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CHAPTER FOUR (#u4c1dd979-e42f-549f-9259-52b654d85705)
THE NEXT MORNING Jenna drove out to the McMann ranch. If that’s painful, you don’t have to spend time with them, Shadow had said, and keeping her commitment to Amy was harder each time she saw the twins. She’d had a near panic attack on the way out here and had to pull over until her pulse settled. The bittersweet sorrow she felt whenever she held Amy’s babies—part grief for her friend who would never see them grow up, part grief for herself that these sweet babies weren’t hers—was something she had to manage. But these visits also filled her heart.
She was surprised to find Hadley at the ranch. On a weekday he should be working at the NLS. Too bad she hadn’t driven by the ranch this time to check if his truck was there.
Jenna took a deep breath. She imagined he wasn’t any happier to see her than she was to see him. Taking the bag from Sherry’s shop off the seat, she got out of her car with a growing sense of dread, then started toward the house. She’d hoped he wouldn’t follow, but Hadley fell into step beside her.
“I can take that,” he said. “Luke and Gracie are napping.”
“I’ll wait for them to wake up. Maybe Clara has time for a cup of coffee. I like to watch her open my gifts for the twins.”
“Maybe on your next visit,” Hadley said. “If you turn around now, head back to town, I’ll tell Clara you dropped off the presents.”
Jenna groaned. First, he’d wanted to bring the package home from the store. Now he hoped to send her on her way without seeing the twins. But she was saved from having to respond. Clara appeared in the doorway with a broad smile and waved at her. “I have pecan coffee cake and a fresh pot. Hadley?” she said. “Will you join us?”
He stopped. “Thanks, but I was about to start cleaning out the barn. After that I’ll mend the corral gate. Should keep me busy most of the day.”
Jenna guessed he was helping Clara get ready to sell the ranch. She climbed the steps and went into the house, leaving him there on the walk. The door shut behind her, and Jenna followed Clara into the kitchen. The smells of brown sugar and butter and rich, dark coffee invited her in, and as Clara poured coffee, then set cream and sugar on the table beside the fragrant cake, Jenna cocked an ear for any sound from upstairs.
She handed Clara the gift bag. “Wait till you see these,” she said, a soft ache starting in her heart. She stirred milk into her coffee while Clara tore open the first package wrapped in pink kitten paper. To Jenna’s own surprise, it didn’t contain the yellow sundress. “No,” she murmured, “that’s for Luke. Sherry must have gotten the outfits mixed up.”
“Or she doesn’t buy into the notion of pink for girls, blue for boys.”
It didn’t matter, of course. Clara oohed and ahhed over Luke’s pastel playsuit and blue sneakers, then studied the label. “Dear me, this will be too small. Luke outgrew the three-month size. Could you exchange it, Jenna, for the next one up? Even nine months might be better. I hate to inconvenience you—”
“I’d be happy to exchange them.” Why hadn’t she thought of a bigger size? But Jenna had little experience with growing babies, and recently she’d bought mostly toys. “Grace’s present, too,” she said. “You don’t even need to open it.”
Clara did anyway. She took great pleasure in examining the yellow sundress that had been wrapped in blue paper, one finger tracing the satin ribbon trim that wound through the bottom hem. “She’ll look adorable in this. Thank you.” Her eyes grew moist. “I’m so pleased Hadley has decided to stay here with them.”
Jenna straightened. “I heard you were going to sell.”
“I was, but Hadley lost his job at the NLS and decided to get this place going again instead of leaving or finding another job. How could I say no? If he succeeds, I’ll be able to keep my home, and the babies will have one, too. Next week he’ll look into buying our first cows.”
The announcement startled Jenna. Was this good or bad for her? On one hand, the twins would still be here, and Jenna could keep checking on them as well as on Hadley. On the other, she would have to put up with him. And vice versa. His attitude wouldn’t make things easy.
Clara studied her over the rim of her coffee cup, raised halfway to her mouth. “I’ve noticed you and Hadley aren’t exactly friends, but that man doesn’t know what he needs.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Hadley Smith Amy described.”
“You believe everything she told you?”
“That sounds naive, doesn’t it?” But Jenna recalled the evenings she’d spent with Amy, hearing the other woman’s complaints about Hadley, relating their quarrels—which might or might not have happened as she said. Amy’s tears had been real, though, and not simply due to pregnancy hormones. Jenna had witnessed for herself how quickly Hadley’s temper flared. Because of her father, she knew all about how harmful that could be to a young person, and she’d definitely keep her eye on Hadley.
Clara cocked her head to listen for a moment. “Ah, Luke’s up. Grace will be, too. That little imp never lets his sister sleep once he’s awake.”
Wondering about her blind acceptance of Amy’s stories, Jenna sat motionless in her chair at the table after Clara had left the room. The older woman returned a few minutes later carrying one twin on each bony hip.
Jenna couldn’t seem to move. This wasn’t the first time she’d become paralyzed at the sight of them, not the first time she’d wanted to pull back inside herself for protection, but Clara was having none of that.
“Here we are!” she said brightly. “Which little angel do you want first?”
Jenna thought of leaving before sorrow threatened to swamp her again. Then she remembered Hadley on the front walk obviously wanting her to go. And oh, how sweet they were! Grace with her fine features and rose-gold hair curling at her nape, Luke who was bigger with a sturdy frame and similar coloring, although his hair seemed to be getting darker. Being of different sexes, they were fraternal, not identical, twins, and so lovable just for being here that her heart turned over.
Her hands twitched with the urge to hold them. When Clara plunked Grace on her lap, Jenna’s mouth went dry.
Grace wriggled in her embrace, then patted one tiny hand to Jenna’s cheek, the baby’s face bright as if she had no doubt she was welcome in Jenna’s arms, and Jenna’s throat closed. “She’s smiling.”
“They’ve been smiling since they were born, if you ask me. People say that’s only gas, but I don’t believe it. They laugh now, too. And you should see how Grace fixates on Hadley as if he’s the one person in the world she can rely on.”
“Amy wasn’t as sure about that,” Jenna murmured, yet she couldn’t deny that since Amy’s death he’d stepped up to the plate. Hadley seemed to work hard and provide for them as best he could—in fact, she heard him hammering something down at the barn—yet the news that he intended to rebuild Clara’s ranch stunned her. If he really meant to stay longer, Jenna’s visits would be enough to fulfill her promise to Amy, yet he’d probably continue to object to Jenna’s very presence.
“I know he’s never been one to settle down,” Clara went on, “but he has more reason now to sink a few roots.” She shifted Luke, who was trying to grab the pan of coffee cake off the table. “Time will tell,” she said with a meaningful look at Jenna.
HADLEY COULDN’T PUT it off any longer. Ever since that tragic day at the hospital he had been meaning to look through Amy’s belongings and tonight seemed good enough. He admitted he’d been avoiding the task. If he and the babies were going to stay on the ranch for a while, he shouldn’t keep stalling. He also wanted to take a look at the standby guardianship application Amy had filed. Even though the court hearing had never taken place, the situation with Jenna was still an issue. He didn’t buy that her only reason for spending time with Luke and Gracie was some promise she’d made to Amy. He’d caught the melting look on her face more than once when she was with them. Now that their mother was gone, could she have some legal claim to his babies? And had she been biding her time, hoping to catch him in some misdeed with the twins?
“Clara, have you seen the bins with Amy’s stuff in them?” he asked after dinner.
“I believe they’re in the attic,” she said.
Being careful not to wake the twins, Hadley went upstairs, then sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the walk-up area under the roof beams. He forced himself to open the first bin and rummage through Amy’s things. When he’d moved from their apartment, he hadn’t taken time to sort out what to toss and what to keep for Luke and Gracie someday. Disoriented by Amy’s shocking death, by his new obligations, he’d thrown everything into bins for later. From then on, he’d had his hands full just trying to be a good dad when good wasn’t in his nature.
The first item he came across was the bifold program from Amy’s funeral at the local church. It was the same place where, at her insistence, they’d been married, and where she’d sometimes attended services on Sundays. Without him. Hadley had resisted most of her attempts to change him from a bad boy into a solid citizen, something he now regretted, just as he regretted not trying harder to love her. She’d deserved better from him.
With a hard lump in his throat, Hadley skimmed the program, then the small picture of her at the top. “Way too soon,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her image as if he could touch her again. “Never mind all those fights we had. As you told me, there were good times, too, in the beginning. Not sure what would have happened to us if you were still here,” he said, “but we’ll never know, will we?”
Now he was on his own, plowing through her belongings in Clara’s attic.
“Hadley?” Her voice came from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m here still. Come up if you want.”
To be truthful, he didn’t like doing this alone. Every piece of paper he touched, every sympathy card and article of clothing he’d saved, spoke to him. Amy’s favorite green sweater, which he couldn’t bring himself to touch, the one she’d knitted herself with the too-long sleeves that always made him smile for her effort. The baby books she’d bought because “I don’t know any more about this than you do.” The last birthday gift he’d given her, a certificate for a day at the spa in Farrier that she’d never gotten to use. Like the court order she’d never completed, which he wouldn’t have signed off on. As Jenna well knew.
Clara laid a hand on his shoulder. “If this is too difficult for you, maybe I could find what you’re looking for.”
“No,” he said, “I did my grieving.” Hadley had cried himself to sleep that first horrid night, something he’d never admit to anyone. Until then he hadn’t shed a tear since the first time his parents had dumped him and Dallas on child services and, later, when he’d watched his brother be taken away because of him. He’d cried about Amy, whose short life had been cut off so abruptly before she even saw their babies, cried for the mess he’d made of their relationship and for the twins he’d been left to care for—he, who would probably be the worst father any kid ever had, though he hadn’t been able to leave them with anyone else. Including Jenna Moran. “One of the worst parts,” he told Clara, “is Amy never knowing Luke and Gracie. Not watching them grow up, graduate from school, get married…”
“But you will, Hadley. For her. I’m sure wherever she is she appreciates that.”
His voice sounded hoarse. “At least they have the names she chose for them.”
Clara’s hand gently stroked his shoulder, and he guessed she had trouble speaking, too.
“I need to find some papers,” he told her. When Amy had mentioned the application for guardianship, Hadley had paid little attention except to give her a flat no. He wouldn’t agree to that. Now he wished he’d read everything. “I don’t understand all the double-talk legalese about standby guardianship, but I have to work out what all that means.”
Clara hadn’t responded before his fingers closed over the manila file in which he remembered Amy putting some papers. Then she’d shut the file away in a drawer. When Hadley had packed up after she was gone, he hadn’t looked at it. Her death had still been too raw for him to face his own failure in that regard. He peered into the file now. It contained a few documents like their marriage license. “The guardianship stuff isn’t here.”
Clara examined the papers in the file, too, but also came up empty. “Maybe Amy had a safe-deposit box somewhere.”
Was that possible? Then why not store all the important papers there? He supposed there might be layers to Amy that he knew nothing about. As a minor example, Hadley could never reconcile their bank and credit card statements with the purchases she’d made, and whenever he questioned her she’d told him not to worry.
Hadley rose, his knees popping from sitting too long. “I’ll check with Barney Caldwell at the bank tomorrow.”
Hadley needed to find out what he was up against.
WAS IT JENNA’S bad luck, or some kind of weird karma? The very next morning when she walked up to the main entrance of the Barren Cattlemen’s Bank, Hadley reached around her to open the door. Without glancing up, Jenna coolly thanked him. “Have a good day,” she added, then went straight for Barney Caldwell’s office. As vice president, he had a window that looked onto Main Street, and more than once she’d glimpsed him peering out to see what was going on in town and with whom.
Hadley was right behind her—again.
“You seeing Barney, too?” he asked, not taking a chair in the waiting area.
“I’m applying for a loan,” she said, “to invest in Fantastic Designs.” Jenna still had no clients. She needed capital to jump-start her business. And because of that, she would have to deal with Barney. Some women in town called him creepy, and he’d recently sent her several cryptic messages she’d never answered. What was Hadley saying…?
“That’s not a bad idea. Clara and I should try that.”
Which wasn’t why he was here now then. Jenna tamped down her curiosity. Her only interest, she reminded herself, was in the twins. Remembering how she’d held them in her arms yesterday, she felt quivery and soft inside as she had all the way home.
Barney, who’d been at his desk poring over some papers, came to his doorway. “Who’s first?”
“Go ahead,” Hadley said with a motion toward Jenna. “I can wait.”
“No, please. I’ll probably have to fill out a dozen forms.” And she wasn’t eager to be alone with Barney. In school he’d had a crush on her, the memory of which still embarrassed Jenna.
“Well, I shouldn’t be long,” Hadley said. “Just have a question.”
Barney, his short-cut hair the color of hazelnuts, clapped a hand on Hadley’s shoulder, a gesture that seemed to make Hadley tense. “Have a seat. Ask away.” The door shut behind them.
Jenna tried not to observe their interaction, but it wasn’t long before Hadley’s dark brows drew together over his piercing blue eyes. He juggled a brass paperweight from Barney’s desk, then set it down again. They exchanged a few more words. Then Hadley abruptly rose from his slouch in the small barrel-shaped chair and stalked to the door. He jerked it open. “You’d better hear this,” he said to her.
Following him into the office, Jenna took the chair Hadley had vacated. He stood next to her while Barney straightened the papers he’d been reading earlier. He studied her with his too-small eyes. “Hadley has asked me about his wife’s relationship with this bank. It appears he didn’t know she had an account—in addition to their joint checking—in her name alone.”
That wasn’t unusual; many women had their own accounts. So had Jenna during her marriage. “Yes, I remember that.” She glanced at Hadley. “Amy once told me about a bank account, but that’s all she said.”
Barney said, “She opened the account some time ago.” He checked the dates.
“Soon after we got married then,” Hadley said.
“And Amy deposited money each month.”
“Where did she get it? We never had extra.”
“I believe, um, her parents sent the checks.”
“It’s like she was married to them, not me,” Hadley muttered. “Why would she keep that secret? Because she worried that I might leave her high and dry?”
To Jenna, that didn’t seem so unlikely.
Barney fidgeted in his chair. “Maybe her family wanted Amy to know she could use the money if she ever needed to—”
“Because she was married to a guy like me,” Hadley said under his breath.
Jenna looked from him to Barney, whose gaze had fixed on his computer screen as if its contents were written in Sanskrit. “But what does all this have to do with me?”
Barney glanced up. “Not long before she gave birth, Amy amended the account to include a POD—payable on death provision. Which avoids probate. When the primary account holder dies, the money in the account goes straight to the named beneficiary. In this case to you, Jenna.”
How could that be? “But if I’m the beneficiary, why wasn’t I notified after her…death?”
Barney frowned. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for some time,” he said, “but you didn’t respond to any of my messages. Or the letters on official bank stationery.”
“I thought those were merely forms to solicit investment.” She’d thrown the letters away, unopened. The funds from her divorce settlement were earmarked for savings to buy a house, and Jenna didn’t want to risk losing any of that.
“My next attempt was going to be knocking on your door,” Barney said. “Which I intended to do until you came in this morning.”
“Doesn’t sound to me like you tried hard enough.” Hadley glanced at him, taking in his dark suit and conservative tie. Barney might look the part of a vice president, but he wasn’t known for his management skills or much else. He lived with his overbearing mother and was inclined to startle at his own shadow. “What do you do? Shuffle papers all day then go home at four o’clock? You’ve read those—” Hadley pointed at the stack of printouts on the desk “—three times since I walked in. Bet you couldn’t tell me what a single line said.”
“Are you calling me negligent? Pardon me, but I couldn’t force Jenna to answer my messages.”
“Pardon me,” Hadley said, “if I call you a liar.”
Surprised that he’d defended her, Jenna held up a hand. “Please. This isn’t getting us anywhere. If I understand, Amy’s accounts are now mine to control?”
“Yes. And the amount is substantial.” Barney read a figure aloud that made Jenna’s eyes widen. Amy had complained several times about her money woes with Hadley when all along she’d had access to these funds. Amy hadn’t trusted him. As for Jenna, she had to admit she’d been avoiding Barney and couldn’t blame him for this misunderstanding. An oversight on her part.
“But why me and not her parents?” she asked.
“I can’t say. She made that change in the account with my assistant.” Barney cleared his throat. He turned to Jenna and handed her a thin sheaf from the stack. “You’re authorized, at your discretion, to use the account for the sole benefit of Lucas and Grace Smith.”
In other words, Amy had again provided for her children’s welfare in case Hadley disappeared when they were born. As she read, Jenna twisted her fingers together. She shot a look at Hadley. Their quasi-relationship wasn’t friendly, as Clara had noted, not that she wanted it to be, but this new detail would make things worse. Now she wouldn’t simply be paying a few visits to the twins; she’d be managing a rather large pot of money for them, overriding Hadley as their father. At least in his view.
His gaze bored through her, his eyes shards of blue glass.
Jenna stood. “This isn’t my doing, Hadley.”
“Like your agreement with Amy about the standby guardianship?”
“You can’t think I put her up to that,” Jenna said. Barney fidgeted at his desk, his face a dull red. A glance through the glass window into the bank revealed several people, including a teller, staring at them. “We’re making a scene.”
“I don’t care. Obviously, Amy agreed with everybody else in this town that I’m not to be trusted with my own children.”
Hadley turned, yanked open the door, then stalked from the office. “Like it or not, which I’m sure you don’t, Jenna, I’ll have something to say about this money.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#u4c1dd979-e42f-549f-9259-52b654d85705)
WHEN THE SUN went down, Hadley was still fuming. He imagined that the red ball of fire sliding toward the horizon, as if to define the western edge of Clara’s ranch in the blaze of color, might draw him with it. Hadley would slip right over the boundary of her pancake-flat land like a man falling—or jumping—into an active volcano, then vanish from the twins’ lives. That would probably suit Jenna.
The rare spurt of self-pity lasted just long enough to remind him that he didn’t have the luxury of thinking about himself.
Before Barney had revealed the surprise bank account, he’d told Hadley that Amy did not have a safe-deposit box at the bank. So the location of the guardianship papers was still a mystery, and now he had a different problem. The threat Jenna posed as the beneficiary of Amy’s account. He felt hamstrung. He didn’t want anyone else in charge, especially a woman with no blood ties to the twins; he could take care of his own babies.
