Rachel coughed softly into her fist, standing there awkwardly, like she wasn’t sure what to do next, which only served to make Grant suspicious. What was going on and why wouldn’t she come in?
He was about to ask when the phone in his pocket chimed. Cell service was nonexistent out here, so it had to be Kallie’s Wi-Fi. Hmm, an email. How about that? His phone remembered this place and had automatically connected.
Quietly he excused himself to check the email. As he did, Kallie scurried out onto the porch, her voice hushed as she asked something of Rachel.
Who knew what they were discussing. Turning his attention to the phone, Grant opened his inbox. The email was from Will Parker, his contact for the Helping Hands board of directors, responding to Grant’s question of whether or not they’d held their meeting yet—the one they were supposed to have last week in order to okay the plans for the facility’s office rebuild, which they’d lost in a fire earlier this year. Something had postponed last week’s meeting, though he didn’t know what, and they’d promised to hold a new one today.
Grant,
No meeting yet. Waiting on some measures to finalize before we meet. Perhaps next week.
—Will
Grant frowned. Not the answer he’d anticipated, for sure. He tapped out a reply.
Finalize measures? What kind of measures?
Kallie opened the screen door, so Grant slipped his phone into his jeans pocket. He froze in his movement, though, when he noticed her hefting one of the carrier seats. Rachel came in behind her with the other one.
Okay, so maybe she was staying for a visit after all.
Grant stepped out of the way, watching the two women head to the living room and unload two dark-haired babies onto the carpet. A boy crawled toward a stuffed giraffe Kallie handed him, and a girl toddled quickly after him before also dropping to her knees.
“Well,” Rachel glanced hesitantly at Grant before sending Kallie a look, “I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Thanks for watching the kids, Rach.”
Grant blinked. Wait, what?
Rachel brushed thick hair over her shoulder, and inched back toward the screen door, peeking at Grant as she retreated past him. “Safe trip back to Iowa.”
“Um, thanks.” He watched her go before turning back to the living room.
Was Kallie a mom?
And was she married? Grant glanced around the kitchen for any sign of a male’s presence. A work coat or muddy boots or even a family photo taped to the fridge. But nothing.
His focus returned to the babies making themselves at home, and he was suddenly aware of the muscles tightening in his stance. Stiffly, he made his way into the living room, lingering just inside the doorway, eyesight never leaving the twins.
This made no sense. Was there a guy? There must not be because otherwise, why would Frank will half of the farm to Grant? Actually, regardless of whether or not Kallie was seeing someone or married or whatever, he had no idea why Frank had left Grant in the will. But especially if some guy’s kids were involved. Unless Grant was…
No. No. That couldn’t be the case. These kids were little, and he’d been gone two years. He had no real experience with babies, but he’d guess they were only seven or eight months old.
After a couple of long, deep breaths, he found his voice. “So—they’re yours?”
Kallie looked into his eyes. She nodded, and even though that was the answer he’d expected, something in Grant’s world still knocked sideways.
Who…?
No, he couldn’t ask that question out loud. It was brash. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Didn’t keep his mind from scrolling through the possibilities. There weren’t many—Kallie hadn’t dated anyone before Grant. Someone new must have come to town.
Oh. Except for Brendan Millard.
Grant clenched his jaw and lowered himself onto the sofa, the same one he’d used when he’d worked here, and Frank would encourage him to take a quick nap after lunch before returning to the tractor.
Brendan Millard’s parents ran the neighboring farm, and he’d grown up with Kallie. From the beginning, he hadn’t been a fan of Grant, who’d moved to Bitter Creek in high school and was a grade older than both of them. Grant suspected, though, it was because Brendan’s feelings for her ran deeper than friendship.
Grant rubbed at his temple and then down his shadowed jaw. The kids had to be Brendan’s. She would have told Grant if they were his.
Right?
“This is Peter,” Kallie said, her voice soft, bringing Grant’s thoughts around. “And this is Ainsley. Peter’s older by nine minutes, but Ainsley acts like she’s in charge.”
Peter threw a burp cloth over his head, and giggling a silvery laugh, Ainsley joyously yanked it off, causing them both to squeal.
Grant couldn’t help but smile a little. “They’re cute.”
“Thanks.”
Watching, Grant felt pummeled. Kallie had always insisted Brendan was just a friend, but what if that hadn’t been the case? Had he stepped in after Grant left? It would make sense. Brendan loved to farm. And he had a bunch of siblings. He was built for family.
Two things that weren’t in Grant’s blood—no matter how hard he’d searched for them years ago, when his relationship with Kallie had depended on it.
But where was Brendan now?
“We should feed the dogs,” Kallie said suddenly, rising to her feet, Ainsley in her arms. “I’ll grab the stroller from the truck bed if you don’t mind bringing Peter.”
“Oh. Sure.” He scooped up the little boy, so light he worried about squashing him. Relax, Young. He’s not a newborn pup.
He followed Kallie outside, heading for her truck parked in the turnaround. “I’m surprised Peter’s doing as well as he is, since he doesn’t know you,” she said over her shoulder.
“Why? Is he generally shy?” And why had she asked him to carry the child if she knew that about him? Grant looked at Peter in his arms, but the boy only squinted in the sun, distracted by the outdoors.
“Generally.” Kallie placed Ainsley on the grass so she could open the tailgate and pull out a folded double-wide stroller. “He loves people, but he has to warm up first.”
Ainsley quickly approached the stroller, seemingly recognizing it. Kallie unfolded it and lifted her daughter into one of the seats, then buckled her in. Grant brought Peter over and followed suit, albeit awkwardly.
“Do they like this thing?”
“They love it. I do, too.”
“Is it hard to maneuver around here?”
“Actually, it’s easy.” She checked the stroller’s visors so the sun wasn’t in the kids’ eyes, then pushed the stroller across the turnaround. “It’s a sport utility stroller, so the tires are really nice. We use it all the time.”
The kids kicked their legs and pointed out scenery as they rumbled over the gravel and dirt.
As they approached the barn, a Llewellin skittered out of the shadows and loped toward them.
“Hey, Chief.” Grant kept up with Kallie and the stroller, though a couple of yards to her right. “You remember Chief, right?” He motioned to the bird dog