Reunited with the Cowboy (16 page)

Dear Reader,

Every day of our life we are faced with choices. In
Reunited with the Cowboy
, Heather is dealing with the consequences of both her biological mother's choices and her own. The problem is, she is struggling with the idea that she has made the same poor choices her mother did, when in many ways she was simply surviving. We are all, to a point, products of our environment, but we are also products of our choices. The reality is that while we are making the decisions we do, we also have to realize that our lives are a work in progress. One choice will lead us in one direction. Another choice could take us on a different path. I believe that if we daily entrust our choices to God and try to work for His purpose, He will guide us and use the circumstances of our lives to work out His will and good work.

Blessings in the choices you make today.

P.S. I love to hear from my readers. Drop a line to
[email protected]
or stop by my website at
carolyneaarsen.com
to find out about new and upcoming books. Sign up for my newsletter as well, to keep informed of the latest news.

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Chapter One

C
ade 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.