by Donna Alward
Her face fell. “Oh. That’s terrible. I’m glad everyone is okay … present company notwithstanding.”
He smiled a little and jiggled his elbow in the sling. “Aw, this’ll be fine. It’s more of an inconvenience than anything. Doing things with one arm isn’t going to be fun. And neither is facing my mother. She worries. Particularly about me. I hate adding to it.”
“You’ve got a wonderful family.”
And he was aware that she didn’t. She was alone here in Darling, despite it being her hometown. She was lucky to have friends like Laurel and Hannah. “You’re welcome to join us anytime.” It wasn’t pity that prompted his reply; it was simply the knowledge that he knew what it was like to be lonely.
He smiled a little bit, and she smiled back, and the moment drew out. A hint of color blossomed on her cheeks, and he was sure she didn’t realize it but she bit down on her lower lip just a bit, making the soft flesh plump slightly. Tension settled low in his belly. Had he finally flapped the unflappable Willow Dunaway? As their gazes held, he realized she wasn’t the only one shaken from the intimate moment.
He cleared his throat. “Right, well, I’d better get these two home. Thanks again, Willow.”
“You’re welcome,” she said quietly.
When he got in the truck, a glance in the rearview mirror showed Ronan perilously close to dozing off and Connor looking like he’d follow if given a chance.
The burden of being a single father didn’t weigh on him so badly just now. He put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb. And when he looked in the mirror again, he could see her still standing there, her arms wrapped around herself.
CHAPTER 7
Telling his mother went just about as well as Ethan had expected. Moira was waiting for him at his house, full of concern and unsolicited criticism about the danger he put himself in each day when he had two little boys to worry about. It gave him a headache, in addition to the dull ache in his arm. It would be better once the inflammation went down. Rather than listen to the speech over and over, he took advantage of the childcare and went to bed. He’d been up nearly twenty-four hours, and he was exhausted.
He woke near midnight, and tiptoed into the bathroom to find some ibuprofen. The house was silent, but a quick check showed the spare room occupied by his mom. He closed his eyes and sighed. Did all single fathers need this much help?
He crept downstairs and opened the fridge, looking for something to eat since he’d skipped dinner. There was leftover homemade macaroni and cheese, one of the boys’ favorites, and he took out the container and ate it cold, just to fill the hunger hole. He stared out the window at the backyard as he held the bowl in the crook of his elbow and speared more pasta with his fork. Earlier this summer, the yard had been rather plain. He’d kept the grass neat and tidy, but Lisa had always put out flowers in little beds and planters. This year Laurel had stepped in and added some colorful touches, but it wasn’t the same. Now, at midnight, the flowers were just dark lumps in the pale moonlight.
Nothing was the same. Maybe it was time he accepted it, and stopped wishing it was different. What he had left now were memories, but he couldn’t feel her anymore. Not like before. It scared him a little to realize that his grief had shifted to something new that was even more difficult: emptiness.
Thank God for the boys.
By the time he finished his snack, the pain relief was kicking in. He headed back to bed, but lay awake a long time, staring at the thin lines of moonlight coming through his blinds.
He’d become accustomed to sleeping alone. He no longer imagined the weight of her body on the bed beside him. Her clothes were gone from the closet, donated to charity. The décor was the same, but it was as if … well, as if the personality that had filled the house was absent. He blinked back tears, wondering at the odd sensation of grieving for his actual grief. Because the absence of heartbreak had to mean he was moving on. It was a sad, complicated feeling.
He adjusted his position to get comfortable, and remembered Willow’s words to Connor. I’ll think about all the good things in the right now, and it makes me feel better.
Maybe he’d try that. Everyone kept telling him to count his blessings, but this was different. He tried to remember what Willow had said. Something about squirrels and flowers and ice cream …
He thought about his boys cuddled together in her swing-chair, faces smudged with chocolate ice cream. He thought about Ronan’s innocent look of happiness as he handed Willow his bouquet of flowers, and the flitting wings of butterflies as they darted around the garden center. Willow’s soft laugh and gentle manner, and how she’d stayed on the sidewalk and watched his truck pull away.
Right now, Willow was at the center of any good thing that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
He closed his eyes. That was silly. He was just tired and worn out, that’s all.
He was not going to lie awake and think about Willow Dunaway.
* * *
“So, did you hear?”
Aiden and Laurel stopped by on Saturday morning, bringing breakfast for everyone from the diner. Bacon, pancakes, hash browns, and sticky ketchup and maple syrup covered the table and streaked across two very happy faces. Laurel cut the boys’ pancakes into smaller pieces, since Ethan found cutting anything with a knife and fork more than challenging right now.
“Hear what?”
Laurel was beaming. “What Willow and Hannah and I are up to. Or mostly Willow, anyway. Hannah’s helping with the paperwork side and I’m the odd-jobs girl.”
Ethan frowned. Just when he was finally able to stop thinking about Willow, her name popped up again. “No, I didn’t hear.”
“She’s rented the vacant space next to the café and is offering it to the town as a temporary food bank.”
Ethan put down his fork. “Are you serious?”
Laurel nodded. “Dead serious. Hannah told us last night when she stopped in for a new porch basket.” Laurel grinned. “She killed the last one. Your sister does not have a green thumb, Ethan.”
Aiden reached for more bacon. “I heard Willow watched the boys the other day. I got the impression that you guys didn’t exactly hit it off at Hannah’s birthday. You both looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.”
“She’s not my type,” Ethan replied sourly, squirting ketchup on his fried potatoes. “She’s a total earth child, you know.” Guilt shot through him as he said it. Yes, Willow was a free spirit, but he didn’t dislike her. Not really.
“No kidding.” Aiden laughed. “She doesn’t strike me as the soccer-mom type at all.”
Oddly enough, after the other day with the boys, Ethan could see her doing that easily. He scowled and stabbed at a piece of pancake.
“Daddy, what’s an earth child?”
Little ears. He sighed. “Nothing. Finish your pancakes and then you can have more juice.”
A food bank. Why wasn’t he surprised? He hadn’t expected the news, but it sounded like something Willow would do. He wondered if she realized how much work there was to setting up something like that. Wouldn’t she need some sort of zoning or permit from the town? Then there was stocking it, and volunteers …
And where would she find time to do that anyway? He was pretty sure that the café kept her pretty busy.
Laurel reached for the bacon and selected a crisp strip. “Anyway, Willow’s already wrangled us into taking a shift next week. They’re going to start stocking shelves so that they can have a pick-up day by next weekend.”
“That’s fast.”
“That’s what I said,” Aiden remarked. “And then Hannah roped Rory and me into helping construct shelving. You’re lucky your arm’s busted. Otherwise she probably would have asked you, too.”
“I’m in charge of scheduling the manpower,” Laurel said proudly. “I asked George if he wanted to help out, and he’s going to go over a few nights this week. He’s pretty handy, you know.”
Ethan nodded. George was a veteran
who’d been living on the streets in Darling until this past spring. Now he worked for Laurel at the garden center. “I suppose it’s a cause he believes in.”
“Absolutely.” Aiden’s gaze met Ethan’s. “E, I know you’re limited with the cast and all, but it’s got to be driving you crazy, being off work. Why don’t you ask if there’s something you can do to help?”
“I’m fine, Aiden. You don’t need to dream up activities for me.”
Laurel frowned. “Ethan, you just seem to isolate yourself so much. Without work to get you out of the house…”
Ethan got up from the table and went to the sink. He snagged a small towel and wet it, then squeezed it out as best he could since he couldn’t actually wring it. Without saying a word, he went to the table and helped the boys wash their hands and faces, trying to get all the syrup. “Boys, go play outside for a while.”
“But Daddy, I wanna watch cartoons.”
“It’s nice out. Go kick the ball around or something.”
His tone made the order very clear, and Connor scuffed his feet as they made their way to the mat by the door to put on their shoes. After several frustrated sighs, Ethan went over and helped them tighten the Velcro straps across the top of the sneakers. Thank God he didn’t have to try to tie shoes just yet. His could use his fingers, but everything was just so damned awkward.
Once they were outside, he turned back to Aiden and Laurel. “Look, I appreciate the breakfast. But I don’t need you coming up with ways to keep me occupied. I’m a big boy.”
Laurel got up and started cleaning off the table.
“For God’s sake, I can clean up the mess, all right? I’m not an invalid.”
She paused.
He felt instantly guilty for his sharp tone. “I’m sorry, Laurel. I don’t mean to snap. I know everyone means well.”
“Yes, we do,” said Aiden. “Look, I know I’ve ribbed you a lot in the past, but the truth is, I worry about you. I know losing Lisa was devastating. How could it not be?” Aiden reached over and took Laurel’s hand. “You’ve had to deal with your own grief, plus that of the boys, plus being a single dad. Seriously, we just want to see you smile again. That’s not going to happen if you keep shutting yourself away from living, you know?”
Ethan sat in the chair. The sling kept his arm cradled close to his ribs; the swelling had gone down significantly, which helped immensely. The truth was, the afternoon he’d spent at Willow’s was the closest he’d felt to actually living in a long time. There’d been no expectation, no agenda, no trying to prove anything. Just a simple bowl of ice cream and a little conversation.
It made it very difficult to keep thinking of her as a “free spirit.” He was starting to think that she was one of the most grounded, stable people he’d ever met.
“I’ll think about it, but that’s all I’ll commit to. I certainly can’t build any shelves or do much physical labor.”
The three of them cleared the table, then Laurel said she had to get to the garden center for work. After they were gone, Ethan checked on the kids. They were in the back corner, playing in the playhouse that Ethan and his father had built together when Ronan was born.
He was a firefighter. He was a dad. How hard would it be for him to be a man again?
* * *
The sound of hammering echoed through the walls as Willow packed a supply of food for the workers next door. The café was quiet for a Tuesday night, which meant that the sounds of drills, saws, and hammers added to the ambiance. She didn’t mind. Everything was coming together as quickly as humanly possible.
But it was six thirty, and she’d promised to feed the workers, so she filled six bowls with today’s Hearty Vegetable soup, added six ham-and-swiss sandwiches, and a plate of oatmeal cookies. There was more than she could carry, so she’d just determined to make two trips when Ethan Gallagher stepped through the door.
Her heart gave a leap of unexpected pleasure, then settled down again. But that leap was a sufficient warning. Ethan was not on the market, and neither was she, for that matter. She was content the way things were.
“Hungry?” he asked, a slightly crooked smile teasing his lips.
She looked down at the tray in her hands. “Oh. I was just taking it next door. Feeding the crew.”
He lifted his arm and frowned. “I’m not much help. But I can get the doors for you.”
“Thank you, Ethan.” She hoped she wasn’t blushing as he held the door open for her, then jogged ahead to the adjoined property and opened that door, too.
He followed her inside. It was coming together, she realized with delight. Sheets protected the floor as volunteers put together shelving, but already she could see a difference. The office space was divided into three sections. There was a reception area at the front, which right now consisted of a surplus desk from Hannah’s real estate office and a steno chair that Hannah had found somewhere, plus a metal filing cabinet courtesy of Ethan’s brother Rory, who’d unearthed it at the veterinary clinic. Beyond that area was a larger room, where stand-alone shelves already lined one wall. A third room was beyond that, originally intended for storage. Other shelves and tables would go there, to hold extra stock, boxes, and one industrial-sized cooler where Willow hoped to keep perishables.
“Wow. This is a pretty big space,” he said, coming to stand beside her.
She tried to focus on the topic at hand and not the fact that she could feel the warmth of his body so close to her side. “I know. It’s messy now, but it’ll come together. We have a few more days. Stock starts arriving on Thursday night. We’re hoping to have fifty hampers ready to go by Saturday morning.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.” She smiled up at him. “Actually, no, I don’t wish. It’ll be better once everything is up and running. The volunteers from the former location will be handling a lot of the day-to-day bits. Shelley Burke’s looked after a lot of that, and she’s amazing.” She put the tray on the desk. “Hey, guys,” she called out. “Soup’s on. I’ll be back with sandwiches.”
They went back to the café and picked up the rest of the food. Ethan managed to carry the plate of cookies, and once they left everything for the volunteers, she gave him the tour. There was so much hubbub there wasn’t any chance for privacy, but that didn’t stop her from being aware of him. Clearly he kept himself in shape for his job, because his chest was wide and spare, leading to strong, straight shoulders. The kind of chest a woman could lean on. Arms that would surround and protect.
“What brings you by, anyway?” she asked, as they left the storage room.
“Actually, I wanted to see if there was anything I can do to help. The boys are at soccer practice, and I don’t have to pick them up until eight. I know it’s only an hour, but … well, I need to get out of the house before I go crazy.”
His eyes were so earnest. Her heart did that funny little beat thing again and she looked away. “I’m sure there’s something for you. We can always use an extra … hand.” She looked back at him again and gave him a silly smile, hoping he’d appreciate the levity.
“Funny.” His voice was dry and she couldn’t help the little zing of appreciation at his warm tone. Ethan Gallagher actually had a sense of humor. There was a world of difference between his acerbic “funny” and his previous, clearly grouchy pronouncements.
She leaned against the doorframe. “The shelves will be done by Thursday morning, and the donation bins from around town will start arriving. When that happens, everything will need to be sorted and stocked. You could help with that.”
“I can see if Mom can watch the boys.”
She pursed her lips. Granted, it was going to be busy, but everything was running on schedule and she knew that Shelley would be on hand to help organize and sort.
“Bring them,” she suggested, putting her hand on his arm. “They can help. You’re never too young to learn about helping other people, right?”
“You’re sure they won’t get in the wa
y?”
“Maybe have a backup plan just in case?”
“I could bring them with me for the first hour or so, and then see if Mom or one of the girls could take them home. They’ve been nagging for a dip in the pool.”
“Perfect.”
They spent a few minutes moving some shelving units. She used both hands to lift her end, and Ethan braced his hand beneath a shelf and lifted, then let the end rest on his cast. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Not a bit. These aren’t heavy anyway, they’re just awkward.” They shuffle-stepped their way into the biggest room and found space against the wall for the first unit.
“We’ll organize all the dry goods on the shelves. Canned vegetables, pasta, beans, peanut butter, that sort of thing. The church has loaned us some of their old banquet tables for the middle of the room, and we’ll put things like potatoes and produce there.”
“Fresh stuff?” Ethan wiped his hand on his jeans.
“I contacted my local produce suppliers, and they’re going to help out a bit and add a bit extra to my shipments, particularly the less-than-perfect stuff that grocery stores and markets won’t shelve. Laurel also knows a lot of gardeners in the area. Vegetables are just starting to come on now, and she’s let people know that we’ll accept their surplus.”
“I don’t know how you pulled this together on such short notice.” Ethan shook his head, and his look of wonder made her feel warm inside. Was this actual approval from the Ethan Gallagher?
She shrugged. “I went to Hannah after you left the other day. She called the mayor, we had a meeting, contacted the board of the food bank, and it was a done deal. This is already zoned for commercial use, and our landlord offered us three months of free rent.” She didn’t mention that she’d had to sign a year lease in order to get the three months. She’d panic about that later. “I met with the coordinator, we devised a plan, and then we went about setting up local food drives and rounding up volunteers. Laurel helped with the shift scheduling. Donations, too. All the shelving materials have been donated, and they’ll end up going to the old location once it’s been gutted and renovated.”
