Her Secret Twins. Janette Foreman

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