to him that as he’d gotten to know more about her over the past few months, he’d begun to view the cheerful middle-aged woman as more than an employee.
She felt like part of the family. How had that happened? he wondered. Before he had a chance to ponder it, Caitlin joined them in the kitchen, pulling a laughing Emma behind her.
“Miss Calhoun said we can call her Emma when we’re away from school. Isn’t that awesome, Daddy?”
“Very awesome,” he agreed, chuckling as he stood to relieve their visitor of the load she was carrying. Glancing inside the large plastic bin labeled “Art Program,” he looked at her in confusion. “There’s a lot more in here than what you brought to the bank yesterday.”
“More of the kids’ artwork,” she explained before dropping into the chair next to Aubrey. Peering at the preschooler’s book of animals, she pointed to one of the pictures. “I’ve never seen one of these before. What is it?”
Always ready to jump in, Caitlin quickly said, “It’s a—”
Rick cut her off with a shake of his head, and she abruptly fell silent to let her younger sister answer. Aubrey was a little slower to warm up to adults, and he looked for any opportunity to encourage her to interact with people outside her very limited circle.
To his surprise she quietly confided, “I don’t know.”
“Me, neither,” Emma said easily, sliding a little closer. “Why don’t we go through the letters in its name together and see if we can figure out what they spell?”
“Okay.” Aubrey’s small index finger moved from one letter to the next as she recited the letters. If she got stuck, she glanced at Emma, who filled in the alphabetical blank. When they were done, they sounded out the name together, and she sat back with a triumphant grin. “Coatimundi. It’s really cute.”
“Well, how about that?” Emma said, giving her a quick hug. “Thanks to you, now I know what they look like, and that they live in Mexico.”
“And how to spell it,” Caitlin added, patting her sister’s head. “Great job, Froggy.”
She sat down on the other side of Emma, and the three of them leafed through the book, stopping here and there for a closer look at whatever snagged their attention. Seeing Emma with his daughters did something strange to Rick’s heart. He’d grown so accustomed to them being a three-person family that he didn’t often consider what they might be missing out on. He adored them—would lay down his life for theirs without a single thought if it came to that. Their past nannies had been wonderful, and Mrs. Fields brought a steady, compassionate demeanor into their household that he really appreciated.
But he couldn’t deny that his girls needed something more than he could give them, even though he could afford the best caretakers in the area. Even when Sarah’s own health was failing, she’d remained an unwavering presence in their young lives, calm and comforting until the end. That was a mother’s love, he realized. And no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t give them that.
But Emma had an undeniable way with them, and it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it. Maybe it was because she worked with kids all day and obviously enjoyed being around them. Or maybe she’d formed a bond with Caitlin because of her illness, and Aubrey followed along because she adored her big sister and frequently copied her behavior.
Or maybe that was simply the kind of person Emma was. In his experience, kind, caring strangers were so rare that he could quickly count them on one hand. Having met Emma Calhoun, he had to allow for the possibility that he’d stumbled across another one. If that was the case, he was beginning to get the feeling that they’d all be better off for knowing her.
“Mr. Marshall,” Mrs. Fields interrupted his thoughts in her usual brisk way. “There’s a lasagna in the oven, and it will be ready in about fifteen minutes. If you’re set for tonight, I’ll head home and let you enjoy your evening.”
“I knew I smelled something delicious when I walked in earlier,” he commented.
“Well, it’s Tuesday, and that’s lasagna night. Girls, go wash up so you’re ready when your dinner is.”
Caitlin and Aubrey scrambled for the powder room, and Rick walked their nanny out the way he did every day. After wishing her a good night, he slid the dead bolt and returned to his guest.
When he came back into the kitchen, Emma gave him a curious look, and he chuckled. “Okay, you got me. The girls like lasagna and I’m a creature of habit.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she pointed out gently. “This is your house, and you can have whatever you want for dinner.”
He knew that, but something had prompted him to clarify their routine for her. It was none of her business, as she’d told him, but he didn’t want her thinking that he was some kind of rigid financial type with no imagination. Why her opinion mattered to him, he couldn’t say, but it did.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” she went on, heading for the back door. “When you’re finished, just give me a call and I’ll come back.”
“Would you like to join us?” he blurted without thinking. That was unusual for him, a guy who normally considered every angle of a situation before deciding how to respond. But this sweet, soft-spoken artist had gotten to him on a level he didn’t quite understand, and he was definitely off his game.
“Are you sure? I mean, this is family time for you.”
“Oh, please stay, Emma!” Caitlin begged, tugging one of her hands while Aubrey latched onto the other. “Daddy told us about your project, and I want to help.”
“Me, too,” Aubrey chimed in. “But I’m not allowed to use the big scissors. They’re too sharp.”
“Then we’ll find you some smaller ones,” Emma assured her, leaning down to pull them into an adorable group hug. “It’s a big job, and your daddy and I can use all the hands we can get.”
“That’s settled, then,” Rick announced just as the oven timer rang. Stepping back, he motioned them into the dining room, where the table was neatly set for three. “Ladies, if you’ll make yourselves comfortable, I’ll bring in our dinner.”
“And an extra plate for Emma,” Caitlin reminded him in a tone that was far too grown up for his taste. He had a feeling that before he could blink, his six-year-old would be sixteen and he’d be meeting her potential boyfriends at the door, casually holding his nine-iron in a not-so-subtle warning.
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, swallowing a laugh as he got to work.
The three of them normally occupied half of the round cherry dining table so they could more easily talk and pass the dishes. To accommodate their visitor, they sat more evenly spaced, chatting about their days as if the four of them ate together every night. To anyone out on the sidewalk passing by the large bay window, they’d look like any other family sharing a meal at the end of the day. It struck him again that while he’d taken over Sarah’s care of the girls, he couldn’t ever take her place.
Not that he hadn’t tried, he mused with a frown. It just wasn’t possible.
“Daddy?”
Aubrey’s voice dragged him back to their dinner, and he looked over at her. “Yes?”
“You look sad.”
“I’m fine, baby,” he assured her, forcing a smile. “How’s your lasagna?”
“Yummy. Mrs. Fields let me help her put the noodles in the pan. They were all slippery, and she let me eat some of the broken ones. It was fun.”
“Aw, I wish I could’ve done that,” Caitlin complained.
“You were at school, working on your painting with me,” Emma reminded her. “You had your fun, and Aubrey had hers. That makes a nice day