Miles Grainger owns the largest apple orchard on the west coast. He’s spent the past month in St. Louis attending to the estate of his late brother and sister-in-law. While he’s anxious to return to Oregon, he’s also overwhelmed by the added responsibility as guardian of his niece and nephew. While he knows everything about trees and fruit, he’s totally clueless about being a parent.
Despite her duties as nanny to her employer’s children, Emily offers to help Miles weather the problems he faces on the trail with two small children. Will their friendship develop into more during their time on the trail? And, once they reach their destination, will she be willing to give up her dream of teaching to become a wife and ready-make mother?
From her seat on the driver’s bench, Periwinkle giggled.
He drew the pin back, ready to try again, when a soft voice at his side asked, “Do you need some help with that?”
Miles looked up into the huge brown eyes, and timid smile belonging to the famous storyteller, Miss Emily. “Yes, please. I think I have the folding part right, but these pins should be outlawed.”
“They are a wonderful, and time-saving, invention. However, they do take a bit of practice to master. Here,” she said, stepping forward. “Allow me.”
He stepped back, and handed her the tiny weapon, grateful the baby was in a docile mood, rather than his usual flailing arms and legs.
"You’re very adept at that,” he said. “You’ve obviously had your share of practice.”
She gave a small shrug of her narrow shoulders, and admitted, “Not really. This trip is my first as a governess. I do a lot of sewing. Pins are not that different from needles.” After tightening the wrap of the cloth, she slid the pin effortlessly through and locked it in place. “Do you have some soaker pants to go over his nappy?”
“Probably somewhere back in the wagon. We’ve been going pretty much bare legs because of the heat.”
“As long as you’re keeping him out of direct sunlight, I’d say he probably enjoys the light weight.” Once she’d laid the baby back in his basket, she stuck out her hand, and said, “My name is Emily Prentiss.”
“I’m Miles Grainger,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”
“Miles,” she said softly. “It’s nice to finally put a name to a face, rather than just think of you as Periwinkle’s father.”
“Oh, he’s not my father,” Periwinkle said from her perch on the bench. “My papa went to live with the angels. My mama, too.”
Miles waited for the tears to come, and was pleasantly surprised when they didn’t.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Periwinkle... Mister Grainger.”
“It was unexpected,” he explained. “Especially the part where my brother chose me to be their guardian.”
She's also the granddaughter of a Methodist minister known for his fire-and-brimstone approach to his faith. Nancy has brought some of his spirit into her Christian romances. And, her own off-beat sense of humor to her clean & wholesome books.
When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.