“Having been an avid skier myself, I understand.”
“You don’t ski anymore?”
Carlisle opened his mouth, but memories of the day Cressy had died flooded his mind. His throat tightened, and he shook his head.
Bart sent him a curious nod but diplomatically changed the subject.
“It appears you’ll be needing a new nanny for Grace. If you need somebody temporarily, I can suggest a friend who watches her next-door neighbor’s children on most weekends. She’s a wonderful woman and has a way with kids.” Bart rubbed his stomach. “Lizbeth’s chocolate chip cookie recipe is actually Linda’s.”
“Is the skill of excellent cookie making a requirement for all caregivers of young children?” Carlisle asked, thinking back to the comment his daughter had made earlier.
“If they want to win their hearts, I’d say yes. Have you heard of someone local who does both?”
Carlisle told him about the woman who’d brought cookies to the daycare center.
“Did Grace happen to mention the woman’s name?” Bart leaned forward.
“Only that it’s Alex Hurst’s grandmother. He calls her Grammy.”
“Then we’re talking about the same woman. Linda Jackson is Merry Hurst’s mother. They were both widowed in the same accident nearly two years ago. A couple of skiers drank too much and tried to drive down from the resort. They came around a curve too fast and hit Ray’s car, which sent it careening over the cliff. The drunks escaped with only a few injuries, but Raymond Hurst and Keith Jackson were both killed. It was a terrible day for three families.” Bart shook his head. “Sorry to go dreary on you there. Keith was a friend of mine. Anyway, if you’re looking for a temporary babysitter for when you have to work late or on the weekends, Linda would be a good person to ask.”
“A second witness,” Carlisle whispered.
“What’s that?” Bart asked.
“Only that Grace made the same suggestion about Alex’s Grammy. You don’t happen to have her phone number, do you?”
“In fact, I do.” Bart retrieved his phone from his pocket.
4
Merry rose the next morning feeling bleary. She’d debated with herself all night about putting her nose in Carlisle Wyndham’s business by suggesting his new nanny wasn’t the right choice for his daughter. On the one hand, Merry’s heart told her she should say something. On the other hand, her gut told her she’d resent someone butting into her life like that.
When she stepped into the kitchen and saw her son’s gift on the table, still unopened, her thoughts drifted back to the Wyndhams. Alex refused to put together the Lego city until Grace could do it with him. That would give Merry an excuse to contact the child’s father.
As she opened a cupboard, her son entered the kitchen, so she asked, “What do you want for breakfast this morning?”
He named his favorite cereal, and she pulled it down from the cupboard. The daycare provided a hot lunch, so she didn’t need to worry about making that. She did, however, have to make her own. She reached for the bread but noticed Alex trying to lift a full gallon of milk.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Merry didn’t take it from him but merely added a little strength to his lift.
She was reaching for the bread again, when her phone pinged. She picked it up and found a text from her mother.
Have you heard of someone called Wyndham?
Merry paused, irritated at the increase in her pulse rate. Just because she kept dreaming about the man, didn’t mean she should get excited at hearing about him. She considered calling her mother back but decided against it because she didn’t want Alex to overhear.
Yes. Why?
I got a call from the father last night. Bart referred him to me to watch Grace. Isn’t that the little girl Alex kept talking about last night?
Merry couldn’t help but smile. Good for Carlisle. Now she could stop worrying about having an uncomfortable conversation with him—and Alex should be able to put together his Lego city with Grace at Grammy’s.
Yes. Alex will be thrilled. Did you say you’d watch her?
Of course. What did you think of the man?
While Merry pulled together her lunch, she tried to think how to describe him. Her first thought had been that he was too preoccupied with work. After spending the evening with him and Grace making scarecrows, Merry had decided a better description would bedriven.
