The Nanny Proposal, page 6
After the young folks assured her that they understood, conversation resumed, though it was not as hearty as it had been before Miss O’Brien’s departure.
As they drove back to town, Micah brought up the woman’s unfortunate situation. “Can’t blame her for feeling rattled after a shock like she’s had,” he said.
“True enough,” Ezra agreed.
“You’re the one who’s spent the most time with her,” Micah said. “Was she shaken like this the whole time she was at the store?”
“Actually, no,” Ezra said after thinking about it for a minute. “I walked in while she was talking with Louie, and she seemed pretty at ease. Though I guess that makes sense, seeing as she was a nanny back in Boston. She’s likely used to being around children.”
“A nanny, eh? Say, that could work out real well for you, couldn’t it?”
“For me?” Ezra rolled his eyes. “Like I told Wyatt, I’m not marrying someone just to get a ma for Louie.”
Micah chuckled. “I wasn’t suggesting you do. I’m just saying that it sure seems like a nanny would solve your problem.”
Ezra heard a squawk behind them from where Louie was sitting, but the boy didn’t say anything as Ezra and Micah continued making casual conversation for the rest of the way back to town. After they dropped Micah off at the sheriff’s office, Louie climbed up to the front seat and sat next to Ezra, sulking.
“And what’s that pout for?” Ezra asked.
The boy shrugged and snuggled closer against Ezra as a brisk wind blew across them.
“I think I might know.” Ezra needed both hands to drive the horses or he would have slipped his arm around the boy for added warmth and comfort. “I think you heard what the sheriff said about Miss O’Brien becoming your nanny, and maybe you don’t want to be reined in. If you have someone keeping an eye on you, it means you and Archie can’t run off hither and yon all day. Is that it?”
When there was no response, Ezra glanced down. Even in the dark, he could see Louie’s eyes were closed, his long lashes brushing the tops of his plump cheeks. His shoulders moved up and down rhythmically. Ezra smiled. He’d always marveled at the way a child could sleep anywhere. Falling asleep against someone else meant complete trust. Peace that nothing would happen, that you could close your eyes and fade away without worry. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Not since his pa had passed away.
He only had fragments of memories of a man with twinkling eyes, a kind smile and a ready laugh. He remembered being thrown in the air and hugged so close he could barely breathe. And then he remembered emptiness and grief when that warm, loving presence was lost forever.
A month after his father died from pneumonia, Ezra and his ma were on a wagon train headed to Iowa. She had answered an advertisement to become a bride for Mr. Murphy, who was a shopkeeper in a prairie town called Tucker Springs. While his ma hadn’t had the same experience as Miss O’Brien, in that her fiancé had married her as promised, that didn’t mean her experience had been entirely good. Certainly, Mr. Murphy had been nothing like Ezra’s pa. Ezra supposed his sympathies for Miss O’Brien went beyond common decency. Perhaps he wondered what would have become of his ma and him had his stepfather not been, at least, a man of his word. Not to mention, his brother, John, would never have been born.
Ezra started as Louie stirred. “I just don’t want her,” Louie said. “I want my ma.” The words were more mumbled than truly said as the boy nodded off again, but they twisted Ezra’s heart all the same.
“You know that’s not possible, Louie,” he whispered, as much to himself as to the boy.
He thought about Marie. The child couldn’t possibly remember her, any more than he could remember his real pa, John, who had died at the end of the war. Ezra’s brother was the sort of man anyone would have wanted—as a father, brother, husband, friend. Ezra knew he could never hold a candle to him, but he had been determined to be the best father to Louie that he could. Even though Louie wasn’t his own son, from the moment the boy had come into his care, he’d been committed to treating him with nothing but love and kindness. Louie would not be raised with the harshness Ezra had experienced in his own childhood.
Perhaps he had gone too far in the other direction. Been too lenient. Well, that would have to stop. If he had a chance of appeasing the town and keeping his business, which would one day be Louie’s inheritance, he had to start getting better at disciplining the boy.
The sound of Miz Caroline’s voice echoed in his memory. “God always has a remedy. Even when it doesn’t look like He’s paying attention.”
“Well, Lord.” His voice sounded odd and intrusive as he spoke into the night. “I suppose You know what You’re doing. Just let me know, and I’ll follow Your lead.”
Chapter Four
Bleary-eyed after a night of tossing in his bed, Ezra arrived at the store with a bright and bounding Louie by his side and Archie trotting alongside the wagon. “Can I go on over to the café, Pa? I’m hungry.”
Ezra flushed, feeling guilty. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he had overslept. Wyatt had even awakened first and left by the time Ezra woke up. He’d had to rush through the chores and had been forced to leave home without feeding Louie breakfast. The smell of bacon and bread and whatever else they were cooking next door made his mouth water and his stomach growl. He didn’t blame the boy for wanting to head right over. He wished he could join him—but checking on the store had to come first. “Sure. Tell Miss Jennie I’ll be over in a bit. And ask Wyatt if you can sit at his table.”
Louie hopped down, and Archie jumped up and turned around on his hind legs. “Wait! Louie.” Ezra grabbed the rope from the back of the wagon and tossed it to the boy. “Tie Archie to the railing in front before you go inside.”
“Aw, Pa! He don’t want to get tied up.”
“It’s either that or you wait for me, and Archie runs off while we’re eating. Your choice.”
With a huff, Louie bent and looped the rope around Archie’s neck. Ezra could hear him speaking to the animal but couldn’t make out the words.
As he unlocked the door, the hairs on his arms stood on end as an unnamed instinct warned him that something was wrong. His mind traveled back to the sheriff’s warnings about thieves in the area. His gut tightened with dread. It was only logical that if other shops were going to be robbed, he would be next on the list. He glanced around the store. With a glance, he could see that shelves and displays had been disturbed. But he couldn’t tell if things were missing in the dimness of the room.
He took the cash out of the money box each night, so he knew if a thief did break in, they wouldn’t get any money. But as he checked, he saw that the box had been opened and tossed onto the floor. Thwarted from stealing cash, had the thief decided to go for something else? There were plenty of goods and wares that would bring a price. Ezra stopped short, his blood going cold, as he heard the back door creak open. Was the thief still in the store?
“Who’s there?” he yelled, then inwardly kicked himself. He wasn’t armed, and most likely a thief would be. The door slammed, he heard the sound of glass shattering and before he could even reach the storeroom, he heard a horse’s hooves speeding away. He ran to the door, but the intruder was gone, likely vanished through one of the trails in the woods.
Ezra glanced around, and his heart sank. Miss O’Brien’s trunk had been flung open and looked practically empty. He could see books and odds and ends of various items flung around the room.
How on earth was he going to tell the poor woman that she’d lost not only her intended groom but also most of her belongings?
“Oh, oh, oh. Oh no!”
Ezra turned sharply at the sounds of dismay and found himself looking straight at the victim of the latest crime. Miss O’Brien stared at the trunk, then at him. “I—can’t. Mr. Murphy, what happened?”
He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been the thief the sheriff warned us about last night.”
“Then...” She glanced over her shoulder. “But nothing is missing from the store, is it?”
“I’m not certain, but I don’t think so. Just some messiness.” He didn’t know what to say to soothe the poor woman. “I think I interrupted the thief in the process of rummaging through things.” His eyes traveled back to the flung-open trunk. “I suppose your belongings seemed more valuable—or more easily transportable—than my stock of canned goods and plows. I’m so sorry.”
She stumbled into the room, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s just...” With a heavy sigh, she sank into the old corner chair. “All of the gowns...they were gifts. Hand-me-downs from my former employer. Expensive dresses, in good condition. I was going to sell them once I got to Iowa City to pay for my return to Boston.”
“You don’t have passage back home?”
She shook her head, barely focused on him. “I wasn’t expecting to need passage, since this was supposed to be my new home.” She stood and began picking up the books and other items the thief had deemed unworthy of taking. She placed them carefully in the trunk. He wanted to help but sensed she would rather do it herself so as to assess what was left.
Suddenly she gasped and crossed to the back door. She got down on her knees near some broken pieces of green glass. She covered her face with her hands, and he could see her shoulders rising and falling in silent sobs. He stood in respectful silence. Whatever the thief had dropped at the door was obviously more important to her than the dresses or the money they would bring.
She stood, and he could see her wiping tears away. When she turned, her expression was resolute. She lifted her chin. “If you will fetch the broom, I will sweep up the broken glass.”
He shook his head and crossed the room. “I can get it.” He glanced down at the floor. “This meant a lot to you?”
She nodded. “Yes. It is—was—a trinket box. It belonged to my mother and...” Her eyes filled again and she averted her gaze.
Ezra touched her shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ll get this cleaned up.” The trinket box had broken into six pieces that were all big enough to pick up in his hands. He quickly scooped them up.
She turned away and retrieved an apron from the floor. “Well, at least they left this. It’s what I was coming for. I finally convinced Miz Caroline and Jennie to let me help in the kitchen of the café today to show my gratitude for their hospitality.” She slipped the apron over her head and tied the strings behind her back. “There’s nothing I can do about this theft, but I can keep my word. The café is getting busy.”
“I’ll walk you over, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure no one is going to try to rob me in broad daylight between here and the café, but I appreciate it.” He could tell she was making a concentrated effort to shrug off the pain the thief had caused.
Ezra smiled. “I don’t open the store this early, anyway. I usually eat breakfast at the café. After you finish helping the Averys, I can accompany you to the sheriff’s office.”
She gasped. “The sheriff?”
“So that we can both report the theft.”
“O-oh, of course.” She shuddered. “That won’t be necessary. The sheriff is having breakfast with Wyatt Avery.”
Wyatt, seated with Micah, spotted them as they walked inside and waved Ezra over. Ezra took Miss O’Brien by her elbow and escorted her, surprised to feel her tense as they drew closer to the table.
“I really should go back to the kitchen and help Miz Caroline,” she protested. “I’m sure you can tell the sheriff about my trunk.”
For the second time in two days, Ezra had the feeling that Miss O’Brien wanted to avoid Micah. “The sheriff will want a description of what’s missing so he can tell the other small towns around here to be on the lookout. A thief is likely going to sell those stolen items.”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” He could see the hesitation in her eyes, but she complied, allowing him to escort her to the table. With halting words, she explained what had been taken, and the two of them answered the sheriff’s questions as best they could before Miss O’Brien excused herself and went to help in the kitchen.
He couldn’t help but admire how quickly she adapted to the hustle and bustle of the café. By the time he and the others had finished their food, the breakfast rush had tapered off. He watched Miss O’Brien take her apron off and say something to the other women. He excused himself, then made his way over to Miss O’Brien. “Are you going somewhere?”
She spun around. “I must send a telegram back East.”
Ezra’s heart jumped into his throat. Sending a telegram likely meant she would be contacting her old employer to ask for her job back. Or perhaps she’d ask that employer or some other friend to lend her the money to pay for her passage, since she no longer had the dresses she’d intended to sell. Either way, a telegram back East signaled that she was moving forward with her plans to return—and Ezra didn’t want that to happen. The more he’d thought about Micah’s words the previous night, the more they’d made sense to him. Hiring Miss O’Brien to be Louie’s nanny could be the answer to his troubles...if he could convince her to accept.
“I’d be pleased to escort you, if you have no objection,” he blurted out. He didn’t want to make his offer in front of everyone in the café. Bringing it up during the walk would feel more natural. Besides, she didn’t know her way around and would probably appreciate the escort.
“Oh, but what about the store?”
Across the café, he caught his friend’s eye and gestured toward the store. Wyatt nodded, and Ezra knew the message had been received. “Wyatt is going to open for me. He’s done it before.” No one would mind if Wyatt’s carpentry shop opened a little late. Everyone in town would know to look for him at the general store or the café if he wasn’t in his shop, anyway.
She smiled and nodded. “Then if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience, I’d appreciate having a guide.” There was no doubting the relief washing over her face. “Not to mention, I would prefer not to walk alone.”
Ezra turned to Louie, unsure if he should make the boy walk with them so he could keep an eye on him or instruct him to stay put. Louie hadn’t seemed pleased with the idea of Miss O’Brien as his nanny, and Ezra didn’t want him saying anything to put her off the idea while he made his offer. On the other hand, if he left the boy behind and Louie got into mischief again, that might make Miss O’Brien withdraw her agreement.
With a wry grin, Miz Caroline waved both of her hands toward Ezra and Miss O’Brien. “You two go on. Louie will be here with me when you’re done at the telegraph office.” She pinned the boy with a motherly gaze. “Won’t you, Louie?”
Louie shrugged. “I reckon I don’t got a choice.”
With everything arranged, Ezra escorted Miss O’Brien out of the café and onto the boardwalk. “What will you do now that there is not a reason for you to stay on in Tucker Springs?” Ezra felt his palms growing damp as he shored up his courage.
She took in her bottom lip between her teeth, then let go and shrugged. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I hope my former employer will be able to recommend me for another position, perhaps with one of her friends.”
They had reached the end of the boardwalk and stepped down. The post office and telegraph shared a building just across the street. Several boards were stretched out in the street to aid in walking, of course, but mainly so wagons didn’t get bogged down. Ezra took Miss O’Brien’s elbow to help steady her. “Miss O’Brien, may I ask another question that might seem intrusive?”
“You may ask, Mr. Murphy.” Her eyes glinted with amusement as she allowed him to support her across the wobbly, uneven boards. “But as to whether or not I will answer your question, well, that remains to be seen.”
“Fair enough.”
Together, they ascended the two shallow steps to the boardwalk in front of the post office and stepped into the building, the closed door providing some respite from the bustle of the street. No one was behind the counter—Frank must have stepped away.
Ezra’s heart picked up a little as he tried to formulate the words in his mind. The question would have to be asked before she sent her telegram back to Boston. Which meant he could delay no longer.
He turned to face her and looked down into her large, wide green eyes.
“I know you came here to marry Ben. And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out for you.” He raked his fingers through his thick hair and rested his hand against the back of his neck.
Her cheeks grew pink, and though Ezra hated to embarrass her, he found it difficult to look away. She was a very fetching woman.
“Mr. Murphy,” she said, looking him square in the eye, “to be honest, I’ve decided to put all of that behind me. When the stagecoach returns, I’ll head back to Boston and get on with my life. The events of the past few days will just be a chapter that is closed.”
“I can’t say I blame you. But I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about returning when you hear what I have to ask you.”
Her brow creased into a frown, and something like horror filled those pretty eyes of hers. Ezra realized, too late, what she thought he was going to ask her. He shook his head. “Oh, I—”
Frank Bauer came bustling through the curtain hanging from the doorway into the back. “I am sorry to haf keep you waiting. That bell is not working again.”
“It’s fine.”
The postmaster’s gaze rested curiously on Miss O’Brien. “You, I have only heard about. I am sorry for your troubles in our town.”
