A Dad for Her Twins

“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

“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.”