A Dad for Her Twins

“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

“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.”