Major Nanny

Chapter Five

Stacy sneaked a glance at her watch. Nearly four. Zachary was probably through with his ride by now.

When was Harlan McClain going to adjourn this meeting?

“Need to be somewhere?” Greg Merritt murmured.

“Nervous habit.”

Harlan McClain’s eyes narrowed, but he kept speaking. “We’re setting up guards at all entry roads. Until the fence is constructed, we’ve set up checkpoints around the property-on the approach to the guesthouse, the path to the pasture, the main road and the road to the stables. We need to keep track of where everyone is and where you’re going.”

Great, Stacy thought. Just great. She had to go through a checkpoint to pick up her son from his ride?

“I need full cooperation to make this work. One of the best ways we can detect and identify threats to the governor is for the rest of us to stick to the protocols so that the aberrations stand out. Everybody understand?”

There were nods and murmurs of assent. Stacy released a soft sigh of frustration.

“I know these new protocols sound overly restrictive, but they’re necessary for the governor’s protection. Yours, too. People were killed in Austin. We can’t let that happen here. Not on our watch.”

Stacy felt guilty for feeling frustrated, but the facts didn’t change her dilemma. She needed to get her son from the stables without going through the security checkpoint Harlan McClain had set up. She didn’t want the governor to know she’d taken time out of work to give in to one of her son’s whims. Lila already worried that the job was too much for Stacy.

She couldn’t afford to give the governor evidence to support that concern.

“Starting tomorrow, everyone gets ID badges. You need to wear these at all times when on the grounds.”

Soft grumbles filled the room.

“It was my idea.” Lila spoke up for the first time since Harlan convened the meeting. The grumbles subsided.

“There’s a checkpoint outside this office now. As each of you leave, you’ll sign out. This will be required at each checkpoint-sign in and sign out.”

And the situation just kept getting worse, Stacy thought. Maybe she could talk a checkpoint guard into keeping her trip to the stable and back to himself, but she couldn’t ask him to let her go through without signing in or out.

Which left her with only one choice.

She’d have to bypass security and sneak her way to the stable to pick up her son.

“I THINK THEY TOOK IT WELL, considering,” Lila commented to Harlan after the employees filed out of her office.

“I suppose I should have softened the blow a little more,” he admitted. “But we really should have put these protocols into place the day you returned from Austin.”

The governor leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. She looked tired and tense, though she’d hidden her distress quite well while the rest of her staff had been in the room with her. “Austin police haven’t found any leads. They’re studying the surveillance systems at the capitol, but they haven’t found anything yet.”

“Have you ever considered that it might have been an inside job?” Harlan asked.

Lila met his gaze. “I’ve considered it. I don’t want to.”

“From what I understand, your decision to make the announcement of your candidacy was pretty last-minute.”

“Yes. I’ve been considering a run for a while, but the decision to hold the press conference was spur of the moment. The only person I told more than two days beforehand was Stacy.”

Harlan felt a funny dipping sensation in his gut. “An outside agitator wouldn’t have had much of a chance to figure out a way inside your defenses in such a short amount of time.”

“You’re not suggesting Stacy-”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” he said quickly. “I’m just asking questions, trying to get a clearer picture of the flow of information around here.”

“We’ve always run things here at the ranch differently than we do when we’re at the capitol,” Lila admitted. “This is my home. The people who work here are like family to me. We treat each other that way.”

“That’s a nice way to do business if you can,” Harlan conceded. “But you’re going to have to start doing things differently, especially now that you’re seeking higher office.”

Lila sighed, closing her eyes. “I know.”

“It’ll only get worse if you’re successful in your bid.”

Her lips curved. “I know that, too. I’ve always considered it a fair trade.” She opened her eyes again, pinning him with her strong blue-eyed gaze. “I’d just hoped to put off that moment for a little longer.”

“I’ll try to make it as comfortable for you and your staff as I can. Within limits.”

Lila cocked her head. “Bart told me you were the perfect person to head my security team for this fundraiser. He said you’re completely unsentimental and unafraid to be brutally honest. I need you to be that for me.”

“I’ll try to always be straight with you.”

“I know. I just hope you won’t forget what I said about my staff being like family.”

“I won’t, ma’am. I promise.”

“Go see how your protocols are working.” Lila smiled at him. “I can see you’re curious.”

He was, a little. He suspected it would take a little while for people to get used to such strict control of their movements after being given the run of the place for so long.

He hated having to do it to them; as much as he’d thrived under the discipline of the Marine Corps, he had fond memories of his youth in the North Georgia mountains, where the hot summer days had seemed the purest form of freedom-hours of tramping through the woods and playing with friends without school bells or homework to interrupt the fun. His parents had both worked, leaving him in the half-interested care of his teenage sister, whose only rules were to stay out of the hospital and stay out of jail. Somehow, he’d managed to keep those rules, though sometimes by the finest of hairs.

He checked with the guard outside the governor’s office. All fifteen staffers had signed the sheet. His gaze slid down to the clean, bold signature of Stacy Giordano.

She’d seemed restless during the meeting. And when he’d laid out the details of the security protocols, she’d looked frustrated and unhappy.

The only person I told more than two days beforehand was Stacy. The governor’s words rang in his head.

The idea that she could have anything to do with the threat against the governor seemed ludicrous on its face. She’d been the one who found the bomb. She’d dashed right into the debris, stayed there even after she found the bomb and any reasonable person would have completely understood if she’d decided to clear out and let the bomb squad figure a way in to the bomb.

Of course, if she’d been the bomber, or knew the bomber, she’d feel pretty confident the explosive device wasn’t going to blow. Not while she was in the line of fire, anyway.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he jotted a note to do a background check on the governor’s office staff. He should have started this yesterday, when he found out he was going to be in charge of security for the upcoming fundraiser. He’d already begun to suspect the bombing could have been an inside job.

Do you really think it’s Stacy Giordano?

He had learned to trust his instincts, and something about Stacy’s demeanor during the meeting had set off his radar, big-time. She didn’t like the security protocols one bit, and he wanted to know why.

He jotted another note on his phone.

Check Stacy Giordano first.

TOMORROW, STACY PROMISED herself, I’ll stick to the security protocols like glue. Just not today, when her five-year-old was probably counting the minutes she was late and working himself up into a fine lather.

The security checkpoint was stationed about seventy yards up the dirt road that led to the stable, but she decided she could stay out of sight for most of the trip to the horse barn by circling around and approaching from the rear, through a rough bit of scrubby pasture fenced off to keep the horses away from the treacherous minefield of gopher holes. Reclaiming the fallow land was on the ranch agenda for next spring, but for now, it gave Stacy a more stealthy approach to the stable.

From inside the horse barn, she heard the familiar sounds of a working stable-the soft nickers of horses and the murmur of conversations between the grooms working inside. Over the other sounds, she heard the high-pitched sound of her son’s voice responding to something a groom had said. She smiled at the sweet, familiar sound.

“Forget something?”

The gravelly drawl, close to her ear, nearly made her jump out of her skin. Whirling, she found herself face-to-face with Harlan McClain, who stood only inches away, his brown eyes hard with suspicion.

“You scared the life out of me.” She pressed her hand to her chest, her cheeks hot with guilt.

His only response was a slow, thorough appraisal of her, head to foot and back again, as if he were trying to see right through to her bones.

“Do you need something from me?” she asked when the continuing silence grew excruciating.

“The truth would be a good start.”

“The truth?” she echoed, not yet ready to incriminate herself, just in case he didn’t realize she’d sneaked her way here instead of following the protocols he’d set up.

“The road from the governor’s house to here is straight and remarkably level for a dirt road. Very easy walking.”

She didn’t reply, although she knew where he was headed.

“So I have to wonder why you chose to walk a quarter mile farther than necessary through a scrubby field to get here when you had such a nice easy path.”

His caustic tone made her bristle, driving away her lingering sense of chagrin. “Are you accusing me of something, Mr. McClain?”

“You bypassed the security checkpoint. Deliberately. I’d like to know why.”

She pressed her lips into a flat line, growing angry. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on? One step outside your rules and it’s the third degree?” She knew some of her anger was fueled by her dismay at being caught breaking the rules, but not all of it. The Harlan McClain standing in front of her seemed a completely different man than the Southern gentleman who’d treated her with such kind concern the day of the bombing. His eyes had been warm and comforting then, not hard and cold like stone as they were now.

He shifted so that he blocked out the afternoon sun, plunging his face into shadow until she could no longer see his expression. But the tense set of his muscles as he towered over her was enough to convey his hostile attitude. “Someone tried to kill your boss two days ago. I would think you of all people would understand why I asked y’all to keep to the security protocols. So you mind telling me why you didn’t?”

She couldn’t stand not being able to read his expression, so she took a couple of steps to the side, trying to force him to turn so the glare of the sun no longer backlit his face.

His hand snaked out and snagged her arm, making her gasp. He loosened his grip at the sound but didn’t let go. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Mommy, you’re late.”

She whipped her head around to find her son standing a few feet away, looking up at her with a disapproving gleam in his blue eyes.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I had a meeting and I couldn’t get away as early as I’d hoped.”

“Couldn’t you tell them you had to come here?” Zachary asked.

Stacy shot a quick look at Harlan. He looked confused.

“Who are you?” Zachary asked bluntly, his gaze following Stacy’s to settle on Harlan McClain.

Harlan cleared his throat and dropped Stacy’s arm. “I’m Harlan McClain. Who are you?”

“Zachary Giordano,” he answered formally, as he was prone to do. It had taken Stacy a while to get used to his way of speaking. It was another symptom of his Asperger’s syndrome, one that could be deceiving to people who didn’t know his situation. Because he conversed so much more maturely than his peers, and was such a sponge when it came to learning the new things he wanted to learn, people often assumed he was just a very precocious child. Which he was, in many ways.

It was the ways in which he differed from other children that would keep his life from ever being considered normal.

“Zachary’s my son.”

Harlan nodded. “I guessed as much.”

“He loves to ride,” she added, “but we missed his Tuesday lesson because of…what happened in Austin.”

“I see. So you thought you’d make it up to him?” Harlan glanced at Zachary, who was gazing up at him with an almost comical look of interest.

Seeing the signs of trouble on the horizon, Stacy quickly stepped between Harlan and Zachary. “Zachary, it’s time to go back home now. I’ve got to get you cleaned up and ready for dinner.” She turned to look at Harlan. “I’m sorry I broke protocol. I didn’t want the governor to think I can’t handle motherhood and the job at the same time.”

Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t want to sign the check-in list.”

“Yes.”

“Mommy, can Harlan come to dinner?”

“Mr. McClain,” she corrected automatically, before she registered what he’d asked.

“Can Mr. McClain come to dinner?”

She looked at Harlan, warning him with her eyes to make a quick excuse. Zachary might have all the socialization difficulties that came with Asperger’s, but that didn’t mean he didn’t form attachments to people. On the contrary, her son was prone to crushes on people. He latched on to friends at school, had a huge preference for one-but not both-of Lindsay Kemp’s twin daughters, and just last week, he’d fallen instantly in love with the courier who dropped by the governor’s office to leave some legal papers.

Once he was smitten, Zachary could be a full-bore pest, unable to read the signals people gave him that he was coming on entirely too strong. And right now, Zachary was showing all the signs of an impending crush. “Zachary, I’m sure Mr. McClain has something else to do-”

“Actually, dinner sounds good,” Harlan interjected. “What time should I be there?”

She stared at him, disbelieving. Talk about not reading people’s silent cues… “I really don’t have anything in the house to cook.”

“You have bread and cheese? A grilled cheese sandwich sounds fine.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, not buying it. For one thing, a man his size would never be fine with a grilled cheese sandwich unless it was wrapped around a steak. And for another, she could tell he was still suspicious of her decision to bypass the checkpoint, despite her explanation. “Mr. McClain-”

“I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here, Ms. Giordano, and considering we have to work together for the next little while, we probably shouldn’t let that continue. Don’t you agree?” His voice softened, his drawl coming out to play a little more. “I’m not going to tell the governor about this. I reckon you’ve got to do whatever you can to keep all those balls you’re juggling in the air.”

Relief rippled through her. “Thank you.”

“I do need to go over a few things with you-get a copy of the guest list you’re working up so we can vet everyone. I’ll also need to know your plans for the physical layout-what rooms you’re going to use, where we can set up security.”

“Of course.”

“I’d just as soon get that started tonight rather than waiting for later-we shouldn’t have taken today off.”

She hadn’t taken the day off, but she wasn’t about to point out that fact to him. “So you’re serious about dinner?”

“Yeah, but I was sort of lying about grilled cheese being okay. Why don’t I pick up something at Talk of the Town? I work with the owner’s fiancé-maybe I can get a deal.” He grinned.

“Mr. McClain, did you know that quarter horses are called that because they were bred for running quarter-mile races?” Zachary asked.

“I did,” Harlan answered, turning to smile at Zachary.

Zachary grinned back, making Stacy’s heart contract. “I knew you would.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re wearing a horse.”

Harlan looked down at the logo on the left breast of his golf shirt. “Well, what do you know. I am.”

“Did you know that quarter horses were first called quarter-mile horses?” Zachary asked.

“Now, that I didn’t know.”

“I have a book. You can borrow it.” Zachary moved closer, gazing up at Harlan with a look Stacy was coming to recognize as trouble waiting to happen. He was definitely developing a crush on Harlan McClain.

And that was bound to be nothing but trouble for Stacy.

“Thanks, Zachary. I might take you up on that.” Harlan turned to Stacy. “Is seven okay for dinner?”

Now was her chance to back out, she thought. But he’d more or less suggested the dinner would be a business meeting, too, so she could hardly say no, could she?

She swallowed a sigh, overwhelmed with the growing certainty that she was racing headlong into one big mess. “Sure. Seven is fine.”

She grabbed Zachary’s hand and started walking down the road toward the checkpoint. Harlan caught up with them. “I’ll get you through the checkpoint without having to sign out.”

She flashed a grateful smile, but inside, her stomach was turning flips, especially when his hand brushed her back as he guided her toward the checkpoint.

Maybe Zachary wasn’t the only one forming a crush.