Page 8 of Hold My Heart

Olympia shook her head, balking at the idea of being told what to do. “Sorry, I don’t have time to sit. I need to give Renee her dinner, clean the floor in the living room where she broke my favorite candy dish, and then do the laundry so she has something to wear. Her luggage just arrived and I haven’t had the time to wash the whole lot, let alone go out and buy anything new for her.” She raised a hand to her throat and her pulse thudding there. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I thought—Ihoped—I would be able to get the hang of this but nothing feels natural. She won’t stop crying and I’m afraid I’m making it worse. I still have to finalize her adoption and...” Her voice broke and she ducked her head to hide whatever expression she didn’t want him to see. “Wow, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“Because you need someone to talk to or you’ll go out of your mind. I understand.” He glanced over at Renee again. Judging the situation by what he’d seen, it could have been much, much worse. Sure, the little girl was in tears, but she was clean and fed if the plate in front of her was any indication.

However, she’d just lost her parents and the only life she’d known. There was bound to be a rough transition period. Well,roughmay be an understatement.

He turned to Olympia again and studied her for any signs of shock. “Please, Mrs.—Olympia, let me take care of this. I know my way around babies. I just need your signature.”

With something very much like defeat, she turned around and searched for a pen before finding one in a drawer. “I suppose I have no choice. You’d think I’d be a little more apprehensive about letting a grown man take charge of her. I’m going to go with my gut and trust you.”

“Thank you.” He tried to smile at her.

“Yeah, sure.”

He took the bitten-off words in stride as he placed the newly signed papers in a folder, tucking it away in his bag. Her face, hard and tight with stress, at last began to relax.

The deep breaths she’d been taking must have gone a long way toward steadying her.

“Look, we can talk about logistics later. How you want me to work my schedule around yours, what days you need help, et cetera. I live about fifteen minutes away so I won’t need to move in here. That has to make you feel better. Right now, I want you to go into the living room, take a seat on the couch, and maybe close your eyes. If only for a little bit. And yes, I know what you’re going to say before you say it.” He had his hands on her shoulders before he realized what he was doing, pushing her back toward the hall and the cozy room he’d seen from a glance when he first walked in. “You’re going to say you have a lot of things to do. Not at the moment, you don’t. Take a second to center yourself. I’ll handle Renee.”

“She won’t like you,” Olympia insisted. “She doesn’t like anyone. Why won’t she stopscreaming?”

Frowning, Harlan turned the corner and pushed her down the hallway, onto the couch. The sun was shining orange and gold with twilight and the street outside was quiet. At once he felt like he was in a different world, if he ignored Renee’s screaming. Which his gut was telling him needed to be addressed now.

“The best I can do is try to talk to her,” he said.

“Well, good luck with that.” There was a smidgen of graciousness in her tone and nothing more. It was a good thing he hadn’t expected any out of her. If Olympia was frustrated and impatient and sleep-deprived on top of it, she was entitled to her attitude.

And Harlan knew how to handle parents.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes,” he said, watching her get comfortable and dig into the cushions like a mole.

“Whatever.” She moved her shoulders, and he could see she was fully aware of being rude.

It didn’t bother him. Much.

Making his way back into the kitchen, Harlan thought about the intricacies of this job. From this point on, he would have to feel his way, based on the child and her individual needs. It helped that he considered himself extremely empathetic.

Beside him on the kitchen counter, an electronic device was doling out melodies designed to keep toddlers interested. He promptly switched it off. It always amazed him that people could handle meetings, luncheons, and a daily barrage of business-related...well,business, but a kid throwing a temper tantrum sent them over the edge.

Maybe it was human nature, he mused. Always running away from strife and hiding their insecurities in a different, more manageable kind of conflict.

He preferred children, at least in terms of conflict, if one had to have it in one’s life. Children were innocent, their desires and requirements simple. If he had to go to work every day and handle a nine to five then he would want to bury his head in the sand for at least six months and not come out.“Hey there, little miss.” He bent down, balancing on the balls of his feet until he was eye to eye with her. “How are you doing today? My name is Harlan and I’m going to take care of you for a little bit.”

It might have been the change from a female caretaker to a male. It might have been the tone. He wasn’t sure. Her screaming ended on a hiccup and she raised little fists to wipe her eyes. “No.” Her voice held the hint of a French accent.

He blinked at her. “No, you don’t want me to take care of you?”

“No!”

“Are you still hungry?”

She took her plate and threw it at him.

Harlan took this in stride too, reaching toward the table and the tea towel Olympia had dropped there. His cheek stung. “As I thought. We have a lot of work to do.”

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