A Dad for Her Twins (19 page)

“So?” he said, impatient to hear her response.

“Yes, I will marry you. I love you. As long as we trust God, nothing else matters to me.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, offering her commitment.

The sound of sirens drew their attention. They stood arm in arm and watched as seconds later the Buffalo Gap fire department pulled up in front of the barn. Though the men turned their hoses on the blaze, Cade knew the barn was a write-off. And he couldn't have cared less. His loved ones were safe. That was all that mattered.

“I don't think Mrs. Swanson would mind watching the babies a little longer. Could you help me make some coffee and lunch for these guys?” Cade asked Abby when the last ember had been doused.

“I'm still the cook,” Mrs. Swanson sputtered.

“Of course you are.” Abby handed Cade Eric and took Adam in her own arms. Two of the firemen helped Ed rise. “But we're your helpers.” She winked at Cade. “After all, we should celebrate our engagement here on the Double L, don't you think?

“Sounds like the perfect place,” he agreed.

Half an hour later, Cade's heart overflowed with thanksgiving. There were tables and chairs scattered all over the patio as the fire department, made up of friends and neighbors in Buffalo Gap, used their lemonade to toast his and Abby's happiness.

“How great are You, Lord,” he whispered as he manned the barbeque. “I trust in You.”

When his cell phone rang, Cade handed his burger flipper to Jake to take over cooking before answering the call. Several moments later he hung up in disbelief.

“What is it, honey?” Abby murmured. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said and lifted her in his arms to whirl her around. “Everything is absolutely perfect.”

“How?”

“The sale of the ranch is off. The buyer said he specifically chose this ranch because the barn was operational and he could begin his business immediately. He was in town and heard that the barn was totaled. He doesn't want the ranch now. I agreed he could back out.”

Abby and Ed shared a whoop of delight.

“That's God for you,” Abby said.

Then Ed asked, “What about my therapy?”

“You know what, Dad,” Cade said to him, his arm around Abby's waist. “I think we're going to have to trust God on that one, too.”

“I'm good with that,” Ed said, his grin huge.

“So am I, Dad,” Cade said, hugging Abby. “So am I.”

Chapter Sixteen

A
bby held up her August 20 wedding to Cade by insisting on talking to him privately before the ceremony.

“Are you sure, Cade? I'm not sure you know enough about me to marry me,” she said, fiddling with her wildflower bouquet. “I mean, I failed Max—”

Cade cut off her words with a kiss.

“Abby, I know everything about you that I need to. You're kind and generous and determined to serve God no matter what, and you help me do the same. You always put people first. You use your words to bring comfort and joy and blessing. And with you I'm no longer ‘poor Cade.' I love you.”

She frowned, uncertainty still lingering. “But you don't know all the bad stuff about me.”

“Lady, I was there when you were in labor.” Cade chuckled. “I think we can agree that I've seen you at your very best and your very worst.” He cupped her chin in his palms. “And I love you more than ever. You and Eric and Adam and me and Dad and Mrs. Swanson. We belong together.”

Abby studied the man she loved more than life. She saw the blue sheen of happiness in his eyes, loved they way they lit up when they landed on the twins in their tiny tuxes. Joy shone there along with peace and satisfaction. Cade looked more contented than she'd ever seen him.

She caught her breath when he kissed her. Yes, this was the man for her.

“By the way, your wedding gift is over there,” she said, wondering if she'd ever get used to being in his arms. “I hope you like it.”

Cade turned and stared at the hanging quilt. She'd made it a picture of a cowboy, of Cade, with a newborn foal. Abby had used the photos she'd taken the night Recitation gave birth as a guide. But for the horse she'd used a photo of Liberty.

“It's amazing,” he said a long while later. He embraced her again. “So beautiful, just like you.”

“Thank you, darling,” she said sweetly and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back.

“Since I'm here, I might as well ask you something,” Cade murmured, still holding her.

“Anything,” Abby assured him.

“Would it be okay with you if we talk about adopting Ivor when we come back from our honeymoon?” Cade asked. “I mean, he kind of belongs here now, doesn't he?”

“Yes,” she whispered, hugging him close. How she loved this bighearted man. “You really want to marry us, the twins and me, I mean?” she asked just to reassure herself.

Cade gazed into her eyes, certainty in the depths of his. “Abby, I insist on it.”

“Okay then. What are we waiting for?” she asked, deliriously happy.

Two minutes later, using his walker, Ed escorted Abby down the aisle of the new barn built by the folks of Buffalo Gap as thanks to her and Cade for their work in the community with Family Ties, even though the agency had never opened. Ivor stood at the front, Cade's best man. Mayor Marsha, clinging to her cane, said the words that united the couple as husband and wife.

“I don't know how we can thank you enough,” Abby said to Marsha when the reception started to wind down. The party lights had flickered on and the townsfolk were enjoying the summer twilight, good friends and Mrs. Swanson's delicious treats.

“Ed has made so much progress. Finding government funding to provide a van to take patients to the outpatient therapist in Calgary three times a week was genius,” Abby told her.

“A gift from God,” Mayor Marsha agreed, tapping her cane for emphasis. Abby was pretty sure that's why she'd hung onto it. “If I hadn't gone in for knee surgery and rehabilitation, I'd never have found out about it.”

“Timing is everything.” Hilda Vermeer stood behind Abby. “I once said I'd never met anyone like you and I was right.” She held Eric in one arm, balanced on her hip just as Abby had taught her.

“I still don't know what that means,” Abby said with a chuckle. “I'm just like everyone else.”

“No. You really live out your faith.” Hilda smiled. “I've never known anyone like that before. I hope you won't mind that I'm using you as my example in faith matters.”

“Well, I don't mind,” Abby murmured as Cade's arm slid around her waist. She smiled at him, then turned back to Hilda. “But just how are you doing that?”

“I've hired an asbestos removal company to begin working on the Family Ties building first thing Monday morning. At my cost as my gift to your business,” she added before Cade could interrupt. “You and Wanda will be partners.”

“That's—wonderful,” Abby gasped.

“It's about time I joined this community instead of judging it. You taught me that.” She smiled when Abby hugged her and Cade followed. “I could get used to that,” she said, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Now go enjoy your honeymoon, because when you come back, there will be a lot to do to get Family Ties up and running.”

“You are an answer to prayer, Hilda Vermeer. And the best godmother-grandmother the twins could have. Thank you.” Abby rescued Eric while Cade announced the news to their guests.

Soon everyone was hugging Hilda. And she didn't seem to mind.

Abby and Cade gathered the twins, said goodbye to Ed and Mrs. Swanson and quietly left for their honeymoon in Calgary. But first they drove to the graveyard where Max was buried.

“These are your sons, Max,” Abby whispered, the sleeping babies cradled in her and Cade's arms. “I won't fail them.”

“We're going to fill their lives with love, just as you would have,” Cade added.

Abby and Cade said their goodbyes, then left arm in arm, knowing there would be challenges in the years ahead, but confident that if they trusted God, He would be with them every step of the way.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from FINALLY A HERO by Pamela Tracy.

Dear Reader,

Hello there! Welcome to Buffalo Gap, where friends are
always welcome and babies are the norm. I hope you enjoyed Abby and Cade's
story. Abby was so sure that Max was the only love she'd ever know and Cade was
resigned to living without love. Doesn't that just prove how small we humans
think, and how big are God's plans for us?

I hope you'll join me for Holly and Luc's story. Holly's
handsome neighbor, Luc, is always lending a hand but helping him adopt Henry
from Family Ties ignites long-buried dreams of a family of her own though
neither she nor Luc are interested in marriage. Things are getting interesting
in Buffalo Gap.

I love your letters. Write to Box 639, Nipawin, SK, Canada S0E
1E0; email
[email protected]
.

Till we meet again I wish you the warmth of a baby's smile, the
joy of a dear friend's laughter and the infinite pleasure of a hug freely given.
May you enjoy the love of God every moment in your life.

Blessings,

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

You believe hearts can heal.
Love Inspired
stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

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Chapter One

T
he only thing Jesse Campbell wanted, as he stepped out of the enclosure and through the back gate of Florence State Prison, was to leave the premises, to watch the prison disappear from view, and to enjoy the sweet smell of freedom.

Forever.

Reality, however, always made its presence known.

“See you soon,” said the prison guard escorting him. Five years in Florence State Prison had taught Jesse quite a bit about the system, especially when it came to the guards who played a game called “How Long Before This One Returns.”

Jesse looked the man straight in the eye, something not done on the inside, and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Perspiration, tasting faintly of salt, beaded on Jesse's upper lip. The air crackled with the dryness that only a 110-degree July Arizona afternoon could provide. And as for the exhilaration that came with freedom, it disappeared before it got a toehold when Jesse looked down the walkway to the parking lot. Mike Hamm, the prison minister who'd taken Jesse under his wing, had volunteered to pick Jesse up and deliver him to his new home and job. But, two days ago, Mike's first daughter had been born a month prematurely, and he was needed elsewhere.

“No problem,” Jesse had said. The prison van would take him to the bus station. The bus would drop him off in the small town of Apache Creek where he had a job lined up.

But instead of the prison van, he saw his mother standing by a broken-down, faded blue Chevy Cavalier.

He froze, unsure whether to move forward or turn back, and more than annoyed that five years in prison had taught him to wait and let someone tell him what to do.

Susan Campbell's dark hair hung past her shoulders, still long and thick. Today she wore a billowy top and tight shorts. She'd always dressed as if she were sixteen and looked as though she needed a good meal. He'd have recognized her anywhere even though he'd not seen her in seven years, two months and six days.

In prison, keeping track of dates was a favorite pastime.

Two days ago, he'd received an opened envelope with a note from his mother, their first contact in five years, two months and four days. The staff member who'd handed Jesse the envelope had raised an eyebrow while passing it over.

This note from his mother wasn't censored. Words on plain white paper proclaimed, “I'll be in touch after you get out. Got a surprise for you. S.”

This was the surprise? Her coming to pick him up?

Yeah, right. She'd never been the kind of mother who understood that surprises were supposed to be good, fun, memorable. Her idea of a surprise during his early childhood had been dropping him off for an extended stay at some relative's house so she could run off and have fun with her newest boyfriend.

Back then, like the guard, she'd often said, “See you soon,” and it had been Jesse playing the guessing game: how long before Mom comes back?

If ever.

The guard at Jesse's left tensed. “I thought you'd arranged for the van?”

“I did, but it's okay.” The old Jesse would have said a few choice words to dear old Mom and walked away. He'd have boarded the van without giving her a chance to say a word to him. Susan had never given much of anything to him. But he wasn't the old Jesse, the angry young man who'd made a bad choice and paid the price. He was forgiven, made anew, and had the scripture from Second Corinthians to prove it: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.”

One of his goals as this new person was to tie up the loose ends of his life and forgive, if he could, this woman who looked older, harder, yet the same.

Susan pushed off from the car and walked toward them, stopping a few feet away when the guard held up his hand. Now Jesse could see strands of gray in her hair. “Well, you just going to stand there?” she asked.

He gripped his duffel bag more tightly. Everything he owned was inside. The bag wasn't heavy.

“You don't sound too sure,” the guard said. “Is she on the list?”

“She's my mother. And, I'm not sure of anything,” Jesse continued, as together they walked to meet her, “except that I don't ever want to come back to this place.”

Susan hadn't moved from where she stood, but she agreed, “I'm glad to hear that. Prison's no fun.”

The guard took her name, motioned her closer so he could look at her driver's license, and radioed the information in. Surprise, surprise, she was on a list Jesse didn't know existed, and yes, she could pick him up.

“Get in,” she instructed him.

Every instinct warned him:
Don't do it! Run. Take the prison van.
But he'd not seen her for over seven years. Some stupid part of him still hoped she had changed. And even if she hadn't,
he
had. He was through running from his problems. From now on, he'd face them directly. He slowly followed her to the two-door car and settled his body in the passenger seat with his mostly empty duffel bag on the floorboard under his feet.

The Chevy looked like she'd been living in it with suitcases, taped boxes, dirty laundry and fast-food wrappers scattered throughout.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked, starting the engine and waving at the guard, who didn't wave back.

“Apache Creek. You need to—”

“I know where it is and how to get there.”

His mother drove the way she always had, speeding toward her destination—sure that whatever was ahead improved on what she'd left behind. He fastened his seat belt and rolled the window down, not even bothering to ask about air conditioning.

Silence, an intangible accusation, accompanied them for a good five miles. Finally, Jesse couldn't take it anymore. “I'm surprised you knew I was in, much less when I was getting out.”

She smiled, a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. “I didn't, not until last week. That's when I wrote you the letter.”

He didn't bother to tell her that thirteen words didn't constitute a letter. Half afraid to hear the answer, he asked, “What happened last week?”

Instead of answering, she muttered, “I hate confinement.”

Jesse knew of only two times his mother had been a guest of the system. Both times he'd wound up a ward of the state.

Could he forgive her for that, and for everything else? He knew the answer should be yes...and yet he couldn't decide, not today when he had fifty bucks tucked in his sock, just the most rudimentary belongings in his duffel and the phone number of a stranger offering a job in his pocket. He was supposed to call the man at two o'clock.

He couldn't afford to blow this opportunity. If Susan ruined it for him, as she'd ruined so many things in the past, then that would be a real challenge even for a Christian to forgive.

As they sped down the highway, he took note of his surroundings. It had been, after all, over five years since his view wasn't obstructed by a chain-link fence. The scenery wasn't much to brag about. To his right was a giant parking area waiting for winter when a flock of snowbirds in RVs would descend. To the left was the empty shell used by the Renaissance fair in the winter. Neither landmark welcomed him to sweet freedom.

Both were better than prison.

“What happened last week?” he finally asked again. “Does it have to do with the surprise you wrote about?”

She didn't answer. Instead, she nodded toward an interstate sign announcing Apache Creek Next Exit and left the highway. As she slowed the car, she looked in the rearview mirror, at the suitcases, boxes and clothes scattered in the back. He'd seen that expression on her face many a time. She felt trapped, like life had passed her by and somehow she'd missed out on what she deserved.

“I had a ride,” he said. “You didn't need to pick me up.”

“Yes, I did.” She drove down the main drag, slowing when she passed a fast-food restaurant, then a bar and grill, before finally turning into the parking lot of a rustic café. “You hungry?”

He doubted he could swallow a bite. For the past hour, he'd been trapped in a car with the mother he needed to forgive. The whole hour had felt eerily like still being in jail: trapped, at someone else's mercy.

If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.

He'd eat with her, forgive her and walk away knowing he'd done the right thing. “I'm a bit hungry.”

She parked close to the front door. Jesse grabbed his duffel and exited the car. He had the address for his new job in his pocket; he'd get directions and walk from here. He didn't care how hot it was. Walking would still be better than getting a ride from Susan, letting her know where to find him if she wanted to drag him into her troubles again. He stepped back, watching his toes, as a big blue pickup truck pulled in next to them. A curvy blonde, playing country music loud enough for him to sing along, turned off the engine, opened her door and climbed down.

She smiled, the half-shy expression of someone who knew how to be polite. Then she hurried around them and toward the front door of the Miner's Lamp Café.

His mother hesitated for the first time, acting almost insecure. “I need to introduce you to someone.” He looked at the restaurant, noticing the blonde still watching him. His mother, however, wasn't looking at the woman. His mother's gaze centered on one spot in the cluttered backseat, and Jesse leaned in to see what had her so distracted.

What Jesse had mistaken for dirty laundry was anything but. Now he saw the end of one bare foot sticking out from old jeans too big for the boy's small frame. Then came a dirty T-shirt advertising a rock group no child that age should know about.

“Timmy, wake up!”

A small head rose with dark-brown hair—the same color as Jesse's—badly in need of a wash. The boy's thumb was in his mouth. Sweat trickled down his cheek, looking like a teardrop.

Suddenly Jesse couldn't swallow. There was a huge lump in his throat, and it hurt.

This was him twenty-odd years ago, maybe five years old. Had his mother—?

“Meet your son,” his mother said.

* * *

Eva Hubrecht tried not to listen, tried to hurry into the restaurant without disturbing the man and woman in the blue car. They were obviously in crisis, and with everything that was going on in her own life, she couldn't handle one more.

Turning the corner, she overheard the woman say, “Really, this is your son. His name is Timmy.”

Eva didn't stop to hear what the man said next. It would keep her awake at night. Make her think that losing next week's wedding party, accounting for half the ranch's July reservations, wasn't the worst thing that could happen to someone after all.

The wedding had been called off entirely, and because the couple had canceled more than forty-eight hours in advance, Eva now had six empty rooms, three empty suites, two empty cabins and not even a hefty cancellation fee to make up for the lost revenue.

It was a seven-thousand-dollar loss, during the summer, when they could least afford it.

She allowed the restaurant door to slam behind her, didn't wait for the hostess, and instead headed for her favorite booth. Her ultimate goal had been to settle into a booth, bemoan her bad luck to the waitress, her best friend Jane de la Rosa, and maybe lose herself in a paperback.

Now she felt even more unsettled, questioned just how bad her luck was and doubted she'd be able to read past a paragraph.

What had she just witnessed? Possibly a family more dysfunctional than hers?

“Hey, girlfriend.” Jane set an iced tea in front of Eva. “Tell me, did you do it?”

Eva knew exactly what Jane was talking about. “No. I made it all the way to the stable, walked to Snow White's stall and actually aimed my hand for her nose.”

“Then?”

“Then, Pistol let out a loud snort and did a dance in the next stall.” Finally Eva admitted, “I ran.”

“Anyone see?”

“I'm pretty sure Harold was in the tack room. But he didn't look out, laugh or say anything. Last week he offered to help me on Snow White's back and walk me around the arena. But I don't want to feel like I'm eight years old, needing someone to hold my hand before I can deal with a horse. And I don't want to fail in front of anyone, especially not my dad.”

“Nothing wrong with being eight years old,” Jane said. “Sometimes you need to start where you left off. And the only failure is not trying.”

Then, without writing a single word on her order pad, Jane stuck it in her apron pocket and said, “I already told the kitchen you were here. They started your meal. So, you look to be in a mood. Something else happening at home?”

“No, something happening in your parking lot. Just a strange family...” Eva let her words taper off. It really wasn't any of her business. “...Having some, er, difficulties.”

“I'm sorry I had to cancel our movie tonight,” Jane said, not even blinking at the thought of a strange family outside. Eva figured she probably saw plenty of odd people passing through town. The Miner's Lamp Café was one of the few sit-down restaurants between Phoenix and Florence.

“I need the extra shift money,” Jane continued. “Did you ask someone else to go with you?”

Eva shook her head.

“You know, Sam Miller would love to go to the movies with you,” Jane said. “If you go with him, my mother would stop nudging me in his direction.”

That both Eva and Jane were single put them at the top of Jane's mom's to-do list. Sam was the only single guy at their church who fit Patti de la Rosa's fit-for-my-daughter criteria list: age-appropriate, employed and Christian. That he was also a high school friend and a cop worked in his favor.

Jane's mother was a full-time employee on the Lost Dutchman Ranch and had been offering Eva's dad parenting advice since Eva was in grade school, thus her name on a wish list. Patti claimed that neither of the girls got out enough and seemed to see it as her job to fix that.