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THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY, Jessica decided to take a break from her work to explore the farm. Brutus joined her. The dog had been missing his master. The day after Ethan’s departure, Brutus had wandered searchingly throughout every room in the house, his nose to the floor. That night, she’d been awakened by a woeful howl resonating from the kitchen. When she’d gone downstairs to quiet him, Brutus had almost knocked her flat with his ecstatic greeting. He’d whined forlornly when she’d turned to leave. “Oh, all right,” she’d relented. “You can come upstairs. Only just this once.”
He’d slept outside Ethan’s room that night, the second night outside of hers. By the end of the week, he’d made himself at home on the braided rug beside her bed. She’d grown accustomed to his steady, reassuring breathing. Truth be told, she was beginning to like the dog more than she dared admit. Last week she would’ve shaken with fright if the animal had so much as looked at her. Ethan had been right; it was better to face her fears directly than to allow them to torment her forever.
A steady breeze from the Pacific mitigated the hazy warmth of the day. In the cherry orchards, the trees swayed gently, their branches drooping close to the ground under the weight of ripening fruit. Faded pink and white blossoms speckled the loamy earth. Jessica lingered for a while amongst the trees, soaking in the fragrant smells, her face tilted towards the sun. The house and outbuildings couldn’t be seen from here. For a while, she let herself imagine that she was in a different world, much as she’d done when she was a little girl, tunneling through the hay fields on her father’s ranch.
Brutus was snorting into an unearthed rabbit hole near the base of a tree. He sent a panting look in her direction, his chocolate eyes begging her approval, paws poised to dig.
“No, Brutus. Let’s leave the animals in peace.”
He gave a petulant whine before bouncing off to his next adventure. She laughed, following him. He obviously knew where he was going as he led her towards an adjoining apple orchard. A faint trail wound through the trees and up a hill. The trees thinned as she drew closer to the crest. Ahead of her, Brutus came to the rise and then darted out of sight.
Reaching the top of the hill, Jessica paused to catch her breath. She stood, captivated, looking around her. Through a circle of oak trees lay one of the most beautiful views she’d ever seen. The hill overlooked a small green valley abloom with hundreds of orange poppies. A creek wound its way through the valley; the water rippled from the breeze, reflecting countless sparkling suns on its surface. A willow tree stood in a bend of the creek, branches dipping close to the water like a woman bending forward to wash her hair.
Jessica remained as she was for a long time, absorbing the breathtaking vista. Only when Brutus lunged past in a futile chase to catch a squirrel did she notice the orange painted markers in the ground a short distance to her right. Curious, she wandered over for a closer look.
Someone had partitioned off what appeared to be the floor plan of a house. Lines of string connected each wooden stake. Yes, this must be the front entrance. Here, the kitchen. Living room there. And that must be, should be, the master bedroom, with its delectable view of the valley. If this were her home, she would put a terrace outside the bedroom. What a pleasure it would be to sit outside in the early morning with a cup of coffee, to snuggle with her husband on a lounge chair.
All at once it struck her like a blow. This must be the house Zelda had mentioned when she and Ethan had their argument about the bed and breakfast. “I want you to finish building that house you were planning back in February.” Those had been her words. February. Ethan would still have been engaged to Angelica. Was this the home he’d wanted to share with her? Had he brought her here to this place and shown her his vision? Had they planned it together? There was a sudden bitter taste in Jessica’s mouth. She stepped over the string, putting distance between herself and that imaginary cup of morning coffee.
Brutus suddenly shot past her in a blur, barking madly. She watched him with a vague frown, wondering what furry creature he was chasing this time. He dashed towards the circle of oak trees where a figure stood waiting in the shadows.
“Hey, Brutus. I’m home, buddy. Did you miss me?”
Ethan.
Her first instinct was to turn and run. She wasn’t ready to see him. She suddenly realized that she would probably never be able to see him without her heart racing out of control. She couldn’t quite grasp what that meant just yet. Regardless, running away wasn’t going to change anything. With all her might, she schooled her features into what she hoped was a calm expression while Ethan crouched down in front of Brutus and allowed his face to be slathered with happy dog kisses. She heard him laugh, and this compounded her confused feelings. He didn’t seem angry. In fact, he looked almost relaxed as he straightened up and walked towards her with an easy, loose-limbed stride. Her eyes skittered away from his face, noting that he was wearing slim flit blue jeans and a white shirt with sleeves rolled back to the elbows. She swallowed nervously as he paused a few feet away from her. He put his hands in his pockets, rocking back slightly on his heels. For a moment, he seemed as uneasy as she.
“You’re still here.”
She tilted her chin in a defiant angle. “As you can see.”
His eyes gleamed briefly with something akin to admiration. “Gram says you’ve been working hard. Two bedrooms painted already, and all by yourself, I hear.”
“One and a half. The Rose Room needs another coat.”
“The Rose Room?” He gave a wry smile. “Sounds like the White House. Do all the rooms have names?”
“Yes. It helps to create a certain ambience.”
“What’s my room called?”
She briefly glanced away before her eyes traveled circumspectly back to his. She hadn’t been inside his room since the night he’d kissed her. “I think we decided on the Sunset Room because the windows face west.”
He pulled a hand from his pocket, reaching up to rub his jaw. He tugged his gaze away from her, staring vacantly at the valley below. Eventually, he said, “I assume you’ll want me to move my things out of there so you can paint.”
She took a startled breath. “You’re okay with everything then?”
With a sigh of resignation, he turned to her. “I will agree with anything that makes my grandmother happy.” Then his brow furrowed in warning. “But I’ll call in the family troops if there’s any sign of stress on her health.”
Jessica gave a sound of dismay. Zelda had been scrambling up ladders yesterday, pulling down the draperies for cleaning. “I hadn’t considered. Does she have some condition I should be concerned about?”
His eyes warmed at her genuine worry. “No,” he assured her. “I doubt she’s been sick a day in her life. And I don’t ever want her to be.”
“You love her a great deal,” she observed softly.
He brought his other hand out of his pocket and folded his arms across his chest. “If I didn’t love my grandmother as much as I do, Jessica, it’s very unlikely that you’d still be here.” He raised his hand at her little gasp of protest. “All right, I’ve made my point. You’re here. Gram is happy. I’m not going to argue this case any longer.”
Relief washed over her. A hint of a smile played across her face. How very lawyerly he’d sounded just now. She could picture him in suit and tie, arguing his case before a jury. God forbid Zelda was the judge, however; she’d tear the hide off of him if he got all high and mighty with her.
Well, Jessica wasn’t going to argue. He’d given his blessing at last. That was all that mattered right now. “About your room,” she said, returning to his earlier comment. “I don’t think I’ll get in there until next week. Jake has to do some work in the attic above that room first.”
“You’ve met Jake?”
“A few days ago.” She grinned. “He’s a great guy.”
Ethan’s expression turned sharp. “Don’t get any ideas where he’s concerned,” he warned. “Jake’s been in love with my little sister since they were kids.”
She looked at him aghast. “I didn’t say I wanted to marry him!” She threw her hands in the air in consternation. “What is it with you? I don’t know how to talk to you without you snapping at me or kis—” She bit her lip, and swiftly turned away from him.
There was a thick silence. “About the other night—”
“It’s already forgotten,” she avowed.
“Is it?”
She scratched the back of her neck, feeling his fixed stare. She wandered back to the markers. “Is this where you’re going to build that house Zelda mentioned?”
Even with her back toward him, she still sensed that he wanted to discuss the unfortunate kiss. There was a lengthy pause before he answered her. “That was my plan at one time.” He followed her as she walked distractedly through the markers.
“I think it’s a lovely spot,” she babbled. “You should have as many windows as possible facing the valley. It’s such a gorgeous view. And I hope you have an enormous kitchen planned out, with lots of seating space. I mean, that’s everybody’s favorite gathering place, so you want to make it comfy. I would imagine.” She almost tripped over a line of string but pretended not to notice as she gushed, “There should be a breakfast nook, facing east, where the sunshine can sift through lacy curtains every morning.”
“Thanks for the suggestions.” He sounded both amused and slightly impatient. “I’ll keep them in mind.”
Skirting a tree stump, her foot nudged a loose mound of dirt. Ethan was just behind her. “Is this where the front door will be? Will there be a porch?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe. Look, will you please stand still for just a minute? I want to say something.”
Captured by the gravity in his tone, she turned around. He’d paused near the tree stump. He put one foot on the stump, bracing a hand on his thigh and leaning forward. Conflicting emotions skidded across his features. His mouth twisted in an awkward grimace. He held her gaze steady as he spoke carefully. “I want you to know that I’m not the kind of guy who imposes himself on a woman, like I did with y—”
All at once, he jerked upright, a flash of pain in his eyes. He looked down at the base of the tree stump. Jessica followed his befuddled stare. There was a distant, ominous humming sound, seeming to come from the earth beneath his feet. Her chest tightened with sudden knowledge and trepidation.
“Ethan! Get away from there!”
Her instinctive warning came just as a dark cloud of furious yellow jackets, disturbed from their underground lair by his foot, encircled his legs and then swarmed upwards in a thick mass. Jessica gasped as she watched him fling his arms up to protect his head. He seemed too stunned to move.
Without a second thought, she bounded towards him, snared her arm around his waist and hauled him down the hill towards the creek. “Run, Ethan! Move!”
The angry droning sound filled her ears. She felt the insects flicking against her exposed arms and legs. Ethan’s shirt was barely visible beneath a cloud of black and yellow. Thinking of his safety, not hers, she propelled them both towards the creek. It seemed to take forever to reach the bottom of the hill. Just as they arrived at the water’s edge, she felt a sharp sting on the top of her sandaled left foot. Ignoring the pain, she shoved Ethan into the creek and jumped in after him.
He still seemed shocked, standing stock-still in the knee-deep water. “What the dev—?”
“Get your head under the water,” she commanded. “Now!”
He gave her a look of pure amazement as she put her hand on the back of his head and shoved him beneath the surface. She quickly followed suit, and none too soon, as the yellow jackets swarmed above them. Chilly water enveloped her. She swept one hand up and down Ethan’s back, making sure that he was completely submerged. When he made a sudden move to resurface, she rolled so that she was half on top of him, one leg hooked around both of his.
Keep still, her hands urged. She thought she could still hear the terrifying humming sound underwater. And he did stay motionless for a moment, until the pressing need to breathe overcame them both. She spilled off his back as he surged upwards, rising to his knees on the sandy creek bottom. She tottered backwards, flailing underwater for a handhold to push her body upright. A firm tug on her shirt collar brought her to the surface. She rose to a kneeling position, sucking air, face to face with Ethan. Shaking the water from her eyes, her ears twitched for the sound of yellow jackets, but the only sound was Brutus’s frantic barking as he raced back and forth along the water’s edge.
“Are you all right?” Ethan asked, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. He ran his hand through his wet hair, his glance skimming over her. His forehead was wrinkled with concern.
She brushed her hair away from her face, her eyes darting around. “I think so. Are they gone?”
“It looks that way.” His voice was warm with admiration. “That was a smart move, going to the water. What made you think of it?”
She gazed up at him, glowing from his approval. “I’m not sure. Maybe my father taught me what to do.” She stretched a hand toward him, touched his arm and, just as quickly, pulled her hand away. “You were stung. Where did they get you?”
“Just one on my leg, I think. Just above my sock.” He grimaced. “Come on, let’s get on dry land.”
Standing, he took her elbow and hoisted her upright. Drenched as he was from head to toe, she could see his golden skin showing clearly through his white shirt. Jessica glanced down at her blouse, grateful that she’d worn a dark blue shirt today. Even so, the saturated material clung revealingly to her breasts. Embarrassed, she peeked at Ethan, but he appeared not to have noticed as he steered her towards the bank.
Brutus greeted them with slobbering licks as they both plopped down on a dry patch of grass. They lay there for a moment, still catching their breaths. Deciding they were all right, the dog ambled away. Ethan sat up, removed his shoes and socks and rolled up his right pant leg. “Here it is,” he said, rubbing a finger over the reddened spot on his leg. “Looks like just this one.” He turned to her. “Are you sure you didn’t get stung?”
She’d been moving her hands over her face, arms and legs, searching for bumps. A slight throb on top of her left foot caught her attention. “On my foot.” She shuddered. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. They came out of nowhere.”
“It was probably an old gopher hole. Sometimes they’ll take over.” He sat on his heels in front of her, lifting her left foot and propping it on his thigh. Carefully, he slipped off her sandal. A damp lock of hair fell across his forehead as he bent over her foot. She inhaled swiftly as his fingers brushed tenderly against her skin. His gaze flitted up, coming to rest on the staccato pulse at the base of her neck. He swallowed, lowering his head. “He got you right in the vein. Maybe more than once from the look of this. Are you allergic to bees?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
She flinched a little as he lightly touched the area around the sting where her skin was red and starting to swell. He carefully lowered her foot to the ground before crawling over to the edge of the creek to pack some mud into his hands. Returning, he settled her foot on his thigh once again and pressed the mud onto her skin. The throb lessened immediately; the mud was pleasantly cool. “Brave girl,” he said under his breath, lightly rubbing his fingers along the top of her foot.
“That feels much better.” Her voice trembled. “Thank you.”
He looked up at her; his hand stalled. They stared at each other for a breathless moment before he gently placed her foot on the ground and sat back. “So, now we’re even,” he murmured, bemused.
She stretched her arms behind her and leaned back, her palms planted on the ground. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.
“I rescued you last Saturday. You rescued me today.”
“You rescued me? That’s a laugh.” Her eyes twinkled with mock reproach. “May I remind you that you ordered me off the property? That wasn’t exactly a rescue. It was your grandmother who really helped me.”
His mouth twitched. “And what about Brutus? He was ready to attack you.”
With hindsight, knowing how harmless the dog was, she could now speak with confidence. “Oh, that. I’m sure he would’ve grown bored with me after a while and gone chasing after a squirrel.”
Ethan quirked one eyebrow.
“And besides,” she continued. “I’m not some helpless Pauline tied to the train tracks. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” Suddenly, she let out a whoop of laughter. “Oh, you should’ve seen your expression when those yellow jackets came out of that hole! It was classic.”
“And you should see yourself right now,” he growled. “You look like you’ve been through the rinse cycle in the washer.”
Jessica looked down at her waterlogged jeans and soaked blouse. Rivulets of water ran down her bare arms. She was covered with patches of sand and dirt. With a wry purse of her lips, she glanced at Ethan. His hair was sopping. Water droplets trickled down his face and fell from his chin. His shirt was clamped to his chest. He was just as wet and dirty as she. Helpless laughter gurgled from her throat. Oh, if Lorna could only see her daughter now! “Look at us both,” she choked through her laughter.
Ethan grinned, shaking his head; his features were warm with surprise and wonder. Her reaction to their circumstances seemed to please him enormously. As his gaze tracked across her features, noting the flush of her cheeks, the white of her flashing teeth, the mirth in her blue eyes, he began to chuckle, then he threw his head back and laughed just as loudly as she.
Jessica took huge gulps of air, trying futilely to reel in her laughter, but every time she caught Ethan’s twinkling eyes, the laughter rippled out again. It was the same for him. Perhaps it was the culmination of events that had led them to this moment, the anxiety, stress, wariness and uncertainty—the tumult of feelings that had seemed to consume them both—had inevitably led to this complete abandonment of defenses and pretense.
Brutus returned, baffled by the commotion. He padded back and forth between them, licking one face and then the other before flopping down in confusion. The dog’s confused expression made them laugh even more.
Finally, their laughter began to dissipate. Jessica clutched her stomach. “We must’ve looked so funny! I’ve never run so fast in my life!”
“I didn’t know what was happening at first. You looked like a wild woman, barreling towards me.” He’d come to sit beside her, leaning back on his palms, legs stretched out on the sparse grass. “There I was trying to apologize to you, and you looked ready to knock me flat.”
Jessica’s ribs were aching. “I didn’t even think. It must’ve been my father who taught me what to do.” A mischievous smile tilted her lips. “I guess I was always getting into one scrape or another when I was a kid. He wanted to make sure I could take care of myself if he wasn’t around. I was such a tomboy.”
Ethan angled his head towards her. “Funny,” he considered. “I would’ve pictured you in frilly dresses, playing with your dolls.”
“Not me!” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her bent legs. There was diffidence in her tone as she said, “I had this raggedy pair of jeans I would’ve slept in if I could get away with it. I must’ve been such a pest, following my father and brother around the ranch...” She hesitated, realizing what she was saying, and so calmly, without the usual twisting pain deep inside. She sent Ethan a cautious look.
His features were relaxed, his eyes kind. “You lived on a ranch? Where?”
“Texas,” she replied quietly. “I was born there. The ranch was in my family, much like this place. My great-grandfather was what you might call a cattle baron. And my grandfather struck oil on the property back in the twenties.”
He sat forward, mirroring her hunched position, crossing his arms over his knees. “Why aren’t you there now?”
Jessica stared pensively into the distance. Memories, long buried in her heart, transformed into words never spoken until now. Her voice was clear, yet taut with control. “When I was eight, my father and my older brother, Robby, were killed in a helicopter crash. They were doing the fall roundup.”
Ethan remained silent. Although he wasn’t touching her, she felt his gentle patience like an arm curving around her shoulders. His eyes fixed on her profile as the words came gushing out like water from a broken dam. “I remember the day so clearly. Like it was only yesterday. It was so hot. Lorna was in the kitchen canning the last of the tomatoes, and I was waiting on the front porch for Daddy and Robby to come home. I was mad because my father hadn’t let me come with them. He told me to stay and help my moth—Lorna. Those were his last words to me.” She swallowed. “Then Billy, our ranch foreman, came tearing up the drive in his truck. As soon as he got out, I knew something bad had happened. His face was so white. He went into the house. I followed him into the kitchen. ‘There’s been an accident,’ he said. ‘The chopper went down.’ Lorna asked if Robby and Daddy were all right. She kept asking that. Over and over. Are they all right? Are they all right? And Billy just shook his head. She had a jar of tomatoes in her hand, and it tipped over and spilled red all over the floor...”
There was a prolonged silence, interspersed with the sound of the breeze rippling over the water and stirring the fragile branches of the willow tree on the other side of the creek. A single tear rolled down Jessica’s cheek. With a husky sound of distress, Ethan reached over and took her hands, loosening them from around her knees. She’d had them clenched so tightly together, the knuckles were showing white. He kept one hand in his comforting clasp, his fingers curling around hers.
She had to finish. She had to tell him everything, not knowing why. “We buried them there. At the ranch. There’s a family plot on a hill behind the main house. The day after the funeral, Lorna started packing. We moved to Dallas the following week. Then New York. Then Europe.”
“You’ve never gone back to Texas?”
She shook her head.
“Did your mother sell the ranch?”
“Yes, to my father’s cousin. But she kept our shares in the oil company.”
His eyes probed her pale features. “You were angry with your mother for selling it.”
“When I first found out, yes.” She gave a brief, bitter laugh. “I had this crazy notion that I could run the place myself. That my father would want me there. I ran away once when we were still in Dallas. I made it to the bus station, but I didn’t have enough money for a ticket. So, I went back to the hotel. Lorna didn’t even know that I’d left.” She shivered uncontrollably.
“You’re cold,” he said at once, rising to his feet and tugging her up to stand beside him. He kept her fingers interlocked with his. “Let’s get back to the house and get some dry clothes on you.”
She glanced down at their joined hands, and then tilted her face up to his. Gratitude she couldn’t give voice to shone in her eyes. “And you too,” she murmured.
Something strange and wonderful glimmered in his expression as he softly agreed. “And me too.”
***
THERE WAS HARMONY AT the dinner table that evening. Zelda was all smiles, filling the lulls in conversation with her pleasant chatter. Whatever friction had existed between grandmother and grandson was apparently resolved. While relieved at this new accord, Jessica couldn’t ignore the friction within herself; she was at odds with her own feelings. On the one hand, she felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted from her now that she’d shared with Ethan the tragedy that had cut short her carefree childhood. Yet, she couldn’t keep from wondering why she’d been able to talk with Ethan about it when she’d never been able to do that with anyone else. She’d given him a glimpse into her most secret self, and now she felt ill at ease. He knew more about her than she did about him.
He’d been so kind to her today. Taking her hand in a consoling gesture. Kneeling down to slide her sandal back on her foot. Escorting her with a hand on her elbow or a palm against her lower back as they journeyed back to the house. All given without any further questions about her past. In fact, other than a casual comment here and there, they’d walked in companionable silence, each, it seemed, lost in their own individual thoughts. Once back at the house, she’d taken a shower and washed her hair. She’d taken unusual care in selecting her attire for dinner: a pale pink linen sundress, a moss green sweater to cover her shoulders, and a delicate silver chain with a diamond teardrop around her neck.
She was quiet throughout most of the meal, letting Zelda and Ethan carry the conversation. She wasn’t unaware of Ethan’s frequent, searching glances in her direction, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly. When dinner was over, she volunteered to do the dishes so that Zelda could watch her favorite television program. She assumed that Ethan would have outdoor chores to do, but he remained in the kitchen with her. He cleared the table while she filled the sink with soap and water.
Outside it was dusk. She could see Ethan’s reflection in the window above the sink as he walked around the table, stacking plates and silverware. She lowered her eyes from the window at his approach. He set the dishes on the counter next to her. “Thank you,” she said.
“If you wring out that washcloth for me, I’ll wipe down the table.”
She silently complied, handing the washcloth to him without meeting his questioning gaze. He stood there for a few seconds and then turned away. Jessica released her breath, unaware until that moment that she’d been holding it in. Hurriedly, she began washing the dishes, eager to get the task over and done with.
Ethan returned to the counter and reached for the handle on the cupboard door under the sink. The back of his hand brushed against her bare leg, and she flinched. “Excuse me,” he said. “I need a towel.”
She moved aside while he retrieved the towel. He snapped it open. “I’ll dry,” he said.
“That’s okay,” she demurred. “I can do it.”
“You are talking to an expert dish dryer here,” he replied in a light, bantering tone. “I never miss a spot.” When she didn’t respond to his teasing, he sighed. “Jessica, what’s the matter?”
She rinsed a plate and set it on the drain board. “Nothing’s the matter.”
“Then why haven’t you been able to put together a complete sentence all evening? What is it? Is your foot bothering you?”
His concern was real. She glanced briefly at his reflection in the window. “It’s just a little sore,” she murmured, latching on to the convenient excuse for her behavior.
“Why don’t you sit down while I finish.”
She reached for a glass and submerged it in the warm water. “I’m almost done. Oh!” Her pulse fluttered when he suddenly plunged his hand in the water and took her wrist in a light clasp. She made a pretense of pulling free while relishing a thrill of pleasure at his touch.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. A smile dimpled the corner of his mouth. His eyes were bright as a new penny. She couldn’t resist smiling in response. “That’s much better,” he praised. “I was beginning to think you were still mad at me.”
She shook her head. “I’m not mad at you. It’s just...”
His fingers tightened slightly. “What?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, slanting her eyes from his curious stare. “Today’s been kind of strange for me. I guess I’m just tired.”
“Do you always act like the cat got your tongue when you’re tired?”
She didn’t respond, knowing that if she opened her mouth she would probably weep. His kindness, after all the conflict between them, was still too new, too overwhelming and confusing.
Ethan finally relinquished her wrist and handed her the dishtowel. “Dry your hands and sit down. I want to take another look at that foot.”
Jessica silently complied, even as she wondered why she just didn’t slip out of the kitchen and retreat to the security of her bedroom. The sounds of Zelda’s television program filtered in from the living room as Ethan drained the water out of the sink and wiped down the counters. He snapped the towel again before folding it neatly over the oven door handle. “Did you want some coffee?” he asked.
“No. I’d be awake all night.”
“Tea then. With milk?”
Her face softened. “You remembered.”
He just smiled as he filled the teakettle with water and set it on the burner. While the water heated, he came over to her, sliding a chair away from the table and sitting down in front of her. “Now, let’s take a look at that foot. Put it here.” He patted his thigh.
She lifted her foot and gingerly rested it where indicated. Her foot had been too swollen to wear sandals, so she’d worn slippers instead. He removed her slipper and lowered his head to examine the sore area. She felt the heat of his skin through his khakis. She twitched slightly when his thumb lightly brushed across her skin. “This is still pretty swollen. Probably because that nasty little bugger got you directly on the vein. Let’s put some ice on it.”
His caution struck her as unnecessary, yet oddly endearing as he stood and carefully placed her foot on the vacated seat. She watched beneath a fringe of dark lashes as he went to the fridge and pulled an ice tray from the freezer. He rolled a few cubes into a fresh, damp dishtowel. The teakettle whistled as he returned to her side. He wrapped the homemade icepack around her foot. “Can you hold that while I get the tea?”
“I think I can manage.” The lightness in her voice masked the surge of tension set off by his touch.
Ethan came back to the table with her tea, along with a spoon, napkin and a bottle of pills. “Ibuprofen,” he indicated, tapping two tablets onto his palm and setting them on the table next to her teacup. “Let me get the milk.”
“You’re not having any?” she asked, noting the one teacup.
“Maybe later.” Seeing her awkward maneuverings to pour the milk and hold the icepack against her foot at the same time, he took the jug from her. “Here, let me.”
Watching him pour a dollop of milk into her teacup and stir it with a spoon, her thoughts wandered back to her first night in this kitchen. Had it only been one week ago? Then, he’d treated her with cold distrust. Now, his features were open, the hard contours of his mouth relaxed in a smile, laugh lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. Jessica said a silent thank you to that angry yellow jacket that had unwittingly instigated this transformation. She couldn’t help but smile, amused at the idea of thanking a predatory insect.
Ethan had returned the milk to the fridge and was coming back to the table. “Don’t start that again,” he warned, observing her expression. “My sides still ache from this afternoon.” He sat down across the table from her.
“Good thing we weren’t caught on video,” she giggled. “That would have gone viral by now.” She took a sip of tea, catching his responding glimmer of amusement over the rim of her cup.
“Don’t forget to take those,” he said, indicating the ibuprofen tablets.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Yes, Boss.”
After downing the pills, she relaxed in her chair, slowly sipping her tea, staring vaguely at the oak grain of the tabletop. She felt him watching her, his demeanor alert.
“Ask me something,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.
She raised her eyes to his. “Pardon?”
His look was gently probing. “I’ve been thinking you might feel a little cheated. You shared something with me today that I think maybe you’ve never told anyone before. Am I right?”
His perceptiveness was remarkable. She stared at him in astonishment before nodding her head.
His chair creaked as he leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “So, ask me something about myself.”
“Anything?”
“Well.” He took a considering pause. “Anything except for my crush on Meredith Applethwaite in second grade. That’s just too personal. But anything else. Go ahead.”
Her mouth twitched. “You actually had a crush on a girl named Meredith Applethwaite?”
Ethan threw a hand over his eyes in a silent movie gesture. “Please,” he implored melodramatically. “I still can’t bear to hear her name.”
“You said it first.”
He gave her a look.
“Okay.” She took a few seconds to ponder. “Were you able to take care of that unfinished business in the city?”
“That’s it? That’s your question?”
“You mean, I only get one?” she inquired with a trace of genuine dismay.
His soft laugh floated across the table. “We’ll see.” Then his tone turned serious. “I had to tie up some loose ends on a project I’d been working on before I left Garner and Wade. The client called me for advice since I was the most familiar with the issue.”
“Is it all settled?”
“My part in it is. I referred him to another law firm. One that I could trust.”
She raised one eyebrow. “You don’t trust Garner and Wade?”
“I did once.” He brought himself forward in his chair, folding his hands on the table and looking down at them. “I chose to work for the firm because they had a top-notch team of lawyers, including a former professor of mine from Stanford. I felt honored to be working amongst them, especially after learning that I was the youngest recruit they’d ever hired.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-four. And pretty naïve when I think back on those first years.” He looked grim. “I spent the better part of six years working my tail off to impress Jacob Wade. When he invited me to dinner at his home after I’d helped close a huge deal for one of our clients, and then introduced me to his beautiful daughter, I thought, ‘Man, I’ve finally made it. This is the Good Life everyone dreams about.’ I had a great job, I was dating the boss’s daughter, and I lived in a high-rise condo with an incredible view of San Francisco Bay. It seemed too fantastic to be true. And it was.”
Jessica was captivated. “So, what happened?”