Page 3 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

Only two weeks since the head-on collision with a drunk driver killed all parties involved.

This morning’s near-miss was another reminder of how the world could change in an instant.

Being left guardian and sole caretaker of her little sister hadn’t been a surprise. The jolt was just how truly unprepared she was. Her twenty-seven years of life still left her ill-equipped for the responsibilities now on her shoulders.

For the first few days, Calleigh’d been inconsolable. All she wanted was Mommy and Daddy. So did Remy. Their parents had always been there for her, and she’d never felt a moment’s doubt of their love and devotion to her.

Twelve-fifteen. Just over an hour before she had to pick Calleigh up from preschool, where she was enrolled in a program two mornings a week to provide socialization. Remy tried to fit as much as she could into these small respites. The rest of her time, she comforted her sister. And sought comfort herself.

Looked like she’d have to run another ad and take another week off work. Neither thought appealed. She craved a return to her routine, although that was impossible. Her single-minded focus on her work was going to have to be adjusted to include her little sister.

Ring.

She glanced at her list. Who could be at the door? No remaining interviews. She creakily rose from the kitchen table, made her way to the front door, and opened it.

Who the heck was this? “May I help you?”

“I’m here to apply for the nanny position.”

Remy fought to school her features into the poker face she was known for.

A good-looking guy, but not classically handsome. His brown eyes looked kind, and his brown hair was fairly long—nothing like the close trims on the men she worked with.

“I’m not sure you’d be a good fit.” She’d never thought of considering a man.

“Please, at least give me an interview. Let me prove to you I’m the best choice you can make.”

Intrigued, she extended her hand. “Remy St. Claire.”

“Russell Stevens. You can call me Rusty.” His smile was tentative, and he blinked rapidly as he shook her hand. The handshake was firm, and his eyes bright and clear. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Well, I have to pick up Calleigh in one hour. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

His grin was quick. “I have to pick up Mira in one hour as well. They go to the same preschool.”

“You have a daughter.” Okay, point in his favor.

“I do.” His face lit.

In other circumstances, she would’ve called his expression beatific. Clearly his daughter was the light of his life. “How old is she?”

“The same age as Calleigh—three. They’re in the same play group.” He paused, shifting in his seat, looking away for a moment, then meeting her gaze. “I’m so sorry about your parents. I didn’t know your father, but I knew your mother. We talked every Tuesday and Thursday for the past year—since play group began last September. Mira and Calleigh get along well.” He blinked twice. “Deanne was a great woman, Remy, although I’m sure you know that. She was so proud of you and Calleigh—”

Her body trembled for an instant before she could control it. She pressed her fingers to her lips.

“I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, caught her eye, and eased back.

Get a grip.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “—I didn’t realize she spoke of me. I mean, I’m much older than Calleigh and moved out of the house ten years ago…”

“You never stopped being her child. Mira’s the light of my life, and even when she’s a mother herself—” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “—she’ll always be my little girl.”

An image of Calleigh as a mother stole Remy’s breath. Twenty years? She hadn’t even made it twenty days.

The newest applicant tilted his head. “May I come in?”

Despite herself, she smiled. “Yes, let’s talk in the kitchen.” They walked through the living room and to the kitchen that was a little less sterile now she had someone to share the space with. She indicated one of the chairs.

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