Ethan

by Chris Keniston

  "Which still leaves the question, who is this last place for?" Grace repeated.

  Aunt Eileen turned off the water and spun about to face her niece. "I've invited Allison to join us for Sunday supper."

  Eight heads turned from person to person. Not a single one dared to argue with the family matriarch. And truthfully, Ethan was sort of glad she had.

  ***

  Allison pulled into the long drive behind Meg and Adam. They'd offered to give her a ride, but she'd wanted the freedom of her own car in case the situation became too awkward and she needed to return to the B&B.

  Set back in the distance, the ranch house stood out like a picture postcard for an old western. From a few minutes outside of town until now there hadn't been a blessed sign of life. Over breakfast Adam and Meg had chatted about living in West Texas. Another guest had asked a good many questions about the ranch, and Allison had listened eagerly in silence. There were a lot of details that could be had by checking the almighty Google, but she'd learned so much more at the table.

  Even though Adam never revealed any details about how many head of cattle they ran, or what the government paid them to keep the wild horses, she'd still been left with a pretty solid picture of exactly how well off the Farraday ranch was. Not only did she learn about how many acres of land it took to feed cattle in this dryer part of the state, she also ascertained a good deal about Connor and the horse operation he'd started with his fiancée, the lawyer.

  Now that she was pulling up to the famed ranch in living color, she had a sneaking suspicion that a good chunk of the land they'd driven through to get here had been Farraday country. With every new trickle of information, she saw her chances at bringing her niece home with her slipping further and further away. Even after researching the family before her trip, she'd still hoped to find a gung-ho marine with little or no interest in raising a daughter. The only time she'd recently felt the slightest bit of hope was when Ethan spoke of returning to active duty. She could see in his eyes how much he loved what he did for the military. That was her ace in the hole.

  Following the line of cars, she parked beside Adam's huge pickup truck. Allison almost laughed out loud the first time she saw it. Apparently the old joke everything's bigger in Texas had more than a grain of truth to it. Adam's wasn't the only truck she'd seen in town large enough to house a small tribe. She wasn't a small woman by any means, but even she'd need a stepladder to climb into that monster, and the tumble on the way out was one hell of a drop.

  Gathering her purse, the rattle and the stuffed piggy that was so soft and snuggly she hadn't been able to resist, Allison followed Adam and Meg into the house. The first thing to strike her was the noise level. Loud and a bit raucous with mixtures of laughter and debates and plenty of slamming cabinets and clanking glasses and silverware, the air was alive and kicking with positive energy. Despite the apprehension the day held for her, she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

  Crossing the foyer, she glanced right and spotted Ethan on the recliner, his eyes closed, with Brittany sprawled across his broad chest, one hand splayed atop her back, keeping her safely in place. Brittany looked so much tinier against him. Veering away from the direction Meg was taking, Allison stepped slowly into the family den. The sight of father and daughter, the juxtaposition of giant and infant, the impact of protector and innocent gripped Allison's heart and squeezed. How was she supposed to fight that?

  Ethan's one eye popped open. "Hello."

  "Hi," she whispered. "I thought you were sleeping."

  Both eyes open now, one brow rose high on his forehead and with his free hand he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "With all that racket?"

  Allison glanced behind them to the open wall and full view of the family gathered around the kitchen table and realized that she was the only one whispering. "How does she sleep with all this noise?"

  Ethan shrugged. "I guess it's whatever you're used to."

  Immediately Allison's mind flashed back to how loud the virgin jungles sounded to her at first, making it impossible for her to sleep even a wink, and how by the time she'd left she could have slept through the blitzkrieg. "Makes sense." She lifted the small bag with the gifts. "I brought a little something for her."

  One side of his mouth tipped upward followed by the opposite corner and Allison felt the impact of the huge smile all the way to her toes.

  "That was nice of you."

  "She is my niece."

  Brittany wiggled, her tiny fisted hand moving closer to her mouth, and let out a soft contented sigh. Allison liked to think that statement had made Brittany happy. Of course, she'd have also liked her sister to stop roaming the country like a 1960s love child and behave more like a normal family. Her gaze lifted to the people working together in the kitchen. Like a Farraday family.

  "I didn't hear you arrive." Aunt Eileen wiped her hands on an apple patterned apron tied around her waist, and then extended her hands at Allison.

  Convinced the woman was reaching for the bag Allison carried, she was caught off guard when the family matriarch pulled her into a welcoming hug.

  "So glad you could make it." Aunt Eileen smiled. "You just make yourself comfortable in here and I'll have someone bring you a nice glass of tea."

  Feeling a tad dumbfounded, Allison merely nodded. It didn't occur to her until she'd sunk onto the sofa that she didn't like iced tea.

  "She likes you."

  "Yeah. I gathered." Allison looked to the kitchen and back. "Why?"

  Ethan shrugged. "Why not?"

  Because I'm here to challenge this crazy happy family.

  "Brooks said that you're helping Jake Thomas."

  "Not me exactly, but once I took a look at the test results myself and heard more of the details from Brooks, I couldn't not try to help."

  "Allison Monroe," Ethan smiled, "you're a nice person."

  Was she? Would a nice person fight a family like this for her niece? Would a nice person even try to take her niece away from a family like this? Lord, with every passing moment things grew more confusing.

  Ethan's head tilted to one side, his gaze narrowing. "Is that hard to believe?"

  "What?" Allison blinked. "Oh. I, uh, I'm not used to hearing personal compliments."

  His eyes shot open wide. "Why the hell not? A beautiful, smart and caring person like you should have compliments coming out the wazoo."

  Beautiful? Her? Fancy was the pretty one, she was the smart one. Caring, okay, she wouldn't be a doctor if she didn't care. But beautiful?

  "Allison?"

  She blinked and looked at Ethan's confused expression. "I was a studious awkward teen in an all-girl school. My first couple of years of college not a whole lot of guys paid attention to the smart, awkward, and jailbait female. I finished my degree in three years and worked twice as hard to prove that I belonged in med school, even if I was only nineteen."

  "You were nineteen and in med school?" His eyes shone with incredulity.

  She shrugged. "Many countries with stronger secondary education, like England, combine college and medical school starting at nineteen."

  "You weren't in England or some other country."

  "No. But by the time I finished medical school I'd not only proven I belonged, I'd caught the eye of several important professors. Professional compliments I'm used to."

  "So, when did you finally outgrow the awkward stage?"

  She shrugged. She'd never be the pretty one. Fancy had the blonde hair and big blue eyes. Allison was the average sister with above average IQ. The only time Allison wasn't awkward was wearing a lab coat and a stethoscope. "Not sure I ever did."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Never did? Did Allison not look in the mirror? If a guy wasn't careful, in a heartbeat those stormy gray eyes could suck him in and never let him loose. Her cute bashful blush that had gotten under his skin more than once brought out every protective instinct engraved in male DNA. And the few times she'd smiled, really smiled, he could feel the
pull in places he had no business feeling a damn thing.

  "I've been sent to bring the required social beverage of the south." Grinning, Grace came in carrying a tray with two glasses of tea and set it down on the table in front of Allison. "And in deference to your status of revered house guest, you not only warrant Aunt Eileen's company-only apron, I have to use the tray to carry two glasses that would have arrived more easily each in a hand."

  "Thank you. But I could have come and gotten them." Allison did that blush thing again and Ethan figured he was going to need every drop of the iced tea.

  Grace flashed a more sincere smile. "It's no big deal. My pleasure. And here you go, big brother." Graced handed him the glass and picked the tray back up. "Holler if you need anything else, I'm all yours until tomorrow morning."

  "Why don't you join us?" Allison said.

  "Nope. Aunt Eileen has us all in work mode. I swear that woman can think up more meaningless tasks than a Marine drill sergeant."

  "And just like a DI, when Aunt Eileen says jump, no one asks how high," Ethan agreed.

  Chuckling, Grace spun on her heel and returned to the kitchen mumbling, "Gotta love her."

  Waving a finger after Grace, Allison asked softly, "Why until tomorrow?"

  "She's going back to Dallas, she's got classes starting." Sitting up as much as he could with Brittany still sleeping on his chest, Ethan downed half the glass in one long, cool swallow.

  Allison, on the other hand, took the tiniest sip and then leaned over to retrieve a small package from the bag. "I picked this up today from a little shop called Sisters. Are those two women really related?"

  Ethan's chest rose and fell in time with his rumble of laughter. "Yeah, they really are sisters, and no we haven't any idea what their real names are."

  "I see." She smiled and opened the lid on the box. "Do you think Brittany will like this?"

  Putting the half-empty tea glass on the table beside him, he received the gift she'd held out to him. "Nice work." He turned it over and over again making the rattle sound. "She should love it."

  "The sisters said it came from a local rancher, he only made one."

  Local rancher. Ethan wondered.

  "What?" Allison tipped her head, studying Ethan more closely. "Do you know who made it?"

  "Maybe. One of the Brady brothers was always good with wood. I think we have a rocker he made. Took in payment for some cattle we sold him. Aunt Eileen treasures it."

  "Why would a furniture maker whittle a baby rattle?"

  "For his child."

  Allison's eyes circled round. "Oh no."

  "No. Nothing like that." Ethan knew where her mind had gone. "Around here folks get married and they've barely left the church when family and friends start asking for the babies. The Bradys all tend toward large families—"

  "Like the Farradays?" There was a hint of humor in her tone.

  "Yes." He smiled. "Like the Farradays. I think they were expecting to start popping them out but turned out his wife had some heart condition no one knew of. One morning she just didn't wake up."

  "Oh my." Hand to her chest, she leaned back. "How sad is that."

  "I'm only guessing that's who might have made the rattle. He had the Sisters sell some other pieces he'd made for their home."

  "Well, it would certainly explain why he wanted a special baby to have it."

  "Sisters said that?"

  Allison nodded.

  "Do you not want to give it to Brittany now?"

  "No. I want her to have it. Sounds like it was made with a lot of love. She deserves that."

  Ethan didn't need to be a genius who went to college at sixteen to read between the lines of what she hadn't said. The rattle was made with love, unlike Brittany. Well, he may not have loved Fancy, but he had more than enough love inside him already for his little girl and nothing in the world could be more important than that.

  The buzzing sound of Allison's cell phone cut the silence in the room. Setting down the rattle, she reached into an outside pocket of her purse and, phone in hand, swiped at the screen. Her brows dipped into a confused V.

  "What's wrong?" Ethan asked.

  "Not wrong. Just odd. I don't recognize the number."

  "What does it say?"

  "Nothing important. Probably a wrong number."

  ***

  What the heck? I made a terrible mistake. Allison stared at the phone. Nothing else. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. One possibility jumped to the forefront of her mind. Fancy. And Allison didn't like what that could mean one bit. She tapped out on the screen—Who is this?—and waited. Nothing. Maybe it was a wrong number. Maybe it wasn't Fancy. Maybe she had nothing to worry about. And maybe life was a bed of roses. "Well. Whoever it is will probably figure out their mistake."

  "Won't be the first texting misconnect and I'm sure it won't be the last." Ethan shrugged.

  Brittany stirred and Ethan dipped his chin to look at her. She wiggled again and Allison noticed both she and Ethan were fixated on Brittany as if she was the second coming. Two arms stretched out and eyes blinked open.

  "She is a good baby."

  "That's what everyone keeps telling me. I have nothing to compare her to. She's the first Farraday of her generation." Ethan kicked the recliner fully upright and shifted Brittany so she was resting on his arms rather than his chest. "Hi, Bree."

  "Bree?"

  "Finn started it and every once in a while I call her that too."

  "One syllable sounds are easier for babies." Allison scooted forward. Waiting to see what Ethan was going to do next.

  His gaze shifted from Brittany to her. "She's going to need a diaper change. Would you like the honors?"

  He didn't have to ask twice. Allison sprang from her seat. In front of Ethan she extended her hands to her niece and was rewarded with a bright grin. Her own smile bloomed from a happy heart.

  "Everything you need is by the porta-crib." He pointed to the set-up on his other side.

  Bending over for the occasional tummy nuzzle or finger tickle, Allison made quick work of changing the diaper.

  When she straightened with Brittany on her hip, Ethan was smiling at her. "You've had practice."

  "Yeah, you could say that." Though he was watching her and the baby, Allison noticed he was running his thumb across his fingers on his injured hand again. "Something wrong?"

  He glanced down at the hand as though just noticing what he'd been doing. "Oh, no. Just feels funny not being all bandaged."

  Without saying a word, she returned Brittany to the porta-crib and pulled Ethan's hand toward her. Running her fingers along the edge of his palm, she scanned the hand from tip to base, pressed her thumb here and there checking for white spots and blood flow. The scar ran the length of his palm. She pinched a fingertip. "You had quite a lot of stitches. Pretty deep laceration. I'm amazed you've been able to get around so well on the crutches."

  Ethan shrugged. "Until that first day in the park I'd been forced to use a wheelchair. Hated it."

  "I bet you did."

  "Keeping my movement to a minimum and the bulky bandaging helped."

  Allison nodded, pinched another finger and glanced up at him then back. She repeated it from finger to finger. "Close your fist for me."

  He did as he was told. All the light had gone from his eyes. Ethan the Marine was in front of her now.

  "Are you doing any therapy for it?" She closed her hand over his and watched his face.

  "I've been doing some exercises the doctor gave me."

  She nodded at him. "How's the feeling?"

  For a moment something akin to surprise, or maybe fear, flashed in his eyes and then disappeared behind the guarded Marine façade. "Fine." Reaching for his crutches, he blew out a heavy breath, then pushed to his feet and settled in front of Brittany, his happy father smile back in place. "It's almost supper time. We should probably check what's happening in the kitchen. Would you mind carrying Brittany for me?"

  "No
t at all." Ethan had no idea how lucky he was to be blessed with a baby with such a pleasant disposition. Brittany probably didn't have colic or any other attitude challenging issues. Infant snuggled in her arms, she watched Ethan swing his way across the room. The man did have one hell of a physique. And if she wasn't mistaken, a secret. When she returned to her laptop tonight she was going to have to add something new to her to-do list.

  ***

  Ethan made his way into the kitchen, Allison and Brittany on his heels. Eileen wasn't sure what the heck was going on in the other room, but from her limited view of the hand holding, sparks of some kind or other should start flying any time now. And the way she saw it, sooner would be better than later.

  "All right. Everyone grab a dish and head for the dining room." She turned to Allison. "Not you dear. You've got precious cargo. There's a swing by Ethan's seat. If you want, you can set her in there."

  "If you don't mind I'd like to hold her a little longer."

  "Don't mind at all." Eileen patted her arm.

  From the back door, Finn headed straight for Allison and the baby. Eileen grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes and before Finn could get within two feet, shoved them at him. "Put these on the table, please."

  Smiling at his niece, he nodded at his aunt. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Ethan," Eileen looked to her nephew standing beside his daughter. "Let Allison have your seat near the swing. You can sit to her right."

  For a split second Eileen thought her nephew was going to object. Instead, like his younger brother, he nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

  All of her family gathering around the table, the boys pulling out the chairs for the women, happy faces, food moving back and forth, and Ethan balancing on his crutches and helping Allison, she had to smile. Some days things just had a way of going nothing but right.