The cottage that composed the on-site store at the fishing hole resembled the gingerbread houses Lindy had decorated with her grandmother each Christmas throughout her youth. Painted a cheery yellow, it had white, scalloped cake-icing trim along the roof’s edge and seafoam shutters bordering every window. A bright red door bracketed by sizable clay pots with equally vibrant red geraniums formed the entrance. And wooden rocking chairs, in alternating hues of seafoam and turquoise, surrounded the wraparound porch.
When she’d first heard about the fishing hole, Lindy envisioned a small area, probably along a creek, where people sat beneath spindly trees on flat, uncomfortable rocks as they fished. She certainly hadn’t expected anything resembling the postcardworthy perfection greeting her when Mrs. Bowers had first brought her here two days ago.
And yesterday, she’d thanked God repeatedly for providing her with the opportunity to work at a place that so clearly defined His creation, as well as a job that gave her the opportunity to see Jerry. However, since her son was slated for the Monday and Wednesday fishing group, and since today’s group of Willow’s Haven kids had only purchased supplies on Monday and didn’t have their first actual fishing day until today, she hadn’t seen him since their shopping trip.
She missed him terribly, even more than she had when she was in prison, because now there actually was a chance that she could have him in her life again, and yet she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t hold him, couldn’t explain why she’d missed his second birthday, or his third, or his fourth.
But life was getting better. Just having the opportunity to view all of this, the huge pond sparkling in the early morning sun, the slick green moss highlighting the water’s edge and the cascading willows tossing feathery shadows sporadically along the bank, provided a direct contrast from the dingy gray walls that had surrounded her the past three years.
If she had to sum up this place in a single word, it’d be breathtaking. In fact, she’d shown up this morning at six, even though the Willow’s Haven group wasn’t expected until eight, simply because she wanted a little time to appreciate the scene and pray before her official workday began. She had ample time to finish her duties before the kids arrived, so she got her priorities in order, sat in one of the rockers, closed her eyes and talked to God. She thanked Him for helping her find Jerry and for bringing her here, to Claremont. Then she thanked Him for the phone call she’d received last night from Ted Murrell, who said he’d take her case and honestly believed she had a slim chance to get her son back.
Slim was better than none, and she’d take it.
She visualized the day she’d tell Jerry that she was his mommy, that she loved him dearly and had missed him terribly.
I just met him, and I missed him already. Hard to believe… Ethan’s statement from Monday had haunted her ever since, because he sounded like he’d truly missed Jerry when they were apart, too. Lindy almost believed him.
Would a court believe him, too?
And the other part of Ethan’s proclamation bothered her even more: that he’d been praying for Jerry for three years. Three years. The amount of time she’d been incarcerated. But he said he’d just met him last week.
Why had he been praying for her little boy?
She kept her eyes closed and prepared to pray more. But, as was often the case, the memory of her sentencing stabbed her heart, and she had to fight off the impulse to question God, like she had so many times, about why He’d allowed her to go to prison in the first place.
Then, because she knew He could read her heart anyway, she asked.
God, why? Why did I have to go through all of that? Why did I lose those precious years with my son?
And since she was already telling Him her heart, she let the base of the matter come to the surface, too…
And since Marsha, the only friend I’d had since high school and the one person I’d entrusted with the truth of Gil’s abuse, helped send me to prison, how am I ever going to trust anyone again?
“This place is amazing, isn’t it?”
One hand flew to her chest and the other grabbed the wooden armrest as the incredibly beautiful man who planned to take Jerry away climbed the porch steps.
He wore a pale blue short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned over a white T-shirt and khaki shorts, his wavy dark hair a little more mussed than she’d seen it before, and his smile even brighter than usual. He looked as though he belonged in the center of this picturesque place. The perfect man every girl would dream of, relaxing on a blanket beneath one of those willow trees, sharing a picnic with her. They’d be laughing. Enjoying each other’s company.
Disarmingly handsome, Ethan Green appeared as though he was completely unaware of the beauty God had bestowed on him. Moreover, he looked undeniably comfortable in his surroundings and totally content in his life.
Like a man who would make an excellent father.
Lindy’s throat pinched tight, and a wave of sudden nausea caused her to tense. Why would any jury think she’d be better for Jerry than him?
“Whoa, now.” He held up his palms. “Hey, I’m sorry. Seems like I keep managing to sneak up on you, but I promise, that wasn’t my intention.” He tilted his head and studied her face, which she assumed had gone pale, her freckles probably standing out even more than usual.
“I’m okay,” she managed.
He didn’t buy it. “Well, you don’t look okay. You look like you’re going to get sick. Do you need some water or something? And didn’t you hear me drive up?”
She patted her hand against her chest and forced her heartbeat to decrease. It wasn’t as if she could explain that she’d spent the last thirty-six months in a place where being taken by surprise could very well mean you’d end up on a gurney…or in a morgue. “I didn’t hear you. I guess I was lost in my thoughts.” Lost in my prayers, and in my fears about you.
“I can see how that’d be easy to do out here.” He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, which unfortunately brought her attention to the wide planes of his chest pressing against the soft fabric of his T-shirt. Then he scanned his surroundings with obvious appreciation, giving her another smile that sent a wave of something that definitely wasn’t nausea through her before sitting in the next rocker. Way too close for comfort. “This place is incredible,” he said.
“Yes, it is.” Lindy couldn’t fathom why he’d shown up this early and suddenly regretted taking a moment to relax on the porch. It’d be easier to stay away from him if she were working on the start-up list that Mrs. Bowers had provided. She’d seen his name slated for the first group this morning and had been eager to start her workday spending time with Jerry, but the Willow’s Haven bus wouldn’t arrive at the fishing hole until eight. She checked the time on her watch. “It’s just past seven. The kids won’t be here for another hour.”
“I know, but I’ve been up since five.” He settled into the rocker, extended a long leg to the porch rail then pushed back to gently rock, as though he planned to sit here beside her, truly closer than she’d like, for a while. “I’m staying at the Claremont Bed and Breakfast, and the couple who runs the place start cooking before dawn. When those scents—bacon, eggs, sausage gravy, biscuits—hit my room each morning… Let me tell you, for a single guy, it’s like waking up and thinking you might be in heaven.” He grinned. “I didn’t want to insult them or anything, so I got up and ate.”
“That was mighty polite of you.” She wished his smile didn’t affect her the way it did, making her stomach flutter and her skin warm and tempting her to smile in return, but she held the instinct in check. She’d mastered hiding her emotions over the past three years, and she wasn’t about to lose control of that ability now, especially not with Ethan Green. She didn’t need to encourage this man. Or any man, for that matter.
He gave her a one-shoulder shrug and a wink. “What can I say? I do what I can.”
Lindy couldn’t deny he was charming, but Gil had been charming, too, for a while. “That still doesn’t explain why you came out here so early.” She’d planned on slowly working through the small list of daily tasks that Jolaine had given her, but now that Ethan sat nearby, she decided to do her best to stay busy for the remainder of their time alone.
Alone. With Ethan Green. Again. The guy who, in spite of the fact that he could take her son away, still reminded her of how it felt to be around a man and notice all of those masculine traits that rattled her senses. Strong jaw. Broad shoulders. Muscled biceps and forearms sprinkled with hair, slightly tanned, probably from working outside around his house. Then there were the masculine hands that currently relaxed against his rocker’s armrests, but that looked capable of pretty much anything. Legs that stretched all the way out to the porch rail, much farther than she’d reach.
Her eyes were suddenly drawn to his extended knee, and an angry, spiderlike scar that wrapped its way completely around it. What had happened? A car wreck? Or some other kind of accident?
Apparently her face showed her surprise because she realized she’d been caught staring at it.
He dropped the leg from the porch rail, sat a little straighter in the rocker and said, “I came early because I’m excited about seeing Jerry, and I was anxious to get out here to see the place.”
Okay. So asking about the scar was off-limits. And she shouldn’t ask anyway. She didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with the man, didn’t want to act overly interested. Because she wasn’t. Really. The only reason she’d even interact with him was because of his mentorship of her son. She swallowed, pushed the question about the scar out of her mind and instead focused on casual conversation. “Yes, it’s beautiful here. And the weather is very comfortable, especially with that breeze.” She nodded toward the willows swaying in the distance.
He started rocking again, taking another long, appreciative gaze of the impressive view. “The Tingles, the couple who own the B and B, said this place was nice, but this goes way beyond nice. And I have to admit, if I’d known a fishing hole could look like this, I’d have taken up the sport years ago.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t all look like this.” Suddenly needing to end this one-on-one time with the man who intended to take her son, Lindy pushed up from the rocker. “I’ve got a few things to get done before the bus arrives.” She started toward the pebbled parking area and noticed a shiny navy SUV parked next to her small, dented car. Even their vehicles showed which one of them had more to offer a child.
“I’ll help you.” And then, before she had a chance to protest, those long legs carried him right beside her, eluding her attempt to get as far away from him as possible.
“I can handle it.” The words came out in a rush due to the nerves he rattled, and she refused to look at him or encourage him in any way. Instead, she hoped he would pivot toward the cottage and return to his rocker until the kids arrived.
He didn’t even pause, but continued walking beside her. Then, when she reached for the back door handle, he stopped her, his warm palm and long fingers touching her forearm and gently turning her so that she had no choice but to look into those intoxicating chocolate eyes.
Lindy was rocked to her core by the truth. This man not only had the power to take her son, but he also had the power to crush her heart in the process.
God, please help me control this bizarre feeling. The last thing I need in my life is another man letting me down. Especially the one trying to take Jerry.
She opened her mouth to tell him again that she didn’t need his help, but she didn’t get the chance.
“Lindy, don’t. Don’t keep trying to do everything on your own.” He shook his head subtly as his eyes connected with hers. “I don’t know what’s happened in your past, who made you so fearful of people who want to help, but I promise you, that’s what I’m trying to do—help. Let me do that, okay? We’re going to be seeing each other fairly regularly with this whole fishing gig, and I’ve noticed—The thing is, it seems like Jerry comes out of his shell around you.”
Her knees were a little wobbly, either from his proximity, the way his hand still rested on her forearm or his words about her son. She’d thought she wanted to get some distance from him, but hope ebbed through to her very soul at his observation, and she found herself asking, “You noticed he comes out of his shell around me?”
Did she and Jerry still have a semblance of that bond they’d made way back when?
And what would Ethan do if he ever figured out why?
“I did. Jerry is comfortable around you, and I want him to be that comfortable around me, too. I mean, he’s going to be the biggest part of my life really soon.”
She didn’t like the sound of that at all. She slid her arm away from his, then turned to begin gathering the quilts from her backseat. “What does that have to do with letting you help me out?”
Mrs. Bowers had laundered all of the patchwork quilts that they provided for folks fishing at the pond, and three stacks of them filled her backseat. It was way more than she could carry in a single trip. And he noticed, sliding beside her to grab the second batch before she had a chance to close the car door with her hip. Which made her notice the crisp scent of his aftershave, even more intoxicating than the floral scent of fabric softener wafting from the quilts.
Truly, the fabric softener wasn’t even a close second to the scent of Ethan Green.
“Just see it as my way of thanking you,” he said, and she pressed her face closer to the quilts to take in more of the fabric softener smell…and less of the man tempting her senses.
She walked swiftly toward the large cedar chests on the front porch where the quilts were stored. “Thanking me for what?” He got to the chests first and lifted the lid on one.
She was grateful for the sweet scent of cedar spilling from the chest, and the fact that it overpowered every other smell around.
Lindy suddenly recalled the hope chest her grandmother had given her when she turned thirteen. The one she’d filled with all the typical things a teenager thinks she might need when she gets married. Gil hadn’t liked the cedar scent of the items that she’d stored inside so, wanting to make him happy, she’d ended up selling all the sentimental contents at their first yard sale.
She’d cried all night after.
“Lindy, are you okay?”
Why did he keep asking her that? “I’m fine.”
And why did she keep answering with a lie?
Because she knew the truth. The pain of her past, not only the prison time but also the time she’d spent with a man who had no qualms about hitting her when she didn’t behave the way he wanted, had made her far from “fine.”
He gave her the look she’d seen from him before, the one that said he knew she wasn’t being completely forthright, but he wouldn’t press the issue. She thanked God for that small favor. And that reminded her that Ethan had never answered her question. “You said you were helping me as a thank you. Thanking me for what?”
“For helping my little man open up.” He closed the lid on the chest. “Because by helping him, you’re helping me.”
“How’s that?” she asked as they made their way back to the car.
“You’ll help me get closer to my son, and I’ll be able to adopt him before…”
She stopped walking just shy of the car door, turned and asked, “Before what?”
“Before something happens that would cause him to be hurt again.” He moved past her, leaned into the car to retrieve the quilts that were farther away and bring them out on his own. Meanwhile Lindy tried to formulate the words to ask what he was talking about, preferably without giving away too much.
Before she could say a thing, he asked, “Did you need anything else from the car?”
She shook her head and decided to see just how much he knew about her son’s past. And hers. “Jerry’s been hurt?” Then she held her breath and waited to see how he’d answer.
He nudged the door shut. “He has, but I’m going to do my best to prove to him that he can trust again and show him what a parent should be.”
Lindy walked alongside him toward the cottage, while trying to figure out how she’d ever compete with this seemingly perfect man in court. She knew how a parent should be, and that was the kind of parent she’d always wanted to be to her son. The kind of parent she would be if given another chance.
Would a court believe her?
Since his arms were filled with the quilts, she moved ahead of him and opened the next cedar chest for him to place them inside. “Thanks,” he said, and again threw her off balance just by standing so near and appearing so nice.
Lindy still needed to get the rental equipment ready inside the store, but they had a little more time, and she wanted to know…
“The other day you said Jerry needed protection. And today you said he’d been hurt.” She moved toward the red door, just in case his words caused an emotion she didn’t want him to see, and attempted to ask another question without letting on how very much she wanted to know what Ethan would say. “Who does he need protection from?”
“His mother.” The answer was delivered matter-of-factly, as if there were no doubt in his mind. He might as well have punched her in the stomach like one of those women in prison had.
Her hand tightened on the doorknob. What had he been told? And what did he believe? What would a judge and jury believe? “His mother hurt him?”
“Yes,” he said. “Not personally, or at least not from what the courts could tell, but she didn’t stop him from being hurt, either. And I’m going to do my best to keep him from being hurt again.”
A low rumble in the distance caused both of them to turn and see the noisy school bus slowly creeping along the gravel drive with several pickup trucks and cars following.
“That’s them. I’m going to get my gear.” He left the porch and headed toward his SUV.
Lindy didn’t respond, but kept her eyes peeled on that approaching bus, the one that held her son. Ethan said he planned to do his best to keep him from being hurt again.
She believed him.
A court probably would, too.
But somehow, she—and her new attorney—had to convince them all that she wanted to keep him from being hurt again, too.
* * *
Ethan and Jerry were scheduled for two hours of fishing this morning, and an hour and a half in, they still hadn’t gotten a single nibble. Or at least one that counted. Their bait had been swiped a few times, but with no fish to show for the effort. And Ethan was clueless about how to fix the problem.
A cheer from a short distance away caused him—and his little man—to turn and watch, again, as more of their peers found success in the pond.
“They got one,” Jerry said glumly. But still, he was sitting by Ethan, communicating with him and sharing a father-son activity with him. So Ethan couldn’t be that disappointed that they hadn’t yet mastered this whole fishing thing.
“Yeah, they got one.” He turned to look at the little boy beside him instead of their red-and-white bobbers floating on the water. “Pretty cool, huh? Hey, maybe we’ll get one soon, too.”
Jerry sat beside him on one of the patchwork quilts Ethan had helped Lindy with earlier and squinted up at him. “We haven’t got one yet.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said this.
“That’s true.” Ethan looked back to the bobbers just in time to see Jerry’s jiggle, making tiny waves in the surface. “But hey, we may have one now. Look!”
Jerry turned as the floating sphere disappeared into the water. “I got one!”
“Pull it up and see,” Ethan encouraged him, hoping it would be one of those small speckled fish that everyone else seemed to be catching.
Jerry jerked the red fishing rod, yanking the line out of the water and the empty shiny gold hook at the end mocked them. “Aw,” he sighed, his tiny shoulders lifting and dropping. “We got nothing. Again.”
If this was an ordinary occurrence, the two of them spending a morning together trying to catch a fish, their lack of success might have been funny, something they would tease each other about and laugh at, but this wasn’t an ordinary occurrence, at least not yet. Ethan had really hoped they would find themselves cheering, too, like the woman and little girl on the opposite side of the pond who had apparently caught another fish and were now doing a celebratory dance.
Jerry blew out another breath of disappointment.
Okay. So Ethan hadn’t thought he knew anything about fishing, and clearly, he’d been right. But he didn’t want this first attempt of a happy memory with his future son to go down as a total failure. And it hadn’t been a complete loss, since Jerry had seemed to enjoy their time tossing the practice sponge bait into the water and reeling it in. However, if Ethan had known that would be the best part of the experience, he would have extended their practice time to an hour, instead of merely the first ten minutes.
“You know—” he glanced at his watch and saw they had fifteen minutes until the kids would head back to Willow’s Haven on the bus “—I think we’ve given it a good effort today, and I’m pretty sure I saw some fruit Popsicles in the freezer at the store up there. Wanna go get one?”
Jerry glanced toward yet another pair clapping in the distance, then at the water in front of them, and then back at Ethan. “Sure.”
Ethan had thought the Popsicle offer would take his mind off the finicky fish, but he could tell that the little boy had really wanted to experience the same excitement his friends had this morning. “We’ll get a fish next time.” He sure hoped he wasn’t lying.
“Okay,” Jerry said, visibly unconvinced, which made Ethan regret the statement. How many adults had promised the boy something and then fallen short of delivering?
God, I know nothing is too small for You. So when we come back on Monday, can You help us catch a fish? Help me figure out what I’m doing wrong here.
Jerry placed his rod beside his tiny tackle box, which held nothing more than bobbers and sponge bait, since they were using minnows Ethan had purchased from Lindy at the store. Then he opened the lid of their small minnow bucket and watched the tiny bait fish swimming madly around the water.
Ethan peeked in, too. “They didn’t do their job today catching fish for us, did they?”
Jerry shook his head and dropped the Styrofoam lid back in place. “No, sir. They sure didn’t.”
“We’ll get some next time,” he assured Jerry again—and then said another quick prayer that he was telling the truth. “Come on, let’s go see what flavors of Popsicles they have.” He tousled Jerry’s hair, gave him a smile and was rewarded when the right corner of the little boy’s mouth lifted, sending a sprinkle of freckles dancing on his cheek.
They passed several pairs of adults and children fishing on their way to the store. Ethan had already gotten to know a few of the mentors, and he took the chance now to say hello and ask how they were faring with their attempts at catching anything. Most had caught plenty, except for one pair who had only caught one bream, which Ethan now recognized as the name of the small speckled fish the group was searching for.
He waited for Jerry to speak to any of the other kids they met along the way, but he didn’t say a word. Then again, neither did most of the other kids. Maybe they had all arrived at Willow’s Haven after sad situations and were having as difficult of a time interacting with others as Jerry. Or maybe they were merely concentrating on the task at hand, more concerned with catching fish before their time was up than communicating.
But as Ethan and Jerry passed the last fishing pair before reaching the store, Ethan noticed that the mentor wasn’t quite an adult yet. It was Brodie and Savvy Evans’s teenage son, Dylan, whom Ethan had met when the group shopped for gear on Monday. Dylan, an outgoing kid with an obvious appreciation for life in general, leaned back on his quilt and gave Jerry a playful grin. “Hey there, Jerr-Bear, how’s it going?”
Jerry stopped walking, flipped his small hands upside down to display empty palms, and explained, “We didn’t catch nothing.”
Dylan laughed. “Hey, that happens to me sometimes. Actually, it happened to me the last time I was here.” He leaned a little closer to Jerry. “You know what my dad used to tell me about those days when you don’t catch anything?”
Jerry shook his head, then he raised his eyebrows and opened his eyes wider to hear what the older, wiser kid had to say.
“He said that sometimes those fish pick who they want to play hide-and-seek with, and today they must have picked you.” Dylan playfully pointed a finger toward Jerry.
Jerry’s lip quirked to the side, his eyes squinting a little as he processed this. Then he looked up at Ethan and asked, “Will they play hide-and-seek again next time?”
Dylan laughed, and Ethan answered, “I sure hope not.”
“Me, too,” Jerry said. He didn’t look quite as disappointed as before, though. Ethan would need to learn ways to help his little boy cope with the disappointments in life. He supposed that was all part of parenting, and he’d wade through those challenges as they came. But for now he was thankful that Dylan had found a way to lift Jerry’s spirits.
Then again, Ethan had thought of the Popsicles. He looked toward the store and saw Lindy, standing on the porch watching them, her hand resting against her chest the way he’d noticed her do a few times before, as though she were moved by whatever held her attention.
And at this moment, that seemed to be Ethan and his little man.
Lindy. Something else positive in their day. She seemed so mesmerized with ordinary life, which again caused Ethan to wonder exactly what hers had been like before he met the beautiful lady that first day in the Claremont square. And before he’d found himself thinking about her on a regular basis ever since.
“There’s Miss Lindy,” Jerry said, the hint of enthusiasm in his voice matching what Ethan found himself feeling every time he saw her.
“Yep, there she is,” he agreed, noticing the way the sun highlighted the red-blond waves that tumbled past her shoulders. Today she wore a creamy yellow sleeveless top paired with a multicolored floral skirt and sandals. Most of the women he’d seen today at the fishing hole had on shorts, or capris, or cutoff jeans. But Lindy stood out from all of them in the beautiful, feminine clothes.
Then again, she stood out from all of them anyway. She was so incredibly stunning, as though she were painted into this picturesque scene instead of actually a part of it. There was just something about her that held his interest and made him never want to look away.
Ethan watched her attention land on the little guy beside him, the smile that mesmerized him obviously meant for Jerry rather than him.
Ethan shook away the odd pang of disappointment that she didn’t seem to have a smile for him. He wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship again, not after what happened with Jenny, but he couldn’t deny that he’d visualized Lindy Burnett smiling at him that way too.
“So, did y’all catch anything, Jerry?” she asked. Yup, her focus was definitely on the child, not the man.
“No, ma’am,” he said, “but Mr. Ethan said we’re going to get some Popsicles anyway.”
And with that, her gaze moved from Jerry to Ethan, and he saw a hint of appreciation in her eyes that went straight to his heart.
Amazing what a little appreciation from a gorgeous woman did for a guy’s ego.
“Good idea,” she said. “The Popsicles are in that freezer inside. What flavor do you want, Jerry? We have strawberry, grape, peach and pineapple. But you’ll want to make sure you wash your hands first. You’ve been touching those minnows, right?”
Jerry gave her a lopsided grin. “They’re slippery.”
She laughed, a soft, lilting sound that also teased Ethan’s heart. “Yes, they are. And that means you definitely want to wash those hands. The sink is at the back of the store. There’s one just for kids. And there’s some of that foaming soap beside it. You’ll want to use plenty of that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, then went inside, while Ethan stood, once again taken aback by the natural beauty and undeniable intrigue of the woman on the porch.
“No fish?” she asked softly.
“Not today,” he answered, glad for another opportunity to communicate with her. “And I’ll be honest, I have no idea what we’re doing wrong. We have the same bait as everyone else, and we’re all fishing at the same pond. I can’t understand why they seem to be hitting everyone else’s lines instead of ours.” He glanced toward the lake, where he saw one little fisherman holding up a bream and grinning toward his mentor. Ethan had so hoped to have that moment with Jerry today.
Her teeth ran over her lower lip, as though she debated what she wanted to say.
“What is it?” he asked. “If you know of something I’m doing wrong, I’d sure love to figure it out. I want this experience to be great for my little guy. Gotta tell you, I hated hearing all of his disappointed sighs every time we saw someone else with a bream on the line.”
“Bless his heart,” she whispered, peeking through the store window to see Jerry, moving from the sink to the freezer. “Maybe you should try fishing in one of the shady spots next time.”
“A shady one?” He looked toward the pond and saw their blanket and equipment still in their spot, near the center of the right side of the pond. Away from any of the cascading willows. There had been an early rain this morning that put a cool breeze in the air, and Ethan had picked the place because it hadn’t been overly hot, and he thought Jerry would enjoy sitting in the morning sun. But now he saw that the majority of mentors had selected spots near or under the trees. In fact, the only other pair that were completely in the sun were the ones who had only caught one bream. “Why are they all in the shady spots?”
She placed a crooked finger over her mouth to attempt to hide a grin, then slid her hand away. “Maybe because that’s where the fish are?”
“Seriously?” he asked.
Her mouth still fought an impulse to grin, and it made her even more appealing. And made him focus on that heart-shaped mouth. What would it be like to…
“Typically, the fish gravitate toward the shade, or logs, or submerged trees. Things like that,” she said, and Ethan pushed the unwanted thought away. Then she tilted her head and asked, “You really haven’t been fishing before?”
“Never had anyone to take me,” he said, before realizing just how much that gave away about his past. He wasn’t thinking straight, probably because he couldn’t get his mind off what it’d be like to kiss Lindy Burnett.
Her eyebrows dipped, that pretty mouth drew downward and Ethan sensed that she might be feeling pity toward him. It was not what he wanted. At all.
“Not that I ever had any inclination for fishing,” he clarified. “I probably wouldn’t have liked it that much anyway.” He forced a grin, but her questioning gaze told him she wasn’t buying it.
“My grandmother taught me,” she said.
“Your grandmother? Taught you to fish?” He’d have thought her father, or maybe her mother, but not her grandma. Everything about this lady was unique.
“My grandmother raised me,” she said, and then added, “My mother had me when she was very young and didn’t want to raise a baby as a teen. She left right after I was born.”
“You don’t see her?”
“Never have,” she said, as though it were no big deal. “But she did what was best for me. My grandmother was terrific, and I don’t have any complaints about how I grew up.”
Which extinguished his guess that her mother was the part of her troubled past that still hurt so deeply now. She didn’t seem as though she harbored any bitterness toward her.
So what had happened?
Jerry stuck his head out and announced, “I got a strawberry one.” He held up the paper-wrapped treat. “Can I eat it now?”
“Sure,” Ethan said.
He exited the store and moved toward one of the rockers. “Can I eat it here?”
This time, Lindy answered. “Of course.”
“I’ll need to pay for that,” Ethan said, “and I think I’ll get me one, too.” He looked to Lindy. “Which flavor is your favorite?”
“To be honest, I haven’t tried one yet.” Then, watching Jerry peel the paper away and take a lick, she added, “Actually, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a Popsicle.”
“Then I’d say you’re due. Which kind do you want? My treat.” He grinned. “How much are they, by the way?”
“Just a quarter, but you don’t need to get me one. I’ll have one later.” She moved toward Jerry and sat in the rocker beside him. “You like that, huh?”
Jerry smiled and nodded as he continued eating. “Yes, ma’am.”
Ethan went inside, washed his hands and grabbed two Popsicles from the freezer. Then he placed three quarters on the counter and went outside to find her still chatting with Jerry.
“Yeah, sometimes those fish do play hide-and-seek,” she said, “but I’m hoping they won’t play so well the next time.”
“Me, too,” he said, nibbling the end of his Popsicle while peering at the alluring lady.
“I got you a peach one,” Ethan said, “and put my money on the counter.” He extended the Popsicle.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, but she accepted it and then looked up at him, bright blue eyes glistening. “But thank you.”
“It’s really good,” Jerry said, while Ethan and Lindy peeled their papers away and tasted the cool treats.
Jerry glanced at Ethan, and then watched Lindy as she tried hers. “Do you like it, Miss Lindy?”
She swallowed, then nodded. “I like this,” she said, giving him a tender smile. “I like this very much.”
Ethan watched her, eating his Popsicle and sitting beside his future son, and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the popsicle. She, like Ethan, enjoyed the feeling of sitting on the porch with a little boy, spending time together on a beautiful early summer day.
And he found himself suddenly wondering if what she liked so much about this moment included him.