Elizabeth August - Truly, Madly, Deeply

Judd motioned for her to precede him into the living room. “Before I take you into the kitchen and introduce you to my family, I have a few questions.” He waved toward a chair, indicating he wanted her to be seated.

Knowing that if she sat and allowed him to tower over her that would give him the advantage, Minerva chose to remain standing. She was determined to let him know from the start that she would not allow him to run roughshod over her. “And what would those be?”

“I want to know why you accepted this position.”

“Because I needed a job,” she answered honestly.

He scowled darkly. “My children are not merely a job.”

Maybe she had been a bit too blunt, Minerva decided. “I have never considered working with any child just a job. I like children.”

Judd continued to scowl but his anger lessened. “I’m glad to hear that.”

His intimidating manner was stretching her nerves to the breaking point. Unexpectedly she heard herself saying aloud what was going through her mind. “I am a little uncertain about accepting this position since you have gone through so many applicants.”

“I suppose that’s a legitimate concern.” His gaze hardened even more. “I want someone who cares about my children... who is willing to spend quality time with them. And the hours are long. You will be required to be on call twenty-four hours a day, six days a week. You will have Sundays off. In return, I will pay you very well. Do you think you can handle that?”

He was right about the pay. It was very good. Besides what choice did she have? “I’m willing to give it a try.”

His jaw still set in a grim line, he waved her to follow him. “Come along then.”

The sound of a child suddenly beginning to cry caused him to increase his gait to a run.

Minerva followed close on his heels. Entering the kitchen, she saw a woman, slightly on the chubby side with graying hair, fussing over the three children who looked to be the same age. A fourth child, clearly older than the others, with dark brown hair and eyes like his father was shaking his head in an adult fashion while mopping up a bowl of spilled cereal from the floor.

Seeing his father, the crying child stopped in midsob. “Joannie.” He pointed a stubby finger accusingly at one of the chestnut-haired children. “Her fault.”

“The two of them got into a grabbing match over the strawberries.” Lucy nodded toward a bowl of fresh strawberries on the table. “The cereal getting knocked off was an accident.”

Recalling her own father’s usual reaction to anything disturbing the peace of his world, Minerva braced herself, expecting Judd Graham to fly into an angry rage.

“Strawberries are healthy. Tomorrow we’ll put two bowls out,” he said, squatting down to take over cleaning the floor. Giving the older boy a grateful wink, he added, “Go finish your breakfast.”

Minerva stood stunned. She’d been certain he was the fly-into-a-rage type.

“Are you our new nanny?” the older boy asked as he returned to his seat.

Realizing she was the one being spoken to, Minerva jerked her gaze away from the man wiping up the floor to find herself being scrutinized with the same grim expression the father had met her with at the door. “Yes. And you are John, I resume,” she said, recalling the names she’d memorized from the list given her.

He nodded, then pointed toward the two chestnut-haired, green-eyed children. “That’s Joan and Judy. They’re identical.” He turned his attention toward the dark-haired, dark-eyed cherub who had stopped crying and was eating a strawberry. “And that’s Henry. He’s their triplet but he’s not identical.”

“And I’m Lucy Osmer, the housekeeper.” The woman who’d been soothing the boy held out her hand to Minerva. “And am I glad to see you. As much as I love this passel they’re a handful even for two people.”

“They look healthy and energetic.” Minerva conceded, accepting the handshake while guessing she was going to earn every cent of her pay.

“That they are.”

Judd had finished with the floor. He glanced at his watch, then turned to his eldest. “It’s time for us to get going.”

John frowned dubiously. “Maybe I should stay home today and help the new nanny get used to us. The triplets can be difficult. I’ve heard you and Lucy say so many times.”

Minerva’s heart went out to him. He acted and sounded so adult. His mother’s desertion had clearly robbed him of at least a portion of his childhood.

“We’ll do just fine on our own,” Lucy said. “You run along to school. And we’ll see you at two-thirty.”

As he and his father exited the kitchen, Minerva saw John glance back at her. There was worry and distrust in his eyes. “He seems to be afraid I’m some kind of monster,” she said in lowered tones to Lucy. “Did they have a nanny who was cruel to them?”

“No.” Lucy smiled. “He’s just a bit overly protective of his brother and sisters. How about if we get these three cleaned up, and then I’ll show you your room.”

Or maybe both she and Lucy were reading the boy wrong, Minerva mused. Maybe the worry and distrust had nothing to do with the triplets. Maybe he wanted his mother back and saw every new nanny as an interloper whose presence was a reminder that his mother wasn’t coming back.

Chapter Two

Minerva had never been so exhausted. Every muscle screamed at the thought of getting up out of the chair in the living room into which she’d collapsed after getting the triplets down for their afternoon rest. All morning she’d chased after them, played with them, soothed them and read to them. After lunch, she played with them some more, then everyone, including Lucy, had walked to the local elementary school where John attended kindergarten to meet him and walk him home.

Now he was playing within her view with his trucks on the wide slate area fronting the house. Seeing him glance toward the living-room window, she recalled how he’d hovered behind her the whole time she was putting the triplets down for their nap. It was clear to her now that the anxiousness she’d read on his face had been for his brother and sisters. His overt guardianship of them had begun when they’d met him at school.

“Did you have a good morning?” he’d asked them immediately.

They’d all giggled and nodded.

Certain she detected a sense of relief in him, Minerva again considered the possibility that one of the nannies had not been as kind to the children as the housekeeper had thought. Hoping to reassure him that she was to be trusted, she’d given him a friendly smile.

He had not returned her smile, letting her know she was still on trial.

Deciding that only time would convince the eldest of Judd Graham’s sons that she was safe to have around, Minerva forced her tired body out of the chair. This might be the only chance before dark that she would have to unload her car.

Still parked in front of the house, she decided to leave it where it was while she retrieved her things. That way she would be passing John constantly, thus allowing her to keep track of him. Several times today, the housekeeper had told her how responsible John was—“More like a little adult than a child” had been Lucy’s words. But Minerva didn’t want to take any chances. It was always possible that he might suddenly revert to childlike behavior and wander off.

Pausing beside him, she said, “I’m going to unpack my things. I’d like your word that you won’t go anywhere without telling me first.”

He looked up at her. “I won’t.”

She smiled her approval and continued to her car.

When she returned for a second load, she found him standing waiting for her. “Can I help?” he offered, brushing off his hands on his jeans to rid them of excess dirt.