The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets. Noelle Marchand

      The two exchanged a look rife with meaning before the boy answered for them. “My name is Gil. This is my sister, Jo.”

      “Do you two have a last name?”

      “Satler.”

      Oh. The Satler siblings. He’d never met the pair, but he’d heard enough about them to make sympathy stir in his chest. Their widowed mother had died recently, leaving them orphans. The last David had heard they’d been taken in by some friends of their family who lived in town. However, that didn’t explain what they were doing way out here by themselves.

      “It’s nice to meet you both. What brings you to these parts?”

      “We’re out for a ride, sir.”

      “I see.” That sounded innocent enough, but they had the same look on their faces that he saw on Maggie’s whenever she had something to hide. “Do your guardians know you’re out here by yourselves?”

      Gil shrugged. “Don’t reckon they much care, sir.”

      “Hmm.” David hoped that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t help taking a closer look at the pair for signs of neglect. They were both a mite thin. Otherwise, they appeared to be well taken care of. Sometimes appearances only went surface deep, though.

      Jo poked her brother in the ribs, loosening his tongue a bit more. “I mean, they let us do what we like so long as we stay out of trouble and make it back in time for supper.”

      Jo nudged the mule’s side again. This time the mule picked up speed. Gil waved. “We’ve got to go now, Mr. McKay. Don’t want to miss supper. Bye!”

      David watched them take the turnoff toward town and shook his head. It was a shame that the Satlers didn’t feel cared about at home. David had every intention of following up with their guardians to see if there was anything he could do to help support the siblings. Even so, he wished there was something more he could do for them. Something like what exactly? Take them into his home? He’d expanded the former Windy Diamond homestead into the ranch house it was today. Even after adding a second floor with three bedrooms, the McKay house was full up to the rafters. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He could ask Maggie to share her room or he could clear out the study, which operated as his business office. But he was already struggling to care for the children under his protection now.

      The sad fact was he simply couldn’t take in every orphan in the county—no matter how much he might want to. No matter how much they needed a home and not just a transient one, either, but a permanent place where they could grow up or stay until they found new families.

      “Wait a minute,” David whispered to the quiet woods. “That’s it. That’s the answer.”

      A children’s home would provide the town’s orphans a permanent place to stay where they knew they would be safe and cared for. It was the perfect solution. Not just for the children, either, but for him. He wouldn’t need a nanny. He wouldn’t need a wife. Not if the children had a permanent place to stay. Selfishness aside, the children needed this, too. The triplets needed stability. The other children in the community, children like the Satlers, should have a place to go where they knew they would be cared about. This was the perfect solution. He simply needed to develop it more.

      He said a quick hello to his family when he entered the house, then all but locked himself in his study to do just that. Once he ran out of ideas, he switched his focus to pinning down the feed order. Before he knew it, his mother was calling him for supper. He took one look at the table and asked, “Ma, did you find the table leaf?”

      She shook her head. “I’m still looking. Sit down, son. Supper is getting cold.”

      He hesitated only a second, then took his seat. Maggie extended her hand to him. Caroline’s fingers slid across his palm to rest in his grasp. He stole a quick glance at her only to find her watching him expectantly—just like everyone else.

      Grace. He was supposed to be saying grace. Clearing his throat, he kept his prayer brief and released Caroline’s hand even faster once it was over. No romantic entangles. Not even the merest possibility of one. That was what he’d said. That was what he’d meant. End of story.