by Lois Richer
The way she exhaled told him she wasn’t buying his diversion.
“You’re not out here by yourself because of something my aunts said this morning?”
“How do you—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Someone in town saw us or your aunts told you or— It doesn’t matter.” Yet it did. Because he didn’t want her to think he was struggling, didn’t want to look weak. “I’d forgotten that living here is like living in a fishbowl.”
“Actually Victoria overheard you and the aunts talking about a meeting a while ago.” Adele released the horse’s halter and smiled as the animal nudged her before trotting away. “But she wasn’t gossiping. I saw the aunts leave and wondered where they were going so early. Did they help you?”
“Not a lot, but then perhaps I was expecting too much.” Mac led the way out of the corral. “Want some coffee?”
“Peppermint tea?” She grinned at his nod and walked beside him to the house. Once inside, after shedding her outdoor gear, she walked directly to the fireplace to admire the medal. “I heard all about this. The aunts said your parents were so proud when it arrived. What exactly does meritorious service mean, or can’t you talk about it?”
“No,” he said shortly.
“Oh. Okay.” Adele curled up in his dad’s armchair, watching as he flicked on the kettle. “You don’t have to explain about your meeting with the aunts, Mac. I don’t want to pry if it’s personal.”
“I don’t mind telling you.” Was that because Adele had her own questions about God? “I’d hoped your aunts could explain how I could figure out God’s will.”
“Oh.” She drew in her breath between her teeth. “That’s a hard one. They couldn’t help?”
“Basically they told me to keep on keeping on.” He handed her the steaming mug, a tea bag and a teaspoon. “Not really helpful when I’m trying to figure out my future.”
“But I thought—” She stopped, swallowed, frowned. “You’re running the ranch. You’re not staying?”
“Yes, until my parents return. But is remaining here my life’s plan?” Mac shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought, hoped, that once the parents had gone and I was running things, I’d feel, I don’t know—confident—about staying. I’m not.”
“What bothers you most?” Delly watched him, eyes huge as she sipped her tea. Obviously recognizing his struggle to explain, she urged, “Don’t prevaricate. Just say it.”
The one person who’d always understood when he’d shared his heart had been Adele. He dearly wanted to believe that was still true, that she’d hear him out without judging. But they’d led separate lives for so long. They’d both changed. And besides, she had her future mapped out so clearly. How could she understand?
“It’s a lot to think about,” he mumbled finally.
“Wimped out, huh?” Her clear-eyed gaze told him she knew he’d evaded the truth. “If you won’t tell me about your struggle, can I tell you about mine?”
“Sure.” Mac leaned back in his chair, waiting. He’d missed these sweet heart-to-hearts with Delly.
“Well, as you know,” she began, “I thought coming back to The Haven to run the kitchen and adopt the twins was God’s will for me. It was my goal.”
“Was?” Mac sat up straight, frowning. “It isn’t now?”
“I don’t know.” Tears welled and rolled down her smooth cheeks. “Everything’s so difficult.”
“Like what?” Mac wanted to sit on the arm of her chair, wrap his good arm around her and comfort her, but knowing Delly, this, whatever it was, needed to be said.
“I thought The Haven would be the perfect place for the twins to get over their grief, to make a new home, with me.” She sniffed and wiped a hand across her cheeks.
“It isn’t?” Something must have happened today. Mac mentally kicked himself for not going over for supper. Maybe he could have done something to help Delly.
“Francie and Franklyn lie, Mac. They lie all the time.” Adele frowned.
“Kids do. You’ll correct them and eventually they’ll get over it,” he said, hoping to ease her doubts.
“I don’t think so.” She looked straight at him. “Since coming to The Haven they’ve started lying about their family. Today at school Francie talked about her ride with you. Then apparently, she and Franklyn insisted that their parents would get them horses for Christmas, when they come to get them.” Her eyes grew shiny with tears. “They were adamant about their parents’ return, even later at home when I tried to talk to them.”
“Huh.” Mac scrambled to think of a good reason for such behavior. “Maybe they still think they’re alive?”
“No.” Adele’s golden curls blazed under the lamp as she shook her head. “In Edmonton they knew the truth. They even talked about how God was looking after Mommy and Daddy. They asked all kinds of questions about heaven and what their parents would do there.”
“I see.” He ran scenarios through his mind, discarding one after another until an idea struck. “Maybe it’s the preschool. Maybe they feel like they’re different and they want to be the same as the other kids.”
“I don’t think so, Mac. I think it’s me.” Adele’s voice had dropped to a whisper.
“You?” He brushed that off. “No way. You’re the best mother—”
“They don’t want me as their mom, Mac.” Her voice cracked as she sobbed out the words.
“What?” He did move then, hunching down in front of her, setting aside her mug and folding his fingers around hers. “What are you talking about, Delly?”
“At bedtime tonight, Francie hugged me. And then told me she and Franklyn didn’t think they could be adopted. She said her parents are coming to get them at Christmas because she prayed for that and I’d told her God always answers our prayers.” Adele’s face grew wet with tears. “She said they don’t want me to be their mom.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Mac pulled Adele up and into his embrace, pressing her damp face against his chest as he tried to comfort her.
“If adopting Francie and Franklyn isn’t God’s will for me, then what is?” she wept.
Mac had no answers. All he could offer was comfort to this kind, sweet woman whose heart had just been shattered because of love for the two orphans. But starting tomorrow he was going to spend a lot more time with the twins. Because nobody would be a better mom for them than sweet Adele.
Was that why God wanted him here?
Chapter Seven
“Mac McDowell is becoming a fixture around this place,” Victoria observed the following Friday, feeding Grace a bite of freshly baked shortbread.
“I think he’s lonely. With his parents gone there’s only Gabe for company on the ranch.” Adele set the fifth pan of cookies to cool on a rack, then slid a sheet of shish kebabs into the oven.
“He’s spending a lot of time with your twins, too,” her sister mused.
“They’re not my twins, Victoria. Not yet.” Maybe never. The thought made her heart drop. “Anyway, I’m glad he is. Francie seems to talk more freely with Mac than anyone else.”
“And Franklyn?” Victoria wiped her daughter’s messy fingers.
“Franklyn mostly does what his sister wants. She’s the driving force in that pair.” Adele sat down to rest for a moment and sipped her coffee. “He doesn’t talk about me adopting them anymore, but Francie brings it up all the time, negatively.”
“It’s just a phase, Adele. Eventually she’ll get over what’s eating her and be happy you want to adopt them. But if their social worker drops by, we’ll have to pray Francie doesn’t say she doesn’t want to be adopted then.” Victoria must have seen Adele’s shock because she quickly added, “Not that it seems like someone from Edmonton would just ‘drop in.’ We live in the boonies. I’m sure she’d want to make sure we’ll be here if she’s doing that long drive.”
“I
hope so.” That new worry hounded Adele after her sister left and for the rest of the afternoon. Since Stella was out with the flu, she’d chosen a simple menu for supper so she could concentrate on baking as much as possible in preparation for Christmas events to which the aunties kept adding.
Intense baking sessions like this were easier done with the twins at preschool. Mac’s offer to pick them up today was an added blessing. He was a blessing, taking over for her repeatedly since she’d bawled on his shoulder. He’d become a refuge for the twins to run to if they needed to talk. Which Francie didn’t seem to be doing.
The little girl’s daily insistence that she didn’t want to be adopted was growing more adamant. Adele was running out of ways to figure out what was wrong.
“Please help me, God. If I’m to be their mother, I need to get this sorted out. If I’m not, well—please help me.”
Stuffing away her frustration at God’s lack of response to this oft-repeated prayer, Adele began mixing ingredients for the first of nine cheesecakes for the Christmas tea her aunts would host. If Adele could get the cheesecakes baked and into the freezer she might have time to help with decorating The Haven tomorrow.
“We’re home.” Franklyn burst through the door, grinning, eyes shining.
Home. How sweet to hear him say those words. But how sad to see Francie’s crestfallen expression as she followed him, shuffling into the kitchen as if living at The Haven was a fate worse than death.
“Hi, guys. How was your day?” Adele slid a lemon cheesecake into the second oven, then smiled her thanks at Mac as he hung up the twins’ coats. “You look happy, Franklyn.”
“I winned the race.” The little boy pulled a crumpled red ribbon out of his pocket and smoothed it out on the table before he flopped onto a chair and explained how he’d gotten first in their snow races.
“Congratulations. I think winning first deserves a snowman cookie, Franklyn.” Adele set a plate with two white-frosted cookies and a glass of chocolate milk in front of him.
“Francie woulda won for best snow angel but she messed it up.” The little boy glanced at her, then muttered, “On purpose.”
“I hate angels.” Francie’s sour expression made Adele wince. She snatched a Christmas tree cookie from the plate Adele offered and, after a glance to make sure she was being watched, deliberately crushed it on the table.
Adele glanced at Mac, who shook his head. Finding no reaction from the adults, the little girl pressed her finger against the crumbs and ate them.
“I love angels.” Mac sat down at the table and said cheerily, “I especially love angel cookies. May I have this one with the blue dress and silver star in her hand?”
“Help yourself.” Adele offered him coffee, which he accepted with a nod before turning to Francie.
“In the Bible angels were God’s special messengers, Francie.” Mac’s calm tone helped Adele regain her equanimity. “They told people what God wanted them to know.”
“Like they tole the shepherds in the field with sheep about baby Jesus,” Franklyn said.
“Exactly. I think the angels that appeared to the shepherds must have been beautiful. Like Delly.” Mac studied Adele with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “Beautiful and kind and loving.”
“That’s why she’s gonna be our mom.” Franklyn looked perfectly happy until his sister glared at him.
“She’s not gonna ’dopt me.” Francie smacked her glass on the table hard.
“Oh?” Mac shrugged as if it was no consequence. “Just Franklyn will be living at The Haven then. Huh.” He pretended to be thinking something over. “I think I’d like to be adopted.”
“You already gots a mom and dad.” Francie’s tone oozed scorn.
“Yes, but if they couldn’t be my parents anymore, I’d want somebody else to care about me.” His tone even, thoughtful, Mac studied his coffee cup, but Adele knew his words were intentionally chosen for the little girl. “Family isn’t just about the people you were born to, Francie. Like Adele’s aunties. She wasn’t born to them. She has a mom and a dad.”
Francie frowned as if this was news. “How come she don’t live with them?”
“Because a long time ago her parents couldn’t take care of her.” Mac’s smile soothed that perennial ache to belong that had hounded Adele for years. “The aunties asked if she’d come to live here. Now she’s part of their family, too.”
“Too?” Franklyn frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“Adele still has her own mom and dad, but now she also has two aunts. Her family got even bigger when Adele met her foster sisters. Now Adele’s family is really big.” He munched on his cookie as if her life was utterly ordinary. “I don’t have a big family. I wish I did.”
“Why?” Francie’s gaze was riveted to his face, as if she needed to hear the answer.
“Because it’s more fun.” Mac snitched another cookie as he winked at Adele. “I’ve always wanted brothers and sisters.”
“How come?” This time it was Franklyn.
“I had a brother. His name was Carter.” Adele heard the sadness in his words. “Before he got sick we played together all the time. We were best friends. But then he died, and I got lonely. I still am sometimes. If I had some other kids in my family I’d have someone to talk to and share and have fun with.” Mac’s stare was on something far in the past but after a moment, when Francie tugged on his arm, he returned to the present with an apologetic smile. “Yes, Francie?”
“If you ’dopted a brother it wouldn’t for sure make you not sad,” she said wisely.
“It wouldn’t?” Mac pretended to think about that. “Maybe not. But if I had a brother we could talk about how I was sad, and we could share my minis and go riding together like I do with Delly. I think it would be fun, don’t you?”
Francie shook her head in a firm no.
“Why not?” Mac leaned back in his chair, looking lazy and unconcerned, though Adele knew he was as eager as she to hear the response.
She was so glad Mac was here. The past few days he’d spent a lot of time with the twins when she’d been so busy she hadn’t always had a chance to sit and listen. The only hitch was that whatever they discussed only seemed to make Francie more adamant that she did not want to be adopted.
“Gettin’ more fam’ly don’t make the hurt go ’way,” Francie said in a solemn, quiet tone that pained Adele to hear.
“Nope,” Mac agreed. “It doesn’t. I’ll always miss Carter. He had such a goofy laugh. He laughed all the time. But you know what?”
Riveted by his words, Francie and Franklyn both shook their heads.
“Carter wouldn’t want me to be sad that he’s not here.”
Francie frowned at him, then glanced sideways at Adele, who kept icing cookies. If the child was going to confess what was bothering her, some instinct warned that Francie would have to do it on her own timetable. Adele held her breath as the little girl opened her lips as if to ask a question, then exhaled when Francie smacked them closed and crossed her arms belligerently over her thin chest.
What had she been going to reveal? Adele sighed with frustration that Mac hadn’t noticed as he continued with his explanation.
“Carter’s with God now and he’s very happy. God has lots of things for him to do. I know Carter wouldn’t ever want to come back here and be sick again, and anyway, I don’t want him to.”
He had been paying attention. Adele wanted to applaud when Francie, her attention snagged by the comment, dropped her arms and now studied Mac as if he was from Mars.
“You don’t want to see your brother no more?” Franklyn frowned.
“Oh, I am going to see him again when I go to God, but that might not be for a while. But since I’m here now I know Carter would want me to be happy. And you know what?”
Franklyn, puzzled, shook his head.
; “I think he’d be happy for me if I got some more family.”
Mac had always talked about having a big family. Did that comment mean he was now thinking about marriage? Funny how that thought left a sour taste in Adele’s mouth as Mac pushed away his coffee cup.
“Hey, Delly, is it okay if we play that pop-up game for a while? I love that game.”
“Sure.” She dusted off her hands before pulling the game out of the sideboard drawer. Mac encouraged the twins to help clear off the used dishes and crumbs as Adele warned, “Be careful, though. Franklyn is very good.”
“I’m better,” Francie said in a truculent tone.
“Are you?” Mac’s challenge made Francie blink in surprise. “Well, if either you or Franklyn beat me, I’ll take you for a ride on the minis tonight. Okay?”
It was as if a switch had been thrown, Adele mused. Francie, always competitive, pursed her lips and squinted in fierce concentration as they went around and around the board. Mac led for a time, then one of the children took first place.
Adele so wanted Francie to win, wanted something to cheer up the little girl. But Francie’s moves were reckless and not well thought out. She came in third just as Aunt Tillie and Margaret burst through the back door.
“Mac, help, please.” Tillie was breathless, her face white. “One of the cabins is on fire.”
Mac grabbed his coat and went charging out the door. Adele pressed Victoria’s pager number and then Jake’s. Immediately the house phone rang. Adele grabbed it, half listening to Jake, the other half hearing her aunt speak.
“We’ve already called the fire department, but it will take a while for them to come from Chokecherry Hollow.” Margaret wrung her hands, her white face taut with worry. “There’s a group down there—”
“They’re fine, Auntie. Jake says Victoria took the kids and their counselors on a hike. There’s no one inside the building.” Adele ended her conversation with their hired man. “He has some extinguishers and Mac’s there now, helping him. Why don’t you go in the family room, Aunties? I’ll bring you some tea.”
