North Country Dad (Northern Lights #4)

by Lois Richer

  “I haven’t really seen him with them much but no, I’ve never thought that,” Laurel said. Her forehead pleated in a frown. “Why? Do you think there’s something wrong?”

  “No, no.” Dahlia wished she’d never said a word. “I’ve just noticed he doesn’t show them much affection, though I suppose that could have something to do with his grieving process.”

  “Maybe he’s not the affectionate type,” her friend suggested. “It’s obvious the twins love him dearly, so I doubt there’s anything to worry about.”

  Dahlia didn’t want to belabor the point, though her reservations remained. “I have to get back to work, but thanks for sharing coffee with me. I don’t get out of the store in the afternoon very often.”

  “You should,” Laurel encouraged. “You push yourself too hard.”

  “If I don’t, who will?” Dahlia smiled, paid for their coffee, then hurried back to work. On the way she met Eddie Smart, one of the many miners who used Churchill as his home base.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Are you free to have dinner with me tonight?” When she hesitated he added, “I’m going back up north to the mine in a couple of days.”

  “Oh, Eddie, I’m sorry. I’m tied up.” Dahlia felt guilty for refusing again but she didn’t want to add to the romantic thoughts she knew he harbored toward her. “Can I take a rain check?”

  “Sure,” he said good-naturedly. “I’ll be back in time for the fall supper. How about we sit together at that?”

  “I’ll try,” she told him, unwilling to commit. Eddie was sweet. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but she was not attracted to him.

  As Dahlia walked toward her store, her thoughts returned as usual to her go-kart track. She decided to call Grant later to see if he could help her with it on Saturday. The weather was gorgeous but northern winters came hard and fast. She needed to get the project going.

  As it turned out, Laurel took the twins leaf hunting for a school project early Saturday afternoon so Grant was free to accompany Dahlia on a survey of the road she wanted to use for the track.

  “It looks in fair condition,” he said as they walked the winding, paved road. “I wonder why it was made in a circle.”

  “I did some research on this old base.” As they walked together in the warm sunshine, Dahlia basked in a sense of camaraderie. It was nice to have someone to help her with the go-kart project. Of course, Grant wasn’t just someone.

  “And you learned?” he prompted.

  “There was a lot of suspicion in the fifties. Everyone feared invasion by the Russians so the airstrip here was maintained. When the base closed, they dismantled the long, straight runway so no enemy plane could land. I guess they figured this circular bit wouldn’t be of use to anyone.”

  “It will make a good go-kart track,” he said, studying the weeds and grasses that threatened to take over. “It’s good that this area is fenced. No wandering polar bears. But it sure will need some cleanup.”

  “That’s where the boys come in,” she said with a grin. “They can put in some sweat equity. I’m hoping you’ll help them see my vision.” She winked at him then stopped, surprised by the freedom she felt with him.

  “I’ll try.” Grant blinked then glanced away. He resumed walking, obviously preoccupied.

  “Is something wrong, Grant?”

  “I was just thinking that I need a better way to get through to the boys about what their futures will be like if they make no changes. Mere words don’t seem to impress these guys.”

  Dahlia thought about it for a moment. “Have you seen Miss Piggy yet?” Dahlia told him.

  “What is a Miss Piggy?” Grant laughed, looking dubious.

  “Miss Piggy is a C-46 aircraft. She’s called Miss Piggy because she was able to hold so much freight. Years ago she actually did transport pigs on board.

  She was to fly from Churchill to Chesterfield Inlet but lost oil pressure in her left engine shortly after departing Churchill. She crash-landed, and Miss Piggy became a tourist attraction, sitting there gutted on the rocks.”

  “Interesting,” he agreed. “But how does this teach the boys?”

  “The load was probably too heavy. Later they speculated it wasn’t properly checked. That’s likely what caused the crash.” She raised an eyebrow. “How would you like to be the guy who loaded that plane? A mistake like that—” She let it trail away.

  “It could have cost lives,” he finished, nodding. “I see where you’re going,” Grant said. “Being responsible in everything so you don’t cost people their lives, doing your job in every detail, not sloughing off just to get a paycheck—it would be a good lesson for the boys.” He checked his watch. “I’m supposed to meet with them in twenty minutes. Want to come?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, thrilled to be included.

  “Not at all. Are you done here?”

  “I am. It’ll be nice to have an excuse to go to Lives and see Arlen.”

  Grant was silent as they walked back to her vehicle. When they arrived, he stopped and laid his hand on her arm. Her skin began to tingle at his touch.

  “I want to mention something, Dahlia. About Arlen.”

  The serious tone of his voice made Dahlia steel herself.

  “Arlen’s got a lot of pent-up emotions. He wants to lash out. You’re making yourself a perfect target for his anger by being so available to him.” Grant’s eyes held hers.

  “I just want to be his friend,” she said, blushing under his scrutiny.

  “Arlen may not be ready to be friends, with anybody.” His gaze softened, chasing away the chill of the afternoon. “Dahlia, this kid—he’s not in a place where he can appreciate that you’re trying to help him. He’s locked up in his own painful world. You might have to back off for a while.”

  “I care about him,” she said stubbornly. “How can I not feel that?”

  “I’m not saying don’t care.” Grant smiled. “Just protect yourself.”

  “How?” she demanded.

  “Don’t be so—” He searched for the right word. “Vulnerable,” he said at last. “He’s getting his kicks from seeing your disappointment when he slights you or ignores you. Don’t focus on him alone. Treat him as one of the group and if he doesn’t respond, ignore him.”

  Dahlia hated hearing those words and for a moment, she wanted to argue. But Grant was a counselor and part of her knew he was right. They got in her car and headed toward Lives.

  “I don’t want Arlen to hurt you,” Grant said breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “But he seems to want to. For some reason I think hurting you helps him, maybe takes the focus off of what’s really underneath all that pain.”

  “I’ll try to be more blasé with him,” she said at last. “But I’m not giving up. I still want to adopt him.”

  “I know, but—” Grant was obviously struggling with something. Finally, he said, “He has a mom, Dahlia.”

  Dahlia was surprised to hear this. She’d thought Arlen was all alone.

  “She made him a ward of the court,” Grant added.

  “So he doesn’t really have a family, and his mother obviously isn’t meeting his needs,” Dahlia argued. “So maybe I can be his refuge.”

  Grant frowned. He opened his mouth, but Dahlia cut him off.

  “I am going to have this boy in my life. Somehow. And you can’t talk me out of it.”

  Grant nodded, but his face grew very serious, as if he was deeply troubled by her words.

  Everything Grant had said depressed her. But Arlen was exactly like her brother. He needed her and she was going to be there for him. She would not fail again. Grant made her feel as if her dream of adopting Arlen would never come true. And it had to. Because that was part of God’s plan for her, that’s why He’d laid this particular boy on her heart. She knew it just as she knew making the go-kart track was the task He’d given her to help the boys and prove herself strong.

  When they pulled up to Lives, she stepped out of the truc
k and walked to the front door. She entered the building in front of Grant. All her apprehension melted at the sound of the boys’ laughter and the twins’ high-pitched squeals.

  It was easy for Grant to warn her off—he had two amazing little girls in his life.

  She had no one. But she would soon, somehow. She had to.

  *

  “How are you, Arlen?”

  Grant gritted his teeth at the sound of Dahlia’s ingratiating tone. Hadn’t the woman heard anything he’d said? He held his breath, waiting for the boy’s sour retort. Arlen didn’t respond.

  Grant stepped into the kitchen, wondering why. He caught his breath at the sight of Arlen seated at the table, with a twin on either side. He was folding paper into an airplane. A huge smile transformed his usually surly face. Grant caught his breath when Glory reached up to touch his cheek.

  Don’t hurt her, please don’t hurt her.

  But Arlen’s smile only grew as he smoothed the mess of curls off her face. “Didn’t you comb your hair this morning, Glory?” he said in a very tender voice.

  “Daddy tried, but he’s not very good at it.”

  Grant’s face burned at this condemnation.

  “She gets knots,” Grace explained. “Daddy doesn’t like hurting her so he bundles her hair up like that. But it never stays. Are you going to make me an airplane, too, Arlen?”

  “Of course.” The boy’s grin made him look like a different kid. In seconds he made Grace’s airplane and sent it zooming across the room. His grin disappeared when he saw Grant. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” he said.

  “No, you’re not.” Grant glanced around the room. “Where’s Laurel?”

  “Am I her keeper?” Arlen demanded.

  “Arlen, make it fly again!” Grace called as she retrieved her plane.

  “You got it.” Arlen’s surliness vanished. Then he looked at Grant. “Laurel’s in her office, on the phone with someone named Teddy,” he said in a more respectful voice.

  “Dahlia, want to come find Laurel with me?” Grant didn’t want her fawning over Arlen.

  Dahlia nodded and left the room with him. “Arlen seems to have bonded with the twins.”

  “I noticed.” Grant wasn’t sure whether to be glad or worried. But he was pleased to see that the boy had a much softer side under that grumpiness. “Who is this Teddy he was talking about?”

  “Teddy Stonechild. Kyle—have you met him? Lives’ activities director?” She waited for his nod. “Kyle and his father used to own a guiding outfit. Teddy came to Churchill to go on a trip with them a long time ago and kept coming back. Now he stays longer because his son is taking over his hotel business in Vancouver.”

  “And he and Laurel are…?” He deliberately left the question hanging in the air.

  “No one can quite figure out what’s between them,” Dahlia said with a smile. “They started out at each other’s throats, but lately Teddy’s always here when Laurel needs help, which seems to be quite a lot.”

  Laurel emerged from her office and stopped short. She glanced from Dahlia to Grant and arched a brow. “I hope you didn’t mind me asking Arlen to watch the girls. He’s got some kind of rapport with them. I thought it might be something we could build on.”

  “Good idea,” Grant said, though he wasn’t sure it was. Another thing about fatherhood that bugged him—there was no black and white. He stepped into the kitchen and stopped dead, astounded by what he saw in front of him.

  “Don’t we look nice, Daddy?” Grace said.

  She turned so he could admire her perfectly French-braided hair. Glory’s hair was the same but slightly off-side. Grant knew that was because she’d wiggled more than her sister.

  “You both look very nice,” he said, trying not to sound surprised. “Did Arlen do it for you?”

  “Yes.” Glory skipped toward him, took his hand on one side and Dahlia’s on the other and swung herself. “He knows lots of ways to comb hair ’cause he used to do his sisters’.”

  Grant stared at his daughter. She’d learned more about this boy in the few minutes they’d been together than he’d managed in two sessions.

  Arlen rose, looking everywhere but at them. “It was getting in the way when they were trying to color so I braided it.”

  “Thank you.” Grant glanced at Dahlia, who looked as amazed as he did.

  “Maybe you could show Daddy how to braid,” Grace said, her hand tucked inside Arlen’s.

  “No.” Arlen’s cheeks turned red. He shook his head and sat back down. “Are we having a session or not?” he asked in his usual cranky tone.

  “We are. I have something to talk to you about,” Grant said, clearing his throat. “Then I’d like us all to go on a field trip.”

  Laurel called the other boys to join them. Grant began by speaking about mistakes that changed lives. Once he mentioned the crashed plane, it didn’t take much persuading to get them excited to go see it. Soon Grant was driving toward Miss Piggy with Dahlia giving him directions. The twins sat belted in the backseat, and Laurel followed in the van with the boys.

  “They really do look cute with those braids,” Dahlia said in a soft voice. Grant wondered if she’d also noticed their shabby clothes.

  “I tried to get Grace and Glory some new clothes at the northern store,” he explained. “But they don’t have anything the twins’ size.”

  “They don’t generally carry many clothes. Most people stock up for their kids in Thompson. It’s cheaper. I might have an idea about that. Give me a couple of days, okay?”

  Grant felt a rush of gratitude but ignored the urge he had to reach out and take her hand. He was going to ask about her idea when she directed him to pull over. They’d arrived at the site of a half-demolished plane rammed into a hill. He’d never seen anything like it.

  “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” she asked.

  To say the least. Grant acceded to the girls’ demands to be freed of their seat belts. Worried about their safety as they gazed in awe at the metal body ripped open by the impact of the crash, he grabbed their hands, insisting they stay with him.

  “It’s easier if we go around this way.” Dahlia pointed.

  Grant followed her sure-footed steps over the slippery moss-covered rocks and remembered she’d said she taught gymnastics. As far as he could tell, Dahlia did everything well. A moment later she reached out a hand to Glory, and Grant couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of this lovely woman looking after his daughter. He followed with Grace until they stood beside her.

  “Go ahead and look around,” Dahlia urged the boys who’d just arrived. That blazing smile spread across her face as she turned to Grant. “I can see all of you are going to need some inspection time. I’ll watch the girls while you look.”

  Grant accepted the offer, realizing that he was perfectly comfortable leaving the twins in Dahlia’s capable hands. It was an unfamiliar feeling, being comfortable leaving them with someone else. Of course, Dahlia was…Dahlia. She was special.

  He shook off the thought and went to inspect the craft with the boys.

  When they’d finished, Grant sat on a rock at the top of the hill and waited until, one by one, the boys flopped down around him. The light breeze off the bay kept the afternoon comfortable. It was the perfect setting for teaching, making him think of similar settings in which Jesus had often taught.

  “The sign doesn’t say much about why the plane crashed,” Rod said with a frown. “I looked it up at the museum once. The cargo was too heavy and the grounds crew probably didn’t check the weight.”

  “Bad mistake, huh?” Grant said. “Nobody died, but they could have.”

  Arlen sneered. “What were they—dummies?”

  “I doubt it,” Grant said. “It’s more likely they had a busy day, they’d done it thousands of times and got careless. Could happen to anyone, right?”

  “Not hardly,” Arlen rushed in. “A job like that, you have to know what you’re doing. You don’t fake it.”

/>   Grant looked at Dahlia. She smiled, and he knew she was thinking that this was exactly the opportunity he’d wanted. He smiled back, trying to ignore the fact that something was happening between them, that he felt a connection to her that was undeniable. It concerned him.

  But he decided he’d deal with that later. For now, it just felt good to have her on his side.

  *

  Dahlia sat beside the twins, spellbound by Grant’s voice as he led the boys toward self-evaluation. He laughed and joked, teasing and gently encouraging until they considered their own situations and came up with changes they could make to improve their futures.

  She couldn’t believe the difference in Grant. This incredible coach seemed miles from the distant, self-effacing, almost helpless father she’d seen with the twins. He didn’t falter, didn’t question himself and didn’t hesitate. Even Grace and Glory seemed to understand that this was a precious moment of learning for the Lives boys. They sat quietly, peeling moss from the rocks and piling it in small mounds.

  “Everything, guys,” Grant paused to emphasize his point. “Every single thing you do has consequences. You may not see them right away. But there is a result and it won’t always be what you want or expect. That’s why you have to be so careful about your choices.”

  All of the boys seemed to ponder Grant’s words, except Arlen.

  “What do you know about our choices?” the boy sneered.

  “Everybody has to make them. It’s part of life.” Grant smiled at him. “So think carefully, because you are a result of the choices you make. Change your choices, change your life.” Seconds passed and no one spoke. Grant rose, and brushed off his pants.

  “If you’re ready, guys, I think we should head back to Lives,” Laurel said.

  As the boys climbed into the van, Dahlia pulled Laurel aside.

  “Can I present my go-kart idea after they’ve eaten?” she asked.

  “Sure. I’ll leave it to you to bring up the subject when you’re ready.”

  Dahlia was on tenterhooks during the drive back to Lives. This was going to be a lot of work and she could only hope the boys wouldn’t give up part way through the project. When they arrived, Grant gave her a sidelong look as the girls preceded him into Lives. He reached out and touched her arm.