Page 19 of Nanny for the Cowboy

Ugh, I haven’t sung in public since…oh God….

I sag into myself, sighing as I drop my head before meeting his stare again. “Fine, fine. I’ll sing.”

“Yes!”

The laugh escapes me even as my nerves fizz with nervous tension and a familiar excitement. I used to love to perform, but that dream had been thoroughly squashed back in the day.

I’m still a fairly gun-shy after all these years, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to sing. God, will I even sound good after all this time?

“What do I sing?”

Darby shrugs. “I don’t know. Just do something easy, something you know really well.”

God help me, but the first song I think of is a damned Disney tune, and I can’t believe that it’s the one my brain is convinced is a good idea.

Still, it’s simple, and I do know it by heart since it’s from one of my favorite movies.

“Umm, okay.”

And after clearing my throat way too many times, I slowly sing through “Baby Mine” from fuckingDumbo—because I’m a damn sap, that’s why.

I start a bit shaky, but as I keep singing, a familiar wave of exhilaration tumbles through me. I remember this feeling, the way it lit me up when I performed as a kid and through my teenage years.

It all dropped away so that I could focus on my career, and I forgot how much I enjoyed it.

I’ve really missed this.

Darby watches with a smile, and I pretend to soothe his tears like the mother elephant in the movie, getting just a tad choked up at the memory.

I’ve always wanted kids, but the time was never right, and I started to believe that it just wasn’t in the cards for me a long time ago.

Just like singing, my desire for a life outside of work just dried up, going to drought levels because of how much I neglect both.

The short song comes to a close, and Darby gives me a little applause. I can feel my cheeks heat from it, and as I’m trying to wave it all off and get him to pack up, a woman approaches us.

“I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear your singing.” The young woman looks about my age, and my stomach drops after realizing she was actually listening to me. “I’m Rosie, and I just wanted to say that you’re really good.”

My heart is buzzing behind my ribs, well past thumping and straight into frenzied hummingbird territory.

“Oh, that’s very nice of you. Umm, thanks.” I offer a hand to Rosie as Darby looks on with a silly grin on his face. “I’m Clover.”

She takes my hand, shaking, and then folds her arms across her chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.”

“Oh, no. I just moved from New York City about a week ago. I’m nannying for Brooks Lowe.”

Rosie’s brows raise, and she nods her head. “Oh, I know Brooks. Ace is a fine man. Helps out whenever we need an extra set of hands, or hand as the case may be right now.”

She chuckles slightly, and I realize that between the grocery store, the post office, and the hardware store, everyone seems to know Brooks, and they all call him “Ace.”

“Hi, Ms. Jackson.” Darby finally speaks up from almost hiding behind me. “This is my nanny. I told you about her, yeah?”

“You did,” Rosie smiles as she responds. “Pleasure to meet you, Clover. I work at the school. I happen to be this little rascal’s history teacher.”

I start slightly, realizing that I’m talking to one of Darby’s teachers, and he’s apparently been talking aboutmeat school.

“Oh! Hello. Yes, it’s a pleasure.” I nod again, helping Darby fold up the blanket to slip it into the bag. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your day. Little Rascal demanded that I sing for him.”

She waves her hand, smiling at both of us. “Nonsense. It was lunch and a show. And I meant it. You’re really quite good. You should consider performing at the community events.”

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