A Dad for Her Twins

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A Dad for Her Twins Page 11

by Lois Richer


  “He never had any trouble expressing his anger,” Cade scoffed.

  “But maybe that’s the shield he hides behind because he’s scared to reveal the fear he keeps tamped down inside.” After sipping the last of her peppermint tea, Abby dabbed at her lips, giving him a chance to consider what she’d said.

  “Why do you keep harping on what my father feels?” he asked.

  “Because you need to know so you and he can reach each other,” she said quietly. “You can’t help another person unless you can figure out what they feel. I should know.” She paused, then smiled at him. “Rebuilding the connection between you two is important.”

  “You can’t rebuild what was never there.” His voice was edged with what Abby diagnosed as pain.

  “If you can’t rebuild, then build a new connection.” She leaned forward, knowing he wouldn’t like hearing the next part but compelled to say it anyway. “You and Ed don’t have forever, Cade. Nobody but God knows how long you have together.”

  “You’re thinking of Max.”

  “Yes. There were a lot of things I should have said to him and didn’t. I’ll always regret that.” She sighed. “I know you have questions you want to ask Ed. Why not do that while you can instead of imagining something that may not be true? Twenty years down the road,” she added with a last, desperate effort, “it might be too late.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to hear his answers to my questions,” Cade said tightly.

  “Maybe the answers will surprise you,” she answered, praying silently for the troubled father and son.

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Do you want dessert?”

  “No, thank you.” Abby patted her bulging stomach. “And even if I did, I can’t have it. I’m under strict orders to keep my weight down. I’ve put on some pounds since I arrived at your ranch.”

  “Oh, so it’s our fault?” How she loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he teased her.

  “Of course it’s your fault,” she shot back with a pseudo glare. “And Mrs. Swanson’s with all that good cooking. You both spoil me.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, is that all the doctor said?” The intensity of Cade’s voice and the expression on his face told her of his concern. A rush of warmth suffused Abby’s insides. It was nice to have someone fuss over her.

  “He said I’m fine, the babies are fine. Everything’s fine. Except I’m too fat.” She made a face at him.

  “I doubt he said that. But I’m guessing he did say you need to get a little more exercise.” When she blinked at him in surprise, Cade shrugged. “Just a guess. Everyone needs more exercise these days.”

  “I am supposed to walk more,” Abby admitted. “Though how I’m to do it with so much ice around is a mystery.” She saw the interest in his eyes and blushed. “Everything seems to be progressing well. I want a natural delivery and he thinks that’s possible. I’m to see the local doctor next week.”

  “Doc Treple?” Cade gaped at her. “But—but—he’s not a specialist!” His tone dropped. “Abby, you need to be near someone who can make sure everything will be okay. You can’t take any risks.”

  “I’m not taking a risk. He’s a doctor, Cade,” she said. It sounded as if he was trying to get rid of her. A new thought dawned. “Are you worried about the babies being born?”

  “Yes,” he admitted candidly. “Or rather I’m worried about something going wrong before they can be born. I’ve been reading and...” Cade let it trail away. Red spots appeared on his cheeks. He ducked his head and lowered his voice. “There are so many things that could happen.”

  “Yes, there are,” she agreed, touched that he was worried about her and relieved that he was willing to discuss it instead of stuffing his worry inside where it would fester and grow. “But I’m in God’s hands and He will take good care of me and of the twins.”

  Cade opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it. Abby decided he must be champing at the bit to get back to the ranch.

  “Shall we go?” Abby stifled her laughter at how quickly he rose, schooling her features as she waited for the wonderful familiarity of his strong fingers beneath her elbow. “That was a delicious lunch,” she said as he held her coat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, though I think we’re way past lunchtime.” Cade helped her to the truck. When they were belted in he asked, “Can you busy yourself at the mall for half an hour? There’s something I need to do there.”

  “Sure.” Actually Abby was delighted by the opportunity to pick up a few personal-care items. Curiosity nagged at her about Cade’s mission, but Abby chided herself for it. He’s got his own life, she reminded herself.

  By the time the half hour was up, she was waiting for him on a bench, too tired to visit any more stores. He came sauntering toward her, blue eyes lighting up when he saw her. He held a bag with the label of a chocolate store and another with the name of a bookstore.

  “Mrs. Swanson’s sweet tooth and some reading for Dad,” he explained. “And you?” One eyebrow lifted when he spotted the bag at her feet.

  “Shampoo, lotion and some new pants,” she told him, flushing as she looked at him. “My old ones are too tight.”

  “I see.” His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned and held out a hand to help her up. When they were in the truck, their packages stored on the backseat, he turned to her, his face serious. “Do you mind if we stop by to see Max?”

  “That would be great.” She didn’t want to visit her husband’s grave because she felt irrationally guilty over her move from the past, from him and the unhappiness she was beginning to shed. But this was another example of Cade’s thoughtfulness so she busied herself counting the many ways Cade had made her transition to the ranch easy.

  The Double L had begun to feel like home. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t suppress a flutter of guilt when they arrived beside Max’s headstone. It was getting harder to remember all the details about him that had seemed so terribly distinct a mere month ago. His voice, his laugh—it wasn’t that she’d forgotten any of that. It was just that sometime in the past few weeks she’d finally accepted that what they had was over. Max was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

  She could feel the change within herself. She’d begun to feel alive and vital and free of the burden of trying to escape a marriage she now knew she’d rushed into too hastily.

  “Abby?” Cade’s quiet voice broke into her reverie.

  “I’m okay.” Knowledge slid through her, filling every cell of her body. “It’s over,” she whispered to herself. “There’s nothing more I can do for him.”

  “Abby, I—” Cade stopped speaking when she turned her head to look at him.

  “I tried my best, you know. I did everything I could think of.” A tear slid out and tumbled over her cheek. “But he wouldn’t admit he was suffering. He couldn’t claw his way out of the remorse long enough to know something was wrong.” She exhaled.

  “What are you saying, Abby?” Cade’s voice emerged in that careful tone he used when he didn’t want to upset her.

  “Max’s PTSD was worse than I let on.” She looked at him. “It made him fearful. He couldn’t sleep or relax. The nightmares ate at his confidence. I know I should have stopped him from going on another mission, but he wouldn’t listen. I think he was almost glad to escape.”

  “But—the twins?” Cade stared at her, aghast.

  “He didn’t know. Neither did I. Not then.” She touched her abdomen, felt the response of two sharp kicks and smiled. “I tried my best to love Max, but I don’t think it was enough for him. I never quite became his other half. He wouldn’t allow it. He considered it weakness to depend on me.”

  Cade looked stunned by her words.

  “I realize now I should have ignored his request for privacy. I should have told someon
e, forced him to get help. And I didn’t. I’ll always have to live with that.” She didn’t even try to stop the tears now. “Something went wrong with our marriage, Cade. Something I couldn’t fix. I can’t mourn that anymore. I have to let go of the past and push ahead. For the twins’ sake.”

  “And so?” Poor Cade sounded utterly confused.

  Well, why wouldn’t he be? She’d been a little confused herself but now understanding dawned, clarifying that verse she’d puzzled over this morning.

  “That’s what it means in Philippians. Chapter 3,” she said to herself, amazed by the simplicity of it. “‘But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forward to those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Jesus Christ.’” Abby grinned at Cade. “It won’t be easy but chapter 4, verse 13 says, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’”

  “Abby, are you saying you didn’t love Max?” Cade asked.

  “I loved him the best I could,” she said, meeting his stare. “I don’t think it was enough, that I was enough. I failed him and I will always regret that. And I will not make the mistake of believing a fairy tale is real love again. I must get on with the challenges God has set before me.”

  “Which are?” He gazed at her, wide-eyed.

  “Preparing to be a mother, making a home for my children, getting a job and doing my part to get the adoption agency going. That’s my world now.” She looked out the window at the grave marker once more, then turned away. “Let’s go home, Cade.”

  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.”

 

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