by Lois Richer
Having extracted a promise to expedite matters, Cade hung up and hurried back inside, almost running into Abby and Ms. Vermeer.
“You’re welcome to stop by the ranch anytime and help us with the quilts,” Abby offered. “Cade has found us a building where we can spread our work out, so we’ll be setting up soon.” She stopped, caught her breath and slid a hand over her stomach. “Sorry,” she said a moment later. “False contraction.”
“You should go home and rest until you have your children,” Hilda scolded. “Let someone else worry about those quilts.”
“Oh, I can’t do that.” Abby smiled at her, green eyes glowing. “This is the job God gave me and I intend to see it’s finished.”
Hilda huffed again, gave her one last assessing look, then left, shaking her head as she went. Cade touched Abby’s shoulder.
“It’s getting late,” he said quietly. “You’ve had a long day. I think we should head home.”
“The meeting’s almost over,” she agreed. A frown creased her forehead. “I’ve got a list of things I need to do around town though.”
“Ivor and I could help. Just tell us what you need.” He understood her mental struggle to delegate responsibilities but she was worn out. “Come on, Abby. Let us help,” he urged, needing to shoulder some of her stress. And that wasn’t just because of the babies. It came to Cade that Abby’s burdens had become his. He who had always disliked responsibility.
“Thank you,” she finally relented.
With Abby’s list in hand, Cade dropped Ivor off downtown to hang the posters she’d made while he ran a couple of errands for her on the other side of town.
“I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes,” he promised.
Half an hour later they’d completed everything on Abby’s list and were driving back to the seniors’ center.
“She’s really determined to get this adoption place going, huh?” Ivor pretended nonchalance but his tone told Cade he’d been thinking about it for a while.
“She is determined, but I don’t think the funding is here,” Cade admitted, feeling like a traitor. “As long as that’s still outstanding she can’t get the adoption agency up and running.”
“But it has to open.”
Surprised by Ivor’s intensity, Cade parked but left the engine running.
“There is no guarantee here,” he began but Ivor slapped his hand against the dashboard. “Calm down,” Cade said sternly. The boy’s obvious distress moved him. “What’s wrong?”
Ivor’s narrowed stare brimmed with suspicion.
“If you won’t tell me why you’re so bothered, I can’t help you, Ivor,” Cade said quietly.
“If the adoption agency doesn’t open—” Ivor began speaking slowly. “Then Abby won’t have a job. And if she doesn’t have a job, she won’t be able to stay in Buffalo Gap. I don’t want to leave and I don’t want her to, either.”
Neither do I.
The knowledge hit Cade like a blow to the abdomen. The days before Abby’s arrival seemed faded blobs of time. Since she’d come to the Double L he’d repeatedly caught himself looking forward to what his day would bring. He hurried through his work, anxious to be around her, to talk to her, to listen to the sound of her voice. She made his world enjoyable.
If she left, if he never saw her again—
“You’re not saying anything.” Ivor glared at him, then said in a sneering tone, “But then I guess it doesn’t matter to you that Ed loves Abby. So do I.”
“It matters.” Cade scrambled for the words to explain his feelings, but as usual he struggled to find them. “I don’t want her to go, either,” he managed. “But if the agency doesn’t happen, I don’t see any way around it. She needs a job so she can raise her kids.”
“She needs us.” As soon as the words burst out of the boy he thrust open the door of the truck and jumped out, slamming the door behind him. He raced across the sidewalk and into the building.
Cade sat alone with his thoughts, wondering if he’d found a reason for Ivor’s hostility. Confused, he went inside to collect Abby and Ivor, Mrs. Swanson and his dad. Abby handed him his cell phone.
“Thanks for lending me that,” she said, then said thanks again when he held her coat so she could slip into it. “I managed to reach everyone who wasn’t at the meeting. Unless they hear otherwise, they’ll be at the ranch tomorrow morning at ten to help with the setup.”
She looked so tired.
“Come on, you’re getting in the truck first. It’s running and should be warm.” Cade held out his arm and she took it, too tired to argue her independence.
Once he had all his charges loaded, he drove to the ranch, very aware of the way Abby kept rubbing her stomach while Mrs. Swanson, Ivor and Ed chatted in the back.
“Is everything all right?” he asked finally, feeling guilty that he may have let her overdo. He was supposed to watch out for her; he’d promised Max. He’d better get on the ball lest something happened to Abby and her babies.
“They’re Braxton Hicks contractions. It’s this thing babies do, to practice for labor.” She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “They’re not real labor but they sure feel like it. They start with no warning.”
“You’re sure it’s not real?”
Abby shook her head but Cade surreptitiously watched her face anyway. He knew the exact moment she inhaled and how long she held her breath. When her eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated on what was happening, Cade’s heart went into overdrive. Worry mushroomed. He had to get her safely home. He pressed the gas pedal with more force than necessary and heard a hiss of protest from the passengers in the back.
“Sorry,” he muttered, sneaking steady glimpses at Abby. Finally, when he thought he’d go crazy with worry, she exhaled and opened her eyes.
“That was a long one,” she said with a smile when she found him watching her.
Too long for Cade’s comfort but he kept driving without a response. Finally they arrived. He placed a hand on her arm for her to wait as the others had entered the house. Then he voiced the words in his heart.
“Abby, I know you keep insisting God will take care of you, but I can’t help seeing how much you’re overdoing. I’m worried about you. You won’t tell me anything the doctor says. I feel like I’d be helpless if something happened—” He cut off the words, refusing to reveal his deep-seated fear that Abby could die in childbirth. As his mother had.
“Oh, Cade.” Abby’s startled green gaze met his and held. “These contractions are normal—they’re truly nothing. The doctor had no special advice or warnings. I told you he simply said I should get more exercise.”
“I know you’re confident about the births, Abby. You should be. And I don’t want to worry you. But things happen.” Cade hated that his words caused her face to lose that blazing smile. But he couldn’t go on with this nerve-racking worry, afraid that if he left, he might not be there if she needed him, might be too late to help. “I need to be prepared. Can’t you please let me accompany you to one of your doctor visits?”
She smiled then, a slow smile that traveled from her lips to her eyes, warming him with its intensity. “Don’t worry about me, Cade.”
“I can’t help it.” The words slipped out in spite of his intent not to say them. “I brought you here and I’m responsible for you. I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you or Max’s kids.” He cleared his throat and let the rest spill out. “I’m also worried about what will happen to you if the adoption center doesn’t go through, if you don’t get the job. How will you live? How will you raise the twins?”
There was a whole lot more Cade could have said, but just then the front door opened and Mrs. Swanson beckoned.
“We’d better go in,” Abby murmured.
“Yeah.” Cade sighed, then
got out to help her from the truck and walk with her toward the front door. As he did he felt a rush of gladness that he hadn’t said any more.
If he had, he might have revealed that he finally had a buyer interested in the ranch. He might have told her that the only reason he’d hesitated to take the offer was because he knew she had nowhere to go. Besides, if the ranch sold, the quilting group would lose their work space.
But mostly Cade was glad he hadn’t said anything because he might have revealed his own longing for Abby to stay in their lives, to keep enjoying her big, wide smile, her happy laugh and her solid faith in God, a faith he now craved for himself.
Chapter Nine
As a strategy, hiding out in her room when Cade was in the ranch house had left Abby frustrated. For two weeks she’d deliberately avoided spending time alone with him, certain that if he didn’t see her, he wouldn’t worry about her.
With the exception of meals, their trips into town to meetings about the adoption agency and the half hour he insisted on walking with her each morning, Abby made herself scarce around the tall, lean cowboy.
And the reason? Cade’s insistence on knowing more about her pregnancy disconcerted her. She fought her desire to share every detail with him because doing so would lend a sense of intimacy to their relationship and she didn’t want that. She already had these weird daydreams of sharing the twins’ special moments with him, of standing beside him as they watched the babies grow. She had to keep reminding herself that Cade was Max’s friend and that when she had the babies, he would no longer be in her life.
There were other reasons Abby avoided him. She tried to arrange times that would give Ed and Cade the opportunity to find a common bond. Mostly, though, she kept away because her time with this man she’d come to admire and depend on would soon be over. If the adoption agency job didn’t happen and Cade didn’t get the military to release her money, she’d be forced to leave Buffalo Gap and probably never see him again. Life here on the ranch was a balm to her soul. She yearned for more. But what was that more? Friendship? Sharing?
It had to be, because Abby was determined not to let herself fall in love again. She’d thought herself desperately in love with Max but that love hadn’t been enough to help him. She couldn’t let it happen again.
Abby knew all the reasons why she had to keep her distance from Cade. And yet—she felt something for Cade. Something that was growing into more than friendship. There were times she could read his thoughts, knew that his sideways glances at his father meant he was worried Ed would never regain his strength.
And the more she sat here in her room, the more the miasma of her feelings left her feeling uncertain.
“Put your money where your mouth is and have faith that God will work it out.” She rose and left her room to head for Cade’s study where shelves of books waited to be read. “Keep your mind busy.”
She peeked around the corner to be sure he wasn’t inside, then approached the shelves. There were all kinds of books she wanted to read, but one, a medieval tale, drew her. It was too high so she tugged Cade’s chair away from his desk. As she did, the arm bumped a brown envelope that fluttered to the floor. And there, underneath, lay two books on pregnancy.
Oh, Cade. Abby smiled as she trailed her finger over one cover, then flicked it open. Inside there were margin notes and question marks all over the pages.
Things happen. I need to be prepared.
A sense of wonder filled her as she leafed through the books. She’d misjudged Cade. It hadn’t been just a sense of duty or snooping that caused him to continually ask her questions about her health. He truly was worried about her. She noticed the red underlining of the chapter on preeclampsia. He’d scribbled, How would I know? on one side. And then in tiny letters—Mom?
Shame filled Abby. Cade wasn’t just curious about her condition. He was worried about her because his mother had died in childbirth. He was trying to make sure the same thing didn’t happen to her. And she’d shut him out, left him to deal with his misgivings because—why?
Because you can’t pretend forever. Because he’s getting too close and eventually he’ll see you’re not the confident Christian you pretend to be, that you failed Max when you didn’t stop him from leaving.
All of these reasons raced through her mind. But the one Abby couldn’t face was the one that asked if she let Cade get closer, could she control the burgeoning emotions inside that grew whenever she was with him?
She glanced down. Mom? The plaintive yearning in that single word decided her. She would ask Cade to come with her to her next prenatal visit. Let him pose his questions to the doctor.
He had a difficult enough job dealing with his father. She wouldn’t add to his burden by keeping him away from the one person who could settle his mind about her condition. Anyway it would be nice to have someone to talk to about the strange things she was going through in preparation for motherhood.
Abby replaced the pregnancy books the way she’d found them and laid the envelope over them. When everything seemed as it had been, she left the study, walked to the kitchen and pulled on her coat and gloves. Then slowly, carefully, with the glow of the big yard light to guide her, she made her way to the workshop, inhaling the pungent odor of pine, hearing a hopeful neigh from the horse barn, feeling the soft brush of a melting February breeze caress her cheeks. She paused at the door, just to inhale the freshness, then walked inside.
She’d never been in this particular building before but Ed had tried to tell her many stories about the place, frustrated by having to write everything. She knew Cade was working on something, for the lights burned until late into the night. Perhaps the sleigh?
“Hello?” She closed the door behind her and stood in the dimness, waiting. Maybe she shouldn’t have burst in. She heard a scuffle, then Cade appeared at the far end of the building.
“Abby?” He hurried toward her. “Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing. I just came to tell you that if you want to come to the doctor’s with me next week, you’re welcome.” The words spilled out of her. She glanced at him once, then dropped her gaze.
Cade was silent for several moments before he said, “Thank you,” in a very quiet voice.
Abby did look at him then, in spite of her thudding heart.
“I appreciate you allowing me this.” His blue eyes glinted in the shadowy light.
Abby fought off the mesmerizing effect of his gaze and glanced around.
“You spend ages in here. What are you doing?” She caught the way he glanced quickly over one shoulder as if he didn’t want her to see something. But when he waved her forward she thought she must be wrong.
“You’re not the only one with a project,” he told her as he led her back to what turned out to be a workroom complete with tools of all descriptions. “I’m making a table for the entry at Family Ties.”
“It’s beautiful.” Abby slid one hand over the patina of the smooth ash wood, inhaling the sweet smell of oil he’d rubbed on it. The curves and bends of the legs proved he was very skilled. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“I’ve always built stuff.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s just a part of who I am.”
“An amazing part.” Astonished by the beauty of the work, she glanced at the shelves and caught her breath. A host of animals sat there. She carefully took them down one at a time, felt the life molded into them, saw the painstaking detail of each whorl and turn. At the end of the shelf sat several sculpted heads, her own included. “What’s this?” She twisted to look at him.
“Just some whittling.” Cade freed a stool from a box of wood pieces, wiped off the surface and motioned to it. “Want to sit down?”
“I want to look at these some more.” Captivated by the sensitivity of the sculptures, she took her time, tracing her forefinger over the curves and indentat
ions, noting the exaggeration of severe lines on his father’s face, the wisp of hair he’d created to caress Mrs. Swanson’s neck and the straight, firm line of her own chin. “You’ve made me look stubborn,” she said with a chuckle.
“And your problem is?” He grinned but his face tightened when she pulled an old rag away from a piece almost hidden behind the others.
“What’s this?” she asked. But then Abby knew exactly what it was from the tiny catch of his breath and its likeness to him. “Your mom,” she breathed, staring at the face crafted with hints of his ancestry. She turned it round and round. “It’s amazing.” The piece was clearly a labor of love.
“I did it from an old photo so I don’t know how accurate it is.” He took the carving from her hand and set it back on the shelf, then covered it.
“Why do you keep such beauty covered?” she asked curiously. “It should be in the house where it can be appreciated.”
“No.” Cade motioned to the stool, waited until she was seated. “It would upset Dad. I don’t want to do that.”
“You’re very careful of his feelings,” she praised, admiring the way he fit in so comfortably wherever he was. “It’s kind of you, but surely enough time has passed.”
“I don’t know about that.” Cade began putting away his sander, his movements slow, organized. “He’s never told me anything about her.”
“Why don’t you ask him, Cade? Maybe he’s just waiting for you to show some interest,” Abby suggested.
“I did show interest once. I paid for it dearly.” The way he said the words left no doubt that he’d been punished.
“You’re father and son,” she exclaimed. “You must have done some things together.”
“Not often. We don’t like the same things.” The calm steadiness of Cade’s voice couldn’t hide the barrenness of that statement. “He always wanted to make the animals obey him.”