by Lois Richer
“I don’t need taking care of. I can take care of myself,” he said gruffly.
“One thing I learned from Max is that sooner or later we all need someone to be there for us, even if it’s just to listen to us. Those people in town want to be your friends,” she told him, her voice very gentle. “They want you to be theirs. Don’t shut out everyone, Cade. Someday you might need them.”
He didn’t have the time or the fortitude to be involved. But Cade didn’t say that because Abby was moving as if she was going to rise. He held out a hand to help her up. Abby smiled her thanks as she stepped away from the table. Cade couldn’t tear his gaze from her when she lifted one hand to her stomach and brushed her fingers lightly across her abdomen.
“Twins acting up?” he asked, then wished he hadn’t. It was none of his business and far too personal. Apparently Abby didn’t think so. She grinned at him.
“Nightly calisthenics,” she complained, but her chuckle belied her complaint. “Good thing you have a substantial library on the ranch. At least I can read while they bounce.”
“Help yourself to anything in it,” he told her. “Do you need help to your room?”
“Not yet, thanks,” she said, her laughter echoing around the room. “But be careful what you offer, because that day may come and I can almost guarantee that I won’t be nearly as calm as Recitation when I go into labor.” Her face softened with her smile. “In fact, I’ll probably be a complete nuisance.”
“We’ll deal with it,” he said, not knowing what else to say, slightly concerned by her words yet oddly eager to be there for her if she needed him.
“I know you will.” She nodded, her face totally serious now. “You’ll deal with that as you do everything else. You’re good at dealing with things, Cade. That’s a trait God can always use in His kids. I often wished Max had that calm ability to work through an issue.” She said good-night, then turned and walked to her room.
What issue? Cade didn’t understand. Had things gone bad between them? If he’d been more involved with his buddy, maybe he could have helped. Yeah, right. He’d had that chance when he’d been asked to accept the special mission. He’d refused and because of that, Max had died. Abby was speaking through her grief, that’s all.
But she kept harping on God, as if God cared about Cade Lebret. He switched off the kitchen lights and walked to his study, which Abby called the library. He sat down behind his desk and pulled out his record book, noting the date and birth of Recitation’s foal. That brought to mind Abby’s reaction and the memory of holding her in his arms to comfort her.
Hard as he tried, Cade couldn’t suppress the wiggle of yearning that memory revived. He shoved it out of his mind to concentrate instead on what Max would have done to help Abby through the rest of her pregnancy, because knowing Abby, Cade was positive she was going to throw herself into Family Ties. Someone had to ride herd on her, make sure she didn’t overdo or take on too much. And, as she’d said herself, Cade was good at dealing with things.
Except that watching a mare give birth was an entirely different matter than human birth. He knew less than nothing about that. Cade turned on his computer, pulled up an online bookstore and began researching books on pregnancy and birth. He scribbled down the names of several.
Tomorrow he’d phone the library in Calgary and see if they had the books. He could pick them up on Monday when he took Abby to her doctor for a checkup. While she was busy with that, Cade intended to meet his buddy who thought he’d found the pawnshop where Abby had hocked her rings and her quilting machine and who knew what else.
Funny, but her comments about talking to God had him thinking. Maybe instead of skipping out on church, he’d sit beside her and listen. Maybe God would finally show him a way to help his dad.
Abby had been right about one thing—he did love this ranch. He’d just never realized how much the place meant to him, how many dreams and goals he’d built up until she reminded him. For a few moments today he’d even wondered if he should reconsider selling. Abby was the only one besides Max who’d ever understood the fulfillment he found here. Her encouragement had reignited his old daydream of carrying on the Double L with someone like her by his side.
But that was just a daydream.
There wasn’t anyone else like Abby, and even if there were, what would they want with Cade? He didn’t have the ability to love somebody like her, not the way she deserved. And how could she love him after loving Max? It was a silly dream and yet he couldn’t quite shake it.
Maybe tomorrow when everyone else was praying he’d ask God about that.
Cade reached out to put away his record book. His fingers brushed the forms he’d received from the government about Max’s death benefits. Just another area where he was unsuccessful, but he wouldn’t give up. Abby needed that money for her kids and Cade was determined to get the government to pay her.
For the first time, Cade criticized his buddy. Why hadn’t Max taken care of things?
Unable to find an answer, he switched off the lights and walked to his room. But sleep was elusive. As he lay wide awake, his thoughts returned to Abby. Had he done enough for her? Was he missing something?
By the time the grandfather clock in the living room chimed two, Cade decided he might as well help the town do a little fund-raising. That way he could keep a closer eye on Abby, make sure she didn’t overdo.
Though how in the world Cade would stop Abby once she made up her mind to do something was a puzzle that kept him awake far into the night.
Chapter Six
“Seems like this is your day to visit doctors.” Abby glanced at Cade, hoping her teasing comment would help relax the edges of strain on his face. “First Ed, now me. What did Ed’s doctor say?”
“That he needs more physiotherapy sessions.” Gloom darkened Cade’s expression. He seemed taken aback by the friendly hands waving hello. “I guess they’re waving at you,” he mumbled, staring straight ahead as they drove through the town.
Abby’s heart ached for his self-imposed exile. She yearned to help him and Ed but the gulf between them seemed so great, filled with unspoken things. So like Max. She hadn’t been able to help him, either.
“I’d gladly take Dad for them, but Buffalo Gap only has a part-time therapist. She’s heavily booked and doesn’t have any extra sessions available, even if Dad would agree.” Cade heaved a sigh of frustration. “Anyway, Dad’s not high on the list for extra time from her because he refuses to work hard. According to Doc Treple he isn’t progressing quickly enough.”
“I’m sorry.” Abby grimaced. Sorry was such a weak word. “I could try encouraging Ed some more.”
“I think that right now it might only alienate him. You’ve already gone above and beyond by persuading him to repeat the lists of speech patterns his therapist gave him.” Cade did glance at her then. “Thank you for trying to help him.”
Abby nodded. Since Cade didn’t say anything else, she, too, fell silent as the truck ate up the miles toward Calgary. After a moment her thoughts drifted to the constant problem that now nagged at her: how could she get enough quilts made from the mass of donated fabric Mayor Marsha was collecting to supply the orphanage? Her mind drew on her work with her mother, searching to remember the simplest patterns. Cade’s voice jerked her out of her daydream.
“I can tell from that blissful look on your face that you’re thinking about quilts,” he teased, amusement threading his tone. “I heard rumors you’re looking for people to cut out pieces for them.”
“A few women have offered to do some cutting at home,” she told him. “Mostly they’re former quilters, so they’ll do fine. Even so, we’ll need a lot of help. I think we’ll stick to simple patterns like the nine patch or flying geese variations.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cade said with a blank look.
“But I am wondering how and where you’ll put all the pieces together.”
“I haven’t worked that out yet,” Abby admitted. “I really wish I had my sewing machine.”
“Mrs. Swanson has one.”
“I know. She’s already hard at work piecing.” She frowned. “She’s a great help, but I have a lot of spare time right now and if I had a machine I could be working, too...” She let it trail away. After all, her lack of funds wasn’t Cade’s problem.
“I made a few fund-raising calls for your project,” he said, his voice sheepish. “But I didn’t do very well. Buffalo Gap is a small community, mostly made up of ranchers like me, struggling to keep going. Nobody’s wealthy in anything but cattle and pasture. In fact, the only person I can think of who’d have cash to spare is Hilda Vermeer. But I doubt she’d contribute.”
“Why not?” Abby could hardly control her curiosity. Small towns were so interesting once you unraveled their history.
“Hilda’s—uh.” He frowned, searching for the right word. “I guess you’d say she’s rigid in her beliefs. She’ll likely be against the adoption agency. Still, if you want a seamstress, she’s your lady. She used to design fancy clothes so she certainly has the equipment.” A little smile curved his lips upward, making him so attractive that Abby’s heart began to thud. “In fact, Mrs. Swanson used to envy Hilda her fancy sewing machines.”
“Really?” Abby forced her focus off Cade’s handsome face. That was getting to be more of a struggle each day she stayed on the ranch. “Tell me more about the lady.”
“Hilda’s father made his money in the oil fields. As his only child, she inherited everything. She’s very—uh, frugal, I guess you’d say,” he added, mouth pursed. “She’s also become quite reclusive. Not that she was ever very sociable.”
“Is that all you can think of to tell me about her?” Abby pressed when Cade stopped.
“Pretty much.” He glanced at her, scrunched up his face and finally said, “I was in her Sunday-school class when I was a kid. The thing that sticks with me is that she was heavy on rules.”
“It’s sad when people get so caught in obedience that they forget about God’s love,” Abby agreed. “But Cade, how could Ms. Vermeer possibly object to an adoption agency?”
“I think she just would. On principle or something.” His face wore a funny look. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why not?” Abby stared into the distance, her brain busy with possibilities.
“Because you’re going to talk to her, aren’t you?” He groaned and shook his head. “Don’t bother, Abby. She’ll only put you down. Her community spirit is even lower than mine.”
“Then I’ll have to work on both of you,” Abby told him with a smile. His answering grin lit a puddle of warmth inside her. “On a different subject, have you heard anything from the government?”
“Nothing. I think I might have to resort to talking to the media,” Cade said. “If word got out the government was abandoning the widow of one of their top soldiers, withholding what is rightfully hers and leaving her penniless, the politicians would trip over themselves trying to rectify the error. Maybe that’s the way to go.”
“You won’t ask me to do interviews or go on television, will you?” Cade looked so delighted with that idea that Abby had to burst his bubble. “Because I can’t.”
“Why not?” He looked irritated by her comment.
“I’m as big as a house, for one thing,” she mumbled, wondering suddenly what Cade thought of her ungainly body. “And getting bigger.”
“So? Adds more pathos to your claim. ‘Needy Mom of Twins Ignored by Military.’” Cade looked ashamed when she hissed her breath between her teeth. “Okay, maybe that’s not politically correct or very sensitive, but being pregnant does add immediacy to your need to get the claim settled. And besides,” he added after taking a swig from his coffee cup and returning it to the holder on the dash. “You’d look beautiful on television.”
“I wasn’t trying to squeeze a compliment out of you,” she blustered. “You don’t have to lie.”
“I’m not lying.” He glanced at her, brows uplifted. “If you don’t believe me, ask Dad when we get home. Or look in a mirror. You’re a beautiful person, Abby.”
“Thank you.” Somehow the words left her feeling deflated.
Being a beautiful person wasn’t quite the same as being called beautiful by a man like Cade, and for whatever inexplicable reason hiding inside her, Abby wanted him to see her as beautiful. Silly. Cade was just a friend and friendship was all she wanted, wasn’t it?
“I don’t want to put myself on show or have the world know I’m destitute. I just want what belongs to me so I can get on with building a home for myself and my kids.”
“Doing my best,” he said, his lips tightening.
“I know you are, Cade, and I appreciate it very much. Thank you.” Abby brushed his arm with her fingertips, trying to express her gratitude. But she worried that her comments had hurt him. Recently she’d begun to realize that under that bravado and assurance hid a very sensitive man. “What will you do while I see the doctor?” she asked curiously.
“You’re sure you don’t want me there?” he asked.
Abby had been shocked when he’d suggested it before they left the ranch, before she realized that was all part of the care and concern Cade lavished on everyone.
“I’m sure,” she said firmly. No way did she want him present when the doctor scolded her for gaining too much weight. “Anyway, I’ll have to wait for lab work and stuff. That would be boring for you.”
“Then I’ll probably call up an old buddy for coffee.” The way he said it so nonchalantly made something inside her prickle with warning. But when he turned his head and met her gaze Abby decided she was being overly sensitive.
“Good. You probably miss connecting with your buddies. Max didn’t—” She frowned.
“Max didn’t what?”
“He didn’t seem to want to get together much. He’d become very—introspective,” she said finally, wishing she’d kept quiet.
“He let the work get to him.” Cade nodded. “Something that’s really hard to learn but totally necessary is to let go of the mission when you come home. Max struggled with that, relived his decisions. It’s hard not to do, but it drives you nuts.”
“Yes,” she whispered, relieved that he understood. “I think he had PTSD,” she murmured.
“Max?” Cade shook his head then frowned. “Why?”
Abby told him about the night sweats, the screams of terror-filled nightmares, the startling when a car backfired.
“It preyed on his mind constantly. I think that’s why he forgot to do some of the things he should have,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Cade shook his head. “I should have checked on him more before he went back.”
“He wouldn’t have talked to you, Cade,” Abby told him quietly. “He wouldn’t even talk to me. Mostly I guessed what was wrong.”
“Still.” He was silent for so long Abby felt compelled to change the subject.
“I’m stuck on where we’re going to put together all that donated fabric,” she said when some time had passed.
“Marsha mentioned the seniors’ center as a project place, but she said they use the big tables there almost every day, which means you’d have to put your stuff away after every session, right?” Cade asked.
Abby nodded. “It’s not even close to ideal but if that’s all we have...”
“I might have an idea. Let me think about it for a bit and I’ll get back to you,” Cade said, his brow furrowed in thought.
“I appreciate any help you can give,” she said and meant it. Trust Cade to want to help with that, too. The soft spot for him grew. “Creating quilts for the cente
r makes it concrete, like we’re taking the first step toward actually achieving the goal of the adoption agency.”
“Is the agency that important to you?” he asked with a sideways frown.
“Yes, because it could mean a job for me. A future. But it’s not only that.” A feeling of selfishness that she’d mentioned her own reasons first swept over her.
“What else?” he asked.
“An adoption agency could bring added business to the town. Adoptive parents will need somewhere to stay, so the motel will get increased business,” she elaborated. “They’ll need to eat, so the cafés will need to hire more employees. These types of offshoots from the agency could really give a boost to the local economy.”
“You’ve certainly given this a lot of thought.” Cade sounded surprised.
“It’s something my mom taught me,” she explained. “If you intend to do something, think through all the ramifications of it and then explore how you could make even more of an impact.”
“Good plan,” was all Cade said as he steered into the city toward her doctor’s office. Somehow he maneuvered his hulking truck into a tiny parking space. “Wait,” he ordered before he jumped out on his side and went around to assist her in alighting from the vehicle.
Abby gladly took his arm as they navigated the icy sidewalk to enter a tall stone building. She pointed to her doctor’s name on the plaque between the elevators.
“That’s where I’m going but I’m supposed to have an ultrasound before I see the doctor. That will take extra time. I’ll be at least a couple of hours,” she reminded him.
“Here.” Cade handed her a cell phone. “It’s an extra one I keep at the ranch. You can reach me by pressing this.” He showed her. “Call me and I’ll get here as fast as I can.”
