your parents?”
“They were furious. I told them how disappointed I was that they’d treated me so poorly.” She exhaled, brushed away a tear and continued. “I told them that I’d prove I am strong enough to build my life and that until they were ready to acknowledge me as a fully capable adult, I didn’t want to see them again.”
“And you haven’t?” he asked when she paused.
“Granny Bev had a stroke the next day. I stayed with her until she died. As soon as her funeral was over, I left. I’ve never gone back.” Dahlia had to stop for a moment. “Before she died, Granny Bev said to me, ‘You are the strongest person I know. Live your life your way, Dally.’ So that’s what I’m doing.”
He nodded, his eyes on her, watching, waiting.
“She left me her stock in my parents’ company. I sold my stock to buy my store here. I’ve never regretted that,” Dahlia added.
“And Charles?”
“I’ve regretted him many times, but I never heard from him again, which is just as well,” she told him.
“So now you’re determined to live by your grandmother’s words,” he mused. “You’re proving you’re smart and strong and capable.”
“Yes.” She frowned at him, hearing something underlying his words. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing at all. I’m just wondering if it’s enough for you.”
“What do you mean?” Dahlia found herself irritated by his words.
“I’ve seen you with the twins. I’ve listened to you talk about Arlen. You have a heart for kids. You love people. You need people.” Grant paused, then quietly said, “Shutting out love because one man hurt you won’t heal your heart.”
“I have lots of love in my life,” she replied defensively. “I have good friends. We support each other. And one day maybe I’ll have a child, too. Perhaps Arlen.”
“Will that prove your strength?” he asked quietly. “Will he be enough to heal the pain Charles and your parents caused?”
Dahlia stared at Grant. Images of the fairy-tale dream from her youth, one she’d never shared with anyone but Damon, played through her mind. A family, motherhood. A husband, laughter, love...
“I don’t know what it will prove,” Dahlia whispered. “I only know I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for. I need to prove myself.”
Grant didn’t say anything for a long time. Tension stretched between them like a taut wire and finally, when Dahlia could stand it no more, she rose.
“I should go home. Thanks for sharing the twins’ bath time with me. It was fun.”
“Not a word I would have used to describe it, but you’re welcome.” He smiled as he escorted her to the door.
She started to say good-night, but instead, she asked, “After all I told you, aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I’m not a judge, Dahlia. You have a right to live your life any way you want. I wonder though—” He paused, not taking his eyes off her.
“Yes?” Dahlia shifted under that stare.
“I wonder if you realize you just described love as making you vulnerable and weak.”
Dahlia felt as if he’d somehow seen right into her heart. Without addressing his comment, she simply said good-night, took her bike from the driveway and rode away, aware that he stood there watching until she turned the corner. Her thoughts were on Grant and what he’d said.
She was embarrassed by how much she’d shared with him, but more than that, she was floored by his observation. Did she really see love as making her weak and vulnerable? She’d certainly been made to feel that way by her parents and Charles.
Then Dahlia wondered if Grant said that to her because he felt the same way.
She remembered the petrified look on his face when the girls were saying good-night to him and decided that whether he knew it or not, she wasn’t the only one who needed help untangling feelings about love.
Perhaps they could actually help each other. Dahlia could offer him assistance with the twins, and he could help her get through to Arlen. Perhaps they could help each other get closer to love.
The question was, was it safe for her to spend time with a man who made her heart beat a little faster simply by studying her with those gray eyes that seemed to look right into her heart?
There was only one way to find out.
“I guess I don’t understand what Grant’s doing,” Dahlia admitted to Laurel. She glanced around Common Grounds, the local coffee hangout, relieved it was almost empty. She didn’t want anyone to overhear. “He never says very much to them.”
“Grant explained to me that he’s trying to gain the boys’ trust first, by listening,” Laurel said. “It only seems like he’s not doing anything.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’m sure he knows exactly what he’s doing with the boys. It’s his daughters I’m referring to.”
“The twins?” Her friend shook her head, her confusion evident. “Grant seems like a very conscientious father.”
“He is. That isn’t what I meant, either. It’s just—” Dahlia sighed. Laurel was looking at her quizzically. “Don’t you think he seems rather standoffish with the girls?”
“I haven’t really seen him with them much but no, I’ve never thought that,” Laurel said. Her forehead pleated in a frown. “Why? Do you think there’s something wrong?”
“No, no.” Dahlia wished she’d never said a word. “I’ve just noticed he doesn’t show them much affection, though I suppose that could have something to do with his grieving process.”
“Maybe he’s not the affectionate type,” her friend suggested. “It’s obvious the twins love him dearly, so I doubt there’s anything to worry about.”
Dahlia didn’t want to belabor the point, though her reservations remained. “I have to get back to work, but thanks for sharing coffee with me. I don’t get out of the store in the afternoon very often.”
“You should,” Laurel encouraged. “You push yourself too hard.”
“If I don’t, who will?” Dahlia smiled, paid for their coffee, then hurried back to work. On the way she met Eddie Smart, one of the many miners who used Churchill as his home base.
“Hey, gorgeous. Are you free to have dinner with me tonight?” When she hesitated he added, “I’m going back up north to the mine in a couple of days.”
“Oh, Eddie, I’m sorry.
