by Kaitlyn Rice
“And what did he choose, Josephine Sarah?”
Josie rolled her eyes again, and Callie let out a low growl of pure frustration. “Just help me,” she insisted.
Josie returned to her work without commenting, but then Isabel turned around. “Callie, we’ll do what we can, but please open the bedroom door now. The last thing any of us needs is to pass out from these chemical fumes.”
“Good. Okay. Thanks,” Callie said to Isabel.
She opened the door, but she glared at Josie’s back for a few moments before she stepped into the hallway. Then she checked her watch. It was just after eleven o’clock. She’d give Ethan an hour.
Until that time, she wanted to be alone. In a house with people working in almost every room, that was difficult. She finally locked herself in the bathroom to scrub the tub. The water had seeped up through the pipes, leaving behind a thick layer of grime and rust.
Poor Isabel. Reminding herself that she was here for her sister, who must be tiring of the interruptions to her life, Callie concentrated on her work for exactly sixty minutes. Then she headed for the basement stairs. On the way, she heard Ethan’s voice. He must have come upstairs to help the crew of buddies Josie had invited here to help today. Callie altered her course. As soon as she’d located him in the kitchen, she said, “Ethan, may I speak with you?”
“Hang on.”
She watched him work with the two other guys to yank up a piece of flooring. Ethan had knelt down to run a crowbar beneath a strip of linoleum.
Callie tried to ignore his bulging thigh and arm muscles.
After a few seconds, all three men grabbed an edge and lifted slowly. A loud ripping sound filled the room, and the flooring came loose. The men cheered, then Ethan stood and walked across the room to Callie. “What is it, babe?”
His expression was relaxed, his tone intimate. Had he forgotten their separation? Callie scowled and asked him to follow her out to the front porch.
As soon as they were outside, she crossed her arms in front of her. “Babe?”
“I wondered if you’d caught that.” Ethan stepped down onto the top porch step, then copied her frosty stance. “It was just a slip. Don’t worry about it.”
“A slip.”
“Don’t pick a fight, Callie. I just forgot, okay? Why did you bring me out here?”
“It’s time for you to go.”
“I have the day off. If Josie’s friends can stick around to help, I can, too. And I know they’re staying all day because they told me they were.”
“They were never married to me or my sisters.”
“My presence here can’t hurt a thing.”
“Oh, but it can.”
“For Pete’s sake, Cal. You’ve actually gotten grouchier. I’d have thought you’d be over all that by now.”
“Over all what?”
He studied her mouth, then her eyes. “The sadness,” he said. “I understood it after your mom died, and our problems getting pregnant compounded things, but after a time you have to accept the things that happen and go on.”
If only it were that easy. In a four-year time span, she’d dealt with infertility, her mother’s passing and the failure of her marriage. Luke’s birth had made her feel okay again.
“Believe me, I know that,” she told Ethan now.
“Good. Are you happy?”
She thought of Luke. Of the exquisite feel of his head when she tucked it under her chin and rocked him to sleep. Of the overpowering warmth that filled her when he wrapped his sturdy little arms around her neck.
Of the ultimate sweetness of her little boy.
“In a lot of ways, I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” she said.
Ethan stepped nearer. “You don’t act happy when you’re around me. You must still be angry with me,” he murmured. “Surely you know you pushed me away.”
She did know. She’d been awful to Ethan. She’d been shrewish about so many things, and when he’d talked about returning to Kansas so he could accept a spot on Wichita’s helicopter patrol, she’d been furious with him for not recognizing the importance of her work in Denver.
She’d wanted him to stay. She’d hoped he would keep putting up with her moodiness. She’d needed to know she was worth that much to him.
Callie searched her brain for wise words, but found none. She’d just opened her mouth to change the subject when the door opened behind her.
She felt pushes and jabs from several sharp limbs as the entire renovation gang piled onto the small porch. She scooted to the side, allowing them to pass.
“There you are,” Isabel said as she emerged last and locked the door behind her. “If you can’t tell, we’re leaving.” She caught Callie’s eye and lifted a single brow, sending a message that this was her way of helping.
Josie and most of the guys were already at the curb. Some were climbing into a big white sedan, and others into Josie’s truck.
The nice-looking blond man, Josie’s good friend Gabriel Thomas, stayed behind. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Ethan. “We’re all going to the Hilltop Church. Isabel says they’re serving chicken and dumplings to flood victims and helpers. Let’s grab some grub, then we can tackle that floor again.”
Callie scowled. Without waiting for Ethan’s response, she said, “Ethan is heading home.”
“But I didn’t eat breakfast,” he said, “and I did help. Didn’t I, Isabel?”
Isabel glanced at Callie and shrugged. “He did.”
“That settles it,” Gabriel said. “Let’s go.”
The two men walked away. Gabriel squeezed into Josie’s truck while Ethan got into his car.
Callie watched the vehicles disappear down the street. Then she gaped at Isabel. “How did that happen?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” her sister said, “but I imagine people deal with this sort of problem whenever they tell a whopping lie.”
Isabel rarely stuck her nose into the middle of a dispute, and Callie didn’t like it. She sighed. “Izzy, Ethan left when we were trying to get pregnant. He chose not to have a baby with me.”
“He has a baby with you. He just doesn’t know it.”
“We don’t have time to discuss this. What if Ethan is still there when it’s time for me to get Luke from the church nursery?”
“The nursery is in a different part of the building,” her sister said. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
Minutes later, Callie drove toward the church, allowing Isabel to travel ahead of her. She arrived last and parked her rental car at the far end of the lot so Ethan couldn’t easily peek inside and discover Luke’s car seat.
She hoped the gang would get their food and take their seats before she arrived at the meal hall. She wanted to sit as far away from Ethan as possible.
Unfortunately, as soon as she walked inside, she saw him standing in the church vestibule. “You should have gone on through the line,” she muttered as she strode past.
“I thought we’d finish our conversation over lunch,” he said, catching up to her.
“I don’t think so.”
After she’d filled a tray with a delicious-smelling bowl of chicken and dumplings, a glass of iced tea and a thick slice of apple pie, Callie approached Isabel’s table, sat down and picked up her fork.
Ethan chose a seat across from her, so she filled her mouth with a nice-size dumpling. If she pretended to be famished, perhaps she could get away with silence.
Just then, Josie walked into the area with Luke on her hip and his diaper bag looped over a shoulder. “Look who I found,” she said, beaming at Callie. “Can he have one of my dumplings if I cut it into tiny pieces?”
Callie glanced at Ethan with that nice-size dumpling sticking in her throat. She swallowed hard, then glared at her baby sister.
When Josie noticed Ethan at the table watching, her mouth popped open. She must not have realized Ethan had been invited to join them.
She’d better not have realized.
Dr
opping her fork with a clatter, Callie knocked over her drink, then righted it and jumped up to grab napkins from the empty places around her, dabbing at the spill. Every clumsy movement was intended to take Ethan’s attention away from Josie and Luke.
But peacemaking Isabel saved the moment. She stood up and reached for Luke. “Come here, doll face,” she said as she cuddled him against her chest. “Tell silly Josie that you’d love to try a dumpling, and that you have four teeth to chew it with.”
Ethan watched it all with shrewd brown eyes.
He wasn’t just a cop because he got a kick out of helping people. He was a detective sergeant because he was sharp.
“Did you say how long you’ve been dating Roger, Izzy?” he asked.
Isabel studied him. “I’ve known Roger for a little over two years, but we haven’t always dated in the strictest sense of the word.”
“But he’s your boyfriend?”
“I guess so.”
“That’s it, then!” Ethan nodded. “That’s why you girls are acting funny.”
“Why?” Callie asked.
“Luke is yours, isn’t he?” Ethan said.
Callie panicked until she realized that her estranged husband had addressed Isabel.
Not her.
He’d guessed wrong again, thank God. Callie glanced around, checking to see who had noticed his error. Josie had filled her mouth with food and was chewing as if her life depended on it. Isabel held Luke and watched Callie for cues. The other guys had started eating at the next table, and weren’t paying attention.
Callie drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“If you’ve been seeing Roger for two years, the baby would have to be yours,” Ethan told Isabel. “How old is he? Almost a year, right? A guy in my unit has a baby that age.”
Callie sat back in her chair, stifling a laugh that would almost certainly sound maniacal.
Ethan smiled at Isabel. “He’s a handsome kid,” he said in a reassuring tone. “These days, a lot of women have babies before they marry. Let me know if you want me to talk to your Roger about doing the right thing.”
“Oh, no. That’s not necessary,” Isabel said quickly.
And finally, mercifully, everyone began to eat their chicken and dumplings.
Wow. Callie should be ecstatic. But as she sat with her tea-dampened blouse sticking to her skin, she realized she didn’t feel good about her narrow escape. She was relieved, of course. But she also felt as if someone had held her by her feet and shaken her violently, so that her heart was bruised and overworked.
She needed quiet.
She excused herself and got up. After explaining to her sisters that she’d return in a few moments, she left the dining area.
Luke started fussing, but Callie fisted her hands and ignored him, as much as it hurt. She strode toward a darkened hallway and didn’t stop until she found a vacant Sunday-school room.
She felt like crying, too, dammit.
This was all so hard. Her sisters might not realize it, but she didn’t particularly want to lie to Ethan. She hated deceiving a man who’d been wonderful to her for eight years.
But she had to live her life. And she wanted to feel as if the future belonged to herself and her baby boy.
She understood why Ethan had made the assumption he had about Luke. They’d tried hard to get pregnant, and he’d been with her the last time she’d had a blood test that had proved she wasn’t. He’d known about the preserved embryos, of course, but he wouldn’t have expected Callie to try again.
Ethan’s belief that Luke was Isabel’s child could only be a temporary fix. He lived and worked in Wichita, just twenty-some miles from her sisters. The city was huge and growing every year, but Isabel had run into Ethan at Christmastime.
Josie worked in Wichita, too. If she saw Ethan, she might decide that truth was a nobler cause than loyalty. Even if she didn’t, who knew how much time would pass before something else happened?
Ethan hadn’t visited her sisters in the last couple of years, but he might. He’d notice Luke’s absence and ask questions.
This situation had grown far too complicated.
Callie sat in a folding chair, willing Ethan to finish eating and leave, whether he returned to Isabel’s house or went home to Wichita. She had to think of a way to convince him to leave her and her sisters alone forever, just as their father had done.
No divorce. No communication. No threat.
A nearly impossible task.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked from the hallway behind her.
She wasn’t surprised. He’d been following her around an awful lot since last Saturday. “I wanted a minute alone.”
He walked in and sat one row behind her and two seats down. “It’s tough, huh?”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“I understand more than you think,” he said. “Isabel had a baby when she wasn’t ready for one, and you tried so hard and were left with a nursery full of unneeded furniture.”
Callie sighed and closed her eyes. Hiding the truth had become exhausting. It might be easier to tell him and deal with his reaction.
“The solution is simple,” he said.
“How so?”
“Stop giving in to your fears, Cal. Put yourself out there again and you might have better luck with the next guy.” He added gently, “I’ve moved on, with LeeAnn.”
That wasn’t at all what she had expected to hear.
She might feel horrible about keeping the truth from Ethan, but she didn’t feel bad about protecting her son from some woman she didn’t know—some no doubt flashy musician who didn’t mind dating a married man.
What if Ethan married LeeAnn? Some judge might see that the child’s biological father had settled down again, and that he hadn’t done anything wrong. That judge might decide Ethan should be the custodial parent.
Callie’s heart skittered at the thought.
“You really should begin dating again,” Ethan said. “I know you treasure your independence, but the right man will only enhance your life.”
In the quiet Sunday-school room, the scraping of Ethan’s chair legs against the floor echoed. He stood, stepped between the rows of chairs and knelt in front of her. Callie didn’t know his intentions, but her body responded to his nearness with a stinging ache, her heart with a quickening rhythm.
Ethan rested his hands on her thighs and leaned forward, surprising her by gazing into her eyes. She saw something in his expression that shook her up even more.
Compassion, yes. He’d been good at that. And desire. She was glad to have affected him, too. But there was something else. Something deeper and more solid.
An unselfish wish for her well-being?
Whatever it was, she wanted to bottle it and carry it around with her, taking it out again whenever she wanted to relive the sunny warmth of it.
His kiss stunned her.
It was short and sweet—a farewell kiss. But then he nudged her knees apart and slid his body forward, opening his mouth to hers again.
If last week’s kiss had been seductive, this one was tempestuous. As his tongue plunged against hers, he pressed his hands against the small of her back to bring her hips forward.
Sweet heaven.
She’d thought she’d live the rest of her life without feeling those hands gliding against her skin. Those lips, making her feel both needed and needful at the same time. She’d thought she’d die without ever feeling this staggering heat again.
Before she accepted her lonely fate, Callie allowed herself to absorb the experience one more time. She’d just entertained the thought of tugging Ethan’s shirt off when she heard whispers.
She opened her eyes, pulled her face away from her husband’s and rotated in her seat.
A middle-aged man and woman were standing in the doorway, holding several bags of groceries. “Excuse us,” the man said. The couple scurried past and left the bags on a table at the front of the room. Then, as
if they were the ones out of place, they exited quickly.
Callie turned around. Ethan was standing again and frowning, as if deep in thought.
She stood, too.
She’d messed up. Let her heart rule. She’d have to work extra hard to convince him that…what? That she hadn’t encouraged that kiss? That she didn’t want to lock the Sunday-school room door so they could make out as if they were teenagers again?
That she wasn’t a fool woman who still had a thing for the husband who’d left her?
After a few seconds, Callie asked, “What did that kiss prove, exactly?” Her voice sounded sober enough, but her cheeks and body were flaming.
Ethan looked a little pink, too. “I don’t know. Maybe that you’re missing something.”
“With you?” She forced herself to breathe normally.
Ethan eyed her for a minute, as if wrestling with some decision. “With another man,” he finally said. “If you still want a baby that badly, you’re going to have to get involved again. Right? It seems to me that we’d both benefit from a divorce.”
Finally, he left the Sunday-school room. By the time she had made her way to the church dining hall, he was gone.
He probably thought she’d gotten her way, as usual, but of course she hadn’t.
She could never have her way again.
ALMOST A WEEK LATER, Callie watched Luke pat his chubby hands against the water in Josie’s sink. “You enjoy water, don’t you, Lukey?” she asked, smiling.
Luke splashed harder, as if he’d comprehended the question and wanted to prove his mama right. He understood so much more, lately. Callie wondered if he’d have some fragment of memory about the weeks he’d spent with his Kansas aunts. He thrived under their affection. He’d even begun to adapt to the changed environment.
So had Callie. Although she checked in with her Bio-Labs supervisor several times a week, probing for details about the research trials, she couldn’t neglect her little sister for a career. Her lab assistants were handling the exhaustive data collection tasks. She’d want to direct the interpretation of the information, of course, but for now she felt as if she was right where she belonged.
She also wondered if Luke would have any memories of Ethan. When she was in the hospital with Luke after he was born, Callie had decided that she would tell him the truth—that he was conceived in a special way because she’d had problems getting pregnant, but that she wanted him very much and couldn’t love him more.
