Wyoming Cinderella. Cathleen Galitz
“Really?” Sarah asked in delight.
“Really,” Ella assured her, pushing a golden lock of the girl’s disheveled hair away from her face. “That is, if you two think you’re big enough and responsible enough to take care of them.”
Unable to contain their inquisitiveness a moment longer, they jumped to their feet demanding to know what manner of creature their new nanny had brought them. Billy said he hoped it wasn’t a fish because he’d had some of those once and they all had died on him. Grabbing Ella by both hands, they pulled her up from the floor. The next thing Ella knew, Billy was dragging her battered suitcase up the front steps and Sarah was helping bring her art supplies into her new bedroom. She didn’t so much as have time to check out her new surroundings before they were pulling her back outside, demanding to see what was making all the noise in that curious cardboard box in the cab of her pickup.
Ella knew full well that she should have obtained Hawk’s permission before bringing a litter of kittens into his home. She rationalized the oversight by telling herself every boy and girl should have a pet to love and care for. Besides, what would she have done had Hawk said no? She couldn’t very well dump the kittens on somebody else’s doorstep as had been done to her. Considering how much easier it often was to obtain forgiveness rather than permission, she planned on using the desperateness of Hawk’s situation to smooth things over.
Just watching the children giggling and playing with their newfound friends made Ella feel better about her decision. She may not have been raised with all the financial advantages these children had, but before she died, her mother had cultivated Ella’s imagination and planted the seeds of kindness in her daughter’s heart. There was no denying that money could buy many material things, but one look at those children’s excited faces reaffirmed something it couldn’t procure. The joy received from a real live kitten was better any day of the week than all the video games in the world.
Hawk glanced at the clock on the wall in surprise. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so much pressing work done without the usual interruptions that had him pulling his hair out by the roots. Pushing himself away from the computer, he strained to hear the reassuring noise of his children at play—even if that meant they were bickering again. When nothing but the sound of silence reached his ears, his heart tightened in his chest. What was wrong? Where were his babies? And what in the world were they up to now?
Hawk checked his watch. The young woman he’d hired as their nanny should have been here quite some time ago. Though she had struck him as a flaky sort the instant he’d set eyes on her, something about her direct gaze, self-righteous attitude and firm grasp had given him the distinct impression that her word was good. The fact that her references had indeed checked out merely confirmed his gut feeling that she was a rare find. Where could she be?
He hurried from his office into the living room and was stopped by what he saw—or rather by what he didn’t see. It took Hawk a moment to figure out what was different. The toys were picked up, the laundry was off the floor and the big-screen television set was off. Hawk found the children’s bedrooms and playroom in a similar state of order. Since it seemed unlikely that a kidnapper would stop to tidy up, he could only assume that Ella had arrived like some fairy godmother to wave a wand over his life.
The calm for which he’d so often wished was nothing short of eerie as he realized that without his children this was what his life would be. Silent, still and empty.
Hawk suddenly felt the need to surround himself with the sound of his children’s laughter. Where were they? Glancing out the front picture window, he spied them at last. With bright handkerchiefs tied to the end of sticks, they were marching dutifully to a spot of shade beneath the old apple tree. Trailing behind was a parade of kittens. One even had a tiny flag attached to its swishing tail. It was almost as cute as their new nanny’s trim derriere swaying in time to the music they created with pots and pans and an old kazoo.
Hawk wished he had a camera handy to capture the moment on film. Sarah and Billy looked like little hobos following a red-haired pied piper. She was in the act of spreading a blanket upon the ground for this joyful, impromptu picnic. They all were smiling broadly, laughing and having a grand time. Something uncomfortably akin to jealousy twisted inside Hawk’s guts at the sight. He hadn’t witnessed such expressions of rapt fascination on his children’s faces since well before their mother’s funeral. Had he failed them so miserably that a virtual stranger could waltz in and steal their affection with little more than a sandwich and a bag of marshmallows?
And why hadn’t anyone bothered asking him to partake in this makeshift celebration?
While Hawk felt deeply grateful to Ella for her skill and inventiveness in entertaining his children and cleaning up the weekend’s accumulation of clutter, on a purely visceral level, he felt fear welling up inside the pit of his stomach as he studied his children’s beaming faces through a plate glass window. He took a closer look at the amazing young woman he’d managed to hire to look after Billy and Sarah. In a pair of jeans and a pale lemon sweater with her thick russet tresses unfurled around her shoulders, she presented a much less ridiculous figure than she had the day before. Here was Gidget and Ann Margret and every adolescent boy’s fantasy prom date all rolled into one.
The involuntary stirring in the lower part of his body at the sight of her falling down upon the blanket to instruct his children in the art of cloud gazing was tempered by a jolt of guilt. Why, she was but a child herself! Far too young and naive to have a grown father figure panting after her like some silly pup that didn’t know any better. Like someone who hadn’t already had his heart ripped out and stomped upon until it almost stopped beating entirely.
He hoped it hadn’t been a mistake bringing Ella here. The truth of the matter was Hawk didn’t need such a luscious complication in his life right now. Having buried his passion with his wife, he had no desire to resurrect it again. Certainly not with a younger woman in his employ.
A litter box was uppermost on Ella’s list of supplies that she was going to pick up in town. She had survived the first night in Hawk’s home, and though her employer had been clearly displeased that his new nanny came with a box of kittens, he hadn’t insisted that either the kittens or Ella be put out. To have done so would have risked the wrath of his children who had promptly fallen in love with their new pets. Though Holstein and Sly remained loyally attached to Ella, Chin and Chilla were fickle creatures who seemed to instinctively understand which side of their bread was buttered with gourmet cat flavors. They purred with delight in the new masters’ little arms, giving Ella a look that as much as said there would be no more Spartan table scraps in their future. Thank the gods of universal justice, their lives as paupers were over. Indeed, Hawk had instructed her to pick up all the amenities their new pets would need.
One white puff ball, dubbed Hissy Face, demanded her fair share of food without so much as a gracious exchange of allowing anyone to pick her up and pet her. If anyone so dared, she would unsheathe her claws from their velvet scabbards and spit in alarm. For some inexplicable reason Hissy Face affixed herself to the one person in the house who made it exceedingly clear that he wanted absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with her or any of her siblings. Hawk swore the beast purposely set out to trip him whenever he crossed a room. Ella assured him it was merely “puppy” love and advised him not to fight it.
At this choice of words, Hawk turned hooded gray eyes upon her. Ella seemed not in the least intimidated by his look of censure. She merely grinned as she stuffed his checkbook in the back pocket of a pair of cut off jeans that showed off the length and curve of legs that apparently remained stubbornly pale no matter how much they were exposed to the sun.
“Are you sure you trust me with several blank, signed checks?” she asked.
Hawk considered the question from a business perspective. If she ran off with his money or squandered it on luxuries for herself, it wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to take advantage of his generosity and his means. What was it about those wide emerald eyes of hers that encouraged Hawk to put his faith in this indomitably perky young woman?
“If I trust you with my children, how could I not entrust