“I’m happy for you.” She busied herself tearing a strip of bacon into tiny pieces over her eggs.
Ethan’s deep chuckle broke the quiet. “You made every meal your own particular combination of flavors. I’d forgotten that.”
She shrugged but was surprised he’d ever noticed such a detail about her. “I like to get the perfect bite.”
“Your photos are like that.”
She thought about how she organized a shot—even on location—setting things up and putting in rocks or other natural props to improve the composition. She smiled. “It’s kind of the same thing.”
He watched her, his expression unreadable. “You haven’t smiled much since you’ve been back.”
Her face grew warm under his scrutiny. “What’s with all the groceries?” She pointed to the bags on the counter, grateful for the distraction.
He took another bite and one big shoulder lifted. “You hardly had any food left.”
“I live on cereal and Lean Cuisines when I’m at home.”
“You loved to cook.”
“I thought I should love to cook,” she said. “I was that daughter.”
“What daughter?”
A short curl fell into her face as she looked down at her plate. “You know. Julia was the pretty one. I had to...well...have other things to offer.”
He sat back in his chair. “I didn’t realize you grew up in the 1800s. Did you show potential boyfriends your teeth?”
There were no potential boyfriends, she thought. Only you. She stood and picked up both the empty plates, carrying them to the sink. “You don’t know how it was to grow up with Julia.”
“For what it’s worth, I thought you were just as pretty.”
Lainey snorted then slapped her hand over her mouth. “That is so not true,” she said between her fingers. “No one knew I existed when she was around.”
He pushed back from the table and walked over to her, gently prying her hand away from her face. His thumb traced light circles against the tender flesh on the inside of her wrist. A shiver rippled down Lainey’s spine. “You were beautiful then and you’re more beautiful now.” He drew one finger along her bare neck.
She felt herself drift nearer to him, so close she could see each individual bristle of beard that shadowed his jaw.
Without warning, he turned away, grabbing a plastic bag from the counter. “I’ll put this stuff away.”
Lainey took a woozy step back, pushing her hip into the sink for balance. She bent to offer Pita the last bit of bacon and heard Ethan’s mock growl behind her. “Busted,” she said, ruffling the dog’s ears. “Sorry, doc. Old habits die hard.”
“Tell me about it,” came his cryptic reply. He put away a box of Cheerios and turned to her. “What do you have planned today?”
Pita stretched and rolled onto her back to give Lainey better access to her soft belly. “I’ll go see Mom with what’s left of the morning, I guess. Pore over event plans later.”
“I’m going fishing out at Stroud’s Run. Want to come?”
Her hand stilled, and she felt the gentle rise and fall of Pita’s chest under her fingers.
He’d asked the question lightly, as if they’d just be two old friends hanging out. Could that be possible? Suddenly, she didn’t relish the long day that stretched in front of her.
“What time?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been meaning to come by the hospital. Why don’t I meet you there around one?”
She nodded.
He took a step toward the door.
“Ethan?”
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Thanks again for breakfast.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, her thin T-shirt not enough protection against the heat of his gaze. “And for last night.”
He tipped his head. “I’ll see you later.”
Chapter Nine
“What are you doing?”
Ethan adjusted the oversize vase of flowers he’d just purchased from the hospital gift shop. Not that he needed to see the woman talking to recognize the voice.
“I’m going to see your mom. What does it look like?” He would have continued down the hall, but Julia blocked his path, her round belly pointing at him like an arrow.
“I’m wondering,” she said, a tinge of accusation in her voice, “if you’re messing with my sister’s head. Again.”
Ethan’s good mood from the morning dissolved as his temper flared. Because he thought they’d left the past behind and he and Julia were friends. Because he didn’t want to admit that he worried about the same thing himself. “Mind your own business, Juls.”
“My family is my business. We’ve had enough heartache to last a lifetime. There’s a chance to start over this summer. I don’t want anyone jeopardizing that. Even someone as well-intentioned as you, E.” The saleslady from the gift shop leaned over the counter to eavesdrop.
He inclined his head. “Do you really want to do this here? You know how much people talk in this town.”
A young woman with a baby walked into the gift shop, blocking them from view for a moment. He edged away until Julia grabbed his arm and hauled him across the hall.
She opened a door marked Stairwell and pulled him through.
The heavy fire door slammed shut with a bang. He took two steps away so her stomach wouldn’t knock into him. “Jenny Baker,” she whispered, “saw you kissing my sister in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.”
He leaned against the metal railing. “Jenny Baker should pay more attention to who her husband is kissing and not worry about other people.”
Julia’s delicate brows raised then she shook her head. “Don’t try to distract me. What’s going on with you and Lainey?”
“I don’t know. I do know it’s between Lainey and me.”
“Like you said, this is Brevia. You know the drill.” She said quietly, “Leave her alone, Ethan. She deserves someone better.”
“How do you know—”
“Come on.” She blew out a breath. “Everyone thinks you’re the bee’s knees, but I know the truth. You let the bus run right over Lainey. We both did.” She put her palms on her hips. “I don’t blame her for leaving. How else was she going to survive?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he argued. Talons of unease crept along his spine. He’d been messed up when he was with Lainey. He’d been messed up almost his entire life. Julia was right—she knew him better than most.
“Neither did I,” she agreed. “We were all hurt. I wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed in New York instead of coming back here that summer, if I hadn’t been here the night you found out about the pregnancy.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered, Juls. You and I weren’t going to get back together.”
“We know that, but Lainey didn’t ten years ago. She thought you were still in love with me. The point is we have a chance to make things better.”
“Don’t you think I want to help with that?”
“I don’t know what you want. What I do know is that she may seem tough, but that girl—the one who worshiped you for so many years—she’s still in there. I’m telling you straight up—don’t hurt her again.”
He wanted to fling the bouquet of flowers in the trash, leave the hospital for someplace where he could think. Where the Morgan women couldn’t invade every cell of his body.
Instead, he straightened. “I understand your concern, Juls. I’m not going to hurt her. And right now I’m late to see Vera.” He took the steps two at a time, not looking back.
Lainey stepped off the elevator and started toward her mother’s room at the same time Ethan burst through the door leading from the stairwell.
He collided into her, the flowers he held tickling her f
ace. His hand reached out to steady her.
“Hey.” She smiled, wiping pollen off her nose with one finger.
A scowl drew down the sides of his wide mouth and his eyes were hard as he studied her. “Why are you here?” he practically barked.
She stepped away from him, wondering where the sweet, teasing man from earlier had gone. “Well...it’s one o’clock. We’re meeting.”
“Right.” He dropped his hand from her arm.
“Are you okay?” She’d seen that look in his eyes before, remembered how he’d been after Julia had left all those years ago: angry, frustrated, lost. It tugged on her heart, on the quiet, deep place she’d thought she’d filled with work and travel.
“What can I do?” She didn’t want to say the words, didn’t want to care. With Ethan she couldn’t help herself.
He searched her face for several heartbeats then trailed one finger down her forehead, between her brows, smoothing a crease she hadn’t realized was there.
“I’m fine.” He took her hand, laced his fingers in hers. “Let’s go.”
She let him lead her down the hall then drew her hand away when they reached her mother’s room.
He frowned, a question in his dark gaze.
“Not here,” she whispered and looked away. Before he could argue she stepped forward.
“Hi, there,” she called out, making her voice purposely light.
Vera looked up from the book in her lap. Her gaze took in the two of them. Lainey knew this was a mistake, being here with him. Her mother didn’t need another reason to judge her.
Vera only smiled. “For me?” she asked as Ethan stepped around Lainey.
“Who else?” He bent to hug her, placing the flowers on the bedside table.
She cupped his face. “How are the animals? Do they miss me?”
“We all miss you.”
She patted his cheeks and drew him down to the side of the bed. “Tell me everything. Any new intakes? Who’s been adopted?”
Lainey couldn’t imagine with his busy schedule at the clinic that Ethan would’ve had the time or inclination to keep track of shelter business, but he patiently gave Vera a detailed status report.
Her mother listened, asking questions or making comments about certain animals. She handed Ethan a pad of paper and pen from her nightstand, dictating a mile-long list of instructions for him to relay to the shelter staff.
Since Lainey had been in town, Vera had made remarkable progress. Her speech was almost back to normal, although her right arm and leg still didn’t function properly.
“Mom, you shouldn’t worry about work,” Lainey said, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. “The shelter is fine.”
Vera turned as if Lainey had just bitten the head off a baby mouse. “Fine isn’t good enough, Melanie,” she huffed. “The shelter is your father’s legacy. It matters.”
Lainey struggled to control her breathing. “I know. Your health matters, too.”
“I’m being released next week.”
“That’s great,” Ethan said.
“Your leg,” Lainey protested. “You can’t walk.”
“I’ll get better at home. They’ll give me exercises, and you can drive me to therapy appointments.”
Lainey swallowed. “Of course.”
“I need to get back to my life,” her mother continued, leveling a look at her. “I’m no good to anyone in here.”
Lainey’s mouth twisted in annoyance. “Is this about the event? I’m not doing enough, right? You’re pushing yourself because you don’t think I can handle everything.”
“It’s my event, young lady. My reputation’s on the line.”
“Is it your friends? Do they have a problem with me?” Lainey didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of Ethan, but her fears and self-doubt tumbled forward like a landslide. “I’m doing my best, Mama. If you think you can do better in your condition, have at it. I have about a million places I’d rather be than stuck in Brevia for the summer.”
“Do not take that tone with me, Melanie Lynne.”
Lainey felt her composure begin to crumble. Her stomach burned with old resentment and pain. Then Ethan’s large hand wrapped around her wrist.
“Show her the pictures,” he said gently.
She glanced down at the envelope still clutched against her T-shirt. “I can’t do this,” she whispered miserably. “You show her.”
Blocking her mother’s view, he stroked his thumb against the racing pulse on the inside of her wrist. “Yes, you can.”
Just as it had during that first meeting at the clinic, the look in his eyes bolstered her confidence and gave her comfort. She nodded and turned back to Vera.
“I’ll be outside,” he murmured and pushed open the door.
“What pictures?” her mother demanded.
“I took a few shots of the shelter animals for the website. I thought you’d want to see.”
Her mother’s chest rose and fell in deep breaths. She took the envelope wordlessly, fumbling with the metal clasp.
Lainey covered her mother’s fingers with her own. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’m trying my best.”
“I know.” Vera pressed her head back against the pillow. “The shelter...the animals...they’re all I have left of your father, Lainey. I need to be there.” Her voice broke. “It’s my only connection to him.”
Lainey sank down to the edge of the bed. “I know how hard it was with Julia and me gone. If I hadn’t left he wouldn’t have been so sad and he might have stayed healthier.” She wiped tears from her mother’s cheeks.
Vera shook her head. “His heart was bad. What happened...his death...none of it was your fault. The heart attack was only a matter of time.”
Something went still inside Lainey. She had carried the guilt of her dad’s death like a traveling companion. It had gone with her to every destination, wrapped around her like a blanket under the remote skies in Africa, laid down beside her in a tent on a Costa Rican beach. Like the sorrow she felt for the baby she’d lost, she hadn’t been able to outrun it or leave it behind.
“When I called...after...” Lainey’s voice shook. “When I couldn’t get here for the funeral...”
Her mother’s face twisted. “I was overcome with grief. I was mad at your father for dying, mad that he hadn’t gone to the doctor. I was angry with myself for not realizing how bad off he was. I was mad at you. I was mad at everyone. It wasn’t your fault.”
Sobs racked Lainey’s body. Vera pulled her close and repeated, “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Oh, Mama. I miss him.”
“Me, too, sweetie.” Vera leaned back and wiped under her eyes. “I think he’s with the baby,” she said softly.
“What?” Goose bumps ran the length of Lainey’s spine.
Her parents had been with her at the hospital when she’d miscarried, but they’d never discussed the baby she lost. They’d taken Lainey home, tucked her into bed and murmured platitudes about how “things happen for a reason.”
Their relief at the outcome of her pregnancy had seemed palpable to Lainey. It had been a slap in the face, caused a rift in her relationship with them that had made leaving easier to bear.
“Your father was so sad for you,” her mother continued, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table. “We both were. It makes me feel better to think he’s with your baby.”
Lainey was filled with a deep sense of...not exactly peace...yet something as freeing. A feeling of calm she hadn’t known was missing from her life settled over her like a soft spring rain on the New Mexican mesas. Filling up the dry, barren desert until it once again bloomed with life.
“Thank you,” she mouthed to her mother, unable to produce the smallest sound. She wiped her nose and pulled the stack of picture
s from the envelope. “Here,” she said on a ragged breath.
As her mother looked down, a smile lit her face. She thumbed through the photos, taking several moments to study each one. Lainey walked to the window, gazing out as she worked to steady her heart.
When she turned, her mother watched her with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “These are lovely,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ve captured their personalities and a bit of their souls in these photos.”
Lainey shrugged. “I thought it would help me to get to know them. Besides the website, I’m going to put together a brochure and flyer for the event.”
“An excellent idea.” Her mother hugged the stack of pictures to her chest. “These are more than photos, Lainey. They’re portraits...true art. You have an amazing gift.”
Lainey was so used to her mother’s disapproval, jumping through hoop after hoop to measure up to Vera’s high standards, she wasn’t sure how to handle this tender moment. “Thank you,” seemed ineffectual, still it was all she could manage.
“May I keep these?”
“Sure.”
The door creaked open and Robert, the tattooed physical therapist, rolled a wheelchair into the room.
“Time for your workout,” he announced as his gaze took in both Vera and Lainey’s puffy, tearstained faces. He shot Lainey a glare before kneeling at Vera’s side.
“What’s going on?” he asked, taking Vera’s tiny hand in his meaty one.
Lainey watched her mother smile at him. Holy cow, she thought. This might be serious. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“She brought photos of my babies.” Vera tilted the stack of pictures in his direction.
He leaned his shiny head forward. “Tell me about them.” His total concentration was focused on Vera.
Lainey backed toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later tonight, Mom.”
Vera looked around Robert for a moment. “Love ya, honey,” she called.
Lainey smiled. It was the first time her mother had said those words in over ten years. “Me, too, Mom.”
She closed the door behind her and sagged against it, her eyes drifting shut. Her body felt like Jell-O, weak and almost weightless.
Still the One Page 10
