Ethan's Daughter

by Rachel Brimble

  “He isn’t, but if you’d be so kind as to tell him Ethan James would like a word, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Ethan James?” She frowned and then her eyes widened. “The author? Wow, it’s a thrill to meet you.”

  Ethan forced a smile. The last thing he’d considered was the possibility of meeting one of his readers in the club owned by his ex-wife’s lover. “Thank you.”

  “It’s unusual for Harry to meet with anyone without a prior appointment, but as it’s you, I’ll see what I can do. If you’d like to go through to the bar, I won’t keep you a moment.” She waved toward the velvet curtain. “Just through there, and Marcy will fix you up with whatever you’d like.”

  “Thanks.” Ethan eased the curtain aside and entered the main area of the club before making his way to the bar.

  Shaded lamps dotted the walls, and candles burned in ruby-red holders, glowing from the small, intimate tables scattered through the room. The stage in front would hold a six-or seven-piece band, Ethan figured. On a glittering silver backdrop, a fluorescent sign glowed dramatically in electric blue, promoting Passions as “a place for good music, great food and total abandon.”

  “Good evening, sir. What can I get you?”

  The woman behind the bar was young and attractive, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four. Her blond hair was brushed up into a plaited, complex arrangement, with soft tendrils framing her face. He thought of Anna and how beautiful she’d once been compared to how she’d looked the last time he’d seen her. Was she employed here as a dancer? These women seemed so much more together than his ex-wife. Was Anna’s downfall because she’d embarked on an intimate relationship with the boss?

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Just a beer, thanks.”

  “Sure.” She pulled a paper coaster from the pile beside her. “Are you all alone tonight?”

  He glanced around him. “Hopefully not for long.”

  She snapped the top off his beer and poured half into a glass before pushing it toward him. “Is this your first time at Passions?”

  “Yes. It’s impressive.”

  She smiled. “The best jazz bar in the southwest.”

  He slid onto a stool and lifted his beer to his mouth, carefully watching her. “Do you enjoy working here?”

  “I love it. Wouldn’t want to work anywhere else.”

  “And how do you find your boss?”

  “Harry? He’s great. Everyone loves him.”

  Suspicion whispered through Ethan. Wyatt’s reputation versus the reality of what Anna had told him was such a contradiction, it was almost laughable. Almost. So why did his employees seem to idolize him as much as his public did?

  He’d opened his mouth to ask another question when a squeal sliced through the quiet room. “Ethan, what are you doing here?”

  Slowly, he turned on the bar stool. “Anna.”

  “Are you insane?” Her bloodshot eyes were wide, and although her facial bruising was beginning to fade, her skin was pale and her weight still diminishing. She threw a hurried glance toward the bartender before gripping his arm and dragging him to the far end of the room. Her gaze manically sought his. “What’s wrong with you? What are you doing here?”

  He pulled his arm from her grip. “Trying to sort out your mess once and for all before someone gets hurt.”

  “Please tell me you haven’t asked to see Harry.”

  “Sorry. Too late.”

  “You’re playing with fire.” Her eyes filled with panic. “You don’t know these people, Ethan. You don’t know Harry.”

  “Maybe not, but I do know I want this crap stopped before it gets any worse and starts affecting our daughter. If you won’t leave him, if you won’t testify—”

  “I told you I’d handle it.” She glared and reached for his arm again. “You need to leave. Now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until I speak—”

  “Mr. James. What an honor.” Harry Wyatt’s voice reverberated across the room as he emerged from behind the red velvet curtain that led to the entrance of the club. “Never in a million years did I think I’d meet the famous author...and Anna’s ex-husband, no less.”

  Ethan locked gazes with the man who had further reduced his once vibrant, fun-loving ex-wife to a shadow of the woman she’d once been. “Mr. Wyatt. The pleasure is all mine. I believe you and I have a problem that needs sorting out.”

  “Is that so?” He slid his gaze to Anna. “Come here, my love, before your ex starts to think you belong at his side rather than mine.”

  Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Do you mind if we take a seat?”

  Wyatt huffed a laugh and walked closer, pulling out a chair at one of the tables. “Be my guest. I’m intrigued why you’ve come all the way here from that sad, back-alley place called Templeton.”

  Ethan sat at the table. “That little back-alley place, and my fondness of it, is a big part of why I’m here, Mr. Wyatt. That, and the fact Anna looks the way she does these days, and that you have been trying to threaten the life I’ve built for myself and our daughter.”

  “Is that so?”

  Ethan leaned closer. “You’re very mistaken if you think I’m going to let anyone, including you, come within thirty feet of my daughter.”

  Wyatt shrugged, his eyes glinting angrily in the candlelight. “You can reel your neck in, Mr. James. Any threats weren’t meant for you. They were more of a message for Anna.” He tugged on her arm, pulling her unceremoniously onto his lap. “Now that she understands my feelings for her, she’s come back into the fold where she belongs. Problem solved.”

  “Is that so?”

  Wyatt grinned. “Absolutely.”

  Ethan placed his forearms on the table, his gaze locked on Wyatt’s. “Then I guess I’m going to be here longer than I hoped. Until you let Anna freely walk away from you, I won’t be leaving.”

  * * *

  SMILING SOFTLY, LEAH brushed her hand over Daisy’s head as she slumbered in the spare bed, exhausted and spent after an evening of playing in the garden, a bubble bath and, finally, a few pages at bedtime from Leah’s favorite childhood book.

  She carefully laid her dog-eared copy of Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree on the bedside table and turned the light down low. Hovering by the doorway, Leah found her eyes stinging with tears as she stared toward the warm bundle under the covers.

  No matter her desire to right the wrongs of the world, to embrace trust and love in her life as others did, caution and mistrust still clawed at her chance for happiness. Worse, she had no idea what to do to change that. She quietly closed the door, leaving it an inch or two ajar, before walking downstairs.

  She went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. As the water in it came to a boil, Leah gripped the counter and stared into her darkened garden. The hours Ethan had been working while she cared for his daughter had passed so quickly.

  Ethan and Daisy made her happy. More than that, they made her heart sing and her distrust vanish.

  Their invisible abilities were a phenomenon to her once lonely heart.

  Yet as Daisy slept and Ethan worked, Leah felt the usual doubts as to whether or not she could sustain a healthy relationship while caring for patients, or whether she could really dedicate the time to a child who deserved nothing less than her full attention. She and Daisy might have easily come to like and trust one another, but Leah couldn’t say the same for her and Ethan.

  Their lives couldn’t have been more different and the circumstances that had brought them together more fraught with danger. Contact from whomever had been harassing Anna might have stopped, but who could say whether Leah, Ethan and Daisy could build a future together? Could she really open her heart to possible pain again?

  The loss she witnessed in her job was one thing, but personal loss was entirely different
.

  A flicker of light shot across the window, jolting Leah from her thoughts. Her heart stumbled. What was that? She leaned toward the window.

  Nothing but blackness swarmed in front of her eyes.

  She looked at the time. Ten o’clock. Surely she’d been imagining things...but that had looked far too much like the beam of a flashlight. Walking to the back door, she checked that it was locked, relieved when she found it was. She hurried along the hallway to the front door and slammed the bolt into place. In all the years she’d lived in the Cove, not once had she felt the need to dead bolt her home.

  The difference now—she glanced toward the top of the stairs—was a precious little girl under her sole protection.

  Hurrying into the living room, Leah picked up her phone from the coffee table and dialed Ethan’s number, suddenly wanting to be reassured by his deep, soft voice. As the phone rang, she walked to her front window and peered out.

  Nothing but darkness.

  She snapped the curtains closed.

  The call went to voice mail. Leah hesitated, unsure whether to leave a message when she already felt silly for behaving with such fear. She took a deep breath. It would only worry him when he came to check his phone and saw her missed call with no message.

  She forced a smile. “Hi, it’s only me. Hope the work is going well. I’ve just tucked your baby into bed and she’s fast asleep. Call me if you take a break and want to chat. I’ll be up for a while yet. ’Bye.”

  Ending the call, she tossed the phone onto the couch and reached for the remote control. The sharp rap at her front door sent her heart lurching into her throat.

  She froze, her gaze darting from the living room door to her phone.

  Hands trembling, she snatched up the device and tried Ethan’s number again. No answer.

  Another knock came at the door.

  Not wanting to wake Daisy, Leah slowly walked into the hallway. “Who is it?”

  “Leah?”

  She frowned. The voice sounded kind of familiar, but she couldn’t quite place... “Charlie?”

  “The one and only. Are you all right?”

  She stared at the door, unsure whether or not to open it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was hoping to speak to you. Although not through a closed door.”

  She bit her teeth together and looked down at her phone. It remained ominously silent. Inhaling, she cinched her robe tighter around her waist and unbolted the door. She pulled it open, smoothing her hair back from her face, her heart still racing. “This is a surprise.”

  He drew his gaze over her body from head to toe before placing his hand against the door frame and grimacing. “Sorry, I’ve disturbed you.”

  She crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows. “Well, it is gone ten.”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head and straightened. “I was having a few beers at the Coast and got chatting to someone who mentioned where you lived.” He briefly closed his eyes before opening them again, clearly embarrassed. “I really like you, Leah. I’m here hoping you’ll agree to a second attempt at a date. Then again, since I’ve turned up like this in the dark of night...” He shook his head. “Forget it. Sorry I bothered you.”

  Leah studied him, her previous plan of finding out just what he was up to rising inside her mind once more. She pulled back her shoulders as a feeling of protectiveness toward Ethan and Daisy flowed through her.

  He raised his hands. “I’m an idiot. I’ll leave you be.”

  “You’re not an idiot.” Leah touched his arm as he moved to walk away. When he stopped, she smiled. “I’m flattered, honestly. The problem is, I’m kind of seeing someone right now and I really like him. If there was no one else on the scene it might have been different, but I want to see how things work out with Ethan.”

  “Ethan? That’s his name?”

  She carefully watched him. “Uh-huh.”

  “He’s not the famous author guy, by any chance?”

  “Well, yes, as a matter of fact.” She frowned. “How did you know?”

  “Doesn’t everyone know Ethan James lives in the Cove?”

  She gripped the door more tightly. “No, they don’t. He’s very reclusive. Maybe a few of the Cove’s residents know, but I wouldn’t have thought a guy like you would keep track of famous authors.”

  “Like me?” He smiled. “I do read, you know.”

  “No, I mean, a guy from out of town.” Her smile was straining. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d know Ethan was local.”

  “Busted.” He shrugged. “I asked around the bar if anyone knew who you were going out with and they said you’d been with Ethan James recently.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll go.” He started to walk backward and flashed her a smile. “You take care.”

  He strode along her driveway and disappeared into the darkness. Relieved, she relocked and bolted the door. Damn it. She should’ve asked if he had been responsible for the light she had seen at the back of the house. Could it have been him? There was a back entrance, but no one tended to use it.

  Either way, nobody could possibly have an excuse for skulking around at the rear of her house. Turning off the hallway light, she wandered back into the living room and redialed Ethan’s number.

  Straight to voice mail. Again.

  Surely he wouldn’t have his phone turned off when Daisy was sleeping at her house for the very first time? It seemed implausible that he wouldn’t check for messages, or call at least once to make sure everything was okay.

  Suspicion and distrust rose and Leah glanced toward the hallway. What if, like Charlie Hickman, Ethan assumed she was available anytime, anywhere? Thought he could do what he wanted, when he wanted, as far as she was concerned? Sasha always accused her of having too kind a heart, of wanting to help people a little too easily. Would Ethan take advantage of her fondness for him?

  The light in her back garden and Charlie’s unexpected visit had sent her paranoia into overdrive.

  Whenever Ethan looked at her, there was no trace of manipulation. In fact, now that she thought about it, when he’d asked her to mind Daisy, his gaze had been full of trepidation—and that trepidation couldn’t have been about her ability to babysit. There was no chance Ethan would ask someone he wasn’t sure of to mind his daughter. There had to have been something else bothering him...guilt?

  Sickness rolled through her stomach. What if he’d taken it upon himself to sort out Anna’s trouble on his own?

  Leah quickly dialed his number again, her heart racing. If he had gone off on a one-man crusade, what could she do, with his little girl fast asleep upstairs? How could Leah help him? Maybe even save him?

  Straight to voice mail once more. She ended the call, unable to bear what no answer might mean. Dropping the phone on the couch, she put her head in her hands and tried to fight the overwhelming sense that something was very, very wrong and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it tonight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AS THE COP snapped handcuffs on Ethan’s wrists, the realization that his actions might cause him to lose everything seeped through the red mist of Ethan’s anger and into his stupid brain.

  What the hell had he thought would happen when he came to the club? That Harry Wyatt would just nod, shake his hand and promise not to harass Anna ever again? That, sure, she could give evidence against him and he’d completely understand why she had no choice to do anything else?

  The tension between him and Wyatt had escalated as patrons slowly trickled into the club. When it had neared the time for the band to come onstage, Wyatt had suggested they go to the privacy of his office and Ethan had agreed. It turned out that Harry’s office wasn’t the intended destination. Instead, a couple of Wyatt’s heavies had appeared from now
here and pretty much frog-marched Ethan and Anna into the backyard hidden behind the iron railings Ethan had seen earlier.

  Wyatt’s heavies had jumped Ethan the moment his back was turned and a fight had ensued with Anna screaming at the top of her lungs until someone had called the cops. Ethan had no idea if it had been one of the staff who made the call, or if a passerby had decided Ethan’s limp body indicated this was more than Wyatt’s staff dealing with an inebriated patron.

  His knuckles ached where he’d caught Wyatt and his cronies with a few good right jabs to their jaws...but then, so did his ribs, nose and chest, where they’d pretty much finished him off before the cops had arrived and broken up the fight.

  What a damn mess...not to mention what Ethan’s publisher would make of his antics if the fight made front-page news.

  Of course, a few cuts and bruises were made worthwhile by Harry and his heavies also being arrested due to their less-than-accommodating responses to police questioning at the scene.

  And now, as Anna was handed into the back of the cop car beside him, Ethan was grateful his ex-wife had had the good sense to grab the police’s attention while she could. He faced her. “You did the right thing, Anna.”

  She glanced at him, tears and makeup smearing her face. “The right thing? Asking the police to protect me from Harry right in front of him?” She shook her head, her gaze dark with defeat. “Sooner or later, either Harry or someone else will make me regret doing that.”

  “Not if he’s sent to prison.”

  She looked at him. “You think prison stops people like Harry?” She huffed a laugh. “You write thrillers, Ethan. I would’ve thought you’d be a little more wise to the world by now.”

  Hearing the hitch and crack of her voice, Ethan took her hand. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay, but God, Ethan, look at you.”

  His eye throbbed and what must be an open cut stung at his temple. “Cuts and bruises heal. You have to get away from him, Anna. Do it for yourself, not for me or Daisy. I’m tired of asking you to take us into account. You’re not listening to me.”