North Country Dad (Northern Lights #4)

by Lois Richer

  Grant’s watch alarm went off. “My cue to start peeling potatoes,” he said.

  “Mine, too.” Rick zipped his jacket while Grant pulled on his own. As they strode toward the hotel, Rick said, “If you ever want to talk again, I’m always available. Even if you only want to talk about Dahlia.”

  Grant stopped, paused then muttered, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean your feelings for her. Buddy, I recognize the signs,” Rick said when Grant would have argued. “You get the same goofy look I used to get when I met Cassie. You care about Dahlia, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Grant admitted. “But I’m not sure what that means.”

  “Can I offer some advice?” He waited for Grant’s nod. “Dahlia has convinced herself she must manage on her own. She believes her project will show her competence, so she won’t deviate from her goal no matter what it costs her.”

  “I know,” Grant agreed. “That’s why we’ve got to make her project succeed.”

  “My advice to you is, support her as best you can while helping her see that her competence doesn’t come from what she accomplishes. It comes from who she is, a woman who has God on her side.” Rick nodded. “That’s the most powerful help any of us have.”

  Though he’d never especially enjoyed peeling potatoes, Grant walked inside the hotel with excitement building inside. Because this was for Dahlia, potato peeling had gone from being a chore to being a pleasure.

  Was that what Rick had been talking about when he said those things about doing stuff for others? Because if it was, Grant would do a lot more than peel potatoes for the lovely Dahlia.

  Chapter Twelve

  On a Friday afternoon two weeks after Thanksgiving, Dahlia drove to Lives to ask Arlen for help. The trip was not a success.

  “I painted the tires, but I’m too busy to help with the garage,” he snapped.

  “It’s not hard work.” Dahlia frowned at the anger in Arlen’s voice. He’d put up barriers between them again. “The other boys have helped organize the shelves. I thought you might help me fill them. It won’t take long.”

  “I said no!” The sharp response had barely left his lips when Arlen flushed. “Sorry, but I can’t,” he said in a quieter voice. “I’m tied up.”

  The way he said it made Dahlia frown.

  “You don’t have to look so suspicious,” he said. “It’s nothing bad.”

  “I’m sure it isn’t. Thanks anyway.” Dahlia conceded defeat as he sauntered away.

  Two minutes later, the other boys rushed outside, eager to begin preparing the area Kyle would soon flood to make an outside hockey rink. Temperatures had dropped considerably in the past few days and now the frost took till late morning to dissipate. The signs were all there. Winter was coming.

  Plagued by a sense of urgency to get the go-karts on the track at least once before the land was obliterated by snow, Dahlia couldn’t rest. She pushed through her days at the store, desperate to steal every moment to work on another project detail.

  A new missive from her mother suggested her parents’ visit could happen any day. If they appeared, what would she have to show? A project half-finished?

  She was reaching into the hall closet when she heard Arlen speaking in the next room.

  “Hey, Rod. I just got a call,” Arlen said.

  “Oh. From who?”

  “My probation officer. My mom’s decided she won’t make me a ward of the court. She wants me back.”

  Dahlia shook herself out of her trance and walked quickly toward the kitchen, anxious that Arlen not think she was spying on him. She sat there for a long time, stunned, trying to absorb the news that would certainly put an end to her plan to adopt.

  “Hello. Come to join me for coffee?” Laurel poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Dahlia. “You look upset. Can I help?”

  “Uh, I was trying to persuade Arlen to help me, but he says he’s too busy.”

  “He’s been meeting with Grant. I understand there’s some homework involved.”

  “Oh, that explains it. I hope it helps him.” She sighed. “I have to get this project finished, especially now.”

  “Why especially now?” Laurel asked.

  “My parents are coming. I don’t have a firm date, but knowing them, they’ll arrive without notice.” She made a face. “I sound like a whiner. Ignore me. I’m just concerned. The Weather Channel is predicting snow by the weekend.”

  “Which isn’t unusual,” Laurel reminded. “Sweetie, you always knew there was a risk you wouldn’t finish before the snow arrived.”

  “But I’ve prayed so hard. We’re so close.” Dahlia forced a smile. “Why can’t I get this done?”

  “God’s still in control though He may not do things the way you want.” Laurel grinned. “Want proof? The karts will be on tomorrow’s train and we won’t have to pay a dime.”

  “Really?” A weight lifted off Dahlia’s shoulders. Thank You, Lord. “I can’t thank you enough for going to bat for us, Laurel.”

  “You’re doing this for my boys. Of course I’ll help.” Laurel studied her. “But I get the feeling there’s more on your mind.”

  “I feel like a failure,” Dahlia admitted.

  “Then, girl, you need to take a walk over that track again.”

  “I overheard Arlen talking to Rod,” Dahlia admitted. “Is it true his mom rescinded her decision to make him a ward of the court?”

  “It’s true.” Laurel’s forehead furrowed. “She wants him to come home when his sentence here is finished, to try to rebuild their relationship. Arlen’s all she has left now.”

  With those few words, Dahlia’s dream to shower Arlen with the love she’d stored inside melted into ashes.

  “I’m sorry, honey. But you’ll be a mom in God’s time.” Laurel hugged her.

  That tenderness was her undoing. Dahlia couldn’t stem her tears.

  “Why am I never enough, Laurel? What’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing!” Laurel exclaimed. “It’s just—I guess God has a different plan.”

  “So what is it? I’ve tried so hard to prove myself. And yet I keep failing.” The lump in her throat blocked the rest of Dahlia’s words.

  “That’s a lie.” Grant stood in the doorway. His face flushed a rich red when Dahlia turned to him. “I didn’t mean to listen in, but I have to say this.” His gray gaze searched hers. “You haven’t failed, Dahlia. You’ve achieved a lot. The go-karts are arriving. That’s an answer to prayer.”

  “And if we need extra money to fix them? I will not go back to this community. They’ve already given so much.”

  “You’re jumping the gun,” he said, his voice gentle.

  “I’m trying to be prepared,” she shot back.

  “Are you?” He sat down as Laurel quietly slipped from the room. “There’s a verse I found. It says, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ In other words, let tomorrow take care of itself. Jesus said the same thing when he was talking about the birds, remember?”

  “I’m responsible if this thing falls apart.”

  “Why just you?” Grant said, surprising her. “We’re all involved in this project, Dahlia. We’ve set up fundraising, coaxed donations and talked about it nonstop. If it fails, it will be our faults, too.” He arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who keeps saying this is a community project?”

  “Wow! You sound different.” She saw a new confidence in his eyes.

  “I’m learning who’s in control.” Grant stretched out his legs and leaned back, fingers meshed behind his head. “It isn’t me and it’s sure not you.”

  She kept her hands folded in her lap, wondering what had changed Grant.

  “I believe God places things on our hearts that lead us to our goals. But just because our goals are directed by God doesn’t mean we automatically get them. That’d be too easy.”

  “I wouldn’t mind having things go easy with this project.”

  “I doubt you’d feel the same sense of
accomplishment.”

  “So fighting through the problems is supposed to make me feel better?” She used her driest tone.

  “Maybe it’s supposed to make you question whether this is a worthy goal or simply an idea you aren’t willing to pursue if the going gets tough,” he suggested.

  Dahlia studied him. “Any personal examples?”

  “Not that I want to share right now.”

  Grant’s words suggested a change in his faith. She wanted to know more and it seemed she would when he asked, “Will you come for dinner this evening?”

  A faint smile shaped his lips. Dahlia remembered vividly what those lips had felt like on hers. Her heart began to race.

  “I’d love to,” she said without thinking, then realized it was true. “Can I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself. Around six-thirty?” he asked.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Okay. See you then.” Grant rose, zipped up his jacket and grinned. “The twins are at story time so I’ll use this hour to talk to the boys.”

  “What’s today’s discussion about?” she asked curiously.

  “How striving to reach a goal teaches patience and purpose and a whole lot of other things we need to get what we most want out of life. That ‘easy come’ usually also means ‘easy go.’” He arched an eyebrow. “See you later?”

  “For sure.” She watched him leave, noting a new assurance in the way he moved. Something had changed in Grant’s world, and she couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

  *

  Grant checked the oven for the tenth time. Everything looked good.

  “I’m hungry, Daddy.” Glory’s plaintive voice joined Grace’s just before the doorbell rang. “It’s Dally!” they yelled as they raced toward the door.

  “Hello, darlings.” Dahlia scooped the girls into her arms, then leaned back to study them. “You look so pretty.”

  “Daddy got us new dresses.” Grace twirled around so her flouncy skirt flared. Of course, Glory followed. “I like pink and Glory likes yellow.”

  “You both look beautiful.” Dahlia lifted her lovely hazel eyes and smiled so warmly Grant couldn’t look away. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My parents phoned as I was leaving.”

  She let him help her with her coat and his breath vanished. Dahlia looked like a queen in her black velvet pantsuit trimmed with satin piping. Her hair, ablaze in a cloud of auburn curls, tumbled from its updo to caress her pale neck.

  “You look lovely,” he said truthfully. “What did your parents say?”

  “Not much. They’ve decided to go on a cruise. They’ve set a tentative date for their visit. A month from last Monday.” Dahlia’s irrepressible smile blazed. “I’ve got until then to get the track finished.”

  “Prayer works.” Grant smiled and refused her offer of help in the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Till then, you can relax.”

  The twins took that as carte blanche to get Dahlia into one of their favorite word games, leaving Grant to admire the three auburn heads bent close together, giggling as they built words on the game board. He’d have to thank Rick for his advice to show Dahlia he was no longer the man she’d first met. Tonight, Grant intended her to see him in a different light: as a competent and confident father.

  Maybe then—he didn’t allow himself to finish that thought.

  Sufficient unto the day, he repeated mentally as he stirred the gravy. Tonight was also about building Dahlia’s confidence because he sensed she’d begun to give up on her dream.

  When dinner was ready, Grant could have called them to the table, but he let them play on, content to admire the tender way Dahlia coaxed the twins to do better. Did she recognize the gift she had for helping people be more than they thought they could be? For the hundredth time Grant thought what a wonderful mother she’d make.

  “Are we holding you up?” She tilted her head, catching him watching her.

  “I thought I’d let you finish your game. Nothing will spoil.”

  Grace pounced when Dahlia wasn’t looking. “S-i-g-n, sign,” she said with a big grin. “I win.”

  “That’s a very good word. You do win.” Dahlia pressed a kiss on her forehead then glanced at Grant. “Shall we come to the table now?”

  Grant held her chair, then helped the twins tie on polka-dot aprons. “Ready, girls?” he asked.

  They could hardly wait to show off. A burst of pride shot through him as they carried the rolls and salad to the table.

  “Good job,” he cheered. “Now the potatoes and the vegetables. Okay?”

  “We can do it, Daddy.” Their voices brimmed with confidence.

  “Yes, you can.” When they finished their tasks, he helped them climb onto their chairs then he carried in the meat and the gravy. “Okay, we’re all ready.”

  “It smells delicious.” Dahlia’s smile made his heart race.

  “Enjoy.” I made it especially for you. “Shall we say grace?”

  The twins clasped each other’s hands. When Dahlia slid her smooth palm into his, Grant’s breath caught in his throat again. The twins recited a poem of thanks. Her delicate perfume assailed him, sending him into a dream world where dinners with her happened every day. When he opened his eyes, he found them all staring at him.

  “Amen.” He tucked away the dream. “Enjoy.”

  It was the kind of family meal Grant had imagined having when he was a boy. He wanted it to last forever.

  “Can we have our special dessert now, Daddy?” Glory asked when they’d all finished the main course.

  “It’s special because we all made it together,” Grace told Dahlia with a proud smile.

  “Then I’ll love it.” Dahlia’s smile echoed in her hazel eyes. Grant felt trapped in her smile and loved it. The very last thing he wanted was to move.

  “I’ll clear the table.”

  He couldn’t allow that. “Stay put. You’re our guest.” He glanced at the girls and they began removing dishes from the table.

  Dahlia watched them walk away. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

  “Thanks. Coming here has been great for them.” And me.

  The sound of a dish hitting the floor broke the mood.

  “Excuse me.” Grant caught the flicker of worry in Dahlia’s eyes and knew she was remembering his unease the day they’d made cookies.

  But all she said was, “Of course.”

  Grant walked to the kitchen, steeling himself for the mess. The old rush of irritation building inside vanished when he saw Glory on the floor, holding her bleeding finger.

  “Let’s see.” He tenderly examined her hand. “It’s not too bad, sweetie. We’ll put on one of those funny bandages you like.”

  “But we made a mess, Daddy.” Grace’s face wrinkled as if she’d burst into tears.

  “You sure did. But sometimes messes happen. So we clean them up.” He smiled at her. “Right?”

  “Right,” she agreed, happy—and perhaps relieved?

  “Why don’t you go keep Dahlia company? After I fix Glory’s finger, I’ll clean this up.”

  Maybe he’d been wrong to give the two so much responsibility. But on the heels of that worry came the reminder that parenting was trial and error. He refused to allow the rush of guilt looming inside to overwhelm him.

  “Okay, Daddy.” Grace skipped to the doorway. “We made a mess, but Daddy’s going to fix it,” she announced.

  Daddy’s going to fix it. And that was the sum total of his job, Grant mused as he lifted Glory in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. As long as he kept fixing their world, he would do all right.

  It didn’t take long to bandage Glory’s finger. He sent her back to the table while he cleaned up the kitchen, only then remembering that the apple Betty was still in the oven.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, carrying the too-crisp confection with its blackened edges to the table. “I left it in too long.” He felt like a fool for trying to show off. He’d wanted Dahlia to see that he’d chang
ed, but that seemed like a dumb idea now.

  “It smells amazing. Do you have any ice cream?” she asked.

  Grant nodded. His heart bumped at her sweet smile, erasing the doubt he’d been feeling just moments earlier.

  “Everything tastes better with ice cream,” she said cheerfully. “May I serve while you get it?”

  “Sure.” Grant went to search the freezer. He returned with a half-full container. “All we have is maple walnut,” he said apologetically.

  “Walnuts and maple are perfect with apples.” She placed a scoop of ice cream on each serving of apples from which the blackened edge had been removed. “Doesn’t that make your mouth water, girls?”

  Grace and Glory nodded, eyes wide. They tasted, then grinned.

  “It’s really good, Daddy,” Glory told him.

  “It’s a com—com—” Grace frowned. “I can’t remember the word.”

  “What does the word mean, Grace?” Dahlia asked.

  “That we all did it together.”

  “Community?” Dahlia smiled.

  “That’s it.” Grace’s face lit up. “This is a community dessert.”

  “Yes, it is,” Grant agreed.

  Grant couldn’t stop staring at Dahlia, wondering whether there was a way in which they could be more than just friends. And for once, that wish had nothing to do with the twins.

  *

  “They’re so adorable.” Dahlia accepted the cup of tea Grant poured for her now that the twins were in bed. “I see a big change since I first met them on the train. They’re calmer.”

  “I’m not sure about that.” He sat down opposite her. “But I agree they seem more secure.”

  “That’s due to you,” she said quietly. Her eyes met his. “You’ve changed, too.”

  “I still have my moments,” he told her.

  “Everyone does.” She debated a moment before asking what was on her mind. “Do you still feel you’re failing Eva?”

  “Yes, but life goes on. I’m responsible for the twins. I do my best. If I mess up, I try to make it right.” He shook his head. “I know you’ve been telling me that for a while, but I had to figure it out for myself.”