Deadly Competition. Roxanne Rustand

he wasn’t mistaken, he could see the shadow of luggage on the front seat. “I thought you said you had transportation.”

      “I did. I borrowed it.” The woman tipped her head and flashed a tight smile. “I’m Mandy Erick, by the way. And you are…”

      “Clint Herald.”

      Her brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, framing a delicate face that appeared freshly scrubbed and without makeup. Her rumpled clothes—a pale lemon sweater and wrinkled jeans—looked like they were probably expensive labels.

      Unless she shopped for designer bargains at Goodwill, she had to have come from money—yet he caught a definite hint of simmering tension and desperation that she quickly masked.

      Again, warning bells sounded at the back of his mind.

      Why would an attractive woman like this be so edgy? Was she running from something?

      In a town the size of Loomis, people recognized each other. Knew each other’s families from way back. If you saw someone you didn’t know, he was probably your cousin’s best friend’s brother, or had gone to school with your sister…and you could do a quick and accurate character check by picking up the phone.

      Clint had never seen this gal in his life, and he could tell from her cultured, northern accent, that she wasn’t from anywhere close by. What he didn’t need were any surprises, bringing an unknown person into his home. “As I said on the phone, I’m no longer looking for a nanny.”

      “Can we at least talk? I’m new in town and I’d like to stay in the area, so I need to find a job. I love kids and—”

      Behind him, he heard something crash to the floor that sounded suspiciously like the plate of cookies some neighbors had left on the kitchen table. He spun around and hurried to the kitchen with Mandy at his heels, to find Sarah staring at the shattered plate and broken cookies, her lower lip trembling. At least there isn’t any blood. Thank you, Lord, for that.

      “I’m hungry, Uncle Clint,” Sarah whimpered. “I—” At the sight of a stranger, she fell silent and backed up.

      Outside, Clint’s old black Lab, Barney, started to bark, belatedly realizing that someone had arrived. Then Molly, Sarah’s puppy, joined in.

      Clint’s phone started to ring just as he hunkered down to pick up the shards of china. He glanced at the number on the screen and drew in a sharp breath. The Loomis Bank—and if it was the loan officer, the call was one he couldn’t afford to miss.

      Cell phone in one hand, broken china in the other, Clint wavered.

      “Go ahead,” Mandy said. “I can handle this.”

      He frowned at Sarah, hesitating over leaving her in the company of a stranger while taking a call that needed to be private. Maybe Mandy was okay, and maybe not. But after Sarah’s outburst at the store this morning, she’d been tearful and clingy ever since.

      “I’m not going anywhere with your broken dish or your daughter,” Mandy said dryly. “Go ahead. Consider this part of my interview.”

      “I’ll just be outside.” Straightening, he sidestepped the mess and went out to the screened porch off the kitchen dining area, where he could still glance inside and keep an eye on things.

      He was put on hold twice, finally talking to a second loan officer, then the vice president.

      But as frustrating as it was to deal with the bankers, the scene inside his house was a different story. While he was on hold once again, Clint peered into the kitchen and discovered it was sparkling clean. Sarah sat at the table, having milk and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—a menu item that was apparently an exact art, because he still couldn’t make them exactly right to please his little niece.

      After that, Mandy and Sarah disappeared into the living room. Clint couldn’t see them through the kitchen window any longer, but he could hear Sarah giggle. The sound tugged at his heart until he could barely concentrate on his business call. How long had it been since he’d heard the child laugh? How long since she’d been happy and carefree?

      When he finally came back into the house, the toys in the living room had been neatly put away. Mandy was curled up on the sofa, her hair gleaming like rich mahogany with ruby highlights in the soft, incandescent light of the table lamp. She was reading a story, and Sarah was sitting next to her—almost close enough to lean against her—looking at the pictures.

      Another landmark, because Sarah had been terrified of all adult strangers ever since her mother left—especially if they had red hair.

      “Wow.” He walked into the orderly room and settled on the love seat, wishing he had a camera in hand to photograph the two of them together, Sarah’s white-blond pigtails in such dramatic contrast to Mandy’s darker hair. “It’s great seeing the carpet again. This is amazing.”

      Mandy looked at him over the top edge of the book, but kept reading until she reached “The End”—something else that impressed him. “Sarah first” had been his own mantra since January, and it needed to be any babysitter’s as well.

      “Sarah is a really good helper,” Mandy announced gravely. “And she’s a good eater, too. She ate a whole peanut butter sandwich while you were on the phone.”

      Clint felt the heavy weight on his chest start to lighten. Sarah was watching Mandy with a rapt expression, instead of the wariness she usually exhibited around strangers.

      Mandy had certainly shown her abilities, and she radiated a gentle wholesomeness that could make her the perfect nanny. Did he dare take a chance?

      “What brought you to Loomis?”

      Mandy stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I decided to do some traveling after a relationship didn’t work out. Just needed a change of scenery, I guess.”

      “Where are you from?”

      “I don’t really have a home state. We moved every few years while I was growing up,” she said with a vague wave of her hand. “Since then, I’ve done the same. I enjoy trying new places.”

      “College?”

      “Started twice. The second time, I got within a semester of graduating in education.”

      “Do you have references?”

      “Y-yes, I do.”

      Was that a flicker of hesitation? “You’ve got them with you?”

      Handing Sarah the storybook, Mandy retrieved a backpack that she’d left at the front door. She withdrew several folded documents and handed them over. “I…had some childcare experience with the Reynolds family, but they’re in the midst of a cross-country move right now. The other two are personal references.”

      He flipped through the papers, then studied her for a long moment, wondering if she’d intentionally skated past his questions about her background or if it was just his imagination.

      Perhaps she was just nervous, coming into a strange town, being in a stranger’s home. Maybe any prudent young woman on her own would feel the same. Still…

      “Before I can consider hiring you, I’d need to follow up on your references.” Did her gaze waver at that, or was it just the light?

      “You won’t find anything wrong, I can promise you.”

      He glanced at the clock on the mantel. He was due at the office soon, and he already knew Sarah wasn’t going to be cooperative during the long meeting ahead. “The fact that Nonnie loaned you her truck is a personal reference in itself. She’s a pretty tough old bird, and she doesn’t take guff from anyone. You must have made quite an impression.”

      A glimmer of hope shone in Mandy’s eyes.

      “I’ll tell you what. Wait right here while I do some checking. If everything seems square, we can have a one-week trial to make sure both of us are satisfied. Deal?”