A Dad for Her Twins Read Online Free

concern Abby saw on his face. How wonderful it felt to have someone worry about her, even for a moment. “I’m not your problem, Cade. I’ll figure out something.” As if she hadn’t tried. He didn’t need to know that, although he’d probably guessed she was out of options.
    â€œMax said you were a social worker.”
    â€œI am.” Abby leaned back, closed her eyes and smiled. “The day I learned in third grade that not every kid had parents like mine was the day I decided I was going to be the one to help kids find the best parents they could. It’s a job I love. I’d still be doing it, too, if the government hadn’t cut back and laid me off.”
    Abby could feel his sympathy, could see it in the softening of his baby-blue eyes. The rancher was big and comfortable and—nice, she decided, choosing the simple word. Cade was genuinely nice.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he murmured.
    â€œI’m sorry, too,” she said, trying to disguise the sourness that sometimes bubbled inside. “There aren’t any less children who need help. And there are even fewer workers to handle all the cases. But—” She shrugged. “What can I do? I was out of work and I couldn’t find another job, no matter how hard I looked.”
    â€œAnd then you learned you were pregnant.” Cade looked straight at her. “That must have been a frightening time, to be alone, without a job, knowing you’re going to have twins. I wish you’d told me when I called. I would have come to help you, you know.”
    â€œI do know.” Touched, she reached out to brush his hand with her fingers, to comfort him. “But I felt I had to handle things on my own.”
    Abby’s heart melted as she watched Cade helplessly rake a hand through his very short black hair. His lean, chiseled face had lost some of its harshness, though the lines around his eyes and full lips remained and the cleft in his chin deepened with his frown.
    â€œIt’s okay, Cade,” she murmured.
    â€œIt isn’t okay at all. Max would never have allowed you to handle this alone.” His voice tightened, dropped to a low growl. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Abby.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just a problem I have to figure out.” She was glad their server brought their meals just then. Maybe eating would ease the strain that was building and help them both avoid awkward, useless moments of regret. She scrounged up a smile. “I haven’t had a turkey dinner in aeons,” she said, licking rich gravy off her fork.
    â€œChristmas wasn’t that long ago.” Cade paused, lifted his head and stared at her. His pupils widened. “You didn’t have Christmas dinner, did you?” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh, Abby.”
    She’d made him feel guilty again. She knew because she carried her own load. But she didn’t want Cade’s guilt. So what did she want? Because Abby didn’t want to explore that thought she set down her fork and reassured him.
    â€œActually I did have Christmas dinner, Cade. I’ve been volunteering at a kids’ shelter and they served a lovely meal.” She chuckled. “But I didn’t have much time to enjoy it.”
    â€œWhy?” Cade crunched on a pickle as he waited for her to explain.
    â€œOne of the kids ran away, so we went looking for her.” Abby liked the way Cade chewed slowly, appreciating the nuances of flavor in his food. “Searching took most of the day. By the time we found her, I was too tired to eat. Anyway, everything was cold.”
    She picked up her fork and chose a square of dark meat. Fork midway to her mouth, she blinked and paused, suddenly uneasy under his scrutiny. “What?”
    â€œCan I ask you something?” He waited for her nod, forehead furrowed, his left hand, the