A Dad for Her Twins (8 page)

“No, go ahead. Please ask me whatever you want.” She waited, her glossy walnut curls sparkling in sunshine reflected off the snow.

“Why don't you wear Max's rings anymore? Is it because they remind you of him too much?” Cade wished he'd kept silent when devastation filled her eyes. “You don't have to tell me.”

Abby remained silent for several moments. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet, he wasn't sure he heard her correctly.

“I pawned them. Isn't that awful?” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. “I pawned my dead husband's rings.”

“Abby, I—” Cade was so shocked he couldn't think what to say.

“They were my dearest link with him.” She stared down at her knotted hands. “But I had no money and I had to pay the bills or they would have turned off the gas. I kept the thermostat as low as I could, but the house was old and drafty and it cost a lot to heat, especially since this winter has been so cold.”

She was apologizing for keeping warm! Cade's anger ballooned. If he'd toyed with any doubts about trying to recover her money, they now dissipated. But he didn't say a word. He simply let her talk.

“I've only got a month left before the man at the pawnshop is legally entitled to sell the last of my stuff,” she continued in a very quiet voice. “I keep hoping and praying my money will come in time to recover my most precious things, but— I'm leaving that up to God.” She gulped, surreptitiously brushed away a tear and forced a smile. “Tell me about your horses that are having babies.”

So for the rest of the journey into town Cade babbled about mares and foals and how he raised them, but his mind wouldn't let go of the grim fact that she'd had to pawn her jewelry to stop from freezing to death.

Cade figured he must have told a good story about ranching because by the time they arrived at the seniors' center, Abby's eyes danced with anticipation.

“I want to be there when the horses give birth,” she insisted. In the short time she'd been on the ranch the sallow tone of her skin had been replaced by a lovely rose that gave her cheeks a healthy glow. The big, generous smile he remembered from when Max had introduced them seemed back to stay.

Cade still had doubts about bringing Abby to the ranch, but at the moment he was fiercely glad he'd taken her away from her drafty house, the bill collectors and those who smeared Max's sacrifice by withholding the payments she was due.

“Looks like half the town's here,” he said, irritated that he couldn't park nearer the entrance.

“Good. It'll be even more fun if the whole town gets involved in making the adoption agency happen.” She gathered up a stuffed satchel she'd brought and reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” he ordered. “I'll help you.” But by the time he got to the other side of the truck, Abby was reaching down with one toe, trying to feel her way onto the truck's running board. “You are a stubborn woman,” he told her as he helped her descend.

“That must be hard for you,” she agreed, grinning as she peeked through her lashes at him. “Especially since you're just as stubborn.”

Cade couldn't stifle his shout of laughter as he walked her inside the building. A second later he choked it back, intimidated by the group of people who turned to stare at them.

“Abby, I'm delighted you came. And you brought Cade. Just the man we need for several jobs.” Mayor Marsha swooped down on them and drew them both forward.

Cade almost groaned. He didn't want any part of this. He had his own work to do, including finding a buyer for the ranch. But how could he refuse to repair the loosening banister the mayor showed him? Or ignore the loose carpet corner that very well might trip Abby? Seniors needed those things in a center they used frequently and Cade couldn't find any excuse not to complete the other items on the list the mayor handed him.

It would be churlish to refuse and downright silly to drive all the way back to the ranch and then return to pick up Abby, so Cade got to work. But in spite of his refusal to get involved, he couldn't help listening to the discussion as he worked.

“I want to announce that Wanda Scranton has purchased the old hotel with the intention of opening an adoption agency which will also be a place where moms-to-be can come as a sanctuary, a kind of home to stay and await the birth of the child she wishes to give for adoption,” Marsha informed the group after she'd called them to order.

Applause mingled with surprise and almost everyone clapped.

“As a building, it should work very well. The rooms are a nice size with those big, old-fashioned windows that let the sun in,” Marsha continued. “Wanda is already speaking with builders about renovations the government requires. She's hoping it won't cost too much to make changes.”

A sense of excitement rippled through the room. Abby, head bent, doodled on a pad she'd brought along.

“On the staffing side, Holly Janzen, our nurse practitioner, has agreed to act as midwife if the birth mom wants that rather than hospital. Holly's fully qualified, of course, and she can call Doc Treple for backup. He's agreed to that. Wanda will need other personnel, of course, but for now she'd like suggestions on what you think needs doing to make her agency a Buffalo Gap success.”

“I think it will take work to make that place homier, less institutional,” Karina Denver said. “I had this idea that handmade quilts might lend that touch to the rooms. Maybe we could even give them to the birth mom or send them home with the child.” She grimaced and shrugged. “Of course, I have no idea how to make quilts.”

Muted laughter filled the room.

“I know how. I could teach you,” Abby volunteered. “I've quilted since I was eight.”

“You're sure it's okay in your condition?” Karina asked with a tentative glance at Abby's stomach.

Cade frowned. Everyone in town knew how badly Karina wanted a baby. But she and Jake were childless and Abby was obviously pregnant. Wouldn't working with Abby make it harder for Karina? His reservations were smothered by the excited responses of others gathered around the table at the mention of quilting.

“I'm perfectly fit to quilt,” Abby insisted, her cheeks bright pink now that everyone's attention was on her. “There are many patterns to choose from. How many rooms will there be?”

“Twelve.” Mayor Marsha frowned. “But I don't know if Wanda can afford fabric for that many quilts.”

“Maybe she won't need to.” Abby remained silent for a moment, then smiled. “Why not put out a call for leftover fabric? We can make scrap quilts.”

“That's a lot of quilting,” someone else said, echoing Cade's reservations.

“It is. I wish I still had my mom's long-arm quilting machine,” Abby mused, a faraway look in her eyes. “It would make the quilting part go much faster.”

Just by glancing at her face, Cade knew she'd pawned it along with her rings. His gut burned at the thought that she'd been forced to part with things she must treasure. But Abby didn't look gloomy or depressed.

“We'll have to leave it with God and see what He works out.” That sparkle was back in her eyes. “Or...” she dragged it out for maximum impact. “We could have quilting bees.” She grinned at the others' obvious approval. “We could set up a frame at someone's house and get together to quilt like they did in the old days. With all of us working together, it won't take long.”

“Years ago we had a group like that in Buffalo Gap but we kind of lost interest.” Mayor Marsha was obviously intrigued. “Do you have a quilting frame, Abby?”

“No.” Abby's head lifted and her eyes met Cade's. “But I know someone who could make one.” She winked at him. “Leave it with me.”

Cade added
build a quilt frame
to his to-do list.

“Those are wonderful ideas. Now let's move on to the next piece of business,” Mayor Marsha decreed.

Cade had no idea what a quilt frame even looked like, let alone how to build one. But thanks to Abby, he had an idea about how he could find common ground with his dad.

* * *

“So I thought maybe we could figure out a way to get back Abby's rings and her mom's quilting machine,” Cade said to his father later that night after everyone had gone to bed.

How?
Ed scrawled across his pad.

“That's the part I need your help with,” Cade admitted. “But it seems to me that since Max gave his life for our country the least we should be able to do is help out his wife. So will you think about it, let me know if you come up with any ideas?”

Ed studied him for several minutes, then shrugged and nodded.

“Thanks, Dad. And don't tell anyone. I'd like to keep this between us if I could. Abby's proud. I don't think she'd want anyone to know she had to pawn her things.” Cade sipped his coffee, knowing he couldn't stay much longer. He had to get back to the horse barn. “It looks like we're going to have a new foal tonight,” he told Ed.

For the first time in ages Cade actually felt comfortable talking ranch with his father. Maybe Abby was right; maybe this relationship could be salvaged.

Raise the foals?
his father wrote on the pad.

Cade shook his head.

Why not?

“Justine Brunfeld has already given me a deposit for the first six foals we get that aren't thoroughbreds. She's asked me to halter break them. She intends to add them to her riding academy.” Cade hadn't promised because he wasn't sure he'd still be here. He sighed as his father jerked upright in his chair. “I know you don't want to sell, Dad, but we need the money.”

We need the foals to build our herd.

The herd we're going to sell? Cade didn't say it because of the carved lines of age and worry deepening around Ed's dark eyes.

“The Double L has always raised thoroughbreds. I don't want to weaken our brand and the foals aren't thoroughbreds,” Cade explained. But it was no use. His father didn't feel that should be his decision alone. They'd been over this topic a hundred times before. “I have to go back to the barn,” Cade said, rising. “We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

I decide.
Ed shook the yellow tablet to emphasize his displeasure.

The truce was over. There would be no reconciliation this night.

“You can't run the ranch until you're up and walking, Dad,” Cade said in his quietest voice. “And if you won't do your exercises we both know that isn't going to happen. So in the meantime, I'll decide. You gave me control, remember?”

His father's face turned red and he opened and closed his mouth powerlessly.

“I'm doing what I think is best,” Cade told him. “I'm sorry if that's not good enough.” While his father stabbed the black marker against the yellow pad in a series of angry words, Cade turned away. “Good night, Dad,” was all he said before he walked to the kitchen.

He rinsed his coffee mug in the sink, wishing it didn't have to be this way, wishing God would change something. But then God hadn't answered his prayers in a very long time.

“Bad night?” Abby sat wrapped in a blanket on the corner window seat. “Coffee won't help you sleep.”

“I hope not.” He smiled at her curious look. “I'm drinking it to keep me awake. I think we'll have some new foals by morning.”

“Can I come and see?” Her emerald eyes stretched wide with excitement. “Please, Cade? I promise I won't get in your way.”

“Abby, it's cold out there—” But she cut him off.

“I'll dress warmly and bring a blanket. I've never seen anything born.” Her voice was part awe, part reverence. “And I want to so badly. Please let me come, Cade.”

Against his better judgment he acquiesced. How could he deny such a simple pleasure to this woman who'd had to give up so much?

“Go put on the warmest clothes you have,” he ordered. “I have to gather some stuff. Meet me back here in ten minutes. Okay?”

“Yes.” She rose, her smile huge. “Thank you, Cade,” she said before she hurried from the room.

How did Abby's smile have the ability to thaw the part of his heart that had always been frozen, the part that had always yearned for love?

Chapter Five

“Y
ou're going to take pictures?”

Abby smiled when Cade's wide-eyed gaze swung from the camera around her neck to her face.

“I want to capture every marvelous moment of this birth,” she explained. He didn't say a word but his expression spoke volumes. “If I get anything good, I might blow it up. Maybe we could use it to decorate the walls in the adoption agency. I'd call it
Moms and Babies
.” He just kept looking at her. It unnerved Abby. “You think I'm being silly.”

“I didn't say that.” He dragged open the door and waited for her to enter the barn.

You didn't have to
, she thought.
I'm beginning to understand what your expressions mean
.

“I don't know how good your photos will be because you'll have to stay outside Recitation's stall,” Cade warned. “For your safety. I piled up a couple of bales for you to sit on so at least you can put your feet up.”

“Thank you.” Abby accepted his hand to climb onto the thick blanket he'd spread over the bales. A feeling of coddled protectiveness swelled as he laid another blanket over her legs and tucked it around her. “I'm warm as toast,” she told him, deeply touched by his consideration.

“Good.” Cade's gaze rested on her stomach for a moment, lifted to meet hers, then slewed away. He turned, opened the gate and stepped inside a large pen in which an anxious black horse paced. “Hello, beauty,” he said, his tone oozing reassurance.

The horse pricked her ears as she looked at him, snorted once, then bunted him with her sweaty head. Abby snapped a shot. “She doesn't look upset.”

“She isn't.” Cade twisted his head to grin at her when the horse whinnied. “The lady has done this before. She's reminding me she wants peace and quiet while she's preparing for birth.”

Cade's blue eyes roved over the animal while his big palms gently smoothed over her flanks, checking for signs that the birth was progressing normally. All the while he murmured soft encouragement. When the horse nudged him away, he stepped back.

“Is she okay?” Abby asked anxiously.

“She's fine, though she'd prefer Dad to be with her right now. He raised Recitation from a filly so she favors him. Guess she'll just have to tolerate me instead of Dad tonight.” Cade sat down on a bale in the corner. “You're doing well, Mama, so I'll leave you alone,” his voice brimming with affection.

“Leave her alone? That's it?” Abby flushed when Cade chuckled at her disgusted tone.

“I don't like intervening with foaling unless absolutely necessary. Recitation knows what she's doing.” He shrugged. “I'm here just in case.”

But despite those words, Abby noticed Cade didn't really sit and wait. Every so often he approached the horse using a soft, calming voice as he slid his hands over her to assess her progress. Entranced by the evident bond between them, she snapped pictures of the laboring mare from many angles, waiting patiently until Cade stood just the right way with the light on his face so she could include him in the frame. Through the lens, Abby saw the gentle man her troubled husband had spoken of so affectionately.

The more Cade worked with the horse, the more his demeanor changed. His face lost all signs of the stress it usually wore. The standoffish belligerence he'd used like a shield to keep people away when he'd taken her to the meeting in town evaporated. Now a warm glint lit his eyes and the sternness of his features melted, giving way to a boyish grin and a smothered chuckle when Recitation eased her head under his hand for a pat.

Cade seemed to forget Abby was there so she used the opportunity to take many pictures, trying to capture his pleasure in this moment.

“Okay, girl, we're getting down to business now, aren't we?” Cade moved beside the horse, his sensitive fingertips assessing her burgeoning midsection as she strained and grunted.

He seemed unsurprised and stepped nimbly out of the way when Recitation suddenly lay down, rolled, then regained her footing only to nuzzle around in the hay, making nests.

Confused, Abby finally asked, “Is something wrong with her?”

“She's getting ready. It won't be long now. I think the human equivalent is when pregnant women clean the house.” Cade spared her a grin before his attention returned to the horse. “It will happen quickly so have your camera ready.”

Cade's words continued in a soft drawl, leaving Abby amazed at his communication with Recitation, as much through a stroke here and a caress there as by any words he spoke.

“Watch,” Cade ordered as the mare's legs strained. Moments later a soot-black foal was born. Recitation proudly cleaned off her baby and nudged it to its feet. Cade leaned against the pen, beside Abby, his smile huge. “Isn't he a beaut? Big and strong. He's great Double L stock even if he's not a thoroughbred.”

“But he's not breathing.” Abby held her breath, concerned that she could see no sign of movement in the small chest.

“He's breathing. He's just tired. He worked hard to get here.” Cade touched Recitation's head with an affectionate brush. “So did you. Good job, Mama. You're a real trouper.” Recitation nuzzled his chest and Cade laughed. “Yes, I have a treat for you.” He held out a carrot. The horse quickly nipped it out of his hands, drawing more laughter from Cade. To Abby he looked as proud as any father.

“What happens now?” she asked, utterly awestruck by the amazing spectacle she had just witnessed.

“They bond. You can come in the pen now. Recitation wants to show off her new son.” He opened the gate, then waited.

Abby slid off the hay and walked toward him. She stepped inside the pen hesitantly, awed by the strength and power of the horse.

“Don't be afraid.” Cade slid his hand under her elbow, his fingers firm as he drew her forward.

“I'm not afraid.” And she wasn't, at least not afraid of the horse.

But Cade, like this, soft, gentle, tender—that sent a confusing shaft of fear through her. Was she letting him get too close?

For some reason Abby's skin grew warm under Cade's fingers though it couldn't possibly be from his touch because there were layers of clothes between it and her arm. And the way her breath snagged in her throat had nothing to do with the horse and her colt.

“She's beautiful,” she finally managed, tears welling as she thought of her own children's births to come and wondering if she would do as well in labor as Recitation. Would Cade be there to help her? She glanced up and found him staring at her.

“Are you crying?” he asked in disbelief.

“How can I not?” she asked, half embarrassed by the tears tumbling down her cheeks. “Birth is such an affirmation of everything God gives. Max never understood—” She bit her lip, unwilling to let Cade see the troubled side of her marriage.

Guilt overwhelmed her and suddenly Abby was incapable of suppressing her sobs. She stood there, helpless and hurting. A moment later Cade's arms closed tentatively around her shoulders. After a second of hesitation, he gently drew her closer and brushed away her tears with his thumbs.

“Max wouldn't like these,” he said, his voice low.

“No. He hated tears. Said they made him feel helpless,” she agreed with a sniff.

“I know exactly how he felt.” Cade said nothing more but he didn't have to. His comfort, the willingness to let her stand there until she could regain her composure, said more than any words could have.

Abby reveled in feeling cherished, protected, confident that if she leaned on Cade he would always support her. Only thing was, she could not let herself get used to leaning on him. She had to stand on her own two feet.

Once she'd regained control, Abby stepped away and swiped the back of her hands across her cheeks. She ignored the immediate sense of loss that washed over her.

“Sorry. That doesn't happen as often now, but—”

“Sometimes his loss still catches you unprepared.” She was surprised by Cade's nod of understanding. “I miss him a lot, too,” he said quietly. “He was my best friend.” After a moment he drew her nearer to the colt that now stood on wobbly legs beside his mother. “Recitation has produced our best colts for years. She's an amazing horse.”

The tone of his voice, the way his eyes glowed, the fierce pride in his words made Abby study his face more closely.

“You really love all this—” She waved a hand. “Ranching, I mean. The land, the animals—all of it. This is where you belong.”

“Do I?” Cade twisted his head to stare at her, his expression altering into the familiar mask that hid his emotions better than a shield.

“I think so. I can see it in the way you relate to the animals.” Cade's lips tightened and his body stiffened slightly but Abby continued to speak, certain she was right. “I don't know much about ranching,” she admitted, “but I don't need to in order to see how you feel about Recitation and the others. They're part of you. This place is part of you. No wonder you're working so hard to keep this legacy of your father's going.”

He blinked, his eyes glowing with intensity as they studied her. His lips parted as if he would speak but then he clamped them together, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say.

A sadness washed through Abby. For a moment she had felt so close to him, hoped he might open up to her, let her see what was beneath the brooding anger he kept so tightly bound, as Max never had. But then Cade's shields went up. He shut her out and she didn't know why.

With a sigh she turned her focus on Recitation and her foal.

“The Creator made us just as He made this colt. He knows everything about us. It reminds me of that passage in Luke where Jesus is talking about our daily needs and He says not to worry about getting what we need because God knows exactly what we need and that He will always provide.”

Cade's whole body jerked.

“I wish He would,” Cade muttered as he turned away. He checked the feed bag and water trough, then motioned for them to leave Recitation's stall. Abby followed pensively.

“What makes you think He hasn't?” she asked when they were standing outside the stall. “You live on this amazing place, which you share with your father. Your animals are reproducing. Mrs. Swanson says your beef is in high demand. Your life seems on track here.”

“Maybe it looks that way,” he said brusquely.

“Your life isn't on track?” she asked curiously. “Why? What do you need?”

“Maybe a way to make my father better.” Cade turned on her, his blue eyes shooting sparks. “Or maybe a way to get him to look at me as his son instead of the dumb hired hand who can't take two steps without fighting for some respect.” He clamped his lips together.

The pain underlying those words helped Abby understand. Cade wanted what his father gave so freely to Ivor; he wanted to be appreciated, loved.

“This might sound counterintuitive to you, Cade,” she said, wishing she knew how to heal his hurting heart. “But I don't think your father argues with you because of who you are or because of anything you've done.”

He lifted one eyebrow in a question, waiting for her to continue.

“I think Ed fights with you because he's angry at himself, at what he can't do and feels he should. I think he feels he's putting all the load of running this place on you.” Abby shifted, a little unnerved by her temerity in broaching such a sensitive subject.

“Then why doesn't he work harder at his exercises so he can get better and take back the reins of this place?” Cade demanded in a tight, hard tone.

“What if he does that and nothing changes?” Abby asked softly. “What if he invests every ounce of courage and strength he has in trying to recover and it doesn't happen?”

Cade studied her with a frown.

“Don't you see, can't you understand?” she asked, irritated by his blindness. “Your father is desperately afraid that even if he does everything he can to recover, he might still fail. I believe he fears that if that does happen he'll lose you, the ranch, everything that matters most to him.”

Cade lifted his head and stared at her, locking his gaze with hers. Abby shivered at the intensity reflected there but her heart bumped at the flicker of hope that danced to life for a few brief moments.

Until Cade said, “Not possible. I never mattered. And my father was never afraid of anything.” He added with conviction, “Never.”

“Maybe once, he wasn't. But the strokes stole his confidence, Cade. Now he can't do the simplest thing he never gave a thought to doing before.” Abby let a smile curve her lips when he shot her an indignant glare, as if to ask who she was to believe she knew his father better than he did.

“I'm not sure—”

“It's a kind of role reversal,” she said. “You're the strong one now and he needs you. I think Ed's afraid that he'll never be the dad you remember, the strong, capable man who was always in control. And that terrifies him.”

“Really?” Surprise made Cade's eyes widen for a moment. Then he frowned and shook his head. “I doubt that.”

“Think about it,” she coaxed. “He's gone from being strong, independent and running the ranch on his own, to having to write his needs on a pad of paper. He must chafe at the dependency that now rules his life.”

“So we're back to my original question. Why doesn't God do something to make him better?” Cade's frustration was obvious.

“I don't know. Maybe He is doing something. Have you talked to Him about it?” Abby inclined her head, waiting.

“I don't speak to God,” Cade muttered.

“Then how can you fault Him for not helping you?” Abby walked to Liberty's stall and petted the horse. She chuckled at the snickered response. “Yes, I brought an apple.” She let the horse snatch it out of her hand before looking straight at Cade. “Your response is irrational. Not talking to God is like expecting Ed to do something without ever talking to him. That's not a relationship.”