Accidental Dad. Lois Richer

in front of the little boy then took his tiny hand and shook it. “I’m very pleased to make your—ooh.” She glanced at her hand, made a face then wiped her fingers on her pant leg amid the twins’ giggles.

      “Jacob Samuel drools,” Sadie informed her.

      “A lot,” Emma added.

      “Thank you. I’ll remember that.” Kelly looked around, taking in Marina’s kitchen, her home. She suddenly looked so lost, Sam felt a rush of pity.

      “Do you two want to see what I brought for you?” he asked the twins.

      Sadie yelled “yes” and both girls jumped up and down with excitement. No doubt he’d hear about their unseemly behavior from Arabella later, but for now their happy excitement sounded like music to Sam’s ears. He handed them each a box, received a hug and then watched as the girls opened their gifts, dolls he’d bought in the airport store, oohing and ahhing over them as they lifted them free of the tissue paper while Kelly stood watching with a smile on her face.

      “Arabella, this is for you and Neil. A small token to say thanks for helping my parents with the kids.” He took the baby from her in trade for a huge box of the brand of candy he knew she favored. “Where are my parents, by the way?”

      “At your father’s medical appointment. Your mother thought it best to keep to his schedule,” Arabella said in quiet tones, her gaze on Kelly.

      “I think so, too,” Sam agreed, relieved to see that nothing had happened while he was away. “So what’s been happening?”

      “Oscar said we got two new babies in the barn, Uncle Sam.” Emma was entranced by the ranch animals.

      “Where did you see Oscar?” he asked sharply. Hadn’t Arabella been watching? Surely the twins hadn’t gone out to the barn—fear crept up his spine.

      “I seed him when me an’ Sadie builded our snowmen,” Emma murmured. “We got carrots for the noses an’ I used one of your hats. Grannybell said it was ’propri—” She frowned and turned to her twin. “What was that word?”

      “I dunno.” Sadie was too busy removing the clothes from her doll to even look up.

      “Appropriate?” Kelly asked with an amused wink at Sam.

      “Yeah.” After Sam told her he had indeed noticed their snowman’s hat, Emma crouched down beside her sister, and the two immediately launched into playtime.

      “What do they call your mother?” Kelly asked curiously.

      “Gran,” he said and winked. “As opposed to Grannybell for your mom.”

      “Cute.” As Kelly glanced around, he noticed her backpack still lay at her feet.

      “Come on. I’ll show you where you can stow your stuff.” He picked up the pack and led the way to the back bedroom, next to the twins’. “Is this okay?” he asked, wishing he’d thought of dusting the spare room. “Your parents have the master bedroom. Marina thought it was easier for them with the attached bath.”

      “This is fine.” She glanced around once, then her gaze returned to him. “You said your parents are staying here, too?”

      “No, they’re at my place.” He walked to the window, drew back the curtain and pointed. “Over there. See?” he said with a burst of pride swelling inside at the log structure he’d built mostly by himself from felling the trees to choosing the admittedly masculine decor. “They were in a place in town, sort of a practice run before buying a condo in the city, but it was too far away. This is better. I can check on them anytime.”

      “Good idea.” Kelly’s focus seemed to be on the empty walls.

      “Something wrong?” he asked.

      “Just wondering why Marina never hung anything in here.” She shrugged. “The walls are all blank. I remember she always used to like to hang her pictures everywhere.”

      “They were full of Marina’s pictures. She’d become an excellent photographer.” Sam chose his words carefully. “Your mother’s had a hard time dealing with her death. I came back one day to find she’d taken everything down. She said she couldn’t bear to look at the wasted potential of her talent. That’s partly why I suggested they move upstairs. No memories there because Jake and Marina just had it renovated.”

      “But Mom removed other stuff, didn’t she?” Kelly’s pointed look made Sam realize there was no point in prevaricating. Her next words confirmed that. “I noticed the living room has discolored paint where I’m guessing a family or wedding picture used to hang.” Her lips tightened. “She shouldn’t have touched them. I’ll ask her not to do it anymore.”

      “I’ve already told her not to,” he admitted.

      “Really?” Kelly stared at him. “You told my mother—” She stopped, a dazed look stretching her eyes wide.

      “I had to. I want her to feel comfortable here, but I also want this to remain the kids’ home,” Sam explained. “Too many changes all at once aren’t good for them. Your mother disagrees. She thinks they should forget as fast as they can.”

      “It’s what she did with her own parents’ deaths when we were little. We couldn’t talk about our grandparents at all, though we had some very good memories.” Kelly’s sad face made Sam want to reassure her just as she’d reassured the twins. “That’s how she deals with life’s problems. Or at least it was when I lived at home.”

      “Maybe she’ll get better,” he soothed, doubting it.

      “Thank you for understanding.” Kelly’s smile made it clear she knew he was soft-pedaling her mother’s indignant reaction. “I’m sure she hasn’t made it easy for you. I’m surprised she didn’t push to have the funerals before I arrived.”

      “We need your input,” was all he would admit. He smiled. “I was hoping you’d agree we should have them at their church, the one I showed you in town, and fairly soon. We all need the chance to say goodbye.” He touched her arm, hating to cause her pain, but knowing it was inevitable. “I’d like to have one funeral for both of them on Saturday. Is that okay with you?”

      “That’s only two days away.” He saw the tears well, but Kelly gulped, lifted her chin and nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

      “Exactly what you just did, which is to take care of the kids. Listen to them when they want to talk. Comfort them, reassure them that they are loved and cared for.” He had to say it. “I don’t want Sadie and Emma to hear one word from anyone about not staying here on the ranch.”

      “Why aren’t me and Emma stayin’ here, Uncle Sam? Don’t you want us no more?”

      Sam wheeled around with a silent groan. Sadie stood in the doorway, her face drawn up in a frown.

      “You’re gonna send us away, aren’t you, Uncle Sam?” she asked and then began to howl as if she was seriously injured.

      Sam looked at Kelly and silently begged, Help me!

      * * *

      Kelly recognized grief, weariness and sadness in Sam’s silent appeal. Poor guy was swamped with trying to keep the world going for everyone, including her. Kelly had to act. She scooped Sadie into her arms, set her on the bed then sat down beside her.

      “Hush now. I want to ask you something, Sadie.”

      “’Kay,” was the hiccupped response.

      “Do you know Uncle Sam very well?” Kelly asked.

      “O’ course. He’s Daddy’s brother.” Sadie frowned at the obviousness of that, but at least she’d stopped crying, and now her blue eyes widened with curiosity.

      “Yes, but is Uncle Sam mean?” Kelly waited for Sadie to shake her head. “Does he do bad things?” Again the shake. “But I