Accidental Dad

by Lois Richer

  He was the guy who fixed things. At the moment, the weight of it all, the responsibility to his parents and the kids, felt like sacks of feed tied to his heels. He’d spent years longing to be free to travel anywhere for as long as he wanted.

  Only now he didn’t, even though he felt the weight of expectations. All Sam wanted now was for the twins to grow up happy and healthy. He wanted Jacob Samuel to know the kind of man his dad had been, to see what Jake had built with his hands. He wanted the twins to experience growing up on a ranch where you could run and jump and play without worry.

  He wanted Kelly to see him as more than a dumb rancher who’d never been outside Canada or around anything other than a bunch of cattle.

  Where did that come from?

  As Sam mused on the peculiar thought intruding into his brain, he realized that though he’d known Kelly a very short time, he didn’t feel any of the usual “shoulds” with her. Should figure out what she liked, should entertain her, should make things easier for her. From the moment she’d stepped onto the ranch, Kelly had fit in. She had her own interests, of course. Like that picture thing she was making from scraps of material. But her focus seemed primarily to rest on the kids and making their world right. She’d never given Sam the impression that she looked down on him, son of a rancher, nondescript and boring.

  In fact, the two of them seemed to click on most subjects. Except God.

  When Kelly Krause looked at him, Sam hoped she saw someone she could trust, someone she felt comfortable sharing with. She treated him as more than just the acting head of the family. She treated him like a close friend.

  Sam liked that about Kelly. He liked it a lot.

  Actually, he liked too much about Kelly. If he wasn’t careful, something could start building between them.

  Start? his brain mocked.

  “Okay,” he acknowledged out loud to the frosted world around him. He sighed, his breath forming a huge white cloud that seemed to hang in the air. “I admit we have some kind of connection. But nothing’s going to happen, because I won’t let it.”

  He trudged back toward the house, knowing the kids would be waiting for him to kiss them good-night. He paused at the door to gaze up into the starry night and remembered an Eskimo saying Oscar had told him about.

  Maybe those aren’t stars in the sky. Maybe they are the eyes of our loved ones, watching us.

  Jake? Are you there? I miss you.

  The cry of a coyote echoing through the air broke the quietness and dragged Sam back to reality. He stepped inside the porch and shrugged off his coat and boots as the sounds and smells of what had become home carried to him. Kids’ bathtime, a baby’s murmur and giggles. He walked eagerly toward the bedrooms. It wasn’t so bad, this fatherhood thing. It wasn’t bad at all.

  The bad part was yet to come. Just when they’d all become accustomed to Kelly making their lives so sweet, she’d leave.

  And then Sam would be left to manage all on his own. The empty hole in his heart yawned a little wider as he dredged up a smile and walked into the kids’ bedrooms to say good-night.

  * * *

  “Don’t put that there, Kelly. Can’t you see it’s out of place?”

  Saturday, two weeks later, Sam winced. Arabella moved around her new home as she continued nagging her daughter about everything from the correct placement of her beloved dishes in the Emersons’ china cabinets to how to place magazines on the built-in shelves at a precise forty-five-degree angle.

  Two hours ago he’d been amused by how quickly the movers had departed Buffalo Gap after emptying their truck of the Krause belongings and loading them into the Emersons’ former home. Now Sam wished he’d left with them.

  “Kelly, don’t you have any taste? This isn’t a gaudy cruise ship, you know.”

  As Arabella snatched the lamp from her daughter’s hand and placed it in exactly the same spot Kelly had put it ten minutes earlier, Sam decided he’d had enough. He took out his phone and called Mayor Marsha to beg for her help. Then he deliberately dropped the hassock he was carrying, hearing its thump with some satisfaction.

  “Sam!” Arabella hurried over to inspect, as if he’d made a dent in the very thick carpet. “We’re not throwing around cattle here.”

  “I’ve lifted cows that didn’t weigh as much as that thing,” he grumbled. “Is it in the right place now, or should I move it over there?” He curled his fingers around the cushion top, pretending he was going to pull it by that.

  “No, no.” A horrified Arabella placed her hand on his. “It’s fine here. Thank you. Thank you so much for your help. You’ve done so much by finding us this place and helping us get situated. We truly appreciate it.” She stepped protectively between him and her other furniture as she spoke.

  “I like this chair,” Neil said and immediately sank into the comfy arms of a leather recliner. “I’ve always liked this chair.” He held out a hand to Kelly. “You used to call it ‘the daddy chair,’” he said with a little smile.

  “That wasn’t this cha—”

  “Why did you call it that, Kelly?” Sam interrupted Arabella before she could point out Neil’s mistake. Didn’t she know that correcting him all the time only made him more frustrated?

  “I think it had something to do with a story Dad used to tell me,” Kelly murmured. She laced her fingers in her father’s then bent over and brushed a kiss against his cheek.

  “You were always late getting to bed when he read it,” Arabella snapped. “And all worked up.” Her gaze strayed to Kelly’s hand enfolding her dad’s. “It wasn’t even a child’s story,” she said in her sour tone. “I don’t know where he got it from.”

  “Didn’t matter.” Kelly’s voice lost the nostalgia. “I loved it. Do you still have it?”

  “No.” Arabella’s eyes glittered with triumph. “I had to throw it out. It was tattered.” Sam suspected she’d done it deliberately.

  “No.” Neil dug in the side pocket of his chair and pulled out a jumble of pages. “I saved it, Kelly.”

  “Dad! Thank you. May I keep it? Maybe I can get it fixed?” She held out her hand and after a sideways look at his wife, Neil gave her the book.

  “Keep it,” he said softly. “For your kids.”

  Sam’s throat blocked at the look that passed between father and daughter, a look that said I understand.

  “Kelly doesn’t have any children, remember, Neil?” Arabella’s harsh voice echoed around the room. “Kelly ran aw—”

  “Could we stop for a break now?” Sam asked loudly. “I could sure use a cup of coffee.”

  “But I don’t want to stop now. I want to arrange things the way I like them,” Arabella protested. “Anyway, I haven’t yet unpacked my coffeemaker.”

  “Oh.” The doorbell rang. Sam almost grinned at the open opportunity. “You have guests. It would probably be better if we got out of your way because we don’t seem to know how you want things. Kelly, Neil, why don’t we leave Arabella to her company while we get a coffee? We’ll bring one back for you,” he promised, smothering a chuckle at the glare she shot his way as she walked to the door.

  “Mayor Marsha,” she enthused, suddenly all smiles. “Come in.”

  “Come on, guys,” Sam chided in a low voice. “Get your coats.”

  “Good idea. You two have a visit. We’ll get out of your way.” Kelly hurried to lift their coats from the front hall closet. “You want coffee, Dad, or something else?”

  “A milkshake,” he said loudly. “A strawberry milkshake. I haven’t had one since you and I went roller-skating.”

  “Roller-skating? I think I was ten.” Kelly chuckled at the memory.

  Sam held the coats, allowing first Kelly then her father to slide their arms into the sleeves. Then he shrugged into his own sheepskin-lined jacket.

  “See
you, Mayor. We won’t be long,” he promised Arabella. “If you need anything moved, wait till we come back and I’ll do it. Okay?” He didn’t wait for her agreement before pulling open the front door. “Let’s go.”

  A few minutes later the three of them were seated in the diner, waiting for two coffees, a strawberry milkshake and a big plate of French fries.

  “I’m sure glad to see you, Kelly. You were gone a long time.” Neil smiled happily at his daughter.

  “I missed you, too, Dad.” Kelly laced her fingers with his then grinned at Sam. “Isn’t this fun?”

  Everything was fun with Kelly, Sam thought, but he didn’t say that aloud. He guessed she’d probably never walked out on her mom before, but he wasn’t sorry he’d arranged it, because now father and daughter were happily chatting, smiling as they drank and remembered the past. Neil, it seemed, loved French fries and after drowning them in ketchup, managed to eat almost the entire plate. Sam was glad this was one of his days of clarity.

  When they dropped off Neil an hour or so later, Marsha was still there. Arabella sat across from her, face wreathed in smiles. Kelly set down Arabella’s coffee and a bag with two tarts inside.

  “I thought you might like something with your coffee, though I guess we’re a little late,” she said.

  “These little towns often don’t have the best bakeries.” Arabella must have realized she’d offended Marsha, because she backtracked fast. “But I’ve heard Buffalo Gap’s is one of the best. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Kelly looked stunned. “Well, we’ve got to get back to the ranch now. Maybe you should leave whatever still needs doing till tomorrow, Mom. I imagine you’re tired.”

  “Oh, Marsha helped me finish what needs to be done now. The rest can wait. We’re just discussing quilting. Marsha and I share the interest.” Arabella waggled her fingers. “Good night.” She ushered them out and firmly closed her new front door behind them.

  Sam blinked, noticed Kelly also appeared shocked.

  “Where has that woman been and why didn’t someone introduce her to my mother before?” she whispered.

  “Don’t question a good thing.” He deliberately neglected to tell her he’d made the call. “You might not have noticed, but we’re having that chinook you wanted,” he teased. He took her arm to guide her around melting ice puddles and into the truck.

  “I did notice and I love it.” She unzipped her jacket. “Maybe soon I won’t need this.”

  “I wouldn’t toss it just yet,” Sam warned. “The Weather Channel says we’re to get freezing rain tonight, turning to snow tomorrow.” He chuckled at her groan. “You gotta toughen up, girl.”

  “Yeah.” She shuddered and zipped up her coat again.

  “I suggest we stock up on groceries then head home before the slush freezes,” Sam said. “Do you think your parents need anything?”

  “Mom told me earlier that she’d phoned for a grocery delivery, so I think they’re fine,” Kelly told him. “But thanks for thinking of them.”

  “No problem. So we’ll stock up and then head home to rescue my mother from the kids. By now she probably needs it,” Sam teased.

  But Kelly didn’t laugh.

  “I appreciate everything you did today, Sam.” Kelly’s brown eyes met his. “I know it hasn’t been easy, having my mom criticizing all the time. I can’t imagine how you finally persuaded her to move, but I’m very aware that she has tested everyone’s patience.”

  “Whatever I did was for you.” Sam chuckled at her wide-eyed surprise. “She was wearing you out with her critical attitude. I figured that if you were going to handle the kids, you needed some space. I’ll do whatever it takes to support you and make it easier on you, Kelly.” He paused. “That’s why I happened to mention to your mom that our local quilter’s group is competing with one in Calgary. I knew she couldn’t resist joining.”

  “Having her speak to Hilda Cramer before they moved was a good idea, too. I think she feels much happier about the move, knowing Hilda can help care for Dad. Added to which, Mom will have a sewing room again. That means a lot.” Kelly sighed. “I don’t know how to thank you, Sam.”

  “Pie?” he suggested slyly. Kelly rolled her eyes.

  Inside the store they filled two carts with items from Kelly’s list. He had to laugh when she lifted an apple pie from the shelf.

  “Perhaps the local bakery isn’t up to my mother’s standards, but will it meet yours?” Kelly asked tongue-in-cheek.

  “Absolutely.” As they waited in line at the checkout, Sam thought again how different it was to shop with Kelly. More fun.

  He fell to thinking of all the fun times they’d shared and only blinked back to awareness when Kelly nudged him.

  “Wake up. Sheena’s here.”

  “Let him sleep. I’m told men as old as Sam need a rest in the afternoon,” the travel agent teased.

  “Hey!” he protested as Kelly hooted with laughter.

  “How about getting together?” Sheena asked Kelly. “We haven’t managed that yet and I really want to.”

  “Why don’t you come out to the ranch tomorrow after church?” Sam suggested. “I’m making chili.”

  “You’re making chili—” Sheena stared at him, eyes wide. She knew he never touched a stove unless it was to heat a can of soup.

  Sam tried to quell his flush of satisfaction at her surprise and finally her agreement to join them for lunch. As he loaded the groceries, he didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t feeling pretty smug about the whole cooking thing.

  “Dad seemed almost like his old self today,” Kelly mused as they drove to the ranch.

  “Physically he’s very fit.” Sam gave voice to an idea he’d tossed around. “I think we should pick him up some afternoon when we take the kids sliding down my favorite hill on my old sled. Neil might enjoy going along to watch.” He paused then added, “We could have French fries afterward. He certainly seems to enjoy those. At least, he sure wasn’t big on sharing.”

  Sam managed to keep a straight face when Kelly glanced at him.

  “Oh, poor baby. Were you starving? Again?” She doubled over with laughter at his hard-done-by look.

  “I worked hard for your mom,” he said defensively. “He ate almost all those fries.”

  “At least there’s nothing wrong with Dad’s appetite,” she agreed. Her gaze dropped to the book from her childhood she’d placed on the seat between them.

  Sam only realized when he pulled into the yard that tears filled her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hating the helpless feeling her weeping brought.

  “I’m beginning to realize what I’ll miss when I leave.” Kelly touched the book reverently then lifted her head to stare at him. “He’ll never be able to tell my kids that story, if I had any. And how many more times will I get to hear him laugh like that? Bit by bit this disease is stealing my father.”

  Kelly’s sobs sounded as if her heart was breaking. And that tender, gentle heart of hers probably was. Sam shoved the gearshift into Park, set her book on the dash then leaned over and drew her into his embrace, sliding his hand down her back in what he hoped would soothe her enough to stop those sobs. His comforting her and her trying to help him over the hard spots was happening more and more often. It was good to have someone to share with again.

  “There’s only one thing you can do,” he told her when her tears finally ceased.

  “What’s that?” Kelly peered at him through lashes stuck together by her tears.

  “Love him the very best you can now.” Sam eased a few damp strands of hair away from her lips. Even crying, with her face mottled, Kelly Krause was gorgeous. “That’s what I’m learning from Jake’s death. Cherish each moment together. You don’t know if you’ll get another.”

  “It’s good advice,” Kelly agreed. “
Thank you, Sam.” She nestled against his chest, resting there. After a few moments she gave a huge sigh. “I seem to keep bawling all over you.”

  “I like it,” Sam said, only realizing the truth as he said it. “Someday you have to tell me how a beautiful woman like you doesn’t have a boyfriend insisting you get back to him.”

  A sad little smile twisted her lips. “How do you know I don’t?”

  “Do you?” Stunned by the strength of his opposition to that thought, Sam leaned back to look into her eyes. “But you never seem to get any mail—oh, of course. Email. I’m sure he misses you very much.”

  “Afraid not.” Kelly drew back. “There’s no one, Sam. Not anymore.”

  Not anymore? “Because?” He wanted to know so badly.

  “He went back to his first love. I couldn’t compete with the history they had together.” She sighed then shook her head. “Don’t say you’re sorry, because it was the right thing to happen. It took having my heart broken and a trip to Israel before I was ready to accept that God’s plans for me don’t include marriage. It’s taking me a while, but I’m growing to accept His will.”

  No! Every cell in Sam’s body protested those words. Kelly was chock-full of love, just waiting to shower it over someone. She was the kind of woman whose heart gave and gave. She couldn’t stay alone for the rest of her life. It would be a terrible waste when she had so much to give. But he couldn’t say that. It would only make her feel worse.

  Sam searched for a different way to comfort her but all he could come up with was, “Don’t worry about the future, Kelly. We’ll get through things together.”

  “Until I have to go.” Her big brown eyes searched his through the twilight shadows of the dash lights. “I wish I could stay here, Sam. I truly do.”

  “So stay.” Please? The intensity of his desire for her to stay shocked him as he realized he hadn’t been thinking only about the kids. He wanted her to stay.