One last chance

Unemployed and with no place to live, Stephanie Cartwright answers an online classified ad. The nanny job in small-town Serendipity, Texas, will give her a chance to start over. And she’ll be helping out teacher Drew Spencer, who desperately needs someone to watch his three-year-old twin boys. He knows better than anyone that his boys can be a handful—so he makes the offer on a short-term basis. Soon this big-city girl is charming both troublesome twins—and their handsome country dad. But can this temporary bond turn into a permanent promise?

“Nice to have a woman in the house,” Drew’s father commented, loud enough for the neighbors in the next county to hear.

Drew cringed. Did the old man even think about how Stephanie might feel when he put her on the spot that way?

She didn’t seem to have a problem with it. She chuckled and flipped the last pancake onto a plate. “I’m certainly outnumbered here, girls to boys,” she said, setting the platter of pancakes in the middle of the circular oak table and tickling Matty on the ear.

The boy squealed and wiggled.

“Me, too,” Jamey insisted.

Stephanie moved around the table and leaned around Drew so she could tickle both boys at once. “It’s a good thing I have two hands.”

Drew closed his eyes, trying not to breathe, because if he did, the oriental scent of her perfume was going to get to him. He was sure of it. He’d always been a sucker for orchids and jasmine…and now, beautiful Stephanie, whom his boys liked as much as he did.

DEB KASTNER

lives and writes in colorful Colorado with the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains for inspiration. She loves writing for Love Inspired Books, where she can write about her two favorite things—faith and love. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and broody heroes. Her plots fall anywhere in between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional. Deb’s books have been twice nominated for the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Book of the Year for Love Inspired. Deb and her husband share their home with their two youngest daughters. Deb is thrilled about the newest member of the family—her first granddaughter, Isabella. What fun to be a granny! Deb loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her by email at Debwrtr@aol.com, or on her MySpace or Facebook pages.

The Nanny’s Twin Blessings

Deb Kastner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

—Jeremiah 29:11

As always, to my family—

Joe, Annie, Kimberly, Katie, Isabella and Anthony. Without your support, there wouldn’t be a book.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Prologue

PARENTS OF PRESCHOOLERS ONLINE COMMUNITY

CLASSIFIED ADS

WANTED: Nanny for three-year-old twin boys. Two-month temporary live-in position includes stipend, room and board. Assistance in relocation to Serendipity, Texas, provided. Mandatory two years’ experience with references. Please respond with resume and salary requirements.

Chapter One

Stephanie Cartwright would have described the Texas prairie in early spring in two words: dry and barren. Endless miles of dirt, rolling hills of dry grass and dark, skeletal weeds, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

The land was a mirror of her heart. Or maybe it was her frame of mind that was coloring the landscape in dreary shades of gray. As if that wasn’t enough, she exited her subcompact rental car to find her nostrils angrily assaulted by a strange, pungent odor—no doubt the scent of cows or horses or other livestock.

Did it smell like this all the time? She hoped it was just the direction of the wind adding to the eye-watering stench in the air, because for better or for worse, Serendipity, Texas, was where she’d be living for the next couple of months. As far away from the east coast—and her ex-boyfriend—as she could get. Hidden from the world in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.

And way, way out of her comfort zone.

But it wasn’t as if she could turn around and go back home. There was no home to go back to. Trying not to breathe too deeply, she clenched her fists and fought for control as her feelings once again vacillated between devastation and anger. At any given moment since she’d boarded the plane for Texas, she had struggled with one of those emotions, sometimes both at the same time.

Her eyes widened as a large, square-headed and very intimidating dog wandered up and situated himself on the wood-planked porch steps to the house where her new employer, Drew Spencer, presumably waited.

Peachy. Another obstacle. Just what she needed… .

Stephanie was a nanny. She’d expected to be greeted by children, not canines. She had little experience with animals and had never even owned a pet.

The dog shook his head and licked his chops. He appeared to be welcoming her, though she couldn’t be certain. For all she knew he was putting her on the menu.

“Hello there, big guy,” Stephanie crooned, speaking in the same soft, gentle tone of voice she used to calm small children. She prayed it would work. “Nice puppy.”

The dog’s ears pricked. His mouth curved up naturally, as if he was smiling at her, and he wagged his tail with unreserved enthusiasm. Was that a good sign?

“Don’t worry. He’s harmless.” Warm laughter emanated from behind the screen door, startling her.

If she wasn’t a twenty-three-year-old woman in perfect health, she probably would have thought she was experiencing a heart attack. Every nerve ending in her body crackled with an unexpected jolt of electricity. She hadn’t realized someone was watching her, and her face flamed in embarrassment.

A man who quickly introduced himself as Drew Spencer opened the screen and stepped out onto the porch. “Sorry about that. The four-legged Welcome Wagon that greeted you is Quincy, the over-enthusiastic pit bull. I should have put him in the house.”

“He’s very…friendly.” Stephanie straightened her shoulders and curled her lips into what she hoped was an inviting smile.

“Very,” Drew agreed, chuckling. “He may look like a tough old watchdog, but Quincy is as harmless as they come. If you were a robber he’d invite you into the house and show you where the silver was.”

“I’m more interested in your gold,” she teased as her gaze locked with Drew’s intelligent but darkly shadowed green eyes.

Her breath caught. It was as if the scene had suddenly gone from black-and-white to a rainbow of color. To put it bluntly, the guy was one tall drink of water.

Which is to say, he was nothing like she’d imagined him to be.

In the emails they’d exchanged, Drew had seemed staid, rigid and academic—at least on paper. Even the times they’d spoken on the telephone, she’d thought his voice was dull and lackluster, with little emotion or variation in his tone. Somehow she’d imagined he looked the way he sounded.

The man standing in front of her, however, wasn’t anything like her mental picture.

Uh-uh. Not even close.

He was wearing a pair of worn but polished brown cowboy boots, crisp blue jeans, a navy button-down dress shirt and a loosely knotted burgundy-colored necktie. He had strong-boned, even facial features, and thick brown hair lightly brushed his forehead. He looked as if he’d be as comfortable on a horse as he was in the classroom. All that was missing was the cowboy hat, and Stephanie had a good notion that he owned one.

There were no dark-rimmed, pop-bottle-thick glasses. No nerdy slouch or nutty-professor grin. Just a long, lean and fantastic-looking elementary school teacher in the guise of a cowboy.

She shook herself mentally, thoroughly appalled at where her thoughts had gone. What difference did it make whether her employer was a gorgeous cowboy or a geeky academic? She was here solely to watch over his children, not to gawk at him, and she knew how important first impressions were.

Specifically, his first impression of her.

She’d intended to appear poised and confident when she met Drew face-to-face for the first time. Not that she generally felt composed or self-assured—but she was good at faking it.

Widening her smile, she extended her hand. For a moment, Drew just stared at it as if he didn’t know how to finish the gesture. The left corner of his mouth curved up, then down and then into a tight, straight line that matched the unyielding right side of his lips.

Stephanie nearly pulled back her arm. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Had she botched things already?

Waves of relief washed over her when he finally reached out to shake her hand. His firm, steady grip reassured her, as did the way his mouth finally relaxed, his lips bowing upward in what could almost be considered a smile.

A tow-headed young boy peeked around Drew’s leg and sized Stephanie up with a thoughtful stare. She paused, observing the child and allowing him a moment to adjust to her presence before she introduced herself to him. Presumably he was one of her two future charges, and he was a real cutie-pie, with large blue eyes and trim white-blond hair combed over to one side like a miniature Cary Grant.

Stephanie immediately relaxed. Her senses had been jarred by both the dog and the man, but kids she could handle. She was comfortable with the little ones.

She was one of the lucky ones who’d found out early what she wanted to do with her life—care for children, whether it was as a babysitter for her younger foster brothers and sisters, in her first official job as a superintendent at a bounce house or as a nanny for a high-society family. As long as there were children, she was happy.

Eventually she wanted to teach in a preschool and had already gotten her degree in early childhood education, but she had not yet pursued her teacher’s certification. For now, she was content being a nanny.

“Who are you?” the three-year-old asked bluntly.

Drew coughed into his hand but she could see he was covering a smile. His eyes lightened for a moment, sparkling with barely concealed laughter. She arched an eyebrow at him, amused at how valiantly he tried to keep a straight face at the nerve of his precocious offspring.

She struggled not to giggle, herself. It was funny. She was glad Drew hadn’t corrected the boy on her behalf, as many of her foster parents over the years would have done when their children had misspoken. The child’s question was direct, but it was equally as innocent.

Leave it to a three-year-old to get right to the point of the matter.

Stephanie didn’t mind. She was used to the straightforward, curious nature of children. She much preferred it, in fact, versus lying, deceitful adults. At least kids were honest.

With a smile, she crouched down to the boy’s level, looking him straight in the eye to let him know she was taking him—and his question—seriously.

“My name is Miss Stephanie,” she answered earnestly. “And I’m happy to meet you—”

She hesitated, glancing up toward the door, seeking Drew’s input on the little boy’s name, since she knew she’d be caring for identical twins. Instead, the answer came from a gruff, guttural voice from somewhere behind Drew’s right shoulder.

“His name is Matty.” Using his cane for leverage, an older, scruffy-faced gentleman Stephanie presumed must be Drew’s father inched around him. “He’s the bold one. And this sweet little guy,” he continued, gesturing toward the child cuddling in his arms with his face tucked shyly into the old man’s chest, “is Jamey.”

As far as Stephanie could see, the twins were completely identical in looks, but she had no doubt she’d be able to tell them apart once she’d spent some time with them. There were bound to be differences in personality, if not tiny distinctions in their looks.

“Hello there, Matty and Jamey,” Stephanie responded as she stood upright. “How are you fellows doing today?”

Jamey curiously peeked out at Stephanie, and Matty laughed and ran around the old man’s legs.

“I figure you already know that the rude fellow blocking the doorway and not inviting you inside the house is my son, Drew,” the old man continued. “Although most everyone in town calls him Spence, on account of our last name.” He grunted noncommittally. “And I, my dear, am Frank. Please come in.”

Drew’s father winked and flashed an engaging grin, then set little Jamey on his feet and ushered both boys through the door. Quincy the pit bull stood up, stretched lazily and followed the twins inside.

Drew hesitated a moment, the corners of his lips once again curving down as his brow furrowed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, looking a great deal more like the staid, solemn school teacher Stephanie had initially imagined him to be. Something was definitely bothering him, and she wondered if it had anything to do with her. Why else would he be smiling one minute and frowning the next?

Her apprehension hung almost palpably in the air, on her part, if not on his. He certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Perhaps she wasn’t what he’d anticipated, either. Maybe he was wondering how to gently let her down, to send her packing again. But Drew obviously had some serious motivation in bringing her here to take care of his twins, something beyond what they’d discussed when she’d interviewed for the position.

She had no clue why he had decided to look so far out of town to find someone to watch his children, and it was one of the first questions she planned to ask him when the opportunity presented itself. Granted, Serendipity was tiny, but it was hard to imagine there were no adequate forms of child care Drew could call upon in a pinch. At the very least, there must be a few teenagers who would be vying to earn a little extra spending money.

So why her?

It was a fair question, and one that she eventually meant to get to the bottom of, but in the end, she realized it didn’t matter to her all that much what his motivations were. The point of the matter was that she was here now, and this man had unknowingly offered her a way out of a really bad situation. He’d given her a place to hide from a spoiled, abusive boyfriend who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Drew Spencer’s offer to hire her as a live-in nanny from now until the end of the school year was truly an answer to prayer—two months to heal her heart and get back on her feet, to give herself a fresh start.

It wasn’t enough that her ex-boyfriend Ryan had torn her heart to shreds—he’d also ripped her home and her job right out from under her. She’d naively given up everything for him, only to find out he was playing her.

She was proud of herself for finding the self-esteem to walk away from a toxic relationship, but that didn’t stop her from being a little bit anxious about the way it had ended—Ryan was used to getting his own way, and he was frighteningly possessive. He’d alienated her from everyone else in her life, wanting her all to himself—even though he never had any intention of putting a ring on her finger.

How could she help but look over her shoulder, even knowing she was far away from New Jersey? Ryan had threatened to come after her, and he had power and money behind him to do it. She hoped she’d done enough to keep herself safe.

She needed somewhere secluded and private to regroup and refocus her life, to make plans for her future, though at the moment, she had no idea what that would be—other than finding more permanent housing and a stable job.

In the meantime, Serendipity was a good place to hide.

* * *

Drew wasn’t overly keen on having a nanny living in his house and getting under his feet. He was already so busy he barely had time to breathe, and he didn’t need the added complication of having someone in the way, especially a beautiful woman who smelled like orchids and jasmine.

Unfortunately, he had little choice in the matter. Drew was working off the advice of his lawyer, who had strongly suggested he get someone to watch his boys full-time until the end of the school year, particularly since the custody mediation with his ex-wife wasn’t progressing well. His lawyer had called it making a good faith effort to show he was taking care of the boys.

It had better be good. It was costing Drew a good part of his pension plan. And it was causing him a great deal of stress.

Heather had recently been making all kinds of verbal threats about taking the boys away from him, and though none of them had yet come to fruition, Drew still felt as if she was holding him hostage where the kids were concerned.

He knew full well that Heather didn’t have any intention of shouldering the responsibility of raising children. She probably planned to pawn them off on her parents, or worse yet, whatever boyfriend she was living with.

Drew’s gut felt as if it was filled with molten lead, as it always did when he thought about the callous way Heather had left him—and even worse, how she had abandoned the twins. He prayed he could eventually find forgiveness in his heart for her, but he was human, and forgiveness was a long way off, especially now that she was locking him in a battle for custody of the children.

For Heather, this wasn’t about what was best for Matty and Jamey. She was only interested in hitting Drew where it hurt. He couldn’t even imagine life without the twins. He would have no life without his sons.

And Heather knew it.

“Which name should I call you?”

Stephanie’s golden voice slowly penetrated into his thoughts. She flashed him a dazzling smile that exposed both rows of straight, white teeth. “Do you have a preference?”

“I’m sorry?” he asked. His eyebrows rose in confusion as he was mentally jerked into the present.

“Shall I call you Drew or Spence? Your dad said the folks in town call you Spence.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. No…Drew is fine.”

He didn’t know why he was stammering, and he certainly had no clue why he’d just given her the answer he had. Only members of his immediate family called him Drew. The words had just slipped out before he’d had a chance to think about what he was saying, but he didn’t correct himself. As a live-in nanny, Stephanie was going to be a part of the family for a while, even if she was everything he didn’t want in a nanny.

Not outwardly, anyway.

What had happened to the peculiar cross between Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee that he’d been expecting to show up at his door? Instead, Stephanie had soft, delicate features, high cheekbones, a pretty smile, wave upon wave of sun-drenched, fair hair and warm brown eyes that a man could easily get lost in.

He didn’t feel like it sometimes, but he was still a living, breathing man. He was going to trip over Stephanie’s beauty every time he looked at her. He’d erroneously assumed, from her upside-down umbrella avatar on the Parents of Preschoolers classified board that she’d be…

Plain?

Homely?

Truth be told, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, only that the woman still waiting on his doorstep was not it.

Emphasis on waiting. On his doorstep. He ought to kick himself for his discourtesy.

Stepping aside, he gestured for her to go in ahead of him. He averted his gaze from her female sway, but he was unable to keep himself from inhaling the rich oriental fragrance that wafted over him as she swept by. She smelled every bit as good as she looked, which really wasn’t helping matters any. He was uncomfortable enough as it was.

There was no sign of his father, but the twins were huddled around the toy box in the living room. They already had several trucks and trains on the floor and were reaching for more.

“One toy at a time, boys,” Drew reminded them. “Remember our rule.” His gaze shifted to Stephanie. “I tidy up this place at least five times a day, and there are still toys scattered everywhere. They haven’t quite mastered the one-at-a-time rule yet, and they’re easily distracted.”

Stephanie chuckled lightly. “Comes with the territory. I don’t mind at all. Preschoolers and messy go together like butter on toast.”

“Right,” he agreed, noting that her expression softened and her shoulders lost their stiffness when her attention was directed at the children.

Offering Stephanie a seat on the couch, Drew positioned himself on the antique chair near the fireplace. Seconds later, Jamey slipped onto his lap and Matty climbed up his back, wrapping his little arms around Drew’s neck and practically choking him in the process.

Or was it was Stephanie’s smile that was making his throat close so forcefully?

“Have you had dinner? I can make you a sandwich if you like.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted with the hint of a smile.

“Coffee, then?”

She shook her head, and the conversation drifted to a standstill.

Less than a minute passed before Matty’s curiosity got the best of him. The small boy crawled off Drew’s back and launched himself at Stephanie, who caught him with a laugh and tucked him next to her on the couch, under her arm. There was a toy airplane in reaching distance, and Stephanie grabbed it, giving it to Matty complete with a vroom sound.

To Drew’s surprise, Jamey crawled off his lap and settled up on Stephanie’s knee, his thumb tucked in his mouth, a habit Drew hadn’t yet been able to break him out of.

Incredible.

Drew had never seen Jamey cozy up to a person as quickly as he had to Stephanie. It was as if she’d earned the boys’ respect the very first time she smiled. She tickled the boys on the ears and they both squealed with laughter.

“These little men are absolutely darling,” Stephanie said, giggling along with the twins. Her eyes were shining, lighting up her whole countenance. She was definitely in her element with the children.

“They’re a handful,” Drew countered teasingly, though he spoke the truth. He was unable to stop himself from grinning, despite his misgivings about the situation.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I love children. I’m happy to be here.”

Drew could see that, and he could sense it, too. She had become immediately attached to his kids, and they clearly liked her. He would be foolish to put her off just because she didn’t look like the nanny he’d pictured in his head. It was what was inside a person’s soul that really counted—like seeing the way his kids had instantly warmed up to her and instinctively trusted her. That spoke volumes about her, in Drew’s mind. Kids had a way of perceiving things about people that weren’t so obvious when seen through an adult’s eyes.

His father picked that moment to hobble across the hallway behind Stephanie. He paused and gave Drew two thumbs-up, grinning and wagging his bushy gray eyebrows for emphasis.

Apparently he approved of her—which was an absolutely frightening thought. Whoops. Drew hadn’t thought of that particular ramification of hiring Stephanie. Pop wasn’t viewing her as a nanny for his grandsons, but as a potential future wife for his son. Drew had seen the impish light in his father’s eyes before, and it never boded well.

He couldn’t imagine how ghastly it would be once his father put his head together with his best lady friend and cohort in mischief, Jo Murphy, the gregarious owner of the Cup O’ Jo Café and the town’s chief matchmaker.

Nanny or not, his pop and Jo Murphy would see romance where there was none. Before he knew it, they would be pestering him half to death. Stephanie, too, for that matter, and she certainly hadn’t signed on for that.

“I hope my father won’t be too problematic for you,” Drew said. “The twins love the gruff old guy, but the simple fact of the matter is that he is getting up in years and he can’t do everything he thinks he can. He doesn’t require any special physical care or anything. For his age, he’s as fit as a fiddle. But he has a tendency to involve himself in matters that don’t concern him. You may want to keep your eye out for him so he doesn’t cause you any trouble.”

He paused and chuckled, but it was a dry, nervous sound rather than a happy one. “Have I overwhelmed you yet? Made you change your mind about working here? I’m sure you’re ready to turn right around and hop on the next plane back to the east coast.”

“I think I can handle your father,” she assured him. “How ornery can one man be?”

“You would be surprised.” Drew cocked his head and twisted his lips in amusement. “He’s going to be in your way. Constantly. And he has an opinion about everything.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Maybe, but my father is especially blustery when he gets into one of his moods. Which is often. Just so you know.”

“Not a problem,” she assured him. “I tend to get along with everybody.”

Somehow, he believed she did.

“Boys,” he stated firmly, addressing the twins, both of whom by that time were using Stephanie as playground equipment, swinging over her shoulders and sliding down her legs—not that she appeared to mind. The crystal-clear sound of her feminine laughter laced the air like stardust.

Drew gestured toward the hall. “Why don’t you two run along now and get ready for bed? I think Pop-Pop is waiting for you. I’ll be there in a minute to read another chapter of our story to you.”

At least that would keep his father occupied for a while, getting the two squirming, over-excited preschoolers into pajamas and tucked into bed. Drew ruffled their fair hair and kissed each of his boys softly on the forehead before urging them to the back hallway where their room was located.

“Sorry about the interruption,” Drew said once he’d herded the twins down the hall. “Bedtime is a real zoo around here.”

He returned to his seat and braced his elbows on his knees, ignoring the quivering sensation in his stomach as their eyes met.

He cleared his throat, wondering how to start the conversation. There was a lot she needed to know about why she was here, issues he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing over the phone, but that she ought to be aware of if she was going to be working for him.

And he had a few more questions for her, as well.

Like why she’d chosen a temporary position in Serendipity when she’d clearly had a successful career in child care on the east coast. It wasn’t What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this? But it was pretty close. He wasn’t sure if he should be prying, yet it seemed an obvious question.

If it was none of his business, she would no doubt tell him so. But something about her expression gave him pause to consider.

With just the two of them in the room, she appeared uneasy—like a cornered animal, with wide, wild brown eyes staring back at him. Though she was trying to hide it, she was clearly uncomfortable sitting here with him.

Maybe she was just nervous about starting a new job in a new town, but somehow he thought it was more than that. He hoped she wasn’t reconsidering the position. It had been next to impossible just to find someone suitable for these circumstances the first time around. He didn’t know if he would find anyone else willing to do the job.

He fidgeted in his chair, which was unusual for him. Normally, he would just blurt what he was thinking outright. He’d been told on more than one occasion that he was too blunt and outspoken. This might be a good time to work on that defect.

But how did one ease into this kind of subject?

Before he could say a word, there was a knock at the door.

Stephanie jerked in surprise, as her gaze shifted to the door.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, rising. “I wasn’t expecting anyone this evening. It’s probably my father’s friend Jo, although she usually just lets herself in. I’ll only be a moment.”

Stephanie tried to smile, but the color on her face had faded into a serious shade of gray. She clasped her hands together in her lap until her knuckles were white.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m—yes,” she stammered. “I’m fine.”

Drew didn’t think she looked fine. She looked terrified. And it had something to do with whoever was potentially knocking at his front door.

Even though he barely knew Stephanie, his deep-rooted protective instincts flared. She had nothing to fear. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her while she was in his house, though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to. And like he’d said, it was probably Jo Murphy, come to see his pop.

Only it wasn’t Jo Murphy.

Drew opened the door to a lanky young man he’d never seen before, certainly not a resident of Serendipity.

A friend of Stephanie’s? Or worse yet, an enemy?

“Andrew Reid Spencer?” the boy asked, obviously trying to sound official despite the crack in his voice.

Drew’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why was the young man asking for him?

“Yes,” he replied cautiously. “I’m Drew.”

The boy shoved a manila envelope at Drew’s chest and was backing up before he even spoke. Drew instinctually reached for the envelope, clutching it to his side as the young man made his pronouncement.

“You’ve been served.”

Chapter Two

Stephanie didn’t hear the actual conversation between Drew and his guest. Adrenaline made her heartbeat pulse and pound in her ears in a fierce rhythm, like a roofer hammering nails, drowning out the sound of the men’s voices.

At the knock, she’d experienced a startling moment of panic where she’d actually considered hiding behind the couch. She’d been certain that the man at the door was Ryan, that he’d already tracked her down, determined to charm or intimidate her into going back with him.

Which she would never do.

She wondered how long this indeterminable fear would follow her around. Would she ever not jump when someone knocked on the door?

She was more relieved than she could say when she realized the visit had nothing to do with her, but she felt guilty that it was at Drew’s expense—it didn’t take a genius to figure out something had gone wrong in his world.

He slammed the door and returned to his chair, a crumpled manila envelope clenched in his fist. His breath came in ragged gasps and his face was an alarming shade of crimson. Stephanie braced for the detonation she was sure was to follow, for the man was clearly a ticking time bomb.

The explosion never came. Drew yanked at the knot in his tie and stretched his neck from side to side, but he didn’t yell, or sulk, or throw anything, which is what Ryan did when things didn’t go his way.

Instead, Drew quietly reached into his shirt pocket for his reading glasses and removed from the envelope a crisp white set of legal documents. He released a long, unsteady breath as he silently perused the papers, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. When he was finished, he bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stephanie thought he might be praying, but she wasn’t certain. Probably staving off a headache, as well.

The pressure in the air around her seemed to intensify as her mind thought up a number of scenarios that Drew might be facing. She wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t sure how. When she laid a comforting hand on his forearm, his muscles rippled with tension.

“My ex-wife is suing me for full custody of the twins.” The statement was matter-of-fact, but his expression was anything but. Agony flashed through his eyes when he spoke of the woman, and Stephanie winced. She could relate to that kind of pain—of having the person you had expected to spend your life with let you down.

But there was more injury than anger in Drew’s gaze. Stephanie couldn’t claim to be as noble. She despised what Ryan had done to her, and she hated herself even more for having let him, for getting her priorities so mixed up she couldn’t see what was happening to her until it was too late.

But for her, at least, what was done was done, and she was moving forward with her life, starting now.

For Drew, however, it looked as if his troubles were just beginning.

He cleared his throat, his lips moving silently as he searched for the right words. “Obviously, I’m pretty desperate to find adequate child care for the twins,” he began, leaning his forearms on his elbows and clasping his hands together. “The boys were in day care with a local woman, but she had to move to Chicago to be near her ailing sister. Her leaving left a big gap in Serendipity, especially for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied, though in truth she wasn’t exactly sorry. If the woman hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have a job. “The boys are three years old, right? Do they attend preschool yet?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, Serendipity doesn’t have a preschool.”

“Oh, my,” she responded, her surprise showing in her voice. She would have thought that even as tiny a town as Serendipity would have a preschool to help the little ones with learning readiness.

“I know. It’s a huge issue, right? I’ve been in mediation over custody of the children with my ex-wife, Heather, for some time now, and being able to send the twins to a preschool might have worked in my favor. Right now, I have temporary custody. Heather sometimes visits the kids on weekends. Right after the divorce, that was how she wanted it, but now, inexplicably, she’s changed her mind.”

He sighed. “I hired you in the hopes that she and the mediators would see how serious I am about taking care of the twins and would grant me primary custody without getting the court involved.” He slapped the legal document with the back of his hand. “As you can see, that’s not working out so well for me.”

He scrubbed his free hand over his scalp, making the short ends of his hair stick up every which direction. “If my ex-wife has it her way, I won’t get to see the twins at all, except for maybe supervised visits. She’s claiming I’m an unfit father.”

“Why did she change her mind? And why would she be so unwilling to share custody?” Granted, Stephanie had just met Drew, but she’d appreciated what she’d seen so far. No one could fake the kind of love shining from Drew’s eyes when he was around his boys, or even spoke of them. He appeared to be a patient and tender father. He was even willing to hire a nanny from out of town to make sure the twins were adequately cared for full-time. If that wasn’t devotion, Stephanie didn’t know what was.

Besides, the boys needed their father in their lives.

“Two years ago, Heather left me and the kids because she didn’t like being tied down as a wife and mother. She’s a party girl, and always has been. Staying home on Friday nights just didn’t suit her.”

“Then why does she want custody of the boys now?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “There’s the rub. I don’t know. She doesn’t want to be tied down with the twins, so it only makes sense that I maintain primary custody. I’m guessing she just doesn’t want me to have them, because she wants to hurt me. I had no idea she felt so much hostility against me.”

His voice was raspy with emotion, and his gaze didn’t quite meet hers. “If she wins in court, the twins will be raised by various relatives and an absentee mother. I’m afraid for them. That’s why I have to fight.”

“Wow.” Stephanie didn’t even know what else to say. She’d grown up in foster care. She knew firsthand what it meant to be unloved, to be shuffled from house to house with no stability. She couldn’t imagine using those two precious boys as pawns in what was essentially a vindictive game.

“According to this summons, I’ve got a CFI—a Child and Family Investigator—from the court coming to the house sometime in the near future to scope out the family situation. With all your credentials as a nanny for the twins, I can only hope it will help my case.”

“It certainly can’t hurt. I’ll do whatever I can,” she vowed.

“I know I have to trust God with my boys. But sometimes I find it hard to put my circumstances in God’s hands. Their whole lives may be affected by what happens next.”

That, Stephanie thought, was the closest he was going to get to saying he was frightened, both for himself and for his sons. And she couldn’t blame him. She’d heard the stories of court cases gone wrong, where children had been hurt and even killed by misinformed decisions from the judges.

Compassion and resolve welled in her throat. She’d only known the twins for an evening, but that didn’t lessen her determination. She would help in whatever way she was able. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to those boys—or Drew, either, for that matter, if it was in her power to stop it.

She’d been praying for purpose in her life. Maybe that’s why God had sent her here—for a set of darling twins and their handsome, dedicated father.

* * *

Being served legal documents had shaken Drew up more than he cared to admit, and he was a little embarrassed that Stephanie had been there to witness his private humiliation. He made a quick decision to mentally shelve his emotions for now, until he had time to consider his next steps.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, suddenly noticing that Stephanie’s eyes were darkened with fatigue. “I’m being insensitive. I should have postponed our conversation until tomorrow. You must be exhausted from your trip.”

“I am a little tired,” she admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

“Then let’s table this discussion for now and pick it up tomorrow morning. I’ll see you to your room and get your bags for you so you can settle in for the night. It’s nothing fancy—just a furnished room over the garage—but it has its own entranceway so you won’t be stumbling over Pop and the twins when you need some privacy.”

She smothered a yawn, making Drew feel even guiltier for keeping her from her rest. Studying her face thoughtfully, he realized that her eyes were puffy and shaded by dark circles, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well.

He definitely didn’t want to push her when she was already exhausted, but he was still curious about her situation. It occurred to him that moving out here to be a nanny for his twins might have been a last resort for her. No one else had answered the advertisement he’d placed, and with good reason. He wasn’t offering much in the way of a salary, especially for someone who’d been a successful nanny in a large east coast town. Who would want temporary employment in the middle of nowhere?

Stephanie Cartwright, apparently.

The question was, why?

“Drew!” His father’s loud, gruff voice echoed down the hallway. “The boys are waiting on their story.”

“Coming,” Drew called back. “Give me a second. I’m sorry,” he apologized to Stephanie. “Would you mind waiting a few more minutes while I tuck the boys in?”

She chuckled and gestured with her hands. “I see what you mean about your father. Go. I can wait.”

“Bring Stephanie with you,” the old man hollered, almost as if were eavesdropping on the two of them.

Drew tensed and turned back toward Stephanie. “Do you mind?” he asked with a quirk of his lips. “Pop’s not going to stop until he gets his way.”

“No problem, really,” Stephanie assured him. “I’d love to spend a little more time getting to know the twins, and I’m sure they’re anxious to have their daddy tuck them in.”

“Probably,” he agreed. Their bedtime ritual had become one of Drew’s favorite parts of the day, when his two sleepy boys were all quiet and cuddly. Tonight, however, he doubted they were either, what with all the excitement in the household. Getting them to calm down enough to go to sleep might be easier said than done.

Then again, Stephanie was a nanny. Maybe she had some fresh ideas for rustling rowdy preschoolers into bed and under the covers.

“Drew,” his father called again. Impatiently, in typical Pop fashion. Stephanie might run for the hills yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Drew replied, winking at Stephanie. “What did I tell you?” he concluded in a mock whisper.

She giggled lightly, which erased some of the weariness from her countenance.

He felt her eyes branding into his back all the way down the hall, and unease once again bore down on his shoulders. He couldn’t help but be uncomfortable. What was she thinking about?

How he’d just been served? His apparent failure as a father?

He hoped she could see beyond the legalities to his heart. Being a dad was everything to him, and he wanted to keep it that way. Having her on his side would definitely be a positive factor, especially now that this was going to court.

The moment the twins realized Stephanie had entered the room behind him, they squealed and bounced on their beds. In Drew’s opinion, it didn’t help matters that she jumped right into the fray, laughing along with them and stirring them up to even greater noise and excitement. The idea here was to calm them down enough to go to sleep.

“Settle down, boys,” he instructed gently. “It’s already past your bedtime. If you guys want me to read you a story, you need to lie down and cover up. Right now, no excuses.”

“But, Daddy,” Matty whined, rubbing his bright blue eyes with his little fists. “We’re not tired yet.”

Drew smothered a chuckle as Matty’s objection was punctuated with a big yawn. The boys weren’t tired—they were overtired.

“We want to stay up and play with Miss Stephie,” Jamey protested.

“It’s Stephanie,” Drew gently corrected, ruffling Jamey’s hair with his palm. “And she’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow. She’s your new nanny. She’s here to take care of you.”

Stephanie placed a hand on Drew’s arm. “My name is hard to pronounce when you’re just learning how to speak. Stephie is just fine.”

“Steph-eee,” Matty said proudly.

“Very good, Matty,” Stephanie praised, causing Matty to straighten his shoulders and sit an inch taller.

Okay, that was weird—or incredible, depending on how he looked at it. She’d only spent a few minutes with the boys, and she already knew Matty from Jamey—and quite confidently, at that. How had she known which twin she was addressing?

He wasn’t able to ask how she’d done it, for at that moment the boys launched off their beds onto the floor and began dancing around Stephanie.

“Boys,” Drew warned, trying to sound stern. “Bedtime. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Grouch,” his father grumbled under his breath. Drew and Stephanie exchanged a look.

What did I tell you?

Drew didn’t speak the words aloud, but he was pretty sure Stephanie correctly read his expression. Pop was going to be interesting at his best and exasperating at his worst.

Her lips twitched. He thought she might be smothering a laugh. At least she was good-natured about it.

The twins groaned in unison at his spoilsport pronouncement, but they both returned to their beds and crawled underneath the covers. He hated to be the bad guy, but someone had to take control here.

Drew set a chair between the twins’ beds and pulled out the Bible storybook they were currently reading together. The book included little finger puppets which Drew manipulated as he told the stories, delighting the boys with his silly moves and goofy voices. At the very least, it usually captured their attention enough to settle them down; but tonight, to his chagrin, their primary focus seemed to be on Stephanie.

“Stephie do it,” Jamey announced.

“Yeah,” Matty agreed. “Let Miss Steph-eee read to us.”

“What a good idea,” his father added in a coarse voice. “Ladies first, and all that.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened at the prospect. She hesitated and cast Drew an enquiring look—ready to step in and read, but not willing to step on his toes.

It was kind of her to think of him, even though he was clearly outnumbered. He had mixed feelings about relinquishing his nightly reading to Stephanie, even once. This was his special time with the twins, their bonding time.

But this was about what was best for the boys.

Overpowering love for his sons billowed up his chest until he thought he might burst from it. By God’s grace, the twins had kept him anchored in this world when he might otherwise have drifted away. They filled his life with purpose.

He turned his face so Stephanie and the twins couldn’t see what he was feeling as he faced the truth. He was in no mental condition to read out loud, and he didn’t want the boys picking up on his concern. Stephanie was their new nanny. It would be good for her to start bonding with Matty and Jamey as soon as possible.

Who knew when that case worker was going to visit? His shoulders tensed and sent sharp jabs into his neck just thinking about it. The relationship between Stephanie and the boys had to look natural, without pretense.

Which actually made it pretense. He felt mortified even to think that way.

In any case, the boys were clearly anxious to enjoy her interpretation of the present story, perhaps even with the finger puppets, if she was willing.

“I guess it would be all right for Miss Stephanie to read to you,” he conceded, surrendering both the chair and the book to her.

“Okay,” she agreed, her dark eyes shining and a sweet smile on her face. “But only this one time. You like it best when your daddy reads to you, right?”

Both boys nodded in response to her animated question and Drew shook his head in amazement. Stephanie had somehow managed to put an enthusiastic spin on something that would otherwise have been uncomfortable and demoralizing for him.

It was almost as if she’d been able to read his thoughts and empathize with his feelings, which was an uncomfortable notion. The last thing he needed right now was a woman in his head.

“So, where are we?” Stephanie asked brightly.

Not you. We.

The way she instantly and effortlessly integrated herself into the family was unsettling, to say the least.

“Uh, Noah, I think,” he answered, smothering the catch in his voice by feigning a cough.

Stephanie might not have noticed his forced enthusiasm, but his father raised a suspicious eyebrow. Drew pretended not to notice.

He sat on the edge of Jamey’s bed and pulled the little guy into his lap, and then urged Matty to come cuddle with him, as well. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all, being able to sit here with the boys in his arms.

“A long, long time ago, there was a man named Noah. God told him he had to build an ark—that’s a big boat,” Stephanie began, holding the book so everyone could see it.

Drew had to admit Stephanie was a good storyteller. Even his father was enthralled, hobbling over and perching on the edge of Jamey’s bed next to Drew so he could watch the story in action.

Stephanie was vivacious and animated and brought the story to life with the little finger puppets. If he was being honest, she was a far better storyteller than he. And this was clearly not her first time using finger puppets. She was a natural.

She must have often read books to the children she cared for in New Jersey, or maybe even for a library story time. He could see her doing that, captivating other little children with her storytelling as much as she was with his own kids right now.

He really didn’t know that much about her, beyond what he’d read in her resume. There were a lot of blank spots in her history, more than words on paper would be able to convey. He’d have to remedy that if she was going to stay.

Wait.

What was with the if?

Of course she was going to stay. He had invited her. Hired her. No room for second thoughts now.

With effort, Drew turned his attention back to the story. Stephanie had given each boy one of the finger puppets and was drawing both of them into the action, retelling the story she’d just read to them with their own words and their own character voices.

Why hadn’t he ever thought of that? The kids would retain the Biblical account much better if they were actively involved.

That sealed it—Stephanie was definitely going to be good for the boys. Maybe it was good that he had hired a nanny, even if it was only temporary, until the school term ended and he could be home with the boys for the summer, or at least until he’d had that court hearing at the end of May.

The twins retold the story several times, and then Stephanie tucked the puppets away and replaced the book on the bookshelf. All of the adults gathered around and listened to the boys recite their prayers as Drew tucked them in, pulling their comforters up under their chins and kissing each of the boys on the forehead.

Stephanie’s face turned a pretty shade of pink when Matty named her specifically and asked God to bless her. Drew closed his eyes and prayed right along with his sons. Their family, the nanny included, needed all the prayers they could get.

Afterward, he retrieved Stephanie’s bags from the rental car and made sure she was comfortable in the room above the garage. Before becoming Stephanie’s quarters, the room had been his study, where he often went to read or grade papers after the boys were asleep. But when he’d decided the best thing for his family was a full-time, live-in nanny, giving her the room over the garage only made sense. He’d removed a file cabinet, relocated a couple of bookshelves and made the addition of a queen-size bed and a dresser. Voilà—comfortable living quarters.

Of course, that was from his perspective—which even he had to admit was unembellished and completely male. He had no idea what Stephanie would think of the room. He didn’t know her well enough to guess, and he didn’t know what kind of conditions she’d come from, what she might have to compare it with.

No doubt she’d experienced more opulence than he could ever afford. After all, her last position was for a wealthy political household in New Jersey. Did her parents have money? What kind of living had she made as a nanny? How different were city accommodations versus what he could offer her in Serendipity?

He scoffed and shook his head at his own extraneous thoughts. He was going to short-circuit himself worrying about the dozens of unanswered questions whisking around in his brain, and he had enough to be anxious about already.

Like Heather, and being served with legal papers.

Drew took a much-needed breath of fresh air on the back porch. Quincy needed his nighttime outing, anyway, so Drew figured he might as well take a few minutes to see if he could get his whirling mind to quiet down a little, but he ended up ruminating on how his life had come to this point.

His ex-wife had taken his heart and trampled on it. He’d tried to save his marriage, even seeing a counselor, but he couldn’t do it alone. All his prayers and actions had been for nothing. Heather didn’t want to be a wife. She’d balked at the notion of being tied down to house and home.

To his surprise and dismay, Heather hadn’t even wanted to see the boys, except for the occasional weekend. And even when she’d planned to spend time with them, she’d often been late. Once she hadn’t bothered to show up at all, and Drew had been left with two disappointed three-year-olds to console.

Now she suddenly wanted full custody? He’d never felt so powerless. Didn’t the courts usually side with the mother?

What could he do that he wasn’t already doing? Jamey and Matty were in a difficult and possibly dangerous situation, since he suspected Heather would neglect them even if she won custody, leaving them with their maternal grandparents at best, or any one of her string of boyfriends at worst. And there was nothing he could do to stop the chain of events that was unfolding.

Except the fact that he’d hired Stephanie. He prayed that having a nanny for the boys would make a difference at the court hearing. He didn’t know how else to show something as intangible as love and devotion.

Shivering, he folded his arms and sighed. It wasn’t the cold night air getting to him, but rather the chill inside his chest.

There was one thing he could do. On his own, he was bare and vulnerable. But he wasn’t on his own. God in His Providence would take care of the twins. He had to believe that. God was in control of his future, and his sons’ well-being. His children were protected in the palm of the Master’s hand.

Drew bowed his head and thanked God for His many blessings. He had health and a home, and bounteous food on the table. He had family—his father, for all his gruffness, and his precious twins.

And he had Stephanie, the woman who might make the difference between his being able to secure custody of his twins or not.

God bless them all.

Chapter Three

Why did the house smell like bacon?

Drew awoke to the sizzling smell of a hot breakfast and his stomach immediately growled in protest. He hadn’t had a real, home-cooked breakfast since…

Well, it had been a long time.

He shrugged on jeans and a T-shirt, not bothering to check his appearance in the mirror. His curiosity about what was happening in the kitchen trumped the urge to take extra time to spruce up before presenting himself to the world—or rather, to Stephanie.

Drew walked bare-footed into the kitchen, where he discovered Stephanie at the stove flipping pancakes, while Pop and the twins waited impatiently at the table, forks in their hands and expectant looks on their faces. Someone had set a basket of fresh strawberries on the table and both of the boys sported telltale red-stained faces.

“Good morning, Drew,” Stephanie greeted as he entered the room and tousled his twins’ hair.

“Morning,” he echoed absently as he tried to take in the full extent of what was happening.

Stephanie was dressed in gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting pink T-shirt and had her sun-gold hair swept back in a ponytail. Even in casual clothing, she was strikingly beautiful, especially because she appeared at ease and in her element with giggling children in the room.

At home. In his house.

In the week since she’d arrived to supervise his sons, the whole house seemed to be more orderly and less stressful. She was paradoxically full of energy and yet able to create a calm, tranquil atmosphere in the house when need be. The boys loved her, and he had no qualms about having the twins stay in her care while he taught at the elementary school. He might not have known Stephanie for long, but he trusted her.

She’d apparently scoped out his pantry at some point during the week. Not only had she found all the ingredients to make breakfast, but she was wearing his Don’t Mind the Fire: Everything is Under Control apron that he used when he grilled outside.

“Pull up a seat,” Stephanie continued cheerfully. “Your pancakes are almost ready. I hope you’re hungry. I made a lot of them.” Her voice was as bright as sunrise on a spring day, which only served to rattle Drew’s nerves even more. Ugh. He wasn’t a morning person on the best of days, and this was not his best day.

“Look, Daddy. It’s a kitty.” Matty pointed to his plate. Sure enough, there was a pancake shaped in the form of the little boy’s favorite animal.

“Really cool, buddy,” he said. Fairly creative, he had to admit. Breakfast art. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an animal pancake before.”

“Me, too. Me, too. Stephie made it,” Jamey informed him, pumping his little arms in excitement and pointing at his own plate. “I got a mouse.”

Stephanie’s sparkling brown eyes met Drew’s as she chuckled and glanced over her shoulder. “I gave it my best try, anyway. A kitty’s tail is a little bit more difficult than mouse ears, and I’m not an artist on my best day.”

“You don’t hear anyone complaining,” his pop said, in an unusually chipper voice. Stephanie’s presence had seemed even to have worked on the grumpy old man.

Drew directed his gaze to his father’s plate, amusedly wondering if Stephanie had made Pop an animal pancake. Like maybe a porcupine. But he seemed to be happy devouring his silver-dollar half-stack.

“What is all this?” he asked, wondering if he sounded as disconcerted as he felt. It was as if he was a modern-day man stepping into a 1950s appliance advertisement.

Fortunately, Stephanie didn’t seem to notice his agitation. She just smiled and gestured to the skillets on the burners of the stove.

“It’s just what it looks like. The twins said they were hungry for breakfast, and I thought I might as well cook for everybody. It’s not any harder to whip up a meal for the whole family than it is just for the boys. I hope you don’t mind. I asked your father if it would be okay and he said it would be fine.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “No problem.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know how he felt about Stephanie taking over the kitchen. She fit into his family like fingers in a glove, and he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that. It was too cozy. Too personal.

Like the sweet family gatherings he’d always hoped for and pictured in his mind but had never quite had. Reality was blinding. And now Stephanie was bridging that gap with her smile and a batch of pancakes. With what appeared to be effortless grace, she flowed into the current of their family, seamlessly blending with them as if she’d been there all along.

“I take requests,” she joked, waving her spatula around like a drum major marking time with a baton. “No promises, but I’ll give it my best shot. An animal? Your favorite sport?”

“Plain pancakes are fine. What Pop’s got on his plate looks great.” He felt awkward being waited on in his own kitchen by a woman he’d invited to his house. She wasn’t exactly his guest, but he hadn’t hired her to cook and clean, either. He hoped she knew that.

“A full stack for you,” she amended. “You’re still a growing boy.”

“I’m going to be, if I start eating a full-size breakfast every day.”

“It’s important to start the morning with a good, nutritious meal, don’t you think? It gives you energy and sets the tone for the day.”

Stephanie was certainly setting the tone this morning. Clear skies, sunny and warm. What a counterbalance to Drew’s current partly-cloudy-with-a-chance-of-rain attitude.

“If we’re talking about needing some energy, I’m going to require a solid jolt of caffeine,” Drew added, smothering a yawn.

“I think we can include a cup of coffee or two with your meal, as long as you eat everything else on your plate and drink a tall glass of orange juice.” She set a steaming mug of coffee before him and he took a long, fortifying sip.

“Because it’s nutritious,” Drew repeated, mimicking Stephanie without mocking her.

She slid him a smile that affected him more than he would have liked.

“Tritious,” Jamey repeated, shoving a large strawberry toward Drew’s mouth.

“That’s right, Jamey,” Stephanie encouraged, sounding just as proud of the young boy as Drew was, even though she had no vested interest in his children beyond being their nanny.

Drew barely dodged the squished-up fruit Jamey was aiming at his face and regarded the boy thoughtfully. Jamey was his shy one. It took a while for the boy to open up, and he didn’t usually speak around people that he didn’t know, especially adults.

But Stephanie was different. Jamey already trusted her, and Drew had to admit, if only to himself, that he could see why. She already knew which twin was which and was able to address each of them by name. Most people couldn’t tell the boys apart, even after they’d been together for a while.

And her ease with the boys wasn’t the only conquest she’d made. She’d even won over his ornery, cantankerous father, which was no easy feat.

“New-tri-shush,” Matty corrected, even though the word was new to him.

Stephanie set a plate piled high with pancakes, bacon and eggs in front of Drew. For some reason seeing this well-rounded meal right in front of him convicted him of his own lapse in parental aptitude.

Nutrition hadn’t exactly been the word of the day where Drew and the kids were concerned, especially recently. An image of the blueberry toaster pastries and quickly peeled bananas that he usually served on busy school-day mornings flashed through his head, followed by a gut-tightening wave of guilt.

When had convenience food become the extent of their morning routine?

He had to hand it to Stephanie—this was the first really nutritious breakfast the twins had had in ages. He, too, for that matter. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and a large pitcher of orange juice. His mouth was watering already.

“Nice to have a woman in the house,” his father commented gruffly, loud enough for the neighbors in the next county to hear. He grunted and shoved another large forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Yes, ma’am, this is the bee’s knees.”

“Why, thank you, Frank.” Grinning, she flipped the last pancake onto a plate. “I’m certainly outnumbered here, guys to girls. Even Quincy is a boy.” She set the platter of remaining pancakes in the middle of the circular oak table and tickled Matty on the ear.

The boy squealed and wiggled in his chair.

“Me, too! Me, too!” Jamey insisted. Those seemed to be his favorite two words lately.

Stephanie chuckled and moved around the table, leaning over Drew’s shoulder so she could tickle both boys at once. “It’s a good thing I have two hands.”

Drew closed his eyes, trying not to breathe, because if he did, the warm, spicy fragrance of her perfume was going to get to him. He’d always been a sucker for orchids and jasmine. Maybe it was the appeal of the foreign scent to his down-home-country nose.

Whatever it was, he didn’t need the distraction, and he was relieved when she moved away and went back to the stove to remove the last few pieces of bacon she’d been frying.

“How do you know which boy is which?” he asked, desperately trying to stay cool and collected, at least on the outside. “Most people have difficulty telling the twins apart. Did Pop help you figure it out?”

“Didn’t need to,” his father replied, before Stephanie could say a word. “She had it right from the get-go.”

“I’ve never had a problem with twins,” she answered, leaning her hip against the counter. “Matty has a little dimple on his chin,” she said, gesturing toward the boy in question, “and Jamey here has just the hint of a cowlick on his forehead.” She leaned forward and ruffled Jamey’s hair.

“Incredible,” Drew murmured under his breath. He was impressed. Stephanie certainly had a keen eye for children. His children.

“So for lunch, I was thinking we could take in a burger at Cup O’ Jo as a special treat to the boys.”

In truth, this wasn’t so much about the boys. This was about getting over the hurdle of Stephanie meeting Jo Murphy, who owned the café. His strategy was to get to Jo first and try to convince her not to play matchmaker.

Which probably wouldn’t work, but he had to try, anyway.

“Cup O’ Jo?” Stephanie queried. “Is that a coffee house?”

Drew chuckled. “It’s the coffee house. You’ve never had coffee until you’ve tried a Cup O’ Jo.” He chuckled at his own joke. “They have hot coffee, iced-coffee and everything in between.”

Not that he’d had many fancy gourmet coffees in his lifetime to compare it to. He wasn’t very adventurous when it came to trying new foods and drinks. He preferred the tried and true. Steak and potatoes. Black and bold. It suited him.

“My mouth is watering already,” Stephanie assured him. “Caramel frappés are my favorite.”

“And Jo’s niece-in-law Phoebe makes the best cherry pie in Texas,” his father added, smacking his lips. “Maybe in the whole U.S. of A. We’ve got us a world-class pastry chef right here in Serendipity.”

For once, his father wasn’t exaggerating. Phoebe really was a world-class pastry chef. How she’d ended up in Serendipity and married to Jo’s nephew Chance was beyond Drew’s comprehension.

Strangers seldom came to the small town, and even more infrequently stayed. Family roots in Serendipity grew as long and thick as an old cottonwood tree. Few were pulled up, and even fewer were planted. As in Stephanie’s case, visitors usually had a specific reason for visiting and left soon afterward.

“It’s Saturday, so we aren’t going to see the usual lunch crowd,” he continued. “But there’s still bound to be a few regulars catching a meal there. And, of course, you’ll meet many of the town folk at church tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say a word.

He hesitated and cleared his throat, realizing he hadn’t even asked her about her religious preferences before blurting out that last statement. Now he’d put her on the spot.

“Er—I mean, if you’d like to go to church, that is. I didn’t mean to presume. What I intended to say was that most of our neighbors attend services on Sunday. It would be a good chance for you to meet everyone, and for people to get to know you, as well.”

“Of course,” Stephanie agreed, with a smile that put him at ease and stirred him up at the same time. “I’d like to go with you tomorrow. Thank you for asking.”

* * *

Feeling more on edge than she cared to admit, Stephanie reached for the nearest breakfast plates, all of which were satisfyingly empty, and began stacking them into a sink full of warm, soapy water. The Spencer family seemed to have liked the meal as much as she’d enjoyed cooking it.

The one thing she’d been worried about was how Drew would react to her taking over his kitchen, but so far he hadn’t said anything negative about it. In fact, he was as vocal as Frank and the twins in praising her cooking skills and appreciating her efforts.

She didn’t even want to think about how things might have gone if for some reason Drew had taken offense to her actions, if he’d become angry at her poking around his pantry without her asking him first.

She’d always been that way—caring what other people thought of her, wanting to keep the peace. Her desire to please others came from a deep-rooted need in her childhood. Foster children—especially older ones—were easily overlooked, even in the best-meaning of families. Many of her peers in the juvenile system had acted out as a way to get attention—taken drugs, joined gangs, got in fights, committed crimes.

Stephanie had taken another route to getting noticed—trying to please everyone all the time. Getting straight A’s in high school when she was really a B student at heart. Keeping her bedroom immaculate when her nature was to be more cluttered and disorganized.

Being the perfect girlfriend long after all of the signs pointed to a disaster-ridden relationship.

What had she been thinking? It was thoroughly humiliating, that she’d been so desperate for a family of her own that she’d only seen Ryan’s charm and the wealth. She’d convinced herself to overlook the glaring inconsistencies in Ryan’s words versus his actions, blinded herself to who he really was just because he was a handsome, rich man who could have his choice of women.

He’d chosen her, and she’d thought it meant something. She thought he would propose to her. She thought they were in love, so she’d made excuses for him when he lashed out in anger, when he bruised her body as well as her pride.

But she was a victim no longer. Ryan couldn’t hurt her anymore. She just had to ignore the cloud of trepidation still hanging over her head until it went away on its own.

“I didn’t hire you to cook and clean for us, you know.” Drew’s warm voice came from behind her, disturbingly close to her left ear, and she jumped in surprise. “You’re a nanny, not a maid.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right,” Stephanie assured him. “I don’t mind at all. I enjoy doing a few tasks around the house while I work. I can keep a steady eye on the boys and tidy up a bit at the same time. Multitasking is my specialty.”

“Then let me help you, at least,” he said, slipping in next to her by the sink and taking the plate she was rinsing out of her hands. “You gather the dishes from the table, and I’ll rinse them and stack them in the dishwasher.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She was glad to be able to move away from him to scoop the silverware from the table. Everything about Drew oozed masculinity, from the strength of his hands to the way his biceps pulled against the sleeve of his T-shirt. Her shoulder would fit right under his, were he to reach out to her. When he’d stepped up next to her, she’d immediately inhaled his brisk scent—an intoxicating combination of soap and man.

How could she even notice Drew that way? She definitely didn’t want to go there. She was not in any big hurry to get her heart broken again. Besides, Drew was her employer.

In her head, it was easy to tick reason after reason why she shouldn’t see him that way, but that didn’t stop the awareness flowing through her when he stood at her side.

She supposed it proved she was still alive, at least. There was a time after her breakup with Ryan where she’d seriously wondered if she would survive. And now she was here, with a job and sustenance and a place to lay her head. God was good.

“You had a funny look on your face when I first opened the door last week,” Drew said conversationally. “What were you thinking—apart from wondering if my dog was going to eat you, that is?”

She drew in a surprised breath. “You mean, about you? Honestly? I didn’t expect you to be a…well, a cowboy, for lack of a better term.”

“Ha!” he chortled. “And I didn’t expect you to be…” His face turned an odd crimson color and his lips curved first into a frown and then into a grim line. “Well, it doesn’t really matter what I thought. Do you like baseball?”

Now that was an abrupt change in conversation if she’d ever heard one.

What had he thought of her? Somehow she didn’t think she was going to find out any time soon.

“That depends,” she answered, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Watching baseball or playing it?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Both, I suppose.”

“I’m not big on watching baseball on television, although I don’t mind catching a game if someone else is watching it. I’ve seen a few Yankees games live. That was fun. I especially liked the hot dogs.”

“That’s the twins’ favorite part of live baseball, too,” Drew said with a chuckle.

“See? We have a lot in common already.”

“And playing? How are you at hitting a curve ball?”

That, Stephanie thought, depended entirely on what kind of curve ball was being thrown. The ones life had been pitching her lately had been beaning her in the head. But she supposed he was asking about the real kind, the one with a literal ball. “If you want to challenge me to play, I’m down with it—and I’ll warn you right now, I’m the woman to beat.”

“Intriguing. I’m going to put your words to the test, you know. The twins are on a T-ball team, and they’ll want you to practice with them. They’ll probably want you to come cheer them on at their games, too.”

“I would love to,” Stephanie answered sincerely. In her experience, being a nanny and being a cheerleader often went hand in hand. Anything she could do to instill in her charges the self-esteem she lacked as a child was worthwhile in her book.

“Most Saturdays I take them out to practice in the park,” Drew continued. “I’m not sure we’ll get to it today, but maybe next weekend we can bat a few balls.”

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