A family for the holidays...

Her Rocky Mountain Haven Christmas wish

A former foster child herself, Adele Parker’s committed to adopting twin preschoolers Francie and Franklyn—even if she does it alone. But being home at The Haven for the holidays means reuniting with handsome childhood friend Mac McDowell. And as they work together to create a new trail-riding program, Adele begins to wish her growing family could include the wounded military hero, too...

LOIS RICHER loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, loisricher@gmail.com, or on Facebook (loisricherauthor).

Also By Lois Richer

Rocky Mountain Haven

Meant-to-Be Baby

Mistletoe Twins

Wranglers Ranch

The Rancher’s Family Wish

Her Christmas Family Wish

The Cowboy’s Easter Family Wish

The Twins’ Family Wish

Family Ties

A Dad for Her Twins

Rancher Daddy

Gift-Wrapped Family

Accidental Dad

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Mistletoe Twins

Lois Richer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08647-9

MISTLETOE TWINS

© 2018 Lois M. Richer

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“Love costs too much. I want

no part of it.”

“Adele, love has given you so much,” Mac countered, hating to see her so distraught. He brushed his hand against her cheek before quietly continuing, “You and your foster sisters have two aunts that adore you. And you have each other to lean on.”

“True,” she agreed solemnly, her gaze holding his.

“But?” Mac hated that she couldn’t seem to break free of her past.

“This sounds a little schoolgirlish, but I’ve always longed to have somebody who loved me enough that I never doubted it.”

“I don’t count?” Mac arched his brows.

“You were my best friend, Mac, and that counts for a lot. But you never loved me,” she said. “Not romantically. We’re just friends.”

“Just friends.” His mouth turned down. “Friendship’s not enough now?”

“It’s a great deal, Mac, and I will always treasure it.” Her hand closed around his and squeezed it. “But my escape from the past was always a dream about a fairy-tale love that would override my past.” She withdrew her hand. “Hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to The Haven, a refuge hidden in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies where foster kids come to find hope.

I hope you’ve enjoyed Adele Parker’s journey toward motherhood and love as she learns that God doesn’t expect perfection. He expects our trust. After Mac lost his hand in an airplane crash he caused, his struggle to learn God’s plan for his future got tied up with guilt. Mac doesn’t get a list of “next steps” from God, but he, like Adele, learns that if he keeps seeking God’s will, Our Father will point the way. As they travel that path, best friends Mac and Adele realize that friendship has changed to love.

I hope you’ll visit The Haven again to read how grief and loss bring Olivia joy and love.

Until we meet again may you find abundant faith, infinite peace and the love that comes from God.

Blessings,

Lois Richer

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose.

—Romans 8:28

This book is dedicated to my mom,

who always believed God had an answer

for whatever problems came her way.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes. This is The Haven.” Adele Parker pulled up in front of the big stone house set in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies and heaved a sigh of pure happiness. “We’re home.”

“Can we get out now?” In the back seat Francie nudged her brother, Franklyn, awake. “I’m tired of riding in this car.”

“Me, too,” agreed her four-year-old twin, with a yawn. “Tired.”

“It was a long drive from Edmonton.” Adele twisted to smile at the pair, treasuring the way their little faces came alive with interest at their first view of this place she loved. “Let’s get out but zip your jackets first. The mountain winds will be chilly.” Not wanting to arrive home disheveled, she checked her makeup, patted her curls, then thrust her arms into her own coat before exiting the car.

“Hey, where’s the snow?” Francie looked around, obviously disappointed.

“An’ where’s the ski hill you tole us ’bout?” Franklyn frowned. “This is a desert, like in that story you read us.”

“Franklyn, that’s not true,” Adele scolded. “Deserts don’t have all those green spruce trees, do they? Anyway, it’s barely October. It’s not time for winter yet. But don’t worry, snow will come.” She smothered a chuckle at their glum looks, then hunkered down beside Franklyn and pointed north. “The ski slopes at Jasper are about an hour away. In those mountains. Maybe we’ll go there one day, hmm?”

“Okay.” Usually biddable, Franklyn assessed The Haven. “It’s a very big house. And it is, too, made of stone. Francie said it wasn’t,” he confided to Adele.

“I won’t ever lie to you, Franklyn.” A thrill whispered through Adele at the trust in his dark eyes. Trust in her.

“It’s kinda like the castle in Beauty and the Beast.” Francie leaned back so far Adele worried she’d topple backwards. “Is it cold in there, Delly?” Their nickname for Adele brought back fond memories of her own youth at The Haven.

“No. It’s warm and friendly and the best place on earth.” It’s home. “C’mon. I’ll show you.” Grasping each child’s hand, she led them to the side of the house, in through the back door and into her favorite room, the kitchen.

“Adele!” Her aunties—Margaret and Tillie Spenser—sat at the massive kitchen table having tea, just as Adele had expected. Tillie was pouring while Aunt Margaret snuck a wafer from the stack on a plate.

“We didn’t hear you arrive.” Margaret jumped up and hugged her so tightly Adele could barely breathe—and she loved it. “We’re so glad you’ve come home, dear.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad to be here.” She should have come back right after her breakup with Rafe, Adele mused as Tillie’s embrace followed, just as tight, just as welcome.

The elderly women bent to study the twins. “Who have we here?” Tillie asked.

“I’m Francie. An’ this is my brother, Franklyn, an’ that’s Delly—”

“They already know me, sweetie.” Adele helped the children shed their coats. “These are my foster aunties.” She introduced them.

“How come you have—” Francie paused in her usual litany of questions when someone rapped on the door.

“This is a busy place.” Tillie hurried to welcome their guest. “Mac, dear! I didn’t know you were home.”

Adele whirled around, thrilled to see the man who’d been her best friend since the day she’d arrived at The Haven with her three foster sisters more than twelve years ago.

“Mac McDowell!” She hurried forward and wrapped him in a hug. Her heart dropped when her very best friend eased away a little too quickly. That was when she noticed how his coat sleeve hung empty from the elbow down. She gulped and refocused. “It’s good to see you, Mac.”

“Good to see you too, Delly.” Mac’s easy smile flashed. Then he stepped around her to greet Tillie and Margaret.

“Hey, you said Delly.” Franklyn studied him curiously. “That’s our name for Adele.”

“It was mine before it was yours.” In a quick sleight of hand Mac, who’d always adored kids, produced two candies from behind their necks that he then offered to them.

Adele introduced the twins, then asked, “How did you know I was home, Mac?”

“I didn’t. Dad sent me to talk to your sister. He says Victoria wants our stables to offer a trail ride business.” He shrugged. A wry smile played with his lips. “Dad doesn’t think the Double M can handle it, mostly I think because he feels overwhelmed by the ranch these days. But apparently she’s been insistent so he wants me to refuse her. I’m guessing Victoria’s still very, uh, strong-minded?”

“We call it determined,” Margaret agreed, eyes dancing. “That’s why we’re happy to have her running The Haven for us—”

“I’m sorry, Mac,” Tillie interrupted her sister. “You’ve missed her. Things have changed around here. Victoria is married now, to Ben Adams. They’ve adopted Ben’s nephew Mikey and they have a daughter, baby Grace.”

“Yes, and today, while Mikey’s at school,” Margaret continued, “Victoria, Ben and Grace are spending some family time together in Chokecherry Hollow.” She smiled. “They won’t be back from town till after school. But please join us for tea. Or coffee, if you prefer.”

“Thank you.” Looking somewhat confused by all the information, Mac shrugged out of his sheepskin coat and hung it on a peg by the door. “I’d love some coffee.”

As she’d done a hundred times before, Adele automatically pulled the coffee canister from the fridge and started the brewer. She also made fresh tea for the aunties and, at their request, but a little hesitantly, selected two china teacups and saucers for the twins.

Adele deliberately waited until everyone was seated at the table and the aunts were busily engaged in explanations to the twins about the proper way to drink their tea-flavored milk from fancy china.

Under the cover of their conversation she murmured, “Want to tell me what happened with your arm, Mac?”

“Lost half of it after I crashed my plane. I didn’t think the ground was quite so close. Some test pilot, huh?” The indifferent shrug and quirky lopsided grin that had been Mackenzie McDowell’s trademark since the day he’d pulled Adele’s hair in fourth grade now lifted the corner of his mouth. “Since everything below my elbow was amputated I can’t fly anymore.” He shrugged in apparent nonchalance. “I need to figure out a new way to earn my living.”

That was typical Mac. Play down his pain and suffering. Except Adele could see fine white lines at the edges of his glacial-green eyes and etched deep around his mobile lips. She knew he still suffered. She also noted that he gave few details about his accident. Because he was still in pain or because he’d done something wrong? She wanted to hear the whole story, but she’d wait until he was ready to tell her.

“I’m very sorry,” she whispered as she squeezed his hand.

“Thanks.” Mac immediately withdrew his hand. “Oh, wait.” He rose and walked to the door. He leaned out to grab something and returned with a handful of bedraggled and grubby—what?

“Uh, thanks. I think.” Adele accepted his offering gingerly. “What are they?”

“No clue, but Mom said your aunts could use them.” Mac made a face but this time he wasn’t pretending. Adele knew all about his mother’s propensity for inventing recipes to use what most people considered weeds. “Herbs?” he suggested.

Not like any herbs I’ve ever seen.

“Maybe.” Adele studied the stalks dubiously. “I’ll set them on the window ledge until we’re ready to use them.” Which will be never.

Gingerly she laid the bundle down, recalling a long-ago potluck at Chokecherry Hollow’s First Avenue Church, a white-steepled building in the little Alberta town five miles away. The entire membership had become ill from eating Mrs. McDowell’s “open range” salad.

Not going to happen in my kitchen. When she lifted her head, Mac was studying her with a look that said he knew she hadn’t a clue what the stalks were for.

“Don’t tell your mom I didn’t recognize her herbs, okay?” Adele begged. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Or you’ll make up some crazy name for them like you did for that science experiment we did in Mr. Burnder’s sixth grade class. Esponsidonia, wasn’t that what you called that oozing pink gunk that spilled out of our volcano?” He tilted his handsome head to one side and asked, “How come you were the only one who didn’t get spattered by it?”

“Because I moved out of the way.” She blushed when he hooted with laughter.

“Oh, the times I tried to get some dirt on you.” Mac shook his head, his smile lingering. “Never seemed to work. Two seconds later you were back to polished perfection, even then.”

“I like clean and tidy,” she defended.

“I know, kiddo.” Mac’s empathetic smile said explanations weren’t needed. He’d never needed them; he always seemed to understand her. “So what are you making for dinner tonight, Chef Adele?”

“I—um, don’t know. I didn’t intend to—er, start cooking until tomorrow.” Why was she bumbling? She’d known Mac for eons. They’d been besties all through school and never once had she felt awkward, so why now? “How’s your coffee?”

“I haven’t tasted it yet.” Mac thrust his gleaming black cowboy boots in front of him then glanced from the cup to her before wrinkling his nose. “It’s not made with tree roots or something, is it?”

“Just coffee, mountain grown,” she assured him, chuckling as he took a timid sip. “See?”

“Excellent. As usual.” Mac grinned. “By the way, I believe all coffee’s mountain grown.”

“Except your mother’s.” Adele burst out laughing when he rolled his eyes, just as she’d expected.

Mac was always fun. She’d missed him, missed this. Sharing, laughing, friendship. The connection they’d had—Adele had never managed to find that bond with another man, though she’d certainly tried. She’d dated men from her church, even become engaged to Rafe, which turned out to be a colossal mistake when she finally realized they were miles apart when it came to goals and aspirations. Now she realized she’d never found the same bond with Rafe as she’d always known with Mac.

If only she’d fallen in love with someone like her best friend.

Adele pushed away the silly thought. As if there was anyone else out there like Mac. She smiled when the twins burst into laughter at Aunt Tillie’s comment. A deep sense of fulfillment settled inside her at this return to The Haven. The familiar kitchen, the orderly row of cooking tools she’d long ago coaxed the aunties to buy, memories of the savory smells she’d always loved to create—she’d done the right thing in quitting her job and bringing the twins to The Haven. They deserved a home and she was going to give these two orphans just that. Contrary to Rafe’s criticism, she could be a single mom, and she would do it without him. Wasn’t that what God wanted?

“Delly, can we go with these aunties?” Francie jerked her arm to get her attention. “They gots some ’puter games.”

“Aunt Margaret certainly does have lots of fun games. Go ahead and behave. I’ll be here if you need me.” She patted the little girl’s shoulder and smiled encouragement at her less boisterous brother. When they’d left, she faced Mac. “So?”

“You tell me,” he said, one sandy eyebrow quirked upward. “How is it to be home again? For good?”

* * *

Mac watched Adele’s face, confused by the—how to describe it?—lack of sparkle in those amber eyes.

“I’m home for a while and it feels very good. I’m fostering those two sweethearts.” Adele glanced at the retreating twins and then at him, but there was hesitation as she explained, “And I’m considering adoption.” He couldn’t quite decipher her expression.

“Your fiancé wants that?” Mac sipped his coffee while trying not to show his dismay. He’d always supported Delly. That wasn’t going to change.

“I don’t have one.” Adele grimaced. “I told you a long time ago that I was never going to marry and repeat my parents’ disasters.”

“Apparently you forgot that vow because you did get engaged, Delly. The aunts wrote me about it a while ago.” He saw pain in those expressive eyes. “What happened?”

“What always happens with romance, what I’ve been avoiding my entire life.” She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. “Arguments.”

“About?” Don’t prejudge the guy. Mac waited for her to explain.

“Rafe and I argued about pretty much everything, but recently they centered around Francie and Franklyn. He said I was getting too involved.” She rolled her eyes.

Mac figured this Rafe couldn’t have known Delly very well if he expected her not to get involved with a pair of needy kids.

“We bickered a lot about that, but I thought if he’d just get to know them...” Adele shook her blond head, apparently unwilling to tell Mac all. “One day Rafe informed me that he didn’t want a ready-made family. Or any family.” She stared at her hands. “I tried to understand. But I couldn’t marry him and not care what happened to the twins. I kept praying for God to help.”

“I see.” Mac frowned but said nothing more, waiting for the rest of the sad story.

“Then Rafe missed an important dinner. He lied about why and I knew it, so I pressed him. People who love each other don’t lie to their partners.” The way she compressed her lips told Mac she was still hurting. “Turns out Rafe didn’t love me, not the way I thought. He wanted to marry me because he figured I’d be an asset to him in his bid for full partner at his law firm. Francie and Franklyn didn’t fit his plan.”

Mac hissed air between his teeth, disgusted with a man he’d never met. “Ow.”

“Yes. Reality bites. Rafe wasn’t the man I’d dreamed he was. Our so-called love was all in my mind.”

Mac could see her struggling not to show her distress over that discovery. Since the day they’d first met, he’d understood that Adele needed to replace the painful memory of her parents’ bitter marriage and abusive home life.

“I finally realized that marrying Rafe would be repeating the ugliness of my parents’ marriage.” She shook her head to emphasize her words. “I won’t do that, Mac. I will not subject myself or anyone else to the hate and misery of that. I experienced it as a kid. I’m never going there again. Rafe was the second guy I trusted and then realized didn’t really love me.”

Mac sat up straight at the news. Delly had loved someone else?

“So I’ve reaffirmed my decision never to marry,” she said firmly. “I don’t think I could endure the failure.”

“Not necessarily gonna happen,” he murmured, but she ignored him.

“You know me and my past. My parents—my childhood dug marks too deep. Even when they were finally splitting up they couldn’t agree on parenting, so Gina and I were sent to foster care.” She swallowed hard. Seeing her so determined not to cry made Mac feel helpless. “How could they do that to their own kids?”

“I don’t know, Del—”

“So-called love wreaked havoc with my self-esteem.” Adele straightened, control regained. “It was even worse this time to realize Rafe was prepared to pretend to love me, but only as long as I fit the mold he had. Love tore my family apart, Mac. I thought I was over the effects of that, but here I am, reliving the same old feelings. Love costs too much. I want no part of it.”

“Adele, love has given you so much,” Mac countered, hating to see her so distraught. “Tillie and Margaret took you, Victoria, Olivia and Gemma from the foster system before you were teens. The four of you grew up here at The Haven surrounded by so much love from those two ladies that the rest of us local kids envied you.” He brushed his hand against her cheek before quietly continuing. “You and your foster sisters have two aunts that adore you. And you have one another to lean on.”

“True,” she agreed solemnly, her gaze holding his. “And we love that the aunties did that for us.”

“But?” Mac hated that she couldn’t seem to break free of her past.

“This sounds a little schoolgirlish, but I’ve always longed to have what other girls had,” she whispered. “Boyfriends, somebody who loved me enough that I never doubted it.”

“I don’t count?” Mac arched his brows.

“You were my best friend, Mac, and that counts for a lot. But you never loved me,” she said. “Not romantically. We’re just friends.”

“Just.” His mouth turned down. Adele had been a huge part of his life before he’d left home. Was he going to lose all that? “Friendship’s not enough now?”

“It’s a great deal, Mac, and I will always treasure it.” Her hand closed around his and squeezed it. “But my escape from the past was always a dream about a fairy-tale love that would override my past.” She withdrew her hand. “Hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will.”

“That’s why you went out with Kent Krane from high school.” He gaped when she nodded. “I always wondered what you saw in him.”

“Kent was handsome enough to be a Prince Charming, but he wasn’t for me.” She smiled sadly. “Before I met Rafe, after Jeff dumped me—”

“Jeff?” Mac frowned.

“A guy from my church in Edmonton.” Adele sighed. “I dated several. I’d pray about those dates, wait for God to stop me or let me know those men weren’t the one. When He didn’t, I’d go out for coffee with them. Or lunch. Or to adult fellowship. Whatever.” She couldn’t read Mac’s expression, but she was pretty sure he thought she was an idiot. “None of them fit my list.”

“Until Rafe.” He waited for her nod. “Let me guess. He was attentive, he was fun and he made your heart speed up.”

“Yes, all of it.” She thrust out her chin when he smiled. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing if he was the one. But he wasn’t. Can I take a stab at guessing why?”

“I already told you why. But go ahead.” Adele looked as if she wished she’d never told him anything.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you, dear friend Adele, like perfection. Never a hair out of place, even when you’re cooking full tilt. Your chef’s whites are probably always pristine, right?”

“I try,” she acknowledged. “So what? You’re making me sound as if I’m suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder,” she complained.

“No, I’m not saying that at all.” Mac paused.

While recuperating after the amputation, he’d had sessions with a psychotherapist, during which Mac had talked about Adele, a lot. It had helped him avoid facing his own truth. The therapist had offered insights that helped Mac understand much more about her and about his friendship with her. Maybe he should shut up now, but Delly was his friend and he wanted to help her.

“What are you saying, Mac?” she demanded in a testy tone.

“Sweetie, you were a kid who lived in a place of turmoil. Everybody deals with things differently. After my brother died, I rode broncs, the worst ones. I needed to feel like I was challenging life.”

“You were.” Adele tossed him a cheeky grin.

“Agreed. You coped with your messed-up world by learning to bring order from chaos. Once you had things in order, perfect, you were able to deal with them.”

“I guess.” At least she was listening.

“Delly, I think it’s the same in your love life. You’re looking for perfection.” Mac met her glare head-on. “I mean that sincerely. Even today, after a long car ride with two active kids, you look as if you stepped off a magazine page.” He grinned as a thump sounded from the depths of the house. “The kids did, too, though I doubt they do now.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is that there’s no man alive who could get a perfect grade from you.” He immediately wished those words unsaid.

“That’s not very nice, Mac,” she snapped, making her sound cold, the pain in her eyes telling Mac that he’d gone too far. And Adele Parker was anything but cold. “I only told you that so that you’d understand why I am no longer considering marriage.”

“You couldn’t maybe consider living with less than your dream of husband perfection?” he teased, striving for a little lightness. When she shook her head, he sighed. “So instead you’ll settle for single parenthood.” Mac squeezed his eyes closed, then sighed. “I give up.”

* * *

Adele didn’t like Mac saying he gave up on her. But she didn’t have time to think about it before his next question.

“What’s the news on your sister?” he asked.

“There isn’t any.” Adele sighed with frustration before explaining, “As you know, Gina went to a foster home like me. After that, it’s as if she disappeared. No one in the foster system can or will tell me anything. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever find her.”

“You will.” Mac sounded confident.

“God willing.” She wanted to see Gina so badly. God didn’t want her to marry but didn’t He want her reunion with Gina?

“How did you get involved with Francie and Franklyn?” Mac asked.

“After Victoria had baby Grace I guess my maternal instinct kicked in. I never realized how much I love kids until I held Grace. I was already involved with the Big Sister program, but little Grace got me interested in foster parenting, just on weekends mostly. Or overnight. That’s how I met the twins. They stole my heart.”

“I can understand that. They’re quite the pair.” Mac smiled.

“Since marriage isn’t an option, I’ve decided to build my family by adoption while I keep searching for Gina.” She held her breath, hoping for his approval.

But Mac frowned. “Um, Adele—”

“Please don’t lecture me how I’m going about it all wrong, Mac. How I need to be married to have kids, how a man should be part of the twins’ lives.” Adele made a face. “People always say that’s God’s ideal plan, and given the perfect partner, I’d agree. But I haven’t found him, and life is moving on.”

“We’re the same age. We’re not old!” Mac’s protest made her smile. “Are we?”

“No,” she said gently. “But it’s not about you and me, Mac. Those two sweet kids lost their parents in a car accident. They don’t have a mom and a dad anymore.” The usual bubble of anger built inside her. “They’re growing up being shuffled from one crowded foster home to the next. That’s not right. Francie and Franklyn can’t wait for my Prince Charming to show up.”

If Mac was surprised by her passion, he didn’t show it. He simply waited for her to continue.

“I’d go to the foster care office and keep seeing Francie’s and Franklyn’s sad little faces as they waited to be shunted to their next home.” She pursed her lips. “Do you know what their foster parents complained about most?”

Mac frowned, shook his head.

“That they’re too wild. That was one of Rafe’s issues, too.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory, then continued. “They’re just normal, active, healthy kids who need some time and attention.” She thrust out her chin. “I’m going to give them that and lots of love.”

“Good for you.” Mac sounded sincere.

Somehow Adele hadn’t expected that acceptance. “Thank you.”

Unnerved by his intense scrutiny and the way it made her stomach do odd dances it had never done before, Adele shifted her gaze to the big kitchen window overlooking their valley. The late-afternoon sun sinking behind the not-too-distant peaks of the Canadian Rockies turned the sky into a wild profusion of oranges, reds and purples that seemed full of possibility.

That was why she’d come back to The Haven. For the possibility of having a family to love.

“Are you really okay about your breakup, Delly?”

“Totally.” She faced him, her heart thudding with pleasure at the sight of that familiar, tousled beach-bum-blond hair. “I’m so glad you’re back, Mac,” she said quietly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Because your beau is gone?” His mouth spread wide in a teasing grin.

“No. Because you’ve always been my best friend. I doubt you’ve missed me, though.” She studied his face. “You haven’t texted or emailed in ages.”

“No.” Mac met her stare with a blank look, then changed the subject. “Dad said there have been a lot of foster kids staying here lately.”

“He didn’t explain? That’s my foster aunties’ newest ministry. That’s why I’m here.” Seeing his confusion, Adele clarified, “Tillie and Margaret had this genius idea that The Haven could become a temporary refuge for troubled foster kids. They decided this big old house with its attached grounds, cabins and acres of forest were perfect for it, so they convinced Victoria to become managing director of their new outreach. It’s really taken off.”

“Those ladies just can’t stop being missionaries, can they? Not even after retiring from the mission field, raising you four foster girls or ministering through their letter writing campaign to folks serving in the military. And that’s not mentioning all their church work.” He shook his head. “Not exactly a quiet retirement.”

“I doubt the aunties will ever stop being missionaries,” Adele said fondly.

“I was the recipient of a few of their letters while I was flying, you know. Their ability to encourage and inspire is amazing.” Mac’s eyes softened, his voice affectionate. “I admire the ladies for starting another undertaking in what—their seventies?”

“Seventy-five, but Aunt Tillie and Aunt Margaret won’t let age stop them. Now that Vic’s on board she’s pushing to add even more activities, which I’m guessing is why she suggested trail rides to your dad.” She glanced around. “I’m here to handle the kitchen end of the operation.”

“Good for you, Delly,” he cheered.

“We’ll see.” Adele pushed the plate of wafers toward him. “Store-bought, I’m afraid, but help yourself.” As he eagerly grabbed three she said, “Hey, if you’re going to be around for a while, you can be the official taste tester for my baking.” Maybe then Mac would explain his plans.

“I happen to be extremely good at tasting baking, especially if it’s not from Mom’s kitchen.” He chuckled at her grimace. “What’s the pay for an official taste tester, Chef Adele?”

“Food. And you can use me as a reference.” She liked the way his smile lit up his whole face. Mac didn’t just nod like Rafe did while he continued with his own thoughts. Mac really listened. “You’re back to take over the Double M.” His face altered so she added uncertainly, “That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“Once it was.” Mac swept the crumbs off the place mat and into his napkin, but his expression gave away little. “The parents certainly think their ranch is where I belong.”

“You don’t?” She blinked in surprise at his diffident response.

“The ranch, especially the stables, was always Carter’s dream.” His face tightened. When Carter, his elder brother, had died over ten years ago from brain cancer, Adele had comforted Mac through his loss. “I haven’t quite figured out my future, Delly.”

“But you are finished with the military?”

Mac McDowell had been the talk of nearby Chokecherry Hollow when, in the middle of his second year of college, he’d deserted his agricultural studies for the military. Now he was home again.

“Well, I’m back on the ranch.” Mac’s lips pinched tight before he forced a grin on his handsome face. His words made it sound like nothing had changed.

But Adele wasn’t so sure that was true. Today everything felt different. Her bestie didn’t seem the same and it wasn’t only because Mac had lost part of his arm. She had a strange feeling that he needed her help, though she wasn’t sure with what or that he would even accept it.

“So now what, Mac?” she pressed.

Chapter Two

Exactly. Now what?

Mac had no clue. That was why he’d come to The Haven today. He’d hoped to talk to Adele’s aunts, to seek their advice about finding God’s plan for his future. The army chaplain had insisted He had one, but if so, Mac couldn’t figure it out.

“Hey, pal. Did I say something wrong?” Adele’s perfect heart-shaped face scrunched up with concern, golden brows drawn together.

“No, I’m just not sure what comes next for me. Mom and Dad have talked for years about taking a cruise to Australia. They’re hinting that I could run the ranch, decide if I want to do it permanently, while they’re away.” His eyes darkened. “I want them to go. Dad’s heart isn’t great. I know it’s the stress of the ranch. They deserve a holiday. But...”

Mac hated the uncertainty in his voice. It sounded like weakness and he despised being weak almost as much as he despised himself for not owning up to his mistake, the one that caused his accident, the one that cost...

“You don’t feel well enough to take over?” Adele frowned. “How long ago was the crash, Mac? No one told me about it or I’d have come to see you.”

“I didn’t want visitors.”

When she blinked at his harsh tone Mac forced himself to relax. Adele had always tried to fix things. For everyone. She didn’t know that what he’d done was unfixable and, if he wasn’t careful, with her intuition she might learn the truth about his accident. Mac did not want that.

“The crash happened months ago, Delly, and it was a long, hard recovery. It’s a good thing you didn’t see how bad a patient I was,” he teased, then quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, it’s your own fault you didn’t hear. You’ve been living it up in Edmonton. Everyone in town is raving about your success, Madame Chef.”

“Catering for the bigwigs and all their corporate parties was fun,” Adele agreed. “But after breaking up with Rafe—” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but there was a glint in those eyes that told Mac differently. “It was time to move on. Anyway, I want to be part of this new work at The Haven. But we were talking about you.”

“Not much to say.” Now he was the one pretending. “I lost my hand and part of my arm when I crashed because I took stupid, reckless chances. I deserve what I got.” Dave didn’t. He shook off the guilty despair that always hovered. “At least my brain still works. Mostly.”

“Stop doing that, will you?” No surprise, Adele wasn’t buying his pretense. “We’ve been friends a long time, Mac. Even though we’ve been out of touch for a while, I can still tell when you’re not okay. Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

“Bossy as ever, aren’t you?” But he couldn’t lie, not with always-tell-the-truth Delly. “I guess I’m afraid to take over the ranch.”

“Got that. Why?”

“It’s taking me a while to come to terms with not flying again, not feeling that rush of excitement.” Mac knew his response wouldn’t end her questions and it wasn’t the whole truth, but he couldn’t possibly tell her everything. “Ranching now seems pretty tame compared to flying.”

“Tame? You always loved ranching.” Adele frowned, obviously trying to understand. “Chokecherry Hollow’s rodeo starts next week. Granted it’s not the world’s largest, but you never met a rodeo you didn’t enter.”

“I can’t ride anymore, Delly.” He moved his stump.

“Why not?” As kids, she’d always played tough guy, countering his excuses with perfect logic, just like now. “You never needed two hands to ride broncs before, Mac. I distinctly remember you telling me it was all in the legs.”

“I’m still healing from my injuries,” he quipped, hating this defensive feeling.

“Making ranching and riding impossible?” Frowning, Adele leaned forward to peer into his eyes. “Impossible has never been in your vocabulary, McDowell. What’s the real reason you don’t want to stay on the Double M?”

She knew him too well. Mac took a moment to admire the glossy sheen of her golden hair, left free for once so it could cascade past her shoulders in a tumble of curls that was neither messy nor unkempt. No matter what she was doing, Adele always looked perfectly put together.

“I’m not the same person I was when we left high school, Delly,” he warned softly.

“Who is?” she shot back. “Life’s changed you as much as it’s changed me. But at heart we’re the same people God created.” Her bright amber eyes shone. She looked and sounded so confident in her faith.

Why wasn’t he?

“’S’cuse me.” The little girl, Francie, stood in the doorway. But neither she nor her brother behind her looked happy.

“What is it, sweetie?”

The little girl launched herself into Adele’s arms. “I don’t wanna stay here, Delly,” she wailed.

Though slightly chagrined that his special moniker for his bestie had been usurped by these two mini-heartbreakers, Mac’s annoyance quickly metamorphosed into a rush of compassion as the girl wept as though her heart would break. He choked up just witnessing her misery.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Adele swung Francie onto her knee and wrapped her other arm around Franklyn. “You tell me, Franklyn,” she prodded when Francie couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Those aunties said we hafta have different rooms.” A hint of anger underlay Franklyn’s glowering expression. “Francie don’t want to.”

Adele lifted her head and shrugged at Mac helplessly. The shimmering glow of mother love in her beautiful eyes made him gulp.

“Where do you want to sleep, Francie?” she asked.

“Me an’ Franklyn like sharin’.” Francie sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “When the bad dreams c-come—” And there she went again, bawling her heart out. Mac felt utterly helpless, and he hated it.

“Sweetheart, did the aunties say you had to have two rooms?” Adele gently smoothed away Francie’s tears, smiling when the child shook her head. “Then you’re crying because you think they’ll make you?”

“I guess.” Francie sniffed, then frowned when Tillie and Margaret appeared, slightly out of breath. “Won’t they?”

“Of course not. Why didn’t you tell them what you wanted?” Adele asked gently.

“We’re not s’posed to make a fuss.” Franklyn’s grave tone made Mac blink. Adele was alert, too. He could tell she was fighting off her annoyance because her back suddenly straightened as it always had when they were in school and someone had irritated her.

“It’s not a fuss to say if you don’t want to do something, Franklyn,” he intervened to give Adele a moment to regroup. “Otherwise, how will people know what you want?”

“But the lady at that office where we go said we gotta—Ow!” Franklyn rubbed his arm and glared at Francie. “She pinched me.”

“She’s going to apologize,” Adele promised with a reproving glance at Francie. “But first I need to say something to both of you and I want you to listen very carefully.”

Mac had to stifle a chuckle at the uh-oh look filling Francie’s face.

“This is The Haven. It isn’t like other places you’ve stayed before. It’s different.” Adele had to see their skepticism because Mac sure did.

He was also very aware of Tillie and Margaret standing in the doorway, worried and probably praying for the two waifs. But Delly was right. The Haven was like no other place on earth.

“Here you may ask for whatever you need. You won’t ever get in trouble for asking. You may not always get what you ask for, but we can’t help you if you don’t ask.” Adele continued, gently but firmly, “And you don’t have to be afraid here. We love you both and we’re all going to do everything we can to make sure you’re happy. Okay?”

Franklyn nodded but it seemed Francie wasn’t quite convinced.

“C’n Franklyn an’ me sleep in the same room an’ c’n it be blue, light not dark, an’ c’n we have lotsa toys ’n’ everything?” she asked in a rush.

“Hmm, let’s see.” Adele’s face glowed as she glanced at Mac. “Yes, yes, yes and maybe. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Clearly shocked, Francie stared at Franklyn as if to ask if he believed it.

“Good. An apology?” She waited, one eyebrow arched as the little girl asked her brother’s forgiveness and, receiving it, hugged him. “Now, do you have any other questions, or should we get our things from the car and begin unpacking?” Adele noted Francie’s grin at her brother. “What’s that look about?”

“C’n me ’n’ Franklyn have some candy?” the little girl asked, eyes sparkling with fun.

“Not before supper.” Adele rolled her eyes at Mac. “Always a test. Jackets on, children. Let’s get busy. But first—”

She didn’t have to admonish twice. Francie walked over to the aunties and smiled.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I din’t know. Thanks for lettin’ us stay here.”

“Child, you’re very welcome.” Tears welled in Tillie’s eyes as she brushed her hand against Francie’s blond pigtails. “Such pretty hair, just like our Adele’s.”

“Two more children in the house. How lovely.” Margaret clasped her hands together as she thought it through. “We have a pretty blue room with two beds and a wonderful window seat made just for stories. Will that do?”

The children nodded eagerly. Tillie couldn’t seem to help smoothing Franklyn’s curly hair, to no avail, in Mac’s opinion.

“See how easy that was?” Adele chided the children. “Come on now. Time to get busy.”

Jackets on, they hurried out the door, but Mac hung back.

“Dear boy, I do hope you’ll be dropping by frequently now that both you and Adele are home,” Tillie enthused.

Immediately enveloped in a cloud of scent Delly had once informed him was the aunts’ favorite lemon verbena, Mac felt like he had come home.

“Thank you. Have you been skiing, Tillie? I’m envious of your tan.” Other than the tan, the identical twin sisters were almost impossible to tell apart.

“Everyone’s envious, dear. Especially Margaret, though she won’t try a bottled tan. I love it.” Tillie’s face saddened. “I’m so sorry about you and your copilot’s injuries. We’ve been praying for you both.”

“Er—thank you.” He gulped. He hadn’t responded to their letters. So how did the aunts know about Dave? And what else did they know? Did they know Mac had caused his buddy’s wounds? Did they know he’d never told the truth about the crash?

“If there’s any way we can help, dear, you have only to ask,” Margaret said, patting his shoulder.

“Well—” He exhaled. “I would like to speak to the two of you privately at your convenience. I need some advice.”

“We’d be pleased to help.” Margaret smiled. “Shall we text you with a suitable time?”

“Thank you.” Mac blinked. The two of them texted. Why was he surprised? No one could call the Spenser sisters old-fashioned. “That would be great.”

“Fine. Now, sister, we’d better help our family move in.” Tillie chuckled. “Oh, I love the sound of that word. Family. Want to help?” she asked Mac brightly.

“Of course.” Mac held their coats, then ushered them outside, ensuring they carried only the lightest of items. He’d made his third trip in when the grandfather clock in the hall chimed. He froze.

“Something wrong?” Adele, arms loaded with boxes, stopped short.

“The time. I told Mom I’d only be gone ten minutes and it’s been over an hour.” Mac set down his load. “Sorry, but I have to get home. See you later everyone.”

“Come for a meal anytime,” Adele offered as she walked him to his truck.

“Like I’d miss an opportunity to eat your cooking,” he scoffed. “Not a chance, Delly.” He lowered his voice. “I’m just wondering, is Francie and Franklyn’s stay here unlimited? There’s no chance they’ll be removed?”

Mac could have kicked himself when a little voice piped up, “Me an’ Franklyn are stayin’ with Delly forever.”

Francie stood behind him, blond pigtails reminding Mac of a very determined Adele when she’d first arrived at The Haven with her three foster sisters.

“Good,” he said, with a smile, wishing he’d made sure his questions couldn’t be overheard.

“Delly said we might get ’dopted. That means get a fam’ly,” she explained. She tilted her head to one side, studying him. “Maybe Delly will ’dopt you, too, Mr. Mac.”

Wondering if he looked like he needed Adele to care for him and oddly attracted by the thought, Mac chose his words carefully.

“Call me Mac, okay? No Mister.” He smiled at them. “It was very nice to meet you, Francie, and you, Franklyn,” he added when the boy appeared beside his sister. “I’ll see you soon. You, too, Delly. Bye.”

He returned Adele’s wave but remained still, listening as she reassured the two orphaned kids.

“Mac has his own family, honey.” Adele’s sweet voice made even Mac feel better.

“Oh.” Francie sounded deflated.

“So, he’s not gonna be the daddy in our fam’ly?” Franklyn sounded disappointed. “When will we be one?”

“We’re already a family, darling, because we’re together,” Adele assured him. “It’s going to take some time before the judge officially tells us that we can stay together, and things might not go exactly the way we want, so you’ll have to be patient.” That was Delly, always telling the truth, painful or not.

Mac watched the kids’ faces fall in disappointment and half wished Adele had shelved her insistence on honesty for a while, at least until the children had settled in to The Haven. He also half wished he’d told her the whole truth about his accident. Because it wasn’t going to get any easier.

“But we don’t have to worry about when we’ll officially be a family because God will work that out.” With a last wave at him Adele shepherded the two now-quiet children and their teddy bears inside.

The back door closed, but for a moment Mac couldn’t move.

God would work it out?

He’d stopped praying a while ago, right after the crash. Maybe it was coming back to The Haven, maybe it was hearing the love in Delly’s voice as she comforted those two orphans, or maybe it was their rapt attention to whatever she said. Whatever the reason, a prayer slipped out of him.

“Please, God, help those kids and Adele get their dream of family.”

What about your dream, Mac? What do you want?

Right now, Mac’s only dream was to see his good friend Adele happy. He didn’t have a plan for his future. Hopefully Tillie and Margaret would have some advice about that because Dad couldn’t keep running the Double M. If Mac was going to take over, it had to be soon. And if he wasn’t, he owed it to his parents to help sell the place so they could retire.

But if he didn’t ranch, what would he do?

Mac drove home with the same question rolling through his brain that had been there from the moment he’d awakened after the accident.

What’s next, God?

Chapter Three

“Anyone who just served that incredible Thanksgiving dinner to more than fifteen people should not look like you do.” Three days later, on Monday evening, Mac shook his head at Adele’s flawless beauty, then returned his attention to drying the roaster.

“What’s wrong with how I look?” From the corner of his eye he saw her pat her chic upswept curls. Then she tugged on his arm and demanded, “Mac?”

“Nothing’s wrong with how you look. That’s the problem.” He chuckled at her confusion, amused by the way she stretched to make herself taller than her actual five foot six. She’d always complained about his eight-inch height advantage.

“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded, brow furrowed.

“I’m amazed at you. After feeding half of Chokecherry Hollow, that dress you’re wearing is still immaculate, your eyes sparkle like a fresh batch of your aunt Tillie’s Christmas toffee and your cheeks glow like Margaret’s Nanjing cherry jelly. You look so good it’s scary, Adele.”

“Well, I had to make a concession and take off my heels,” she explained. “And I did wear an apron for most of the day, but I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.”

“That’s how I meant it.” He ogled the pumpkin pie, felt his stomach protest and shook his head. Today was Monday. Surely Thanksgiving leftovers would still be here tomorrow. He’d better wait. Adele noticed when he patted his midriff and chuckled.

“Aw, don’t you feel well, Mac?” Her pseudo look of concern was spoiled by her smirk. “Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten all three kinds of pie?”

“This body is a machine,” he said proudly, thrusting out his chin. “Burns off calories like a well-oiled engine.”

“Uh-huh.” Adele had long ago mastered using mere facial expressions to get her point across, and so Mac couldn’t help laughing at her mocking mime. But he choked at her next question. “What were you whispering to Francie during dinner?”

“She, uh, asked me if she could tell me about the car accident.” Mac focused on drying the last pot as another surge of sympathy for the orphaned children welled inside.

“You’d have a problem with listening?” Adele stretched to place each pan just so on the hanging rack.

“No, but—” Mac frowned. “The kid wants to talk to me about the day her parents died. She should talk to a psychologist.”

“Both of them already did that. I’m guessing Francie needs to talk more, to you.” Adele studied him with a glint of curiosity. “You two seem to have a bond developing. I’m sure Francie would far rather speak to you than a stranger.”

“Yes, but what do I know?” Panic filled him. “I might say the wrong thing and hurt her. That’s the last thing—”

“Mac.” Adele laid her hand on his arm, her voice very gentle. “It’s not what you say. It’s listening to her. Let Francie vent. Comfort her if she needs it. You know how to do that.”

“Because of my accident, you mean?”

“Because you’re an expert when it comes to comforting people. I should know. You helped me through some really rough times when we were kids, especially when I first came here.” Her faith in him was appealing. “You can do that for Francie, too. She already trusts you. Otherwise why would she have asked you to listen?”

Mac appreciated Adele’s assurances, but he had no confidence in himself. He felt broken down, used, a mess up with no prospects for the future. He especially didn’t feel good about trying to fill in for Carter, who’d dreamed of putting his own mark on the Double M. Stepping into his dead brother’s shoes could hardly be what the chaplain espoused as God’s plan for Mac’s life.

“I wouldn’t know how to help Francie,” he demurred, feeling helpless.

“What matters is that you listen,” Adele repeated. “If you need a starting point, talk about your miniature horses. The aunts said they’re still at the ranch.”

“They are but—How long are Francie and Franklyn staying here?” Was it right to get involved if they would be taken away? Was it right not to?

“I wasn’t given a timetable. Until I can adopt them, I hope. They have no relatives. They’ve struggled in several homes because they’re normal, active children, which apparently some people don’t appreciate.” Adele’s rolling eyes expressed her thoughts on that. “I’m told most couples want babies or much younger children. Also, sometimes—” She hesitated, glanced over one shoulder.

“Yes?” he prodded.

“Sometimes the twins make up stories,” she murmured very quietly. “It’s caused problems for them so we’re working on that.”

“You believe total and utter truth is always the answer, don’t you, Delly?” Mac watched her eyes widen, wondering how she’d react if he told her the truth about his “accident.”

“How can relationships grow and how can you trust someone if they’re hiding behind lies?” She shrugged. “I think The Haven will be good for the twins even though I’m going to be rushed off my feet.”

“Because?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Victoria and the aunts have this place nearly booked solid for the next few months, not only for visiting foster kids but for parties and local events, including a bunch of Christmas festivities. I’m going to need a kitchen helper.”

“Don’t look at me. Tasting is what I do best. Good thing you have a dishwasher.” He grimaced at the dirty dishes still littering the counter. “How will you work with the twins underfoot?” The old protective instinct he’d always felt toward Adele bubbled inside. “You’re taking on a lot.”

“I’m not sure how anything will work,” she admitted as she drained the sink and swished water to clear the suds. “Least of all how it will work with Francie and Franklyn. But I refuse to see those children shuttled from place to place, like I was, like my foster sisters were until the aunts brought us here.”

“But—”

“The twins are sweet and loving, Mac.” Adele unfolded her spotless apron and set it aside. “They deserve to be able to relax and be kids without worrying about where they’ll be sent next.”

“Softhearted Delly.” He smiled at her feisty attitude. “You always did champion the less fortunate.” But there had to be more to her plan. He refilled their coffee then sat down at the table, determined to figure out exactly why his friend was doing this. Thankfully she was in a chatty mood. “Talk to me about this adoption.”

She sat and stared into her coffee for several moments.

“You know I had a miserable, abusive childhood. The aunties rescued me from that and brought me here, where there wasn’t constant fighting or parents making promises they never kept.”

“God used them,” he said, loving the way she appreciated all her foster aunts had done.

“For sure.” She huffed out a sigh. “Before I left Edmonton this time, I went to see both my parents. I thought maybe there was something I could do to heal the rifts between us, repair the bonds, start new relationships. We are family after all.”

“And?” Mac was sorry he’d asked when her face tightened, and her irises darkened.

“They’re divorced, haven’t lived together for years, have scarcely seen each other in eons. Both have remarried and divorced several times. Yet they’re still both miserable, blaming one another, lying about what the other one did to them, full of hate.” She shook her head. “I don’t want anything like that to touch Francie and Franklyn. They’ve had enough to deal with, losing their parents.”

“Mama Adele, shielding her cubs.” Mac savored this fiercely protective side of her.

“The long-held illusion that my parents and I could ever be a family, even a distant one, has finally been irrevocably shattered.” Her shoulders went back, her jaw thrust forward. “Now I’m determined to raise Francie and Franklyn with love and support and a solid trust in God’s love. On my own, until I can find Gina.”

“And if you don’t get permanent custody?” Mac felt a responsibility to prepare her.

“I’ll hate it,” she admitted honestly. “But I’ll still do everything I can to make sure they get in to the right home.” She studied him intently. “I can’t walk away from the twins, Mac. That’s not how my aunties raised me.”

“I know. That’s what I like most about you.” He smiled, brushed a tendril off her cheek. “I’ll help you however I can.” Why did she look so surprised? Hadn’t he always been there for Delly? Okay, maybe not lately but—“I care about the twins, too.”

“Thank you, Mac.” Adele’s smile warmed the cold, guilty place inside him.

Would she smile like that, even want him around, if she knew what a jerk he was? She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment and slid her arm around his waist, hugging him as she’d done so many times before.

“It’s so nice to have you back. My dear, dear honest best friend. Home at last.”

Mac froze, breathing in the scent of her flowery shampoo, marveling at the soft brush of her silky cheek against his, savoring the gentle intimacy that until this moment he hadn’t known he’d missed.

Friend?

Somehow that one expression didn’t seem to encapsulate all that he and Adele had shared. It didn’t say enough. But since he couldn’t come up with an alternative, he slipped his good arm around her and enjoyed the moment, content to remain right where he was. With Adele.

He deliberately ignored that word honest. He’d figure the future out later, after he talked with the aunts about God’s plan for his life.

* * *

Two days after Thanksgiving Adele still blushed at the memory of her sister finding them hugging in the kitchen. Though she and Mac both knew there’d been nothing romantic in that embrace, Victoria wouldn’t let it go.

“You care a lot about Mac, don’t you?” she asked now as she sipped her tea at the big kitchen table.

“Mac’s my best friend, Vic. Always has been. You know that.” Adele checked on the Swiss steak cooking in the oven, added potatoes to bake and a huge dish of rhubarb crisp. “There. Everything should be done in time for supper,” she said as she closed the door.

“Where are the twins?” Victoria glanced around.

“With Mac in the aunties’ herb garden, checking to see if there’s anything left out there that we can still use.”

“He sure comes over here a lot—”

“The Haven’s gardens had a good yield this year,” Adele interrupted, hoping to forestall more of Victoria’s questions about Mac. “It was nice to share the excess during the harvest day you organized for those needy families yesterday. Though I doubt the deer are grateful,” she added. Maybe her sister’s intense dislike of deer wreaking havoc in the garden could change the subject.

Fat chance.

“Is Mac staying to run the Double M?” Victoria ignored Adele’s hiss of irritation. “What? I’m just wondering, like everyone else in Chokecherry Hollow.”

“And you think I have the answer? I don’t know Mac’s future plans. I’m not sure he does, either.” Adele checked on the French bread she’d set to rise earlier and decided it was ready to form. “If he has decided, he has not told me,” she added firmly as she greased the bread pans.

“Since when doesn’t Mac McDowell talk everything over with you?” Victoria held up both hands at Adele’s glare. “Okay, ’nuff said. Except—I’m guessing Mac’s the reason you didn’t offer me that last piece of pumpkin pie sitting in the fridge. And here I thought our sister bond was strong.” Laughing, she strolled out of the room to answer a call from her husband, Ben.

With a grimace directed at her back, Adele shaped the bread into two pans, then began mixing dressing for the coleslaw she’d make when Jake, The Haven’s hired man, returned from the cold cellar with one of her aunt’s prized cabbages. Finished with her immediate task, she took a moment to savor the aroma-filled kitchen where she’d first learned to cook.

How blessed she’d been to live here with her foster aunts. They’d striven so hard to help her shed her bitterness against parents who’d lied to her about everything, including the visitor to their home that long-ago day, never explaining that she and Gina would be taken into foster care—permanently.

The aunties’ love and security had soothed those wounds. That healing love was what she wanted for the twins.

Adele roused from her gloomy thoughts as Mac opened the back door and ushered Franklyn and Francie inside. She loved the sound of the children’s laughter, and naturally Mac did everything he could to provoke more of it. It was refreshing to see him so engaged with kids again. In the old days he’d spoken often of his desire for a big family. But he’d mentioned nothing about a girlfriend. Was there now someone special in Mac’s world?

She peeked into the pail Mac held out. “Thanks.”

“Jake said you can use them. I’d spare you and take these weeds home to my mother but then she’d make something with them and I’d have to eat it.” He looked dubious.

“Not weeds. Basil, dill and parsley are always useful in my kitchen.” Since Mac’s grin did funny things to Adele’s stomach, she turned away to rinse the herbs before storing them in a drying dish. “Did you two have fun?”

It was obvious from the children’s excited chatter that they had.

“We found punkins,” Franklyn exclaimed.

“How many?” Adele asked.

“Tons and tons.” Francie waved her hands wildly.

“How many did you find, Francie?” Adele prodded, arching an eyebrow.

“Three,” the little girl admitted with a sigh.

“’Nuff so you c’n make punkin pie again?” Franklyn hinted hopefully, then high-fived Mac.

“Because everyone needs more pie right after our Thanksgiving feast?” Adele shot Mac a look, certain he’d come up with that plan.

“Uh-huh. Mac says everybody needs more pie all the time.” Franklyn nodded, unabashed.

“Does he?” She angled him a look. “Well, good work finding those pumpkins. Now you two go and wash up. Aunt Tillie and Aunt Margaret are waiting to tell you the next installment of their story about Africa.” She watched them leave, a happy glow inside. So far, Adele was loving motherhood.

“They’re cute, those two. But they sure keep a guy on his toes.” Mac sat down with a sigh and flexed his leg.

“Are you in pain?” Adele studied his face, wondering how she could help.

“No. Just a little stiff. I tried riding this morning.” Mac’s face gave nothing away.

“Great!” Riding was a sign he was staying, wasn’t it? “And?”

“No big deal. Cowboys ride and I am just a cowboy after all.” His wink reminded her of a long-ago argument when she’d given vent to her frustration at his show-off tendencies.

“And as you replied, I’m just a cook,” she reminded with a cheeky grin. Then she added, “Of course it’s a big deal that you got back on a horse, Mac.” Another thought occurred. “Did riding help you decide anything?”

“Adele.” His glower scolded her. “I haven’t decided anything yet, even though my parents are as eager as you to know if I’ll take over running the place. Dad wants to retire.”

“I saw him in town. He looked tired,” she murmured sympathetically.

“He has to slow down and it’s obvious he can’t do that as long as they live on the ranch because he won’t leave anything to their hired man, who is eminently capable.” Mac raked his hand through his sandy-blond hair. “Me—take over the ranch—I don’t know.” His troubled sigh touched her.

“What concerns you most?” She could at least encourage him to talk about his fears.

“It’s a total life change.”

“Because you’ll miss flying.” She nodded.

“It’s not just that. You of all people should know that I haven’t been the most stable guy in the world. I wasn’t very good at after-school jobs, remember?”

“Because you wanted to be on the ranch.” She waited, knowing there was more.

“I also dumped college, remember?” His mouth tipped down in a self-deprecating frown. “And I blew my last job. But I’m not sure I’m ready to settle down yet.”

“You had to be responsible when you were flying, Mac,” she reminded. Something in his expression altered. Was it her reminder about flying? “Anyway, you just said the Double M has a capable ranch manager in Gabe Webber. He knows as much about ranching as your dad. Can’t you leave most of the routine stuff up to him? Isn’t that why ranchers have hired men?”

“I guess. You make it sound like I don’t even really need to be there.” Her bestie didn’t look at her, so Adele knew there was something else.

“Talk to me, Mac.”

“You’ve changed since you left The Haven, Delly.” Those gorgeous eyes of his seemed sad. “You’ve matured. I’m not sure I have. Not enough.”

“Why do you say that?” Surprised to see Mac fiddle with a napkin, she pressed him. “How have I matured? Do I look old?” Her glance in the kitchen mirror produced a laugh from Mac.

“No! But you’re more focused, more determined than before. Your plan took a hit with your breakup, but you haven’t given up. You’re going after a new dream. I don’t even have a dream.” His grin was wry.

“So dream one.”

“I wish I could. It’s just—flying is like living life on the edge,” he mused aloud, struggling to give words to his feelings. “If things get too boring or too staid I might regret taking on the Double M, or worse, make a mess of it, which will then make my parents ashamed of me.”

“Like that would ever happen. They’re so proud of you,” she praised. “And don’t think I have all the answers or any cast-in-stone plans. All I know is I can’t give up my motherhood dream.” Confused by Mac’s now-glowering look she asked, “Tell me about flying your jets. What was it like?”

Immediately his slouch disappeared. His backbone straightened and his shoulders came to attention. His turquoise eyes sparkled with excitement, as if someone had switched on a light inside him.

“Oh, Delly, it’s amazing. There’s such freedom—nothing’s scripted. You have to think fast and improvise to survive. When I’m soaring through the clouds I feel like I can handle anything. And then I land.” Just as suddenly the light in him was snuffed out. “I guess I’m addicted to that adrenaline rush.”

“You don’t think you’ll find that on the Double M?” Oh, Lord, how can I help him?

“Maybe I could.” He didn’t sound convinced. “If I hadn’t lost my hand or injured my leg.”

“Did you feel a thrill like that when you lived here before?” she wondered aloud.

“Sometimes. Mostly at the rodeo or when I was breaking a very stubborn horse.” Mac’s troubled face sent a pang through her. “Remember how if I got restless I took off to the mountains. If I needed excitement, I’d hike the badlands. Or ski the backcountry. Or climb where tourists never go.”

All very risky activities, Adele mentally noted. Was he running to or away from something?

“I don’t have those options anymore,” he muttered.

“Mac, you can still ski—”

“I don’t want to go to Marmot Basin and stand in line while people gawk at me as I struggle to figure out how to manipulate myself on and off the chair lift with one hand,” he interrupted bluntly, his face dark. “I don’t want to have to always have someone with me to watch out for me when I white-water raft or climb a rock face. If you want the truth, Delly, if I can’t have what I had, I just want to hide.” His shoulders slumped. “Maybe the ranch is the best place to do that.”

Shocked by the despair in his words and voice, Adele was at a loss. It was no use telling her pal that he’d figure it out or find something else to give him the same high. This was Mac. He’d always gotten his high from life lived on the edge, and now he felt he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dump my frustrations on you.” His hand covered hers and his gorgeous smile flashed, hiding the loss she’d seen revealed in his eyes mere moments earlier. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

“Stop it, Mac.” She jerked her hand from under his and rose, facing him as annoyance surged through her. “Stop pretending everything’s fine. I can take your honesty. I can’t take your fake acceptance of what life has handed you.”

To her complete exasperation he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, hands on hips.

“You and your honesty.” Mac shook his head. “Spicy, tart, yet sweet and always, always that blunt demand for honesty. You’re the only one who has never let me get away with anything, do you know that, Delly?”

Adele didn’t know what to say.

“Remember the night I was going to go hot-rodding and you made me pull over so you could get out?”

“Yes.” Adele mostly remembered how maddened she’d been.

“You were always the voice of reason,” he said softly, studying her face. “I used to hear your voice sometimes when I was flying.”

“No doubt right before you were about to try some silly stunt.” She shuddered at the fleeting thought of her world without Mac.

“Sometimes.” He looked at his damaged arm. When he spoke next his voice was very quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. “When I was going down the last time, I could almost hear you chewing me out for—”

“For what?” she nudged, curious to hear. But Mac’s face froze. He jerked to his feet.

“I need to get home. I should at least feed my own horses now that I’m back, not leave it to Dad.”

“Mac?” Adele waited until he was looking at her. “May I say something?” She smiled at his slow nod. “You can still do an awful lot, even take chances again, if you must. But maybe now you need to think ahead a bit more, plan it out. Set your goal, calculate the risk and decide if the payoff is big enough.”

“Ah, but spur-of-the-moment is half the fun, Delly.” His grin returned, as if the old Mac was back, but she knew it was a pretense. Unfortunately he left before she could think of a suitable comeback.

Adele began setting the table, her thoughts in a turmoil. The man was used to riding a roller coaster through life. He’d always thrived on action and if it wasn’t there, he’d created it. But Mac was bright, capable and adept at finding unconventional solutions to problems. She didn’t think that had changed.

What had changed was Mac’s fearlessness. The old Mac would never have cared if someone was watching him or not. He would have charged ahead and done what he wanted, gotten his thrill.

“I’m his friend, so somehow I have to help him see that ranching isn’t a dead end, that there’s still plenty of opportunity to live an exciting life on the Double M. But how do I do that, Lord?” she asked aloud. Past images of Mac with his precious miniature horses filled her mind. “Maybe I’ll start with them.”

Francie and Franklyn rushed into the room, raving about their story.

“It was about horses, huh?” Okay, God, I’m taking that as Your nudge. “How’d you like to go visit Mac on his ranch tomorrow? Maybe he’ll show you his horses. They’re just your size.”

Entranced by the prospect, the twins accepted the paper and crayons she offered and sat down on the window seat to draw pictures for Mac. When Jake arrived with the cabbage, the kids told him about their planned trip to the ranch.

“You’re really good at keeping them busy,” he said to Adele. “A born mom.”

“Hardly.” After Jake left, Adele put the finishing touches on the meal, but his words replayed in her head. Was she going to be a mom? She wanted that, so much.

All at once dreams of her children, her family gathered here at The Haven, grew full-blown. If she had a daughter, she’d be named Gina, for her sister.

You’ll be there for them, but who will be there for you?

Adele pushed away the painful thought. Right now, whatever was wrong, Mac needed her as his friend. She’d concentrate on that.

* * *

After dinner with his folks, Mac wandered outside, drawn automatically to his beloved miniature horses. They stood in a corner of their small paddock, huddled together against the cool of the autumn evening. At less than thirty-four inches tall they were the perfect height for petting. Their noses nuzzled him as if to say, “Welcome home.”

Delighted when two of his favorite mares began poking his pockets in search of the sugar lumps he always carried, Mac moved from animal to animal, bestowing the gift on each, totally at ease here, even without his other hand. Miniatures were so gentle. They didn’t prance or act up or need constant attention. They always seemed perfectly content to be exactly where they were. He envied them that.

Adele had phoned to say she was bringing the twins tomorrow. Since all eight of his miniatures were in excellent condition, Mac figured he’d saddle his two favorites and see if he could teach Francie and Franklyn to ride.

In another phone call tonight, Adele’s sister Victoria had again urged his dad to instigate a trail riding program for The Haven using the Double M’s horses. His father wasn’t interested but Mac was, especially after a glance at the ranch books. Their income needed a boost and since their ranch hand, Gabe, had experience using horses in an equine training program for kids, trail riding seemed doable.

If he took over the ranch...

“You be nice to Francie and Franklyn when they come,” Mac told his horses, veering away from making that decision, smoothing their backs as he spoke. “In the morning I’ll give you a special currying so you look good.”

Here among his pets, as he talked to them and smoothed their flanks, his restless soul slowly calmed and he could think more clearly. Was the Double M where he belonged? He wasn’t sure, and though he tried to pray about it, God’s leading seemed dulled by the guilt he felt.

“I want to do what the parents expect. I want to take over for them, give them a break, even keep their legacy going. But what if—”

And that was the problem in a nutshell. What if? What if he couldn’t take the lifestyle? What if he messed up the ranch like he’d messed up his copilot Dave’s life? And his own. What if he needed a bigger, better, faster thrill to satisfy the empty hole inside him? And what if because of Dave and that undeserved medal the military had issued him, Mac never got past the lump of guilt that lay in his gut like a ball of cement?

If he told Adele the whole truth, she’d push him to seek Dave’s forgiveness, make things right with his bosses. But giving back the medal would raise too many questions and revive the crash that he only wanted to forget. His parents would be ashamed and appalled by his behavior.

Dave wouldn’t be so willing to forgive the man who’d made him a paraplegic, either. Hearing his blame given voice would make the guilt ten times worse. Besides, what good would it do now? Mac had lost his hand. Dave had lost the use of his legs.

Frustrated and confused, thoughts muddled by too many questions without answers, Mac made sure the horses were safely enclosed, then walked back to the house. He was going to have to talk to Adele’s aunties soon. He needed their advice to figure out his future.

The hard part would be living up to Adele’s expectations.

Chapter Four

“Good old Snowball.” Adele laughed the following afternoon when, after not receiving a treat, the miniature horse stamped her hoof against the ground and whinnied. “Pretty girl doesn’t look much older than when I last saw her.”

“She’s a grandmother now.” Mac’s eyes softened as he patted the shaggy white horse. “Those are her children. Diver was her first. Then Flyer, both geldings. And this little one is Princess.”

“She looks like a Princess. I remember when Snowball was your first and only miniature.” Adele smiled as the dainty mama pushed her head against Franklyn’s shoulder.

“They’re like big dogs,” Franklyn squealed, backing away.

“They gots different colors.” Francie at least wasn’t afraid of the horses. “Why?”

“Different breeds.” Mac held Snowball’s bridle and encouraged the children to pet her.

“But those other horses don’t gots lots of colors. How come?” Francie’s focus was on the corral where the Double M’s full-size horses had gathered to watch them.

“I know why.” Adele thought that here among his pets Mac seemed totally content and at his most charming. “Lots of horse breeds allow only certain colors. But minis can have Appaloosa spots, pinto patches or tan buckskins with dark legs and manes and tails.”

“I’m impressed you remembered.” Mac grinned, then hunkered down to Francie’s level. “People who own miniature horses like all the colors. Some horse shows even have competitions for the most colorful miniatures.”

That grin—Adele drew in a calming breath. Why did she keep having these unusual reactions to Mac? He was just a friend, a good friend, but...

“Did your horses ever win?” a wide-eyed Franklyn wondered.

“Mac’s won tons of ribbons and trophies for his minis,” Adele told them proudly, then chastised herself. It wasn’t as if she’d helped him win them. All she’d done was be there to cheer him on.

“Would you like to ride one of my little horses, Francie?” Mac asked after the twins had petted each one.

“Can I?” The little girl’s eyes grew huge.

“I polished the saddles in case you’d want to.” Mac glanced at Adele, apparently noticing, like her, that Franklyn didn’t seem as enthusiastic about riding as his sister. “Would you mind waiting for your turn until after your sister has ridden?” he asked the boy.

Franklyn jerked his head in a quick nod of relief. Adele drew him with her to stand near the fence where they could listen in on Mac’s quick lesson to his sister.

“This is Esther. She likes to be ridden by children, though she hasn’t done it for a while.” Mac led the dappled mare toward a saddle flung over the top rail. With ease he grabbed it with his one hand and set it on Esther’s back, patiently explaining his actions to the curious twins as he quickly fastened the many buckles. “Okay, she’s ready. Are you?”

“I guess.” Francie’s face scrunched up. “How do I get on?”

“I’ll give you a boost and you swing your other leg over Esther’s back. Put your feet in these. They’re called stirrups. Ready?” At her nod he cupped his hand and encouraged her to put her foot in a stirrup and grab the saddle horn.

For Adele it was déjà vu. Mac had taught her to ride in exactly the same calm, assured way.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” Francie gave Adele an excited grin, then prepared for the next direction.

“Good. These are the reins. Hold them in your hand, not too tightly, and very gently press your heels against her side. That tells Esther to start walking,” Mac said. “Ready? Go.”

Adele noted how Mac kept his hand on the horse behind the saddle, either to calm the animal or reassure the child, or both. As Esther moved, he walked along beside her, constantly encouraging Francie. Though Adele knew he’d taught many kids to ride the larger Double M horses, as he’d taught her, she’d forgotten how gentle he was, correcting in a way that enhanced the experience for the rider. His entire focus was on Francie, anticipating her reactions and soothing her worries in an affectionate tone.

“Mac’s a good teacher, isn’t he?” The Double M’s foreman, Gabe Webber, stood behind Adele.

“Fabulous,” she murmured as Francie laughed. She didn’t know Gabe well, only that he was several years older than Mac and that he’d been born and raised on a ranch but had lost it all after his father died.

“I really hope your sister pushes him to try her trail ride idea. Mac needs a new venture to test his skills and help him forget his troubles.” Then Gabe tipped his hat and strode away.

What troubles? Adele didn’t get the impression the foreman was talking about Mac’s indecision about taking over the ranch, so what—

“Look at me, Delly!” Francie was riding by herself. Mac stood to one side, watching her intently but not interfering, though he did call out occasional directions.

Adele pulled out her phone and snapped several pictures, suddenly aware that she was including Mac in every frame. Well, why not? Francie should have memories of such a great teacher, she justified as she snapped several more. The one she liked best caught Mac midlaugh as the little girl whooped for joy.

“This one could ride the broncs, Delly,” he called to her, his grin wide.

Adele caught her breath. For a moment he looked exactly like the old Mac, carefree, enjoying the moment. Then his face grew more serious as he called a halt to the ride. Francie flung her arms around Mac’s neck as he helped her slide off, eyes shining with delight.

“Thank you. That was so fun!” She raced toward Adele and her brother. “You gotta try.”

“I think you’ll like it, Franklyn,” Mac said quietly when the boy hesitated.

After some cheering words from his sister and Mac’s repeated reassurances, which Adele knew were most effective because they had to do with the boy’s ability to brag that he’d been horseback riding, Franklyn tentatively walked forward. Though Adele couldn’t hear exactly what Mac said, as Franklyn climbed on the little horse he lost the trepidation she’d seen just moments before. Within seconds he was trotting around the paddock, calling encouragement to Esther and trying to one-up Francie.

Again Adele took a host of pictures, and again she included Mac in most of them. Then she took a final one, a close-up preserving Franklyn’s disappointed expression at the end of the session and Mac’s soft wistful smile. Mac and kids. He’d always adored them.

“When can I go again?” Francie’s eagerness was unmistakable.

“Another day for sure,” Mac said. “Want to say thank-you for the ride?”

“Horses don’t know people talk,” Francie asserted. Then, uncertainly, “Do they?”

“Yes.” When both kids frowned at Mac, he showed them the apples he’d left in a sack outside the pen and told the children to each get one. “They understand the tone of your voice, especially when you say thank-you.”

“Thank you for the ride, Esther.” Francie giggled as the horse snatched the apple, gobbled it down and then bumped her head against the little girl. Esther did the same with Franklyn.

“That’s how Esther says you’re welcome,” Mac told them with a chuckle.

Something inside Adele jumped for joy at the tender expression on his face as he brushed the horse’s shaggy mane with his hand. It had been the right choice to come here with the kids. This was the real Mac, not that pretend person who wanted her to believe he was fine.

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