Читать книгу: «Her Secret Twins», страница 2
Kallie looked into his eyes. She nodded, and even though that was the answer he’d expected, something in Grant’s world still knocked sideways.
Who…?
No, he couldn’t ask that question out loud. It was brash. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Didn’t keep his mind from scrolling through the possibilities. There weren’t many—Kallie hadn’t dated anyone before Grant. Someone new must have come to town.
Oh. Except for Brendan Millard.
Grant clenched his jaw and lowered himself onto the sofa, the same one he’d used when he’d worked here, and Frank would encourage him to take a quick nap after lunch before returning to the tractor.
Brendan Millard’s parents ran the neighboring farm, and he’d grown up with Kallie. From the beginning, he hadn’t been a fan of Grant, who’d moved to Bitter Creek in high school and was a grade older than both of them. Grant suspected, though, it was because Brendan’s feelings for her ran deeper than friendship.
Grant rubbed at his temple and then down his shadowed jaw. The kids had to be Brendan’s. She would have told Grant if they were his.
Right?
“This is Peter,” Kallie said, her voice soft, bringing Grant’s thoughts around. “And this is Ainsley. Peter’s older by nine minutes, but Ainsley acts like she’s in charge.”
Peter threw a burp cloth over his head, and giggling a silvery laugh, Ainsley joyously yanked it off, causing them both to squeal.
Grant couldn’t help but smile a little. “They’re cute.”
“Thanks.”
Watching, Grant felt pummeled. Kallie had always insisted Brendan was just a friend, but what if that hadn’t been the case? Had he stepped in after Grant left? It would make sense. Brendan loved to farm. And he had a bunch of siblings. He was built for family.
Two things that weren’t in Grant’s blood—no matter how hard he’d searched for them years ago, when his relationship with Kallie had depended on it.
But where was Brendan now?
“We should feed the dogs,” Kallie said suddenly, rising to her feet, Ainsley in her arms. “I’ll grab the stroller from the truck bed if you don’t mind bringing Peter.”
“Oh. Sure.” He scooped up the little boy, so light he worried about squashing him. Relax, Young. He’s not a newborn pup.
He followed Kallie outside, heading for her truck parked in the turnaround. “I’m surprised Peter’s doing as well as he is, since he doesn’t know you,” she said over her shoulder.
“Why? Is he generally shy?” And why had she asked him to carry the child if she knew that about him? Grant looked at Peter in his arms, but the boy only squinted in the sun, distracted by the outdoors.
“Generally.” Kallie placed Ainsley on the grass so she could open the tailgate and pull out a folded double-wide stroller. “He loves people, but he has to warm up first.”
Ainsley quickly approached the stroller, seemingly recognizing it. Kallie unfolded it and lifted her daughter into one of the seats, then buckled her in. Grant brought Peter over and followed suit, albeit awkwardly.
“Do they like this thing?”
“They love it. I do, too.”
“Is it hard to maneuver around here?”
“Actually, it’s easy.” She checked the stroller’s visors so the sun wasn’t in the kids’ eyes, then pushed the stroller across the turnaround. “It’s a sport utility stroller, so the tires are really nice. We use it all the time.”
The kids kicked their legs and pointed out scenery as they rumbled over the gravel and dirt.
As they approached the barn, a Llewellin skittered out of the shadows and loped toward them.
“Hey, Chief.” Grant kept up with Kallie and the stroller, though a couple of yards to her right. “You remember Chief, right?” He motioned to the bird dog as Chief’s nose tugged him toward a stand of scrub oaks.
“I do. Took me a moment. He’s from the same litter as Ruby, I think.”
“Yep.” Grant slid his hands deep into his pockets, gravel scraping beneath his boots. When he’d worked here just out of high school, Frank held summer camps for training bird dogs, and in the winter, he guided hunters. The South Dakota prairie teemed with pheasants and grouse. One winter, some hunters had sold Frank a pair of Llewellins, and Grant had purchased Chief from their first litter.
He led the way into the barn where the dog food was kept, and Kallie followed, Chief slipping in between them.
“Do you remember where we keep the food?”
Instead of answering, he simply took keys from a nail on the wall and unlocked a cabinet beneath the worktable. Then he pulled out the tub of food.
Chief ran the length of the barn, joining Bella, his second setter who was too busy checking out all the new smells to acknowledge their presence.
“Did you get your other dog from your shelter?”
“Yep. That’s Bella. She’s gun-shy, but we do well together.”
He called her over and Bella approached with obvious fondness. Depositing the keys on the worktable, he knelt and buried his fingers in the tri-colored hair behind her ears. Bella closed her eyes and tilted her head toward him. Then he scooped food into a dish, and at the sound of food hitting metal, Chief was hot on Bella’s trail, looking for his own supper. Grant fed him, too.
“A previous handler spooked her while hunting. An all-too-common problem with our shelter dogs, I’m afraid.”
“Do you like working at the rescue facility?”
“I do. It’s fulfilling to witness so many success stories, you know?” He dropped some food in a bowl for Ruby. “We have it set up where setters are taken into foster homes for a while before they can be adopted. This helps us evaluate their true nature in a home environment. Plus, it gives them the comfort of a home while they wait for a permanent family.”
“Is that how you found Bella? Did you foster her?”
“Yep. And once I looked into her big eyes, I was a goner.”
Much like Kallie. He’d known she was special the moment he saw her.
Clearing his throat, Grant turned away and locked the dog food back in the cupboard, where it was safe from raccoons who sometimes explored the barn at night.
Call him soft but he had a love for the setters who needed extra understanding and attention. He’d found that passion while working here at Bitter Creek Farm, and when he’d gotten involved in Iowa training them and running the rescue facility, he’d realized he enjoyed caring for someone other than himself.
It had awakened an instinct he’d never thought possible.
The truth ricocheted down through his core as he straightened, letting the dogs eat. Because he feared becoming like his dad, he’d never wanted kids. And when he and Kallie had gotten carried away one night, the reality of marriage and the possibility of fatherhood had hit him hard.
That night had woken him up, made him believe that he couldn’t be what Kallie deserved.
But now…
He glanced at Kallie and her kids, at the life he could have had if only he’d had the courage. All of this could have been his—this simple life, with their own family to come home to rather than an empty apartment. But he’d missed that opportunity, and someone else had taken his place.
He only had himself to blame.
Chapter Two
“Thanks for letting me stick around for supper, Kallie.”
“No problem.”
Though honestly, Kallie didn’t feel as nonchalant as her answer indicated. Ever since Grant had arrived, she’d been flooded with guilt. Back when he left, she’d felt justified in keeping the kids a secret. He’d wanted to forget farm life and train dogs. Wasn’t interested in being a dad or a husband. Not to mention the teensy-tiny detail that he’d flat out left her barely a month after proposing.
She still worried that he wouldn’t care. That he’d shrug the kids off. So, she’d held her tongue through supper preparation and getting the kids into their high chairs. To keep her mind busy, she worked with her hands—grabbed various pots and bowls of food from the counter to bring them to the table.
Grant watched her from his chair. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No, I’m almost done.” The tasks didn’t need to be completed any faster than they already were.
Peter and Ainsley sat in matching high chairs beside her place setting. Cooked mashed peas littered their trays, and thankfully, they ate in pure delight—judging by their screeching and their attempts to share the peas across their trays.
More landed on the floor between them than anywhere else, which Ruby appreciated.
The oven timer beeped, so Kallie bent and pulled out the chicken potpie, the center boiling through a cracked edge of crust. She’d used the chicken from her slow cooker, thinking with Grant staying that the meal needed to be heartier than she’d originally planned. She set it in the middle of everything else like a centerpiece at a Thanksgiving feast.
She finally sat, and Grant said a prayer. And after saying “Amen,” she silently added another prayer for strength and wisdom. In high school and while she dated Grant, she hadn’t been very faithful in her spiritual life. But since the kids were born, and especially in recent months, she’d learned a lot about God’s everlasting goodness. And drawing from the deep well of His love comforted her like nothing else ever had. If anyone could help her know how to handle this situation, it would be Him.
“All this food for just us?” Grant eyed the smorgasbord. “You know my stomach’s shrank since I stopped working on the farm.”
A tiny smile tugged on her lips before she stuffed it away. She’d spent some of her nervous energy on cooking, and yep, one look around the table and she knew she’d gone a tad overboard.
She dished more peas onto her plate to squish with her fork for the kids. “Dig in.”
Apparently she didn’t need to tell him twice. He took a long swig of his ice water and helped himself to a steaming biscuit to slather with butter and honey.
“So, I’ve been thinking. Have you thought about hiring a farm hand for the summer?” He spooned potpie onto his plate. “Come July, it’ll be way too hot to cart the kids everywhere for hours on end.”
Free advice often fell flat, and this was no exception. Kallie didn’t look up from distributing more peas to the kids. “We have air conditioning in the work truck.”
“That old thing? You can’t rely on it working when the temps hit over one hundred.”
“We did last year when Dad was sick.”
“Well, last year you didn’t have a choice. But no kids should ride around the farm in that old beater, not in the middle of summer.”
She stared at him. “The truck is fine, Grant.”
“You say that now. Wait until it’s noon, and you break down in the middle of a pasture. It could become a bad situation very fast.”
“Enough, okay?”
She gritted her teeth to not say any more. He couldn’t just leave her one day and then waltz back into her life two years later giving orders. She left the table for more milk from the fridge. While she refilled Ainsley’s and Peter’s sippy cups, heavy silence weighed her down. This was going to be even harder than she’d thought.
“Sorry, Kal.”
Kallie turned from the counter, sippy cups in hand. “What?”
He ran his hand over his brow, then down his face. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, so I’m just on edge. The last few months have been brutal. A fire destroyed Helping Hands Kennel, the rescue I run.”
Kallie’s eyes widened, her skepticism falling away as she sank into her chair. “Oh, that’s horrible. Where are all the dogs?”
“Some are still with their foster families. But some families pulled out. Those dogs are at a friend’s animal sanctuary outside Waterloo, the next city over. I’ll get them back once I have a facility again.” He exhaled. “We have nineteen Llewellins and English setters waiting for permanent homes right now. Nineteen. And the adoption process is slower when we’re working out of a makeshift facility.”
“That’s a lot of dogs. How will the facility make a difference if your policy is for dogs to stay with foster families?”
“Well, I can’t take on new dogs until we have places to foster them. But I’ve called around, and I keep getting the same answer from potential foster families—they don’t see us as a legitimate business. I mean, I can’t blame them. You should see the run-down office we’re using right now. We need a bit more professionalism before people will take us seriously.” He sighed. “I’m hitting some snags getting the new facility up and running.”
Peter tossed his spoon. Kallie bent to retrieve it. “What kind of snags? Can’t you simply rebuild?”
“I guess not. My board of directors wants to meet before they’ll allow the funding to be used for the facility. My contact at the board said they’ve got some stipulations they’re looking into.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what that means, and so far, my contact hasn’t returned my latest email. I’ll have to call tomorrow on my way to Wyoming.”
He returned to his meal. Kallie put the spoon back on Peter’s tray.
Ainsley squawked and pounded her tray, out of food. Kallie dumped some more peas in front of her, feeling Grant’s eyes on her. Peter called out for more peas, too.
“Can’t I help you with anything?”
Ainsley dropped her sippy cup, and Kallie bent over.
The cup touched Grant’s foot. He stooped over and grabbed it. Kallie sat up in her chair again, stretching out her hand over the table to get it back.
Grant eyed both kids, and the nerves piled up inside her as she set Ainsley’s drink on her tray. This charade was pointless—he was bound to figure things out and she’d been stupid to hide it from him.
“How’s Brendan Millard these days?”
Blinking, Kallie frowned. “What? Fine, I guess.”
Peter tossed his empty cup and cried for more.
“What’s he up to?”
Kallie disappeared beneath the table. “Running his farm, like everyone else around here.” She snatched Peter’s cup and stood to refill it.
“He’s not hanging around here?”
“Why would he?”
“I just figured he’d be available for you and the kids.”
Ainsley cried out, out of peas again.
“Here.” Grant pushed his chair back. “Let me help.”
“No, you’re a guest. Sit down.” Kallie shoveled peas onto the tray. But Ainsley waved her arms, batting away Kallie’s spoon, sending her cup over the edge again.
She gasped as the lid came off, spilling milk across the floor.
Grant popped up from his seat.
“I’ve got it.” Kallie darted for the paper towel roll on the counter, but he snatched it first. He swooped in on the milk spreading over the linoleum.
She knelt beside him. “Let me do it.”
“I can handle a spill…”
“But—”
“Go eat. You’ve hardly touched your food.”
“No. I’m going to do it.” She snatched the paper roll from him. “Now tell me why Brendan Millard would be here for me and the kids?”
“Aren’t these his kids?”
“No, Grant.”
Freezing, he raised his gaze to meet hers. “Then whose are they?”
Her eyes widened. Did he honestly have no idea? She took a couple of deep breaths, then stood. She set Ainsley’s sippy cup on the table with a distinct tap and turned to the counter, tugging saran wrap off a pan of dessert. “Brownie?”
“Kal.”
He wasn’t playing around. Turning, she met his dark eyes and willed herself not to flinch. Time for the truth. “They’re yours.”
“Grant, stop.”
The screen door shut behind him as Grant stalked down the steps. He needed air.
Returning to Bitter Creek Farm had already been hard, dredging up memories of training setters with Frank and learning about life. Falling in love with Kallie—hard and fast. But this? Finding out he’d been a father all this time? That was harder still.
“Grant.” Kallie followed him outside. “Let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain? I understand what’s going on here. You lied to me about everything. That about covers it, right?”
“Please.”
He paused to face her, spying her on the porch—slip-on shoes, breeze tossing her long blond hair. Her slender wrists and fingers. The freckles dotting her bare shoulders. He distinctly remembered touching those shoulders as they danced in the moonlight together…
That night when their perfect world had completely ruptured.
“I wanted to tell you so many times. But—”
“But what? The timing never felt right?”
“No.”
“Why’d you keep them a secret, Kallie?”
Her gaze turned steely, arms crossing over her middle. “Why’d you leave me a month after asking me to marry you?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell you.” Her eyes misted over. “You left me. And you did not want kids. I didn’t know what to do.”
Twins. The news still shook through him. He’d seen the kids, the color of their hair, but he’d reasoned away any chance they could’ve been his. Kallie’s gaze pleaded with him to understand, but it was a whole lot of information to take in at once.
“I did do that. And I’m very sorry. But you should have told me. I still have my same phone, or you could have called Jill—”
“I don’t know. I guess I figured you were better off not knowing.”
“That’s the problem, Kallie. You decided this important thing for me. You can’t do that. You can’t control everything. I had a right to know.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and he fell silent. Was she just now feeling bad about all of this or had she tormented herself for years? He closed his eyes against the regret shuddering through his chest. Regret over their past mistakes and the mistake he was making now. No matter what she’d done to him, he didn’t need to belittle her.
The way she stood there, hand nervously gripping her opposite bicep, she looked exactly the same as when he left years ago. Alone and scared. Needing him as he walked away.
He was guilty of hurting her, too.
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. One little statement: They’re yours. Suddenly, his life would never be the same. His mind swirled with hurt, with anger, with questions. But one thing he knew for sure. Those kids needed a dad. Grant had one physically, but not actively. He was scared to death of repeating the man’s mistakes.
In fact, he’d already started. He’d been absent for their entire lives. But not anymore.
He headed for his pickup.
She followed him. “Where are you going?”
“To find some cell service to call my hotel.”
“Why?”
“To cancel my reservation.”
He heard her feet skid to a halt on the gravel. “You’re leaving already? You’re mad that I didn’t tell you about the kids and yet you’re already leaving?”
“Hardly.” He hopped into his truck and shut the door, staring down at her through the half-rolled window. “Just the opposite. I’m coming out to the farm.”
Her brows shot up. “I don’t think so. You’re not staying here.”
“You’re right, I’m not. I’ll be in the employee cottage.”
She stared at him.
“What? It’s still standing, right?”
“Yeah, it’s still standing. But it needs work. I don’t think you want to stay there.”
“There you go making decisions for me again,” he said. “I’m not worried about the work. Just want to be close to my kids.” He stuck his key in the ignition and turned it, revving his engine to life. “See ya in a few.”
Kallie didn’t look happy, but she’d just have to be okay with it. Starting today, she was going to see a whole lot more of Grant Young. He wouldn’t let his kids grow up like he had—without a relationship with their dad.
The white broken line down Interstate 90 stretched to the horizon. Grant hadn’t expected to see this section of South Dakota prairie again so soon. But when you had to drive to the next exit in order to find a cell signal, that’s what you did.
Once he sat on the side of the road, just after the off ramp, he called the hotel and canceled his reservation. Then he called the hosts of every clinic he’d planned to give this summer to cancel until further notice. Until he could figure out what was going on in his life.
Even with his phone calls completed, though, he wasn’t ready to go back to the farm. Not just yet. He still needed to process this new load of information for a few more minutes. He wound up calling his sister, Jill.
“Well, that’s just about the craziest news I think I’ve ever heard,” Jill said.
“Yeah.” Grant ran his finger along the edge of his pickup’s radio, wiping away dust that had collected there since he’d last detailed this old thing. “I’m still stunned.”
“Me, too. And I’m just your sister. I can’t imagine how you feel.” She paused. “So, I’m not trying to be rude here—but are you sure they’re yours?”
Grant shrugged, even though he knew no one could see him except the rolling prairie out his open window. “They have brown eyes and brown wavy hair. The more I think about it, the more I’m realizing Peter looks a lot like me in that picture of us. You know, the one that used to hang in Mom and Dad’s hall.”
“Are you going to get a paternity test?”
His brows scrunched. “Do I need to?”
“I would.”
“Why would Kallie tell me they’re mine if they aren’t? She doesn’t accept help from me, and she clearly doesn’t want me here. The only reason I even found out is because Frank left me in his will.”
Which certainly made him wonder. He’d been added as a beneficiary when he and Kallie got engaged, but he figured with their breakup he’d been taken off—like normal ex-fiancés. Had it slipped Frank’s mind or had he left Grant in the will on purpose, so he’d learn about the kids one way or another?
Reality hit him hard and heavy. “What rights do I even have to them anyway? We’re not married. I know they’re mine, but I’ve been absent all of their life. They know and trust Kallie, and that’s it.”
“Not knowing about them isn’t entirely your fault, though. She should have told you,” Jill said. “Listen, I was talking with a friend of mine here in Norfolk, who’s going through something kind of like this, and he said fathers have rights, too. You’ll have to check South Dakota laws, but I think all you have to do is establish you’re their biological father. Then you’ll have all the rights and responsibilities of a parent.”
His sister, hairstylist-turned-lawyer all of a sudden. “Like child support and visitation?”
“Yeah, and like, custody.”
Custody. Wow, this was getting real. And fast.
He exhaled. Turned his gaze to the setting sun. “This is a lot to process, Jill.”
“I’m sure it is.” Jill paused. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t let Kallie push you out of their lives again, okay? You’ve already lost precious time you can’t get back. Make the most of the time you have now.”
Grant exhaled. “That’s my plan.”
“Okay. Hey, Grant?” Jill’s voice softened. “Congratulations. I’m excited to meet them. I’m sure Mom will be, too.”
A smile slid up Grant’s face. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
When he hung up, he started his pickup. Jill was right. Kallie had already denied him access to important milestones. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
He didn’t know all the details yet, but as surely as he drove back to Bitter Creek Farm, he was bound and determined to never let Peter and Ainsley go.
After finishing supper and bathing the children, Kallie strapped Peter and Ainsley into the stroller and trekked down to the cottage.
As she’d expected, she found Grant’s truck parked out front, and Chief sitting on the front porch, soaking up the sun and taking in the change of scenery. He ran to greet them as they neared, and Kallie gave him a few quick rubs behind the ear.
Peter squealed and pointed at Chief, and Kallie managed a smile. Her kids held a wonder for the world that she’d lost in recent years. What would it be like to feel that way about life again?
The door to the cottage swung open, Grant leaning on the doorframe. Bella scurried over after him, greeting the kids and Kallie. “Well, hey there, neighbor,” Grant said with a wink. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
The smile slid off Kallie’s face. Just how long was he planning on staying?
But her lack of enthusiasm didn’t seem to faze him. “Come in.” He approached the stroller. “Hey, bud.” He unstrapped Peter and lifted him into his arms.
But Peter squirmed and reached out for Kallie, trying to wriggle from Grant’s grip.
“Like I said, he’s pretty shy around strangers.”
Grant bounced Peter a little, probably in an attempt to cheer him up. “We won’t be strangers for long.” He turned and headed into the house, calling for Chief and Bella to follow him. Kallie stifled a sigh as she unstrapped Ainsley and followed. Stopping by the cottage was probably the wrong thing to do, but if she hid from whatever issue was building between her and Grant, then it would grow and grow. Much better to nip it in the bud right now, rather than let it get out of control.
You can’t control everything…
She didn’t want to think about Grant’s words, so instead, she stepped inside and focused on the cottage’s aged surroundings.
“I think this place will work well.” Grant glanced back at her before surveying the room. “Though I might need to borrow some sheets until my online order gets here.”
Online order? What did Grant Young think he was doing—moving in?
Looking around, she suddenly felt weary. The last time anyone stayed here was about a year ago—an employee working for Dad about a year after Grant left. The man had only stuck around for a few months before going someplace warmer. Texas or Oklahoma, she couldn’t remember. Though a few months had apparently been long enough to put a hole through the wall, destroy some window blinds beyond repair, chip the counter and knock the screen door off its hinges.
Rachel had watched the kids so Kallie could at least surface clean this place after the employee left, but that’s as far as she’d gotten. And unfortunately, by then, she’d been the only one who could’ve worked on the cottage because Dad wasn’t able-bodied. She could have hired someone to help, but that had just been too much to deal with at the time.
No way could she handle a list of repairs right now just because Grant had decided he didn’t want to stay in town.
Then again, she reminded herself she didn’t need to repair things right now, because Grant wasn’t going to be here that long. Obviously longer than she’d thought, but not for forever.
Grant shifted Peter higher in his arms, but the poor boy wasn’t interested in staying with him. Grant set him on the floor and let him toddle into the living room. Kallie wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t had a chance to clean that carpet.”
“He should be fine, right?”
She eyed Grant, not amused. He seemed to get the message and picked Peter up again. They moved out to the porch and let the kids down to look around. A faint breeze whispered in the cottonwoods nearby, intermingling with the distant song of sparrows and finches. Kallie longed to relax into it, but how could she when Grant rattled her?
“So…” Breaking the silence, his voice came quietly as they stared over the expanse of prairie and trees. “When’s their birthday?”
“May third,” she said.
“What are their full names?”
“Peter Allen and Ainsley Elise.”
“When did they take their first steps?”
Her heart began to tug. “Eleven months.”
“First words?” His voice sounded gravelly this time, and a burn started behind Kallie’s eyes.
“Ainsley says ‘Mama,’ but Peter hasn’t said anything discernible yet.”
“Well, soon, they’ll learn ‘Daddy,’ too.”
Kallie closed her eyes. “It takes a while for them to learn new words at this stage, Grant.”
“I don’t mind.”
“How long are you planning to stay, exactly?”
“Oh, I’m not leaving.” He matched her stare. “I just found out I’m a dad to twins. You couldn’t drag me out of here with a crowbar and a winch.” He turned to face her full on. “And another thing. I’ve decided to keep my half of the inheritance. I’m planning to pay child support, and I’m getting a paternity test and seeking joint custody.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
Fear rippled through her, the surety of his list shaking her foundation. Everything she knew was changing so fast. Too fast. Turning on her heel, she scooped up the children, then marched down the porch steps and deposited them inside the stroller.
Her hands shook as she tried to secure their harnesses. Grant’s boot falls sounded behind her.
“You can’t hide from this, Kal.” This time, his voice was soft yet firm. “We’re going to have to talk about things like custody at some point.”
She whirled toward him. “Don’t you dare take my children away from me!”
His gaze narrowed. “They’re our children, and who said anything about taking them away? I’m staying right here on the farm, remember?”
Yes, she remembered. But how long until his wanderlust got the better of him and he decided to take off? He was only here for the kids, not for her. There was nothing keeping him on the farm. “What about your job in Iowa? I thought you loved it.”
“I do.” He shrugged. “I’ll try working it from here for a while, see what happens. I’ll figure something out.” His sobering gaze met hers. “I’m not taking them out of your life. It’s not right for them to grow up without a dad, but it’s also not right to be without a mom. We need to be serious about coparenting and somehow making this family thing work.”
Family? Kallie’s mouth ran dry. How could they possibly become something like that?
“Okay, Kal? You’re going to have to trust me on this.”
What could she say? Nothing made sense in her jostled thoughts. She said good-night and pushed the kids back toward her house. Because the truth was, she had trusted him to stick around—after he’d asked her to marry him. He’d broken that trust. And with it, her heart.
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