Four months later
“EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT TODAY?” After checking to make sure Jenna Moran’s car wasn’t parked out front, Hadley banged through the door at the McMann ranch. Jenna’s weekly visits to the twins irritated him. He didn’t like being under a microscope. Who was she to judge him? He was glad she wasn’t there tonight because he needed to speak to Clara, the widowed owner of the ranch, about their living situation.
Clara rushed into the hall carrying both twins. “Couldn’t be better,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet his, and Hadley reminded himself, as he did most nights, that she wasn’t a young woman anymore. With graying dark hair and light brown eyes, Clara was still slim, even thin, and she must be worn out after all day tending to his babies. Yet she’d taken over their care without a qualm. In fact, it had been Clara’s suggestion for them to move in with her rather than return to the small apartment he’d shared with Amy. The only time Clara seemed flustered was when Jenna Moran came to the ranch, and only because Clara picked up on the tension between Jenna and Hadley.
“Got home soon as I could,” he said. “Had a cow run through some wire and need stitches. Sorry I’m late.”
“You aren’t, dear. We’ve been fine.” She glanced down at Gracie. “But she was a tad cranky this afternoon.”
Teething already? Hadley started to slip a finger in Gracie’s mouth to see if her gums were tender but thought better of it. He’d washed up at the NLS ranch, where he worked, but he doubted his hands were clean enough.
When he’d lived with Amy, Hadley used to take the long way home. Now and then he’d stop at Rowdy’s, the only bar in town, for one beer before he continued on to the apartment. By the time he got there, Amy would have that look in her eyes that seemed to beg him to love her. “It’s not in me,” he’d told her a million times, yet she’d always chosen to believe he could change. Would it have killed him to let her think he really loved her before she died having his babies? They were his daily reminder of the wrong he’d done Amy.
He was also being unfair now to Clara, the kindest person he knew. Hadley owed her, not the other way around. In his teens the McManns had become his last foster parents, and he’d spent several years on their midsize ranch, learning to cowboy from Clara’s husband, Cliff. He’d also learned to be a man—as much as he ever would be, considering his beginnings. By eighteen he’d been on his own, but no other place had ever felt the same, so finally Hadley had come back to Barren. A few years later he’d met Amy, married her, and he was still here, though he got twitchy whenever he stayed anywhere too long.
Hadley’s talk with Clara had to wait until the twins finally fell asleep—at the same time, for once. He and Clara stood by their crib, which the babies shared, just gazing at them. Both twins had their thumbs in their mouths, and their eyes were closed with that expression of utter peace on their faces that always caught at his heart. Hadley laid a hand on each little chest.
“You don’t have to check every night,” Clara said with a knowing smile. “They’re healthy as can be and ready to make more energy for tomorrow.”
She often seemed to sense what he was thinking. Maybe it was neurotic of him to test their breathing, but he couldn’t help himself. After Amy died, and he held them for the first time in that room across from the hospital nursery, he’d become a worrier. He supposed he’d carry that to his own grave.
He and Clara went downstairs where, by habit, they settled at the kitchen table. Darkness had fallen while they bathed the twins, then wrestled them into their sleepers for the night and said their prayers for them.
“Okay,” he said, stirring his coffee, “let’s talk. I’ve made a decision.”
Clara straightened in her chair. “So have I.”
Hadley stiffened. He’d sensed her earlier frown wasn’t about Gracie being fussy. He’d been right. Clara was exhausted. He’d known this moment would come ever since he had moved in and filled her tidy house to the rafters with all the babies’ gear. The twins seemed to outgrow their clothes every week, and he was now a regular customer at Baby Things. Apparently, so was Jenna Moran, who brought shirts and jeans and dresses and toys whenever she came to see them. Which, even once a week, was too often for Hadley. Fortunately, he was usually at work then.
“I should look for another place, Clara,” he began, then held up a hand. “I know, you’ve told me you like having us here, and you’re great with Luke and Gracie, but we’re in your way.”
Clara’s eyes filled. “Move out now? How would you manage, having to work and care for those sweet babies with no one to help?”
Had he been wrong after all? Hadley tried to ignore a sudden mental image of Jenna. Why think of her? They were like oil and water. She had a sense of style that set off her auburn hair and blue eyes, liked antiques and probably other fancy stuff. Hadley preferred working in a barn. He was jeans and old boots. This was her hometown, but Hadley was already planning to move—on his terms, not like when he was a kid. “I can put the twins in day care. I know how tough this has been on you.”
Her chin went up. “No, you do not. When I lost Cliff, I lost myself for a while. Then after you had those beautiful babies, I found out who I was again.”
Hadley twirled his coffee cup. He’d never thought he was doing something for Clara. Quite the reverse.
“I understand about Cliff,” he said. “But before you know it, the twins will be crawling around, then walking and running all over the place.”
She frowned. “You’re saying I’m too old to chase after them.”
“I’m saying you deserve a rest. I can’t ever thank you for everything you’ve already done, but Clara, we’re imposing. I can’t ask more of you.”
“And where will you live?”
A good question. He wasn’t foreman at the Sutherland ranch any longer and didn’t have the house that came with the NLS job. Hadley was now an ordinary cowhand there, hoping he wouldn’t be let go when winter came on again and the ranch hunkered down to wait out the snow. It was early spring now, and his job seemed safe; it was a busy season on any ranch except this one. He glanced out the window at the empty fields the McManns had worked for decades before Cliff died. “I’ll get an apartment in town again,” he said.
“You’ve got this all wrong, Hadley.” Clara set her cup aside. “Does this have to do with Jenna Moran?”
“Partly, maybe. Sure.” In his own place, she couldn’t surprise him with a visit. She’d soon get discouraged, then stop coming to check on the twins—and Hadley.
“You’d let that sweet woman chase you off? When you’re far more comfortable here than you would be in a tiny apartment?”
He blinked. He’d heard another note in Clara’s tone. Sorrow? It had never occurred to him that Clara needed them as much as they needed her. He was never good with women, Amy being no exception. He could never figure out Jenna Moran, either, who got under his skin every time he saw her.
Clara struggled to continue. “I don’t want you and the twins to leave…” Before she said the rest, Hadley knew he’d lost control of the situation. It wouldn’t be his choice after all. “And I hate to do this, making matters worse, but with Cliff gone,” Clara went on, “and our land sitting fallow, it has become too difficult—even with the
