Ethan

by Chris Keniston

  "She can't possibly keep you that busy."

  "More like entertained." His attention drifted to the large kitchen window, and his expression darkened.

  "What's got you so worried?" she asked.

  He turned to face her. "Who says I'm worried?"

  "Okay, you're not worried." She crossed her arms. "Penny for your thoughts?"

  Looking down, his thumb brushed against his middle fingers. "Did you know that a pilot does not have to have feeling in his middle fingers to operate a helicopter?"

  "Only general mobility and range of motion."

  "That's right." He looked at her with surprise.

  A smile tugged at her lips. "I looked it up."

  Nodding, he continued to look at his hand for another few beats then raised his eyes to meet hers. "Did you also look up that numbness or nerve damage to fingers will ground a pilot in the military?"

  The other night, when she'd checked his hand she'd suspected something like this. "Yes."

  "Growing up, whenever we didn't get something we wanted, Aunt Eileen was fond of reminding us when a door closes look for an open window." He turned to the kitchen window. "Right now the only thing stopping me from losing my mind is that thirteen pound bundle of gurgling smiles on the other side of that wall."

  Allison pushed away from the railing and stepped in front of Ethan. "Let me see the hand."

  For a second, she thought he was going to refuse. Then, palm up, he held his hand out for her to examine. She poked, and tapped, much like she had the night before. She retrieved her phone, removed the built-in stylus, put the phone back and began tapping at his hand. "Do you feel this?"

  He nodded.

  She tapped some more. "What about here?"

  "Yeah."

  Slowly she worked her way across different portions of his hand until the response changed to "I feel pressure but not the stick."

  By the time she reached the base of his fingers the feeling was almost completely gone.

  "Well. What's your official report?"

  Still holding onto the hand she shook her head. "There are a lot of factors. Once repair is made the damage begins to heal in three to four weeks."

  "It's been that," he said softly.

  "Yes. But," she touched the numbed flesh, "this area of damage could take as long as a year to fully heal and restore sensation."

  "A year," he repeated under his breath.

  "There's still hope." She wanted very much for there to be more than hope. The pain reflected in his eyes shot through her like a shard of shattered glass. The intensity caught her completely by surprise. The shock of it had her dropping his hand as though it too were broken glass. "I, uh, should check on Brittany, or maybe see what I can do to help before your aunt comes home. Or … something."

  "Yeah," his throat tightened with a long swallow. "Something."

  For whatever reason her feet seemed rooted to the ground. She'd managed a short step back as he reached for the crutches. When he'd pushed to a standing position he was only inches away from her. Clear green eyes flashed bright and then instantly darkened. Muscles along his jaw line corded with tension. Her mind shouted move but her feet remained planted in cement. The need to stretch onto her tippy toes and taste lips now thinly pressed together was so strong she could barely catch her breath. She felt herself rock on her heels and heard the smack of an aluminum crutch on wooden floor at the same second a strong arm slid around her waist and moist lips covered hers.

  Sanity should have had her pulling away, but the press of his hand at the small of her back and the tender touch of his lips gently tasting hers made her never want to run away again.

  "Allison," her name rode the warm breath that caressed her mouth. Ethan's hand eased slowly away. His weight shifted, finding balance without her. "I shouldn't have done that."

  Sucking in a fortifying breath, she took a step in retreat, almost tripping over herself, stumbling out of the way.

  Strong fingers curled around her arm. "Careful." Ethan spoke so low she could barely hear him.

  "Yes."

  "I'm sorry."

  Nodding, she turned and had to force herself to take slow measured steps combating the impulse to run inside. She'd made it all the way to her room, closed the door and, back pressed to the wall, blew out the air trapped in her lungs. What the hell was she doing?

  ***

  Ethan wished to hell he hadn't come out onto the porch. Then the feel of her skin under his fingers, her warmth pressed against him, wouldn't be seared in his mind. Last night when she'd held his hand, he'd had to focus on the medical nature of her ministrations. He'd done the same thing a few minutes ago in anticipation of her touch, but when he'd stood and found himself so close, so very close, and she didn't move, there had been no mental preparation. And no restraint. One minute he was gathering all the self restraint he could muster and the next thing he knew he had her in his arms and freely taking what she wasn't offering. He'd made a mistake. He was supposed to keep an eye on her, not his hands. Or his mouth. And damned if he didn't want to go back inside and pull her into his arms again, and this time not stop.

  Served him right for not minding his own business. With the kitchen window open he could hear the conversation meant to be private. When her phone rang she'd stepped outside and placed the call on speaker, not realizing Ethan could hear every word. If he'd been a better man he would have returned to the living room and given Allison the privacy she wanted, but something stronger than the decent streak he'd been raised with had him hanging on every word. At first the conversation sounded like any communication between people who worked together and he'd listened for some additional information of her intentions. Then the conversation took on a personal tone that left Ethan wondering who this was. A boss, a friend, a lover? Not that it was any of his business, but he'd also detected a sadness in her voice that against his better judgment had him following her outside and planting himself way too close. Or had the question nagging at the back of his mind over the mystery man on the phone been what prompted Ethan to find out for himself if she belonged to another man.

  Either way, now he had no idea who she'd been speaking to, but the way she melted against him, the guy on the line was definitely not her lover, and Ethan hadn't a clue as to why she'd sounded so disheartened on the phone. What he did know was the taste and feel of her, both dangerous pieces of knowledge.

  Crutches in place, he wished he had two good legs to detour to the barn. Every one of his siblings had a different love. His had been things that went really fast and really high. But when something ate at the heart or soul, it was the barn, the hard work, and the horses that got the Farradays through. He desperately needed the distraction of hard work.

  The screen door slammed shut behind him and he crossed through the kitchen into the den. Careful not to look at Allison, he dropped into the recliner. On the loveseat across from him, brows furrowed, Allison tapped away at her computer. In her porta-crib beside him, Brittany slept so peacefully. If only he could bottle that peace of mind. Just as he was reaching for the remote control, the chime of a text message on his phone rang out. Allison's gaze lifted from the keyboard. Their eyes met, and her cheeks filled with that familiar hue of pink.

  Everything about his world had gone totally crazy. A few swipes and an unknown number appeared with the message: I've changed my mind.

  Bashfulness hid behind Allison's concerned eyes. "You're frowning."

  "Just got the strangest text. Whoever it is has changed their mind about something." When he looked back at Allison from the phone, all color had drained from her face.

  Practically tossing the computer aside, she sprang off the couch, ran from the room and reappeared with her cell in hand. "What's the number?"

  "Area code 251—"

  "941," she filled in.

  "Yeah. 5555."

  "Oh, God," Allison sank into the nearest seat.

  "What am I missing?" he asked, too tired to think for himself.


  “Remember my strange text the other day?”

  He had to think a minute. "The wrong number?"

  Allison nodded. Shaking hands passed him her phone.

  “I've made a terrible mistake," he read softly, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. He couldn't voice the possibility that popped into his head.

  Wringing her fingers, she sucked in a deep breath. "It occurred to me it might be Fancy, but when she didn't respond, I convinced myself it really was a mistake."

  "Where the hell is the 251 area code?" Ethan swiped at his screen and plugged in the numbers in question. "Alabama Gulf Coast."

  "Alabama?"

  If they were right and the caller was Fancy, he had no idea why she was in Alabama, but as far as he was concerned, Antarctica wasn't far enough away. "I'd better call DJ."

  Allison nodded, reached out, and grabbed his wrist. "If it's her…"

  He bobbed his head.

  "If Fancy's changed her mind… We can't let her have Brittany…The things the detective told me." She shook her head and took a deep breath. "I don't want to imagine the life that sweet baby would have if she were left and forgotten in some seedy apartment with who knows who."

  He nodded at her. Even if all evidence showed Fancy had done a good job with Brittany for the first two months of her life, and bringing her to him also showed some common sense on Fancy's part, he still didn't want to even consider Allison's nightmare scenario, never mind repeat it out loud.

  "Promise me?" She squeezed his wrist.

  "Trust me. Come hell or high water, no one is taking my daughter. If it comes down to my cold dead body, there are six more Farradays who will make sure that little girl stays right where she belongs."

  Allison sucked in a deep shaky breath and Ethan had the feeling he'd just confirmed her worst fears. What she'd come all the way to Texas to uncover. If it was Brittany Allison wanted, she and her sister were just shit out of luck.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The family police chief had little to say about the texts but agreed to look into it. Until the rest of the family came home, Allison buried her nose in her laptop and Ethan played with Brittany. Allison had desperately wanted to join in on the odd efforts at Patty Cake and This Little Piggy, but she didn't dare get close to Ethan, so like a coward, she did nothing.

  Her reprieve came with the arrival of the working Farradays.

  From the kitchen Finn headed straight to Brittany. "Hey there, sweet thing. Uncle Finn is home." He pulled her up in the air and held her high over his head, making her giggle. Next, he pulled her down against his face, blew into her tummy, and Brittany would laugh even harder. After several minutes of that, he settled her in one arm and looked around the room. "Don't y'all look nice and domestic. Opposite sides of the room like old married people."

  The statement should have made her laugh. It was a joke. Said in fun. But panic coursed through her at the ludicrous fear that somehow Finn knew they'd been kissing. Had he been near the house? Had he seen them? Was it written all over her face? Geeky doctor got kissed by hunky cowboy? Oh Lord, it was all she could do not to hyperventilate.

  The front door opened and Aunt Eileen walked in. She too headed straight for Brittany and practically snatched the baby from her uncle's arms. "Boy did I miss you today."

  Allison dared a glance in Ethan's direction and noticed his stiff posture. Had the harmless comment from his brother affected Ethan the same way it had her? So what? So they kissed. People did it all the time. She really needed to get a grip.

  "Sean should be coming in shortly. I'd better get supper warmed and on the table."

  "I'll help." Allison jumped to her feet. Anything to keep her mind off kissing and Ethan.

  "Works for me." Aunt Eileen handed the baby back to her father and turned for the kitchen. "You have a good day?"

  "Yeah, yes."

  Aunt Eileen pulled a huge foil covered tray from the fridge. "Why don't you grab some fixings for salad. These boys like their meat and potatoes but I gotta get some greens in them too."

  "Sure." Glad to have something to do with her hands, she pulled lettuce and a few fixings, as Aunt Eileen had said, from the vegetable bin and began dicing.

  Aunt Eileen closed the oven door and fiddled with the knobs. When she looked at Allison her brows crinkled together. "You sure you had a good day? Baby didn't give you any trouble, did she?"

  "No. Brittany was fine. I just…" She wasn't going to say got rattled by the best kiss she'd ever had. Not that she'd had that many to compare it to. "Had a few work things to deal with. Spoke with the head of my department today."

  Aunt Eileen opened the bread bin and pulled out a loaf of unsliced bread along with a large knife. "Nothing serious I hope?"

  "No, no. But you know how it is."

  "Did you know," Ethan's aunt paused from cutting thick slices and waved the long serrated knife in the air, "that Brooks is opening a small clinic?"

  "Really?" She tossed the pepper into a bowl and reached for a tomato. "I wouldn't think there's that much need out here."

  "Nearest hospital is ninety miles away and for the serious stuff folks have to go all the way to Abilene or Lubbock."

  "Yes. I could see why."

  "Some trauma cases have been air lifted all the way to Dallas."

  "Yes, well. I'm not surprised." She continued dicing.

  Aunt Eileen slathered butter on the one-inch-thick slices of bread. "When folks closer to Tuckers Bluff start coming here instead of trucking all the way to Butler Springs, Brooks isn't going to be able to handle the load on his own."

  Allison raised a brow at the woman.

  "Of course country doctorin' isn't like a big city hospital."

  "No," Allison smiled. "I'm sure it's not." But at least it's a far cry better than a tent in the jungle. "Are there a lot of folks around here who can't afford medical care?"

  Eileen scoffed, "Not everyone around these parts has a spread like this. We've got all kinds of folks eking a living from the land, and most have big families. The days of doctors getting paid with chickens and eggs are gone for the most part, but sometimes…" She let her words hang.

  Allison got the message.

  "That smells great." Sean came in the back door, hung his hat on a nearby hook and went straight to the sink to wash his hands. Allison felt like a character in an old western TV show. All she needed was the apron and a dog.

  The rest of the evening went more or less the same way. She and Ethan avoided getting within ten feet of each other, the family laughed, and chatted, and teased all through dinner, and Brittany was pretty much the light of the room and center of attention all the way to bedtime.

  Thirty minutes into a re-run of Sean Farraday's favorite TV show, Aunt Eileen stood, a cup of warm tea in her hand, and yawned. "I think I'm going to call it a night early. Feeling a bit tired."

  Sean nodded, Finn had gone off to his room right after supper and Ethan winked. The roguish gesture made his aunt laugh and in turn Allison saw the first sincere smile of the day on Ethan's face. She was thinking now would be as good time as any to make her escape when Ethan's phone rang and his lips tightened.

  "Yeah." Looking to Allison, Ethan mouthed, "DJ."

  She inched to the edge of the sofa, not able to hear a blessed thing other than Ethan's occasional grunt.

  "All right. I'll check with my lawyer. See if we can't hurry up that blasted appearance before the judge. And thanks, bro." Ethan set his phone aside.

  "Well, is it her?"

  "The number is a throw away phone bought at a convenience store in Mobile. A friend of DJ's had someone go flash Francine's driver's license photo. It was her. Apparently she's not alone. Traveling with a man. They'd spent a couple of nights in a fleabag motel and then moved on. That's all he knows for now."

  Sean Farraday had lowered the volume on the TV as soon as Ethan began speaking. "What is this all about?"

  Ethan sighed. "Both Allison and I received cryptic texts from th
e same number. The only thing we have in common is her sister."

  Her sister. Not Brittany's mother. Not even his ex, but her sister. What did that tell about how this entire crazy situation was evolving?

  Ethan's father shook his head. "Whatever is going on with that poor woman, DJ will be on top of it, but we need to get things official once and for all." He turned off the TV. "I think I've had enough of the world for one night. Don't stay up too late."

  "No, sir," Ethan responded.

  "Goodnight." His father waved at the two of them and made his way up the stairs.

  "He's right." Ethan pushed to his feet. "I'm going to see if I can't get some sleep."

  Allison nodded and turned. Maybe sleep would make sense of everything.

  Only it didn't help a blessed thing. For hours Allison tossed and turned. If she wasn't worrying about Fancy she was anxiously anticipating Brittany waking up and having to work with Ethan in his small room. Though it wasn't so much the size of the room that was a problem for her but the size of the large bed in the middle. Yesterday the bed hadn't made any impact on her. Tonight, after that unexpected kiss, the bed seemed to jump to the forefront of her mind.

  According to the clock at her bedside table Brittany's complaints came across the narrow hall into Allison's room right on time at a little after three. Throwing back the blankets, she sucked in a deep breath and wiped at her eyes. She'd faced down two- and four-legged leeches, so one good looking cowboy wasn't going to get the best of her. At least that's what she'd been reminding herself for hours. Even though she'd gone to bed in sleeping pants and a t-shirt, she took a minute to throw on her bathrobe. At Ethan's door, without actually stopping, she called to him, "I'll get the bottle," and went straight for the kitchen.

  When she came back to the room, Ethan secured the last tape tab on the diaper and lifted Brittany into his arms. Poor guy looked as tired as Allison felt. And she might be oversensitive, but she was pretty sure he was avoiding looking her in the eye.

  "Do you want me to feed her or are you up to it?"