The Nanny's Texas Christmas Page 5

  “Maybe so,” Marnie said. “But you can’t, not with all the work you have at the ranch. So I think we can all agree—you need a babysitter for Logan.” She stepped in front of Lana and Flint, causing them both to stop. “And the right person to do it is here. Miss Lana Alvarez.”

  “Oh, Flint doesn’t want—”

  “You’ve got time after school. And a Christmas vacation coming up.” Marnie crossed her arms, looking determined. “Logan already loves you. You could help to keep him safe and happy.”

  Flint’s desire to keep Lana at a distance tried to raise its head, but his worry about his son, his gratitude about Logan’s safety, and the sheer terror he’d just been through, put his own concerns into perspective.

  Logan took priority. And if Lana would agree to be Logan’s nanny on a temporary basis, that would be best for Logan.

  And Flint would tolerate her nearness. Somehow.

  “Can she, Daddy?” Logan asked, his face eager.

  He turned to Lana, who looked like she was facing a firing squad. “Can you?” he asked her.

  “Please, Miss Alvarez?” Logan chimed in.

  Lana drew in a breath and studied them both, and Flint could almost see the wheels turning in her brain.

  He could see mixed feelings on her face, too. Fondness for Logan. Mistrust of Flint himself.

  Maybe a little bit of...what was that hint of pain that wrinkled her forehead and darkened her eyes?

  Flint felt like he was holding his breath.

  Finally, Lana gave a definitive nod. “All right,” she said. “We can try it. But I’m going to have some very definite rules for you, young man.” She looked at Logan with mock sternness.

  As they started walking toward the house again, Lana gave Flint a cool stare that made him think she might have some definite rules for him, too.

  Chapter Four

  As Lana pulled up to the ranch the next day after school, she saw Flint waiting for her. Arms crossed, big like a mountain.

  Her heart pounded way harder than it should. What had she gotten herself into? Why had Flint’s problem, how to take care of his son and give him the attention he needed, somehow become her problem?

  As soon as she parked and got out of her car, he approached her. “We need to talk,” he said, “before Logan gets here.”

  “Sure. He’s riding the late bus, right?” She’d brought a bag with a change of clothes, and she pulled it out of her backseat. “By the way, the terms you texted me last night were more than adequate.”

  “I’ve been thinking since then,” he said. “Give that bag to me. Let’s walk and talk.”

  “Being a foreman means you’re bossy, I guess?” She let him take the bag out of her hands, because it seemed like it wouldn’t do much good to argue.

  One side of his mouth quirked up just a little. “Maybe. Come on. I want to show you something.” He shepherded her toward the rear of the ranch house.

  His hand on the small of her back meant nothing, she reminded herself as he ushered her through the kitchen. Just another piece of his bossiness. But the unseasonably warm weather made her fan herself and inch away from him as they arrived at a room in the back. Actually, a little apartment.

  “We got to thinking,” he said. “Marnie and Bea and I. We wondered if you’d want to stay here through the holidays.”

  “Stay here?” She looked around the cozy little efficiency. “Why? I have a place in town.”

  “True, but sometimes, I have to work late. Mrs. Toler used to stay over, but it wouldn’t be appropriate...” He trailed off.

  Lana swallowed.

  “Anyway, it’s inconvenient having to bring clothes along each day, isn’t it?”

  She turned around, looking at the apartment. “It’s true I haven’t really settled my place yet,” she admitted. The small apartment building where she lived in Haven had been a temporary solution when she’d gotten the teaching job in August. And she’d been feeling depressed about being there alone over the holidays. To live at the ranch, surrounded by all the kids and clutter and life... It would definitely suit her.

  “See, there’s a desk and study lamp.” He turned it on, then off again. “For your teacher work. The place isn’t fancy, but...”

  The door to the apartment burst open, and Bea Brewster, the fiftysomething director of the boys ranch, came in. Tall, with no-nonsense brown hair and glasses, she was stern and fair. The boys all knew they couldn’t pull anything over on her. And everyone learned pretty quickly that there was a heart of gold beneath her businesslike facade.

  “Just the two people I want to see,” she said. “Do the two of you have a moment? Did I hear, Lana, that you might stay with us for a while?”

  Lana blinked. “I... I might. Flint suggested the idea just now. Is that what you wanted to talk about? If it’s a question of rent, I’m month by month at my apartment...”

  “No. No rent.” Bea patted Lana’s shoulder. “It’s just standing empty. You’re one of our best volunteers. Take it.”

  “But someone else might want—”

  Bea waved a hand. “All of our other volunteers have...” She paused, her mouth quirking as if she was embarrassed. “No one else needs it.”

  Heat rose in Lana’s face. She knew exactly what Bea had been about to say. All of our other volunteers have families. She took a quick glance at Flint. Did he think she was pitiful, all alone in the world?

  He was looking at her thoughtfully, but exactly what he was thinking, she couldn’t tell.

  “Now,” Bea said, “I want to talk to the both of you about the Christmas pageant.”

  Lana couldn’t restrain a little hand clap. “I remember those from growing up around here. They were wonderful. You’re still doing them?”

  “Well,” Bea said, “I hope so. The community loves it, the boys love it...” She waved an expressive arm back toward the rest of the ranch house. “We all love it. But with the move and all it entails, I just don’t have time to do the pageant justice, and it’s floundering for lack of leadership. We’re in a new venue, and we need new ideas. Lana, would you consider taking charge of it?”

  “I...” Lana gulped. “When is it?”

  “It’s in exactly ten days.” Bea sighed. “Next Friday night, which doesn’t give us much time. I have the scripts, and the parts are assigned, but I haven’t done much more than that. You can rehearse the boys over the weekend and after school, and once they’re off, they can rehearse all day if you want them to.”

  “It sounds like you have it organized pretty well,” Lana temporized, wondering if she could possibly make the time to do it. “It’s true I did community theater when I was growing up.”

  “Then you’ll do it?” Bea asked, smiling as if she already had Lana’s answer.

  Lana felt overwhelmed, but she also wanted to help. “I’ll give it a try. Just show me where the materials are, and the scripts, and the assigned parts, and... I’ll take it from there.”

  “Thank you!” Bea pulled her into a hug. “You’re such an asset to the ranch. Now, Flint.” She looked at the big rancher, who’d been standing off to the side in his quiet way. “I think it would be best to do the pageant in the storage barn. We’ll let some of the older boys off their regular chores to help clean it, and the Macks have agreed to supervise that, since several of their boys will be involved.” She turned to Lana. “The Macks—Eleanor and Edward—are our house parents in Wing One.”

  Lana nodded. “I’ve met them.”

  “Someone will need to build the sets.” Bea looked up at Flint. “I know you’re busy, but you helped last year, so you know what’s involved. Are you willing to spearhead that part?”

  Lana’s stomach danced with some strange kind of butterflies. She was already going to be spending time with Flint, as Logan�
��s nanny. If he helped with the pageant, that would be even more togetherness. And the fact that she felt more excited than upset was bad news.

  She did not need to get a crush on the ranch foreman. Anything remotely resembling love meant heartbreak. She’d seen that all too clearly. “I’m good with a hammer,” she offered, giving Flint a way out.

  “I’m sure you are, dear,” Bea said, “and resourceful to boot. But you’ll have your hands full with the boys.”

  “I’d like to help.” Flint spoke slowly. “But I’ve recently realized—” he glanced at Lana, then back at Bea “—that I’m not giving Logan the time he deserves. I hesitate to take on another commitment that would pull me away from him.”

  “But that’s the beauty of this assignment.” Bea raised a hand for emphasis. “Logan has a part in the pageant, and I’d like all the boys to be participating in the set building when they’re not practicing their parts. The more skills we can give them, the better, and it’s a chance to develop their work ethic. So you’d actually be spending more time with your son.”

  Flint chuckled and raised his hands like stop signs. “Okay, okay. Can’t say no to Miss Bea,” he said to Lana. “As long as I can spend time with Logan, I’ll help.”

  From the direction of the ranch house’s kitchen, a crash sounded. A boy’s voice raised, then Marnie Binder’s exclamation, then another crash.

  “I’d better see what that’s all about,” Bea said. “Thank you both, so much, for agreeing to help. Flint, could you show Lana the barn so she knows what she’s dealing with?”

  “Uh, sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  Bea rushed off, and Lana leaned back against the study desk, propping her hands on either side of herself. “My head’s spinning,” she admitted to Flint. “Did I just get a new place to live and a second new job?” Then realization struck her, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t even think of how this could interfere with being Logan’s nanny. I’m sorry. I can turn it down.”

  Again, the little half smile quirked Flint’s mouth. “No, you can’t,” he said. “Nobody turns Bea down for anything. And it’ll be fine for Logan, since he’s involved in the pageant.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “And if you’re serious about staying out here, me and some of the guys can help you move in whatever things you need for the holidays. Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  “Whew.” She mentally cataloged the time remaining in the week. “Maybe Thursday evening would be better.”

  “All right. Let’s take a look at the barn.” Without waiting for her, he led the way out of the ranch house.

  Lana followed along behind him, her thoughts racing. Just last week, she’d been looking toward the holidays with dread, unable to muster the energy to decorate her bare little apartment. In fact... She stopped still.

  Of course.

  She’d prayed for God to get her through the holidays in good spirits, giving her a way to help others in order to escape her own loneliness. She’d envisioned God bestowing some sort of meditative peace where she didn’t feel the loneliness so badly. She’d hoped He’d block from her mind the fact that she was supposed to be celebrating her first Christmas as a newlywed, help her bear her solitude with grace.

  She’d never considered that God would answer her prayers in a completely different way. A way so much better than giving her a quiet, calm peace. A way filled with fun and energy and kids and friends. A way exactly perfect for who she was.

  Thank you, Father. She looked up at the blue sky and involuntarily lifted her hands in praise and thanksgiving.

  When she started walking again, she saw Flint looking at her quizzically. “You okay?”

  “I’m great,” she said, smiling and hurrying to catch up with him. Clearly, the Lord was guiding her through this Christmas season. And if He’d given her a cross to bear in the form of a very handsome cowboy, well, He was known for that sort of thing. With His help, it would all turn out okay.

  * * *

  After Flint had shown her the barn, Lana went to meet Logan and then shooed Flint away, assuring him that she could find her way around the cabin with Logan’s help.

  A cross to bear was one thing, but being in Flint’s company for the entire afternoon was too much.

  So she followed the exuberant Logan along the dirt road to the little cabin where he and his father were living. Beside them, a breeze rustled through the milo stalks, making them rattle. Ducks, a small flock of them, whooshed off the small lake and into the sky, quacking. The winter sun warmed Lana’s back.

  “Come on, it’s this way!” Logan ran ahead with his usual high energy, clearly proud to have been given the responsibility of showing his new nanny the ropes. He trotted up the front porch steps of the little wooden cabin and jumped on the sturdy porch swing to wait for her.

  She walked more slowly to study the place where she’d be working. A star emblem was carved into the rough-wood siding, centered near the roof. Window air conditioners assured comfort when the Texas heat got too extreme. No flowers, and the porch wasn’t personalized with any homey touches. Lana wondered whether that was because they’d moved in recently or because Flint wasn’t the homey type.

  “Here’s our kitchen and living room,” Logan explained, holding the door for her as she walked inside and then running after her, letting it bang behind him. “And here’s where Cowboy sleeps.” He knelt beside the plaid dog bed adjacent to the couch, rearranging the dog’s toys inside.

  Lana looked around at the simple appliances, woodstove, couch and chairs. A fleet of small trucks littered the rug, and a book lay open beside the big chair and ottoman. A Western, Louis L’Amour. So that was Flint’s spot, and she couldn’t be surprised at his reading material. He was a cowboy to the core.

  “C’mon, I’ll show you my room!” Logan charged up to the loft area, and she followed, curious. The loft split into two sections, one on the right side of the staircase and one on the left.

  She followed Logan to the left side, where bunk beds, cowboy sheets and a little stack of books signaled a young boy’s room.

  Logan gestured toward the other side of the loft, accessible by a narrow passage along the railing. “Want to see Dad’s room?”

  “No, it’s okay.” Though she was curious about how a cowboy decorated. Probably a saddle blanket for a bedspread and a log for a nightstand.

  Or maybe it wasn’t really decorated at all. Logan’s room wasn’t. “You have a lot of boxes,” she said, indicating the neatly stacked row along one wall.

  “Yeah. We didn’t have time to get out my stuff yet. I have a lamp and some more toys and some old clothes from when I was little. Mrs. Toler was supposed to help unpack them, but she was always too tired to come upstairs.”

  “Well, maybe you and I could do that sometime.”

  “That would be great!” he shouted. Then his face fell. “Only, don’t open those boxes.” He pointed toward a stack of nine or ten cartons near the walk-in closet Flint and Logan apparently shared. “Those are my mom’s things.”

  “Oh.” Lana tried not to show her surprise.

  “I didn’t even know we had anything from my mom,” Logan confided, “but when we moved, we found these. I... I got in trouble.”

  Lana didn’t want to pry, but she sensed that Logan needed to talk about this. “Did you do something against the rules?”

  “I didn’t know it was a rule,” Logan explained, “not to get in those boxes. So I did, and I found a bunch of old pictures of Daddy. He was all dressed up in a fancy suit. And there were a bunch of other people in the pictures, and a lady with a fancy white dress. She was real pretty.” Logan sighed.

  “And that was your mom?” Lana asked, her heart aching for the little boy.

  “Yeah. I never saw her before. She had long blond hair lik
e a princess.”

  “I’m sure she was pretty, because you’re a good-looking boy.” She ruffled Logan’s hair. She wondered if she should talk to Flint about the importance of letting Logan know something about his mother. He shouldn’t feel like the topic was forbidden. He should be allowed to have a picture of the woman who’d given him life.

  And yet, she reminded herself, she didn’t know the whole story. And she wasn’t family. She was just the teacher and, for a little while, the nanny.

  “Show me your books,” she suggested as she kept thinking about the situation. Why was Flint so sensitive about his ex-wife that he forbade his son to even open the boxes related to her...and yet, he kept those boxes around? Was he hung up on his ex? Praying that she’d return someday? Or hopelessly angry and bitter?

  But there was no reason to be curious about Flint, Lana reminded herself. It wasn’t as if she were looking for a boyfriend; but if she had been, he obviously wasn’t a good choice. Too much emotional baggage.

  So she turned her attention to Logan. They read a couple of his favorite books together, and when he questioned some of the facts in his Texas nature book, they went outside to identify trees and grasses and bugs. When an armadillo crossed the dirt road in front of them, Lana encouraged Logan to try to get close. It was a way for him to run off some energy, and he’d never be able to catch the heavily armored creature, which, according to the book they’d been looking at, could run up to thirty miles an hour.

  Finally they headed back inside, Logan still panting. “Are you going to cook dinner, like Mrs. Toler did sometimes?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” Lana and Flint had only talked about her duties with Logan, but she could see now that the two of them needed a little household help, as well. And she was feeling blessed with the chance to spend time with Logan, with the Christmas pageant and with her new place to stay for the holidays. “Let’s see what you have in the refrigerator, okay?”

  It took some searching, but they found the makings of chili. No tortillas, but Logan produced some tortilla chips that would do. Lana let Logan dump cans of beans into the pot and showed him a few rudiments of measuring and fractions in the process. The side dish had to be fruit from cans, and when Logan found some marshmallows, it turned into an ambrosia salad like Lana remembered loving when she was a kid.