by Lois Richer
“Remember, I’m here to help,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” His touch and those gentle words silenced the fear inside her.
This was what she was supposed to do.
The boys were quieter during dinner, obviously mulling over Grant’s words. Arlen was the first to rise to leave the table.
“Can you wait a minute, please, Arlen? I want to talk to you all about something.”
“Not another lecture,” Arlen muttered.
“Not at all,” she said, smiling at him even though her heart ached when he rolled his eyes. “It’s an idea I have. I want to know if you’re interested.”
Slowly, she laid out her plan in clear terms, her heart filling with hope when the boys began to chat excitedly. Only Arlen looked unimpressed.
“Let me get this straight,” he said, glaring at her with dark eyes. “You want us to slave out there in the elements to make this thing for you—”
“Oh, no,” Dahlia interrupted with a firm shake of her head. “It’s not for me. It’s for you. All of you will be able to use the go-kart track when it’s finished.”
“How would we do this?” Rod asked, shooting Arlen a glance that Dahlia interpreted as “chill out.”
“Here’s my plan,” Dahlia began. “First we’d have to clear the road. There are a few places where we’ll need to do some minor repair on the asphalt.” A rush of excitement filled her when heads began nodding. “Then we’ll need to collect tires to put around the perimeter of the track.”
“I’ve seen go-kart tracks where they paint the tires. Maybe red and black?” Kris said. When Arlen glared at him, Kris quickly bowed his head.
“The colors will be up to you boys to choose together,” she told them, encouraged by the looks on their faces. “I’ve found some go-karts, but they need work. We’ll have to find someone in town who can help with the mechanical stuff.”
“My dad’s a mechanic. I grew up helping in his shop,” David said. “I helped rebuild motors lots of times.”
“That’s a valuable skill.” Grant’s gaze locked with Dahlia’s, and the smile on his face made her skin tingle. She focused on the six boys, delighted by their response. Thank you, Lord.
“Sounds like a lot of work,” Arlen said in an obnoxious tone.
“Yes, it does,” Laurel spoke up. “That’s why each of you needs to decide whether or not you want to be part of this. I don’t think it’s fair to ask Dahlia to organize everything and then have us quit when it gets hard. If we say ‘yes,’ we’re in it—together—until it’s finished.”
The boys stared at each other.
“Wouldn’t the kids at school be impressed?” Rod asked, a tiny grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.
When Dahlia looked at Grant, he winked. Inside, a tiny ember flamed to life. What an encourager he was.
“Maybe when it’s finished, you could invite some of the school kids out to see what you’ve created,” Grant suggested.
“Like they’d come,” Arlen said.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they’d come.” Grant grinned. “They wouldn’t be able to help themselves. After all, how many go-kart tracks are there in Churchill?”
“I’m in,” Marten said to Dahlia. The other boys followed his lead—all but Arlen, who stayed silent.
“I’m so glad you’re enthusiastic,” she said with a smile. “But I want you to think about this until Monday. Then we’ll take a vote. Okay?”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Laurel glanced around the table. “Any other thoughts?”
“Why don’t we take a look at the road now?” Grant suggested. “That way, we’ll all have a better idea of what will be involved in making this work.”
Dahlia followed them outside, thrilled by their excitement yet still troubled.
“You’ve really engaged them with this plan of yours,” Grant said, walking beside her as the twins surged ahead on either side of Arlen.
“All except Arlen,” she reminded him. She tried to hide her hurt.
“Dahlia.” Grant reached for her arm to stop her. “Give it time. Something in his past hurt him deeply. It won’t heal overnight.”
“I know.” Wistfully, she lifted her head to search him out and faltered to a stop. Without thinking, she grabbed Grant’s hand and squeezed it. “Look!” she whispered.
In front of them, the twins had each taken one of Arlen’s hands and were dragging him to see a bird sitting on a boulder. He burst out laughing at something they said, but then his laughter died away. He murmured something to the girls and the three of them crouched down to study the obviously injured animal.
Dahlia’s heart squeezed as the embittered boy gathered the tiny bird into his hands. Gently, tenderly he cradled it, showing the twins how to soothe it.
“I never knew he cared about birds,” she whispered. Only then did Dahlia realize Grant’s fingers had curled around hers, warming her hand.
And for the life of her, she could not make herself break contact.
Dahlia was supposed to be strong, in control. She had no desire to open her heart to another man after what had happened with Charles. But she couldn’t deny that it felt good to relax in Grant’s protective clasp, just for a moment.
He was becoming a great friend, but that’s all it was. And that’s all it could ever be. No matter how nice it felt to hold his hand.
Chapter Five
Grant stared as Dahlia lugged bags brimming with clothes inside his house. He’d been thinking about her all day and now here she was.
“What is all this?”
“Stuff for the girls.” Dahlia chuckled as the twins raced over and threw their arms around her legs. “Want to have a fashion show?” she asked them.
The twins were delighted even though Grant was fairly certain they had no idea what a fashion show was. After explaining the concept to them, Dahlia ordered him to sit on the sofa and wait as she ushered the twins into their rooms.
After a few minutes of giggles followed by Dahlia’s whispers to hush, Grant rose and poured himself a cup of coffee. He returned to his seat thinking about the unusual woman who kept appearing in his life. Not that he objected. Far from it.
In the three weeks since he’d arrived in Churchill, Dahlia had been his lifesaver many times. She’d introduced him to countless locals, brought over casseroles for dinner and helped him get a feel for the small town and for how things ran at Lives where he often ran into her.
“Ta da! Look, Daddy!” Glory pranced in front of him clad in a cute pair of blue jeans and a matching denim shirt. “Aren’t they pretty?”
“Yes, they are,” he agreed, surprised by how well the items fit. “You look lovely. And so do you,” he said to Grace, who strutted out in a red jumper dress with a white blouse. “Where did you get these?” he asked Dahlia, who stood watching from the bedroom door, her face glowing.
“I made them,” she said breezily, as if it were a simple thing.
“You made them?” Grant asked, incredulous.
Dahlia laughed at his surprise. “I love to sew, especially for kids. Come on, girls, time to change outfits.”
The twins squealed as they scurried back into their bedroom.
Dahlia lingered, her smile warming him inside. “Don’t move,” she said.
Again and again, the twins modeled their new clothing, including Sunday dresses, school clothes and rough-and-tumble play outfits. There were also two winter coats, one a dark emerald-green, the other a softer shade of a pretty jade tone.
“Surely you didn’t make the coats?” Grant said, watching the twins snuggle their faces into the fuzzy trim around the hoods. When Dahlia didn’t answer, he searched her face.
“No,” she finally admitted. “I ordered them online. They were on sale,” she said defensively.
He was embarrassed. He’d known he had to get the girls new coats, but he just hadn’t gotten around to ordering them. Not the kind of thing a proper father would do, he now realized. Clothing your k
ids was as basic as feeding them.
“I’ll reimburse you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I insist. For the fabric also,” he added. She must have spent a lot on the buttons and trim that created the individual touches the girls loved.
“Grant, please don’t,” Dahlia begged. Her eyes glistened as she watched Glory and Grace trade jackets. “Making these few things has brought me so much joy.”
He smiled when he saw a little heart-trimmed pocket on the backside of Glory’s jeans. “This is more, much more, than any friend would do.”
“I guess that depends on your friends.” Her incredible eyes held his for a long moment. “I had such fun. Please.”
Grant knew he couldn’t push it. He couldn’t stand to see those expressive eyes lose their glow.
When and how had Dahlia’s happiness come to matter so much?
“Okay, Dahlia. I insist on repaying you for the coats, but for the rest—thank you,” he said, hoping she realized how much her gift meant to him.
“Thank you.” Dahlia smiled, and for a moment, Grant felt the urge to do whatever it took to keep that smile on her beautiful face.
She turned back to the twins and hunkered down to their level. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”
“Sure,” Glory chirped. “You’re our friend. We help our friends.”
“Yes, we do.” Dahlia tossed Grant a sideways glance, her lips twitching with amusement. “If someone asks you about your new clothes, could you just say a friend gave them to you? Don’t say my name,” Dahlia clarified. “Just say a friend.”
“You don’t want anyone to know.” Grace frowned.
“How come?” Glory demanded.
“Because I don’t want anyone to feel bad that I didn’t make something special for them, too. I’m very busy right now. Your daddy and I are working on a project with the boys at Lives.”
“Is it for Arlen?” Glory’s serious blue eyes looked from Dahlia to Grant.
“Yes, for Arlen,” Dahlia admitted. “And the other boys, too.”
Grace’s face suddenly fell. “Arlen’s sad inside.”
“What do you mean, Grace?” Grant knelt next to Dahlia to get closer to his daughter. “Did he tell you that?”
Grace shook her red-gold head. “I can feel it. Here,” she said, laying a hand over her heart.
Grant looked at Dahlia, who was gazing at Grace in amazement.
“You have the kind of heart that sees pain inside a person, sweetie.” Dahlia caressed Grace’s cheek. “It’s wonderful that you want Arlen to be happy. I do, too.” She rose. “Now I need to ask your dad something in private. Maybe you can go hang up your new coats.”
But Glory had another question. “Did you sew anything for Daddy?” she asked. “Sometimes his shirts don’t have buttons.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Dahlia grinned at him, her eyes dancing. “Maybe I’ll have to show him how to sew.”
“I already know how to sew on a button, thanks.” Grant’s cheeks burned. “I’ll get around to it when I get time. Go hang up your coats now.”
Glory left, frowning. She and Grace were whispering as they went into their room. Grant heard laughter and turned. Dahlia’s shoulders were shaking.
“Go ahead, laugh,” he said. “It seems there’s no end to the humiliation those two are willing to subject me to.”
“I think it’s adorable that they want me to make sure you’re cared for. They’re very thoughtful girls. You should be proud,” Dahlia said.
“That was their mother’s doing. I’m just the standin—”
“I really wish you’d stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Putting yourself down. You’ve kept them fed, healthy and housed. Why do you always negate that?” Dahlia shook her head, her glorious curls dancing. “You give them love. They need that far more than new clothes or a new winter coat.”
“I do love them,” he said quietly. “But I’m not sure they know it. When I was a kid—well, hugs, affection—that wasn’t part of my life.”
“Grant.” Dahlia fingers closed over his. “Glory and Grace know you love them and it has nothing to do with whether or not you hug them. You heard what they said about Arlen. Those two can see into a person’s heart. They can see into yours.”
“I hope so,” he said dubiously. “Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No.” She got a strange look on her face. “I, uh, need your help.”
“My help?” He stared at her in confusion. “With what?”
She took a deep breath.
“Okay, this is embarrassing.” Dahlia inhaled, looked him straight in the eye and let the story out in a rush of words. “There’s this guy, a nice guy, called Eddie Smart. He works up north in the mines. Every time he’s about to leave town he asks me out and I always put him off and say, ‘Next time.’ Well, he wants next time to be tonight. He called to ask me to go with him to the fall supper. I didn’t want to go with him, but I couldn’t think of a good excuse so—well, I told him I was going with you and the twins.”
Grant was so surprised he didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen Dahlia so rattled.
“Eddie’s not a bad guy, he just wants there to be something between us. There isn’t, and there won’t be,” she said emphatically. “But I don’t want to hurt him or to keep his hopes up. So will you go?”
“To this fall supper?” Grant finished. “With you?”
“Yes. One of the local service groups holds it every year to raise funds,” she explained. “When a family has to take a child to Winnipeg for treatment, this group helps cover the cost of the parents’ flights and lodging so they can be with their child.”
“Nice.” Grant noticed her pink cheeks. He almost wanted to keep her in suspense just to see how pink they’d get so he didn’t accept her invitation. Yet.
“I’ll pay for your supper and the twins’,” she assured him, the emerald tones in her eyes blazing. “In fact I already bought the tickets. I like to support local events.”
“I see.” Grant nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “But what about this Eddie? Am I going to have to fend him off?”
Dahlia laughed, a sound that Grant was discovering he liked a lot.
“No, no. That won’t be an issue.” The gold flecks in her eyes danced when she gave him a secretive little smile. “I’ve arranged for someone else to sit with him. Marni Parker, who owns Polar Bear Pizza, thinks Eddie’s the best thing since sliced bread. But he doesn’t notice her because he’s got these silly daydreams about me.” She blushed again, a beautiful rose tone that washed over her entire face and neck. “I thought if he saw me with you and Marni was there to console him…”
She had a finger in every pot. Sweet, conniving Dahlia Wheatley. The woman amazed him.
“You’re asking me to share a meal I don’t have to cook? How could I say no?” Grant chuckled when Dahlia let out a sigh of relief. “But aren’t you worried that people will talk about us?” he teased.
Dahlia shook her head. “I think most people in town realize I’m not interested in getting married. I’m too independent.”
Grant felt a rush of disappointment, and told himself he was being silly for all sorts of reasons. He wasn’t interested in marriage either, not after everything that had happened. Plus, he barely knew Dahlia—why should her opinions about marriage have any effect on him?
*
The hall was decorated in a fall theme and filled with people, most of whom Grant didn’t know. But Dahlia smiled at everyone. She introduced him to so many people that Grant gave up trying to remember their names.
“It’s our turn to sit down,” Dahlia said just as the twins began to fidget, a sure sign they were hungry.
They had just taken their seats when a brown-haired man pushed his way through the crowd and stopped in front of Dahlia.
“Hi there,” he said, gazing at her with a sheepish look.
>
“Oh, hi, Eddie,” Dahlia said graciously. “How are you?”
They exchanged pleasantries; then she introduced him to Grant and the girls. Grant could understand Eddie’s injured look—it probably wasn’t easy to realize you’d lost a chance with a woman like Dahlia.
“I have the other tickets but the numbers aren’t together,” Dahlia explained. “But I thought you might enjoy eating with Marni. She’s just back from her trip to Banff. I know how you love that park, Eddie.”
Grant watched in awe as Dahlia beckoned Marni over and facilitated a conversation between the two. Soon, the couple left to claim seats on the far side of the room. Grant chuckled.
“Nicely done, Ms. Matchmaker,” he said.
“Oh, shush,” she said with a grin. “Pastor Rick will say grace for everyone and then we can go up and fill our plates.”
That was when Grant realized that he’d have to battle with the twins over their food selections in front of the entire town. Everyone would hear the twins’ protest about food that wasn’t like their mother’s, and he’d look like an idiot.
But after grace, Dahlia led the girls through the buffet line, adding a bit of this, a spoonful of that to their plates. She deftly handled their questions, assuring them that roast turkey was every bit as good as tofu.
Grant got so caught up in Dahlia’s handling of the situation that he paid little attention to his own plate until they returned to their table.
“You really like Brussels sprouts, huh?” Dahlia asked, gazing at his plate.
He looked down, dismayed by the huge serving on his plate. When he glanced up, Dahlia’s eyebrows rose. “I won’t tease you about Eddie if you don’t ask about my Brussels sprouts,” he told her.
“Deal!” She grinned, then tucked into her food. “Isn’t this great? I love fall suppers.”
“There’s more than one?” he asked.
“There are four. One is all fish. Deep-fried, battered, baked or smoked. You’ll love it.” She tweaked Grace’s nose. “So will you.”