“Is this seat taken?”

Ethan, who’d been skimming through the list of upcoming events in the church bulletin, glanced up at the whispered comment.

“Hollis.” He rose and his sister threw her arms around his neck. The elderly couple seated across the aisle smiled indulgently at the exuberant greeting, and when Hollis finally released him, it was Connor’s turn. His future brother-in-law shook Ethan’s hand and added an affectionate cuff on the shoulder.

“What are you two doing here? You weren’t supposed to be here until Wednesday.”

“Connor’s appointments went better than we expected, so we decided to come up a few days early.”

Ethan’s lips twisted. “There’s been a lot of that going around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom’s here.”

“I was afraid that would happen,” Hollis groaned. “Mom thinks I’m going to be carrying a bouquet of dandelions and serving hot dogs cooked over an open fire at the reception. I shouldn’t have left you to deal with everything, Ethan. You’ve probably had your hands full.”

An image of Mac’s expression when Ethan swept her off her feet flashed in his mind. He remembered her howl of mock outrage when he’d tossed her over his shoulder. And the way she’d felt in his arms . . .

“He’s smiling.” Hollis looked at her fiancé. “Why is he smiling?”

“You keep telling me that fresh air is good for people.”

It was more than fresh air. It was Mackenzie. Ethan hadn’t had that much fun in months. Years, even. Sure, he squeezed in time at the gym when he wasn’t at the clinic, but his workout was disciplined. Designed to yield the maximum amount of benefit in the shortest amount of time.

Somehow Mac had known just what he’d needed. A football and a stretch of green grass.

And then his mother had shown up.

Five minutes later, Mac had herded the players into the van and driven away, taking some of the sunlight with her.

“Mornin’, Ethan!”

“Hey, Coach.” Ethan felt a stab of disappointment when he realized Mac wasn’t with her father. “You remember my sister, Hollis, don’t you? And this is Connor Blake, her fiancé. Connor, Ben Davis.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Connor extended his hand.

“Call me Coach.” Mac’s dad chuckled. “I don’t know how to answer to anything else.” His gaze shifted to Hollis. “Mackenzie is volunteering in the nursery, but you should stop in and say hello after the service. I know she’s looking forward to interviewing you for the Register.”

“Mac?” Hollis turned to Ethan. “She’s the one writing the story?”

“She’s their reporter . . . and the photographer,” Ethan said. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No.” Hollis frowned. “As a matter of fact, you didn’t.”

Coach smiled. “Well, you both will have some catching up to do.”

The pastor returned to the podium, and the buzz of conversation dropped to a whisper as everyone shuffled back to their seats.

“What’s the matter?” Ethan asked as they sat down again. “Mac grew up next door to us. You have to remember her.”

“I remember her,” Hollis murmured. “I’m just hoping she doesn’t remember me.”

Ethan was a little puzzled by the cryptic statement, but he didn’t have an opportunity to question her further because the worship team took their places at the front of the church.

The congregation joined in the opening song and Ethan struggled to remember the words. On the rare Sundays when he wasn’t working in the ER, he’d tried to catch up on his sleep.

Ethan bowed his head and let the music flow over him.

He and God definitely had some catching up to do too.