âWould you mind hanging out with Jake after school?â
Royce started pacing.
âRoyce?â Katy asked.
âIâm here. Just checking my calendar.â
More like stalling for time.
In the past he would have avoided getting tangled up in Katyâs problems. But that was before he woke up in a hospital room unable to recognise his own son because the kid had grown into a man when Royce wasnât looking. Though heâd failed Michael, maybe he could help out Jake. It was only one day, after all.
âYeah, I guess I can to it.â
âYou donât sound too sure. I really shouldnât have asked. My mum can probably take time off work.â
Clearing his throat, he said, âIâm sure. No big deal.â
But it was a big deal. Anyone who knew him well would have been downright amazed.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With two teenage sons, two dogs and three cats, Carrie Weaver often feels she lives in a state called Chaos (not to be confused with Dysfunction Junction, a place sheâs visited only once or twice). Her books reflect real life and real love, with all the ups, downs and emotion involved, and in 2006 she was a finalist for the Romance Writers of Americaâs prestigious RITA>® Award.
Dear Reader,
I wanted Royce McIntyreâs experience in Temporary Nanny to reflect an injury with which our military troops could relate. My goal was to provide hope during times of trauma.
On the surface, Royceâs life doesnât resemble that of a soldier. But he triumphs through challenges a wounded soldier might face.
Katy Garner is a single mother struggling to maintain a career and be the best mum possible. Royce is perhaps the last person on earth sheâd initially choose to care for her precious ten-year-old son. But soon she realises thereâs more to Royce than meets the eye.
I hope you enjoy Royce and Katyâs story!
Yours in reading,
Carrie Weaver
www.carrieweaver.com
Carrie loves to hear from readers through her website or by snail mail at PO Box 6045, Chandler, AZ 85246-6045, USA.
For my mother, Mary Ellen. Love ya lots, Mum!
Iâd like to thank Jack Swanson for graciously providing a glimpse into the life of an expatriate in Russia. Any errors are strictly mine.
Russia
IT WAS A WELDERâS worst nightmare: the odor of gas.
Royce started diving for cover a split second before the force of the explosion knocked him flat.
Thatâs when things began moving in slow motion. Debris rained down on him in waves distorted by the lens of his welding helmet. He grunted as jagged metal tore his flesh. The sound of his coworkersâ shouts was muffled by the ringing in his ears.
Dimitri ran to his side and yelled something in Russian.
Hang on. Or the Russian equivalent.
Royce tried to respond, but merely groaned.
Dimitri grasped his right hand, telling him it was going to be okay. But on some level, Royce understood it would never be okay again.
He tried to grasp Dimitriâs shoulder, but his fingers wouldnât cooperate. Blinking blood from his eyes, Royce focused. Mangled tissue hung from the wrist where his left hand had once been.
A blessed numbness chased away the pain, but chills racked his body. Then darkness descended.
But not before the irony struck him.
Damn.
His ex-wife had been right. He would die chasing an elusive dream.
CHAPTER ONE
Phoenix, Arizona Six months later
ROYCE FUMBLED with his keys. Things came harder these days, even those he was accustomed to doing with one hand.
âYouâre sure youâre up to living alone? Youâre welcome to stay in the guesthouse.â His sister, Becca, pushed her honey-blond bangs out of her eyes. Even nearing forty, she reminded him of an exuberant cheerleader.
âAbsolutely not. Youâve turned your life upside down for me long enough.â He silenced her protest with a pointed look.
At last, he maneuvered the key into the lock. He turned the knob, opened the door and gestured expansively with his good hand. His only hand. âMy palace awaits.â
She strode inside and crossed her arms. âThis apartment looks exactly like what it is. A furnished place to hide out and feel sorry for yourself. You need a home. You need my home.â
âLike hell I do. Itâs about as restful as Grand Central Station. There are kids and pets and old people all over the place.â
âThose old people are my in-laws and theyâre very sweet. My kids can be a pain in the rear, but theyâll grow on you.â
He couldnât allow her to see how tempting he really found her offer. Wife, mother, businesswoman, caretakerâthe last thing she needed was her injured brother taking up space with the rest of her strays.
Touching her arm, he said, âI appreciate the invitation. Really. But I need to do this on my own.â
âSo why not get an apartment close to me? Or close to Dad in Florida?â
âDadâs started a new life with Evelyn. He spent enough time raising us, he deserves this second chance. Anyway, Phoenix was home before I started the expat life. Maybe I can figure some stuff out here. Besides, you know, the old McIntyre stubbornness.â