“The doctor says she’ll need physical therapy. The cast probably won’t come off for six weeks.” Amber’s eyes narrowed. “No doubt, you’ll be long gone by then. But Miss ErmaJean has lots of friends who will look out for her.”
Amber’s low opinion of him stung.
“I’ll take care of my grandmother.” He squared his shoulders. “This incident settles it. I’m moving her to Wilmington.”
Amber’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that, Ethan.”
He drew himself up. “I can do that, Amber. And I’ll make sure she gets the best of care.”
Amber shook her head. “She’ll hate it. She’ll miss Miss GeorgeAnne and Miss IdaLee. Her house. Her church. The mountains.”
“You and those old women should mind your own business.” He cocked his head. “I’ll take care of Grandma.”
Hurt flashed through those sky-blue eyes of hers. Her lips trembled. And he felt about two inches tall.
She was only looking out for his grandmother. But she’d hit a nerve. He wasn’t his deadbeat dad. He’d never be him. Grandma Hicks had practically raised him by herself.
Amber stopped outside the second door on the right. “Here’s her room.”
He’d been harsh. Anger had always been his fallback, rather than fear.
“I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I didn’t mean to bark at you. Thanks for showing me the way to Grandma’s room.”
There were purple shadows under Amber’s eyes. She looked tired. And, at twenty-six, older than she should. Nursing school must be exhausting.
She bit her lip. “I was headed here, anyway.”
Ethan steeled himself for what he’d discover on the other side. But what he found wasn’t anything like what he expected.
His heart in his throat, he pushed through the door to find his rosy-cheeked grandmother lying propped against the pillows. And two little ash-blonde girls—twins?—standing on either side of the bed.
The sight of his pleasantly plump grandmother in the hospital bed caused his heart to swell with unexpected gladness. Apple round, his grandma was what he liked to think of as fluffy. Her salt-and-pepper hair was no whiter than when she’d visited him over the winter.
“Ethan?” Catching sight of him, Grandma Hicks’s face lifted. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you.”
Behind him, Amber slipped inside the room. “Lucy. Stella.” She held out her hand.
The little girl in lavender let go of the bedrail and ducked behind Amber. The one in pink maintained her hold on the steel bar and peered at Ethan.
“Grandma, are you all right?” He took her blue-veined hand. Her skin felt warm to the touch.
She squeezed his fingers. “GeorgeAnne shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m fine.”
“You are not fine.” An uncustomary emotion clogged his throat. “And you’re not a bother.”
“I’ll be right as rain, give or take a few weeks.” She patted his arm. “Can’t keep a good woman down for long.”
The little girl in pink came around the end of the bed, bypassing Amber. “Gigi got hurt.”
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Gigi?”
His grandmother’s cheeks dimpled. “Closest I could get to Great-Gran.”
Ethan frowned. “Who do these children belong to, Grandma?”
“Me.”
His gaze flicked to Amber and then to the child beside him. His mouth opened and closed. The adorable little girl gave him a bright smile, and his breath caught. She was the spitting image of Amber at that age.
Sky-blue eyes. From the tip of her tiny nose and stalwart little chin, same as her mother. A mini-Amber.
Grandma Hicks reached through the railing and touched the child’s hand. “Lucy, this is my grandson, Ethan. The one I told you about.”
Out of the corner of her lashes, Lucy looked at him. “Hey, mister.”
Sunshine. Warmth. And a sense of well-being flooded over him.
“It—it’s Ethan.” He cleared his throat, glancing from his grandmother to this slender princess of a child. “Telling tales about me, Grandma?”
“Only the truth.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“The good things. The stuff you don’t like to think people know.”
He tried to wrap his mind around a grown-up Amber with children of her own. “Matt never told me you have daughters.”
“Like on the ark, they came in twos. This is Stella.” Amber stepped aside, giving him a clearer look at the child hunkered next to her mother. “Stella, this is Ethan, Uncle Matt’s best friend.”
Pert nose. Dimpled chin. Identical to her sister. Yet somehow not. A person entirely in her own right.
The notion of Amber being married left him with an unsettled feeling in his gut.
“You just missed Callie, Amber.” Grandma smiled. “I didn’t want her to miss the golden photography hour for her client’s engagement pictures so I sent her off. I knew you’d be here soon.”
“I was so relieved Callie was available to pick up the girls from school this afternoon. She texted me she’d dropped the girls off here. I came over as soon as I finished my shift at the diner. She said the twins were worried.” Amber sighed. “I know they feel so bad about what happened this morning.”
Ethan frowned. “The girls were there when Grandma fell?”
Grandma rested her palm on Lucy’s silken head. “Lucy and Stella were wonderful. They called 911, like their mommy taught them to do in an emergency.”
Ethan stared at his grandmother. “You’ve been babysitting Amber’s children?” His voice rose.
“We’re not babies.” The silent twin let go of her mother and folded her little arms across her chest. “We’re four years old.”
“Of course you’re not babies, Stella darling. You are my two most favorite big girls.” Grandma Hicks threw him a warning look. “They also managed to call their honorary aunt Callie. I’m so thankful she was able to get to my house, even before the ambulance arrived. You remember Callie, don’t you, Ethan?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. Callie’s family owned the Apple Valley orchard. Callie and Matt had dated in high school.
“She’s Maisie’s mommy,” Lucy said.
Callie Jackson had a kid, too? She’d been Amber’s best friend since they were children. A couple of years older, Ethan and Matt had spent a great deal of their growing-up years at either the orchard or the Fleming family white-water rafting business.
“The Jacksons still own the orchard, but she’s Callie McAbee now.” A smile tugged the corners of his grandmother’s lips. “And did the Double Name Club ever have a time getting her and Jake together. But all’s well that ends well.”
His thoughts on the Double Name Club—more notoriously known as the Truelove Matchmakers—were best left unvoiced. GeorgeAnne Allen. IdaLee Moore. ErmaJean Hicks.
The sixtysomething ladies were infamous for poking their powdered noses where they didn’t belong. They took the town motto—Truelove, Where True Love Awaits—a little too seriously.
Apparently, gentle, auburn-haired Callie Jackson had been their latest victim. He felt a surge of empathy for the unknown Jake McAbee. Fortunately for Ethan, he’d always been too much of a black sheep for the ladies to ever target him.
Then as if on cue, the uncontested leader of the matchmaker pack, Miss GeorgeAnne, poked her nose into the hospital room. “Reporting for duty.”
Amber bristled. Angular and bony, GeorgeAnne had that effect on people. “I think it best if I take the girls home myself, Miss GeorgeAnne.”
Married, divorced or spinster, the “Miss” was an honorary title of respect bestowed on any Southern lady who was your elder. No matter if the “Miss” was elderly or not.
“Nonsense. You needn’t miss your class.” The old wo
man’s glacier-blue eyes sparked over the twins. “I figure if nothing else, the girls and I can sort a bucket of bolts at the hardware store.”
Lucy’s eyes rounded.
Stella’s rosebud lips flattened. “No bolts, Miss G’Anne.”
Good for her. He felt a ridiculous, misplaced pride. Another Truelove rebel in the making. GeorgeAnne wasn’t exactly his definition of maternal. He felt bad for the girls.
Amber’s face tightened. “I should’ve never allowed you to talk me into this, Miss ErmaJean. The girls are my responsibility. Why did I ever think I could—”
“It’s been a trying day, but I won’t let you throw in the stethoscope over this little bump in the road.” Grandma waved her hand. “If you hurry, you can still get to class on time.”
Ethan rocked on his heels. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’d say your leg in a cast is more than a bump in the road, Grandma.”
His grandmother lifted her chin. “What’s going on here is that Amber’s come too far in her nursing studies to quit now.”
“Miss ErmaJean—”
“It’s settled.” Grandma Hicks shrugged. “At least for tonight. We’ll work out something. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”
He grimaced. “Why can’t your husband take care of the girls, Amber?”
Lucy tugged at his jacket. “We don’t have a daddy, Efan.”
And the bottom fell out of his stomach.
GeorgeAnne pursed her thin lips. Grandma looked like she wanted to strangle him. Without meaning to, he’d put his foot in it.
* * *
The shock at seeing Ethan again was not dissimilar to the stinging jolt Amber had felt when once she overturned one of her father’s rafts into the freezing cold water of the river.
But the sensation was the same. Fighting her way to the surface, gasping for air. Her heart in overdrive. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real.
Amber shook herself slightly, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. Ethan Green wasn’t an illusion. Standing beside Miss ErmaJean’s hospital bed, he was as real and solid as the granite rocks of the North Carolina mountains.
She tried not to gape at him. The broad shoulders, the well-muscled chest beneath the jacket, the six-pack waist that tapered to his jeans. This man she didn’t know—the man who’d fulfilled the youthful potential of the boy she’d once loved so impossibly. This man robbed her of coherent thought.
Amber wasn’t sure why her brother hadn’t told Ethan about the last five years of her life. When he and Matt left for basic training, she believed she’d never see Ethan again. His leave-taking had been so final. He’d been so exultant about finally gaining his freedom from the small-town life he hated.
Freedom. A concept she barely remembered. She tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. His gaze followed the motion of her hand. And something fluttered like the wings of a butterfly inside her rib cage.
Ethan’s gold-flecked hazel eyes were as intense as ever. She swallowed against the rush of feeling. What was wrong with her?
He’d surprised her, that’s all. She hadn’t expected to see him here. Not after so much time. No big deal.
Especially on a day like today when her plans to make a better life for her children were falling to pieces.
She endeavored to get her traitorous heart to settle down. No easy task when it came to the boy she’d had a schoolgirl crush on since she was... Eleven?
As far back as memory served, there’d been her, Matt, Ethan and Callie. Inseparable. Or that’s what she’d believed until Ethan made a deal with Matt, convincing her brother to also join the Marines after graduation.
She and Callie had been left behind. At sixteen, she’d never dreamed being left behind would become the story of her life. She finished growing up alone, the hard way. Experience, a bitter teacher.
Why was he staring at her? Self-conscious, she smoothed her hand over her scrubs. Well aware the years hadn’t been kind. But he could at least pretend not to look so...so shocked.
Was it her appearance or single motherhood that shocked him the most? Her ex-husband, Lucy and Stella’s father, had been an irresponsible jerk, but she worked hard to make sure the twins never suffered for her errors in judgment.
She fingered the end of the stethoscope. “Girls, tell everyone good-night.”
“Night-night, Gigi.” Lucy smiled at Ethan. “You, too, Efan.”
Stella glued herself to Amber’s leg.
“I was kidding about the bolts.” GeorgeAnne planted her hands on her bony hips. “I’ve heard you two girls like milkshakes. I wasn’t misinformed, was I? Thought we might swing by the drive-through on the way to your house.”
Lucy immediately abandoned Ethan. “I wike vaniwaa, Miss G’Anne.”
Stella made a face. “I like strawberry-vanilla-chocolate ice cream.”
GeorgeAnne’s mouth quirked. “Who doesn’t?”
Amber quickly calculated how much money her depleted wallet contained. Not enough for milkshakes. “I’m sorry, girls, but—”
GeorgeAnne raised her hand. “My treat. Got nothing but a passel of grandsons. I think it’s time to see how the other half lives.”
Amber warmed toward the often sharp-tongued, overly brusque woman. “Thank you, Miss GeorgeAnne.” For not making her feel like such a charity case.
The older woman moved toward the door. “The train for milkshakes is leaving now. Anyone going to hop on board?”
“Me!” Lucy grabbed hold of her sister’s hand. “Stehwaa, too.”
Amber’s heart sank. Stella looked like she’d rather eat live worms. Her babies had made so many sacrifices so she could finish school and get a good job.
Doing her best to ignore Ethan and her zinging pulse, Amber ushered the odd trio to the elevator.
Until Miss ErmaJean offered to take care of Lucy and Stella, she’d struggled to juggle her waitress job, single parenting and nursing school. It was good of Miss GeorgeAnne to babysit the girls, but with ErmaJean out of commission, tonight would have to be her last class.
The twins and Miss GeorgeAnne stepped into the elevator.
Only two months left till graduation. But there was no other option. She’d have to withdraw from the program.
Lucy waved goodbye. Stella glowered. As the elevator doors closed, the rest of Amber’s life stretched out before her in a bleak panorama.
Endless shifts at the Mason Jar. The broken-down trailer. Never quite making ends meet. Once again, it would be her girls who suffered the most for her mistakes.
Her shoulders slumped. She was so tired of battling life alone. “Is this all there ever will be for me and the girls, God?” she whispered.
She passed her hand over her face. It wasn’t like Amber to be melancholy. She was a fighter. Scrappy, Ethan used to say. But right now, she felt the fight had been beaten out of her.
Yet she wasn’t alone. She had wonderful friends like Miss ErmaJean and Callie. God had never left her. He wouldn’t fail her now, even with this seemingly insurmountable setback.
After all this time, seeing Ethan revived memories and dreams she’d believed long buried. Emotions she had no time, energy or right to feel. And Ethan wanted to take ErmaJean away for good?
It felt like the final straw. His grandmother had become a mentor, confidante and friend. If only there was a way to convince him to let Miss ErmaJean convalesce at home.
Who was she kidding? Amber couldn’t get her own life on track. Why did she think she had the right to tell anyone else how to live theirs?
Copyright © 2019 by Lisa Carter
ISBN-13: 9781488043147
The Holiday Secret
Copyright © 2019 by Kathryn Springer
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The Holiday Secret (Castle Falls Book 4) Page 20
