Читать книгу A Dad for Her Twins - Lois Richer - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCade 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.
Why? Though Cade was loath to cause her more stress, he owed it to Max to find out.
It felt good to lift Abby out of the truck and support her over the slippery sidewalk to the front door. As he did, Cade considered and discarded a hundred reasons she might not want him here but found nothing that would explain her oddly unwelcoming manner. He waited as she fished in her pocket for her key, wondering if she’d change her mind about him coming in. But she did not open the door. Instead she turned to face him, blocking the entry.
“Thank you for your help, Cade. I appreciate you remembering Max today. And I really want to thank you for the ride home.” A tiny smile danced across her lips. “I was tired.”
Cade didn’t move. Abby’s eyebrow arched.
“I can’t leave until I make sure you get safely inside.” Though she tossed him a frustrated look, Cade didn’t budge. “Want me to open the door for you?”
“No, I don’t. Thank you.” Her green eyes blazed at him for a few seconds more. Then with a harrumph that expressed everything from exasperation to frustration, Abby stabbed the key into the lock and twisted it. “See? Everything is fine. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Cade had never felt less certain that everything was fine. Maybe it was rude and pushy, but this was necessary. He reached past her and twisted the door handle while he nudged his booted toe against the door. Abby made a squeak of protest and grabbed for the doorknob. But it was too late.
“Abby?” He let his gaze travel twice around the empty interior before returning to her face. “Where’s your furniture? Where’s...anything?”
“I’m—er—moving,” she stammered. With a sigh she stepped inside and urged him in, too, before shutting out the cold air. “This place is too big for me. I’m moving out today.” Her chin thrust upward. Her voice grew defensive. “I’ve decided to make some changes.”
“Now?” Cade gaped at her in disbelief. “Three months before your due date?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe that. What’s really going on, Abby?”
She turned away from him to remove her coat and toss it over a packing box. He wondered why, since the room was quite chilly. Confused and troubled, he waited for her answer, stunned when her narrow shoulders began to tremble. Her muffled sob broke the silence and made him feel like a bully.
“You need to sit down and relax,” he said with concern. But where could she sit? There was no furniture, nothing but a derelict wooden chair that looked as if the slightest whoosh of air would send it toppling over.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. But she wasn’t and they both knew it.
With his gut chiding him for not getting here sooner, and at a loss to know what to do now that he was, Cade gently laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
“I just want to help, Abby. Please, tell me how.” He waited. When she didn’t respond he softened his voice. “I couldn’t help Max,” he murmured, his breath catching on the name. “I will always regret that. Please let me help you.”
Abby edged away from him, moved behind the kitchen counter and leaned one hip against it. In that moment her mask of control slid away and he saw fear vie with sadness.
“I’ve lost the house,” she whispered. “Our dear little house, the one Max and I bought together, the one we had such dreams for—I’ve lost it.”
“Lost it?” Cade frowned. “What happened? Why didn’t you come to me?” he demanded, aghast.
Abby’s head lifted. She pulled her hair free of the hair band, tossed back the muss of curls that now framed her face and glared at him.
“Come to you?” Her green eyes avoided his. “You dutifully phone me every so often like a good friend of Max’s would, and that is wonderful.” Her chin thrust out. “But even if I could have found you, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“So you wouldn’t have called me no matter what.” He blinked. “Why?”
“Because I’m managing, or at least, I thought I was.” Her chin dropped and so did her voice. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.”
The pathos combined with a lack of expression in her words told Cade he needed to act.
“Do you have any coffee—or tea?” he revised, thinking that in her condition she probably didn’t drink coffee. “Or have you packed everything?”
“I used up the last of the groceries. Everything I own is in those two boxes over there.” Abby pointed. “That’s what’s left of my life.” She looked around. “I sold the rest because I needed the money.”
Cade knew how that felt. He’d come home to find the ranch hugely in debt because of his father’s mismanagement. Only recently had he begun to crawl out. But how had Abby gotten in that condition? A second later he decided it didn’t matter. The petite woman with the bowed shoulders and exhausted face touched a spot deep inside his heart. There was no way he could leave her to manage on her own.
“Tell me what happened so I can help,” he coaxed softly.
“You can’t. The bank has foreclosed on the house. If I’m not gone by six today, they have a sheriff coming who will come forcibly move me out.” Her breath snagged but she regrouped and finished, saying, “I’ve done everything I can to make things work. But they don’t work.”
“Abby.” Someone else needed him. He wanted to turn and run away from the responsibility but then he looked at her, and her amazing green eyes clutched onto his heart and refused to let go. How could he leave her alone?
“I’m homeless, Cade.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t have a home for Max’s babies. I may have to give them up.”
Though a whisper, the words echoed around the empty room. Cade stared at her in disbelief, everything in him protesting.
“You can’t,” he finally sputtered.
“I might have no choice.”
Something flickered in the depths of Abby’s amazing eyes. Hope? In him? “A friend of mine will let me camp on her couch but she’s no better off than me and I can’t stay there long. She’s moving, too.”
Promise me that you’ll be there if ever Abby needs you, Cade.
I promise, Max.
Cade sucked oxygen into his starved lungs, pressed his lips together and muttered, “Okay, buddy.”
“What?” Abby stared at him frowning.
Cade ignored her, walked to the corner, hefted the two boxes into his arms and carried them outside to his truck. When he returned, Abby was still standing where he’d left her, frowning. She watched him, that faint glimmer of hope draining out of her eyes. Her defiance had withered away, leaving her small, huddled and, he sensed, very afraid. No way could he leave her like that.
Cade picked up her coat and gently helped her into it.
“What are you doing, Cade?”
“Say your goodbyes, Abby.” He fastened the top two buttons of her coat before moving his hands to her shoulders and gently squeezing. “We’re leaving.”
“To go where?” She eased free of his hands. Her eyes searched his for answers.
“We’ll talk about that after lunch. I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t be long.” Cade pulled the warped front door closed on his way out, guessing it was another of the projects Max had planned for this old house.
As Cade stood on the doorstep waiting for Abby, his mind tied itself in knots. What was he to do with her? He had no money to give her, he knew no one in the city with room to take her, and he was fairly certain she wouldn’t stay with a stranger in Buffalo Gap.
He thought about what Abby had said earlier about God having a plan.
“Would You mind clueing me in?” he muttered. “Because I haven’t got any idea how to help Max’s wife. A little divine intervention sure would come in handy.”
Past prayers hadn’t brought many answers for Cade. As he waited for Abby, today didn’t seem any different. The only solution he could think of was to take Abby back to the ranch, and Lord knew how that would turn out.
Putting a delicate pregnant widow under the same roof as his bitter, angry father? That was asking for trouble. But what choice did he have?
Cade figured that with Abby at the ranch, he’d be calling on God, a lot.
* * *
From the moment Max had introduced his best friend, Abby had realized that Cade, like Max, was a man who seized control. Today she was going to sit back and let him.
What else could she do?
She’d prayed so hard. She’d trusted and waited and prayed. Now she’d run out of options. Maybe Cade was God’s answer to her prayers. If Max’s buddy could think of a way to help her out of this mess, she’d grab it with thanks because she’d used up all the options she could think of and she was too tired to do anything more.
Aware of Cade’s presence just outside the door, Abby pressed her knuckled fist against her lips to muffle her sob of loss. A memory of Max’s booming voice echoed through her mind.
This is our home. You and I together will make it so.
Only it never had been. From the first day of their impetuous marriage she’d known something was wrong between them. Max had been generous, loving and kind but he’d never really let her get truly close, never let her help when the night terrors woke him or a sound made him startle. Too late, Abby had realized that Max had chosen her because she was safe; he’d called her his refuge. She’d stayed with him because she’d promised to love him forever and Abby, the missionary’s daughter, could not break that promise.
Stiffening her shoulders, Abby walked through the rooms as fragments of memories flooded her mind. The windowpanes she’d scrubbed free of paint. The old wooden floors they’d refinished. The mounds of wallpaper they’d raced to remove. But memories were a blessing and a curse, so finally she returned to the front door, shoulders back, exhaling the past. She’d cried enough over her failure to be what Max needed. Whatever solution Cade offered, it had to be better than the misery and fear she’d endured here since Max’s death.
“Goodbye, Max,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I failed to love you the way you needed. I know it was my fault. I’m not the kind of woman you should have married. I didn’t have enough strength to force you to get the help you should have had. If I had, maybe you would have retired or opted out of Special Forces into some other branch of service instead of going on that mission to Afghanistan. Maybe then you wouldn’t have died.”
She gulped, swallowing the last of her regrets because there was nothing she could change now.
“I won’t make that mistake again, Max. I’ll focus on loving our babies. Maybe then I can make up for failing you.” Then she walked out to meet Cade.
“Ready?” He waited for her nod, his face implacable. “Let’s go, then.”
He closed and locked the front door. But this time when he scooped her up and set her inside the truck, Abby was prepared. Even so, her breath caught when his face loomed mere inches from hers and his breath feathered over her cheeks. She told herself her reaction was purely hormonal, that she’d missed that kind of male strength.
Abby composed herself as Cade drove her to a warm, homey restaurant with tantalizing aromas that made her stomach growl. Relieved he’d asked for a table instead of a booth where she wouldn’t fit, Abby snuggled a mug of steaming peppermint tea in her palms as they waited for their food order to arrive.
“I know Max didn’t have any family left but he never told me much about you, Abby. Do you have family?” Cade asked.
“None that I know of.” She smiled at his questioning look. “I was three when I was adopted. My parents were older, very strict and the most loving people I’ve ever known. I adored them. To me they’re my true parents. I never wanted or needed anyone else. I guess that’s why I never felt compelled to discover my birth history.”
“I see.” Cade sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Your adoptive parents are gone now?” His brows drew together when she nodded. “So there’s no one you can contact for help?”
“I’m afraid not.” Warmth rose at the concern Abby saw on his face. How wonderful it felt to have someone worry about her, even for a moment. “I’m not your problem, Cade. I’ll figure out something.” As if she hadn’t tried. He didn’t need to know that, although he’d probably guessed she was out of options.
“Max said you were a social worker.”
“I am.” Abby leaned back, closed her eyes and smiled. “The day I learned in third grade that not every kid had parents like mine was the day I decided I was going to be the one to help kids find the best parents they could. It’s a job I love. I’d still be doing it, too, if the government hadn’t cut back and laid me off.”
Abby could feel his sympathy, could see it in the softening of his baby-blue eyes. The rancher was big and comfortable and—nice, she decided, choosing the simple word. Cade was genuinely nice.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said, trying to disguise the sourness that sometimes bubbled inside. “There aren’t any less children who need help. And there are even fewer workers to handle all the cases. But—” She shrugged. “What can I do? I was out of work and I couldn’t find another job, no matter how hard I looked.”
“And then you learned you were pregnant.” Cade looked straight at her. “That must have been a frightening time, to be alone, without a job, knowing you’re going to have twins. I wish you’d told me when I called. I would have come to help you, you know.”
“I do know.” Touched, she reached out to brush his hand with her fingers, to comfort him. “But I felt I had to handle things on my own.”
Abby’s heart melted as she watched Cade helplessly rake a hand through his very short black hair. His lean, chiseled face had lost some of its harshness, though the lines around his eyes and full lips remained and the cleft in his chin deepened with his frown.
“It’s okay, Cade,” she murmured.
“It isn’t okay at all. Max would never have allowed you to handle this alone.” His voice tightened, dropped to a low growl. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Abby.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just a problem I have to figure out.” She was glad their server brought their meals just then. Maybe eating would ease the strain that was building and help them both avoid awkward, useless moments of regret. She scrounged up a smile. “I haven’t had a turkey dinner in aeons,” she said, licking rich gravy off her fork.
“Christmas wasn’t that long ago.” Cade paused, lifted his head and stared at her. His pupils widened. “You didn’t have Christmas dinner, did you?” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, Abby.”
She’d made him feel guilty again. She knew because she carried her own load. But she didn’t want Cade’s guilt. So what did she want? Because Abby didn’t want to explore that thought she set down her fork and reassured him.
“Actually I did have Christmas dinner, Cade. I’ve been volunteering at a kids’ shelter and they served a lovely meal.” She chuckled. “But I didn’t have much time to enjoy it.”
“Why?” Cade crunched on a pickle as he waited for her to explain.
“One of the kids ran away, so we went looking for her.” Abby liked the way Cade chewed slowly, appreciating the nuances of flavor in his food. “Searching took most of the day. By the time we found her, I was too tired to eat. Anyway, everything was cold.”
She picked up her fork and chose a square of dark meat. Fork midway to her mouth, she blinked and paused, suddenly uneasy under his scrutiny. “What?”
“Can I ask you something?” He waited for her nod, forehead furrowed, his left hand, the one lying on the table, clenching and unclenching. “You spoke of giving up Max’s, er, your babies?”
Abby swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.
“But—you can’t!” he protested, his voice sounding loud in the almost-deserted dining room. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened into a grim line as he spoke in a lowered tone. “Abby, you cannot possibly be considering giving away Max’s children!”
“Do you think I want to?” she gasped as tears welled. “These are my children, part of me.” She set down her fork, no longer hungry. Emotions rose through her like a tidal wave but she forced them back in the struggle to make him understand. “These children are the most precious thing in my life. I would do anything, anything—” she emphasized “—to give them the best life they can possibly have.”
“Then why in the world—”
“The best life,” she repeated softly through the tears filling her throat. “Max’s children deserve that. But homelessness, lack of money, a life on the street—that is not the best life for them. Yet, at the moment, that’s all I can offer them.” She shook her head. “No child deserves that. I have to at least consider foster care.”
“Lack of money?” he said, honing in on her words. “But won’t Max’s military benefits cover everything you need?”
“I haven’t received any.”
“What?” Cade stared at her in disbelief. He shook his head. “Why?”
“The military says he never informed them he was married, never filled out the forms. He was also behind on paying his insurance premiums, probably because of the down payment we made on the house,” she said with a sad smile.
“But it’s been months since—” Cade clamped his lips together.
“Since he died, I know.” She sighed. “I sent them a copy of our marriage license, but they say that until they are able to verify its authenticity or legality or something, I can’t receive any funds. That’s why I didn’t have enough to pay the mortgage or power bills or...” Tears erupted in a flow Abby couldn’t staunch. She bent her head and let them fall, ashamed of her weakness but utterly weary of fighting.
Cade fell silent. After she regained control, Abby peeked through her lashes and found him staring at her, his blue eyes brimming with anger or perhaps disbelief? When he opened his mouth, his voice emerged in a squeak of protest that Abby shushed by reaching across and grabbing his clenched fist.
“It’s true,” she assured him.
“I know you’re not lying, Abby.” He drew his hand away as if he didn’t like her touching him. He leaned back and thought it over for several moments, then jerked his head in a nod. “It’s just that I never heard of the military withholding benefits when...”
“Well, that’s what they’ve done.” Abby sighed. “I think it might kill me to give up my babies, even for a short time,” she told him. “But I have to face the facts, and that’s a choice I might have to make if I can’t give them a home, food, safety. I have no intention of failing my children.” As I did Max.
Cade studied her for several long minutes. She knew something had changed when his broad shoulders went back and determination welled up in his blue eyes. He reached across the table, his hand closing around hers, squeezing tightly. Abby could only stare at him as the rough calluses on his skin brushed hers and wonder what the rush of emotions across his handsome face meant.
Was Cade God’s answer to her prayers?
“You have another choice, Abby,” he said in a clear, firm voice. “You can come to the ranch and stay until the babies are born. There’s plenty of room. Mrs. Swanson, our housekeeper, will be on hand if you need anything. You won’t have to lift a finger. You can rest and give the babies a rest, too. Stay as long as you need to get back on your feet.” His blue eyes locked with hers and held.
“But I can’t pay you,” she whispered.
“I don’t want anything,” Cade said in a brisk but firm voice. He stopped, shook his head. “Actually I do,” he corrected himself. “I want you to wait until Max’s children are born, to take some time before you make your decision about your future and theirs. Okay?”
Abby couldn’t believe it. God had sent her a place to stay, to wait for her babies’ arrival without fearing someone would hassle her about her bills, moving and everything else she’d been fighting. A little window of hope, that’s what Cade was offering. All she had to do was accept.
And yet, there was something in the depths of his kindly eyes, something that tugged at one corner of his mouth—something that made her stomach tighten with worry.
“What aren’t you saying, Cade?” she murmured.
Shutters flipped down over his eyes. He eased his hand from hers and leaned back, his big body tense.
“Come to the ranch, Abby. It’s better if you see the way things are for yourself. Then you can decide whether or not you want to stay.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Okay?”
Abby sat silent, thinking. God had opened this door, she knew it.
Max had trusted Cade with his life.
Maybe she was being weak by accepting this opportunity. Max would have expected her to handle her life without revealing that he’d left her unprotected. If he’d known she was pregnant he wouldn’t have left, but on the day she’d kissed him goodbye, the morning after she’d comforted him through a terrible nightmare, he went back to active duty in Afghanistan without knowing he was going to be a father. Neither of them had known what the future held.
She had no alternative but to accept Cade’s offer, just until the babies were born. Then she’d get on with her life, alone except for her babies.
“I’m ready,” she told him. “Let’s go to the Double L.”
