Chapter Twelve

Chloe awoke the next morning to the sound of small fists beating on her cabin door and the sound of excited chatter.

“We weren’t ’spose to come this early. Grandma Betty said so.”

“Did not. She said at breakfast, and right now it’s breakfast time.”

“She’s gonna be mad, and so is Uncle Jess. You wait and see.” A little voice harrumphed in displeasure. “And it will be all your fault!”

This had to be the twins, Chloe thought as she reached for her robe and slippers and headed for the door.

Sure enough, there were two kindergarten-size blondes on the step. “Good morning, girls. How are you?”

Both of their mouths dropped open when they looked up at her, and then they looked at each other. “I told you we’d wake her up, Bella. She still has jammies on.”

A young woman appeared on the path to the cabin, coming at a dead run, her long blond hair escaping a haphazard bun at her nape. She pulled to a breathless stop next to the girls and rested a firm hand on each of them.

“I am so, so sorry. We got home late last night, and I told them to wait to come see you until later, but they snuck off. I’m afraid they’ve been very excited about a new person staying here.” She extended a hand. “I’m Abby Halliday, and you must be Chloe.”

“Correct.” Chloe accepted her brief, warm handshake. “And really, the girls were no bother at all.”

Abby gave her a wry smile. “Since we’re all here, let me introduce Bella and Sophie. And yes—they are identical, which can be a challenge at first. But now Sophie wants shorter hair, so that helps people who don’t see them often.”

Chloe grinned down at the girls. “I’m delighted to meet you both.”

Bella gave her a doubtful look. “Grandma Betty said you have curly red hair.”

“I did. But it got darker when I grew up,” Chloe said. “Did you know that I lived here when I was your age? My daddy worked on this ranch for five years. Then we moved away.”

Bella nodded solemnly. “We came two Christmases ago. But we get to stay forever and ever ’cause we got ’dopted.”

“Momma didn’t want us,” Sophie whispered, her eyes downcast.

Abby drew in a sharp breath and briefly closed her eyes. “No, sweetheart. It wasn’t like that. She still loves you. But she can’t take care of you, so she wanted you to have a good, permanent home here with us. With ponies and puppies and people who also love you. Remember?”

“Sounds like you two are very blessed.” Chloe smiled at the girls and then raised her gaze to meet Abby’s. “Can I invite you all in? I can make you breakfast, if you’d like.”

“Actually, Betty hopes you’ll come down to the big house and join us all. She said she’ll have breakfast ready in an hour.” Abby grinned. “She said to tell you that she’s making your favorites—but she wouldn’t tell me what they are.”

“I can’t even guess what she means, because everything she’s ever made was wonderful. I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. Oh—and by the way, Dev told us that you’re busy with some projects. I promise I’ll try hard to make sure the twins won’t be a nuisance in the future.”

“We just wanted to see if she had cookies.” Sophie’s rosebud mouth formed a pout and her big blue eyes shimmered. “Like Uncle Devlin told us about last night.”

The girls were so adorable that Chloe wanted to hug them both and promise them the moon, just to see them smile. “No cookies yet this morning, I’m afraid. But when I make them, I promise to bring you some. What kind do you like best?”

The girls exchanged looks.

“Nooo raisins.” Bella made a face. “They’re yucky.”

“And not dark ones.”

“I believe Sophie means molasses cookies, though I’m sure they’ll be very polite and will appreciate anything you make, and won’t be particular. Right, girls?”

They nodded, looking so crestfallen as Abby herded them toward the trail that Chloe could barely suppress a chuckle.

Grandma Lydia had known her stuff when it came to grandkids and cookies, she remembered fondly.

Wonderful sugar cookies with a heavy dusting of sparkly, colorful sugar on top. Fudgy chocolate crackle cookies. Tender, buttery shortbread wonders that melted in one’s mouth. And of course the cookies Devlin loved—chocolate chip, which could be made with M&M’s instead.

Abby glanced at the clock as she went back inside. An hour was plenty of time to get at least one batch made. It never hurt to make a good first impression—even with little girls. And maybe with Devlin...

She firmly dismissed the thought. He clearly wasn’t interested. Maybe he was still grieving the loss of his girlfriend, and maybe he always would. And even if he eventually healed, she definitely wasn’t interested. That last debacle in Minneapolis had cured her of taking foolish chances.

So why did that sneaky little inner voice in her head keep insisting that she was wrong?


Chloe knocked on the back door of the main house an hour later, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

She’d spent her life being wary about anyone who seemed to have a proclivity for drinking. But now it struck her that others might look at her and wonder the same thing. Would they think she was like her father?

It had been eighteen years since she and Dad had packed up and left without so much as a goodbye. She’d never had any doubt as to why they had to leave—the same thing had happened at other ranches before and after their five years with the Langfords.

But the lure of the bottle had always outweighed any responsibility to his family and job. And though Dad could hold his liquor and hide the truth surprisingly well, every ranch owner found out sooner or later and sent him packing. Just one of things she’d never been able to forgive, despite the words of the Lord’s Prayer she recited every night.

But she hadn’t come here wanting to deal with her past or to insert herself into the lives of the people here. She’d simply looked forward to seeing Betty and Jess, and wanted a chance to work on her writing in peaceful isolation.

Now she just had to get through this breakfast and be sociable to everyone who had come home last night. Then she could go back to her cabin, get to work and hope everyone would leave her in peace.

She heard small footsteps racing across the kitchen to the door.

“I can do it!”

“No, me!”

“Abbeeee!” one of the girls wailed. “Bella hit me.”

“Manners, girls,” Abby said quietly as she opened the door wide and gave them a stern look. “Go wash up for breakfast. Now. And, Bella, you need to put on a clean shirt.”

The twins raced out of the kitchen and Abby smiled at Chloe. “Come on in, if you dare. As you’ve already seen, the little hooligans are a little overexcited. They were up way past their bedtime last night and awoke too early.”

Chloe walked inside and handed her a plastic-bag-covered paper plate filled with a towering dome of M&M’s cookies. “These are for...whenever. The bag isn’t sealed yet because they’re still a bit warm.”

“Wow. They look and smell amazing.” Abby turned and hid them on top of the fridge. “I’ve already heard a lot about your cooking, and I can see Dev is right.”

Devlin had already been talking about her? What on earth had he been saying? “Um...thanks. I think.”

“Oh, it was all good, believe me. He says you’re an excellent cook. Feel free to stop by anytime you feel like sharing what you’ve baked.”

Abby went to the stove to pull out a breakfast casserole and set it on a trivet, then pulled out a second pan of caramel-pecan cinnamon rolls.

Abby studied the food arranged on the kitchen counter. “We’ve got orange rolls, mixed fresh fruit, a platter of crispy hash brown patties, juice, coffee and...hmm. Oh, yes, maple sausage.”

“Wow. This is enough for an army.” Chloe looked around the room. “Where’s Betty? Isn’t she here?”

“She was up early and insisted on making everything. Then she went to lie down for a while because her hip was aching. She’s improved a lot since her hip replacement in November, but the long drive home yesterday didn’t do her much good, I’m afraid.”

Betty’s hair had been silver years ago, so how old was she now? Chloe felt a little catch in her heart, wishing she’d come for visits through the years. “Is she in good health?”

“Oh, my.” Abby laughed. “Very much so. She turned seventy-eight last month and don’t even think of referring to her as elderly, or she’ll be highly offended. In fact we had a little incident here with a hired hand, late last fall. She grabbed her rifle and helped me subdue him until Jess and a deputy arrived. It was like seeing a five-foot John Wayne in a pink housecoat.”

Chloe grinned. “Sounds like she hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Still tough as shoe leather, and planning to live till I’m 110,” Betty chortled as she limped through the kitchen doorway. She beamed at Chloe as she moved forward to envelop her in a long, grandmotherly hug, then stepped back to look at her, head to toe. “My goodness, you’ve grown into such a beautiful young lady! I can’t believe my eyes. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

Jess and Devlin came in through the back door with Daisy at their heels, hung their Stetsons on the nearby rack and shucked off their boots.

Devlin tipped his head in a silent greeting to Chloe, but Jess strode across the kitchen to give her a hug. “Good to see you again, kid. I hope you had a good trip and didn’t have any trouble with my brother while we were gone. He can be mighty surly.”

Both brothers were tall, with near-black hair and beautiful silver-blue eyes, framed by long, thick lashes any woman would envy. But in Jess, she could see what Devlin might look like without the emotional and physical ravages of war. Her heart wrenched. “He...he was most kind.”

“Dev? Kind?” Jess shot a look of amazement at his brother and gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. “That’d be a first.”

“Boys,” Betty said without heat. “Get washed up so we can say grace.”

The twins quickly vied for the chairs on either side of Devlin and looked up at him with adoring eyes.

He grinned down at them and whispered something that made them laugh. Then Bella wiggled in her chair and knocked her plastic cup over, sending milk flying all over her pink T-shirt and Devlin’s lap.

Her eyes instantly filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “Sorry, Uncle Devlin. I-I didn’t mean to.”

“It was my fault, sweetie. No big deal.” He curved an arm around her thin shoulders for a quick, reassuring hug. “Only the Wicked Witch has trouble with getting wet. We’ll dry.”

Chloe stared at him, surprised. He’d been career military until his accident and had no kids as far as she knew. So when had he become so adept at calming a child? Her heart warmed at his gentleness—another surprising layer to the man who had grown and matured into someone she barely knew.

Once everyone was sitting around the long oak table in the kitchen, Betty swung her stern gaze around the table, landing on Devlin until he joined hands with the rest of them.

“Dear Lord, we thank you for our many blessings. For bringing Devlin safely home to us from his military service, for bringing Chloe to us once again. Thank you for watching over us throughout our travels and for enriching our lives as we come together as family once more. We ask that you watch over Tate and keep him safe, and bless Jess and Abby as they begin their wedding plans. And, Lord, watch over our girls as they finish their last two months in kindergarten. Finally, thank you for your bounty and this meal before us. Amen.”

Following a chorus of amens, everyone began passing around the bowls and platters of food, while Abby brought a coffeepot and pitcher of juice to the table and began to pour.

Betty tapped the side of her glass to still the twins’ chatter. “Now, everyone remember—Easter is this Sunday. So make sure you are all set the night before.” She looked at the girls with a stern expression, though her eyes were twinkling and she barely managed to hold back a smile. “That means no lost shoes, no dress changes at the last minute. And no stomping in mud puddles on the way to the car. That goes for Devlin and Jess, as well. We don’t want to be late.”

The twins giggled. “They don’t have dresses, Grandma,” they said in unison.

“They did love mud puddles when they were your age, though. And they were forever losing their good church shoes.”

Grinning, Abby leaned close to Chloe as she passed a platter of orange rolls. “I wasn’t here then, but apparently it was quite a zoo. I hear that one Sunday, they made it just in time for the final hymn.”

“I wasn’t here when they were that young, but I believe it.” Chloe passed the cinnamon rolls, wishing she could polish off an entire roll drenched in thick caramel. But even her most conservative guess on the carb content landed it far beyond anything she could try to adjust for at this meal.

Life was definitely unfair.

“What is Tate doing these days?” she asked as she took a serving spoon of the mixed fruit and passed the bowl to her left. The youngest of the Langford brothers had been the most playful of the three, an endless tease with a wicked sense of humor, at least until their sister’s death. “Is he still in Montana?”

Jess shook his head. “We don’t see him much. He follows the rodeo circuit, year after year. He only shows up when he breaks something and comes home to heal up for a while.”

Betty harrumphed. “That foolish boy needs to find the right woman and settle down before he does something to himself that the docs can’t fix.”

Apparently Tate was a touchy subject.

“So, how was your trip?” Chloe asked to no one in particular.

Abby smiled. “The girls enjoyed every minute at Disneyland, of course. We had two full days there, and the crowds weren’t very heavy.”

“We went on the It’s a Small World ride three times,” Jess said grimly. “The girls loved it, but that song has been running through my head ever since.”

“You’re a good man, Jess. They’ll always remember going on that ride with you,” Betty said with a twinkle in her eye. She took a sip of her coffee. “After Disneyland, Abby checked out some colleges. I had no idea that a person could get a degree without setting foot on a campus.”

Abby nodded. “I knew about earning undergrad degrees that way, but I’ve been surprised at all the options for the graduate level—even PhDs, and from highly regarded programs. I need something that will let me stay at the ranch as much as possible.”

She looked over at Jess and the twins, her eyes filled with so much love that it made Chloe’s own heart ache. Those relationships were all still so new, yet in Abby’s expression Chloe could see such depth of caring, such commitment to a solid future. The twins might have had a rough beginning, but now they were so blessed.

What would it be like to have parents who cherished you and put you first in their lives—even some of the time? She would never know.

She shook off her thoughts and tried to focus on the conversation.

“...so I researched my options for a distance-learning degree months ago,” Abby continued. “And I’ve already applied to the three I liked best. But it really helped to talk face-to-face with counselors and some graduate faculty during our trip. Now I know for sure which one I prefer.”

“That’s wonderful, Abby.” Chloe eyed the breakfast casserole, made a rough calculation of the carbohydrate content and put a scoop on her plate. “So, you’ll be able to finish it all online?”

“Mostly—plus some week-long seminars on campus during the school year. One of them is actually coming up in May.”

“When will you know about your acceptance?”

“Any day. And since the program allows a flexible structure instead of strict semesters, I could possibly get registered in time for that seminar. I hope.”

“We also looked at some stallion prospects while we were in California.” Betty looked at Jess. “I thought they were all beautiful, but you’re a lot more discerning than I am. Have you made a decision?”

He lifted another caramel roll from the pan in front of him and put it on his plate. “Probably the sorrel in Sacramento, if we can agree on a price.”

Abby gave the twins a pointed glance, then looked at Chloe and shook her head slightly, clearly wanting to avoid any conversation involving the visit with the girls’ mother.

“So,” she said brightly, deftly changing the topic. “I would love to hear about what you’ve been doing since leaving here. You were what—around eleven?”

Chloe shifted uneasily in her chair and took a slow sip of coffee as she sorted through what she could share and what was better left unsaid.

“Nothing much to tell, really. Dad and I moved on to his next ranch job. My mom suddenly showed up and took me to live with her in Omaha, then later we moved to Minnesota. I finished grad school at the end of fall semester. A pretty ordinary life, really.”

Abby leaned forward, her interest piqued. “What was your major?”

“A bachelor’s in English, and an MFA in creative writing.”

“Wow. That’s wonderful. I’ve heard that some of those programs involve finishing a publishable book of some kind as a final thesis project. Did you have to do that?”

“Publishable and actually being published are two different things, but yes. I finished mine, though by the time I was halfway through, I’d realized that adult literary fiction wasn’t what I wanted to pursue. I started to change my focus to young-adult fiction, but then...well, things changed. I lost my job when the company went under.”

Betty stirred some sugar into her coffee. “When you called about coming to Montana, you mentioned a job in Kansas City. You didn’t sound very happy about it, though. Have you found something else?”

All of the adults were now looking at Chloe, their expressions curious. They would be even more so if she told them why she’d left the Twin Cities. But that wasn’t going to happen.

She cleared her throat. “No, I haven’t looked. I’ll work for my sister and brother-in-law for a year or so, then reconsider. But I’ll still be working on my writing during my free hours, so it’s all good.”

Though good was a relative term. Her father’s tarnished past would pale in comparison to what had happened to her in Minneapolis, even if it had been entirely unfair. But once she had a good reference on her resume, for a reasonable amount of employment, she could start over somewhere else.

At the other end of the table, she saw Devlin looking at her, his brow furrowed. A little chill crawled down her spine.

She could tell that he was thinking too hard about what she’d just said. Maybe guessing that there was much more to the story. What if he googled her name? Would he believe the newspaper articles, or would he believe her?

She looked down at her plate and started to pray.