The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets

“Eventually they did,” David chimed in as he stepped into the room and immediately lifted the baby from the crib into his arms.

Ida’s face lit up with love for her son. “Yes, they did. They were both grown with families of their own and living in Little Horn. We decided to sell our old ranch and move nearer to them. And so here we are.”

“Yep, here we are.” David stole a quick glance at Caroline before turning back to Ida. “I took our lunch off the stove, but I think it was too late to save it.”

“Oh, no! I completely forgot I had something on the stove when I came up here. Maggie could have gotten burned.” Ida shook her head in dismay when David tried to reassure her. “No. It isn’t fine. I can’t believe I did that. It’s just that I don’t know if I’m going or coming these days.”

It was obvious that David’s mother was overtired and in need of a break. Caroline stepped forward to take the drowsy baby. “Why don’t I take the triplets for a little while?”

Ida looked relieved. “Would you mind? I really do need to figure out what I’m going to do for lunch.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Caroline carefully laid the baby in the crib.

Ida sighed. “Thank you, dear. I’ve tried rocking them, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good.”

“Are they sick?”

“No.” Ida handed Caroline the baby with the little green booties. “They aren’t sleeping. Not on any kind of schedule anyway. I think that’s what has them so fussy.”

Caroline held the sweet weight close to her chest. “Well, I can understand that. I’d feel grumpy, too, if I was in their shoes.”

“Louisa—she cared for the triplets before us—said they like to sleep touching each other, but when I put them down, one will inevitably start moving around and awaken the others. I’ve done everything I know how to do—rocking, pacing, singing and praying. We need to put them back on their schedule. They need their naps.”

“Caroline and I will work on it, Ma. You go on and do what you need to do.”

“Thank you.” Ida gave them both grateful looks before hurrying out of the room.

David whispered, “Thanks for helping out, Caroline. Hey, I can’t tell. Is this one sleeping?”

She met the baby’s large brown eyes. “Not even close.” She laughed at David’s small groan. “How on earth did you end up caring for triplets?”

His brow furrowed into serious lines as he told the story, and that as a member of the Lone Star Cowboy League, he felt he should step up to care for the triplets. His answer was short, succinct, to the point and hardly revealing.

“What made you offer to take them in?”

He shrugged. “I felt responsible. After all, I encouraged the league to keep the boys together. Splitting them up into different homes would have made it easier for the community to help them. You heard my story from Ma. I was separated from my brothers for most of my life. We’re reunited now, but we can’t get those years back. They’re gone. I didn’t want these little ones to go through that.”

“That’s beautiful, David.”

He gave her a quick smile. “Well, I don’t know about that, but it was the right thing to do. Of that, I’m absolutely certain. Unfortunately, it hasn’t been easy—especially now that they no longer have a nanny.”

She frowned in confusion. “Oh? What happened to the nanny?”

“Pa!” A little girl yelled from downstairs. “Pa, come quick! I think I killed somebody!”

Their eyes caught and widened simultaneously. David tensed. Caroline jerked her head toward the door. “Go. I’ll handle the triplets.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to lower the baby into the crib and rush out the door.

Chapter Three (#u8f3ff10c-0215-5668-8f60-d56f37867ba8)

There was no way Maggie could have killed someone—leastwise, not on purpose. Even so, someone might need help. Right now that person was his daughter. As soon as he descended the stairs, Maggie launched herself into his arms. He caught her close. Over her shoulder, he exchanged a worried look with his mother, who stood at the kitchen door holding a scouring pad and a burned pot. David shifted Maggie in his arms so that he could see her face. She looked downright terrified. “What happened?”

“I spooked a lady’s horse. It ran off with her. She was barely hanging on. She probably fell off and died like Ma did.”

He glanced at his mother. They both knew this wasn’t anything like the way Maggie’s mother had died. Laura’s horse hadn’t bolted. It had tripped because Laura had been galloping through the night in a storm—running away with another man. Of course, David couldn’t tell Maggie that. He hoped she’d never find out, either. Better that she think Laura’s death had simply been a tragic accident than that her mother had been willing to abandon both of them.

Tears filled Maggie’s eyes. “Oh, Pa, I killed her.”

“Baby, you didn’t kill anyone. That lady is alive. I found her myself.”

She searched his face. “You did? She is?”

“Yes, and she’s fine. A little shaken and scratched, but fine. In fact, she’s upstairs right now.”

“Oh.” Maggie’s blue eyes widened. “Is she mad?”

Caroline hadn’t seemed angry when she’d mentioned the boy darting across her path, but she hadn’t known then that boy was actually his daughter. He’d had a vague suspicion it might be, since the incident had taken place near his property. The part about the dog had thrown him off because they didn’t have a dog for Maggie to be chasing after. He’d have to talk to her about staying clear of strays. First things first, he needed to deal with the task at hand. “I’m not sure, honey. I don’t think so, but—”

She began to wriggle. “Can you put me down now, Pa? I’ve got to apologize.”

“Of course.” He set her down and exchanged a look with Ma—one that was a mix of relief, concern and pride. Then he followed Maggie up the stairs. He really hoped Caroline’s reaction would be appropriate to the occasion. After all, this truly had been an accident. Maggie certainly should have been more careful, but there were rarely ever any riders in those woods for her to look out for.

Maggie tugged at his wrist. She placed a finger over her lips, then whispered, “Listen.”

The simple melody of “Hush, Little Baby” drifted down the hall. The soprano was bright and warm and pure. Yet its tone was so soft and soothing that he could feel the tension easing from his shoulders. Maggie moved stealthily toward the partially open nursery room door. She leaned against the doorjamb, her head cocked as she listened with a look of wonder.

He quietly stepped up behind her to peer inside. The yellow curtains infused the room with warm, muted light, outlining Caroline’s willowy figure as she swayed in time to the song with a babe in her arms. She gently laid the child in the crib, lingering until the boy settled onto his stomach. She stilled. Her lashes slowly lifted until her gaze met David. She’d felt his stare. That much was obvious. He ought to look away. He had every intention of doing so when a tendril from her mussed chignon broke free to swing near her lips. His hand landed on Maggie’s shoulder to ground himself in the reality of his life rather than the vision before him.

Caroline’s soulful gaze mercifully lowered to Maggie. With a single sweeping glance, she seemed to take in the chopped-off caramel curls beneath Maggie’s hat, her dirt-smudged cheeks and, most condemning of all, the collared shirt and worn pants Maggie had begged off her seemingly endless supply of boy cousins. Caroline’s eyes lit with realization. Her mouth fell open slightly, then curved into a smile. She winked, which prompted an answering bashful smile from Maggie before the girl ducked her head.

Caroline finished her song, then tiptoed toward them. They moved out of the doorway so she could exit. She closed the door behind them softly and tipped her head to prompt them farther down the hall. Once they were out of hearing range of the triplets, she knelt in front of Maggie and gently caught hold of the girl’s arm. “Are you all right?”

Maggie must have been holding her breath, because she let it out in a rush. “I’m fine. Are you? I thought I killed you.”

“I’m right as rain. Even if I had been hurt, you shouldn’t have blamed yourself. We scared each other. That’s all.”

“What about your horse?”

Caroline sent a questioning look to David over Maggie’s shoulder. The palomino had seemed fine to him when he’d sent his men after it. “She looked fine to me, but I’m sure my men are making sure of that as we speak.”

Caroline squeezed Maggie’s arm lightly. “And what about your dog?”

“We don’t have a dog,” David volunteered.

Maggie bit her lip and glanced down at the floor.

He narrowed his eyes. His voice turned half questioning, half warning. “Maggie, we don’t have a dog.”