Caroline hesitated. She hadn’t broached the subject of her eventual move with Hannah. The girl had been settling in so well the past two weeks, Caroline didn’t want anything to cast a pall on the child’s adjustment.
“Give her a routine she can count on,” Gofer had recommended the afternoon he’d brought Daniel to visit his sister. “It will make her feel secure.”
So Caroline had concentrated on establishing a pattern—regular bedtimes and risings, minor chores and a little television and reading a chapter from a favorite book before bed each night—except Saturday, when they stayed up later to watch Disney videos and eat popcorn.
Ethan had surprised her by wanting to watch movies with them, and Caroline had been glad of his presence. He had a unique ability to relate to Hannah, while Caroline was still feeling her way. Hannah obviously enjoyed Ethan and his teasing, and although she still hadn’t laughed—except an almost-chuckle at the rodeo clowns last Friday—Ethan with a funny face or silly joke could occasionally coax her to smile.
Last night at supper, as they’d gathered around the big pine table in the kitchen for fried chicken and fresh vegetables from the garden, their resemblance to a real family had struck Caroline. Ethan had discussed the progress of his repairs on Orchard Cottage, Hannah had told him about learning to make jelly, and Caroline had marveled at the turn her life had taken in such a short space of time.
Except for a quick peck on the cheek whenever he arrived or left, Ethan hadn’t kissed her since the night of Hannah’s arrival. But Caroline knew he wanted to—and she felt the same way. She just hoped her own expression didn’t give her away. She wanted his arms around her as much as he did, but she resisted, shoving the thought into a corner of her mind and locking the door. When the time came to leave the valley, saying goodbye to Hannah would be hard enough. Caroline didn’t want the extra complication of pining for Ethan or to have her independence fettered by an infatuation with no future. If she wasn’t careful, the tender snare of love for the little girl and bonds of attraction for Ethan would trap her in the valley more firmly than any obligations to her mother ever had.
“It’s all right.” Hannah’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“What?”
“You don’t have to let me ride your horse if you don’t want to. It was rude of me to ask.”
“Oh, Hannah. Of course I’ll let you ride my horse. I was just thinking how long a time it will be before I get one.”
Hannah swigged lemonade from the can and cast Caroline a worried look. “I haven’t helped very much, have I?”
“What?”
The child nodded toward her pail. “I’m not very good at picking blackberries.”
“It’s not a contest, sweetie. You do it because it’s fun. Fresh air, sunshine, a gorgeous summer day. And all the blackberries you can eat.”
“I can eat them?”
Caroline noted the girl’s lips were clean without a trace of berry stain anywhere, except her fingers. “Of course you can. Do you like them?”
Hannah shrugged. “I never ate a blackberry.”
“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”
As always, Hannah did exactly as she was told. With her fragile bones, delicate build and open mouth, she reminded Caroline of a needy baby bird. Caroline selected the plumpest berry from her own pail and popped it into Hannah’s mouth.
“Now chew,” Caroline instructed.
She half expected Hannah to spit it out, but her lips closed on the berry and her eyes flew open in surprise. “It’s good.”
“You betcha. And you can eat as many as you want.”
“But what about our jelly?”
Caroline waved her arm at the brambles lining the fence. “We have more berries than we can ever pick. We’ll have plenty for jelly.”
“When will you open the stand?”
“In a few days, as soon as we make jelly from this batch. And as I promised, you can keep all the money we make.”
“Thank you.”
“What will you buy? More books? Some clothes for school?”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m saving for a pony. Ethan promised to help me pick one out.”
Caroline bit back a sharp reply. Ethan knew no more about ponies than she did. Besides, encouraging the girl was cruel. Even if Hannah could save enough to buy one, which was highly unlikely, her next foster family might not have space for a pony.
Dreams, however, had their place, she reminded herself. They brought comfort and something to look forward to. Maybe Hannah’s dreaming of a pony couldn’t hurt, although the chances of her dream coming true were slim to none.
A horn sounded on the road and Ethan drove up in his pickup in a cloud of red dust.
She checked her watch and called to him through the open truck window. “Hi. Is it that late already?”
“You said three o’clock,” Ethan said with a warm grin that threw off her equilibrium. “Hi, ladybug,” he called to Hannah. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Hi, Ethan. I ate a blackberry.”
“Only one?”
Hannah nodded.
Ethan climbed from the truck and grabbed a handful of berries from Caroline’s pail. “They’re like potato chips. You can’t eat just one.”
He popped the berries into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Mmm-mmm. They taste almost as sweet as kisses.”
“Chocolate kisses?” Hannah asked.
Ethan looked at Caroline. “Right. Chocolate kisses. They’re the best kind. Until you’re older.”
Hannah looked from Ethan to Caroline as if aware he was talking in a code she didn’t understand.
The memory of kissing Ethan weakened Caroline’s knees and her resolve to keep her distance. She groped for a change of subject to something safe. “How’s your new sculpture coming?”
“It’s almost finished. I’ll show it to you when you pick up Hannah.”
“I’d like that.” Caroline gathered up the pails and cooler. “I have to go, sweetie. You’ll be staying with Ethan for a little while, remember?”
“Okay.”
“You can help me paint,” Ethan said, “while Caroline visits her mother.”
“I’d rather be painting, too,” Caroline said with a grimace, “and you know how I feel about painting.”
Ethan opened the passenger door of his truck and boosted Hannah onto the seat. He closed the door and turned to Caroline.
“Be glad you have a mother,” he said in a voice too low for Hannah to hear.
“You’re right.” Caroline felt a pang of remorse, thinking of Hannah, who still cried herself to sleep at night, missing her mommy. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Say hello to Agnes for me.” Ethan brushed Caroline’s lips with a brief kiss and climbed into the truck. “We’ll see you at supper.”
He backed the truck into the drive, then turned it toward Orchard Cottage.
Caroline lifted her fingers to her lips. Blackberries were sweet, but nothing could match Ethan’s kisses that, unfortunately, always left her feeling disoriented. She remained determined to leave the valley and have that ranch she’d always wanted, she reminded herself. Besides, the man had problems, secrets and a yen to return to Baltimore next summer. Even if she were looking for a permanent relationship—which she wasn’t—she knew better than to follow a dead end.
Why did life have to be so complicated?
With a sigh, she walked toward the house to clean u
p before heading into town.
* * *
ON THE FRONT PORCH of Orchard Cottage, Ethan handed Hannah an old but clean white T-shirt to pull over her new shorts and shirt. He glanced at the child’s new sneakers. “Better take those off, so they don’t get ruined.”
Hannah sat cross-legged on the floor, ripped open the Velcro fastenings, and removed her tennis shoes. “What about my socks?”
“Those, too, or they’ll get covered with paint.”
“What are we painting?”
“My living room.”
“What color?”
“Yellow. It reminds me of sunshine.”
“Me, too,” Hannah said, “but I don’t know how to paint.”
“It’s easy. I’ll show you. Or you could just watch, if you like.”
Hannah shook her head. “I should help. It’s only fair.”
“How come?” The way the girl’s mind worked fascinated him.
“Because you painted my room,” she said in her solemn way.
“One good turn deserves another?”
She nodded.
“Who taught you that?”
“My mommy.”
“You miss her, don’t you, kid?”
Hannah nodded.
“My brother Jerry died a few months ago.” He surprised himself with the admission.
“Do you still miss him?”
“I’ll always miss him.”
“But he lives in your heart, just like Mommy lives in my heart.”
“Who told you that?” Ethan asked.
“Mr. Gofer, Daniel’s friend.”
Ethan felt the pain that had been his constant companion since Jerry’s death ease the slightest fraction. “Mr. Gofer is a very wise man.”
“That’s what Daniel says.”
“And your brother is a fine young man.”
“I know.” Hannah scrambled to her bare feet. “I’m ready to paint.”
The kid was a wonder, better than antidepressants or therapy. If she could survive what life had thrown at her, Ethan could, too. After less than three weeks in Pleasant Valley, with the help of Caroline and Hannah, he felt himself coming alive again. He was sleeping better at night, his anxieties had eased, and he found himself more often looking forward with eager anticipation instead of always backward with regret.
He opened the screen door and Hannah preceded him inside. He’d already placed drop cloths to protect the floors, so he poured sunny yellow paint called Lemon Chiffon into a tray and showed Hannah how to fill her roller.
With her tongue tucked in the corner of her mouth in concentration, Hannah began rolling color on the wall. Ethan grabbed a brush and started cutting in around the woodwork.
“So, how do you like living with Caroline?” he asked.
“She’s nice. She smells good.”
Wisteria. He could almost smell it himself, in spite of the paint fumes.
“And she’s fun,” Hannah added.
“How is she fun?”
“We read books. And watch movies and TV. Mostly about cowboys. Caroline really likes cowboys.”
Ethan could have done without the reminder of Caroline’s intended move.
“You shoulda been a cowboy,” Hannah said.
“Me? Why?”
“Then you could marry Caroline.”
Ethan stopped, his brush suspended, dripping paint. “What makes you say that?”
“I can tell you like her. And she likes you. But she wants to marry a cowboy.”
“She told you that?”
Hannah stopped rolling paint and nodded. “She said if she ever gets married, it will be to a man who can help her run her ranch that she wants to own someday.”
“When did she say that?”
“Last night, after we watched Bonanza. She said she’d like to live out west someday and have a ranch like the Ponderosa.”
With a sinking sensation, Ethan returned to his painting. So much for his hope that he’d been making headway in winning Caroline’s heart. According to Hannah, Caroline still had her sights set on her Western dream—and a cowboy to ride off into the sunset with. He would have sworn she’d responded to his kiss, but apparently not enough. Maybe she saw him merely as a diversion while she cooled her heels in the valley, waiting for Daniel to graduate and Hannah to get a new family.
He shook off feelings of self-pity. He had a year left to plead his case. The tranquility of Orchard Cottage was gradually healing his wounded psyche. He’d been able to talk about Jerry to Hannah without coming apart at the seams. Who knew what other miracles might happen in the next twelve months?
* * *
GLAD TO ESCAPE her mother’s complaints and accusations of abandonment, Caroline climbed the steps of Orchard Cottage. The blare of Asheville’s country music radio station came from the living room when she knocked on the screen door.
“C’mon in,” Ethan called above the country music. “We’re taking a break. You’re early.”
“I didn’t stay as long as I’d planned. Mama wasn’t feeling well.”
In fact, Agnes had clutched her chest and complained about her heart in a pathetic attempt to convince Caroline to return to live at the bed-and-breakfast. Agnes had improved remarkably, however, when Caroline had suggested her mother should move into an assisted care facility since her health was so bad. The visit had left Caroline feeling cranky and emotionally exhausted.
She stepped into the living room, empty except for the tarps on the floor and a portable radio, and felt immediately better. The walls glowed with a fresh, cheerful yellow, accented by beams of sunlight from the western windows. Ethan and Hannah sat cross-legged on the floor in a corner, drinking Cokes and eating Fritos and Ding Dongs.
Caroline started to protest about spoiling the child’s supper, but Hannah looked so content, she didn’t have the heart to ruin the child’s good mood.
Hannah’s hair, beautifully styled by Amy Lou two weeks ago into a close-cropped Peter Pan cut, was streaked with paint. The soles of her feet were yellow, and her thin little body was swathed in a huge T-shirt, also spattered with yellow. With her face smeared with paint and her mouth covered with Ding Dong icing, she appeared perfectly happy.
“Hi, Caroline. I helped Ethan paint.”
“So I see. And you did a fine job.”
“How’s your mama?” Ethan asked.
Remembering her mother’s complaints, Caroline suppressed a grimace. “Not great, but she’s slowly coming around. Maybe by the time I move, she’ll be used to the idea.”
“You’re moving?” Hannah eyes rounded with alarm. “What about me?”
Caroline could have smacked herself for her insensitive blunder. “I won’t be moving for a long time, sweetie. You and I are staying put at Blackberry Farm until Daniel graduates a year from now.”
She expected Hannah to ask what would happen after that, but a year was a lifetime for a little girl, and Caroline’s answer erased the panic from the child’s eyes. She took another bite of a Ding Dong.
“There’s a clean towel and washcloth in the bathroom,” Ethan told Hannah. “The paint will come off with plenty of soap and water. How about cleaning up before getting in Caroline’s car?”
He helped Hannah tug off the paint-stained shirt, and she skipped barefoot into the kitchen toward the bathroom.
Caroline glanced around the newly painted room, studying her surroundings to keep from looking at him. Why did the sight of him
have to turn her knees to Jell-O? “You’re making progress.”
At least her voice didn’t give away the emotional turmoil Ethan created in her. She sounded cool and collected—but then he couldn’t see her palms sweating.
“On the cottage and my artwork, too. Want to see my newest work?”
“Sure.” She was curious about the artistic abilities of a man who’d earned his living in the macho profession of firefighting. Following him through the kitchen, she called to Hannah in the bathroom, “We’ll be in the barn, sweetie. Come on out with us when you’ve finished.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hannah answered.
“Put on your shoes first,” Ethan added. “I don’t want you getting metal slivers in your feet.”
“Okay.”
“Want a Coke or some Fritos?” he asked Caroline. “I’m afraid we’ve polished off the Ding Dongs.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
He held open the screen door, and she brushed past him as she crossed the threshold. To avoid temptation, she hurried down the stairs to the yard, but Ethan fell in step beside her. His presence was both comforting and disturbing.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, “have you had a chance to look at Eileen’s journals?”
“I’ve started reading them at night after Hannah’s gone to sleep.”
“And?” He adjusted his long-legged stride to match hers.
“The journals begin when Eileen came to Blackberry Farm as a bride. I’ve skimmed through the first six months, and she sounded deliriously happy, but I felt like an intruder. The journals obviously weren’t meant to be shared.”
“If she’d been concerned about her privacy, she would have burned them or instructed Rand to destroy them, wouldn’t she?”
Caroline shrugged. “Maybe. If she’d thought about it.”
“Any clues in her writings to the identity of the mystery body?”
“Nothing. In fact, now that you mention it, Eileen doesn’t mention anyone coming to the farm. Just her and Calvin.”
Her Kind of Cowboy Page 14
