LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Cade!” Abby’s eyes widened. “God doesn’t have whims. He has plans to prosper us and not to harm us.” A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I keep repeating that to myself when these little ones kick me in the ribs.”

      “Do you need help with that? I mean, uh, someone to be there with you when—it, the babies come?” The personal questions seemed too intrusive. He and Abby were little more than strangers. The only thing they’d had in common was their love for Max.

      Anyway, Cade had his hands full with the ranch and his father. He barely had a moment to call his own. Still, he wasn’t going to leave her like this. He needed to help her, somehow.

      “I’m fine, really.” Abby turned again to look once more at Max’s grave. She sighed so deeply it seemed to sap all her energy. “I should get home. There’s supposed to be a storm tonight.”

      “I didn’t see your car.” Cade glanced around. “Where’s it parked? I’ll drive you to it.”

      “I sold my car a while ago, when I couldn’t fit behind the wheel anymore. I came here on the bus.” Her chin thrust up when he blinked at her in shock.

      “But there aren’t any buses that come all the way out here! You must have walked miles.” He knew he was right when her green eyes suddenly swerved away from his. A spurt of anger bubbled inside him. “Should you be doing that, in your condition?”

      “I’m pregnant, not disabled,” Abby said, her tone firm. “It’s good for me to walk.”

      “But it’s so far and it’s cold out.” Cade clamped his lips together to stem his words when she shrank against the truck door. Arguing with her wouldn’t help. “You have to take care of yourself, Abby,” he said in softer tones. “Max would want that.”

      “I’m fine, Cade. Truly. I just got a little chilled sitting there in the snow.” She laid her fingers on his arm and held them there until he looked at her. When she drew them away he felt somehow bereft. “I’m warm now. If you could drop me at the bus stop I’d appreciate it.” Her heart-shaped face with its dark widow’s peak looked forlorn.

      Cade’s heart, hard and frozen cold inside him since Max’s death, thawed just the tiniest bit. He’d lost his best friend, but she had lost her husband, her life, her future.

      “I’m not leaving you at a bus stop, Abby. I’ll take you home.”

      “Oh.” She let out a pent-up breath, probably in relief. “Okay. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” Taken aback by her lack of argument, he pulled into the circular road that took them out of the cemetery and back into the city. Before turning onto the main freeway, he paused. “I don’t remember your address,” he admitted in embarrassment.

      “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” There was nothing in her tone to accuse him but Cade felt guilty anyway. “It will be easier if I direct you,” she murmured. And she did.

      By the time Cade pulled up in front of her tiny white bungalow, the afternoon sky glowered a dark, burgeoning gray. Snowflakes seemed imminent. The sidewalk to the front door had been shoveled clear, but there was nothing else to show that anyone lived here, no welcoming light on the front porch, no snowman lovingly created on the snow-covered front lawn, no leftover Christmas decorations waiting for removal. The place looked as forlorn as Abby.

      “Stay put until I come around and help you out,” he ordered. “It’s icy. I don’t want you to fall.”

      “Wait!” Abby grabbed his arm, her fingers tight, forcing him to pause. “I can manage. There’s no need for you to fuss, Cade,” she said in an almost desperate tone.

      “I insist.” He held her stormy gaze with his, refusing to back down.

      “Fine,” she finally conceded. “You can help me to the door if you must.” Her green eyes narrowed. “But that’s all. I’m sure you have things to do. You don’t have to babysit me and I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have. Just to the door,” she repeated.

      During his five-year stint in the military, Cade had risen up the ranks of the Canadian Special Forces unit quickly. Much of that was due to internal radar that told him when things weren’t right. At the moment his personal detection system was on high alert. Something was definitely wrong with Abby. Her body was tight with tension. Clearly she did not want him inside her home.

      Why? Though Cade was loath to cause her more stress, he owed it to Max to find out.

      It felt good to lift Abby out of the truck and support her over the slippery sidewalk to the front door. As he did, Cade considered and discarded a hundred reasons she might not want him here but found nothing that would explain her oddly unwelcoming manner. He waited as she fished in her pocket for her key, wondering if she’d change her mind about him coming in. But she did not open the door. Instead she turned to face him, blocking the entry.

      “Thank you for your help, Cade. I appreciate you remembering Max today. And I really want to thank you for the ride home.” A tiny smile danced across her lips. “I was tired.”

      Cade didn’t move. Abby’s eyebrow arched.

      “I can’t leave until I make sure you get safely inside.” Though she tossed him a frustrated look, Cade didn’t budge. “Want me to open the door for you?”

      “No, I don’t. Thank you.” Her green eyes blazed at him for a few seconds more. Then with a harrumph that expressed everything from exasperation to frustration, Abby stabbed the key into the lock and twisted it. “See? Everything is fine. I’m fine. Thank you.”

      Cade had never felt less certain that everything was fine. Maybe it was rude and pushy, but this was necessary. He reached past her and twisted the door handle while he nudged his booted toe against the door. Abby made a squeak of protest and grabbed for the doorknob. But it was too late.

      “Abby?” He let his gaze travel twice around the empty interior before returning to her face. “Where’s your furniture? Where’s...anything?”

      “I’m—er—moving,” she stammered. With a sigh she stepped inside and urged him in, too, before shutting out the cold air. “This place is too big for me. I’m moving out today.” Her chin thrust upward. Her voice grew defensive. “I’ve decided to make some changes.”

      “Now?” Cade gaped at her in disbelief. “Three months before your due date?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe that. What’s really going on, Abby?”

      She turned away from him to remove her coat and toss it over a packing box. He wondered why, since the room was quite chilly. Confused and troubled, he waited for her answer, stunned when her narrow shoulders began to tremble. Her muffled sob broke the silence and made him feel like a bully.

      “You need to sit down and relax,” he said with concern. But where could she sit? There was no furniture, nothing but a derelict wooden chair that looked as if the slightest whoosh of air would send it toppling over.

      “I’m fine,” she whispered. But she wasn’t and they both knew it.

      With his gut chiding him for not getting here sooner, and at a loss to know what to do now that he was, Cade gently laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

      “I just want to help, Abby. Please, tell me how.” He waited. When she didn’t respond he softened his voice. “I couldn’t help Max,” he murmured, his breath catching on the name. “I will always regret that. Please let me help you.”

      Abby edged away from him, moved behind the kitchen counter and leaned one hip against it. In that moment her mask of control slid away and he saw fear vie with sadness.

      “I’ve lost the house,” she whispered. “Our dear little house, the one Max and I bought together, the one we had such dreams for—I’ve lost it.”

      “Lost

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