streak marring her white jacket. When the girls were once more settled in their seats, Dahlia scrounged through her bag and found two packs of crackers and cheese.
“I don’t know where your dad is,” she said, summoning a smile. “But why don’t we have a picnic. A proper ladies’ picnic,” she emphasized when Grace began to climb down. “We have to sit nicely in our seats. Now we’ll carefully open our snacks.”
Of course the cheese and crackers didn’t open properly and crumbs spilled everywhere. It seemed only seconds passed before the cheese and crackers disappeared—except for what covered their faces and hands.
“What’s going on?” Grant stood in the aisle.
Dahlia noticed the lines of tiredness fanning out around his gray eyes. He was an exceptionally good-looking man despite his rumpled shirt and tousled brown hair. Not rail thin. Just nicely muscled with a dark shadow on his chin and cheeks. He wasn’t as tall as some of her male friends in Churchill, which Dahlia liked. It always made her uncomfortable when someone loomed over her five-four frame.
“Um, what are you doing?”
Dahlia suddenly realized that they had the attention of all the other passengers. The morning was going from bad to worse. “They were hungry,” she murmured.
“That’s why I went to get them something to eat.” He held up a bulging white bag, gray eyes cool as a northern snow sky.
“I figured that, but the twins were getting restless,” she murmured. “I didn’t think you’d want them disturbing others, so I let them have some cheese and crackers.”
“Thank you. That was very kind, Dahlia. It’s just that their mother didn’t feed them processed food.” Suddenly his gray eyes narrowed. “That’s not what you were wearing before, is it?”
“No, I changed.” She caught sight of Glory’s face, her blue eyes were wide with worry. “Because I, uh, spilled some water.”
“You did?” Grant asked, a hint of suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Did you spill water on your hair, too?” When she nodded, he glanced at the twins, then back at her. “I see. Well, thanks for helping them.”
“No problem.” She waited, shifting under his intense scrutiny.
He turned his focus on the girls. “I brought you fruit juice and a roll with jam.”
“Mommy doesn’t let us eat jam,” Grace said.
“Well, you’ll have to eat it today. It’s all I could get.”
Before Grant turned away Dahlia saw red spots appear on his cheekbones. The poor guy was trying, but the twins looked mutinous.
“I don’t want it.” A sad look fell across Grace’s face. “I want my mommy,” she wailed in a tearful tone as Glory joined in.
Those tears tore at Dahlia—she wanted to gather the girls in her arms and comfort them. But Grant simply patted Grace’s head and clung to the bag with their breakfast while gazing helplessly at his weeping daughters. Glory, her face now streaming with tears, hugged her sister close and murmured reassurance.
Dahlia couldn’t figure out Grant’s reaction. He cleared his throat but no words emerged. He seemed confused. What was going on?
When it became clear to Dahlia that, for whatever reason, Grant wasn’t going to comfort the girls, she stepped in.
“Hey, you two. Let’s go clean up and then you’ll be ready to enjoy the breakfast your dad brought. Okay?” She lifted an eyebrow at Grant. For a moment Dahlia thought he’d refuse to let her escort them to the washroom. But before he could, the twins’ sunny smiles returned and each grabbed her hand.
“Okay.” They squeezed in front of her, heading down the aisle, chattering back and forth like young magpies. Dahlia held the door open, then glanced back at Grant. He was still standing where she’d left him, a bewildered look on his face.
Then he lifted his head and looked straight at her. She’d never seen anyone look so lost, so overwhelmed.
That’s when Dahlia made up her mind.
She was a graduate of the betrayed-by-someone-you-trust-school and she had no intention of opening herself up to that again. But someone had to help Grant, and it might as well be her.
She’d step in—but only for the twins’ sake.
When they returned from the bathroom, Grant was still standing in the aisle. Dahlia suggested Glory and Grace sit together, leaving Grant to sit in the empty seat next to Dahlia. The two girls dug ravenously into what seemed to Dahlia pitifully small and not very nourishing breakfasts, but then, she was no expert on feeding children.
“Is that what they usually eat?” she asked.
“They usually have a large bowl of hot cereal. Eva, their mother, always fed them nutritious food. I’ve tried to maintain that, but—” He sighed. “I can’t always find it.”
“Was your wife a vegetarian?” Dahlia hoped that didn’t sound nosey. “My brother was a vegan. The doctor told my mom to make sure he got enough protein. Otherwise he was always starving.”
Grant considered that for a moment. “I brought soup along for supper last night, but it didn’t seem to satisfy them. I guess you noticed they were awake several times through the night.” He sighed. “I’m new to all this.”
“How long have you been at it?” she asked curiously.
“Eva died six months ago. We’d only been married nine months.” He turned to glance at the girls. “She was so good with them.”
“She had five years to practice,” Dahlia reminded him. “You’ve only been a dad for a short while. Give yourself time.”
“I’m not cut out to be a father. I’ve always known that.” Grant’s voice grew introspective. “But I didn’t know I was going to lose Eva and have to parent on my own.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dahlia whispered thinking he was lucky to have found love even though his voice betrayed the pain of his loss.
She thought he must have loved Eva deeply. She had seen the same kind of love between some of her friends in Churchill. But though she’d often longed for it, she’d never found that special kind of love for herself. Once she’d thought she had, but even then, even when she’d worn Charles’s engagement ring, she’d never been certain he was the man God chose for her. And apparently she’d been right because Charles had quickly dumped her when she’d sold her shares in her family’s architectural firm. He hadn’t bothered to show up to say goodbye when she’d left Toronto either. No one had.
Eager to forget the past, she asked, “Was that why you came to Churchill, to get away from the memories?”
“I’ll never get away from those.” Grant glanced at the girls. “But at least in Churchill I’ll have work.”
It suddenly occurred to Dahlia that, because of his work as a counselor, Grant might be able to help with Arlen.
“Speaking of your work, can
