A Dad for Her Twins (11 page)

After a long moment of confused silence, Cade flicked the key in the ignition. In the deepest recesses of her heart Abby apologized to Max for failing him. Then she pushed back her shoulders and stared straight ahead.

The Bible said God had plans for her, plans to prosper her. It was time to find out what those plans were. Once or twice Cade tossed a surreptitious glance her way, clearly worried by what he'd heard.

A new thought dawned in Abby's mind. How did Cade fit in with the plans God had for her? And why was she so nervous around him?

He's a friend, that's all. A good friend. But he can never be anything more.

* * *

Something was different about Abby.

Cade didn't know exactly what it was or how to explain it. He couldn't comprehend what he'd heard her say at the cemetery. But this Abby was far different from the woman he'd brought into his home five weeks ago. When they returned home from her doctor visit, he'd shown her the sewing machine, utterly unprepared when she threw her arms around him and hugged him. Hugged him! A week had passed and he still couldn't get over it.

“As if I did you a big favor by spending a few bucks on that old wreck,” he'd sputtered when at last she pulled away from him.

“It isn't a wreck,” she'd insisted and brushed away the glitter of tears on her cheeks. “It's a wonderful blessing, Cade. Thank you. It's going to help me do what God has planned.”

He still didn't understand her strange words about Max, or her claim that he'd suffered from stress disorder. He'd replayed them often in his mind, searching for some clue yet unable to find it. Max was tough, strong. He'd never been afraid in his life. She had to be wrong about him.

But Abby had been Max's wife. She would have known. Cade had stifled all his questions until a later date, but he couldn't forget what she'd said.

Half an hour after he'd set up the sewing machine she got busy oiling and coaxing it into a perfectly humming appliance. Since then she'd spent hours in front of it, stitching tiny bits of colored fabric shapes into the most glorious quilt tops that would cheer even the crankiest of souls. Even his father's notes had teased her about her changed attitude.

“You can't just sit there watching me, Ed,” she'd told him with a grin. “You've got to dig in and give us a hand, be part of our project.”

Cade couldn't believe his father had agreed to help. Now every day found Ed clutching some tool called a rotary cutter in his good hand and using the other to hold a ruler, trimming lengths of fabric as instructed by Abby. Whenever Cade came into the house he heard Ed and Abby laughing, teasing and sharing, as they worked together. His father stumbled and halted as he tried to form the words, but at least he was trying. For some reason having his father spend all that time with Abby made Cade slightly jealous.

“'Tis a blessing she is to us,” Mrs. Swanson murmured from behind him, bringing Cade back to the present. Her accent always became more pronounced when she was emotionally touched.

Cade glanced at her over one shoulder, surprised to see her so affected. Then he turned back to watch the pair laugh at something.

“She won't let your pa cut an inch until he's done his exercises to her satisfaction,” Mrs. Swanson said after clearing her voice. “And I'll tell you, she's not easily pleased. Our Abby made Ed repeat his routine twice this morning and he was
laughing
at the end.”

Our Abby.
It seemed everyone had adopted her. The house phone rang constantly as folks from around the area asked for a few moments to consult with Abby. Sometimes it was about the adoption center, but other times she grew silent as she listened, her brows drawn together in concentration as she tried to help.

Cade tried to resist the sprout of envy that grew inside. Everyone hogged her time. He seldom found a spare moment with her alone anymore, unless the babies kept her awake at night. Then he'd come upon her, snuggled in the kitchen window seat, one of her own quilts wrapped around her as she pored over her Bible.

“Hello, Cade. I thought you'd gone out to the west pasture or something this morning.” Abby's words drew him out of his introspection. His breath caught as she lifted her glossy head and smiled at him, the familiar slash of white teeth across her pretty face setting his heart pumping faster. “Was everything all right out there?”

“Fine.” Her hands hovered above the machine as she studied him. “I'm about to take a coffee break. Can you join me? I have something to share.”

“Sure.” She left the fabric where it was, flicked off her sewing machine and rose. Despite her ever-expanding stomach, Abby walked with grace, stepping easily past the mounds of fabric that lay scattered in color-coordinated piles on the carpet around the room. “Come on, Ed. You need a break, too.”

Bossy.
Ed showed Cade the word he'd written and added a grumpy face beneath, but he obediently laid down his cutter and turned his wheelchair. Unfortunately one wheel caught in some fabric and he couldn't turn around.
More room
, he scrawled.

“That's what I want to talk to you about.” Cade quickly freed him and stood back so his father could roll his machine into the kitchen. He easily adjusted his body to balance himself for the turns and twists. Cade knew that was because of Abby's insistence on Ed's exercises. They were slowly paying off.

But Cade also knew it wasn't enough. Abby would leave eventually and Ed would lapse into his old ways. He needed to be in a place where the staff wouldn't allow that to happen. Somewhere like the local nursing home. Yet, Cade still needed a buyer for the ranch. When was God going to answer that prayer?

When Ed and Abby were seated at the table with steaming cups of coffee and fresh doughnuts piled on a plate in the middle, Cade waved to Mrs. Swanson.

“You're part of this, too,” he insisted. He sipped his coffee as he waited for her to sit down, noting the way Abby's curious green gaze kept flicking over his face. He suppressed his grin because he knew it made her more curious. “I've had an idea about a sort of workshop area for the quilting,” he explained at last.

“Really?” Abby's big smile beamed at him. “How wonderful. Tell us.”

“Years ago, before I joined the military, I used to run a riding school. Since I left, the building's been used mostly for storage.”

This was the hardest part, knowing his father would object to his idea. Though Ed got along great with Abby, he continued to dispute almost everything Cade did. Still, Cade pressed on because this was for Abby.

“I've spent the past few months cleaning it out, getting rid of junk and repairing things.” Ed opened his mouth. Cade hurried on before he could interrupt. “It's a very large area. I thought it might be just the place you need to spread out and work on your quilts.”

Ed smacked his cane on the floor when the words he wanted wouldn't come out of his mouth. He scrawled across his pad and held it up.
Dirty.

“Yes, it was,” Cade agreed. “But I've cleaned it thoroughly.”

Too cold
was Ed's next objection.

“We put water heat under the floor, remember, Dad?” Cade felt his idea was beginning to lose some of its shine but he pressed on anyway. “It hasn't been used in a while, but it should still work. If Abby thinks the place will be suitable, I'll hook up the water heater and test it out.”

“I think it's wonderful, Cade. It could be the answer to our prayers.” Abby pushed away her mug and the plate with her untouched doughnut. “Can we go look at it now?”

Cade glanced regretfully at his still-full coffee mug and half-eaten doughnut. Mrs. Swanson's doughnuts were his favorite and she didn't make them often.

“I guess we could,” he agreed with an inward sigh.

“Finish your coffee,” Abby said, retaking her seat. Her eyes twinkled. “I'm sure you haven't eaten since we enjoyed Mrs. Swanson's massive breakfast—what was it? Two hours ago? You must be starving,” she teased.

“Actually, I am.” Cade was about to take another bite of the doughnut when he noticed his father's crestfallen appearance. “Are you coming with us to look, Dad?” he asked, stuffing down the regret that he'd be giving up the private moments he could have shared with Abby. “You and Mrs. Swanson need to come.”

How?
his dad scrawled, hope vying with frustration in his eyes.

Cade thought about it for a moment, then grinned.

“I'll take you all in the sleigh,” he said. The warmth glowing from Abby's eyes made him feel like he was part of the group again.

Funny how that seemed so important.

“We'll have to be quick,” Mrs. Swanson said. “You've that meeting in town after lunch. Ivor's going to meet us there after school. I'm glad he came back yesterday. I've missed him.”

“We might just make it if we eat lunch as soon as we come back,” Cade said, checking his watch so they wouldn't notice how relieved he was that he wouldn't have to contend with the boy for a while. It was getting harder to reach Ivor. Five times he'd returned from relatives that didn't want him and with each return he seemed less reachable.

“Maybe you should save that for dessert?” Abby suggested, gazing meaningfully at the remainder of the doughnut he held.

“I guess.” He relinquished the tasty morsel to his plate. “I'll go harness the horses and bring the sleigh around. You guys get on some warm clothes.”

Cade rose to leave, but as he pulled on his jacket he felt the weight of someone watching him. He turned to find Abby gazing at him with her sweet smile.

“Thank you for trying to help by thinking of the building, Cade,” she murmured. “I believe God will bless your efforts.”

As he walked to the horse barn, Cade couldn't suppress feelings of shame. Abby put herself last in order to help others. Compared to her, he'd done little to help the adoption agency progress. Why would God bless his measly offer of an unused building?

As usual, Cade stopped by Liberty's stall to offer a pat and a carrot. The idea that plagued him day and night returned. To get the quilts completed, Abby needed that long-arm quilting machine. Getting it for her might be something God
would
bless.

“But even if I sold Liberty, I need the money for the ranch,” he said aloud. “I can't afford to give away that much cash.”

Sale of the ranch wasn't progressing. With such a cold winter, buyers seemed uninterested. Cade had to scrutinize every cent he spent to make sure he got the most value for his dollar, even more so now that he'd discovered how much paying for extra sessions for his dad, even if they could get them, would cost.

As he harnessed the horses to the sleigh the question that had been building inside now demanded an answer. Dare he sell his precious horse and buy Abby's machine? Dare he trust God to work out the rest?

Abby trusted God, but Cade wasn't ready to go that far. Not yet.

But if he took on the fund-raising wholeheartedly, maybe he could find someone else who'd contribute enough to buy Abby's machine.

He decided to wait and see how the building would work for Abby. She had a relationship with God so maybe He would work things out. Maybe.

Cade smiled, almost hearing Abby's voice chiding him for his lack of faith.

Chapter Eight

A
bby caught her breath at the beauty of the hoar-frosted morning at the ranch. She snuggled into the warmth of her coat, every sense on high alert as they glided toward the building, the sleigh runners making a hiss as they cut through the snow.

“It's so lovely.” She glanced at Cade to see if he was as affected as she. But then why would he be? This was his normal, everyday world. “This is like something you'd see in one of those snow globes that you turn upside down and shake. Ivor is going to be mad that he missed this sleigh ride.”

“We'll take him out another time.” The horses whinnied as Cade drew on the reins to stop them in front of a massive red structure with a curved metal roof. “Here we are. I'm going to help Dad out first, so you stay put.”

“Yes, sir.” Abby saluted, then whispered to Mrs. Swanson. “As if I could get out on my own in this condition.”

Cade ignored Mrs. Swanson's guffaw as he unfolded his father's traveling wheelchair and set it on the shoveled path. Then he basically lifted his father out of the sleigh and set him in it. “I shoveled the path but is it enough for you to make it to the door?”

“I'll help Ed. You help Abby.” Mrs. Swanson nimbly stepped down from the sleigh, gripped the wheelchair handles and began moving to the door of the building.

Cade walked toward Abby, filling her gaze, strong and handsome, a part of this land as surely as the frost-flocked pines that surrounded the yard. A rush of pride suffused her. Cade was such a good man, a man worth loving. She wished she'd kept in touch with some of her single friends from work. She could have introduced him to them. Cade needed someone to love him for who he was, someone to share his life's work with.

“Ready?” At her nod he slid his hands around her waist and lifted her out of the sleigh.

As Cade set her down, her gaze melded with his and Abby lost her breath. Her fingers tightened around his arms as the world swooshed and dipped before her.

“Okay?” he asked when she didn't immediately release him.

“Yes, just a bit dizzy. I must have moved too quickly,” she said and then thought how foolish that sounded. She hadn't really moved at all. Cade had moved her, both physically and emotionally.

She felt lighter since their visit to the graveyard, as if a burden had shifted off her. She was moving on with her life, but that didn't mean she intended to find someone to replace Max. Not that Cade would want that, either. She could hardly be considered desirable.

“Abby? Would you like to go back to the house? We can do this some other day if you're not feeling well.” The blue gaze of his revealed his disappointment.

“I'm fine, just had another idea for a quilt,” she said airily. And it was true; a quilt of multihued blues that she saw in his eyes would be amazing.

He helped her inside without saying a word, but she could feel his gaze on her, waiting for her reaction. That made her stomach flip so Abby turned her attention to survey the room.

“It's perfect,” she breathed, stunned by what she saw. She began to mentally organize the room into a workspace. “The church has those long folding tables. We could set them around the room. Cutting on that side,” she said, pointing to the only window. “Sewing on this side.”

Ed grunted and held out his pad.
Power?

“We will need electrical outlets for the sewing machines.” She nodded when Cade listed ways he could add more circuits.

As he spoke, Abby's mind drifted. He'd helped her in so many ways, even finding this wonderful room where people could gather, chat and work together. Saying thank-you hardly seemed enough. There had to be something she could do for him, or maybe give him.

“Abby?” His finger brushed her cheek. She realized she'd been caught daydreaming again. About him. “I'm sure your brain is whirling with all the things you plan to do,” he said. “But if we're to make that meeting, we have to leave.”

She glanced around. Mrs. Swanson and Ed waited by the door, watching her. Abby joined them as she pulled on her gloves.

“I think that if Cade can get the heating working and find a way to add more electrical outlets, this would be perfect for our quilting group. But we couldn't use it without your permission, Ed. After all, this is your ranch.”

And I can come here and cut the pieces?
Ed glanced up from his scribbled words, studying her, then Cade, his gaze revealing how desperately he wanted to be included.

“We couldn't do it without you,” Abby assured him. “It will depend on what your son can do.”

“I'll do my best. We'd better go now.” Cade shepherded them outside and into the sleigh. When his hands circled her waist, Abby realized she'd been holding her breath. She exhaled, thrilled yet perplexed by her reaction. Why did Cade cause this unusual effect?

With a little flick of Cade's wrist, the horses moved toward the house. The motion unsettled Abby a bit so that her shoulder rubbed his. He turned his head and grinned at her.

“After the babies come you'll have to learn how to ride.”

“I will?” Abby lifted an eyebrow in question. “Why?”

He listed reasons that left her bemused by the thought of his hands on hers. Images played through her mind of the two of them galloping across the pasture lands when the snow was gone and wild grasses swayed in the wind. She could almost smell the scent of sagebrush that she identified as Cade's smell.

“Does the thought of riding one of my horses terrify you into silence?” he teased. “I assure you they are all very well behaved.”

“I'm sure.” Abby inhaled the crisp air as she savored the view. “Now that the days are starting to get longer, I need to get out more.” She glanced his way. “It's so lovely here. You must have missed it while you were away in Afghanistan.”

“Yeah,” he answered. She thought she saw his jaw clench and wondered if he, like Max, had bad dreams of that time, but Cade said nothing more.

At the house he helped everyone out of the sleigh, then returned it to the horse barn. Abby helped Ed remove his coat while Mrs. Swanson began setting the table.

“I started soup this morning,” she said, lifting the lid of a big pot. A savory aroma filled the kitchen. “Won't take but a minute to be ready.”

“You have a beautiful ranch, Ed.” Abby hung up his coat, stored his scarf and gloves and dried off his shoes. “It's so pretty with the creek running through it. I can imagine Cade skating on the creek with his friends.”

As she said it the door opened. She turned to smile at Cade but the grim look on his face made her smile drain away.

“D-didn't you?” she stammered.

“I didn't have many friends,” he said in a tight, quiet voice as he hung up his coat. “Most of them didn't want to come out here.”

Tension crept across the room like ice fog. Cade's gaze meshed with his father's, both intense, hostility hidden just beneath the surface. Inside Abby a wave of guilt rose. It hurt to think she'd caused either man pain. New resolve filled her. Somehow she had to find a way to help them reach out to each other. But for now all she could do was change the subject.

“Mrs. Swanson's soup is ready so I suppose we'd better eat.” She pretended a light tone but the obvious enmity between father and son left her with little appetite. She offered a short grace, then ate her soup.

“Will the meeting be long today?” Mrs. Swanson asked.

“We have a lot to go through.” Abby grimaced. “If we can't raise some funds, I really question whether we'll be able to open in the spring.”

“Is that the goal?” Cade looked surprised.

“If everything works out. But we need money because Wanda has used all her resources.” She paused when Ed tapped her on the arm. He held out his pad. “Hilda Vermeer,” she read. “Yes, Cade mentioned she had money, but he didn't think she'd be willing to help us.”

She felt rather than heard Cade stiffen and wished she had kept silent. Beside her, Ed was frantically scrawling across his pad. When he held it out, Abby blinked her surprise.

“He wants to visit with Ms. Vermeer this afternoon while we're at the meeting,” she told Cade. “Apparently it's coffee day at the seniors' center and she's a regular visitor there.”

“
You
want to go to the seniors' center?” Cade asked his father, enunciating each word as if he needed the clarification. Ed nodded, his eyes narrow as he waited for some objection, but Cade simply shrugged. “Fine by me. I'll drop you off before the meeting and pick you up after. Okay?”

Ed nodded firmly, then looked at Abby. That's when she understood.

“You're going to ask Ms. Vermeer for a contribution to the adoption center, aren't you?” she whispered in Ed's ear. He jerked his head once, his grin flashing out. “I'm so glad you're helping us.”

As Abby hugged him she met Cade's glance over his father's head and puzzled at the expression she saw. Wistfulness—no, longing filled his face. Her heart ached for the sadness he kept couched deep inside. As he drove them to the meeting, she brainstormed for a way to bring father and son together again. She so wanted Cade to make peace with his father.

The only thing
, she prayed silently,
is that I need to help them without getting too fond of Cade. Okay, Lord?

As Cade ushered her out of the truck and inside the building, Abby wondered if maybe she'd prayed that prayer too late, because in truth, she was already extremely fond of Cade Lebret.

* * *

“What's up?” Ivor asked, grabbing a juice box and two of the cupcakes left over from the coffee break of the adoption agency meeting at the seniors' hall.

“Talk,” Cade muttered. “A lot of it. All afternoon. How come you're so late from school?”

“Tryouts for the school play. Why are you sitting here? Nothing to do?” Ivor asked in that snarky way of his.

“Lots, but nothing that can be done here.” Cade resisted the urge to correct the boy's attitude. Instead he checked his watch for the tenth time, wondering if he should dare to phone Ms. Vermeer again. Last time she'd curtly informed him she'd let him know when Ed was ready to leave. But that had been ages ago.

“How was the visit with your relatives?” Cade asked, trying for the hundredth time to make a connection with the kid.

“Okay, I guess.” Ivor shrugged. “But they don't want me to live with them. I'm glad. I like the ranch.”

Cade blinked. Didn't Ivor know he couldn't stay on the ranch? Oh, boy.

“Abby looks tired.” The boy glared at him, clearly placing blame. “She's not supposed to sit for a long time.”

“How do you know that?” Cade asked, irritated but curious.

“I read about it online. It makes her blood pressure go up and that's not good for the babies.” Ivor's superior tone said Cade should know that.

There'd been nothing about that in the pregnancy books Cade had borrowed from the library, but it made sense. He made a mental note to see if there were other pregnancy books he should read. He was about to question Ivor more when the door to the center opened and Ed came bursting through in his wheelchair with Hilda Vermeer mere steps behind him.

“Are you people still nattering?” she asked in her usual cranky tone.

Though everyone stared, no one said a word. Why was Cade not surprised when Abby rose and walked toward her?

“Hello. You must be Ms. Vermeer. I'm Abby—”

“I know who you are.” Hilda glared at Abby's rounded stomach. “And I know what you're trying to do. You want to create a place for girls who've gotten themselves in trouble because they didn't follow Biblical rules.” Hilda's voice echoed loud and harsh in the sudden silence.

“I wouldn't know about their pasts,” Abby returned in a quiet voice. “But I'm not sure it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” Hilda huffed. She looked ready to launch into a diatribe but Abby continued before she could begin.

“We hope Family Ties will be a helping hand extended to those who are in trouble and have nowhere to turn.” Cade marveled at the gentleness of Abby's voice. “We don't want to judge anyone. We want to be examples of Jesus's love. We want to make sure that children who are brought to Family Ties will be placed in homes where they'll be raised with love.”

“What kind of example will it be to our own youth to have pregnant teens coming and staying in our town, living as if they've done nothing wrong?” Hilda sneered.

“I don't know that it will be pregnant teens that come here. But if they do, maybe we can teach them that God is all about forgiveness and that one mistake doesn't have to ruin your life.” Abby's sweet voice didn't change though her green eyes darkened. “What good would it do to keep bashing them over the head with guilt? Don't we all have enough guilt already?”

Cade admired her restraint. In fact, he just plain admired Abby. He'd thought to protect her from Hilda but now he realized Abby didn't need protecting. She was like a tiger when it came to the babies and children she wanted to help.

“Well, I don't think it's right and I refuse to be a part of it,” Ms. Vermeer said loudly. “So don't send anyone around to try to get my money.” Having had the last word, she turned to stomp out the door.

But Abby didn't let her escape so easily.

“Please don't feel you have to rush off, Ms. Vermeer,” she said in a friendly tone. “Won't you at least look at our plans, see what everyone's been working on? You might enjoy seeing the quilt patterns we have.”

At the word
quilt
, Hilda stopped. She slowly turned to scan the room.

“I don't see any quilts,” she said.

“There are a couple I'm working on over here.” Abby walked to the left and drew her most recent quilt top from the big bag Cade had brought in earlier.