Книга - A Dad for Her Twins

A Dad for Her Twins
Lois Richer


The Cowboy's New FamilyWidow Abby McDonald is pregnant with twins, suddenly homeless and has nowhere to go. When her late husband's army buddy offers her a temporary haven at his family ranch in Buffalo Gap, Abby accepts the handsome cowboy's hospitality. She knows that Cade Lebret, an honorable man with a complicated life on the Double L, is just "doing the right thing." But when a needy foster child joins their makeshift family, Abby begins to see what a kind, loving father figure Cade is. Suddenly she's dreaming of making the Lebret family ranch her home forever.Family Ties: Bundles of joy bring couples together.Family Ties flash to comeWidow Abby McDonald is pregnant with twins, suddenly homeless and has nowhere to go. When her late husband's army buddy offers her a temporary haven at his family ranch in Buffalo Gap, Abby accepts the handsome cowboy's hospitality. She knows that Cade Lebret, an honorable man with a complicated life on the Double L, is just "doing the right thing." But when a needy foster child joins their makeshift family, Abby begins to see what a kind, loving father figure Cade is. Suddenly she's dreaming of making the Lebret family ranch her home forever.Family Ties: Bundles of joy bring couples together.







The Cowboy’s New Family

Widow Abby McDonald is pregnant with twins, suddenly homeless and has nowhere to go. When her late husband’s army buddy offers her a temporary haven at his family ranch in Buffalo Gap, Abby accepts the handsome cowboy’s hospitality. She knows that Cade Lebret, an honorable man with a complicated life on the Double L, is just “doing the right thing.” But when a needy foster child joins their makeshift family, Abby begins to see what a kind, loving father figure Cade is. Suddenly she’s dreaming of making the Lebret family ranch her home forever.



Family Ties: Bundles of joy bring couples together.


“I don’t have a home for my babies,” Abby whispered.

“I have nowhere to go, no money,” she continued, shaking her head.

Though a whisper, the words echoed around the empty room. Cade stared at her in disbelief, everything in him protesting.

Promise me that you’ll be there if ever Abby needs you, Cade, his best friend had said to him.

I promise, Cade had assured him.

Now Abby was a widow—and needed him.

Cade sucked oxygen into his starved lungs, pressed his lips together and muttered, “Okay, buddy.”

“What?” Abby stared at him, frowning.

Cade hefted the two boxes containing everything she owned into his arms and carried them outside to his truck. When he returned Abby was still standing where he’d left her, frowning. She watched him, that faint glimmer of confusion lingering in her eyes. Her defiance had withered away, leaving her small, huddled and, he sensed, very afraid. No way could he leave her like that.

Cade picked up her coat and gently helped her into it.

“What are you doing, Cade?”

“Say your goodbyes, Abby.” He fastened the top two buttons of her coat before moving his hands to her shoulders and gently squeezing. “You’re coming with me.”


LOIS RICHER loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, loisricher@yahoo.com.


A Dad

for Her Twins

Lois Richer






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


But the person who trusts in the Lord will be blessed. The Lord will show him that he can be trusted. He will be strong, like a tree planted near water that sends its roots by a stream. It is not afraid when the days are hot; its leaves are always green. It does not worry in a year when no rain comes; it always produces fruit.

—Jeremiah 17:7–8


Contents

Cover (#u3fb0824b-e226-59c7-b7a2-e6315d60c26c)

Back Cover Text (#u9c48ee07-fc95-5d86-bc3b-9ca3752f568b)

Introduction (#ue1bf42ef-8544-51ff-ba8a-ec892e841b21)

About the Author (#u3ccc79d1-2c43-538f-be62-6348363f0bc7)

Title Page (#u181c649c-130c-5cc7-916f-213265c39df3)

Bible Verse (#uc27790cc-0302-5c47-bd43-1b2a9401c372)

Chapter One (#ulink_3c0813c9-de54-5665-8f9b-50dd4fa551b5)

Chapter Two (#ulink_4730863d-77d6-58aa-8937-64eb49f57835)

Chapter Three (#ulink_e6acc81a-a2a3-52f2-ac6d-68d46742c7cc)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_e4b5406a-b1d7-517c-b05e-f993afa9b8e0)

Cade Lebret wished he had a woman with him as he steered his truck through the tiny Canadian town of Buffalo Gap, Alberta. Maybe then the locals on coffee row would talk about her instead of him. But romance was never going to be part of his life again because he wasn’t the type women loved, at least not with a forever kind of love.

So he drove through town, staring steadfastly ahead, ignoring the curious stares of bystanders, knowing exactly what they’d say to each other over at Brewsters, the local coffee shop.

Guess who I saw today? Cade Lebret. Remember how his old man always chewed him out? Chewed me out, too, more than once. Nasty temper that Ed Lebret. Poor Cade.

For as long as Cade could remember, he’d hated being “poor Cade.” So now he came to Buffalo Gap only when necessary, did his business and left fast to avoid the sympathy the townsfolk had showered on him for most of his thirty-one years. They all thought his father’s vitriolic outbursts had ended when his dad had a stroke.

Cade’s lips tightened. Even loss of speech and paralysis hadn’t stopped the simmering disapproval in his father’s eyes or his constantly accusing glare. It made for a trying life at the Double L. But Cade had promised he’d stay until he’d turned the ranch’s red ink to black and he wouldn’t renege on his promise, though it was proving to be extremely difficult to keep his word.

Thankfully Cade wasn’t stopping in Buffalo Gap today. His business was in a cemetery outside Calgary and it wasn’t the kind of business that could be rushed.

Having escaped the town limits, Cade hit the accelerator. His truck’s powerful engine ate up the highway, easily pushing back arctic gusts of January air that swept through the valley nestled in the foothills of the Rockies. He flicked the heater up a notch but in spite of the warmth pouring out, Cade shivered. Hot, sunny days were the only thing he missed about Afghanistan.

Well, the heat and Max—Maxwell McDonald, the best friend Cade ever had. Max with his exuberant laughter; Max who found joy in a desert sandstorm. Max who’d once saved Cade’s life, then lost his own over five months ago on a mission that Cade had refused to accept. He’d received a hardship discharge because of his father’s strokes, and despite the military’s offer of a one-time premium payout, he couldn’t go back. The big fee showed how badly they wanted his specialized skill set of breaching enemy defenses. He could have used that money, but not enough to suppress his fear of dying in that war-torn country. Finally they’d accepted his refusal and Max had left without him.

Memories of past missions braided with guilt in Cade’s head for the entire half-hour drive. Why hadn’t he just gone? Why hadn’t he been there for his best buddy? Why was he such a weakling? By the time he pulled into the winding road of the cemetery and made his way to where Max’s grave marker thrust out of the snow, a familiar anger festered inside.

Why Max, God? Why not me?

The question died in his throat at the sight of a small, huddled form kneeling beside his grave. Abby, Max’s wife.

Cade hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her. But the winter afternoon light was already fading because he’d been later than planned getting away from the ranch. Now there were clouds forming in the west, suggesting his drive home might be stormy. He waited several minutes, then switched off his truck, grabbed his gloves and stepped down, following small, feminine footprints through deep drifts of snow. Gasping sobs made him stop just behind the diminutive brunette.

Feeling like an intruder, Cade fiddled with his hands. He should have left this morning’s fence mending till tomorrow. If he’d arrived earlier he could have avoided Abby.

“I failed, Max. I’ve failed so badly.” Her weeping wrenched at Cade’s heart. He almost decided to go away until she finished her private mourning, but changed his mind when the wind whipped snow around them and she shivered.

“Abby? Are you okay?”

She twisted her head to look at him.

“Hi, Cade.” She forced a smile, but her pale skin, sunken eyes and too-prominent cheekbones shocked him. She looked nothing like the full-of-life beauty Max had loved, but then she wouldn’t. Almost six months ago she’d lost the man she’d been married to for four short months. She swiped a hand over her cheek to erase the tears. “It was nice of you to come. He would have liked that.”

Her awkwardness when she tried to stand surprised him. Cade reached out a hand to lend support, then gulped hard when she rose. Abby McDonald was very pregnant.

“I didn’t know—” He stopped, swallowing the rest of his comment.

“You couldn’t,” she excused him with a faint smile.

“I should have called you.” Guilt ate at Cade. He hadn’t visited her since the week after the funeral because seeing her roused a tickle of envy. Why hadn’t he ever met someone like Max’s Abby? Someone to love?

“Cade?” She’d obviously said something he hadn’t heard. “I’m all right.”

“That doesn’t excuse me. Max would have wanted me to make sure you were.” He watched as she placed a tender hand on her abdomen and smoothed circles. “Is everything okay?”

“With the babies? Yes.” She sounded guarded, which bothered Cade until his brain clicked in.

“Babies?” he gasped. “As in more than one?”

“Twins.” Her glance slid to the gravestone and her smile seemed to drain away.

“Congratulations. When are you due?” Though he felt awkward asking something so personal, Cade was determined to make up for his neglect. Ensuring Max’s beloved Abby was all right was the very least he owed his friend.

His conscience reminded him that it couldn’t make up for the guilt of not accompanying Max on that last mission, the one that had cost his buddy his life. Cade should have been there to protect him.

“The babies will arrive in three months, give or take.” Abby’s black calf-length coat didn’t fit around her bulk. She dragged on the lapels, trying to close the gap and shuddering as the January wind sucked at them. She didn’t look directly at him. That bothered Cade.

“It’s too cold for you out here.” He flicked his key fob to remote start his truck. “Let’s sit inside.”

“Ok-kay,” she stammered. She took one step toward him and slipped.

As Cade reached out to grab her, Abby fell forward into his arms. The breath squeezed from his lungs at the contact. He held her until she was stable but he couldn’t stop staring.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, her green eyes at his chin level. “I’m not as agile as I used to be.”

“No problem.” He tore his gaze free and drew her toward the truck, moving slowly, his hand firmly anchoring her. But when he threw open the door, Abby just stood there, looking from it to him helplessly. That’s when he realized she couldn’t manage the high step.

“Hang on.” Without asking permission, Cade scooped her into his arms and lifted her until both feet were on the truck step.

Abby gasped a thank-you before scooting inside the cab. As she drew off her gloves, Cade noticed their thin shabbiness. Her snow boots looked worn-out, too, the leather battered and nicked, the heels run-down. He remembered how her glossy brunette curls used to bounce with life. Now the lank strands were scraped back from her face and tied in a ponytail. The only color she wore was an emerald-green wool scarf twined around her neck. It matched her eyes.

Abby looked nothing like the vivacious blushing bride he remembered and yet he couldn’t keep from staring at her.

Cade closed her door and walked to the other side of his vehicle. He climbed into his truck, trying to imagine what could have caused such change. Not that Abby wasn’t beautiful. She would always possess the timeless lines and angles that neither time, worry nor age would ever diminish. But today she looked drained, careworn, and Cade had a hunch it wasn’t all due to her pregnancy. He cursed himself for not checking on her with more than a monthly phone call.

Cade had missed Max’s funeral because of his dad’s second stroke. To make up for his absence, he now visited the graveyard every month. He’d gone to see Abby twice, but she’d seemed so shattered during those times that Cade had made do with phone calls from then on, unwilling to interrupt her grieving. Now he realized he should have done more. He should have gone to visit Abby every time he came to town. She’d always said she was okay, but he should have made sure.

Of course, Cade had been preoccupied with the ranch, trying to wrest every acre of land and animal from the fiscal chaos his father had created. Abby had known his phone calls were only duty calls, even made light of them, teasing him about his commitment to Max. She kept insisting she was fine and Cade had accepted that because the one thing he didn’t need, didn’t want, was responsibility for something or someone else.

Judging by what he now saw, Abby was not fine.

She held her bare hands in front of the heating vents. He noticed with some surprise that the diamond solitaire and matching gold band Max had given her were absent from her pale ring finger. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes closed, as if she’d lost her last ounce of strength. Was her pregnancy so difficult?

“Max was such a good man.” Abby stared out the side window at her husband’s grave, then, after a moment, turned to look at him. “I know God directed his every move.” Pain wove through her words. “I can’t understand why he had to die.”

“I can’t, either.” Cade could do nothing about the bitter sound of those words. He’d been asking God that same question ever since a military buddy had called to tell him of Max’s death. “A whim of God, I guess.”

“Cade!” Abby’s eyes widened. “God doesn’t have whims. He has plans to prosper us and not to harm us.” A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I keep repeating that to myself when these little ones kick me in the ribs.”

“Do you need help with that? I mean, uh, someone to be there with you when—it, the babies come?” The personal questions seemed too intrusive. He and Abby were little more than strangers. The only thing they’d had in common was their love for Max.

Anyway, Cade had his hands full with the ranch and his father. He barely had a moment to call his own. Still, he wasn’t going to leave her like this. He needed to help her, somehow.

“I’m fine, really.” Abby turned again to look once more at Max’s grave. She sighed so deeply it seemed to sap all her energy. “I should get home. There’s supposed to be a storm tonight.”

“I didn’t see your car.” Cade glanced around. “Where’s it parked? I’ll drive you to it.”

“I sold my car a while ago, when I couldn’t fit behind the wheel anymore. I came here on the bus.” Her chin thrust up when he blinked at her in shock.

“But there aren’t any buses that come all the way out here! You must have walked miles.” He knew he was right when her green eyes suddenly swerved away from his. A spurt of anger bubbled inside him. “Should you be doing that, in your condition?”

“I’m pregnant, not disabled,” Abby said, her tone firm. “It’s good for me to walk.”

“But it’s so far and it’s cold out.” Cade clamped his lips together to stem his words when she shrank against the truck door. Arguing with her wouldn’t help. “You have to take care of yourself, Abby,” he said in softer tones. “Max would want that.”

“I’m fine, Cade. Truly. I just got a little chilled sitting there in the snow.” She laid her fingers on his arm and held them there until he looked at her. When she drew them away he felt somehow bereft. “I’m warm now. If you could drop me at the bus stop I’d appreciate it.” Her heart-shaped face with its dark widow’s peak looked forlorn.

Cade’s heart, hard and frozen cold inside him since Max’s death, thawed just the tiniest bit. He’d lost his best friend, but she had lost her husband, her life, her future.

“I’m not leaving you at a bus stop, Abby. I’ll take you home.”

“Oh.” She let out a pent-up breath, probably in relief. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Taken aback by her lack of argument, he pulled into the circular road that took them out of the cemetery and back into the city. Before turning onto the main freeway, he paused. “I don’t remember your address,” he admitted in embarrassment.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” There was nothing in her tone to accuse him but Cade felt guilty anyway. “It will be easier if I direct you,” she murmured. And she did.

By the time Cade pulled up in front of her tiny white bungalow, the afternoon sky glowered a dark, burgeoning gray. Snowflakes seemed imminent. The sidewalk to the front door had been shoveled clear, but there was nothing else to show that anyone lived here, no welcoming light on the front porch, no snowman lovingly created on the snow-covered front lawn, no leftover Christmas decorations waiting for removal. The place looked as forlorn as Abby.

“Stay put until I come around and help you out,” he ordered. “It’s icy. I don’t want you to fall.”

“Wait!” Abby grabbed his arm, her fingers tight, forcing him to pause. “I can manage. There’s no need for you to fuss, Cade,” she said in an almost desperate tone.

“I insist.” He held her stormy gaze with his, refusing to back down.

“Fine,” she finally conceded. “You can help me to the door if you must.” Her green eyes narrowed. “But that’s all. I’m sure you have things to do. You don’t have to babysit me and I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have. Just to the door,” she repeated.

During his five-year stint in the military, Cade had risen up the ranks of the Canadian Special Forces unit quickly. Much of that was due to internal radar that told him when things weren’t right. At the moment his personal detection system was on high alert. Something was definitely wrong with Abby. Her body was tight with tension. Clearly she did not want him inside her home.

Why? Though Cade was loath to cause her more stress, he owed it to Max to find out.

It felt good to lift Abby out of the truck and support her over the slippery sidewalk to the front door. As he did, Cade considered and discarded a hundred reasons she might not want him here but found nothing that would explain her oddly unwelcoming manner. He waited as she fished in her pocket for her key, wondering if she’d change her mind about him coming in. But she did not open the door. Instead she turned to face him, blocking the entry.

“Thank you for your help, Cade. I appreciate you remembering Max today. And I really want to thank you for the ride home.” A tiny smile danced across her lips. “I was tired.”

Cade didn’t move. Abby’s eyebrow arched.

“I can’t leave until I make sure you get safely inside.” Though she tossed him a frustrated look, Cade didn’t budge. “Want me to open the door for you?”

“No, I don’t. Thank you.” Her green eyes blazed at him for a few seconds more. Then with a harrumph that expressed everything from exasperation to frustration, Abby stabbed the key into the lock and twisted it. “See? Everything is fine. I’m fine. Thank you.”

Cade had never felt less certain that everything was fine. Maybe it was rude and pushy, but this was necessary. He reached past her and twisted the door handle while he nudged his booted toe against the door. Abby made a squeak of protest and grabbed for the doorknob. But it was too late.

“Abby?” He let his gaze travel twice around the empty interior before returning to her face. “Where’s your furniture? Where’s...anything?”

“I’m—er—moving,” she stammered. With a sigh she stepped inside and urged him in, too, before shutting out the cold air. “This place is too big for me. I’m moving out today.” Her chin thrust upward. Her voice grew defensive. “I’ve decided to make some changes.”

“Now?” Cade gaped at her in disbelief. “Three months before your due date?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe that. What’s really going on, Abby?”

She turned away from him to remove her coat and toss it over a packing box. He wondered why, since the room was quite chilly. Confused and troubled, he waited for her answer, stunned when her narrow shoulders began to tremble. Her muffled sob broke the silence and made him feel like a bully.

“You need to sit down and relax,” he said with concern. But where could she sit? There was no furniture, nothing but a derelict wooden chair that looked as if the slightest whoosh of air would send it toppling over.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. But she wasn’t and they both knew it.

With his gut chiding him for not getting here sooner, and at a loss to know what to do now that he was, Cade gently laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“I just want to help, Abby. Please, tell me how.” He waited. When she didn’t respond he softened his voice. “I couldn’t help Max,” he murmured, his breath catching on the name. “I will always regret that. Please let me help you.”

Abby edged away from him, moved behind the kitchen counter and leaned one hip against it. In that moment her mask of control slid away and he saw fear vie with sadness.

“I’ve lost the house,” she whispered. “Our dear little house, the one Max and I bought together, the one we had such dreams for—I’ve lost it.”

“Lost it?” Cade frowned. “What happened? Why didn’t you come to me?” he demanded, aghast.

Abby’s head lifted. She pulled her hair free of the hair band, tossed back the muss of curls that now framed her face and glared at him.

“Come to you?” Her green eyes avoided his. “You dutifully phone me every so often like a good friend of Max’s would, and that is wonderful.” Her chin thrust out. “But even if I could have found you, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you wouldn’t have called me no matter what.” He blinked. “Why?”

“Because I’m managing, or at least, I thought I was.” Her chin dropped and so did her voice. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.”

The pathos combined with a lack of expression in her words told Cade he needed to act.

“Do you have any coffee—or tea?” he revised, thinking that in her condition she probably didn’t drink coffee. “Or have you packed everything?”

“I used up the last of the groceries. Everything I own is in those two boxes over there.” Abby pointed. “That’s what’s left of my life.” She looked around. “I sold the rest because I needed the money.”

Cade knew how that felt. He’d come home to find the ranch hugely in debt because of his father’s mismanagement. Only recently had he begun to crawl out. But how had Abby gotten in that condition? A second later he decided it didn’t matter. The petite woman with the bowed shoulders and exhausted face touched a spot deep inside his heart. There was no way he could leave her to manage on her own.

“Tell me what happened so I can help,” he coaxed softly.

“You can’t. The bank has foreclosed on the house. If I’m not gone by six today, they have a sheriff coming who will come forcibly move me out.” Her breath snagged but she regrouped and finished, saying, “I’ve done everything I can to make things work. But they don’t work.”

“Abby.” Someone else needed him. He wanted to turn and run away from the responsibility but then he looked at her, and her amazing green eyes clutched onto his heart and refused to let go. How could he leave her alone?

“I’m homeless, Cade.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t have a home for Max’s babies. I may have to give them up.”

Though a whisper, the words echoed around the empty room. Cade stared at her in disbelief, everything in him protesting.

“You can’t,” he finally sputtered.

“I might have no choice.”

Something flickered in the depths of Abby’s amazing eyes. Hope? In him? “A friend of mine will let me camp on her couch but she’s no better off than me and I can’t stay there long. She’s moving, too.”

Promise me that you’ll be there if ever Abby needs you, Cade.

I promise, Max.

Cade sucked oxygen into his starved lungs, pressed his lips together and muttered, “Okay, buddy.”

“What?” Abby stared at him frowning.

Cade ignored her, walked to the corner, hefted the two boxes into his arms and carried them outside to his truck. When he returned, Abby was still standing where he’d left her, frowning. She watched him, that faint glimmer of hope draining out of her eyes. Her defiance had withered away, leaving her small, huddled and, he sensed, very afraid. No way could he leave her like that.

Cade picked up her coat and gently helped her into it.

“What are you doing, Cade?”

“Say your goodbyes, Abby.” He fastened the top two buttons of her coat before moving his hands to her shoulders and gently squeezing. “We’re leaving.”

“To go where?” She eased free of his hands. Her eyes searched his for answers.

“We’ll talk about that after lunch. I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t be long.” Cade pulled the warped front door closed on his way out, guessing it was another of the projects Max had planned for this old house.

As Cade stood on the doorstep waiting for Abby, his mind tied itself in knots. What was he to do with her? He had no money to give her, he knew no one in the city with room to take her, and he was fairly certain she wouldn’t stay with a stranger in Buffalo Gap.

He thought about what Abby had said earlier about God having a plan.

“Would You mind clueing me in?” he muttered. “Because I haven’t got any idea how to help Max’s wife. A little divine intervention sure would come in handy.”

Past prayers hadn’t brought many answers for Cade. As he waited for Abby, today didn’t seem any different. The only solution he could think of was to take Abby back to the ranch, and Lord knew how that would turn out.

Putting a delicate pregnant widow under the same roof as his bitter, angry father? That was asking for trouble. But what choice did he have?

Cade figured that with Abby at the ranch, he’d be calling on God, a lot.

* * *

From the moment Max had introduced his best friend, Abby had realized that Cade, like Max, was a man who seized control. Today she was going to sit back and let him.

What else could she do?

She’d prayed so hard. She’d trusted and waited and prayed. Now she’d run out of options. Maybe Cade was God’s answer to her prayers. If Max’s buddy could think of a way to help her out of this mess, she’d grab it with thanks because she’d used up all the options she could think of and she was too tired to do anything more.

Aware of Cade’s presence just outside the door, Abby pressed her knuckled fist against her lips to muffle her sob of loss. A memory of Max’s booming voice echoed through her mind.

This is our home. You and I together will make it so.

Only it never had been. From the first day of their impetuous marriage she’d known something was wrong between them. Max had been generous, loving and kind but he’d never really let her get truly close, never let her help when the night terrors woke him or a sound made him startle. Too late, Abby had realized that Max had chosen her because she was safe; he’d called her his refuge. She’d stayed with him because she’d promised to love him forever and Abby, the missionary’s daughter, could not break that promise.

Stiffening her shoulders, Abby walked through the rooms as fragments of memories flooded her mind. The windowpanes she’d scrubbed free of paint. The old wooden floors they’d refinished. The mounds of wallpaper they’d raced to remove. But memories were a blessing and a curse, so finally she returned to the front door, shoulders back, exhaling the past. She’d cried enough over her failure to be what Max needed. Whatever solution Cade offered, it had to be better than the misery and fear she’d endured here since Max’s death.

“Goodbye, Max,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I failed to love you the way you needed. I know it was my fault. I’m not the kind of woman you should have married. I didn’t have enough strength to force you to get the help you should have had. If I had, maybe you would have retired or opted out of Special Forces into some other branch of service instead of going on that mission to Afghanistan. Maybe then you wouldn’t have died.”

She gulped, swallowing the last of her regrets because there was nothing she could change now.

“I won’t make that mistake again, Max. I’ll focus on loving our babies. Maybe then I can make up for failing you.” Then she walked out to meet Cade.

“Ready?” He waited for her nod, his face implacable. “Let’s go, then.”

He closed and locked the front door. But this time when he scooped her up and set her inside the truck, Abby was prepared. Even so, her breath caught when his face loomed mere inches from hers and his breath feathered over her cheeks. She told herself her reaction was purely hormonal, that she’d missed that kind of male strength.

Abby composed herself as Cade drove her to a warm, homey restaurant with tantalizing aromas that made her stomach growl. Relieved he’d asked for a table instead of a booth where she wouldn’t fit, Abby snuggled a mug of steaming peppermint tea in her palms as they waited for their food order to arrive.

“I know Max didn’t have any family left but he never told me much about you, Abby. Do you have family?” Cade asked.

“None that I know of.” She smiled at his questioning look. “I was three when I was adopted. My parents were older, very strict and the most loving people I’ve ever known. I adored them. To me they’re my true parents. I never wanted or needed anyone else. I guess that’s why I never felt compelled to discover my birth history.”

“I see.” Cade sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Your adoptive parents are gone now?” His brows drew together when she nodded. “So there’s no one you can contact for help?”

“I’m afraid not.” Warmth rose at the concern Abby saw on his face. How wonderful it felt to have someone worry about her, even for a moment. “I’m not your problem, Cade. I’ll figure out something.” As if she hadn’t tried. He didn’t need to know that, although he’d probably guessed she was out of options.

“Max said you were a social worker.”

“I am.” Abby leaned back, closed her eyes and smiled. “The day I learned in third grade that not every kid had parents like mine was the day I decided I was going to be the one to help kids find the best parents they could. It’s a job I love. I’d still be doing it, too, if the government hadn’t cut back and laid me off.”

Abby could feel his sympathy, could see it in the softening of his baby-blue eyes. The rancher was big and comfortable and—nice, she decided, choosing the simple word. Cade was genuinely nice.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry, too,” she said, trying to disguise the sourness that sometimes bubbled inside. “There aren’t any less children who need help. And there are even fewer workers to handle all the cases. But—” She shrugged. “What can I do? I was out of work and I couldn’t find another job, no matter how hard I looked.”

“And then you learned you were pregnant.” Cade looked straight at her. “That must have been a frightening time, to be alone, without a job, knowing you’re going to have twins. I wish you’d told me when I called. I would have come to help you, you know.”

“I do know.” Touched, she reached out to brush his hand with her fingers, to comfort him. “But I felt I had to handle things on my own.”

Abby’s heart melted as she watched Cade helplessly rake a hand through his very short black hair. His lean, chiseled face had lost some of its harshness, though the lines around his eyes and full lips remained and the cleft in his chin deepened with his frown.

“It’s okay, Cade,” she murmured.

“It isn’t okay at all. Max would never have allowed you to handle this alone.” His voice tightened, dropped to a low growl. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Abby.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just a problem I have to figure out.” She was glad their server brought their meals just then. Maybe eating would ease the strain that was building and help them both avoid awkward, useless moments of regret. She scrounged up a smile. “I haven’t had a turkey dinner in aeons,” she said, licking rich gravy off her fork.

“Christmas wasn’t that long ago.” Cade paused, lifted his head and stared at her. His pupils widened. “You didn’t have Christmas dinner, did you?” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, Abby.”

She’d made him feel guilty again. She knew because she carried her own load. But she didn’t want Cade’s guilt. So what did she want? Because Abby didn’t want to explore that thought she set down her fork and reassured him.

“Actually I did have Christmas dinner, Cade. I’ve been volunteering at a kids’ shelter and they served a lovely meal.” She chuckled. “But I didn’t have much time to enjoy it.”

“Why?” Cade crunched on a pickle as he waited for her to explain.

“One of the kids ran away, so we went looking for her.” Abby liked the way Cade chewed slowly, appreciating the nuances of flavor in his food. “Searching took most of the day. By the time we found her, I was too tired to eat. Anyway, everything was cold.”

She picked up her fork and chose a square of dark meat. Fork midway to her mouth, she blinked and paused, suddenly uneasy under his scrutiny. “What?”

“Can I ask you something?” He waited for her nod, forehead furrowed, his left hand, the one lying on the table, clenching and unclenching. “You spoke of giving up Max’s, er, your babies?”

Abby swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.

“But—you can’t!” he protested, his voice sounding loud in the almost-deserted dining room. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened into a grim line as he spoke in a lowered tone. “Abby, you cannot possibly be considering giving away Max’s children!”

“Do you think I want to?” she gasped as tears welled. “These are my children, part of me.” She set down her fork, no longer hungry. Emotions rose through her like a tidal wave but she forced them back in the struggle to make him understand. “These children are the most precious thing in my life. I would do anything, anything—” she emphasized “—to give them the best life they can possibly have.”

“Then why in the world—”

“The best life,” she repeated softly through the tears filling her throat. “Max’s children deserve that. But homelessness, lack of money, a life on the street—that is not the best life for them. Yet, at the moment, that’s all I can offer them.” She shook her head. “No child deserves that. I have to at least consider foster care.”

“Lack of money?” he said, honing in on her words. “But won’t Max’s military benefits cover everything you need?”

“I haven’t received any.”

“What?” Cade stared at her in disbelief. He shook his head. “Why?”

“The military says he never informed them he was married, never filled out the forms. He was also behind on paying his insurance premiums, probably because of the down payment we made on the house,” she said with a sad smile.

“But it’s been months since—” Cade clamped his lips together.

“Since he died, I know.” She sighed. “I sent them a copy of our marriage license, but they say that until they are able to verify its authenticity or legality or something, I can’t receive any funds. That’s why I didn’t have enough to pay the mortgage or power bills or...” Tears erupted in a flow Abby couldn’t staunch. She bent her head and let them fall, ashamed of her weakness but utterly weary of fighting.

Cade fell silent. After she regained control, Abby peeked through her lashes and found him staring at her, his blue eyes brimming with anger or perhaps disbelief? When he opened his mouth, his voice emerged in a squeak of protest that Abby shushed by reaching across and grabbing his clenched fist.

“It’s true,” she assured him.

“I know you’re not lying, Abby.” He drew his hand away as if he didn’t like her touching him. He leaned back and thought it over for several moments, then jerked his head in a nod. “It’s just that I never heard of the military withholding benefits when...”

“Well, that’s what they’ve done.” Abby sighed. “I think it might kill me to give up my babies, even for a short time,” she told him. “But I have to face the facts, and that’s a choice I might have to make if I can’t give them a home, food, safety. I have no intention of failing my children.” As I did Max.

Cade studied her for several long minutes. She knew something had changed when his broad shoulders went back and determination welled up in his blue eyes. He reached across the table, his hand closing around hers, squeezing tightly. Abby could only stare at him as the rough calluses on his skin brushed hers and wonder what the rush of emotions across his handsome face meant.

Was Cade God’s answer to her prayers?

“You have another choice, Abby,” he said in a clear, firm voice. “You can come to the ranch and stay until the babies are born. There’s plenty of room. Mrs. Swanson, our housekeeper, will be on hand if you need anything. You won’t have to lift a finger. You can rest and give the babies a rest, too. Stay as long as you need to get back on your feet.” His blue eyes locked with hers and held.

“But I can’t pay you,” she whispered.

“I don’t want anything,” Cade said in a brisk but firm voice. He stopped, shook his head. “Actually I do,” he corrected himself. “I want you to wait until Max’s children are born, to take some time before you make your decision about your future and theirs. Okay?”

Abby couldn’t believe it. God had sent her a place to stay, to wait for her babies’ arrival without fearing someone would hassle her about her bills, moving and everything else she’d been fighting. A little window of hope, that’s what Cade was offering. All she had to do was accept.

And yet, there was something in the depths of his kindly eyes, something that tugged at one corner of his mouth—something that made her stomach tighten with worry.

“What aren’t you saying, Cade?” she murmured.

Shutters flipped down over his eyes. He eased his hand from hers and leaned back, his big body tense.

“Come to the ranch, Abby. It’s better if you see the way things are for yourself. Then you can decide whether or not you want to stay.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Okay?”

Abby sat silent, thinking. God had opened this door, she knew it.

Max had trusted Cade with his life.

Maybe she was being weak by accepting this opportunity. Max would have expected her to handle her life without revealing that he’d left her unprotected. If he’d known she was pregnant he wouldn’t have left, but on the day she’d kissed him goodbye, the morning after she’d comforted him through a terrible nightmare, he went back to active duty in Afghanistan without knowing he was going to be a father. Neither of them had known what the future held.

She had no alternative but to accept Cade’s offer, just until the babies were born. Then she’d get on with her life, alone except for her babies.

“I’m ready,” she told him. “Let’s go to the Double L.”


Chapter Two (#ulink_9ca5cc28-5cae-51db-8826-3e6982ca9aec)

“You don’t have to do this, Cade. I’ll find another way. I’ll figure out something.” Abby’s voice broke through the silence that had reigned since they’d left the city behind. “There’s no need for you to put yourself out like this.”

Abby’s words drew Cade from his morose contemplation. He suddenly realized she thought his silence meant that he didn’t want her at his home.

“What other solution do you have in mind?” He drove silently, waiting for her response with undiluted curiosity.

“I could sleep on my friend’s couch while I think of the next step.” Those green eyes of hers squinted at him with defiance. “Isaiah 62:7 says, ‘Put God in remembrance of His promises.’”

“Uh, okay,” he said, clueless as to her meaning.

“It means that if I keep praying, I know that eventually He will give me an answer.”

“Until He does, maybe this is His answer—coming to my place, I mean.” Cade didn’t actually believe that, but Abby’s certainty that God would help her intrigued him. He’d never known anyone so confident in God.

“It’s not His answer if it’s going to put you out or make things difficult in your home.”

“Things are already difficult in my home.” The words burst out of him. As soon as they were said he wished he could retract them but, of course, Abby’s curiosity was obviously pricked.

“What do you mean?” she asked with a frown.

How to explain? Cade tossed around several responses. There was no easy way to say this.

“I got leave from the military because my father had a stroke and couldn’t run the ranch himself. In fact, he was on the verge of bankruptcy.” Cade licked his lips, mentally framing his explanation. “The day of Max’s funeral, Dad had a second stroke. That’s why I wasn’t there.”

“I heard.” She blinked and nodded. “Go on.”

“The stroke not only paralyzed him and took away his speech, but it left him locked inside his anger.”

“Anyone would get frustrated in such a condition,” Abby murmured.

“Trust me, he was frustrated long before he had a stroke,” Cade muttered. “My father is a very angry man. He’s been that way for as long as I can remember. It’s my fault. He hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” Abby gasped. “I’m sure your father doesn’t hate you.”

A faint smile twisted Cade’s lips. Max was the only other person he’d told his life story to and he’d shown the same reaction.

“He hates me because I killed my mother.” Why did the knowledge still hurt so much? “She died giving birth to me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Abby’s hand touched his shoulder, then fluttered away. Her voice dropped. “But even so—it can’t be true. You must have confused something. He probably got so caught up in his own pain and didn’t know how—”

“No.” Cade heard the sharpness in his own voice, felt his jaw tighten. “You can’t romanticize it, Abby. Even if he was decimated by grief, it’s been over thirty years and his attitude toward me hasn’t changed one iota. His anger and the way he took it out on me for my entire life is the reason I left home and joined the military.”

He swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say. His fingers gripped the steering wheel as he turned off the highway and into Buffalo Gap. It struck him that he’d received his wish. A woman now sat beside him. The rumor mill would be rampant with speculation.

Cade with a woman? He hasn’t brought anyone to the Double L since that woman, Alice, and Ed chased her off pretty quick.

Again Cade pretended he didn’t see the curious stares. He drove stoically through the small town.

Cade didn’t get involved in Buffalo Gap. He didn’t have time for it. The constant mental battles with his father left him beaten and worn down, as did the challenge of constantly avoiding another misstep that would take the ranch to financial ruin. He didn’t have time to socialize with the townsfolk.

Max had told him once that women could sense the anger festering inside him and so they steered clear of him. Cade now knew that was true. In his life he thought he’d loved only two women and both of them had dumped him after a visit to the ranch. Cade had blamed his father’s anger and rudeness, but he knew the truth; he simply wasn’t the kind of man women cared for. He lacked the softness that having a mother would have given him. Now Cade no longer wanted the complication of romance in his already uncomfortable world.

But with sudden awareness, he now realized that to expect Abby to endure the simmering discontent of his father was a bad idea. She said she had a little more than three months to go before the twins were due; three months in which she should be pampered and soothed to prepare for delivery. Cade was no expert on human birth, of course, but he’d helped deliver hundreds of calves and about the same number of colts, and he knew giving birth was hard work for any mom.

“Cade?” The softly voiced query drew his attention to Abby. “I don’t have to stay on your ranch. I could go to my friend’s or a shelter, if that would be better for you. I don’t want to cause you problems.”

“You can’t stay in a shelter. Max would never have allowed it and neither will I.” Admiration for her pluck drove off the brooding that always enveloped him when he thought of his father. Cade focused instead on the small woman in the opposite seat.

“But I need to prepare you for what you’ll find. And I want to ask you to, as much as possible, avoid my father. He’s very unhappy with the way I’ve been managing the ranch and with the decisions I’ve made. He refuses to work at his physiotherapy. He often won’t eat the meals our housekeeper, Mrs. Swanson, prepares. He deliberately knocks things over and bangs his cane against anything to express his anger.”

“Oh, the poor man.” Abby’s eyes welled with tears. For some reason that made Cade very angry.

“He’s not a poor man. He’s unhappy, as he’s always been, and he’s trying to make everyone else feel the same.” Cade had to force his fingers to relax on the steering wheel as he drove the gravel road toward the ranch. “I have only one rule for your stay on the Double L, Abby. You must avoid my father. I won’t risk anything happening to you or to Max’s babies.”

Abby’s eyes widened before she turned to look out the window. Cade hated the worry he’d glimpsed there, but he was issuing the warning for her sake.

“Maybe I should go somewhere else—” she began.

“I’ve made you afraid.” He cut off whatever else she’d been going to say, mentally stewing over his lack of subtlety. “Don’t be afraid, Abby. Physically, you will be perfectly safe at the ranch.” He used the gentlest voice he could muster but mostly Cade was out of touch with gentleness.

“But you said—”

“My father has never deliberately physically harmed Mrs. Swanson or me. He uses words instead.” Cade pushed ahead with his confession. “His negative state can be very depressing. I don’t want you to be depressed or unhappy. For that reason I want you to avoid him, as much for your sake as for his.”

Cade pulled up in front of the big white farmhouse that had been home for his entire life. He switched off the truck. Then he turned to look at Abby. She returned his stare, her clear gaze direct and unflinching. Her hands smoothed over her bulging stomach in a protective shield before she spoke.

“I’m here as your guest, Cade. I’ll do whatever you ask. I don’t want to cause any problems for you or your father.” She smiled and Cade noticed the faint trace of dimples in her cheeks. “I’ll try not to be a bother to anyone.”

“You could never be that, Abby. Just be advised. Don’t expect a nice, kindly old man. He’s not.”

Clearly she didn’t believe him. Abby was sweet and good, everything he’d missed from life, everything he craved but couldn’t have. He tore his thoughts away from that thinking and turned his attention to the front window. His father sat there, watching. Cade knew the time for talking was past.

“Welcome to the Double L, Abby.” He climbed out of his truck, walked around to the other side and opened her door. “I’ll introduce you to my father and Mrs. Swanson. Then you can settle in.”

“Thank you.” She held out her hand so he could help her down, letting out a tiny squeal of surprise when he simply lifted her and set her on her feet on the snowy pebbled driveway. Her cheeks grew warm when she noticed surprise on the housekeeper’s face where she stood in the open doorway. His father was there now, too, his usual scowl deepening in disapproval.

Cade’s fingers curved around Abby’s arm. He knew she could feel the tension rippling through his body. Absently he noticed that his boots crunching on the stones made the only sound in the crisp winter air.

“Come in, the pair of you.” Mrs. Swanson’s round face beamed. She pulled his father’s wheelchair backward. Cade urged Abby forward so he could close the door behind them.

“Mrs. Swanson, Dad, this is Abby McDonald. She’s my friend Max’s wife. You remember Max? He used to visit when we had leave.” Cade’s voice tightened. He paused, then resumed speaking, this time in a firmer tone. “Abby’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Abby stepped forward, hand outstretched. It was obvious that she remembered too late that Cade had said his father was partially paralyzed. Both his hands lay in his lap. Abby bent, covered his fingers with hers and gently squeezed, smiling in spite of his fierce glare. Then she moved to the woman who stood next to Mr. Lebret’s chair. “Finally I meet the legendary Mrs. Swanson. Max talked a lot about your amazing apple pies.”

“Ah, the dear, dear lad.” Mrs. Swanson’s faint Scottish brogue died away as she sniffed. “’Tis sorry for your loss I am. Max was a good man. He’d wrap me in those gigantic arms of his and swing me around till I was dizzy.”

“Me, too,” Abby whispered with a watery smile.

“I think Cade brought him here to fatten him up. Never saw a man who could eat like your Max did and not gain an ounce.” She slid an arm around Abby’s waist and urged her forward. “Come, my dear. You’ve had a long drive. It’s tea you’ll be wanting to revive you.”

“Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

Cade almost laughed aloud at the expression on Abby’s face. She looked as though she was being swept along by a tidal wave.

“But I can make tea myself,” Abby protested. “I don’t want to be a bother. You don’t have to wait on me.”

“’Twould be my pleasure to care for Mr. Max’s wife and her wee bairn,” Mrs. Swanson assured her, patting Abby’s stomach gently.

“Bairns,” she corrected. “I’m having twins.”

“Well, glory be!” Mrs. Swanson chuckled again, then urged her forward.

Abby glanced back once, just in time, Cade knew, to see the word his father scrawled with a fat felt marker across a pad of paper lying on his lap.

No!

There was no subtlety in the stark, one-word comment. Cade met Abby’s gaze, saw the question in her eyes. He shook his head once firmly, then smiled, a tight, controlled twist of his lips. Anger tightened his shoulders. He spoke in a careful tone.

“You go with Mrs. Swanson, Abby. Dad and I will join you in the kitchen for tea in a minute.” When she hesitated, he nodded at her as if to reassure her.

After a second check of Cade’s face, Abby gave in. Judging by her expression, she understood he didn’t want her to overhear his discussion with his father. A wave of sympathy rolled through her vivid green eyes before she walked back to him, stood on her tiptoes and murmured for his ears alone, “Max always said you were the most caring man he’d ever known. He told me stories of how you encouraged and praised the men in your unit.” She touched his arm, squeezed. “Now I’ve witnessed your kindness for myself. You don’t have to shield me, Cade. I’m tough. I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Cade felt the warmth of her smile touch his cold heart, but as she and Mrs. Swanson left the room, the warmth faded. He chose his words carefully, using a measured voice to explain Abby’s situation to his father, leaving out the worst details and making generalizations that would save her embarrassment.

“She will stay for as long as she needs to. I owe Max that.”

His father glared at him, then shoved his pen in his shirt pocket.

Cade pushed his dad’s chair into the kitchen. As they drank Mrs. Swanson’s tea he thought how perfectly Abby fit in. It would be nice to have a friend like her. But when Abby teared up as she answered Mrs. Swanson’s questions about Max, Cade snapped back to reality. It was clear Abby wasn’t nearly over mourning his death.

Cade was pretty sure Abby wouldn’t want a friendship with him, not when he should have been there to protect her husband.

* * *

Nothing was going the way Cade hoped. As they sat around the dinner table, he appreciated Abby’s valiant efforts to make the meal enjoyable. She told them amusing stories, complimented Mrs. Swanson on everything she served and asked him questions about the ranch.

But through it all, his father sat at the head of the table, grim-faced, his fists clumping on the table when he was displeased, fingers clenching around his black felt marker to scroll a series of angry commands across his writing pad.

Cade was utterly embarrassed and deeply ashamed of his parent by the time the meal was finished. He could hardly wait for Mrs. Swanson to push his father’s chair to the television room so he could apologize to Abby for his father’s behavior.

“I’m so sorry,” he said when they were alone in the dining room. “I expected him to fuss about having you here, but—” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen him as full of rage as he seemed tonight. I apologize for his making you feel unwelcome. If you’d rather leave—”

“Stop apologizing for something you can’t change, Cade.” The twinkle in Abby’s green eyes surprised him as much as the smile twitching at the corner of her lips. “Anyway, I think tonight was good for him.”

“Good for—” He gaped at her. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Did you see the way he kept grabbing that pen and writing on the paper?” She spread her small, delicate hands wide. “You told me he hasn’t been doing his physiotherapy. But he was sure giving those fingers a workout tonight.” She rose, walked to the end of the table where his father had been sitting and gathered the scrunched-up pieces of paper from the floor. Then she laid them on the table, one by one on top of each other, looked at him and grinned. “See?”

Cade moved to stand beside her. He sifted through the sheets of paper, each with an angry word scrawled across it.

No! Won’t have it! Quiet! Stop. Some of the words were repeated. There were fourteen sheets in all. It was the biggest effort Cade had seen his father make since his stroke.

He lifted his head to stare at her, confused but somehow more lighthearted than he’d been in years.

“Maybe my being here isn’t so bad after all,” Abby said timidly, “if it forces your father to fight, and by that I mean put out some effort. Isn’t that good for him?”

“Abby, your being here isn’t bad at all. You bring lightness that’s been missing from this place for a long time.” As he said it, Cade realized the truth in his words. She’d been in his home only a few hours but already Abby made things seem bearable, though he wasn’t sure exactly how she did it. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly.

“I am, too.” Her lovely smile flashed at him. “Maybe God can use me to help you, as you’re helping me.”

“God again.” He frowned. It was a recurring theme with her.

“He’s part of my life, part of everything I do, part of every decision I make.” Abby tilted her head to one side and studied him. “I trust God.”

“Such unshakable faith. I wish I had it,” he said, and meant it.

“I don’t know that it’s unshakable,” she told him thoughtfully. “But you can have it. Faith is yours for the taking. In Ephesians 1:19 Paul prayed we would understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for those who believe. But the power is only activated when we believe, so that’s where I put my focus.”

A hundred questions buzzed through his head, but just then the doorbell rang. Cade glanced at his watch in surprise. It was late for visitors and highly unusual for anyone to just show up at the ranch. Abby followed him to the entry. Cade blinked when the town’s mayor, Marsha Grant, surged through the open door and shoved it closed behind her.

“Mayor Grant,” he said, taken aback as he always was by her forwardness.

“Good evening, Cade.” She smiled at him, then turned to Abby. “And you’re Mrs. McDonald, correct? Abby McDonald?”

“Yes.” Abby blinked and glanced at Cade, who shrugged. “How do you—”

“My daughter used to work with you. She saw you ride into town with Cade. She tells me you’re a social worker.” The mayor tilted back on her heeled boots. She removed her thick glasses, polished them with her vivid purple scarf and returned them to her face. “I’ll explain that later. I’m here about something else.”

“Would you like to come in? I can make a fresh pot of coffee.” Cade didn’t like the flicker of fear he saw cross Abby’s face. Perhaps she was in more trouble than he realized. His protective instincts pricked as his mind ran scenarios. Perhaps...

I trust God, Abby had said. Dare he do the same? But God hadn’t come through for Cade, not once in all the years he’d prayed for reconciliation with his dad.

“Can’t stay, thanks. Emergency.” Mayor Marsha’s short staccato sentences were simply the way she always spoke, but Cade interpreted Abby’s frown as concern.

“What kind of emergency?” he asked.

“You have acted as a child’s special advocate before, have you not?” Marsha focused on Abby, ignoring him.

“Yes,” Abby agreed. “But I haven’t been in social work for some months. I was laid off and—”

“Yes, yes,” the mayor said impatiently. “But your credentials are all active? You could return to work anytime you choose, correct?” Marsha’s stare was relentless.

“Yes, but I’m going to have twins in three months. I doubt anyone would hire me in this condition, especially knowing I’d soon be taking time off to be with my children.” Abby shook her head. “I doubt I can be much help to you.”

“Oh, yes you can.” Marsha chuckled. “You can be a very big help to me tonight, if Cade’s agreeable.” Finally she turned her attention back to him. “I have a situation.”

“Okay.” Cade pulled forward a small chair from near the entry door and urged Abby to sit. “We’re listening.” Her smile of thanks sent a feathering of warmth through him.

“There was a serious accident tonight,” Marsha explained. “Two people died, the parents of young Ivor Wynne, age ten. Buffalo Gap is his community, his home, the only place he’s ever known. But I’m afraid Children’s Protective Services will take him to a home in Calgary until next of kin can be contacted and decisions about his future made.” Mayor Marsha’s gray eyes grew steely. “Unless I can change their minds.”

“I’m so sorry,” Abby whispered.

Cade’s heart also contracted with sympathy. Poor kid.

“I will not have that child taken from here.” Marsha insisted. “I need someone who has the credentials, someone who knows what to do in these situations, to act for him so he doesn’t have to leave the only place he’s ever known as home.”

“You want Abby to be in charge of him?” Cade shook his head, irritated that she’d asked and more annoyed that Abby seemed to be considering it. “She can’t. She’s pregnant and tired. She needs to rest.”

“I could do it, Cade,” Abby said very quietly. “It wouldn’t be hard on me to help this boy through such desperate circumstances. But I’d want your agreement.”

“Mine?” He frowned. “Why?”

“Because he’d have to stay here. Unless you’d want me to take him somewhere else?” Abby’s big green eyes brimmed with compassion.

“But—this is a working ranch.” Cade gulped, desperate to avoid getting involved. He didn’t want another kid to experience his father’s vicious temper, to feel as stupid and useless as he had. He turned to Marsha. “This isn’t really a place for kids. Besides, my father is an invalid who needs constant care. Mrs. Swanson has her hands full. Who will look out for this boy when Abby needs to rest?”

“He’s ten, not an infant, Cade. But we can work all that out.” When Abby gazed up at him like that, Cade’s anger dissolved. “I trust God to help us,” she added quietly.

How could a guy argue with that?

“I’d like to know a little more about how your daughter knows Abby, that she’s a social worker.” He waited for Marsha’s response, grabbing at anything to stall the inevitable.

“My daughter visited me today for lunch. We were just coming out of the restaurant when you and Abby drove through town. My daughter waved but I guess neither of you noticed.” Marsha turned to Abby. “She used to work in your building. She said you even shared a few cases.” The mayor smiled at Abby’s surprise. “My daughter is Cindy Sharp. She’s in Legal Aid.”

“Cindy is your daughter?” Abby’s grin spread. “How is she? I always enjoyed working cases with her. She has such common sense.”

“She’s fine. Anyway, she’d just arrived back home in Calgary when she heard about the accident. I told her I wanted Ivor to stay in Buffalo Gap and she suggested you might help make that happen. Cindy says that when it comes to protecting kids, you’re like a tigress.” Marsha’s gaze held Abby’s. “That might be what I need to keep Ivor in this town.”

“Why is it so important he stay here?” Cade interrupted the knowing glance shared between the women.

“Aside from the fact that Buffalo Gap is Ivor’s home?” Marsha’s intense gaze shifted to him. Cade nodded. “We need him to stay because showing we have the wherewithal to handle these kind of challenges is one way of moving forward with an idea I’ve been hoping to initiate.”

Another of the mayor’s “ideas.” Cade had heard about many other impractical plans. He stifled his groan.

“I want us to open a placement plus adoption agency in Buffalo Gap,” Marsha said.

“Really?” Abby leaned forward and said in an eager voice, “Tell me about it.”

Marsha’s idea took a while to explain. Cade found another chair and set it so Marsha could be seated without having to remove her boots. Then he leaned his shoulder against the wall, waited and listened.

“Buffalo Gap is a small town and like most other small towns, we’re shrinking. We don’t have the economic base or the industry to draw people here. Besides, Calgary’s barely half an hour away. It’s nothing for folks to drive there and back for what they need.” Marsha paused. A twinkle lit her eyes when she smiled at Abby. “But we have two important assets—lots of land with lots of families.”

“I don’t see—” Cade paused when Abby interrupted.

“I think I do. Your town can offer foster homes for displaced kids with families who have lots of land for them to run free on, animals to care for and an atmosphere that offers respite from whatever the troubled kids might be suffering.” She said it thoughtfully while staring at some distant point. “On ranches like this one.” She turned her head to look at Cade. “It’s a marvelous idea,” she told him. Then she frowned at Marsha. “But I don’t get the adoption angle.”

“A small town has great connections. Everyone knows someone. A friend of mine used to run an adoption agency down east. She gave that up when she moved here to marry but she’s continued to help find homes for children. The difference is, she’s been doing it unofficially.”

“I see.” Abby nodded.

“It gets better.” Marsha leaned forward. “Recently, six separate couples have come to her asking for help to adopt a child because they heard about her success. So now she wants to open a formal adoption agency.”

Abby nibbled on her bottom lip as she listened. She looked so cute. Cade refocused.

“My friend’s husband died about eight months ago. She’s got the time and the money but she’s near retirement and doesn’t want the responsibility of opening an agency on her own,” Marsha explained. Her gaze narrowed on Abby. “You’d be a perfect partner.”

“Abby’s going to have twins,” Cade interjected without thinking. The words sounded silly even to him. He hadn’t really wanted to bring her here to the Double L but now that Abby was here, he didn’t want her to go?

“I’m not giving birth for a few months,” Abby said sharply with a sideways glare at him. “That doesn’t make me helpless in the meantime.”

“But—”

“Look, we can argue about my fragile state another time,” she said, cutting him off briskly. “The one to focus on now is Ivor. Can Marsha bring him here?”

All Cade had wanted was to help Max’s wife out of a tough situation. Even that was only meant to be a temporary solution. Now they were asking him to take on a grieving boy, too, to open his home to someone else who would witness his father’s hate toward his own son?

“Please let him come, Cade,” Abby whispered. She rose, walked toward him and grasped his hand in hers. “I’ll keep track of him. I promise he won’t go near your dad. I can help him. I know I can,” she said, her voice impassioned. “Please let me be useful again.”

How was he supposed to argue with that logic?

“He can come,” Cade said gruffly, too aware of Abby’s small hands still clutching his. “But only for as long as it takes to find him another home. This isn’t permanent—”

“Oh, thank you, Cade.” Abby flung her arms around him and hugged him. “Thank you for giving Ivor a chance.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said into her hair, his hands moving automatically around her waist. His nose twitched at her soft lilac scent.

“Ahem.” Marsha’s voice broke into his reverie.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Abby pulled away from Cade. She kept her eyes downcast but her cheeks were hot pink. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you.”

“You did.” He grinned when she peeked up at him through her lashes. “Very nicely, too.” Her eyes widened at his teasing tone, as if she didn’t expect him to have a sense of humor.

“So I’ll go get Ivor and bring him here,” Marsha asked, glancing from Cade to Abby, a question on her face. “Okay?”

Abby stared at Cade. “Okay?” she murmured.

Cade exhaled, straightened his shoulders and nodded.

“We’ll get a room ready for him. But he only stays as long as absolutely necessary,” he emphasized. “Agreed?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Marsha said. She rose, buttoned her coat and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Cade nodded, let her out and then closed the door behind her with a sigh.

“You’re doing the right thing, Cade. God will bless you for it,” Abby whispered.

He wasn’t sure about God or blessings, but he was pretty sure his dad would hate him for it.

Still, Cade mused as he walked with Abby chattering madly beside him, how could you possibly refuse a woman who wanted to help some hurting kid? Her sweetness, her gentleness, her care and concern were part of her nature. Those were only some of the things he liked most about Abby McDonald.

Maybe if he’d met a woman like Abby—

Cade immediately eradicated those thoughts. Romance wasn’t going to be part of his life. He didn’t have what it took to be a loving partner. And anyway, he wasn’t free to get involved, even if he wanted to. He had his father to think of and to plan a future for.

Cade was not going to let his heart get involved with anyone, but he was also determined never to end up bitter and angry like his dad. With Abby here, maybe that would get easier.


Chapter Three (#ulink_e64d5607-685a-598c-ba75-dc482681f7b2)

“You must have been starved,” Abby said, watching Ivor inhale the two sandwiches Mrs. Swanson had made for him. “Would you like something else? I don’t think Cade ate all of that delicious chocolate cake we had for dessert.”

She hadn’t finished saying it before Mrs. Swanson set a huge piece in front of the boy, patted his shoulder and clucked sympathetically. Then the housekeeper said good-night.

Cade sat on the other side of Ivor, nursing a mug of steaming coffee, broodingly silent. Abby saw his head jerk upward as the sound of his father’s motorized wheelchair drew near. Every muscle tense, Cade shoved to his feet, his eyes dark, his brows lowered. Abby thought the frown spoiled his very handsome face.

Thump! His father banged his cane on the tiled floor to gain attention as he glared at Ivor first, then Cade. Even after all these years his father still needed to look in control. Only difference was, now he used a cane to do it.

Who’s he? he scrawled on his notepad.

“Dad, this is Ivor. He’ll be staying with us for a while.” Cade leaned down and murmured something in Ed’s ear, then straightened. Ed glared at him, then reached out with his cane and nudged Ivor’s leg.

“Dad!” Cade’s cheeks flamed red. He grabbed at the cane but Ivor beat him to it.

“Is there a hidden point in this thing?” Ivor peered into the end. “I saw canes like those at the nursing home where my grandma used to live.” He let the cane drop. “She’s dead, too,” he mumbled before returning to his cake. But instead of eating it, now he just picked at it.

Much more gently this time, Ed poked his leg with the cane. When Ivor turned to look at him, Ed grinned and shook his head. No point, he scrawled on his sheet. Ivor grinned back.

Abby saw shock fill Cade’s face. He stared at his father, then turned his attention to Ivor, obviously puzzled by the unspoken communication the two were sharing.

“You should watch where you’re pointing that thing,” Ivor warned. “Someone might poke you with it.” Ed chuckled out loud. “Do you know how to play chess?”

Ed nodded vigorously.

“He’s very good at it,” Cade warned the boy. Abby knew he was trying to protect Ivor, that he feared his father would misbehave and somehow hurt the boy, not physically but mentally, the way she figured Cade must have been hurt.

“I’m pretty good at it, too,” Ivor bragged with ten-year-old bravado. The lost look on his face drained away. “Want to have a game?”

Ed jerked his head in a nod, beckoned to the boy and led the way out of the room. When they were gone, Cade turned to Abby.

“Maybe I should go with them, make sure everything’s okay,” he said, his voice halting, unsure. “I don’t want the kid to get hurt. Not that Dad would purposely hurt him, but he’s not very careful about feelings.”

“Let’s give them a chance.” Abby smiled. Under that veneer of gruffness, Cade was a big softie. “Do you have to go and care for your cattle tonight?” she asked to change the subject and to learn more about her new home.

“I have a hired man. He would have taken a couple of bales of hay to their pasture this afternoon,” Cade explained. “I’m sure he’s fed the horses, too.”

“Horses?” Abby gasped, staring at him, eyes wide. “You have horses?”

“Most ranches do,” he teased, one eyebrow arched. “Why?”

“I love horses.” Abby squeezed her eyes closed and silently whispered a thank-you to God. If she had to leave her precious little home, coming to a place with horses was the next best thing. “Can I see them?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, maybe not tonight.” His crooked smile teased her. “I’ll show you and Ivor around tomorrow. Do you—did you ride?” he asked. Abby noticed the way he glanced at her stomach, then slid away.

“Oh, goodness no,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t know the first thing about horses.”

“Then how can you love them?” Cade looked totally confused. The look was so cute on him.

“I’ve always been infatuated with horses.” She shrugged. She thought a moment, searching for a way to explain. “They’re so—pretty,” she finally managed.

“My horses are not pretty.” Cade snorted his indignation. “They’re strong, capable, well trained, but pretty? No.” He frowned at her. “You sound like a city girl.”

“I am a city girl.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. “You and Max share that same macho characteristic. He always teased that I was naive.” She sobered suddenly. “I guess I was naive,” she murmured, remembering how her husband’s romantic dreams had melted away in the face of his post-traumatic stress issues and how he’d refused to accept his illness.

She glanced up and found Cade watching her, a curious look on his face.

“Max had no idea of the ugliness I’ve seen through my work,” she said quickly. “City or country, ugliness always rears its head.”

Cade nodded but said nothing.

When the moment of silence her words brought had stretched too long, Abby cleared her throat. “What do you raise your horses for?”

“We sell ours for riding of all kinds, but rodeo stuff mostly. There are a lot of families in the area who are involved in 4-H.” Cade raised an eyebrow as if to ask if she knew what that was.

“4-H. A group for kids to learn skills,” she shot back with a grin, anxious to show her knowledge. “Lots of involvement in gymkhanas which means riding and training a horse and participating in judged events.”

“Very good.” Cade grinned back. She could tell he loved verbally sparring with her. “A lot of the dads around here buy their kids horses from me, which means they have to be broken and properly trained before the boy or girl ever gets on. We also dabble a little in pedigreed horses.”

“And the cattle?”

“Our cattle are Black Angus, raised strictly organic, prime Alberta beef. We also have a few pigs because I like ribs, a few dozen chickens because Mrs. Swanson likes her eggs fresh and natural, and some sheep who supply her with enough wool to knit her scarves and mitts for the street kids in Calgary.” A smile played at the corner of his lips. “We also get a few ducks and geese on the pond in the spring, the odd coyote or wolf after our cattle and some owls in the woods. That about covers the animals on the Double L.”

“Why is it called the Double L?” Abby asked. The moment she said it, she knew she shouldn’t have. A dark, brooding look filled Cade’s face.

“My great-grandfather homesteaded the land, then my grandfather and father.”

“And now it’s passed on to you,” she said with a bright smile, trying to understand his odd manner.

“For the time being,” Cade said, then pressed his lips together and stared at her.

“That’s nice,” Abby said. “After my parents died, I had to sell their place. They had some serious bills from the nursing home they stayed in.” She blinked when Cade suddenly jerked upright.

“Did your parents choose to go into the nursing home?” he asked in an intense tone.

“Yes.” She nodded. “It was the best option for them. I was at university and couldn’t always be there when they needed me. They both had mobility issues because of lung problems. In the nursing home they got the care and support they needed to enjoy their lives.” She couldn’t help wondering why he’d asked.

Cade said nothing but a raised eyebrow told her to continue.

“They served overseas in Africa when they were young and got some virus that affected their lungs,” she explained. “That’s why they eventually came home. But the virus never went away.”

“I’m sorry, Abby.” His hand brushed hers, then drew away.

“It’s okay. They were both strong in their faith. I know they’re in heaven, waiting to see me. It’s just—” She paused a moment, sucked in a breath of courage to chase away her sadness and summoned a smile for him. “I get lonely now with Max gone, too.”

A crash from the other room cut off whatever Cade had been going to say. They glanced at each other, then hurried to see what had happened. Abby could tell from Cade’s face that he expected the worst. What they found were Ivor and Ed laughing. The chess board and pieces were spread all over the floor.

“Sore loser,” Ivor said to Ed, who simply grinned. Then he saw them standing in the doorway and the laughter stopped to be replaced by the scowl he habitually wore.

“What happened?” Abby asked when Cade remained silent, his gaze locked with his dad’s.

“I told Ed that cane would be the death of him,” Ivor explained. “He keeps waving it all over. Finally it caught on the board.” He shrugged. “We were finished anyway. I won.”

Cade began picking up the pieces. Ivor knelt to help him. “Do you play chess with your dad?” he asked innocently.

“No.” Cade gave no explanation, simply set the pieces back on the board and rose.

“I think it’s time I went to bed,” Abby said before Ivor could ask more questions. “This has been a busy day for me.” She walked over to Ed, bent and brushed her lips against his leathery cheek. “Good night,” she whispered. She managed a quick hug for Ivor.

“Want me to walk you to your room?” When he shook his head firmly she recognized that he didn’t want to be seen as a baby and it was too early for him to accept someone else doing what his mom had done. She nodded, then looked up at Cade. “Thank you again,” she murmured, keeping her voice low enough so the others wouldn’t hear. “Good night.”

His eyes held hers for a long moment. Finally he said good-night, but as she walked out of the room, Abby could feel three sets of eyes boring into her back and was grateful Mrs. Swanson had already shown her the way to her room. Abby scurried down the hall, grateful the house was ranch style with only one floor. She didn’t think she could manage stairs tonight. She was just too tired.

She was tucked up in bed when she heard the others go to their rooms. Cade’s calm, level voice penetrated as he wished Ivor good-night. She couldn’t decipher what he was saying to his dad but Ed’s cane made several loud thumps, which were soon silenced. Sometime later she heard Cade say “Good night, Dad.” Then a door clicked and the house settled down.

Abby lay on her big, wide bed and marveled at the lovely room. It was twice the size of the one she’d shared with Max. There were huge windows opposite the bed. Come morning she would probably have a view of the entire ranch, maybe even the horses. God had certainly taken care of her. For now.

But what was she going to do about getting a permanent home for the babies?

Abby smoothed her hand over her bulging stomach as she pressed down the rush of panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

“God will provide,” she whispered. A tiny unborn foot in the center of her midsection kicked her hand. She smiled. “For all of us,” she said. But how? That question haunted her. While the babies went through their nightly calisthenics routine, she picked up her Bible, flipped it open and began reading in the Book of Psalms.

God adopts us as His very own children.

Abby smiled to herself. Here was a promise she could cling to. God had adopted her. She was His. He’d used Cade to bring her here, to give her a home, even if it was temporary, and she had new friends in Mrs. Swanson, Ivor and Ed, not to mention Cade.

For a moment her thoughts got caught up in the strong, handsome rancher, in his gentleness to her, his protective attitude and the way he’d insisted on rescuing her. Poor Cade. He was trying to do the right thing here, too, but his father certainly didn’t make it easy on him.

An idea blossomed. Maybe that’s why she was here, to help the two of them mend their relationship. Despite Ed’s crankiness, Abby had seen a glint in his eyes when he’d surreptitiously watched Cade. She was certain father and son loved each other. They’d just gotten off track.

She could never repay Cade for all he’d done for her. Except, maybe she could help him find his way back to the man he clearly loved.

Show me, Father, please? she prayed.

Then she put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. As usual, her fingers closed around the tiny locket she wore, the one precious thing she couldn’t bear to sell. She popped it open and stared into Max’s eyes. For the first time in months, tears didn’t well up. She traced his features with a forefinger.

“Your friend’s taking care of us,” she murmured. “We’re fine. And you’re at peace now. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help you. I’m sorry I failed you. But I promise I will not fail our babies. Cade will help us.”

But just how much help could she take from the handsome rancher with the deep blue eyes?

* * *

In all his years on the ranch, Cade had never had a more frustrating day. His two best bulls had broken through a fence last night and it had taken forever to round them up, get them back with the rest of the herd and fix the fence. It had to happen on the day he’d given Garnet Jones, his hand, the day off. The drifts were so deep he’d had to use the snowmobile. Ivor had seen him and rushed out, eager to try the machine.

Cade wanted the kid to feel at home, even to enjoy himself. Since he hadn’t had much luck interesting Ivor in anything else the past three days, he figured the snowmobile might act as a kind of bridge between them. That was before Ivor had raced the machine too close to the pond and broken through the ice on the edge.

“It could have been worse,” he told Ivor after he’d pulled the snowmobile out with his four-wheel drive.

“How?” Ivor glared at him.

“If you’d gone further, you’d have sunk in completely and taken a cold bath. And you’d have ruined my machine.” He studied his snowmobile and sighed. “Not that it won’t take a fair bit of work to dry it out and get it running now.”

“It’s really old. You should probably buy a new one,” was Ivor’s only comment before he wandered back to the house.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Cade muttered as he towed the snowmobile into his machine shed, dismayed that his attempts to bond with the boy had gone so poorly.

Things got a little better after lunch when Abby insisted on seeing his horses. She crept up to the stall as if in fear for her life, but when Liberty, his favorite mare, stuck her head over the gate and whinnied, Abby seemed to forget her inhibitions. She reached up a hand and gently brushed it over Liberty’s golden-red mane. A moment later the two were holding a mutual admiration meeting. Abby’s green eyes grew huge with wonder when she looked at him.

“She’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“She’s a sucker for apples.” Cade handed her one of two he’d tucked into his pocket earlier.

“Does it have to be cut up—oh!” Abby blinked as the horse nipped the apple from her fingers and chewed the treat. She looked at her hand in wonder. “She didn’t even touch me.”

Cade laughed.

“Liberty’s an expert thief. Sometimes she searches my pockets for carrots when I’m cleaning her stall or feeding her and she always finds them.” A sudden rush of satisfaction filled him when Abby began to caress Liberty, which made Cade wonder why it seemed so important she was comfortable with his animals.

How at home do you want her to feel? He ignored the voice in his head.

“Liberty loves her treats almost as much as she loves being brushed,” he explained. “Want to try?”

Abby studied him for a few minutes, then slowly nodded. Cade went to the tack area, grabbed Liberty’s favorite brush and carried it to Abby. Carefully he opened the gate and positioned himself by Liberty’s side so he could show Abby how to brush. When his fingers covered hers, Cade’s heart rate giddyapped, just as it had right before he’d shot out of the chute on an ornery bronc when he competed at the Calgary Stampede.

As soon as Abby had the motion memorized, Cade let go and stepped back, trying to even out his erratic breathing. What was wrong with him today?

Liberty shifted and whinnied. Abby backed away with a frown. “Did I do it wrong?”

“No. You’re doing it right. That means she likes it.” Cade smiled. “She won’t hurt you, but she might not want you to stop,” he warned.

“Do all her noises have meanings?” Abby resumed her work.

“Not always, but you’ll know if she doesn’t like something. She’s not subtle.” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Abby’s face and the pure joy that radiated from it as she curried the horse.

“I hear you had some trouble with Ivor this morning.” She gave him a quick sideways look.

“We don’t seem to be hitting it off,” Cade admitted. “He won’t listen to anything I say. I tried to tell him to keep the snowmobile away from the pond but—” He shrugged and let the rest of his sentence die.

“Ivor doesn’t come from a ranch family, does he? I think Mrs. Swanson mentioned his dad was some kind of mechanic.” Abby moved to Liberty’s other side. Cade followed and stayed close, just in case she needed him.

“Maybe Ivor worked with him,” Cade said dourly. “Then he could help me fix my sled.”

Abby chuckled, then smoothed her hand between Liberty’s eyes, whispering soothing words. She winked at him.

“Maybe Ivor would like to brush a horse,” she mused in a speculative tone.

“I’m not sure he likes animals.” Which was a relief since Cade wasn’t sure he wanted Ivor anywhere near his prized horses. Sensing that Abby was wearying, he called a halt and put Liberty back in her stall, placating her whinny of complaint with another apple.

“It’s coffee time,” he said as he closed the stall door. “Let’s go see what Mrs. Swanson baked today.”

“Does she bake a lot?” Abby asked. She slid her hand through the arm he offered and daintily picked her way over the snowy path toward the house.

“She usually makes something special every day. It’s her way of trying to tempt my dad to eat a little more,” he told her.

“Has she been here a long time?” Abby wondered.

“Since my mom died. She practically raised me.” He cleared his throat and said the words that had nagged at him for hours. “You were with my father for a long time this morning. I really think it’s better if you stay away, Abby.”

“Your father and I were playing games.” She stopped when he paused outside the back door and studied him. “Ed seemed to really get into them, so I didn’t want to cut it short. But if you’d rather I didn’t interact with him—” She stopped, waited.

“I don’t want you hurt,” Cade said firmly. “I heard his cane banging several times. When he gets riled he sometimes loses control—”

“He wasn’t riled.” Abby laughed. “He was celebrating. He beat me at every game of checkers. Ivor told me he’d lost to Ed earlier, too.”

“He didn’t get upset?” Cade frowned when Abby shook her head.

“Your father seems to enjoy winning.”

“Yeah, he loves winning,” Cade told her with an ironic grin. “Understatement of the year to say he loves winning. My father has to win.”

Winning was all that mattered to Ed. At least it was all that seemed to matter in his relationship with his son. Since Cade had often overruled him in regard to decisions about the ranch, he’d assumed that accounted for his father’s worsening behavior.

Confused by the different view of his dad, Cade held the door for Abby to precede him inside. They shed their outer clothes and boots in the mudroom that adjoined the kitchen.

“Something smells wonderful,” Abby said, following her nose. “I can’t believe I’m hungry again. I ate a huge lunch.”

“Ranch life does that to you.” Cade accepted two cups of coffee from Mrs. Swanson and set them on the kitchen table. “It’s the fresh, unspoiled air.”

“It’s also the wee ones wanting a snack,” Mrs. Swanson said with a knowing glance at Abby’s midriff. “Some cinnamon rolls might quiet them.”

“They certainly would.” Abby sat next to Cade, then accepted a steaming cinnamon roll. She nipped a bite between her pink lips, closed her eyes and smiled. “Delicious,” she said, much to Mrs. Swanson’s satisfaction.

A few moments later Ed and Ivor joined them. Ivor pushed Ed’s chair to the table as if he’d done it a thousand times before. As they all sat around the table sharing the delicious treat, Abby teased Ed about winning and then Ivor about almost sinking the snowmobile.

For the first time in memory, Cade realized that he and his father were seated together at the table without the usual tension. Everyone seemed to find harmony, fun and pleasure in one another’s company. Cade had no doubt that was Abby’s influence on them. She seemed to bring out the best in everyone she met.

Cade’s gaze slid to Ivor. According to Marsha’s call this morning, the kid was going to be here a while. None of the relatives she’d spoken to seemed ready to add the orphaned boy to their menageries, which meant Cade needed to find a way to connect with Ivor. His horses had reached Abby. Maybe they would Ivor, too.

Cade spared a moment to wonder why it was so important for him to connect with Ivor, then decided he was just being a good host.

“Maybe tomorrow you’d like to go for a horse ride,” he offered. “I could teach you if you don’t know how to ride.”

“No, thank you.” Ivor didn’t even look at him. He did turn to Ed and ask him for a rematch. The pair left the kitchen with Ivor teasing the older man and Ed thumping his cane as he rolled along in his wheelchair, just for effect.





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