The Nanny's Secret Child. Lorraine Beatty

Mom and Dad. Everyone.”

      “How do you figure?”

      Gil brushed back his sport coat, setting his hands on his hips and keeping his back to his brother, his gaze fixed out the window. “I robbed Dad and Mom of their only grandchild. I promised Dad I’d bring her back home.”

      “And you did.”

      “Too late for him.”

      “Hey, at least you tried. Leah is the one who left and took Abby away.”

      “I should have fought harder. I should never have let Abby go with her mother in the first place. If I’d understood her illness better, I would never have allowed her full custody of Abby.”

      “We all believed that a toddler should be with her mother. None of us realized Leah was bipolar.”

      “But I should have. I was married to her. How stupid was I? I should have realized. The violent mood swings, the constant demand for more attention, the fact nothing was ever good enough. I thought she was spoiled. The worst part is she lied to me. If I hadn’t stumbled on her meds when I went to pick up Abby that time, I’d never have known. Her sister, Pam, was only too eager to fill me in on how cruel I’d been.”

      “That’s not true.”

      “Isn’t it? If I’d known sooner, I could have helped her, gotten her better care, treated her differently. I might have been able to fix things.”

      “Gil, bipolar disorder isn’t something you can fix. You know that. You’re a smart guy.”

      “If I’m so smart, why didn’t I see that my own wife was ill?”

      “A better question would be, why didn’t she tell you?”

      The phone rang and Linc picked it up. Gil was only vaguely aware of the conversation. His brother’s question was the same one he’d asked himself a million times. Why had Leah hidden her illness from him? Keeping him in the dark had only complicated all their lives and led to a string of bad decisions on his part. Regrets nagged at him constantly. He longed for the wise council of his father and the keen insight of his mother, neither of whom were available. He was on his own, free to make a whole new string of poor decisions with his daughter.

      “That was a reminder that the bid on the Bancroft project is due this Friday.”

      “I’ll have it ready.” He glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. There were only thirteen months between them. They’d grown up more like twins. They could read each other’s thoughts. Right now worry was written all over Linc’s face. “I owe you an apology for fouling things up here.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing behind his eyes. “I left you to deal with everything after Dad died. I wasn’t here to help with Mom or the company. I didn’t take enough time on the bids.”

      “Gil, we all understood. The mess here with the company was all on me. I wasn’t prepared to run the business. I never appreciated how good Dad was at running things here until he was gone.”

      “Me either. Do you think we can keep the place going?”

      “I hope so. The family is depending on us.”

      Linc came from behind the desk and placed a hand on Gil’s shoulder, giving it a brotherly squeeze. “You know, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

      “I know. I’d better get back. I’ll be here early tomorrow. The nanny will be taking Abby to school from now on.”

      Linc nodded and patted his shoulder. “See you then. Oh, Mom said Beth came through the surgery on her tendon fine.”

      “Good to hear.” Gil glanced at the photo again. Everyone in his family was suffering in some way. Without their father to serve as their anchor, they were all adrift.

      * * *

      The house was quiet when Gil stepped inside a short while later. The nanny was sitting at the kitchen table working on her tablet. She looked at him and smiled, bringing a glint into her brown eyes and revealing a dimple on one side of her mouth he hadn’t noticed before. She had an infectious smile, wide and bright, that lit up the room. It almost made him want to smile back. He didn’t. “Where’s Abby? Is everything okay?”

      “Yes, of course. She’s in her room.”

      Gil tapped the tabletop with his fingers, fighting a fresh wave of concern. “Has she been there the whole time?”

      “No. We had a snack, she showed me around the house and then she took me to her room. Did you know she doesn’t like the color pink? Purple is her favorite.”

      He studied the woman. How did she know that? “No. She never said. I thought all girls like pink. My sisters did.”

      The nanny grinned as if placating a small child. “I think she’d like it if you could paint her room purple. Maybe she could help pick out the color.”

      He turned away, gathering himself as he slipped out of his sport coat. “Sure. We can do that.” He took a seat at the table, clasping his hands. “I didn’t have much time to get that room ready, and I never thought to ask about the color.” Another misstep as a father. He should have asked Abby what she wanted, but it had never occurred to him. Once he’d been assured he would have full custody of his daughter, he’d hired one of the guys at the shop to paint the room and get it ready.

      “Picking out things she likes will help her feel more at home. Change can be frightening for a child.”

      Resentment clogged Gil’s throat. “Are you saying I frighten her?”

      “No.” She pressed her lips together. “But she thinks you don’t want her here.”

      “She told you that?” His chest tightened.

      “Yes. We talked a little and—”

      “She talked to you?”

      “Yes. Why?”

      Gil stood, fighting the anger and hurt coursing through him. Abby hadn’t said more than three words at a time to him since he’d brought her home, and those were usually clipped sentences. His mother had been able to coax some conversation from her, but not much. Yet this woman had learned more about his child in an hour than he had in weeks. He faced the nanny, her big brown eyes filled with puzzlement. “Abby doesn’t talk much.”

      “She’s struggling to adjust to her new life with you. She’s lost her mother, been taken from everything familiar and put in a new situation. Spending one-on-one time with her, learning what she likes to do, will ease that transition. I’ve found that listening closely to the things they say can be very helpful.”

      “You think?” Was she accusing him of being a poor father? He’d heard that too often from his wife. He didn’t need to it hear from an employee. “I think I know what’s best for my daughter.”

      “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t.” She lowered her eyes, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

      Gil squared his shoulders. This woman had no idea what he was going through. “Abby needs time, that’s all.”

      “I’m sure you’re right.”

      Now she was placating him. “Miss Bishop, I know you mean well, but I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that you are only here to care for my daughter until my mother returns.”

      “Yes, of course. I understand.”

      He tried to ignore the hurt look in her pretty brown eyes. He had a sinking sensation in his gut like he’d just kicked a sweet fuzzy bunny. He made a mental note to avoid eye contact with the attractive nanny. “Abby is fragile right now. I don’t want her upset in any way. Just watch over her and let her have whatever she wants.” He thought he saw a glint of disapproval in her eyes but shrugged it off. She couldn’t possibly understand his situation. No one could.

      Miss