"How's diaper duty?"
"Not bad if it's only wet, otherwise my fine motor skills need improvement."
She chuckled and retrieved the bottle. "I can see that. Shall we head to the living room with the more comfortable chairs?"
Ethan nodded at her and even on crutches with an injured hand he still beat her into the other room.
"You really are good on those."
He shrugged.
"Something tells me you're good at a lot of things." She hadn't meant anything untoward by the statement, but the way the corner of his lips tipped up and his eyes twinkled, she had the feeling that was exactly where his mind had gone. Having spent most of her life studying or working rather than socializing, her faux-pas filter didn't always work, and damned if she didn't feel the embarrassed flush rushing to her cheeks.
"You're awfully cute when you blush."
"Oh Lord." She wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. Thirty-one years old and the nicest thing a good looking man can say is she's cute. And why? Because she still blushed with the ease of a virtuous teenager? "I'm not a virgin."
Ethan's eyes widened in surprise and then twinkled with amusement. "Um, no, I, uh, wouldn't guess you were."
Now she seriously wanted to hide in a corner. Why the hell did she say that out loud? And what else was he supposed to say now. "Do you want to feed her or shall I?"
He smiled sweetly at her lame attempt to avoid the dumb bomb she'd dropped. "Would you like to?"
"Yes. Yes, I would." Besides needing the distraction, something to do with her hands and someplace else to look besides into those gorgeous twinkling green eyes, she really did want to connect with her little niece more than she'd realized. With the sweet bundle cradled in her arms, Allison forgot all about her verbal blunder, and the frustration she felt every time anyone pointed out how young she was or how inexperienced.
Brittany sucked away, her hand resting on Allison's fingers. Her heart swelled in her chest, almost robbing her of breath. She worked with babies day in and day out. Nothing escaped her when it came to understanding just how miraculous every healthy baby was, but this was her own flesh and blood, the closest thing to her own child on this planet. The reality was mind boggling. As was the connection this child had formed with her father. As fascinated as Brittany was with the new face playing with her and feeding her, every few seconds she'd look across to where her father sat.
Ethan must have noticed too. "I'm usually the only one who feeds her in the daytime."
Another lump formed in her chest. Only a few weeks and daughter and father had bonded. "She loves you already."
"I love her. I didn't fathom how much I could love another human being. Don't really understand why it's any different than how much I love the rest of my family, but it is. Different, I mean."
Allison nodded. "Yes, I bet it is."
What would be in her niece's best interest didn't seem so glaringly obvious to her any more. So what the hell was she supposed to do now?
Chapter Twelve
"If your aunt finds out I let you drive she's going to take out one of those rifles and shoot me," Catherine said.
"Nonsense." Ethan tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It had taken some convincing and a little demonstration that he could indeed drive the pickup with his left foot, but he desperately needed to feel in control of something for a little bit. Even if it was only the truck on the ride home. "Aunt Eileen wants more Farradays and she already knows you can procreate. You're perfectly safe."
"Safe isn't the first word that comes to mind." Catherine leaned back in the passenger seat and crossed her arms. "We are going to stop outside the ranch and switch places."
"Chicken."
"Survival instinct," she deadpanned and then smiled.
Ethan laughed. Of the new women in the Farraday family he knew Catherine the least. Not that he'd known the others much better, but at least he'd been home for Adam's wedding and gotten a chance to get to know Meg and Toni. Catherine joined the picture after Ethan had returned to the sandbox. Over the last twenty-four hours he'd come to know her a lot better, between battling for Brittany and driving back and forth to the ranch. No wonder his brother loved her. Two spitfires. "Did you two decide on a date finally?"
"The date wasn't the problem."
"That's right. Vegas versus Aunt Eileen."
Catherine laughed. "I don't believe Vegas was ever mentioned. At least not in earnest."
"No. I'm pretty sure when my brother said he'd be happy putting you in a car and not stopping till he found a preacher in Vegas, he wasn't kidding." Ethan took his gaze from the road and looked Catherine in the eyes. "You do realize just how much my brother wants to make you his wife?" From the face splitting grin that took over, Ethan was pretty sure she did and that the feeling was very mutual. "So where's the problem?"
"There isn't a problem. I've been married before in an elaborate celebration to rival the royal wedding. I don't need that again."
"But Aunt Eileen wants it?" He'd thought that every woman wanted a big, splashy wedding but he hadn't thought that Catherine had already been there, done that.
"I know Connor doesn't care for a big wedding any more than I do. But with Brooks having had such a small private ceremony, making a fuss seems to mean a great deal to your aunt."
He loved that his aunt's feelings were as important to Catherine as to all of his siblings.
"We just needed for Becky and DJ to start making plans."
"I'm confused. Why?"
"Because Becky has never been married. She's that sugar and spice and everything nice kind of gal who probably envisioned every detail of her wedding from the moment she hit puberty."
Ethan bit his tongue. Catherine was probably right, but there was no point in bringing up that those plans had most likely included him and not DJ. At least until recently.
"Don't get all nostalgic on me." Catherine shot him a pointed glare. "You were a crush, DJ is the love of her life and Becky deserves all the fun and hoopla that's going to go with two townfolk tying the knot. Now that Aunt Eileen can get carried away planning the wedding of the year with her best friend, she's more reasonable about a smaller wedding for us. Not as private as Brooks but not the society event of the year either."
"So what you're saying is…"
Catherine smiled. "Hopefully before you have to leave. Four weeks from today."
If he weren't on the road Ethan would have pulled her into a “welcome to the family” bear squishing hug. "I may still be hobbling, but I'll be there."
"You should be in a walking boot soon, right?"
He nodded. "Should be." He also might be on his way to Pendleton again. So much more was yet to be decided besides wedding dates for his brothers who were dropping like flies in a sugar coma. "Do you think the judge will have approved the release of rights by then?"
"It's a possibility."
"You're worried about Allison?" He chanced a glance in her direction.
"Not really. In the end she doesn't have a leg to stand on if she wants to interfere with your custody of Brittany. It's just that things could drag on awkwardly if she decides to pursue any legal action."
Ethan squeezed the steering wheel again, yearning to feel the cool hard surface under both his hands. "So you think she's going to do something?"
"I don't know. You've spent more time with her today than all of us combined. What do you think she wants?"
And wasn't that an interesting question. Yesterday he would have said hands down that she wanted custody of Brittany. Today, he wasn't so sure. The look on her face showed that she was already in love with the little girl. And he didn't doubt she was hoping for custody, but he wondered if she wasn't really after something else. Something humanly impossible. Saving a family that never really was.
***
Some things made no sense in life. It was the hardest thing for Allison to accept. As a doctor she wanted black and white answers to everything. Good or bad. Bu
t life had a way of handing out nothing but shades of gray. For the last few hours since Ethan and Brittany had left, she'd made a serious effort at work. The little emergency patient who had delayed her departure for Texas was doing what came naturally, healing fast and well. Allison reached out to Brooks Farraday about his tumor patient and he'd immediately jumped at the chance for a renowned opinion. From the sound of it, all the Farradays and half the town would jump through a hoop of fire to help their friend. She liked that idea.
Movies, books, and folklore touted the glories of small town living. Allison was pretty sure she'd never believed any of it. Human nature was too flawed for an Ozzie and Harriet lifestyle. She was beginning to rethink that philosophy.
When she'd showed up downstairs looking to clear her thoughts, Meg had offered to fix her a snack. Had Meg not been so close to the problem, Allison would have relished a chance to talk out her situation. As it was, she was having a hard time understanding why Meg and Adam were being so nice to her. If this had been the movie of the week, there would be plots and treachery around every corner scheming to run her out of town on a rail.
For all she knew maybe there was scheming and plotting about how to get rid of her once and for all, and the friendly banter and sweet smiles were all a pleasant façade. A Trojan horse. Though she doubted it seriously. No, instead of talking off her hostess' ear, Allison found herself walking up Main Street on her way to the old café. This time she was able to take in the shops along the way. For a few minutes she peered inside the Cut and Curl, fascinated by the line of old hairdryers along the back wall. Scenes from some of her favorite movies depicting women in the fifties gossiping under the huge metallic contraptions flittered through her mind.
Not far along, the shop named Sisters caught her eye. The window display held an array of varied items from women's shoes to baby layettes. It was the infant products that pulled her inside. An old fashioned merchant bell sounded as the door opened and closed.
Immediately a smiling, short and rounded blonde with a bouffant hairdo worthy of those movies Allison had just been reminiscing about, appeared in front of her. "You must be one of Meg's guests. Welcome to Tuckers Bluff."
"Yes, I am. Thank you." The woman's smile was infectious.
Before Allison could say anything else a tall, slim strawberry blonde came hurrying out from behind a curtain. "Oh, hello. I didn't hear the bell. Is Sister helping you find what you want?"
"We haven't gotten that far yet, Sissy. The lady just walked in the door."
"Well," the tall woman smiled. "How can we help you?"
Allison glanced around the deceptively large store and her gaze settled on a small section of baby furniture. "I'd like to get a gift for a baby."
"Ooh," the shorter one slapped her hands together and rubbed enthusiastically. "We love babies. How old?"
"Just a few months." Allison should have been able to do the math quickly in her head, but she'd drawn a blank. What kind of aunt did that make her not knowing Brittany's age to the day?
"Girl or boy?" the taller one asked, already walking to the area of the store that had caught Allison's eye.
"Girl."
The two women glanced at each other a moment. One raised a brow, the other made a funny face with her mouth and then they both shrugged. Sister and Sissy. They didn't look a blessed thing like siblings and yet they communicated with the ease of identical twins.
"She's a very happy baby." Allison felt a need to prove she did know something about her niece, even though these ladies had no idea what her situation was. Or did they? This was, after all, a small town. But surely it wasn't that small.
"Is she sitting up on her own?" Sissy asked.
Allison drew another blank. Most babies didn't sit until they were at least six months old and transitional sitting on their own happened closer to eight months, but that was merely a guidepost. Her mind quickly scrolled through the moments of watching and playing with the baby and couldn't remember a single time when she'd been put down to sit. "No."
"Okay, her bottom hasn't flattened out yet."
"Excuse me?"
The two sisters laughed. "That's what we say when a baby is too young to sit. Their bottom hasn't flattened out yet so they fall over."
"Oh." That was a term they'd failed to teach her in medical school, but she supposed it worked as well as any physiological explanation she could have come up with. "She seems fascinated with grabbing my fingers."
"Okay. Does she have a good rattle?"
Again, Allison didn't have a quick answer. She had little idea of what the child had other than the few things in her diaper bag and no toys had been produced. "I don't think so."
The two sisters paused to look at each other and Sissy turned back to face her. "Are you visiting a family here in Tuckers Bluff?"
Finally a question Allison could answer quickly and confidently. "Yes. The Farradays."
"Oh," the two women echoed.
"You're visiting little Brittany. Sweetest child." Sissy began moving small boxes from atop a nearby table. "Why, from the day DJ and Becky walked in here she stole our hearts."
"And the whole town's too," Sister added, a slight frown pinching her brows. "Makes my blood boil every time I think what that mama did."
"Now, Sister." Sissy opened a box and slid the lid back on. "Leaving that child with her papa and uncles was the best thing for that baby. No place better to raise a child than here in Tuckers Bluff."
"Or with the Farradays. Such good people." Sister bobbed her head. "That Aunt Eileen, giving up her own life, her fiancé, and staying here to raise her sister's children. She did Helen proud."
"Yes sirree. We've got some mighty fine families. Here it is." Sissy waved a colorful small box. "Ever since they moved Brittany into the ranch house and got her her own room we've sold through just about every baby item we had."
"That we have," the plump sister agreed.
"But this here isn't made in China or some other heathen country."
"Sissy!"
"I know. I'm sorry. Just gets my goat every time I think of all the jobs this country has lost. We came this close," she pinched her fingers close together, "to having a blue jean factory in the county twenty years ago. Would have been a big boost to the town. Kept more of our young folk here," the thin woman sighed. “Anyhow, this," she held up the box, "was handmade and the wood stained with natural colors so nothing toxic to hurt the baby. Just the right size for little Brittany's hands."
The sister shook the tiny rattle, smiled, and handed it off to Allison. The light weight surprised her. And from what she could tell the pieces were carved and fit together like a fine piece of dovetailed furniture. The round bulb that made the noises was a pale shade of red. The handle grip a lighter deep blue and the ring at the bottom a pretty yellow.
"Perfectly safe for chewing and slobbering on too."
"It's lovely." Allison had never seen such a simple yet lovely piece. "Do we know who made it?"
The sisters did that eye contact thing again.
"Local rancher. He likes to work with wood. This is the only rattle he ever made. Told us it had to go to someone special." Sissy handed Allison the small box it had come in. "I know Brittany fits the requirement. Maybe you do too."
Chapter Thirteen
"I will bloody be damned." Brooks walked into the living room with his wife at his side. "She did it."
"Who did what?" Aunt Eileen peeked at the roast in the oven.
"Allison. She forwarded Jake's files to an associate of hers at Stanford. Not any associate. The number two brain surgeon in the country."
"And?" Ethan coaxed. The way Brooks was bouncing out of his skin there had to be more.
"And he's agreed to do Jake's surgery. He's also agreed to send a report to the judge on a recent compilation of case studies for post surgery violence on exactly this type of tumor."
Aunt Eileen closed the oven door. "I wouldn't have thought there were that many cases to do a
qualified report."
"More than we'd think. He's going to do his work pro-bono, but the hospital, transport and other things are going to cost a pretty penny."
"Whose paying for it?" Connor asked.
"Old man Thomas."
All movement in the house froze as though some omniscient being had struck the pause button on a remote control.
Sean Farraday looked from son to son. "Any father would."
"Not old man Thomas." Ethan may have been gone more often than not through the years, but old man Thomas' reputation followed him everywhere. "That man never spent a dime on his family that could have been spent on a horse."
"Do you think he's going to sell some of the horses?" Connor asked.
"Not likely." Their father shook his head
"No," Brooks shrugged. "It's just rumor, but he might be putting the feed store up for sale."
Aunt Eileen stopped by Brooks' side. "That could take a while."
"You think anyone from town would want to take it on?" Grace asked.
Sean Farraday shook his head. "Can't think of someone with that kind of money or the time for it."
"What about one of the Bradys?" Aunt Eileen moved toward the sink. "They're an awfully big clan and the family land is spreading thinner and thinner with each generation."
"Maybe," Sean Farraday agreed. "I guess you never know."
"Maybe some outsider will bring in new business." Grace set the knives and forks around the table then came to the end and paused. "We have one place setting too many."
"No we don't." Aunt Eileen turned the kitchen faucet on.
Grace counted the settings. "Who's the fourteenth place?"
"Which reminds me," Eileen glanced over her shoulder at her brother-in-law. "With the family growing so fast, we're going to need a bigger table. Thought maybe you might like to make that your next project."
Sean Farraday looked at the table he'd made for his wife after Finn was born. Helen Farraday had been thinking ahead when she'd had her husband extend the dining room out onto what used to be a wraparound porch. It was no surprise to anyone that now their aunt was thinking ahead too. Sean didn't say a word, just nodded at his sister-in-law and she smiled in return. They'd done a lot of that type of communicating through the years. It had always made Ethan wonder if that's the way his mom would have communicated too.
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