Teresa Southwick - Finding Family...and Forever?

“Dr. Flint—” She leaned toward him, earnest in her defense. “There’s nothing I can say to convince you of my sincerity, but I’m well qualified. I have a degree in early childhood development and the references I provided might help ease your mind. A short-term contract would probably be best. If either of us isn’t satisfied with the bargain at any time, a suitable notification period should be spelled out. Enough time for either or both of us to make other arrangements.”

That seemed fair to him, but he wasn’t ready to say so just yet. Instead, he asked, “What about your life in California?”

“I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“Do you have family? Friends? A house to be sold or closed up?” Someone special?

Justin found himself most interested in the answer to the question he hadn’t asked out loud. She was pretty. He was a guy and couldn’t help noticing. She must have a boyfriend and, if not, candidates were probably lined up around the block waiting to apply for the position.

Emma sat back and crossed one slender leg over the other. “I don’t have family. On top of being an only child, my father died when I was ten and Mother passed away a little less than a year ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Her mouth pulled tight, but it looked like more than grief. “She left me the house, but I have a friend who will take care of it.”

He wanted very much to know if the friend was a man, but asking wouldn’t be professional. Before he could say more, there was a knock on his office door just before Ginny Irwin, the clinic nurse, poked her head into the room. “Dr. Flint, your first afternoon appointment is here.”

Since she could have relayed that information by intercom, Justin suspected she hiked upstairs to the second floor in order to get a look at the nanny applicant.

“Thanks, Ginny. I’ll be right down.”

“Okay.” She stared curiously at the young woman across the desk from him, then backed out, closing the door behind her.

“All right,” he said, “I guess we’re finished.”

“There’s just one more thing I’d like to say.” Emma picked up her purse from the floor beside her, then stood.

“What?” he asked.

“I want this job very much. And I’m very good with children.”

He would check that out for himself. “All right. I have one more interview.”

“Will you let me know one way or the other?”

“Yes.” He stood up and felt as if he towered over her, then hated that it made him feel protective. There was something vulnerable and fragile about this woman, but getting sucked into the feeling was a bad idea. “I’ll do a thorough background check and personally contact all the references you listed.”

“Good. I’d expect nothing less. And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a live-in position, right?”

“It is. And light housekeeping will also be required. But my primary concern is the well-being of my son. If I get called for an emergency in the middle of the night, trying to find child care could be a problem. I need someone there.”

“So if I’ll be living under your roof, it would be a good idea for me to know something about you. That way, everyone feels better.” She shrugged then held out her hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Dr. Flint.”

Justin wrapped his fingers around hers and felt a sizzle all the way up his arm. That was enough to make him want the next job applicant to actually be Mary Poppins. He needed to hire someone right away. His current nanny was very close to leaving him in a real bind when she headed back to the Sunshine State.

So far, Emma Robbins was the most qualified applicant, if her references checked out. That made her the leading candidate. On the downside, he was too aware of her as a woman.

Nothing about that made him feel better.

* * *

Emma drove up the hill to Justin Flint’s impressive, two-story house. After parking, she took a good look. The place was big and located in the exclusive, custom-home development of Lake View Estates. She took a deep breath and exited the car. The wraparound front porch had a white railing that opened to double front doors with etched glass. Light danced through it and was like a beacon of welcome.

“Homey,” she whispered to herself. The warmth was unexpected. Maybe she’d been expecting pretentious from the renowned Beverly Hills plastic surgeon.

She walked up the three stairs and pushed the doorbell, then heard footsteps just on the other side. Bracing herself to face Justin Flint again, she wasn’t prepared for the short, plump, fiftyish blonde woman who opened the door.

“I’m Sylvia Foster.”

“Emma Robbins,” she said, extending her hand.

“My replacement.” Blue eyes twinkled good-naturedly.

“That’s my hope, but I’m happy just to have a second interview.” Emma hadn’t expected it. The doctor had seemed distant after they’d shaken hands.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s desperate. I gave him an ultimatum and it wasn’t easy. Breaks my heart to leave this baby. But...”

“He told me your first grandchild is due soon.”

“A boy,” Sylvia revealed, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so torn. I’ll miss Kyle terribly, but my three children are in Southern California, not to mention a sister and brother. My whole family is there.”

A little voice chattered unintelligible sounds behind her and she turned. On the gorgeous dark-wood entryway floor was the doctor’s son, crawling toward the open door as fast as he could.

The older woman tsked, although there was no scolding in the sound. “Kyle Flint, just where do you think you’re going?”

She started to bend and grab him as he scooted by her with every intention of getting outside. Emma squatted on the porch side of the low threshold and looked up at the older woman.

“It took a lot of energy for him to make a break for it. Would it be okay if he comes out just for a minute? A little reward to encourage his sense of exploration?”

“I like the way you think.” Sylvia nodded and watched the baby touch the slats separating his protected world from the unknown beyond.

He sat and slapped it a few times before going on all fours again and venturing out. Turning wide eyes, his father’s gray eyes, on Emma, he took her measure. Just as the doctor had done.

“Hi, cutie.” She let him look, get used to her. Overwhelming him with verbal, visual and tactile stimuli could be disconcerting to the little guy.

After several moments, he crawled outside and over to her, putting a chubby hand on her thigh. Then he boosted himself to a standing position.

“He’s pretty steady,” she observed. “Is he walking yet?”

“Not quite,” Sylvia confirmed. “He’s a little hesitant to take that first step.”

Emma knew how he felt. She had a family here in Blackwater Lake that she hadn’t known about until just before her “mother” died. The woman had confessed to kidnapping Emma as an infant from people who lived in this town. Shock didn’t begin to express how she’d felt at hearing the words, and she was still struggling to wrap her head around it all.

This trip to Montana was about her own personal exploration. She’d been in town for three and a half weeks, checked out the diner that her biological parents owned and managed. But she hadn’t taken the next step of telling them who she was. Everything would change for them and there’d be no going back. She wasn’t sure turning their world upside down all over again was the right thing to do. Observation showed that they’d found some sort of peace, and learning the truth might not be for the best.

The little boy slapped her jeans-clad leg and grinned as he took steps while barely holding on.