by Lois Richer
“Volunteering?” he said with his lopsided grin.
“Mac. I’m your friend but your efforts to matchmake for me are unwanted, unnecessary and utterly futile. If you persist, our friendship will suffer. Clear?” Flustered by his refusal to accede, she flopped onto a kitchen chair and sipped her now-cold coffee.
“A man could add a lot to your world.”
“You did not just say that to me,” she snapped. Mac had the grace to blush.
“What I meant was—”
“Back off.” She glared at him.
Mac’s voice was very quiet, very stern. “The twins need a father.”
“We’re gettin’ a new daddy?” Francie stood in the doorway, holding Aunt Tillie’s favorite mug. “Who?”
“When?” Franklyn asked from behind her.
“You did this,” Adele growled. “You fix it.” She rose, found Stella in the next room preparing for the aunts’ cheesecake tea. “Can you remove the cream puffs from the oven in ten minutes?”
When Stella nodded, Adele grabbed her coat, hat, and gloves, tugged on her boots and stomped outside with absolutely no idea where to go. Seeing Victoria’s trekking groups had worn a path over the snow down to the creek, she followed it, fuming at Mac.
December’s first balmy days had now been usurped by frigid arctic air that blasted her cheeks and drove her to seek the shelter of a piney grove set back from the edge of the frozen water. Adele sank onto a granite boulder and drew her knees to her chest, trying to rationalize Mac’s disloyalty.
“He’s always been my best friend, always understood my determination to avoid romance. How could he make me a laughingstock of the whole town?” Maybe she already was? Maybe these men wondered why she wasn’t involved? Mac’s suggestions would have only added to the speculation. “After so many years, how could he understand me so little?”
She didn’t know how much time had passed when the hesitant voice drew her from her introspection.
“Delly?”
“Go away, McDowell.”
“I can’t. I’m really sorry but we can’t talk about that now.”
“Why not?” She kept her back to him. “You know how I feel. You know what I’ve decided.”
“Yes, I know. I messed up and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” He sounded remiss, though something else underlay his words. “Delly, you have to come to the house. Now.”
Something in his voice, in his face, made her turn and study him. “Why?”
“There’s a social worker there and Francie is telling her all about how she’s getting a daddy for Christmas.” Mac had the grace to look ashamed. “I’m really sorry.”
“You should be.” With a sigh, Adele grasped his hand as they climbed up the hill. “When this woman leaves, you and I are going to have a discussion, Mac.”
“Okay.” He didn’t argue. He simply kept going until they’d reached the summit. “Why is she here now? Today? I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I, but nobody asked my opinion.” Adele walked toward the house with a sinking heart, wondering if the woman was here to take away the twins.
“The aunts would tell us to trust God.” Mac’s troubled voice held foreboding. “You don’t mind if I take off after I make sure everything’s okay, do you? I’m going home to pray.”
“You should have done that before you tried to set up my love life,” she grumbled. Her fingers curled around the doorknob as trepidation filled her. “Go now,” she urged. She pushed open the back door, then twisted her head toward him and whispered, “Pray hard, Mac. Please?”
“I promise.” He brushed his lips against hers and then hurried toward his truck. Adele stepped into the kitchen while her heart pleaded with God for help.
“An’ Delly wants to ’dopt us so Mac c’n be our daddy.”
Francie’s words sent a shaft of longing to Adele’s heart. She was going to have to examine that later, too.
“Hello, Enid. I wasn’t expecting you today.” Adele slid out of her outdoor clothes as she smiled at the woman who could make or break her plea to adopt the twins. “I see you have some coffee. Why don’t we go into the family room to chat?”
She’d been going to ask Stella to watch Francie and Franklyn, but Enid encouraged them to come along.
“Tell me about this new beau of yours,” she said when they were both seated in the aunts’ armchairs in front of the roaring fire. “Mac, isn’t it? He’s certainly handsome.”
“He’s an old friend, my first one when I came to The Haven. He was recently injured and is home to recuperate.” Adele winced at Francie’s bright eyes, recognizing the look she got when she was about to fantasize. She tried to interest the kids in playing the game that sat on Aunt Margaret’s desk, to no avail.
“Mac crashed his plane, that’s how he got hurted. His friend got hurted badder but Mac don’t like to talk ’bout it.” Francie flopped on the rug at their feet and frowned. “He’s gonna be the bestest daddy.”
“Oh, congratulations—”
“Francie. Mac isn’t going to be your daddy,” Adele said, heart sinking.
“But you didn’t like none of them other men.” Franklyn frowned, face puzzled.
“My word, it sounds as if you’ve been busy.” Enid’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t realize you’re so eager to get married, Adele. I thought you’d said you would be trying to adopt as a single woman.”
“I am. I will be.” Oh, Lord, please help me straighten out this mess.
“If that’s the case, it’s not wise to let the children think otherwise.” Disapproval leeched through every word.
“Enid, you and I need to talk privately. I’ll be back in a moment. Excuse me. Come, children.” Adele grabbed the hand of each child and drew them from the room, maintaining her hold when Francie tried to resist as they climbed the stairs. She tapped on Victoria’s bedroom door, explained and asked her to tell the children a story. A long one. “Francie and Franklyn, you are not to leave this room until I come to get you.”
Met with surly silence, Adele thanked her sister, then returned to Enid.
“I’m sorry. There’s been a mistake. Let me explain,” she began.
“You don’t have to. Francie is making up stories again, isn’t she?” Enid scribbled something in the file on her lap. “I’d thought—hoped—you were making progress with that.”
“I was. But they’ve come to love Mac and have obviously misunderstood our friendship. Mac isn’t interested in marriage any more than I am. We’re good friends, but only friends.”
Only friends? Was that really all she felt for Mac—friendship?
Could friendship explain the way her pulse had thudded when he’d kissed her less than half an hour ago? Was it friendship that made her heart gallop when she waited to catch sight of him every time she visited the ranch or when he came here?
Or had their friendship changed—on her part at least?
* * *
“How did it go?” Mac threw his gloves on a nearby bench after inviting Adele and the twins into his ranch house. “I was up most of last night, thinking and praying for you.”
“Thanks.” Adele waited at the kitchen table until the twins were busy playing with the puppies in front of the fire. “It didn’t go well. Enid, the social worker, doesn’t like that Francie’s still making up stories, especially stories about getting a father. Namely you.”
“Me?” Aghast, Mac froze. “I never said that!”
“No. But Francie extrapolates from what she hears. According to some psychiatrist Enid sent her to a while ago, Francie needs certainty in her life. When she feels uncomfortable she makes up stuff.” Delly looked at him with that familiar impervious amber stare. “I had a terrible time explaining to Enid about those men calling for a date. I’m sure she thinks I’m flighty.”
“I doubt i
t.” He scoffed at the very idea.
“Mac, I’m trying to adopt.” She frowned at him. “I need things on an even keel. No changes, nothing that could unsettle Francie or Franklyn.”
“Right.” He poured some peanuts into a dish and gave them to the twins after a warning against feeding the nuts to the puppies. Then he started the coffee maker. No change? No excitement? That was so not his world and he hated the thought that she would settle for it, but for Delly’s sake he would not cause problems.
“By the way, the other day when we were hanging lights...” Adele paused as if she were struggling to recall something. “You and Francie were talking about your accident. Yesterday she mentioned it again. I didn’t realize your friend had been injured at the same time as you. Was he your copilot?”
“Yes.” Mac was relieved his back was turned. It gave him a chance to school his features into a blasé mask before he faced her and held out a cup of coffee. “The twins are learning to ride very quickly. Won’t be long before the minis aren’t enough for them.”
“Mac.” Adele stopped him from opening a pack of store-bought cookies he’d put on the table by the simple expedient of placing her hand over his. “I’ll listen if you want to talk about it.”
“I don’t.” He pulled away his hand and dumped the cookies onto a plate. His skin burned under her touch. Mac quickly picked up his cup. “Ever.”
“Why is it such a secret?” Adele had never given up easily. Why would she now?
“It’s not a secret. I simply don’t want to rehash every morbid detail. It happened. Moving on.” He shrugged as if it was of no consequence, when the truth was he couldn’t erase the guilt of knowing he was at fault.
“Your copilot, what was his name?”
“Dave,” he told her through gritted teeth. Immediately an image flashed of the day he’d gone to see his buddy. He’d stood in the doorway of Dave’s hospital room and stared at the damaged shell of a weeping man who’d previously insisted nothing could happen to him that God didn’t allow.
God had allowed Mac to make Dave a paraplegic? Guilt and shame haunted him as he remembered how he’d left the hospital without even talking to the man who’d been his best friend ever since he joined up. How was that action worthy of a medal?
“Mac?” Adele’s soft voice pulled him back through the dark cloud of dishonor. “I’m only trying to understand.”
“What’s to understand?” he demanded bitterly. “I lost my arm and Dave—got hurt. Excuse me.” Mac had to leave before he told her everything. He took a few moments to settle his thoughts, then returned through the living room, smiling at the twins’ shrieks of delight as the puppies tumbled over the carpet. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” he said, squatting beside Franklyn.
“They sure getted big fast.” The little boy cuddled a ball of brown fur against his cheek. “This one is Fudgey.”
“This one is Kisses ’cause he’s always kissing me.” Francie giggled as a pink tongue darted out to touch her nose.
As the children shared the simple joy of puppies, something inside Mac ached. Losing his best buddy, losing his hand—those weren’t the only casualties of his reckless actions. Now he would never be a dad, never have a home filled with laughing kids, never have a son named Carter to honor his brother.
Mac craved the same joy the twins knew, an inner peace that would override his past and release him from the dark cloak of guilt. He’d prayed for that many times. But how could anyone forgive what he’d done, what he’d left uncorrected for all these months?
Mac stood and walked back to the table where Delly waited.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“For what?” He pretended nonchalance. Pretense had always been his go-to for managing life’s hard parts. “I know everyone’s curious about the accident, but I do not want to discuss it.”
“Okay.” But Adele’s pensive expression and darkening irises told him she was not okay with that.
“Gabe and I planned a kind of rodeo for the kids tomorrow. Want to hear?” When she nodded, Mac launched into a drawn-out explanation of their ideas.
True to form, Adele applauded their concepts and made valuable suggestions that would enhance the experience for the children. That was the thing Mac loved most about Adele, that ability to stand apart and visualize things through the innocent eyes of a child.
“How’s Francie doing with the actual adoption idea?” he asked curiously.
“She was gung ho when she thought she was getting a daddy.” Pursed lips told him Adele was still irritated by his actions. “After I explained that wasn’t going to happen, she went silent. She’s not saying yes, but she’s stopped saying no.” Delly sighed. “There’s something going on inside that head. I can’t quite puzzle it out.”
“Sooner or later she’ll tell you,” Mac promised.
“I hope it’s before the social worker visits again. I don’t want to juggle another bombshell with Enid watching.” Adele’s hands twisted and untwisted.
“Surely you’re not questioning your abilities?” He couldn’t believe it. “Delly, you’re going to be a fantastic mother to these two. You already are.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She lifted her head to glance at him. Her blond curls caught the light, enhancing their golden sheen. “There are so many things to get a handle on, things the books don’t tell you. Not only about the twins but about life, or my life as it would be with them.”
“How do you mean?” Mac leaned back, knowing she needed to say this and that he needed to listen, to offer support.
“What if something happened to them? How can I keep them safe? What if I fail them? What if I make huge mistakes that scar them forever?” She poured out a litany of fears. She paused, then whispered, “What if I can’t adopt them?”
“Adele.” Shocked that this confident, self-assured woman doubted herself so much, Mac cupped her chin in his hand and gently forced her to look at him. “No parent has all the answers. Ask Victoria. The main thing is you love the kids and do your best for them.” He chuckled as he let go of her, fingertips immediately missing the velvet touch of her skin. “My mom always said she made it up as she went along and trusted God to fill in for her shortcomings.”
“Yes, but she was your real mother, not an almost stranger.” Adele sniffed back her emotions.
“You’re not a stranger to Francie and Franklyn. You’re the one who makes their world make sense.” You do the same for me. “Delly, maybe it’s time for you to push for more than mere custody of the twins.” Mac wasn’t sure this was the right answer. He knew only that he couldn’t stand to watch his friend sink into a chasm of doubt and fear when adopting these kids was her heart’s desire.
“You mean, I should push forward my petition for adoption?” She frowned. “I thought it would be better to wait and let the court see I’m capable and serious.”
“What would show you’re serious more than making your intent so clear they can’t ignore it?” Mac loved the way her amber eyes began to glow as she considered it. This woman had such a big heart. “You’re not going to settle for simply being their foster mother. You want permanent custody. You want the right to make all the decisions in their lives.”
“You think I’m up to that?” she whispered. “Really, Mac? You don’t think I’m shortchanging them by not giving them a father?”
“You will never shortchange Francie and Franklyn, Adele.” Mac knew that as well as he knew his own name. “Anyway, if you change your mind, you can always add a husband later,” he teased.
She glared at him, but Mac didn’t respond. Suddenly he was too busy concealing his negative reactions to thoughts of some guy coming between him and Adele.
Of course, he wanted her to be happy. But when he’d told those guys to call her, Mac hadn’t really thought about how a man in Adele’s life would affect him. She�
�d naturally turn to the other man, he now realized. And he’d lose his best friend.
That thought made him want to yell “No!”
Chapter Nine
“You and Ben still aren’t speaking to each other?”
Adele couldn’t suppress the niggle of worry that had begun building last night after her foster sister had sat stony-faced through dinner, in obvious avoidance of her husband. Her stomach twisted at the very thought of this marriage faltering.
“No.” Victoria avoided her gaze and sipped her early-morning coffee while her daughter played with a toy.
Adele’s stomach sank. If Victoria and Ben could fall out of love— “Anything I can do?”
“No. I’m waiting for him to apologize.” Victoria’s lips pursed. “He challenged me on my decision to let a troublemaking kid go riding with the rest of the group this afternoon. He said I’m putting the other kids in danger. Which is utterly ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Adele saw irritation alter Vic’s face and quickly backtracked. “I’m not taking Ben’s side, Vic. I’m just wondering if maybe he noticed something you didn’t.”
“Nothing concrete, he says. A ‘feeling.’” Her expression showed exactly how she felt about Ben’s feeling. She glanced at Adele, then frowned. “Stop looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“As if you expect us to end up in divorce court over this. People disagree, Adele. It’s normal and even healthy.” She shrugged. “We’ll talk it out and be fine. I just need a bit of time.”
“Okay.” Adele busied herself assembling ingredients for breakfast waffles. Her sister left the kitchen with a refilled cup of coffee. Half an hour later she heard Ben, Victoria and their kids leaving via the front door. She peeked out the window and saw them hand in hand, strolling down the driveway for their usual early-morning walk, and heaved a sigh of relief that there was no obvious sign of strife.
