Small-Town Nanny by Lee Tobin McClain Page A

her.
    But the moment Mindy ventured away from the edge of the pool, LouAnn pushed herself to her feet and walked over to stand nearby.
    â€œSee what I can do!” Mindy crowed as she swam a little, her stroke awkward. She had an adaptive flotation device for her arm, but she didn’t like to use it.
    â€œTry kicking more with your feet, honey,” LouAnn said. “If you get tired, you can flip over to your back.”
    â€œShow me how?”
    â€œSure.” Lou Ann shrugged out of her terrycloth cover-up, tossed it back toward the table and walked down the steps into the water, barely touching the railing. She wore a violet tank suit and her short hair didn’t seem to require a swim cap.
    Glad he hadn’t interfered and satisfied with Lou Ann’s abilities as a caregiver and swim instructor, Sam strode toward the house. He hoped Susan wouldn’t take long to get settled and come down. The sooner they established her duties, the sooner things could go back to normal.
    * * *
    He’d just finished a sandwich when there was a tap on the back door.
    â€œYou ready for me?” Susan asked, poking her head inside. “Am I supposed to knock or just come in? I really don’t know how to be a nanny.”
    â€œJust come in.” If he needed privacy, there was the whole upstairs. “I’m ready. Let me give you a quick tour so you know where things are.”
    â€œGreat.” She was looking around the kitchen. “Is this where you spend most of your time?”
    He nodded. “It’s a mess. Sorry. My cleaning people come on Mondays.”
    â€œYou call this a mess?” She laughed. “I can barely tell you have a kid.”
    â€œMindy’s pretty neat. Me, I have to restrain my inner slob. Plus, Lou Ann Miller’s been helping me until I find...well, until I found you. She’s a whiz at cooking and cleaning.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you just hire her?” Susan asked as he led her into the living room.
    â€œShe doesn’t want a permanent job. Says she’s too old, though I don’t see much evidence of her slowing down. This is where we...where I...well, where we used to entertain a lot.” The room had been Marie’s pride and joy, but Sam and Mindy didn’t use it much, and he realized that, without a party full of people in it, the place looked like a museum.
    Susan didn’t comment on the living room nor the dining room with its polished cherry table and Queen Anne chairs. He swept her past the closed-off sunroom, of course. When they got to Mindy’s playroom, Susan perked up. “This is nice!”
    She walked over to inspect the play kitchen and peeked into the dollhouse. “What wonderful toys,” she said almost wistfully. She looked at the easel and smiled approvingly at the train set. “Good, you’re not being sexist. I see you got her some cars, too.”
    â€œThose are partly for my sake,” he admitted. “I go nuts after too many games with dolls.”
    â€œMe, too.” She walked over to perch on the window seat, crossing her arms as she surveyed the playroom. “It’s a big place for one little girl.”
    A familiar ache squeezed Sam’s chest. “We were going to fill it up with kids.” He stared out the window and down the green lawn. “But plans don’t always work out.”
    When he looked back at her, she was watching him with a thoughtful expression on her face. “That must be hard to deal with.”
    He acknowledged the sympathy with a nod. “We’re managing.”
    â€œDo you ever think of moving?”
    â€œNo!” In truth, he had. He’d longed to move, but it wouldn’t be fair to Marie’s memory. She’d wanted him to continue on as they’d begun, to create the life they’d imagined together for Mindy. “We’re fine here,” he said firmly.
    She arched one delicate brow. “Well, okay