in Buffalo Gap and she suggested you might help make that happen. Cindy says that when it comes to protecting kids, you’re like a tigress.” Marsha’s gaze held Abby’s. “That might be what I need to keep Ivor in this town.”
“Why is it so important he stay here?” Cade interrupted the knowing glance shared between the women.
“Aside from the fact that Buffalo Gap is Ivor’s home?” Marsha’s intense gaze shifted to him. Cade nodded. “We need him to stay because showing we have the wherewithal to handle these kind of challenges is one way of moving forward with an idea I’ve been hoping to initiate.”
Another of the mayor’s “ideas.” Cade had heard about many other impractical plans. He stifled his groan.
“I want us to open a placement plus adoption agency in Buffalo Gap,” Marsha said.
“Really?” Abby leaned forward and said in an eager voice, “Tell me about it.”
Marsha’s idea took a while to explain. Cade found another chair and set it so Marsha could be seated without having to remove her boots. Then he leaned his shoulder against the wall, waited and listened.
“Buffalo Gap is a small town and like most other small towns, we’re shrinking. We don’t have the economic base or the industry to draw people here. Besides, Calgary’s barely half an hour away. It’s nothing for folks to drive there and back for what they need.” Marsha paused. A twinkle lit her eyes when she smiled at Abby. “But we have two important assets—lots of land with lots of families.”
“I don’t see—” Cade paused when Abby interrupted.
“I think I do. Your town can offer foster homes for displaced kids with families who have lots of land for them to run free on, animals to care for and an atmosphere that offers respite from whatever the troubled kids might be suffering.” She said it thoughtfully while staring at some distant point. “On ranches like this one.” She turned her head to look at Cade. “It’s a marvelous idea,” she told him. Then she frowned at Marsha. “But I don’t get the adoption angle.”
“A small town has great connections. Everyone knows someone. A friend of mine used to run an adoption agency down east. She gave that up when she moved here to marry but she’s continued to help find homes for children. The difference is, she’s been doing it unofficially.”
“I see.” Abby nodded.
“It gets better.” Marsha leaned forward. “Recently, six separate couples have come to her asking for help to adopt a child because they heard about her success. So now she wants to open a formal adoption agency.”
Abby nibbled on her bottom lip as she listened. She looked so cute. Cade refocused.
“My friend’s husband died about eight months ago. She’s got the time and the money but she’s near retirement and doesn’t want the responsibility of opening an agency on her own,” Marsha explained. Her gaze narrowed on Abby. “You’d be a perfect partner.”
“Abby’s going to have twins,” Cade interjected without thinking. The words sounded silly even to him. He hadn’t really wanted to bring her here to the Double L but now that Abby was here, he didn’t want her to go?
“I’m not giving birth for a few months,” Abby said sharply with a sideways glare at him. “That doesn’t make me helpless in the meantime.”
“But—”
“Look, we can argue about my fragile state another time,” she said, cutting him off briskly. “The one to focus on now is Ivor. Can Marsha bring him here?”
All Cade had wanted was to help Max’s wife out of a tough situation. Even that was only meant to be a temporary solution. Now they were asking him to take on a grieving boy, too, to open his home to someone else who would witness his father’s hate toward his own son?
“Please let him come, Cade,” Abby whispered. She rose, walked toward him and grasped his hand in hers. “I’ll keep track of him. I promise he won’t go near your dad. I can help him. I know I can,” she said, her voice impassioned. “Please let me be useful again.”
How was he supposed to argue with that logic?
“He can come,” Cade said gruffly, too aware of Abby’s small hands still clutching his. “But only for as long as it takes to find him another home. This isn’t permanent—”
“Oh, thank you, Cade.” Abby flung her arms around him and hugged him. “Thank you for giving Ivor a chance.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said into her hair, his hands moving automatically around her waist. His nose twitched at her soft lilac scent.
“Ahem.” Marsha’s voice broke into his reverie.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Abby pulled away from Cade. She kept her eyes downcast but her cheeks were hot pink. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you.”
“You did.” He grinned when she peeked up at him through her lashes. “Very nicely, too.” Her eyes widened at his teasing tone, as if she didn’t expect him to have a sense of humor.
“So I’ll go get Ivor and bring him here,” Marsha asked, glancing from Cade to Abby, a question on her face. “Okay?”
Abby stared at Cade. “Okay?” she murmured.
Cade exhaled, straightened his shoulders and nodded.
“We’ll get a room ready for him. But he only stays as long as absolutely necessary,” he emphasized. “Agreed?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Marsha said. She rose, buttoned her coat and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Cade nodded, let her out and then closed the door behind her with a sigh.
“You’re doing the right thing, Cade. God will bless you for it,” Abby whispered.
He wasn’t sure about God or blessings, but he was pretty sure his dad would hate him for it.
Still, Cade mused as he walked with Abby chattering madly beside him, how could you possibly refuse a woman who wanted to help some hurting kid? Her sweetness, her gentleness, her care and concern were part of her nature. Those were only some of the things he liked most about Abby McDonald.
Maybe if he’d met a woman like Abby—
Cade immediately eradicated those thoughts. Romance wasn’t going to be part of his life. He didn’t have what it took to be a loving partner. And anyway, he wasn’t free to get involved, even if he wanted to. He had his father to think of and to plan a future for.
Cade was not going to let his heart get involved with anyone, but he was also determined never to end up bitter and angry like his dad. With Abby here, maybe that would get easier.
“You must have been starved,” Abby said, watching Ivor inhale the two sandwiches Mrs. Swanson had made for him. “Would you like something else? I don’t think Cade ate all of that delicious chocolate cake we had for dessert.”
She hadn’t finished saying it before Mrs. Swanson set a huge piece in front of the boy, patted his shoulder and clucked sympathetically. Then the housekeeper said good-night.
Cade sat on the other side of Ivor, nursing a mug of steaming coffee, broodingly silent. Abby saw his head jerk upward as the sound of his father’s motorized wheelchair drew near. Every muscle tense, Cade shoved to his feet, his eyes dark, his brows lowered. Abby thought the frown spoiled his very handsome face.
Thump! His father banged his cane on the tiled floor to gain attention as he glared at Ivor first, then Cade. Even after all these years his father still needed to look in control. Only difference was, now he used a cane to do it.
Who’s he? he