The Nurse's Secret Suitor

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The Nurse's Secret Suitor Page 21

by Cheryl Wyatt


  “Thanks.” Ethan put the figurine back down and his attention strayed to the empty fireplace along the wall, where she’d hung a few stockings, with more placed in the nook built beside it. The store had a pleasant feel and smell to it. As soon as he finished with the dog areas, he could use some advice on how to decorate the reception area he had in mind for Beyond the Borders Dog Sanctuary so it would look nice when he welcomed owners either dropping off or picking up their dogs.

  He sniffed in the scent of cinnamon and listened to the sound of another Christmas carol coming over the speakers behind the counter. Lights twinkled on various-size fake trees, each pine with its own different theme. Larger ornaments interspersed with snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and wreaths of all sizes hung on the walls. Shelves lined the back walls, but even from here, Ethan could see they lacked merchandise.

  He sensed Holly was in more financial distress than just behind in her rent and wondered if she was even going to make it through the holidays. The closer he inspected the store, the more gaps he found on the trees, shelves and walls. Would her last-ditch effort to set up decorations for other people work?

  He hoped so. Even though he needed the rent money for his shelter, it wouldn’t be coming from here. He’d already made up his mind and couldn’t immediately evict his friend’s widow. What a mess. He refocused on the snow globe with the Santa figure. Picking it up, he shook it again, creating a flurry of activity inside. The turbulence suited his mood.

  “How much is this?”

  “Twenty-four ninety-nine. I have others if you’d like to see them. They’re right this way.”

  Holly had no idea why she prolonged Ethan’s visit. She should be shooing him out the door so she could free herself from his closeness and plan her going-out-of-business strategy before Cameron showed up. Somehow she knew Ethan wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, and all of a sudden she wanted his company to chase away the loneliness inside the shop.

  Staring at the shelf along the back wall that contained what was left of her snow-globe merchandise, she wondered why the pretty glass orbs were her favorites. Was it because of the intricate work inside? The bright colors in some, the muted colors in others? The idea that each time she shook up the make-believe snow, she created a new scene?

  She picked up one with a happy family opening presents on Christmas morning inside. Turning the key on the bottom, she wound the music box, shook the globe and set it back on the shelf, the strains of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” keeping time with the swirling snow.

  Ethan stirred next to her. He obviously wasn’t comfortable with her choice, either.

  He picked up one containing the manger scene. Ethan fumbled for a moment as he tried to turn the crank on the bottom to listen to the music inside, but without his fingers, the task was impossible until he flipped it into his injured hand and used the good one to start the music.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  Disgust, sadness and resignation flickered through his eyes as he looked at her, but his expression remained immobile. Holly forgot to breathe. In that quick instant his pain was her own—the death of a dream, a shattered life struggling to mend, a man trying to continue on as if nothing had happened, and yet in a flash everything had changed.

  She knew it well. “I’m sorry. Forget that I asked.”

  “It’s okay, Holly. You’re not the first to ask and you won’t be the last.” Setting the snow globe back down on the shelf, Ethan pulled up the sleeve of his dress shirt, exposing more scarring that went to his elbow. “It looks a lot better than it did a few months ago. I served as an army chaplain’s assistant in Afghanistan.”

  “What’s that?” Holly never took her eyes off the man’s arm. She wasn’t repulsed, but she wasn’t comfortable, either. Some people wore their scars on the outside, others on the inside and others in both ways.

  “I was a bodyguard to whatever chaplain I was assigned to. This time it was a pastor, but I’ve protected rabbis and priests. We were heading out from our base camp when our convoy encountered a roadside IED. I was one of the lucky ones. The chaplain and two soldiers were killed along with two innocent civilians.”

  “What’s an IED?”

  “Improvised explosive device. It’s technical words for a bomb.”

  “I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible for you.” Holly knew there was more to the story than just the spoken words, yet she dared not ask. Having closed off her emotions after Jared’s death, Holly refused to let them open up again.

  “I saw a lot of horrible things over there.” Ethan looked as if he wanted to say more about that subject, but his expression closed again and she could almost see his thoughts shift. She braced herself for the next topic of why he was in the store. “Now, about the garage. I’ll expect Cameron at eight.”

  “That works for me, but Cameron will be a bit testy that early in the morning.”

  “He’s almost a teenager. I wouldn’t expect anything less. It will be good for him.” Ethan cracked a smile and studied the manger inside the snow globe again. “I’ll take this one.”

  “But you don’t have to buy anything.”

  “I don’t have to—I want to.” Back at the counter, he handed her his credit card, giving Holly her fourth transaction of the day. It wouldn’t meet her overhead, but it would help cover something. When she went to wrap it up, he put his good hand on her arm, causing her heart to flutter. “It’s a gift for you. We all have troubles, Holly. Sometimes it helps to know that we don’t have to carry them alone.”

  ISBN: 9781460320464

  THE NURSE'S SECRET SUITOR

  Copyright © 2013 by Cheryl Wyatt

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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