“I could go to the moon and bring back cheese!”
Delaney forced a laugh.
“Well, hello there!”
She startled, spinning to find a woman approaching them with a friendly smile. She was familiar, but it took Delaney a moment to place her. It was the one who’d looked sympathetic during her confrontation with Charlotte’s former nanny a few weeks earlier.
“Hi.”
“I’m Heather.” The woman extended her hand. She was about Delaney’s age with dark curly hair that she’d pulled into a messy ponytail. “Heather Brown,” the woman added with a warm smile. “I remember you from that day with the nanny.” She glanced at Charlotte. “Looks like things worked out for you.”
“Delaney Wright.” She shook her hand. “I wasn’t trying to take her job, but God has a way of working things out.”
Heather’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Hmm. Maybe He just likes you.” There was something in her tone—not quite mockery, but definitely skepticism. Her head tilted to the side. “You okay? You jumped out of your skin a minute ago.”
Heather was practically a stranger, but it had been weeks since Delaney had had a real conversation with anyone besides Charlotte or Mr. Aylett.
“Charlotte, love, I’m going to sit on the bench for a minute. Stay where I can see you, okay?”
Charlotte nodded, gaze averted, thanks to the stranger who’d joined them. But she didn’t argue, just pumped her legs like Delaney had taught her to keep her swing moving.
Delaney led Heather to a nearby bench and sat, her gaze focused on Charlotte—and not missing the sedan still parkedacross the street. “This is going to sound silly,” she began, “but I think someone might be following us.”
“Seriously?” Heather’s eyes widened, scanning the area. “What makes you think that?”
Delaney explained, and Heather glanced casually toward the street. “That car?” At Delaney’s nod, she said, “Could be anything. A delivery driver on break, some guy waiting for his girlfriend. But I totally get it. Between the news and all the creepy stuff I watch on TV, I can findscaryin everyday moments.”
Delaney didn’t watch those kinds of movies. Her family had been through so much in the previous twelve months that the last thing she needed was fictional danger.
But Heather had a point. Having someone see what she saw and explain away her concerns made them seem smaller, more manageable. “You’re probably right.”
“Now, tell me about Charlotte’s hunky father. What do you know about him?”
Hunky? That wasn’t the word Delaney would use to describe Mr. Aylett. He was so much more than that.
She recalled him covered in leaves the evening before, making Charlotte giggle, playing with abandon.
The man was more than hunky. He was beautiful.
Delaney wasn’t about to discuss her employer’s appearance with a woman she barely knew, especially when her own feelings were so confusing.
“He’s not her father,” Delaney said, feeling a strange protectiveness toward both Charlotte and Noah. “He’s her uncle. Her parents are…not in the picture.”
“Uncle, huh? I didn’t see a wedding ring, so that’s even better.” Heather’s eyes lit with interest. “No baby-mama drama.”
Heather had noticed his lack of ring? What did that say about her?
Delaney shifted uncomfortably on the bench. This conversation was veering into territory that felt inappropriate. “I really shouldn’t discuss my employer’s personal life.”
“Sorry. My parents always said I was too nosy for my own good.” The words were tinged with amusement. “If there’s nothing between you and Uncle Hottie, you must be lonely, working as a nanny. I mean…I guess I’m just assuming you don’t have a lot of friends around here. You certainly don’t sound like a local.”
“I’m from Maine,” Delaney said. “Charlotte’s good company.”
“Do you live in the house with them? I bet it’s nice, one of those mansions.”
Charlotte’s delighted giggle gave Delaney an excuse to avoid the question. She watched her charge leave the swing and climb the ladder to the slide, her curls bouncing with each step. She was urging on a boy who looked a little younger than her as he climbed up behind her.
The car Delaney had feared was following her was gone, telling her she’d probably overreacted.
