Page 16 of Mountain Men’s Nanny

“You know the meat in the can is already cooked, right?” I asked, taking down the stewing pot for Brie anyway. “You just need to warm it up before we eat.”

Brie cocked her head. “And who told you that lie?”

“Lie? It says so right on the can.” I wanted to show her the label on the can in her hand. In all innocence. But that was when our fingers touched. A light graze, if anything. She was soft and warm. Just like I’d imagined.

Not that I spent too much time imagining much about the new nanny.

I flinched, pulling my hand back as I stepped away from her as if she had electrocuted me. Curiosity I could maintain; anything more, any kind of connection was out of bounds.

“I used to go camping with my dad, and on rainy nights when we couldn’t get a fire going or use the butane, we’d eat it straight out of the can,” I said. “And see? Not only did I survive. I grew big and strong.” I flexed my arm for effect.

“I’ll take full advantage and put those muscles to work,” Brie said, sliding a mortar and pestle across the kitchen table.

She had chosen dry herbs, dried garlic, and other aromatics I didn’t even know we had, then handed them to me to grind. Once I got going, she and Lexi set up the pots and whisking station.

“You know, I’ve never been camping,” Brie said thoughtfully. “This is the closest I’ve been to it.”

She didn’t have to tell me. That much was clear. She wore sneakers and pumps instead of boots. The way her face contorted into the cutest grimace at the mention of hunting and game meat. Her clumsiness when it came to using tools of any kind.

“My dad was big on camping. We’d go whenever he had time off work. It was rare because he worked so much,” I explained.

Brie looked at me sympathetically, the same kind of look she gave Lexi when the kid tried a sum over and over but kept getting it wrong. There was something about her. The more I looked at her, the more I saw it. A gentle femininity that was also fiercely protective. That protective quality didn’t just extend to Lexi. It included Tobias, and now I felt like it included me too. It was strange. No one ever looked at me and thought I needed protection or gentleness. But she had seen it, the part of me that was just like anyone else.

I instinctively retreated. Naturally.

“I’m going to pack up the garage. Gunner and Tobias are probably going to be back late. I’d rather skip the hassle,” I lied.

I had packed up the garage before we came in to start dinner, and Brie had watched me do it. But being alone in the house with just her and Lexi was starting to give me a taste of something I knew I could never have.

Brie watched people the same way I did. And although she was less obvious about it, I could feel her reading me like a book printed in large, bold letters.

“You don’t have much of a life outside of Lexi and Tobias, do you?” she asked with her back turned.

The pots were steaming up, and the kitchen smelled less like rations and more like a home-cooked meal.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said, giving Lexi a squeeze on my way out.

I could have had it many other ways, but my father had drilled loyalty into me as soon as I noticed he wasn’t home as much as other dads. He didn’t turn up to school events, didn’t spend weekends doing yard work, because it was more important to stay loyal to the people he served. People whose lives and work would change the world. It was his job to make sure no one got in the way of that work, just as it was his father’s before him. Now it was mine.

I stood outside and let the cool air wash over me. Winter was coming in fast, and I could tell it was going to be a rough one. An educated hunch, more than science. I was standing outside thinking about the winter and the survival training my father had cleverly disguised as camping trips when I was younger when Lexi came out.

“Brie wants to know if we’re waiting for Dad and Gunner to have dinner with us.” She had a mischievous glint in her eye. “Because I’m really hungry and if we put it to a vote, we win and they can eat later,” she snickered.

I returned her smile and steered her back inside. “Your father will be home late, way after your bedtime. We’ll keep some aside for him and Gunner.”

We set out the plates and used cutlery other than spoons, and sat down to a dinner of beef ragu, mashed potatoes, candied carrots, and green beans. Simple, but luxurious compared to the stuff we usually ate at this very same table. Brie had casually performed magic, and it was just one more reason to be in awe of her.

We ate with Lexi’s rolling commentary about the day, about her books, the deer she saw, and everything she read in the newspaper. Lexi held court, and between looks of amusement and stifled laughter, Brie and I were her captive audience, saying just enough for her to know we were listening.

“About my bedtime,” Lexi started. She scraped the gravy and streaks of mashed potato off her plate with her finger. “I’m not like other six-year-olds. I’m sure you see that now, Brie.” Her face was set in a serious expression, but she couldn’t blink the sleep out of her eyes.

“Of course you’re not,” Brie said gently, matching Lexi’s serious tone but with a slight smile on her face. “You’re much smarter than any other six-year-olds I’ve met, and maybe that’s why you need more sleep.”

She checked her phone and, as expected, it was time for Lexi’s bath and bedtime routine.

Lexi put up a bit of a fight. She tried to argue, but in the end she had to accept that as a nurse, Brie knew that with all the ‘extra brain power’ Lexi had to process, she needed to get to bed on time and rest up before starting a new day.

“I’ll get the kitchen. You’ve outdone yourself again, Brie. This was delicious,” I announced, standing up to collect the dirty plates.