by Lois Richer
Grace smiled happily as if she’d never had an issue with food.
“They always have lots of leftovers,” Dahlia said. “For a five dollar donation you get a takeout container with enough food for another meal. You order them from Jeff, the guy with the green apron and the funny hat.”
When Jeff came near, Grant ordered several containers, minus the Brussels sprouts.
“Six?” Dahlia said, green eyes wide.
“Six meals I won’t have to cook. Besides,” he murmured with a sideways look. “I already know the twins like them.”
“And your choice of vegetable?” Dahlia teased.
“Brussels sprouts don’t refreeze well. Corn does.”
“Right. That’s the reason.” She giggled. Her smile grew when a young couple stopped by to chat.
Grant took the twins to the pie table, leaving Dahlia to chat with her friends. Grace insisted lemon was Dahlia’s favorite so he brought back a piece for her.
“Thank you,” she said, savoring her first taste. “But you shouldn’t have left. I would have introduced you to Elena and Higgins. They’re just back from their honeymoon.”
“Your work?” he asked, tongue in cheek.
“I might have introduced them,” she said, tongue in cheek. “They did the rest themselves.”
“Higgins is a miner, too?”
“There are a number of miners who live here but work up north. It’s convenient for them to fly in and out of Churchill.”
“I’m guessing Eddie isn’t the only one who’s asked you out.”
Blushing but not answering him, Dahlia turned to the twins and begged them for a taste of their pie. Her eyes twinkled when she noticed his uneaten slice.
“You don’t like pumpkin pie?” Dahlia reached out as if to take it and burst out laughing when he pulled it away. “Your daddy has a sweet tooth, I think,” she whispered to Grace.
“Can I see it, Daddy?” Grace wiggled closer to him, trying to look into his mouth.
Once again, Dahlia hooted with laughter. Grant had never known anyone who laughed so much. It was a lovely sound.
“There are kids’ games in that room over there,” she told him. “We could take our coffee along while Grace and Glory try the fishing pond.” Dahlia waited for his nod, then rose and led the way. At first, the girls held back, but once Dahlia showed them how the game worked, they were fully involved. “So cute,” she murmured.
So was she, Grant thought. Cute and generous and amazing with the twins.
“Dahlia, is this the man you were telling me about?” A diminutive, silver-haired woman nudged her way between Grant and Dahlia. She smiled and thrust out an arthritic hand. “Hello. I’m Lucy Clow. This is my husband, Hector. I understand you need someone to watch the twins after school. I’d love to help.”
For a moment, Grant couldn’t say a word. Dahlia had done this, probably heard him tell Laurel his worry about leaving the girls in so many after-school programs. How had she known he’d hoped to find exactly this type of woman to watch the girls?
No wonder the miners of Churchill were all interested in Dahlia.
She was, quite simply, amazing.
Grant thought back to all the times he’d thought that Dahlia would be a wonderful mother, and he began to wonder if perhaps the marriage-of-convenience idea he’d first considered on the train that day wasn’t so crazy after all.
*
Dahlia couldn’t figure out why Grant suddenly seemed tongue-tied. She shared town news with Hector and Lucy for a moment. Finally she nudged Grant’s arm and he seemed to snap back.
In a matter of minutes he and Lucy had arranged everything, he’d introduced her to the twins and they’d fawned all over the smiling grandmother. Beaming, Lucy fluttered a wave before she and Hector left.
“You don’t want to check out Lucy before hiring her?” Dahlia asked.
“You and Laurel both talk about her so glowingly. That’s good enough for me.” The twins asked if they could go back to the games, and Grant nodded. “She mentions God a lot. Is she religious?”
“Lucy’s faith is an intimate part of her life. In fact, she and Hector used to be missionaries to the Inuit. God is important to her.”
“Maybe she’s the answer to my prayer.” Grant blinked as if startled he’d admitted that.
“How’s that?”
“I need someone who’ll be able to teach the twins Eva’s faith,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “Lucy sounds like the perfect woman to do that.”
“I see,” she said, but it was clear she didn’t.
“You’re probably thinking that’s something I should do,” he guessed. “But I can’t. I don’t have that rock-solid faith in God that Eva had. I was trying to learn before she died…” Grant trailed off and was silent for a moment. “Anyway, it sounds as if Lucy’s faith is strong, like Eva’s was.”
“Lucy’s faith is strong,” assured Dahlia. “But faith is a learning curve for all of us.” She smiled, feeling the wryness of her statement. “I’m going through a faith test myself.”
The moment she said it, Dahlia wished she hadn’t. Grant knew too much about her already. He drew her confidence so that she blurted out things she shouldn’t, things she’d usually kept bottled up inside.
“Arlen?” Grant guessed. She nodded. “You’re trying to have faith that you’ll be able to adopt him?”
“I’m trying to trust that God will direct things,” she corrected quietly. “But I’m also trying to be mindful that His way isn’t always mine.”
His gaze rested on her, a troubled cloud in its depths.
“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, Dahlia. Arlen has a lot of anger buried inside, though I think most of it is directed at himself.”
Dahlia wanted to press Grant, but she could tell that he wouldn’t reveal details. It was clear he felt his responsibility to the boys very keenly. So she changed the subject.
“See that group of men over there?” When he nodded, she smiled. “They’re dads who bring their kids to my gymnastic class on Thursday evenings. It’s for parents and kids. You’re welcome to join us. I think the twins would love it, too.”
Grant glanced from the men to the girls and back to her.
“They’re nice guys,” she assured him. “Want me to introduce you?”
“Thanks, but I’ll need to think it over and see if I have time,” he said.
“Is that the real reason?” she asked softly.
“What do you mean?”
“Churchill is a small town, but most of us try not to judge. Every one of us has problems,” Dahlia told him. “If we can help our neighbor, we do. That’s what makes this such a wonderful community. Join us, Grant. A little fun among friends might be just what you and the girls need.”
*
By the end of the evening, Grant felt a lot more comfortable mixing with the community, and that was due to Dahlia. She laughed with everyone, drawing him into the conversation so he could join their discussions. When the twins ran up and threw their arms around her, Dahlia’s face glowed with pride and love and Grant knew she’d make a wonderful mother.
He was pretty sure she’d take the cake in the “wife” division, too, but he’d think about that some other time. Tonight he’d decided to ask her for her help, even though he was positive it wasn’t the kind of help she had in mind. When they were finally alone he touched her arm to get her attention.
“Dahlia, would you give me a hand getting the twins home and in bed? After that, I’d like to ask you something.” For a moment he thought she could see inside him, that she had a clear view of all his insecurities. Then the warmth of her smile washed over him.
“I’d love to and you can ask me whatever you want.” Her grin blazed; her laughter rang to the ceiling. Joy spilled from Dahlia Wheatley like an artesian well.
To have that in his life, in the twins’ lives, would be about the best answer to prayer God could give him.
Now all Grant had to do was figure
out the right way to ask Dahlia to marry him.
Chapter Six
“You’re so blessed.” Dahlia collapsed onto Grant’s sofa with a sigh. “Those girls of yours are a delight. I haven’t had so much fun in a long time.”
“Well, they absolutely adore you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Dahlia took a sip of her tea, noticing that Grant seemed preoccupied. When he sat down across from her, his face was very serious. A frisson of worry tickled up her spine. “Is anything wrong?”
“No. Not wrong.” He kept watching her. “It’s— Uh, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.” She shifted under the intense scrutiny of those gray eyes, especially when she realized he was nervous, too. “What is it?” she demanded when the silence stretched too long.
Grant inhaled then coughed. He set down his cup and took one of her hands. An eerie sense of déjà vu struck Dahlia, but she couldn’t imagine why. Until he spoke.
“Dahlia, do you think—that is, would you consider…marrying me?”
She pulled her hand away and reared back. “Are you joking?”
“Not at all,” Grant said, his voice too calm.
“But—why?” A thousand things rushed through her head, primarily that she’d jumped from the frying pan with Eddie into the fire with Grant. “I mean, I… We’re…not in love, so…” She let it trail away, waiting for him to explain.
“I’m not talking about a regular marriage,” he explained. “You’ve already told me, in no uncertain terms, that you’re not interested in that. I’m talking about a different kind of marriage.”
“Grant, it might be better—” The words snagged in her throat as his hands closed around hers.
“Please, give me a chance to explain. Please?” he asked. Sincerity blazed from his eyes and begged her to hear him out. “I haven’t told you much about my childhood. Let’s just say it wasn’t pleasant. My father cared only for himself. The only tenderness I ever knew came from my mother and she left when I was quite young.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears forming on her lashes at the thought of a young Grant suffering such a loss.
“It was ugly, but I survived. I made my own way, went to school, got a job and met someone. The relationship turned into disaster. She wanted me to love her and I couldn’t give what I couldn’t feel,” he said. “I didn’t know how to handle her emotional demands so it ended.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was,” he agreed, his lips pinched tight. “I moved, started over. When it happened the second time, I figured that if I got counseling, I could change things.” He gave her a self-mocking smile. “I finally grasped that because of my past, I’m not able to get past my—” He paused, searching for the right word. “I guess you’d say inhibitions. I decided to stay single. I never wanted to put a child through what I went through.”
Dahlia didn’t understand. “But you did get married.”
“To Eva.” His smile was genuine. “Yes.”
“So?”
“Eva persuaded me that I needed the right teacher to show me how to be a husband and a father. She insisted she was that teacher, that she could help me change.” Grant met her eyes. “And something did change. I had never believed that I could be a husband and a father, but with Eva, because I loved her, I started to believe that I could. But then she died and left the girls in my care, and I realized that I needed more than belief to be a good father. I needed knowledge and experience, neither of which I had.”
“But you’ve figured it out now,” Dahlia said.
“No, I haven’t. Every morning I wake up terrified I’m missing something that will ruin their lives. And every day I make some stupid mistake that makes them cry.” He looked up. “You’ve come to our rescue so many times. You always know exactly what to do. So I thought, you want someone to love, that’s why you’re trying so hard to reach Arlen. And here are two little girls who adore you, desperately needing a mom.”
“Grant—I can’t,” she sputtered, searching for a way to make him understand.
“I wouldn’t place any demands on you. It would be for the twins’ sake, so that they could grow up happy and safe, knowing they are secure.”
He made it sound so sensible, so easy. But Dahlia couldn’t be drawn in to his plan.
“You’re patient and tender and kind. You’d be an amazing mom, Dahlia.”
His sweet words revived that inner longing to shower her love on someone, to build that strong, nurturing bond with another human. And yet—
“I can’t marry you, Grant. You’re a great guy, and I think you’re an awesome dad no matter how many mistakes you make. You don’t need me or anyone else. You’re doing an amazing job.”
“Dahlia,” he said, peering into her eyes. “Nothing would have to change.”
“Grant, no.” She shook her head. “Listen. You think you need me, but you don’t. You’re learning every day, and the girls love you so much. You’ll find your way, I promise. Besides, marriage isn’t part of my plans.”
“You keep saying that. Why?” Grant leaned back, his gaze intent as he studied her.
He’d bared his soul to her. The least she could do was return the favor.
“I told you I was once engaged,” she began.
“Yes. To Charles, wasn’t it?”
“So you understand why I’m not looking to get involved again.” Dahlia lifted her gaze and saw Grant shaking his head.
“Not all men are like Charles,” he said in that calm manner of his.
“It wasn’t just Charles’s betrayal.” She exhaled. “Do you really need to hear this?”
“Yes. Please?” Grant sat there, quietly, patiently waiting for her to share.
Dahlia closed her eyes and the past filled her mind.
“I went on a mission trip to Haiti before my last semester at university. It helped me understand so many things. I’d been sheltered and protected for so long, I’d lost sight of who I was, of my purpose. But in Haiti I saw these very poor people, some of whom had lost everything, and they were happy, truly happy.”
“So you decided to change your life,” he finished for her.
Maybe he could understand after all.
“Yes. I came home full of possibilities. One by one, they were crushed. My parents, Charles, my work. When Granny Bev died, I finally saw that if I married Charles I’d never be free. I’d always be sickly Dahlia to them. I knew that if I didn’t leave, I’d begin to believe it about myself.”
“So you came here and started your store.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Now I feel I’m finally regaining my personal power. I’m proving to myself, and to my parents, if they care enough to find out, that I am strong, capable and competent. And I’m able to give back the way I want.”
“Marrying me would put you back in the box?” Grant tented his fingers as he waited for her response.
“Marriage, period. Because that’s part of what marriage, of what any partnership, is. No matter how equal you want things to be, there has to be one voice that’s stronger, one person who prevails. Right now, I have to be that person in my life.”
“That’s something a lot of people don’t figure out until it’s too late,” Grant agreed in a soft voice.
“So you understand.” Anxious to make sure there was no misunderstanding, Dahlia said, “If I thought God wanted me to marry, if I felt He’d chosen someone for me, I would rethink my position. But that’s not the case. You want a marriage of convenience.”
“I want a mother for the girls, someone who will cover all the gaffes I make so I don’t ruin their lives.”
Grant didn’t pretend romance. She liked his honesty.
“But there’s no guarantee a wife would do that,” Dahlia warned. “Besides, you’re in control of their happiness now. Your past is over. You’re the best parent they could have right now.”
“I wish I were as certain,” he said. Suddenly a speculative glow filled h
is gaze. “But maybe you can help me another way, Dahlia.”
“Such as?” she asked uncertainly.
“You put couples together. Eddie and Marni. Higgins and Elena.” As Grant’s gaze met hers, warning lights flashed deep inside Dahlia. “Maybe you can find me a wife.”
Dahlia sagged against the sofa back, seeking its support. How had she gotten herself into this?
“You know everyone in town and you know the twins. You must know who would be the most suitable candidate.”
Some sixth sense warned her to run, yet Grant’s shining gray eyes told her he was utterly sincere. She had to hear him out.
“Please, Dahlia, find me a wife.”
She stared at him in shock, surprised to feel a flicker of envy pinch her heart. But how could she possibly be jealous of someone he didn’t even know when she’d just refused his marriage proposal?
*
Grant couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hopeful. Enlisting Dahlia’s help was genius. If she agreed. He waited as a myriad of expressions chased across her face. Shock, of course, bewilderment, confusion, but then Dahlia seemed to consider his request.
“I won’t put any demands on them except concerning the twins,” he promised.
“But you want to avoid love?” Her scrutiny and especially the disbelief on her face irritated him. “The women around here are my friends, Grant. Most of them want love in their lives. They’re looking for the fairy tale of happily-ever-after.”
“Then don’t introduce me to them,” he said flatly. Dahlia seemed baffled.
“I guess.”
“Something else is holding you back. What is it?”
“If I do this and something goes wrong, you’ll blame me.” She lifted her troubled gaze to meet his. “I like you, Grant. I don’t want something to interfere with our friendship.”
“I promise it won’t.” He meant it. Dahlia had become a good friend. He couldn’t jeopardize that. “Just think about it. And, of course, if you don’t want to do it, we’ll still work together on the Lives project.”
“Thank you.” Relief filled her hazel eyes. Dahlia rose. “I must get home. I’ve got accounts to go over. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”