The Mason Jar’s kitchen door, with its glass porthole, swung shut behind Amber.
Sitting back down in the booth, Ethan found Dwight Fleming watching him watch his daughter. Behind Dwight’s wire-rimmed glasses, there was an interesting gleam in his eyes Ethan wasn’t sure how to interpret.
“I hate to see this bitterness between you and Amber. You two were always so close, Dwight.”
There was no man Ethan respected more than Amber’s father. He’d taught Ethan how to shave. How to read the river. How to be a man.
Brow furrowing, Dwight joined him on the other side of the booth. “Things change.”
For a man in his late fifties, the rafting business had ensured Amber’s father retained the shape of a man fifteen years younger. Dwight had the classic chiseled features of a man who’d spent his life outdoors. A former collegiate champion swimmer, his shoulders were still broad and powerful.
Ethan warmed his hands around the mug of coffee. “I was so sorry to hear about Mrs. Fleming’s death.”
For a second so brief as to be almost imaginary, Dwight’s stoic features wavered before resuming his customary mask of control. “Like the river, life flows on.”
Ethan didn’t believe him. Dwight had adored his wife. But Ethan respected his right to keep his feelings—and grief—to himself.
Co-owner of Fleming River Adventures, Kitty had been a perfect mix of outdoorsy athleticism and motherly warmth. Her sense of adventure had been legendary. And five years ago, her death on the river a tragic accident.
“If I’d have been able to get leave—”
“We know you would’ve been here if you could.” Dwight fiddled with a sugar packet. “Your grandmother called me yesterday. She said you’d come home.”
Is that what Truelove was? His home? Ethan wasn’t sure anymore.
“Your grandmother isn’t the only one hoping you’ll decide to stay in Truelove for good.”
“I’m only here until Grandma Hicks is back to her old self.” Ethan shifted in the booth, the old familiar need to be away overtaking him. “I’ve got a job waiting in Wilmington, and next year I’ve promised myself a trip to test my skill on the Burnt Ranch Gorge in California.”
“Class Five rapids.” Dwight blew out a breath. “Serious sieves and hydraulics on that run.”
Ethan grinned. “That’s the challenge of it. Pitting yourself against the elements. The rush. The thrill. The—”
“The stupidity of risking your life trying to tame the untamable.” Amber placed the hamburger plate, loaded with fries, on the table. “You two so totally deserve each other.”
Dwight set his jaw. “Once upon a time you would’ve understood the love of white water.”
She removed the order book from the pocket of her jeans. “Once upon a time, I thought you loved us more than the river.”
Dwight’s face darkened. “You don’t think I blame myself? Every day I—”
She ripped a paper from the pad. “Your bill.” She laid it on the table in front of Ethan. “And you are just like...”
Ethan stiffened. “Just like who?”
She walked away.
“We still need to talk about the girls, Amber,” he called.
“I never meant for things to get this bad between us.” Dwight stared after her. “When her mom died, we were both hurting. I poured myself into the business. Matt was overseas. And I pegged Tony as no good the first time I met him. I should’ve never hired him.”
Ethan’s stomach knotted.
“Stuff was said—on both sides—that couldn’t be taken back.” Dwight eased out of the booth. “Lucy and Stella will grow up without me ever knowing them,” he whispered.
Ethan got to his feet. “I’d love to stop by the office. Hang out. Like the old days, sir.”
“Come by whenever you can.” Dwight clapped his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “And don’t think I won’t try to convince you to reconsider giving Truelove another chance. You’ve got people who care about you here.” Dwight’s gaze wandered toward the kitchen. “You ever get tired of roaming, you could make a life here. A good life.”
Problem was, Truelove wasn’t Ethan’s idea of a good life.
He had finished the burger and was halfway through the fries when Amber finally slipped into the empty seat Dwight had vacated.
She steepled her hands on the table. “I don’t want you or Miss ErmaJean to think I’m not grateful. I admire your decision to allow your grandmother to recuperate in her own home.”
Dropping his gaze, he shoved the plate away. Her admiration was unwarranted. His motivations were not as loving and unselfish as she believed. But he had the distinct feeling that if he shared the full terms of his agreement with Grandma, Amber would refuse him outright.
She took a breath. “I can’t ask you to take on the care of two very lively—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” How could he convince her? “It’s important that you finish school.”
“Be that as it may, you’ll have enough on your hands taking care of your grandmother. And I... I don’t want anyone’s pity.” Her cheeks pinked. “You have no idea how humiliating it is to always be on the receiving end of charity.”
Something tore in his heart. “Don’t be too sure about that, Amber. I’m the kid whose parents found it easy to abandon him. Think of me helping you as payback.”
Amber’s gaze flickered. “What do you mean?”
His throat thickened. “Payback for all the times your folks made me feel a part of your family. Like I belonged.”
Reaching across the table, she laid her hand over his. “You did belong. They loved you, Ethan. We—” She pressed her lips together.
Then inspiration struck. He leaned forward. “What if we were to make a mutually beneficial deal?”
She gave him a look. “You and your deals.”
“What if we could do each other a favor?”
Her forehead creased. “I don’t understand.”
“In the beginning, Grandma is going to need more care than I can provide. What if you helped her with bathing and dressing? In turn, I could watch the girls so you can finish school.” He pushed the plate of fries closer to her. “Help yourself.”
“A lot of what-ifs.” She snagged one of the fries. “You’re proposing an exchange of services?”
“Exactly. No charity involved.”
She twirled the fry in the pool of ketchup on the plate. “It would be awkward for you to help her with such personal needs.” She bit off the end of the fry.
He decided Amber even chewed pretty. “So what do you say? You’d be doing me a favor, Amber.”
Swallowing, she studied him for a long moment. “I guess there’s no harm in giving it a try.”
Over the rest of the fries, they worked out a schedule.
Her accelerated nursing classes ran Tuesdays and Thursdays from five in the evening till ten o’clock at night. On those days, he would be responsible for the girls until Amber returned from class. He would also be on twin-duty every other weekend on the Saturdays and Sundays when she had clinicals. Every day after her shift, Amber would tend to his grandmother. Ethan would take over afternoon carpool.
Ethan glanced at his cell. “I’m due to pick up Grandma from the hospital in a few hours.”
Amber ate the last fry. “I’ll meet you at the house and get her settled.” She slid out of the booth. “My lunch break is over.”
“Fries aren’t lunch, Amber.”
She shrugged. “Got to get to work.”
He didn’t think she took proper care of herself, but he knew better than to say anything. She’d only tell him to mind his own business. So they parted. Amber went into the kitchen. And he left to buy a shower chair for his grandmother per Amber’s suggestion.
Later, when he pulled into the driveway with his grandmother, Amber was waiting on the porch. Dusting off her jeans, she stood up.
He met her halfway. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting long. I had to go by the pharmacy to get Grandma’s prescriptions.”
“No problem. I finished my shift at three.” She inspected her wristwatch. “There’s still time before I have to pick up the girls from the Fieldings’.”
He went around to retrieve the wheelchair from the trunk. Amber opened ErmaJean’s door and hugged her.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping Ethan with my care.”
Amber shook her head. “I don’t feel right about getting paid to do something I’d want to do, anyway.”
Thinking over their arrangement, earlier he’d texted Amber about adding a financial compensation to their agreed-upon exchange of services.
“I was going to have to hire someone for Grandma’s at-home care.” He brought the chair over. “It would cost me a lot more to hire someone from an agency. I’d prefer the money go to you.”
His grandmother patted Amber’s hand. “I feel better having you here instead of a stranger.”
Amber stepped aside as he maneuvered the chair closer to the car.
“It’s a win for all of us, Amber.” He set the chair brakes. “Swapping services to everyone’s benefit.”
She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I want you both to know how much I appreciate this opportunity to finish school. And the extra money will enable me to reduce my hours at the Mason Jar. Giving me more time to study for finals.”
He helped his grandmother stand, careful she didn’t bear any weight on her fractured leg. Amber held on to his grandma, providing stability as he transitioned her into the wheelchair.
“Whew!” Grandma flopped into the chair. “That was a workout.”
He released the brake. “The chair is only for trips away from home.” Gripping the chair handles, he pushed his grandmother up the drive.
Amber strolled beside them. “I’ll show you how to use the crutches.”
Grandma groaned.
Amber squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll go over everything together. I promise.”
Past the clump of daffodils at the corner of the house, Ethan pushed the chair around to the ramp he’d erected.
Grandma put her hand to her throat. “Oh, Ethan, honey. How did you ever have time to build this?”
Flicking a look at Amber, he broadened his chest. “I’m a fast worker.”
Amber rolled her eyes. As he’d meant her to. “You’re something, all right.”
“It was fun using Granddad’s tools.” He leveraged the wheelchair over the doorjamb into the kitchen. “Now you can enjoy being a lady of leisure, Grandma. The queen bee.”
Grandma sniffed. “I’ve always been queen bee around here.”
“Don’t worry, Miss ErmaJean.” Amber poked Ethan’s biceps with her finger. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget it.”
“I’m not likely to forget.” He made a face. “Not with all you females around to remind me.”
“Let’s get Miss ErmaJean on the sofa.”
With Amber’s guidance, he transferred his grandmother to the couch. She propped the older woman against the cushions. “For the first few days, we need to keep your leg elevated, level with your heart, to reduce any swelling.”
Grandma smoothed her skirt. “We’ve been invited to a picnic at the Jackson orchard on Sunday, Ethan. Callie’s father, Nash, and her husband, Jake, will help you feel not quite so outnumbered.”
“But that’s tomorrow.” He placed a pillow under her casted leg. “Are you sure you’ll feel up to it, Grandma?”
She fluttered her hand. “Miss a chance to see the apple trees in bloom? I think not. Besides, I’m already sick of being stuck indoors.”
His gaze darted to Amber.
“Resuming normal activity with some limitations is a good thing,” she assured him. “It’s important to keep up a patient’s spirits.”
“Exactly.” Grandma smiled. “Seeing as this is Amber’s weekend off from clinicals, it will give you and the girls a chance to get used to each another before twin-sitting begins Monday afternoon.”
“Which reminds me.” Amber tucked a throw around his grandmother. “I need to go over the car pool diagram with Ethan.”
He handed his grandmother the remote. “How hard can picking up a pair of munchkins from school be?”
The women exchanged amused looks.
Amber pursed her lips. “Let’s just say there are certain protocols that must be followed.” She turned to his grandmother. “Make sure to wiggle your toes often. It will reduce stiffness.”
He shrugged. “I can do rules.”
Amber propped her hand on her hip. “Since when?”
“Since joining the Marines.” He smirked. “I can do adulting, Amber.”
Grandma gave an unladylike snort. “Let’s hope so.”
“Relax, ladies. I got this.” Hands tucked into his armpits, he rocked onto his heels. “Two little girls. School. Car. Throw open the door.”
And because he knew it would irritate Amber, he flashed his trademark Ethan Green smile. “I might even decide to slow down before they jump in.”
Grandma’s eyes widened. “Ethan!”
Tongue pressed into her cheek, Amber shook her head. “He’s just trying to push my buttons, Miss ErmaJean.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Is it working?”
A small smile played about Amber’s lips. “I learned a long time ago never to take you too seriously.”
He straightened. “All kidding aside, I want you to know I take your children’s safety and well-being very seriously, Amber.” But then he couldn’t help adding, “You saw what I did there? Children? ‘Kidding’?”
She laughed. He loved to make her laugh. The lighthearted banter was their way with each other. Always had been. And though his time in Truelove might be temporary, he decided to make it his personal mission to help Amber laugh more often.
“It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine,” he said to reassure himself as much as Amber. “What could go wrong?”
Ethan woke Sunday morning with a strange sense of trepidation. He hadn’t been inside a church since he’d lived in Truelove. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about returning to the little chapel where his grandmother had taken him—most times against his will—every Sunday of his childhood.
He hadn’t minded the Bible stories or the songs. But it had been hard to sit still when he longed to be outside in the sunshine. He was a grown-up now, supposedly anyhow. Yet he remained much more comfortable with doing rather than merely being.
Grandma never missed a service, and he didn’t have the heart to disappoint her. After a quick text from his grandmother, IdaLee stopped by to help her dress.
Afterward, he loaded Grandma into the sedan and headed to the white clapboard church. Nestled in a glade on the edge of town, the steeple brushed a picture-perfect Blue Ridge sky.
He wheeled his grandmother from the gravel parking lot over the tiny footbridge, spanning the small creek. Rushing water burbled over the moss-covered stones. Above the soft murmur of voices were sweet sounds of birdsong. The apple-green leaves of a willow rustled in a light breeze.
Utilizing the handicapped ramp, he rolled his grandmother into the sanctuary and parked her at the end of a pew. “The prodigal grandson returns,” he murmured.
“Your words, dear heart.” She touched his hand. “Never mine.”
A sudden lump in his throat, he hung back as her many friends engulfed her in hugs.
“Miss ErmaJean is a favorite here in Truelove.”
His pulse leaped at the sound of Amber’s voice.
In a figure-flattering yellow sundress, she looked as fresh as springtime. And she smelled delicious. Like lilacs.
“Where are the girls?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“I’ve taken them to children’s church. Trust me.” Her lips twitched. “It’s better for everyone’s contemplation, if they’re age-appropriately occupied.”
“Makes me wish there’d been children’s church when I was a kid.”
Amber batted her lashes. “You made the elders wish it, too. Much to the benefit of subsequent generations.”
“So you’re saying I’m highly influential?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek. “A trendsetter. A legacy builder.”
“Don’t oversell it, Ethan.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You are impossible.”
He grinned. “That’s why you love me.”
She blinked, a startled look in her eyes. “Y-you wish.” Brushing past him, she slipped across the aisle into a pew with Callie and a dark blond man Ethan presumed to be her husband, Jake McAbee.
When the prelude music started, he edged around his grandmother’s chair and sat in the pew. Huge, hand-hewn beams soared above his head. Stained glass windows depicted Bible stories. Finding his childhood favorite, he was surprised at the rush of happy memories, of the faith his grandmother had sought to instill within him.
A community of faith. He was glad Amber would be able to give Lucy and Stella this—roots. Something he had never wanted. Until now?
During the opening song, he held the green-bound hymnal for his grandmother. And tried not to stare at Amber’s blond hair brushing against her shoulder blades. At the last minute, a muscular yet lanky guy scooted into the pew beside her.
Reverend Bryant called the congregation to prayer. Ethan was struck by how the man talked to God like He was right there beside him. Like talking to a friend. As natural as breathing.
Another sweet memory rose—of Ethan’s grandparents’ prayers over him as a boy. Without a doubt, it had been his grandmother’s prayers that kept him alive in Afghanistan. And God’s grace.
For the first time in a long while, he bent his head, giving thanks to God for preserving him. For allowing him to return to Truelove. For enabling him to return—home?
Then Reverend Bryant gripped the sides of the pulpit. “Pride, my dear brothers and sisters, is what keeps us from experiencing God’s favor in our lives.”
Funny, he’d just been thinking about God’s grace. God’s favor. Same thing.
He leaned back against the pew. Had a misplaced pride caused him to view Truelove through the lens of his father’s desertion? Had he truly been as outcast as he’d felt?
Bending forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs and laced his hands together. Pride—another name for his determination to keep everyone at arm’s length. Other than Matt and Grandma, allowing no one to get close enough to hurt him again.
His former girlfriend, Kelly, had accused him of being emotionally distant. He was vaguely aware he ought to be more torn up about losing her. But perhaps her rejection had stung his self-confidence more than his heart. As to his inability for intimacy, Kelly might’ve been onto something.
A further startling realization dawned. How long had it been since he called his mother? Sure, she’d remarried and moved away. But feeling replaced by her new husband—and prideful—it was Ethan who’d chosen not to go with her into her new life.
God hates pride, the reverend warned.
What would his life look like if Ethan stopped keeping everyone—including God—at arm’s length? What if he could trust God not to hurt him? What if he opened his life to Him?
At the closing hymn, Ethan rose with the congregation. He resolved to ponder the ramifications of what his pride had cost him. Later, when he could sort through the confusing tangle of emotions he was only now beginning to confront, to understand.
By the time the other half of the congregation had jumped up to love on his grandmother, Amber and Callie had disappeared through the door flanking the pulpit. Probably to get their kids.
Almost the last to leave the church, he steered the car toward the Jackson family orchard. Pink redbuds and white dogwoods dotted the slopes of the tree-studded Blue Ridge. Descending into the valley, he emerged into slightly gentler terrain. Horses grazed in pastures. A couple of miles later, he pulled off the main highway and drove under the crossbars. Bypassing a rustic country store, he continued on the long gravel-covered drive.
Grandma smiled. “It’s so beautiful this time of year at Apple Valley Farm.”
The leafed-out apple trees were at their peak, and a shower of petal pink blossoms carpeted the road. Set on a knoll overlooking the orchard, the tin roof of the two-story white farmhouse gleamed in the afternoon sun.
A bevy of vehicles occupied the yard. One of them, a navy blue pickup, had a for-sale sign stuck in the rear windshield. “Looks like they’ve invited the whole town.” He helped his grandmother transfer to the wheelchair.
“Just a few close friends and neighbors.”
A long table with chairs had been placed under the shade of a flowering cherry tree. The screened door creaked open and slapped shut as Callie scurried out with a large bowl of potato salad.
“Dad and Jake are at the grill cooking the chickens.” She gestured toward the flume of smoke rising from a black-barreled, monster cooker near the barn. “Pour yourself some tea. We’ll eat as soon as Lorena arrives from the hospital.” Depositing the plastic-wrapped bowl on the table, Callie headed for the house.
Ethan fixed his grandmother a glass of sweet tea. “Remind me who Lorena is.”
“Lives next door. Good friend to Callie’s late mother.” Grandma took a sip and sighed. “Now, that hits the spot. What was I saying? Oh, yes, Lorena is also an emergency room nurse. She helped Amber get into the accelerated program.”
He heard the sound of children’s voices first. Then he spotted Lucy, Stella and a slightly younger boy racing between the rows of apple trees.
“Who does the little boy belong to, Grandma?”
“He’s Jonas Stone’s little boy. Jonas was several years ahead of you in high school. You may not have crossed paths. His family owns the dude ranch.”
Ethan shook his head. “I’m not sure—”
“That’s him.” His grandmother pointed.
A tall man in a brown cowboy hat ambled out of the orchard with Amber. The same man who’d sat beside her in church.
Ethan scowled. “Shouldn’t he be with his wife?”
“Hush now,” Grandma hissed. “He’ll hear you. Jonas lost his wife. He and Amber have that in common. He’s a good man.”
Good enough for Amber? Ethan snorted, taking an instant and completely unjustified dislike to Stone.
Seeing them, Amber waved and came over. She kissed his grandmother’s cheek and straightened. “Hey, Ethan.”
He grunted.
Amber tilted her head. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” He stuck his hand out to Stone. “Don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Amber’s eyes flitted from Ethan to Stone. “Ethan Green, meet my friend Jonas Stone.”
Friend, huh? What was with women and cowboys?
He shook Stone’s hand. “It’s old friends who make the best friends.”
Stone winced.
Ethan left off making mincemeat of Stone’s hand to find his grandmother studying him over the rim of her tea glass, amusement dancing in her eyes.
A woman in purple scrubs exited the SUV that had driven into the yard.
Grandma nudged his arm. “I have it on good authority, we’re in for an announcement this afternoon.” She licked her lips. “Another successful match in Truelove, where true love awaits.”
An announcement? What kind of— His gaze swung from Amber to Jonas Stone. Something went cold in his belly.
“Efan! Efan! Efan!” Lucy shrieked.
Running full bore, she captured Ethan around the knees, nearly knocking him off his feet. Stella’s approach was more sedate, less eager. More like a funeral march. Stone moved to intercept his small son from a collision course with a flower bed.
Lucy lifted her arms to him. Ethan glanced at Amber.
She shrugged. “Lucy, you’re too big to be carried around like a baby. But go ahead. Hold her if you want to, Ethan.”
When he did, Lucy draped her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. “I missed you, Efan.”
His heart puddled a little. “It’s good to know somebody’s glad to see me, Lucy Lou.” He poked her belly with his finger. Writhing, she giggled.
Amber’s brow knitted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
People said women had mood swings. So what was up with Ethan?
But apparently, he’d already won over one of Amber’s daughters. Another member of the Ethan Green fan club.
Like mother, like daughter?
“Mommy?” Stella tugged at Amber’s skirt. “Maisie said after lunch we could ride the tractor with her dad.”
Absentmindedly, she brushed her hand over Stella’s head. “We’ll see.”
But things got too hectic for further reflection. She helped Callie, Lorena and Jonas’s mom, Deirdre Fielding, carry the rest of the potluck items to the table. Then Amber’s children had to be corralled and semicontained in adjacent chairs.
ErmaJean introduced Ethan to Jake and three-year-old Maisie. As usual, adoring Maisie was stuck to her father tighter than a deer tick. Coming around to fix Lucy’s and Stella’s plates, Amber patted the sweet little girl’s blond bouncing curls.
Amber wondered if Ethan felt like an outsider. He had the same look on his face like years ago when he’d go quiet at the noisy, happy Fleming dinner table. A wistful hunger for something that had nothing to do with food.
Yesterday at the diner when he’d spoken of his deep-seated feelings of alienation, it was the first time he’d ever shared anything so personal with her. Mr. Too Cool for School had always laughed off his hurts. Hidden his pain. A tough guy who didn’t usually reveal any vulnerability.
And today he was looking everywhere but at her. Maybe why he was acting so oddly. Embarrassed that he’d shown weakness. Such a guy attitude. Although not necessarily a condition confined to men. She struggled with her own pride issues.
But she felt honored that he’d trusted her. Giving her an insight into why he believed there was nothing for him in Truelove.
Everyone had wounds. She agonized over how badly she and Tony might’ve already damaged her girls. Daily she prayed God wouldn’t allow her issues to stand between what He wanted to do in her children’s lives.
“May I have your attention, please?” Rising, Nash tapped his butter knife against his glass. “Lorena, sweetheart?” He took her hand.
Even the children quieted. Somewhere, a robin sang.
“Dad, if you don’t go ahead and tell it, I’m going to burst from excitement,” Callie said.
Everyone laughed.
Nash smiled. “We’ve already told the family and received their blessing, but we wanted the rest of you to know, at long last, Lorena has consented to make me the happiest man on earth.”
“It’s about time,” ErmaJean huffed.
Hugs and well-wishes ensued. The children clapped enthusiastically, sensing the joy.
ErmaJean touched Amber’s arm. “This match took some doing, let me tell you, missy.” She winked. “But GeorgeAnne, IdaLee and I proved equal to the task. We applied reverse psychology.”
As Amber remembered it, they’d tried to match Callie’s widowed father to every single lady of a certain age in the county. Everyone except Lorena. And tried setting up Lorena with every middle-aged bachelor. Except Nash Jackson.
“I love it when a plan comes together. With nowhere else to run, they ran straight into each other’s arms.” ErmaJean waggled her finger. “There’s more than one way to peel an apple.”
The matchmakers had never attempted to pair Amber with anyone. Probably writing her off as a lost cause. After all, what man in his right mind would come within a mile of a single mom with two little girls?
For the hundredth time, she tamped down the insidious fear that no man would ever be able to get past the fact that she’d been married—albeit so disastrously—to someone else.
Eager to distract herself from gloomy thoughts, she started clearing away the empty plates.
“Absolutely not.” Callie shooed her away. “Consider yourself off duty today.”
Callie had been a true friend. Sticking by Amber through thick and thin. With Lucy and Stella getting restless, Ethan suggested they take the girls to expend some energy on Maisie’s nearby swing set. Amber readily agreed.
He deposited Lucy into one of the swings, but when he reached for Stella, she shrank into Amber. She’d noticed Stella avoided contact with him. Her daughter wasn’t afraid of him, though. Just wary.
Something Amber would do well to emulate. A guarded heart was a safe heart.
Lucy’s and Stella’s feet dangled above the grass.
“Hang on, Lucy Lou.” Standing behind her, he pulled on the chains. “Are you ready, Stella Bella?”
Rosebud lips tight, Stella faced forward, not responding.
Amber pulled Stella’s swing level with where Ethan held Lucy. “I’m sorry.” Another thing she admired about him—one of many—his persistence in trying to connect with Stella.
“No worries. But you Fleming ladies need to remember that I don’t quit.” He quirked his eyebrow. “If anything, a challenge makes victory all the sweeter.” He let go of the swing, and Lucy sailed through the air.
“Me, Mommy. Me.” Stella bounced.
Ethan smiled at her, and Amber lost her hold on the chain. Stella swung forward, though not as far or fast.
“Higher,” Lucy called. “Faster, Efan.”
With a gentle prod, he sent her swooping again.
“I’m f-whying, Stehwaa!” she shouted. “I’m bigger than you.”
Amber grimaced. “Uh-oh.”
Stella bunched her muscles and pumped her legs, but try as she might she couldn’t attain the same aerial height as her twin. “Mommy!” she implored. “I want to go like Lucy.”
“Competitive little darlings, aren’t they?” Ethan murmured.
With another push, she sent Stella airborne once more. “But despite their squabbling, woe to the outsider who dares to hurt their sister.”
“I think it’s sweet. I always wished I had a brother or sister.”
The pensive tone had returned to his voice.
“Matt and I tried to make you feel like our honorary sibling.”
“You were Matt’s sister. Not mine.” Ethan’s hazel eyes sharpened. “Do you think of me as a brother?”
“N-no,” she stammered.
He gave her a crooked smile. “Good.” He sent Lucy winging.
“Mommy!” Stella protested. “Push harder.”
Amber crossed her arms. “I’m not as strong as Ethan. If you want to go as high and fast as Lucy, Ethan is the only one who can get you to where you want to go.”
She blushed. Far more truth in that than she cared to contemplate. Stella’s swing slowed.
“Okay,” Stella called at last. “Ethan, would you, please...?”
“Your wish is my command, Stella Bella.” Taking Amber’s place, he gave her a mighty shove. Squealing with glee, Stella soared high away from the ground.
Ethan’s mood seemed to have improved. And because he’d been transparent enough to share a piece of his heart with Amber, she felt compelled to return the favor.
“You’ve never asked me about... About...” Amber moistened her lips.
He kept both girls zooming toward the treetops. “About what?”
“About Tony. My ex-husband.” She spared a glance to make sure the twins were too occupied to overhear. “Their biological father.”
He staggered, momentarily losing his footing. “I didn’t want to pry.”
She laughed, though not with mirth. “Well, that would make you the only one in Truelove.”
He gave her the lopsided grin that buckled her knees. “Gotta love Small Town, USA.” He immediately sobered. “But if it’s too painful, you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“The whole thing was painful.” She swallowed. “From beginning to end. But lately, I’ve felt better able to process it. Let it go.”
An emotional healing she suspected she owed as much to Ethan’s return to Truelove as anything else.
“Didn’t Miss ErmaJean tell you what happened?”
“Only that he worked for your father at the rafting company.”
The way Ethan said “he” made clear his opinion of the twins’ father. She appreciated Ethan’s unreserved loyalty. She’d known little of that since the fateful summer she met Tony. Loyalty and honesty were everything to her now.
“The last thing I heard about you from Matt was that you were at college.”
She took a breath. “I’d finished my junior year when I came home that May to work the summer season with Mom and Dad. But Mom—” Her voice broke.
“Matt said your mother was trying to rescue a kid trapped on the river.”
Amber nodded. “There’d been a lot of spring rain. The river was high and fast. From the outset, it was going to be dicey. I wanted to call for a swift water helo rescue, but Dad was afraid the boy wouldn’t last that long. He wanted to go in alone, but you know Mom—” Her voice quavered. “You knew Mom. She wasn’t one to let things happen without her.”
“If Matt and I had been here...”
“The what-ifs are the quickest way to melancholy. You and Matt were serving our country.” She injected a teasing note in her voice. “Saving the world from tyranny.”
He gave her a small smile. “There is that.”
“You know the rest of the story. Dad saved the boy. He couldn’t save Mom. By the end of summer, he’d turned completely into himself. I was so unhappy and alone. Tony made me feel something besides numb.”
Ethan dropped his gaze, continuing to send Stella and Lucy skyward.
“I quit college and went off with him.” She looked away. “But I had hardly been married a month before I realized I’d made a mistake I figured I’d spend the rest of my life regretting.”
“Was he cruel to you? Did he hurt you?” Ethan’s voice sounded strangled.
Her gaze returned to his. “No. But I’d married Peter Pan, you see. A happy-go-lucky, never-wants-to-grow-up wanderer. In fairness, I think he soon realized he wasn’t cut out for marriage. Of course by that time, I was pregnant and he freaked.”
Ethan’s eyes blazed, but she understood his anger wasn’t directed at her. “A decent man doesn’t walk away from his children, nor his wife.”
He was thinking of his own father. Amber touched his shoulder. “No, he doesn’t.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “You’re better off without him.”
“I think so, too.”
“His loss.”
As if her hand possessed a life of its own, she brushed her fingertip along his jaw. “Your father, too.”
Something raw blazed from his eyes before he clamped it down into the region Ethan stored his emotions. “Do the girls ever hear from him?”
“No. They don’t even share his last name.” She dropped her hand, appalled at her boldness. “Last I heard through the rafting grapevine, Tony is somewhere out West. On yet another freewheeling adventure.”
Ethan’s brows bunched. “Do the girls ask about him?”
Her eyes flitted toward Callie and Jake, chatting with ErmaJean. “Only since Maisie found her daddy last autumn.”
“I didn’t realize...”
“Callie and Jake have only been married since November. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it another time.”
“I like the sound of that.” He nodded. “It’s a date.”
She blinked, but he stepped away to help the girls. They’d grown tired and wished to disembark their chariots to the sky. Amber decided he probably hadn’t meant that the way it sounded. As in a “date-date.” Probably something more along the lines of a calendar “date.”
Don’t be a silly fool, she told herself. Don’t read more into what’s there.
They were friends, nothing more. Doing each other a favor. And though it appeared he’d dropped his plan to relocate Miss ErmaJean, she would be wise to remember he’d eventually return to the beach. This interlude with Ethan was too good to be true. Too good to last.
After the catastrophe with Tony, Amber didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters.