by Lois Richer
“He seems to reject almost everything I suggest.” He grimaced. “Except for the snowmobile, and look how that turned out.”
“He’ll come around. You’re doing fine, Cade.” She leaned back, cupping her coffee cup against her cheek as she studied him. “Kids are unpredictable, especially when they’ve suffered such a big loss. I heard Ivor weeping last night. He sounded like his heart was breaking.” She sighed. “I wanted to go to him and comfort him, but I didn’t because I believe he needs those moments to release the miasma of emotions he’s got whirling inside.”
Cade listened, trying to grasp what she wasn’t saying.
“Ivor would never weep in front of us,” Abby explained. “It would embarrass him. But in private he can express his feelings without feeling judged.”
“I wouldn’t judge him,” Cade objected.
“No, but he thinks you would.” Abby smiled. “You’re a big tough cowboy. You run a ranch with a lot of land and animals and you stand up to Ed. In Ivor’s eyes, you’re too tough to cry. He’s intimidated. Give him time to find a real bond with you. Don’t force it. He’ll share your horses when he’s ready.”
Abby made it sound so easy to relate to Ivor. Cade didn’t think it was going to be, but for now he’d take her opinion on the matter. After all, she was the kid expert.
“What do you think about Mayor Marsha’s plan for the adoption agency?” He watched her pretty face, trying to decipher the emotions that fluttered across it.
“I think it’s great,” she enthused, eyes bright. “I’d love to help create a sanctuary for women who are in a situation like mine. And to help find homes for kids like Ivor would be very fulfilling. I see lots of potential.”
“Is that because you’re getting bored with us?” he asked. Surprise flared in her eyes before she looked down.
“That would be rude of me after all you’ve done.”
“Hardly. Living out here is nothing like living in the city. I get that.” Cade grinned when she finally looked at him. “I’m used to the slow pace of life around here, but you’re not. If you can fill in the time till the babies come by getting involved in the adoption agency, then I think that would be good for you.”
“You talk as if I was living the high life in Calgary,” she said and made a face. “Hardly. I’ll be happy to help out however I can. But it’s hard to get an agency going.” Abby’s green eyes darkened to match her serious tone. “Most have years of reputation that clients can trust in. Of course, offering expectant mothers a place to stay until they give birth could be a major draw for this agency. I might suggest that. Also, I think Marsha’s friend could have even more impact if she specialized in placing ‘special’ kids.”
“You mean mentally handicapped children,” he said, mulling over her words.
“Or disabled children. Or older children. Many adopting parents aren’t prepared to take an older child until someone tells them how much difference they can make in that child’s life,” she explained.
“I guess,” he said, thinking of his own past and what a difference feeling loved would have made to him.
“In social services we always had a long list of kids like that waiting to be adopted. Like everyone, they desperately want to be loved.” A haunting note filled her voice. “If Marsha’s friend’s agency specialized in adoptions for children who are hard to place, she would quickly make a name for herself.”
“And the agency would get more business.” Cade nodded. “I see.”
“It would also be a big hit with the government,” Abby explained. “Most social workers simply don’t have the time or resources to search for families with the references and skills to take those kinds of children. Mayor Marsha’s friend would have business from day one.”
“Great idea!” Cade studied Abby with new respect. “You should think about going into business with this woman,” he said. “You have a lot of knowledge that she could use.”
“Actually I am considering it. If my money would come through I could use some of it to buy in.” Abby studied her hands. After a moment she lifted her head and looked at him, her smile self-mocking. “I can’t stay here forever.”
“Well, don’t rush into anything. Stay as long as you want,” Cade offered. He hesitated, then added in a low voice, “If you like, I could try mediating with the military for you. There’s no reason they should be stonewalling you about money you’re owed.”
“Thank you. I accept your offer,” she said promptly. “I have had zero success with them. They intimidate me, just like you intimidate Ivor. He hasn’t figured out yet that you’re a teddy bear inside.” She brushed his cheek with her fingertip, smiled at his grunt of disgust, then added, “It’s very nice of you to give me shelter, Cade. But my stay has to be temporary. I’ve got to get a job so I can make a home for my babies. If I can’t do that—”
Abby didn’t say the rest. She let her words drain away to silence, but it was clear to Cade that she was considering a number of options, including some last resorts to give her twins security.
“I’ll get in touch with the military tomorrow morning if you’ll give me the information. For now you’ll have to excuse me,” he said, rising. “I have an appointment with someone this afternoon. He should be arriving soon and I have a couple of things to do to prepare.”
“Sure. I’ll go dig out my records. Thanks for the trip to see Liberty,” Abby said.
Cade hurried back to the barn. Truthfully, he had an hour before the scheduled meeting and he’d already done as much as he could to get the ranch into the black and thereby prepare it for this prospective buyer who would see that it was profitable. But he wanted to be alone to think about what Abby had said and wonder why he’d wanted to protest when she’d talked about leaving. Why did her staying matter so much?
Cade knew why. Because with Abby here, the ranch felt like home. Because with her in the house, people laughed, enjoyed each other. Because there’d been no bickering with his dad since Abby’s arrival.
Because he liked her company and wanted her to stay.
Cade figured that was really stupid of him, given that even he wasn’t staying. Sooner or later the ranch would have to be sold. It was the only way he could think of to pay for his dad to get into one of those seniors’ places where Ed could make friends while getting special attention from staff physiotherapists who would get him back on his feet, walking.
Abby couldn’t stay here. Neither could Cade. They both needed to move on.
Chapter Four
Abby’s feet ached, her back hurt and her head whirled from too many introductions. The funeral for Ivor’s parents had been somber and quiet, but the luncheon following the interment was everything Ivor had said his parents would like. The community had gathered to support him and reaffirm their connections with each other. It was wonderful to be part of it all, but she desperately needed to rest.
“Sit down before you fall down,” a brusque voice ordered from behind her. Cade, who’d seemed a bit distant since they’d left the ranch, dragged a chair forward. “Rest a bit. Then we should leave.”
“Leave?” Abby frowned at him as she sat down. “Why?”
“Because Ivor’s as worn out as you. Look at him.” He inclined his head in the direction of the bereaved boy. “He needs to get out of here.”
Abby was about to protest. But then she observed the way Ivor forced a smile to his lips as one after another of his parents’ friends came to speak to him. When one woman threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him, Ivor’s eyes met Abby’s and she saw something she thought was desperation creep in. He endured the embrace for a second longer before he drew away, struggling to mask his emotions.
“Did he tell you he wants to leave?” she asked Cade.
“He didn’t have to. I can tell from his body language that he wants out o
f here. I’m going to have to do something to initiate that. Excuse me.” Cade strode purposefully across the room. He said something to the crowd surrounding Ivor, then drew him away.
Abby had felt Cade’s withdrawal the moment they’d left the ranch for town. It was much like Max’s withdrawal from her when his PTSD had overtaken his nights and she’d been unable to help him.
Cade’s withdrawal had increased through the afternoon and nothing she’d done had alleviated it, either. Abby had already gathered he was uncomfortable around the townsfolk and wondered at the reasons. Maybe that’s why it seemed all the more touching when Cade rescued Ivor with everyone watching.
As Cade now spoke to Ivor, a kindly look softened his expression. Whatever he said brought a wash of relief to the boy’s face. Ivor nodded and then strode to the food table where he picked up a steaming cup and two sandwiches wrapped in a napkin and carried them toward Abby.
“Cade said you need these.” He set the food on a chair beside her.
So he’d been thinking of her, too. How kind of him.
“Is that tea?” At his nod, Abby took the cup, sipped from it and sighed. “He was right.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“You’d better eat something, too. Cade said we’re leaving soon.” He inclined his head toward the sandwiches, then sat down on her other side.
“It’s been a long day for you.” She touched his shoulder, drawing his attention from the tall, lean rancher. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. It’s weird. I know they’re gone but I keep expecting to...” Ivor shook his head and gulped. “I’m fine,” he muttered.
“After my parents died,” she told him, dredging up the memory because it might help Ivor, “it took me forever to stop reaching for the phone to call them when something happened in my life.”
“And your husband, Max?”
“When Max died, I thought I’d died, too. Sometimes I still feel like that.” Abby forced a smile and ignored the familiar rush of guilt. “You’ll always miss your parents, but I promise that it will get easier after a while,” she said softly.
Ivor stared at her for a few minutes before he nodded, then turned away. He said nothing. Abby picked up a sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. Her gaze returned to Cade, who was now speaking with Mayor Marsha. Whatever he was saying, the mayor obviously agreed, for she clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded her head wholeheartedly.
She moved quickly around the room like a practiced politician, saying something here, chuckling at something there. Moments later Abby noticed that people began to drift out of the community hall. Abby knew Cade had asked Marsha to encourage that.
“Time for us to go.” He held out Abby’s coat, waiting for her to slide her arms into it.
It felt good to slip her coat on without struggling, to feel the comfort of Cade’s hands on her shoulders, settling the garment there before he drew away his fingers. It seemed like forever since she’d felt so protected.
Surprised by that thought, she walked between Ivor and Cade to the truck, lost in her thoughts. Had she not felt protected with Max?
At first, perhaps. But then their roles had reversed and she’d been the one to protect him, silly as that sounded. She’d protected him by nurturing him through his darkest moments, but not contacting the military to tell them Max needed help. Maybe if she had—
Once again Cade lifted her inside the truck. Though Abby was prepared, that didn’t stop her heart rate from accelerating or her breath from catching in her throat at the contact with him. But she did manage to control her expression as she settled herself in the seat, pretending calmness.
As Cade drew out of the parking lot and headed toward the ranch, Ivor leaned forward.
“I never said that I’m sorry about Max,” he said. “He sounds like a good man.”
“He was—” She turned to stare at him. “How do you know about Max?”
“From Ed,” Ivor explained. “He told me Max was the only one who understood what it was like for him to be stuck in his wheelchair after he had his first stroke.”
Abby happened to glance at Cade as Ivor said it and saw the way the corner of his mouth tightened. Not in disapproval, but...she couldn’t quite define it. She had the oddest feeling that Cade envied Ivor for the solid relationship he was building with Ed because he’d never been able to attain that. Maybe deep inside, Cade also felt a nub of hurt that his own father felt Max understood Ed better than Cade ever could. Why had they never been able to connect as father and son?
When they arrived at the house, Ivor went to find Ed, to tell him about the funeral, Abby guessed. Cade’s father had awoken with a cough and neither Mrs. Swanson nor Cade would even consider allowing him to brave the frigid air to attend the ceremony.
Abby sat at the kitchen table, grateful that Mrs. Swanson had a pot of tea ready because she hadn’t finished her earlier cup. She was doubly glad when Cade sat down across from her. The housekeeper went to make some phone calls, leaving them alone.
“Are you okay?” Cade asked, examining her with an appraising look.
“Just need to catch my breath.” Abby decided to risk being rebuffed. “You didn’t like being there today, did you?” she asked. His lips tightened and he looked everywhere but at her. “In town, I mean.”
“It wasn’t because of the funeral,” he said.
“Because being around the townspeople bothers you,” she guessed.
“I—don’t go to town much,” he said after a small hesitation. His long, dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones as he stared at the table. Then he lifted them and stared straight at her. “Most of them think of me as poor Cade.”
“Because?” He just kept looking at her, so Abby stretched out a hand and touched his arm. “Is it because of your dad?”
“He wasn’t—isn’t an easy man,” Cade murmured with hesitation.
“He was hard on you as a kid?”
“I’m sure you must have noticed by now.” He barked a laugh that held no mirth. “Ed is hard on everybody. At one time or another, I suspect the whole town has felt the lash of his anger and felt sorry for poor Cade.”
“The whole town?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sure his temper embarrasses you. But he is the way he is, Cade. It’s nothing to do with you and I doubt anyone in town holds his outbursts against you. But I think there’s more to your aloofness.”
Cade simply looked at her without saying anything.
“I know I’m new in town, but when I hear people talk about you, there is a tone of respect in their voices,” she said sincerely. “They know you served your country and they’re proud of you. I don’t think they think of you as ‘poor Cade’ at all. Even if they did, if you gave them a chance, once they know you better—”
“I can’t get involved in town affairs, Abby.” He pushed to his feet. “I haven’t got the time. I have too much to do around here.”
“I know.” She smiled and let go of the topic. For now. “Especially with two more of us here. Are you sure that if I got involved in the adoption center, taking me to town for meetings wouldn’t be too much? I mean, you’ve already agreed to pester the government for Max’s insurance and stuff.”
“I’ll manage.” He moved toward the porch, then stopped. “Did you get your papers together?”
“I left the folder on your desk,” she told him and added, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Cade said, then lifted an eyebrow. “I overheard Marsha telling someone there’s a meeting at the seniors’ hall about the adoption agency tomorrow afternoon. You never said anything about it. Why?”
“I thought maybe I wouldn’t go.” Abby nibbled her bottom lip. “It’s bound to be mostly organizational. I know you’re busy, and anyway they just want ideas from me. I can do that over the phone.”
> She ducked her head. Cade was already doing so much for her. She didn’t want to inconvenience him, especially now that she realized what long hours he put in around the ranch.
“Abby.” Cade waited for her to look at him. “I said it wouldn’t be a problem to take you and I meant it. I promise that if I can’t do it, I’ll let you know and we’ll figure out something else. Okay?”
She nodded, reassured by the quiet competence in his voice.
“Trust me,” he said.
Abby couldn’t tear her gaze from his. “I do,” she whispered.
Cade kept looking at her. Finally he broke the silence between them with a nod. “Good. I won’t let you down.”
“I know,” she said in total confidence.
Then he was gone.
* * *
“Dad, you’ve got to do the exercises.” Cade smothered his irritation and strove for calmness. “The medication can’t do it all. The doctor said you have to help your muscles recover by moving them.”
Fat lot you know, Ed scrawled across his pad with a guttural growl, then ignored Cade to concentrate on his game with Ivor.
Cade opened his mouth to protest, then gave up. If his father couldn’t motivate himself, he would hardly listen to his son. He never had before. It only reaffirmed Cade’s decision to sell the ranch to pay for a place with an emotionally uninvolved staff that could coerce and coax Ed back to health.
“Cade?” Ivor motioned him over, pointed to the pad where his father had written Foals? in big, scrawling letters.
“Not yet,” he told Ed. “The vet says Blue Girl isn’t ready yet, but he’s keeping a close eye on her. It won’t be long for Recitation, though.” He knew his father worried about his favorite mare. “I think after she foals we’d better make sure this is her last pregnancy. She’s getting too old.”
Ed frowned but for once he didn’t argue.
“I have to take Abby to town for her meeting. Will you two be okay?” Ed glared at him and Ivor rolled his eyes. Cade sighed. “I’ll rephrase. If you need anything, Mrs. Swanson is in her room. Call her.”