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.”
“The Colemans’ dog had puppies. They came by this morning to see if we wanted one. I did. Grandma said I could.”
David pulled in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.
“I named him Duke. He’s really cute. I left him tied to the porch. He’s probably lonely now. I should go get him.” She paused to give Caroline a quick hug. “I’m sorry for scaring your horse, and I’m glad you’re not dead, Miss...”
The woman recovered from her surprise to return the hug. “Caroline.”
“Miss Caroline.” Maggie raced down the stairs and out the front door.
Caroline stood with a smile. “There’s never a dull moment around here, is there?”
“You have no idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair, then remembered why he’d brought Caroline home to begin with. “Let’s get those scratches cleaned up.”
He led the way to the kitchen, where his mother looked up from her second attempt at lunch. “I take it Maggie didn’t kill anyone?”
Caroline laughed. “No. Thankfully, everyone is fine.”
“Good.” Ida smiled at her. “You mentioned your name was Caroline Murray. Are you any relation to Matthew Murray?”
“I’m his sister.”
“How lovely! Matthew told me that one of his sisters was getting married. You must tell me about her wedding.”
“Oh.” Caroline’s gaze darted to David’s, then back to his mother. “Matthew and I have no other siblings. I was the one getting married—only, I didn’t get married, so...”
Seeing the curiosity on Ida’s face, David opened the nearest cabinet. “Ma, where’s that stuff you put on Maggie’s cuts? Caroline hit a fence when the horse threw her and has a few scrapes that need cleaning.”
“It’s two cabinet doors over.”
“Found it.” He grabbed the supplies he needed. “Have a seat, Caroline. I’ll help you out, since my ma is busy.”
If her grateful smile was any indication, Caroline knew he was trying to distract his mother. The searching look Ida sent him said she knew it, too. Caroline sat on the bench at the kitchen table, so David straddled a spot beside her. As soon as he touched her arm he realized he probably shouldn’t have taken this task upon himself. It wasn’t the same as doctoring up Maggie. Not at all.
Seeking a distraction, he cleared his throat and pinned his watchful mother with a look. “I don’t recall agreeing to let Maggie have a dog.”
“I don’t recall you saying she couldn’t have one.”
The skin around Caroline’s scrape turned red, which meant the cleanser was working and likely smarting. He blew on it gently. She tensed. He glanced up at her, but she was staring at the floor near his boot.