A Family-to-Be
After fleeing to Little Horn, Texas, when she discovered her fiancé was a con man, Caroline Murray agrees to act as the temporary nanny for her brother’s handsome neighbor. Though caring for David McKay’s daughter and the orphaned infant triplets he’s fostering is just a charitable gesture, she’s falling for the children and David. But if there’s one lesson Caroline won’t forget, it’s that her feelings can’t be trusted.
With children to care for and a ranch to run, David definitely needs help—though he doesn’t want a new wife. But his affection for Caroline runs deeper than mere appreciation of her skills as a nanny. She was only supposed to be a temporary solution, but will Caroline find a permanent place in David’s heart?
“Why can’t Miss Caroline be our nanny?”
All the grown-ups froze. David’s eyebrow lifted. Had his darling daughter just said “our nanny,” as in she’d consider herself one of Caroline’s charges?
Caroline’s lashes fluttered as she recovered from her surprise. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t.”
Maggie’s eyes clouded. “Why not?”
“Well, I’m not going to be here very long, for one thing. For another, I’ve never been a nanny before.”
“Maybe not,” Ida interjected. “But you certainly seem to have a way with the triplets.”
“Ma, Miss Murray is here to visit her family, not work for ours.”
“Of course we wouldn’t want to impose, Caroline, but your family would be welcome to visit here as often as they want.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Caroline’s gaze landed on his, soft as a butterfly, filled with questions.
Did he want her to help them? The answer was an irrevocable no. Did he need her help? Ida’s meaningful glare said yes. When he remained silent, she prompted, “We sure could use your help. Couldn’t we, David?”
He swallowed hard. “There’s no denying that.”
* * *
Lone Star Cowboy League: Multiple Blessings
The Rancher’s Surprise Triplets—
Linda Ford, April 2017
The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets—
Noelle Marchand, May 2017
The Bride’s Matchmaking Triplets—
Regina Scott, June 2017
Noelle Marchand is a native Houstonian living out her childhood dream of being a writer. She graduated summa cum laude from Houston Baptist University in 2012, earning a bachelor’s degree in mass communications and speech communications. She loves exploring new books and new cities. When she’s not scribbling out her latest manuscript, you may find her pursuing one of her other passions—music, dance, history and classic movies.
Books by Noelle Marchand
Love Inspired Historical
Lone Star Cowboy League: Multiple Blessings
The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets
Bachelor List Matches
The Texan’s Inherited Family
The Texan’s Courtship Lessons
The Texan’s Engagement Agreement
Unlawfully Wedded Bride
The Runaway Bride
A Texas-Made Match
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NOELLE
MARCHAND
The Nanny’s
Temporary Triplets
For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him.
—Philippians 2:13
Special thanks to everyone involved in the creation of the Lone Star Cowboy League: Multiple Blessings series, especially Linda Ford, Regina Scott and Elizabeth Mazer!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Her Cherokee Groom by Valerie Hansen
Chapter One
Austin, Texas
July 1896
“By the power vested in me by God and the state of Texas—”
“Stop this wedding!”
Everything around Caroline Murray seemed to blur. Yet she was more aware than she’d ever been. Time fractured until it was made up of nothing more than tiny details. Seemingly insignificant, she could still feel their indelible stamp on her soul.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the church, spilling a bizarre assortment of colors onto her pure-white gown. Her hands were clasped in her groom’s. His grip held hers tighter and tighter. So tight now that it was almost painful, not unlike the ring he’d placed on her finger only moments ago that had somehow been forged a size too small.
None of that mattered now because through the dreamy tinge of her veil she watched another woman march down the aisle with a baby in her arms and righteous indignation on her drawn features. Caroline turned back to her groom in confusion, waiting for him to take charge. She saw panic flash across his face before his dashing smile faded to a scowl. Yet he didn’t breathe a word. It seemed she would have to be the one to deal with the stranger who’d brought their wedding to a halt.
It was silent. Too silent with more than two hundred people in the chapel. Even the baby, with his eerily familiar eyes, stared at her without a sound. Somehow Caroline found her voice. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Compassion filled the eyes of the woman who surveyed her. “My name is Lucette Calabrese.”
“She is my sister,” Nico Calabrese asserted as if his strong Italian features bore any resemblance to the delicate ones of the woman who spoke with the inflections of the French.
Lucette closed her eyes and winced. “No. I am his wife.”
Caroline recoiled. “What?”
Lucette bounced the baby in her arms slightly. “This is our son.”
“Caroline, don’t believe her.” Nico’s dark, pleading eyes captured Caroline’s. “She is a crazy woman who follows me from town to town. She is obsessed with my career, my music, my voice.”
“Nico is right. I am crazy...for following him from city to city, standing by as he wastes the money he earns at the gambling table, then makes up for it by seducing unsuspecting women out of their fortunes.” Lucette lifted her chin. “But no longer. I am going home to France. His music, career and voice do not enchant me in the least. I came here today because I could not let him ruin another life the way he has ruined mine.”
Nico finally released Caroline’s hands. “How can you say these things?”
Lucette ignored him. “He will take your dowry and leave you after the honeymoon. That is his plan. Save yourself and your virtue while you can.”
With that, Lucette turned on her heel and walked out of the church. Nico swallowed hard. Turning back to Caroline, he asked, “Do you believe her?”
Her heart screamed no, b
ut her head silenced it. A kaleidoscope of memories paraded through her mind. Their romance had been a fairy tale from the start. They’d met through her parents’ connections in the crème de la crème of Austin’s music society. He was everything they had always wanted for her and exactly what she’d wanted for herself: educated, well-traveled and, most important of all, musical. His skill at the piano wasn’t particularly anything to brag about, especially in comparison to her father’s, but then Lawrence Murray had been a world-renowned pianist from the age of eight.
Nico’s voice, however, was the epitome of what a classical tenor should be. His control over it was astounding, his lyrical phrasing impeccable. He put new shadow, light, vibrancy into melodies she’d heard hundreds of times before and made them exciting again.
Her parents loved him. He’d become the musical son they’d never had. So much so that she’d been glad her tone-deaf brother, Matthew, had been too preoccupied with his cattle and growing family in Little Horn, Texas, to see how they doted on Nico.
He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen and the only man to look beyond the influence and glamour of her parents’ lives to notice her—the girl with a voice that was pretty, but not nearly strong enough to match her mother’s mezzosoprano or to even make it onto the stage. Embarrassingly enough, Caroline had little else to recommend her. Why else would her father have set aside such an obscene amount of money for her dowry, then discreetly make it public knowledge?
Nico had told her the money didn’t matter to him. He loved her for who she was. In return he was destined to be her first and only love. Their romance was going to be able to meet the standard set by the tender tomes of her parents’ love story. At the very least, it was meant to rival her brother’s idyllic one. And it had.
Until now.
Maybe that had been the problem. All of it had been too good to be true. So much a fairy tale that it well and truly was only that—fiction.
She pulled in a deep breath, locked eyes with the man she’d just pledged her life to and suddenly felt dirty, soiled. Anger burned within her so hot and deep that it couldn’t rise to the surface. She pushed it away, clinging instead to the protective numbness. “Yes, Nico. I believe your wife.”
His shoulders sank, but he offered an irascible half smile and tweaked her nose in that familiar way of his. “It was fun while it lasted. Arrivederci, my sweet.”
She cringed away, but he was too busy rushing out the door to notice. It closed with a bang loud enough to startle some sense into her. She turned to her parents and their guests. “Wait. Shouldn’t someone arrest him for something?”
A few laughs punctuated the shocked silence as a few justice-minded men bolted off in pursuit. Caroline took advantage of the general confusion that followed to slip out the side door into the harsh sunlight. She shoved her veil out of the way and hugged her arms around her waist. Wincing as the door opened behind her, she turned with a glare that softened at the sight of her brother.
Matthew didn’t say anything at first. He just searched her face in concern. Finally, he ran his fingers through his blond hair and pleaded, “Carrie, let me take you away from here until all this blows over.”
“Where would we go?”
“To my ranch.”
A laugh escaped her. “In Little and Worn?”
His scowl lacked any real bite. “You know the town is named Little Horn.”
She offered him a faint smile. “I know.”
He caught her arm gently. “Come with me. Get away from the city. The country is beautiful, Caroline. The sky goes on forever. It’s the kind of place that puts everything in perspective. Emma and I would love to spend time with you. You could go riding, let loose without worrying about what society thinks of you.”
As though on cue, guests started exiting from the front of the church. They walked in groups with their heads together. No doubt already gossiping about what they’d seen. Who could blame them? If she’d been a guest at such a wedding, she’d talk about it, too. The gossip in Austin was going to be unbearable for the next few weeks. Besides that, she and Nico had made memories all over town.
Someone spotted her. The society reporter from Austin’s most widely read newspaper. He veered her way. Caroline tensed. Her voice came out kind of wobbly. “Matt, get me out of here.”
Within minutes she was in the carriage beside her brother and sister-in-law. They went back to their parents’ house, where Caroline changed into her traveling clothes. Her trunks were already packed. Having said goodbye to her parents at the church, Caroline was on a train headed toward Little Horn in less than an hour.
Relief filled her as the train lumbered into the station at Little Horn after what felt like an eternity. Soon she would be tucked away at her brother’s ranch, where she might be provided some modicum of privacy.
As they stepped onto the train platform, Emma placed a hand on her rounded stomach. “I hate to say this, but the baby and my stomach are both doing flips. I think I need to eat something now before it gets any worse.”
Matthew placed a comforting hand on his wife’s back. “We’ll stop at the café before we head home.”
Caroline realized she should be ravenous. She’d been too nervous to eat before the ceremony and had had nothing since. Yet food didn’t interest her, and she wasn’t sure she could hold her emotions together long enough to eat an entire meal at the café. A hand reached through the fog to give hers a light squeeze. Caroline met her sister-in-law’s understanding gaze. “Would you like to take a walk first and meet us there when you’re ready?”
“Yes,” Caroline agreed almost desperately even as Matthew protested.
Emma ignored her husband. “Go right ahead, Caroline. The church is around the corner and across the street. You might be able to find some privacy there.”
“Thank you.” Caroline wasted no time in finding the church, but she stopped just shy of entering. She followed the walkway between the church and what seemed to be the parsonage, hoping it might lead exactly where it did. The path opened into a small sort of...well, park would a generous term. It was really just a field. Though the wildflowers and grass were all but dried up, the space was blessedly empty.
A few tall live oaks provided refuge from the sun. She sank to her knees at the base of one. She opened her hand to stare at the small gold wedding band she’d carried all this way. She should have thrown it out. Yet when she’d removed the silly thing, she’d been unable to let it go.
Now it gleamed in the bright Texas sun, mocking her, berating her, teasing her with the reality of what her situation might have been had she gone through with the wedding. Not the roses, cake and laughter she’d expected, but robbery, ruination, abandonment. Closing her eyes, she clenched her hand and let the metal bite into her fingers. “How could I be so utterly stupid? So ridiculously foolish? How did I not suspect anything?”
She lowered her head to bury her fingers in her hair and fought against the tears filling her eyes. The sound of approaching footsteps made her still. She stared through blurry eyes at the man who’d stopped some distance away. He removed his hat in a gesture of respect, then went down on one knee as though purposefully making himself smaller. His broad shoulders and muscled form could be deemed intimidating. Yet there was no mistaking the gentleness or concern in his drawl. “Ma’am, I don’t mean to intrude, but I couldn’t pass by without asking. Are you all right? I mean, are you sick? Should I get a doctor?”
A doctor would be of no help to her. Still, it was a sweet gesture. A wobbly smile tilted her lips. “No, thank you.”
There was a moment of silence. He was probably trying to figure out what to do next. Was there a polite way to ask him to leave? There had to be.
She blinked several times to clear her vision. Everything blurry came back into focus. He was handsome. So handsome that the gentle dismissal she plan
ned to deliver died even as her lips parted to speak.
She wanted to look away, but his gaze held hers in place. More than that, it seemed to peer deep inside, where he had no business being. Then something flickered in his eyes. Recognition. Kindness. An odd feeling of kinship stretched between them as if he understood her pain and, in his own way, had felt it, too.
This time there was no question in his voice. “You are hurt.”
She wanted to deny it, but her heart wouldn’t listen. The ache in her chest reopened, becoming a chasm too wide to run from. Her tears would no longer be denied or controlled. They flooded her cheeks. Sobs broke free, along with more shame and self-recrimination than she’d ever felt before. She no longer cared that she had an audience. What was one more person when so many had already witnessed her humiliation?
* * *
David McKay wasn’t afraid of a woman’s tears. His late wife had been a crier. Anytime he’d disagreed with her or displayed the slightest displeasure over her wandering eye, she’d cried until he turned to putty in her hands. That had lasted until his mother had oh so casually mentioned she’d heard Laura instructing a friend on how to make herself cry. After that, he’d let Laura cry as often as she wanted. She’d eventually realized her tears wouldn’t sway him and saved her energy for other ways to torment him.
Then his pa had been fatally gored by a longhorn. Nothing David did could stop his mother’s tears. All he could do was offer a shoulder and a handkerchief to mop up her tears when she was done. She’d gone on and on to her friends about what a comfort her son had been in her grief. That was when he’d learned a secret about women strange enough to boggle any man’s mind. They wanted to cry. The sooner a fellow let them do it, the sooner they’d stop on their own accord.
Of course, the difference was that the woman crying now was a complete stranger to him...and a beautiful one at that. Yet he couldn’t leave a woman crying in the dirt without trying to offer at least a little comfort. He approached her as he would an injured heifer, hoping not to frighten her. She didn’t seem to care one way or the other. She just kept crying in heartbreaking sobs that shook her whole body.
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