A Dad for Her Twins (9 page)

“I used to talk to God,” Cade said in an edgy tone. “When I was a kid and my dad had just reamed me out for something, Mrs. Swanson said I should pray. So I did. A lot. But nothing ever changed. And it still hasn't.”

“You don't know what God is doing,” Abby insisted. “You can't see inside your father to know his thoughts and feelings and since you don't talk to him about that, how will you find out?”

She would have said more but the clanging of a bell caught Cade's attention.

“That's Mrs. Swanson's signal for me to get back to the house fast,” he explained, her eyes narrowing with concern. “It could be Dad.”

“Let's go.” Abby waited till Cade tugged open the big door. As soon as he'd closed it behind them, she slid her arm through his. “I can go faster if I hang onto you,” she explained, wondering if he got the same jolt of awareness that she did when their bare hands touched.

If so, Cade didn't show it, or maybe he was too preoccupied. All he did was lead her back to the house.

* * *

Six hours later Cade closed the door on the last guest and sighed his relief that they'd finally gone, leaving the ranch house to return to its solitude.

“Wasn't that fun?” Abby's green eyes sparkled with excitement. “I never imagined they'd all show up here to discuss the agency, but it wasn't a bad idea, was it?” She searched his face, a question on her own. “You didn't mind?”

“Only when I thought I'd have to go hunt down a cow to feed them all,” he teased, refusing to acknowledge the rush of fear that had filled him at the sight of so many people invading his home, people he usually avoided when he was in town. “Once they brought out all those goodies for a potluck it was okay.”

“It wasn't the potluck that made you feel better,” she said indignantly. “It was the sight of Mayor Marsha's raspberry pie.” Abby shared a grin with Mrs. Swanson.

“I didn't think Ed was going to get a taste, let alone Ivor.” The housekeeper chuckled.

“It was an excellent pie,” Cade said, ignoring the burn on his cheeks. He hadn't been that greedy, had he? He turned to Abby. “Are you pleased with the decision to proceed with the adoption agency even though all the funding isn't yet in place?”

“I think it's a great idea.” She nursed a mug of peppermint tea between her palms, letting the steam bathe her face. “It's troubling to find out that Wanda doesn't have sufficient funds for a contingency plan, but I believe God will bless Family Ties. We just need to be prepared for when He answers our prayers.”

As usual, Abby's faith in God was irrepressible.

“Family Ties?” Cade couldn't help appreciating how lovely she looked in the soft light of the kitchen.

“Everyone seemed to think it's an appropriate name.” That was her modesty talking, not taking credit for a name that had been her suggestion.

Mrs. Swanson swished her dishcloth over the counter one last time before wishing them good-night. But she paused in the doorway, speaking hesitantly.

“I think having those people come out here for their meeting was a great idea,” she said, facing Cade. “Ed loved playing host and he enjoyed listening to the men's discussion. The guys who drove their wives here had their heads together about something. Whatever it was, it seems to have put a light in his eyes. I think they should come again—only could you tell me first? I nearly died when they all drove into the yard and I had nothing prepared.” Then she turned and quickly left the room.

Cade glanced at Abby. Her lips twitched.

“Mrs. Swanson thinks we arranged that gathering,” she said in a choked voice.

“Actually, for a few minutes, I thought
you
had,” Cade admitted. “You didn't seem all that surprised to see them.”

“Well I was. But I'm glad they came. The more people we get working on this, the sooner we can get Family Ties operational.” She sipped her tea, her gaze resting on him thoughtfully. “You know a lot of people around here, don't you?”

“I know what you're thinking, Abby.” Cade held up his hand while shaking his head. “No. I haven't got time to take on more.”

“I was only thinking you might make a few phone calls to help with fund-raising. It wouldn't take that much time,” she coaxed. “Since you'll be driving me into town anyway, you could make them on your cell while you wait...”

Cade kept shaking his head but deep inside he knew that eventually he'd make those calls. He was putty in her hands and the thing was, most of the time he didn't mind helping because he liked being around Abby, enjoyed seeing her happy smile stretch across her lovely face. But he also enjoyed teasing her so he shook his head.

“No.”

“Fine,” she finally conceded. “Be like that. But you'll wish you'd joined us when we have the grand opening.”

“Poor Max,” he said softly. “He must have been terribly henpecked.”

“How well did you know him?” Abby shot back right before a huge yawn stretched her lips. “Max never did anything he didn't want to. Even when it would have been better for him to listen to someone else.”

There was a certain asperity in her voice that made Cade frown. What wasn't Abby saying? She seemed lost in the past, her face closed up, a hint of—pain? flickering through her lovely eyes. He waited, hoping she'd say more.

Since Ivor was away on a visit to another extended family member and Ed had already retired, Cade lingered despite Abby's obvious weariness. He enjoyed sitting with her in the silent peace of the cozy kitchen.

But when her head began to nod he rose.

“You'd better get some sleep if you're going to church tomorrow.”

She jerked upright, a tentative smile lifting her lips. “You'll take me? You don't mind going to church?”

“I'll take you,” he agreed.

“Are you going to start talking to God?” she asked, then added, “If that's not too personal.”

“I'm going to take you so I can take Dad, so he can be among other people,” Cade told her without answering her question. “Mrs. Swanson's comment makes me realize Dad needs the sociability that church offers. He's been isolated out here with me too long.”

“Good idea.” Abby's green gaze held his.

“Mrs. Swanson deserves the change, too. She's had to miss a lot of Sunday services because of my ranch work.”

“Uh-huh.” Abby just kept watching him. Cade shifted uncomfortably under her assessing gaze. He was not prepared for her next comment. “Your dad, Mrs. Swanson, me, Recitation and the other animals.” Her voice dropped to a soft, thoughtful tone. “You take great care of all of us, don't you? But who takes care of you, Cade?”

“I don't need taking care of. I can take care of myself,” he said gruffly.

“One thing I learned from Max is that sooner or later we all need someone to be there for us, even if it's just to listen to us. Those people in town want to be your friends,” she told him, her voice very gentle. “They want you to be theirs. Don't shut out everyone, Cade. Someday you might need them.”

He didn't have the time or the fortitude to be involved. But Cade didn't say that because Abby was moving as if she was going to rise. He held out a hand to help her up. Abby smiled her thanks as she stepped away from the table. Cade couldn't tear his gaze from her when she lifted one hand to her stomach and brushed her fingers lightly across her abdomen.

“Twins acting up?” he asked, then wished he hadn't. It was none of his business and far too personal. Apparently Abby didn't think so. She grinned at him.

“Nightly calisthenics,” she complained, but her chuckle belied her complaint. “Good thing you have a substantial library on the ranch. At least I can read while they bounce.”

“Help yourself to anything in it,” he told her. “Do you need help to your room?”

“Not yet, thanks,” she said, her laughter echoing around the room. “But be careful what you offer, because that day may come and I can almost guarantee that I won't be nearly as calm as Recitation when I go into labor.” Her face softened with her smile. “In fact, I'll probably be a complete nuisance.”

“We'll deal with it,” he said, not knowing what else to say, slightly concerned by her words yet oddly eager to be there for her if she needed him.

“I know you will.” She nodded, her face totally serious now. “You'll deal with that as you do everything else. You're good at dealing with things, Cade. That's a trait God can always use in His kids. I often wished Max had that calm ability to work through an issue.” She said good-night, then turned and walked to her room.

What issue? Cade didn't understand. Had things gone bad between them? If he'd been more involved with his buddy, maybe he could have helped. Yeah, right. He'd had that chance when he'd been asked to accept the special mission. He'd refused and because of that, Max had died. Abby was speaking through her grief, that's all.

But she kept harping on God, as if God cared about Cade Lebret. He switched off the kitchen lights and walked to his study, which Abby called the library. He sat down behind his desk and pulled out his record book, noting the date and birth of Recitation's foal. That brought to mind Abby's reaction and the memory of holding her in his arms to comfort her.

Hard as he tried, Cade couldn't suppress the wiggle of yearning that memory revived. He shoved it out of his mind to concentrate instead on what Max would have done to help Abby through the rest of her pregnancy, because knowing Abby, Cade was positive she was going to throw herself into Family Ties. Someone had to ride herd on her, make sure she didn't overdo or take on too much. And, as she'd said herself, Cade was good at dealing with things.

Except that watching a mare give birth was an entirely different matter than human birth. He knew less than nothing about that. Cade turned on his computer, pulled up an online bookstore and began researching books on pregnancy and birth. He scribbled down the names of several.

Tomorrow he'd phone the library in Calgary and see if they had the books. He could pick them up on Monday when he took Abby to her doctor for a checkup. While she was busy with that, Cade intended to meet his buddy who thought he'd found the pawnshop where Abby had hocked her rings and her quilting machine and who knew what else.

Funny, but her comments about talking to God had him thinking. Maybe instead of skipping out on church, he'd sit beside her and listen. Maybe God would finally show him a way to help his dad.

Abby had been right about one thing—he did love this ranch. He'd just never realized how much the place meant to him, how many dreams and goals he'd built up until she reminded him. For a few moments today he'd even wondered if he should reconsider selling. Abby was the only one besides Max who'd ever understood the fulfillment he found here. Her encouragement had reignited his old daydream of carrying on the Double L with someone like her by his side.

But that was just a daydream.

There wasn't anyone else like Abby, and even if there were, what would they want with Cade? He didn't have the ability to love somebody like her, not the way she deserved. And how could she love him after loving Max? It was a silly dream and yet he couldn't quite shake it.

Maybe tomorrow when everyone else was praying he'd ask God about that.

Cade reached out to put away his record book. His fingers brushed the forms he'd received from the government about Max's death benefits. Just another area where he was unsuccessful, but he wouldn't give up. Abby needed that money for her kids and Cade was determined to get the government to pay her.

For the first time, Cade criticized his buddy. Why hadn't Max taken care of things?

Unable to find an answer, he switched off the lights and walked to his room. But sleep was elusive. As he lay wide awake, his thoughts returned to Abby. Had he done enough for her? Was he missing something?

By the time the grandfather clock in the living room chimed two, Cade decided he might as well help the town do a little fund-raising. That way he could keep a closer eye on Abby, make sure she didn't overdo.

Though how in the world Cade would stop Abby once she made up her mind to do something was a puzzle that kept him awake far into the night.

Chapter Six

“S
eems like this is your day to visit doctors.” Abby glanced at Cade, hoping her teasing comment would help relax the edges of strain on his face. “First Ed, now me. What did Ed's doctor say?”

“That he needs more physiotherapy sessions.” Gloom darkened Cade's expression. He seemed taken aback by the friendly hands waving hello. “I guess they're waving at you,” he mumbled, staring straight ahead as they drove through the town.

Abby's heart ached for his self-imposed exile. She yearned to help him and Ed but the gulf between them seemed so great, filled with unspoken things. So like Max. She hadn't been able to help him, either.

“I'd gladly take Dad for them, but Buffalo Gap only has a part-time therapist. She's heavily booked and doesn't have any extra sessions available, even if Dad would agree.” Cade heaved a sigh of frustration. “Anyway, Dad's not high on the list for extra time from her because he refuses to work hard. According to Doc Treple he isn't progressing quickly enough.”

“I'm sorry.” Abby grimaced. Sorry was such a weak word. “I could try encouraging Ed some more.”

“I think that right now it might only alienate him. You've already gone above and beyond by persuading him to repeat the lists of speech patterns his therapist gave him.” Cade did glance at her then. “Thank you for trying to help him.”

Abby nodded. Since Cade didn't say anything else, she, too, fell silent as the truck ate up the miles toward Calgary. After a moment her thoughts drifted to the constant problem that now nagged at her: how could she get enough quilts made from the mass of donated fabric Mayor Marsha was collecting to supply the orphanage? Her mind drew on her work with her mother, searching to remember the simplest patterns. Cade's voice jerked her out of her daydream.

“I can tell from that blissful look on your face that you're thinking about quilts,” he teased, amusement threading his tone. “I heard rumors you're looking for people to cut out pieces for them.”

“A few women have offered to do some cutting at home,” she told him. “Mostly they're former quilters, so they'll do fine. Even so, we'll need a lot of help. I think we'll stick to simple patterns like the nine patch or flying geese variations.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Cade said with a blank look. “But I am wondering how and where you'll put all the pieces together.”

“I haven't worked that out yet,” Abby admitted. “I really wish I had my sewing machine.”

“Mrs. Swanson has one.”

“I know. She's already hard at work piecing.” She frowned. “She's a great help, but I have a lot of spare time right now and if I had a machine I could be working, too...” She let it trail away. After all, her lack of funds wasn't Cade's problem.

“I made a few fund-raising calls for your project,” he said, his voice sheepish. “But I didn't do very well. Buffalo Gap is a small community, mostly made up of ranchers like me, struggling to keep going. Nobody's wealthy in anything but cattle and pasture. In fact, the only person I can think of who'd have cash to spare is Hilda Vermeer. But I doubt she'd contribute.”

“Why not?” Abby could hardly control her curiosity. Small towns were so interesting once you unraveled their history.

“Hilda's—uh.” He frowned, searching for the right word. “I guess you'd say she's rigid in her beliefs. She'll likely be against the adoption agency. Still, if you want a seamstress, she's your lady. She used to design fancy clothes so she certainly has the equipment.” A little smile curved his lips upward, making him so attractive that Abby's heart began to thud. “In fact, Mrs. Swanson used to envy Hilda her fancy sewing machines.”

“Really?” Abby forced her focus off Cade's handsome face. That was getting to be more of a struggle each day she stayed on the ranch. “Tell me more about the lady.”

“Hilda's father made his money in the oil fields. As his only child, she inherited everything. She's very—uh, frugal, I guess you'd say,” he added, mouth pursed. “She's also become quite reclusive. Not that she was ever very sociable.”

“Is that all you can think of to tell me about her?” Abby pressed when Cade stopped.

“Pretty much.” He glanced at her, scrunched up his face and finally said, “I was in her Sunday-school class when I was a kid. The thing that sticks with me is that she was heavy on rules.”

“It's sad when people get so caught in obedience that they forget about God's love,” Abby agreed. “But Cade, how could Ms. Vermeer possibly object to an adoption agency?”

“I think she just would. On principle or something.” His face wore a funny look. “Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Why not?” Abby stared into the distance, her brain busy with possibilities.

“Because you're going to talk to her, aren't you?” He groaned and shook his head. “Don't bother, Abby. She'll only put you down. Her community spirit is even lower than mine.”

“Then I'll have to work on both of you,” Abby told him with a smile. His answering grin lit a puddle of warmth inside her. “On a different subject, have you heard anything from the government?”

“Nothing. I think I might have to resort to talking to the media,” Cade said. “If word got out the government was abandoning the widow of one of their top soldiers, withholding what is rightfully hers and leaving her penniless, the politicians would trip over themselves trying to rectify the error. Maybe that's the way to go.”

“You won't ask me to do interviews or go on television, will you?” Cade looked so delighted with that idea that Abby had to burst his bubble. “Because I can't.”

“Why not?” He looked irritated by her comment.

“I'm as big as a house, for one thing,” she mumbled, wondering suddenly what Cade thought of her ungainly body. “And getting bigger.”

“So? Adds more pathos to your claim. ‘Needy Mom of Twins Ignored by Military.'” Cade looked ashamed when she hissed her breath between her teeth. “Okay, maybe that's not politically correct or very sensitive, but being pregnant does add immediacy to your need to get the claim settled. And besides,” he added after taking a swig from his coffee cup and returning it to the holder on the dash. “You'd look beautiful on television.”

“I wasn't trying to squeeze a compliment out of you,” she blustered. “You don't have to lie.”

“I'm not lying.” He glanced at her, brows uplifted. “If you don't believe me, ask Dad when we get home. Or look in a mirror. You're a beautiful person, Abby.”

“Thank you.” Somehow the words left her feeling deflated.

Being a beautiful person wasn't quite the same as being called beautiful by a man like Cade, and for whatever inexplicable reason hiding inside her, Abby wanted him to see her as beautiful. Silly. Cade was just a friend and friendship was all she wanted, wasn't it?

“I don't want to put myself on show or have the world know I'm destitute. I just want what belongs to me so I can get on with building a home for myself and my kids.”

“Doing my best,” he said, his lips tightening.

“I know you are, Cade, and I appreciate it very much. Thank you.” Abby brushed his arm with her fingertips, trying to express her gratitude. But she worried that her comments had hurt him. Recently she'd begun to realize that under that bravado and assurance hid a very sensitive man. “What will you do while I see the doctor?” she asked curiously.

“You're sure you don't want me there?” he asked.

Abby had been shocked when he'd suggested it before they left the ranch, before she realized that was all part of the care and concern Cade lavished on everyone.

“I'm sure,” she said firmly. No way did she want him present when the doctor scolded her for gaining too much weight. “Anyway, I'll have to wait for lab work and stuff. That would be boring for you.”

“Then I'll probably call up an old buddy for coffee.” The way he said it so nonchalantly made something inside her prickle with warning. But when he turned his head and met her gaze Abby decided she was being overly sensitive.

“Good. You probably miss connecting with your buddies. Max didn't—” She frowned.

“Max didn't what?”

“He didn't seem to want to get together much. He'd become very—introspective,” she said finally, wishing she'd kept quiet.

“He let the work get to him.” Cade nodded. “Something that's really hard to learn but totally necessary is to let go of the mission when you come home. Max struggled with that, relived his decisions. It's hard not to do, but it drives you nuts.”

“Yes,” she whispered, relieved that he understood. “I think he had PTSD,” she murmured.

“Max?” Cade shook his head then frowned. “Why?”

Abby told him about the night sweats, the screams of terror-filled nightmares, the startling when a car backfired.

“It preyed on his mind constantly. I think that's why he forgot to do some of the things he should have,” she murmured.

“I'm sorry. I had no idea.” Cade shook his head. “I should have checked on him more before he went back.”

“He wouldn't have talked to you, Cade,” Abby told him quietly. “He wouldn't even talk to me. Mostly I guessed what was wrong.”

“Still.” He was silent for so long Abby felt compelled to change the subject.

“I'm stuck on where we're going to put together all that donated fabric,” she said when some time had passed.

“Marsha mentioned the seniors' center as a project place, but she said they use the big tables there almost every day, which means you'd have to put your stuff away after every session, right?” Cade asked.

Abby nodded. “It's not even close to ideal but if that's all we have...”

“I might have an idea. Let me think about it for a bit and I'll get back to you,” Cade said, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I appreciate any help you can give,” she said and meant it. Trust Cade to want to help with that, too. The soft spot for him grew. “Creating quilts for the center makes it concrete, like we're taking the first step toward actually achieving the goal of the adoption agency.”

“Is the agency that important to you?” he asked with a sideways frown.

“Yes, because it could mean a job for me. A future. But it's not only that.” A feeling of selfishness that she'd mentioned her own reasons first swept over her.

“What else?” he asked.

“An adoption agency could bring added business to the town. Adoptive parents will need somewhere to stay, so the motel will get increased business,” she elaborated. “They'll need to eat, so the cafés will need to hire more employees. These types of offshoots from the agency could really give a boost to the local economy.”

“You've certainly given this a lot of thought.” Cade sounded surprised.

“It's something my mom taught me,” she explained. “If you intend to do something, think through all the ramifications of it and then explore how you could make even more of an impact.”

“Good plan,” was all Cade said as he steered into the city toward her doctor's office. Somehow he maneuvered his hulking truck into a tiny parking space. “Wait,” he ordered before he jumped out on his side and went around to assist her in alighting from the vehicle.

Abby gladly took his arm as they navigated the icy sidewalk to enter a tall stone building. She pointed to her doctor's name on the plaque between the elevators.

“That's where I'm going but I'm supposed to have an ultrasound before I see the doctor. That will take extra time. I'll be at least a couple of hours,” she reminded him.

“Here.” Cade handed her a cell phone. “It's an extra one I keep at the ranch. You can reach me by pressing this.” He showed her. “Call me and I'll get here as fast as I can.”

“If you're doing something important, I can always wait in the little coffee shop they have here.” She grinned when his forehead furrowed. “I won't even have to go outside.”

“Good.” He checked his watch. “So unless you call and tell me otherwise, I'll be back in two hours. Okay?”

Abby nodded and watched as he sauntered away. He'd left his Stetson in the truck but even without it, anyone would know Cade Lebret was a cowboy. It wasn't just his long-legged stride of confident assurance, or the way his jeans, though faded and worn, fit him like a second skin. It wasn't even his battered leather jacket with its sheepskin lining that made her think of the open range.

It was all of those things and something else, some intangible aura that exemplified strength and self-reliance and poise under the most difficult of circumstances. Looking at Cade, having him near, made her relax because she knew she could count on the rancher.

Maybe it was silly, but with Cade she had no worries that he'd suddenly step away from her. Cade wasn't fighting the same terrors Max had; neither did he seem to need her. Perhaps it was foolish but Abby felt as if Cade was more of a partner.

Abby gave herself a shake and pressed the elevator button. She was spending far too much time thinking about Cade Lebret. As if to emphasize that, as the elevator doors opened, one of the babies kicked her in the side.

“Point taken. But you can't deny he's a very good-looking man and ultra nice besides,” she reminded them.

A man tossed her a wary look before stepping into the elevator with her. He stabbed a button before retreating to the farthest corner. Abby suppressed a chuckle. That's what came of letting yourself daydream about your husband's best friend.

But the reminder sobered her. Cade was a wonderful friend, a truly decent man who was doing his best for her. But he didn't know that she'd failed to help Max, that their marriage hadn't been as carefree as Max made everyone believe. Now that she was having his children, she couldn't afford to get sidetracked by another romantic dream of love.