Her Montana Twins. Carolyne Aarsen
Mom,” she said, guilt falling like a familiar weight on her shoulders. “I should have come here at lunchtime instead of going to the café.”
Her mother waved off her objections and smiled. “You needed the break. Your father came and helped me with the children. We had fun, though I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean up.”
Hannah took in the toys scattered around the apartment with its mismatched furniture given to her by friends and people from the community. When she imagined becoming a mother and bringing grandchildren into her parents’ lives, this was not the picture she had envisioned.
“And how was your day?” her mother repeated.
“It was busy,” Hannah replied, nuzzling Chrissy, who lay quietly in her arms now, her chubby hands clutching at Hannah’s sweater. “We received far more people signing up for the fair than originally estimated.”
“That will be good. I just hope the committee doesn’t listen to all those people who want to fix the bridge,” her mother said as she folded her arms over her chest. “I much prefer to see the museum we had talked about for so long finally getting built. We don’t need that bridge,” her mother continued. “Some things are better left alone.”
Hannah pressed a kiss to Corey’s damp head, making a noncommittal sound. The entire bridge versus museum controversy and where the fund-raising money should go was starting to split the community. As an employee of the town, Hannah had found it best to simply listen and not get drawn into either side of the discussion.
“Did you get to the park today?” Hannah asked, diverting her mother’s attention elsewhere. The sun, shining through the windows of town hall had taunted her all day and, once again, made her wish she didn’t have to work. Made her wish she could live off the small pension she received from the military. Because David had barely graduated training and because he had signed up for the minimum of life insurance, Hannah was managing by the thinnest of margins. David’s insurance payout was in a savings account she slowly added to each month.
In a year or so she might have enough saved up to buy her and her children a little house. Their own place. The twins would have a yard and be able to play outside. Though her parents had offered for her to move in with them, she valued her independence too much. In the meantime, she made do with this apartment and working as much as she dared.
“No. Chrissy was tired,” her mother said. “And I just wanted to stay in the apartment.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Hannah said. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”
“I know, honey.” Her mother sighed as she stood. “I wished I could have gone out with them, but there it is.” She glanced over at the tiny kitchen beside them. “And I didn’t do the dishes from lunch, either. By the time I got the children down for their nap, I needed one myself.”
Hannah waved off her concern, fighting her own weariness and another surge of guilt. “I don’t expect you to do everything,” Hannah said. “I’m just thankful you and Dad help out as much as you do.”
“We’re glad we can do this for you.” Leaning over, she brushed a gentle kiss over Hannah’s cheek. “You’ve been such a brave girl, dealing with losing David. Never a word of complaint.” Her mother kissed each of the twins in turn and then straightened. “You know we pray for you every day when your father and I have our devotional time.”
“I know.” This created another flush of shame. The only prayers Hannah seemed to have time for were the panicky ones that were either please, please, please or thank you, thank you, thank you. Her faith life, of late, had become fallow and parched. “And someday I’ll make it back to church.” She wouldn’t soon forget the last time she had made the attempt with her toddlers in tow. It had been a disaster.
“I know you will.” Her mother gave her a smile, then walked over to the closet by the front door to collect her coat. “I’d better get going. I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, and then, with another wave, her mother left.
The apartment felt suddenly empty. Hannah fought down the usual twinge of loneliness and clutched her babies tighter. She had her kids. She had her family.
That should be enough.
She set the twins down on the floor to play, but as she stood to clean the kitchen, she stopped by the window overlooking Main Street and the fire station across the street from the hardware store.
Images of Brody Harcourt slipped through her mind. She shook them off. Brody was better matched with a young, pretty girl who had no attachments. No history.
And she was better off with someone more solid and settled.
If she could ever find anyone like that who would also be willing to take on another man’s children.
Such a silly dream, she thought, turning away from the window and back to her reality.
Brody parked his truck in front of his cabin, turned off his engine and dragged his hands over his face as if smoothing out his thoughts.
All the way back to the ranch he had been thinking about what Dylan had said about David. When he heard Hannah was planning the fair, he was the one who had pitched the idea to his buddies at the fire station to set up a booth. All so he could find a reason to go talk to her.
When Rusty told him that Hannah was the secretary of the Time Capsule Committee, he thought this was another opportunity.
Then Dylan had told him what he had about David and once again Brody felt he was wasting his time.
He looked over at his parents’ house perched up on the hill. His father had built it for his mother after they had talked about expanding the ranch. Brody had been dating a girl he met in Bozeman and he thought things were getting serious between them and he and his father started making plans for the future. Trista was perfect in every way. Young. Pretty. Loved the ranch. Loved horses. Loved him. Or so he’d thought until her old boyfriend came back into town and she started pulling away. Brody had no desire to play second fiddle to anyone, so they both decided it was best if they broke up.
His mother had been more brokenhearted than he had been. Which made him wonder just how much he had cared for Trista.
He had dated a couple of girls since then but nothing seemed to take. Somehow, in some twisted part of his mind, he compared every woman he ever met to Hannah.
Then David died.
Brody had bided his time, giving her space, and thought maybe now was the time. He had figured wrong.
Brody got out of the truck, a chilly breeze fingering down his neck. Fall was coming and with it the work of gathering the cattle.
He stepped inside his cabin and dropped the mail he had picked up on a table just inside the door. He was about to leave again but took a moment, looking around the interior, trying to see it through others’ eyes.
Hannah’s eyes?
It was the main ranch house when his parents moved here, but the family had only lived here until a new, larger home was built. When Brody graduated high school, he’d moved back here, preferring to have his own place. Though he had spent a number of years away from Jasper Gulch, traveling, he always knew he would come back to the ranch to stay. For the past six years this cabin had been his home.
An old leather couch, chair and love seat, all cast off from his parents, crowded around a woodstove in the living room. Opposite them stood a table with four mismatched chairs parked under a large window overlooking the ranch. The kitchen area was to his right. It had a few cabinets and a fridge and stove, also taken from his parents’ home when they upgraded and renovated the main ranch house. Between the dining and living area was a hallway leading to two small rooms and a bathroom/laundry room.
For a moment he wondered what Hannah