Her Secret Twins Page 6

  She only hoped she could see Grant as a friend without getting her heart too attached this time.

  Chapter Four

  Getting two babies ready before eight in the morning was like wrestling two octopuses.

  “Hold still, Ainsley,” Kallie said around a couple ponytail holders caught between her teeth.

  She twisted a sprout of her daughter’s dark curls around her fingers to secure them while reaching for the comb with her free hand.

  Well, free-ish hand. Free when it wasn’t redirecting Ainsley back to her lap or batting her puppy stuffed animal out of her face or steadying Peter as he tried to climb into her lap, too, convinced his sister was getting too much of the attention.

  Normally, they could go at their leisure. When they worked the fields early, there was no need to fix hair and change out of pajamas. Those things could wait until they came back to the house. But today was Sunday, and Grant would be here soon to accompany them to church. Why he insisted on riding in their car, Kallie didn’t know. But regardless, she found herself stressed about getting the kids to look their best for their first time to church with their dad.

  But the clock above the TV said he’d be here any minute. She was dragging, slower than usual. It hadn’t helped that she’d stayed up way too late, her mind overflowing with worry over Grant and the kids, and so she’d totally slept through her alarm.

  Ainsley spotted a toy she wanted and darted forward. Kallie secured the ponytail in the nick of time and let out a whoop, holding up her hands like she’d completed a round of Celebrity Bake Off. The little gal still needed a shirt and leggings, but she’d celebrate one success at a time.

  “Okay, punkin.” She hoisted Peter over her lap and laid him on the carpet. “Time to change your diaper.”

  And by the smell of things, she was going to need a lot of wipes.

  Peter protested being on his back, so she handed him a floppy, stuffed giraffe to keep his interest. She removed the diaper and reached for the wipes...only to find they’d moved several feet away.

  “What?” she said under her breath. The package had been right next to her when she’d changed Ainsley. “Peter, don’t move.”

  Holding his legs in one hand, Kallie stretched for the wipes with the other. That’s when she spotted Ainsley, barreling toward Peter, squealing with delight and her arms outstretched.

  “Oh, no, honey!” Abandoning the wipes, Kallie linked her arm around Ainsley’s waist before she could jump on Peter—who promptly wriggled away from Kallie’s grasp and took off crawling across the living room floor. Diaperless.

  It was then that a knock sounded at the screen door.

  Kallie dove after Peter, snatching him before he could get too far. “It’s open!”

  Soon she heard the screen door open and Grant’s shoes crossing the kitchen linoleum. “Kallie?”

  “In here.” As he appeared around the corner, she placed Peter back on the carpet in their starting position. “Could you grab that package of wipes by your feet?”

  “Oh, sure.” He scooped up the package and opened it as he passed it off.

  “Thanks.” She slipped out a wipe, sending him a quick smile.

  Which nearly made her do a double take. Grant stood there in a blue Western shirt with pearl snaps and, again, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His signature look. One that used to make her go weak at the knees. Might still have that power if she wasn’t careful.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Grant stepped farther into the room—gingerly, as it was littered with two nursing pillows, the kids’ car seat carriers, this morning’s jammies and the day’s clothes. Toys, so many toys. And clean diapers Ainsley had successfully pulled out of the caddy Kallie had refilled last night. So much for wanting everything to be perfect.

  She tossed him Peter’s pants and shirt, then secured the fresh diaper on her son. “Can you put these on Peter, please?” She released him and snagged Ainsley as she toddled by, a container of diaper rash ointment in her chubby hand.

  Kallie removed the ointment from her daughter’s possession and slipped her leggings up over her legs. “Pants,” she announced to Ainsley. “They go on your legs.” She wasn’t sure how much the kids actually understood at this age, but the internet said to talk to babies constantly about what you were doing.

  “Did I get the time wrong, or are we supposed to be out the door in ten minutes?” Grant asked.

  “Yes, if we want to be on time.” Which she knew he did. “Sorry, I’m running behind.”

  “No worries. Glad I could help.”

  She glanced at him. Peter squirmed as the shirt was pulled over his head at a rather slow, awkward speed. If she wasn’t mistaken, uncertainty flickered in Grant’s eyes as he fumbled with Peter’s flailing arms.

  “Any experience changing kids’ clothes?” she asked.

  “Um...that would be a no.”

  His tone sounded sheepish, which made her feel a little guilty for asking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Peter’s resilient. It won’t hurt him if it takes a bit to put on his shirt and pants.”

  With the apology hanging between them, both went back to dressing the kids. Still, the sting was there, behind it all. The reminder that Grant was their father by blood but hadn’t been around for any of their upbringing. Not knowing about them was Kallie’s fault. But if he’d known, would he have come around, what with his thriving businesses and aversion to fatherhood? Or had he needed to be here for the inheritance in order to connect with the kids and make the leap to stay?

  And which was worse for the kids—growing up with a dad who never knew they existed or one who just chose to stay away?

  They loaded the kids and bags into Kallie’s extended cab truck. She gave Grant a quick lesson in how to harness the babies in their car seats before shuffling a few items to make room for the diaper bag, a toy bag to keep the kids occupied during the service and a picnic lunch for afterward.

  Finally, they were off.

  It felt odd being in the driver’s seat while Grant sat beside her. When they’d dated, it had always been the other way around. But Kallie quickly shook the thought from her mind and focused on the gravel road. All memories from their dating days should be held at bay. Because he might say he was determined to stick around for the long haul, but she’d seen firsthand how restless he got during the long hours of harvesting, stuck inside a combine, and that time wasn’t far off. So it didn’t matter what the past was like—what mattered was keeping her head now.

  “I thought we’d have a picnic lunch after church,” she said, purposefully changing the course of her thoughts. “That little park near the church would be perfect. It’s so nice right now, and I’d like to get the kids outside before it gets too hot to do these kinds of outings.”

  “Good idea.”

  She glanced in Grant’s direction, but he had his gaze trained on the surrounding prairie, his knee bouncing to the beat of the country song on the radio. She waited a few more seconds, but he offered no further thoughts.

  Suppressing a sigh, she worked her grip on the steering wheel, telling herself that it was better if they didn’t connect again like they had last night. Better to stay platonic partners only.

  She stopped the pickup at the end of the gravel road, waiting until a car passed so she could get onto the highway that led to Bitter Creek. While they sat there, her cell phone’s ringtone sprang to life.

  Who was calling on a Sunday morning?

  She glanced at her phone before exhaling and dropping it onto the middle of the bench seat.

  “Who is it, a telemarketer?”

  “No. My mom.” Kallie eased onto the gas pedal, making her way onto the highway.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “I think she’s just wondering if she got any more of Dad’s money in his will.”

 
Grant was silent a moment as the ringtone finally died away. “Did she tell you she was?”

  “No.” She’d received some already—it’d been Dad’s personal choice to offer it, since they were divorced. “But I don’t know why else she’d call.”

  Grant shrugged. “I mean, you could answer it...”

  She shot him a glare. “It’s not as easy as answering a simple phone call. It’s—it’s managing the door of communication that would open as a result.” She’d have to brace herself against the excuses that would only serve to hurt her.

  An incoming text chimed.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Grant was watching her. Then he tipped his head a bit to see her screen.

  “She says she has something important to discuss with you.”

  She shrugged. “I guess she’ll just have to wait until sometime when I’m free. Like after the kids graduate college.”

  Grant chuckled under his breath. “Come on, Kallie. What do you have against your mom that you won’t even call her back?”

  “Would you call your dad back if he called?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it?” Her shoulders felt rigid beneath the weight of this discussion. She threw him a quick look. “To answer your question, when you worked here, how often did my mom come home?”

  “Just once. For your graduation. But your parents split sometime around then, I think.”

  “Yeah. Once. She missed everything.”

  “But that was years ago.”

  “Yes. That doesn’t mean time has healed anything, though. And like I said, you of all people should know what it’s like to grow up with a difficult parent.”

  Grant cleared his throat. “My dad finds excuses not to work, and your mom is one of the most ambitious people I can think of. I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

  “It’s totally the same thing. I mean, yes, she was here for the ceremony, but not the work leading up to it. While other moms were sending out graduation party invitations and scooping watermelon balls into a serving bowl and deciding what kind of punch to make, mine was off closing deals.”

  Grant frowned. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

  Kallie didn’t answer at first. “Maybe. But whenever she came home, she always wanted to act like no time had passed, that we were still okay. But the truth was, we hardly knew each other.” She shook her head. “It’s not supposed to be that way with your mom.”

  “Do you think she might want to heal things?”

  Thickness gathered in her throat. “If that’s the case, then she should’ve come to Dad’s funeral.”

  Kallie thought about her mother throughout church services while Grant stood beside her and sang, his baritone so familiar. She knew she was being prickly, and she wished she wasn’t. But how did someone move past hurt that ran so deep? She wished she knew.

  * * *

  Ainsley bounced on Grant’s lap during the church service, her curls dancing as she waved her doll back and forth in front of her. Apparently the way the doll’s frilly dress and yarn hair swayed with each movement fascinated her.

  And it made Grant smile. Beam with pride, really, to fully be in his kids’ lives. The only thing that would make it better was if Kallie would relax into this new situation they’d been handed. He wasn’t asking for her to love him again. He wasn’t even asking her to like him. He knew that ship had sailed. But it would be nice to be considered an equal—in parenting and in running the farm.

  After services ended, the quiet din of congregants rose around them. It was a pretty small church, as Bitter Creek itself was tiny, and he was fairly certain they all knew he was the twins’ dad. For him, attending church was important regardless of how people felt about him, so he’d come anyway. But he’d fully expected to defend to people why he was back in town.

  Surprisingly, though, no one asked. Several old friends turned to greet him, and they seemed genuinely happy to see him there.

  “Huh. Interesting,” he murmured as the last person headed away.

  “What’d you say?” Kallie looked up from strapping Peter into his car seat carrier on the pew beside Grant.

  “Nothing.” He smiled in response. “Just happy to be back.”

  A very brief shadow crossed her gaze before she returned his smile. Then her gaze focused on something behind him, and she straightened.

  “Grant Young.”

  He turned, finding Brendan Millard standing behind them.

  “Hey there, Brendan.” Grant reached out to shake the man’s hand, spotting his cousin Ronnie Millard closing in, as well.

  Brendan stared at Grant for a second, long enough to size him up, before finally sliding his hand into Grant’s. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

  Ronnie popped up beside Brendan, small in frame for a man, though he held his chin up as if wanting to appear bigger.

  “Yeah. Got in last week. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me around here now, helping with the farm and the kids.” Grant turned a hand to the cousin. “Mornin’, Ronnie.”

  Ronnie gave him a quick nod, almost not offering a handshake until he glanced around, probably thinking about appearances.

  Kallie reached for Ainsley, then scrunched her nose. “Oops. Seems like she needs a diaper change before we go. Excuse me.” She slipped out of the pew, leaving Grant with the guys.

  He sent Peter a smile and a wave, the boy giggling in return from his seat.

  “So, you leave suddenly, and then Kallie lets you come back?”

  There was the question he’d been expecting. “I own part of the farm now, since Frank passed away.”

  “Oh.” Brendan glanced at his cousin, who mirrored his face as his brows arched high. “Seems strange. You getting part of the farm.”

  “Hey now.” Grant frowned. “I’m not about to discuss what Frank’s intentions were. I’m simply honoring the man’s wishes.”

  “And stepping into Kallie’s family.”

  He knew Millard didn’t like him, but that was apparently an understatement.

  Before he could answer, Kallie was standing beside him. “And he’s been a huge help.”

  Grant wanted to shoot her a glance, but he kept his eyes fixed on Brendan. Was she sticking up for him?

  Brendan lifted a brow. “Is he?”

  “I just offer help where I can. But Kallie’s a great mom. She doesn’t need anyone’s help. She’s fully capable. I’m just here for support and getting to know my kids.”

  “We’d better go,” Kallie added. “The kids are going to get hungry if we wait too long.”

  “Right you are.” He lifted his cowboy hat from the pew and placed it on his head. “See you around, folks.”

  “Bye.” Kallie tossed their visitors a smile before turning it on Grant. Was it just him or did her eyes soften when she looked at him? They shuffled out of the pew, each with a car seat carrier in tow. Once they reached the church entryway, she turned to him. “I got Rachel to watch the kids for us tonight—during the party.”

  He brightened and leaned a palm on the door handle to let Kallie outside. “Great. We’ll drop them off on the way.”

  As she exited the church, she suddenly stopped and he nearly bumped into her. She faced him, her eyes looking soft again. “Thank you for what you said to Brendan. About me, and about Dad.”

  “You heard even the part about your dad?”

  “Ainsley’s diaper emergency ended up being a false alarm. I was on my way back.”

  Chuckling, Grant followed her out into the sunlight. It was turning out to be a hot one—which was good, because that probably meant the temperature would linger into the evening some, keeping Maxwell Thornton’s outdoor party comfortable. He hadn’t been particularly interested in the get-together when the guy first mentioned it, but after he said Grant
could bring someone along, it had given him the idea to invite Kallie. She was doing an excellent job of taking care of the kids, but he continued to think about the fact that no one took care of her, too.

  This was his way of helping out. If it gave her a moment to relax, then he’d be happy. If it helped them become equals—maybe even friends—he’d be more than happy.

  * * *

  “Okay.” Kallie reviewed the numbers on the paperwork in her lap. “I’ve depleted Dad’s savings and posted a few things for sale online. Then there’s the garden that’ll start producing later this summer, and any baking I can get done—”

  “Yes. Pies. You should definitely make more of those and sell them. But maybe keep a few at home for me.” Grant gave her a wink before returning his focus to the road.

  She laughed. “Okay, we’ll see what I have time for. Any other ideas?” She scratched her head as they entered Bitter Creek. “Maybe I should get a part-time job. One I can work from home.”

  “What? No.” Grant’s eyes met hers. “You’re busy enough as it is with the farm and the kids.”

  “But the money—”

  “We’ll find it another way, don’t worry.”

  She sent him a look and he must have been able to interpret it.

  “Look, Kal. I watched my mom work two, sometimes three jobs to make ends meet because my dad couldn’t hold down even one. If anyone has to get a second job, it’ll be me. You’ve already got a lot on your plate.”

  She did. There was no denying it even though she wanted to.

  Evening light cast a soft glow over the prairie landscape, and an exhilarating thrill skittered over her. Not that this was a date, but it sort of resembled one, and she hadn’t been on one in years.

  “Also,” he added, “I have a little savings I can dip into.”

  Thoughts of a date skidded to a halt. “No, Grant, really. I can’t let you do that—”

  “You can if you want to keep the farm. Besides, this is my home, too, now, remember? And the kids’ inheritance one day.”