abe’s hired a score of qualified baby-sitters for all the children in attendance. There will be everything from clowns to magicians to giant inflatable toys to keep them happily occupied during the festivities.”

Like a cool breeze, Miranda swept into the conversation with a soothing presence that had settled so many squabbles over the years. “Of course you’ll want to stay close enough by to check on Dylan if he needs you for anything, my dear. That would put my mind at ease, as well, but we would consider it a privilege to get to know you better. After all, as Dylan’s nanny, we consider you part of the family now. And as such, we would be honored to have you stay at our home. It’s just down the road a ways.