Ethan

by Chris Keniston

  "I can do it." With his daughter in the crook of his arm, he accepted the bottle.

  Allison waited a few moments. "When you’re done put the bottle on the night table. I'm going back to bed. Guess I'll see you in the morning."

  Lifting his gaze to meet hers, Ethan flashed a very tired smile. "Why don't you sit down a minute. I think we should talk."

  "Now?" They'd had all evening to talk and he'd hardly said two words to her after speaking to his brother.

  "Now is about the only time it will be just the two of us."

  He was right about that. "Okay," she took a seat on the edge of the bed. "What's on your mind?"

  ***

  That was something Allison did not want to know. Even if Ethan knew that what was on his mind would make those cheeks of hers flush a pretty shade of pink. "What are your intentions?"

  "My intentions?"

  "As soon as the judge signs off on the release of parental rights, Brittany's future with me will be secure. If Fancy has indeed changed her mind and wants Brittany back before the judge signs off on it, that could be a mess." Allison nodded and Ethan went over the words that he'd rehearsed for hours. "You said before we can't let that happen."

  "I did."

  "Because you'll stand by me or because you want Brittany yourself?"

  Allison's eyes opened wide and for a second he thought she might sway off the edge of the bed. Her eyes shifted to Brittany sucking at her bottle, and then, squeezing those same eyes shut, Allison blew out a soft sigh and lifted her lids to level her gaze with his. "When I first heard about Brittany I thought there had to be some mistake. That there was another Francine Monroe Langdon out there. Once I was convinced Brittany was indeed my niece, my only thought was getting to her. I was going to make damn sure she had a better childhood than either me or Francine and I sure as hell wasn't going to let her turn out like her mother."

  He could see why she might feel that way. Even though Fancy had a good heart, she had plenty of bad habits. Most he hadn't seen for himself, but in their brief time together Fancy had almost used him as a therapist. They'd actually spent more time talking, or in his case listening, than they had other things.

  "I knew your family seemed like nice people on the surface. But you're a man. What do you know about raising a little girl?"

  He heard himself chuckle, and at the flare of annoyance in her eyes, he spoke up quickly. "Don't think I haven't asked myself that same question a hundred times."

  "See." Her shoulders relaxed and she scooted further in on the bed. "I'd convinced myself, even if you turned out to be a better man than a weekend hookup would imply—"

  "Ouch." Away from Tuckers Bluff a woman in every port seemed perfectly normal, but the way Allison spat the word hookup made him feel like pond scum.

  She rolled her eyes. "Face it, the world is filled with a lot more fathers who just walked away than mothers."

  "I don’t think this is the time to go there."

  "No." Her gaze settled on Brittany and softened. "But you can't blame me for thinking a swashbuckling jet jock—"

  "Those are fighter pilots."

  "And you don't fight?" She straightened her spine. "I suppose you broke that ankle bowling."

  This was no time to quibble over semantics or nicknames. He shook his head.

  "I rest my case." Her shoulders relaxed again. "It wasn't out of line for me to think as a man whose visits home on leave are few and far between that you might be relieved to have someone take a baby off your hands."

  "Is that what you thought would happen? That you'd find a frazzled single dad who knew more about lift and drag than diapers and burping?"

  Slowly her head bobbed.

  The bottle empty, he set it aside and shifted Brittany to his shoulder, patted her back. "As you can see I've mastered burping."

  A sweet smile crossed Allison's lips and his conscience kicked his ego to the curb.

  "If I didn't have the help of my family I probably would have been exactly what you expected," he raised a silencing finger at her when she started to speak, "but, I still would have found a way to make this work." The fact that he was still figuring all of that out in his own mind was irrelevant. And as he was starting to realize, going back to fly for Uncle Sam might not be the obstacle he feared.

  Allison drew in a deep breath and let out a long heavy sigh. "Which is why, as hard as it is, I do believe you and your family can provide Brittany with a better life than I can."

  He had to think about that a second. He knew Allison made an excellent living, or perhaps she might be low on funds at the moment from running around the world, but a successful surgeon should be able to provide for her niece and yet …

  "After all," a smile bloomed out of her sad expression, "what little girl wouldn't want to grow up with a real pony."

  "Thank you." Brittany had long ago burped and fallen asleep, but he held on to her anyhow like a much-needed security blanket.

  Palms flat on her thighs, Allison nodded and pushed herself upright. "And with that finally established, I have a boss anxious to get me home and back in the operating room, so it's probably best I pack up and head to the airport tomorrow."

  Ethan nodded. What more could he say?

  "If I hear any more from my sister I'll let you know, and if you need me to help with the judge..."

  "Thanks."

  She nodded, the smile faded, and he watched her back as she crossed the hall. She was right. It was time for her to get back to her life and for him and Brittany to move on with theirs. So why did he feel like he'd just been kicked in the teeth?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Doors slamming, pans banging, and male voices mumbling snapped Allison out of a deep sleep. As much as giving up her claim to Brittany hurt, an unexpected sense of calm washed over her as soon as she'd made the choice. Another pot clanked followed by a colorful four letter word and Allison decided she'd better see what the heck was going on.

  Sean Farraday stood by the stove, a cooking fork in one hand and the pointer finger of his other in his mouth. Ethan had Brittany on one shoulder while he scooped beans into the coffee maker, and Finn looked up from all fours, paper towels in one hand, wet rag in the other and blob of raw eggs in the middle. "I dropped the carton."

  The clock on the wall said it was only 5:30 a.m. "Where's Aunt Eileen?"

  "Sick." Sean flipped a bacon strip. "Making her breakfast."

  Finn laughed. "Or trying."

  Allison looked to Ethan fidgeting with the coffeepot. "Hasn't she ever been sick before?"

  All three heads turned and looked at Allison as though she'd just declared the moon was indeed made of green cheese. "No," they echoed.

  Not the homemaker that Aunt Eileen was, Allison was smart enough to know few ailments handled fried bacon well. "What kind of sick?"

  Again three heads turned, then one by one each Farraday man shrugged.

  "Okay. I think I'd better go see for myself. Be right back."

  "First room on the left," Sean called out to her as she climbed the stairs.

  "Left," she mumbled, and turned at the first door. "Hello there."

  Propped atop a hundred pillows covered with bulky feather comforters, Aunt Eileen reminded Allison of a scene from a movie about the first Queen Elizabeth. "Don't come too close, I might be contagious."

  Allison stopped in her tracks though she doubted, if she hadn't contracted dengue or some other jungle fever by now, that whatever Aunt Eileen had would be a problem. "How do you feel?"

  "Lousy." Aunt Eileen gave two soft dry coughs.

  "Doesn't sound like you're congested."

  "Oh, no." She ran her fingers under her eyes from her nose across her cheeks. "I can feel the pressure all in here."

  "I see." Allison inched closer. "Do you have a fever?"

  "101. I took some aspirin. I'm sure it's just a twenty-four hour thing I must have picked up in town yesterday. A good day of rest and fluids and I'll be fine."

&nbs
p; The woman was right, rest, take two aspirin and drink plenty of fluids was as good of medical advice as she could have given. "Are you hungry?"

  "Not really." Eileen's nose scrunched with distaste. "Maybe some nice tea. Chamomile."

  Allison nodded. "I'll see that you get some."

  "Oh." Aunt Eileen held up her hand. "I'm sorry to put this on you, dear, but can you please see to it that the boys don't wreck the house while I'm not looking? I have a casserole in the freezer you can defrost. And of course, I'm so thankful you're here to help Ethan since I won't be able to be his legs for now."

  "Yes." She did her best to offer a sincere smile.

  Back in the kitchen, she surveyed the situation. The fridge was stocked, the pantry was the size of a small apartment, and the freezer had more than one casserole. Too bad Allison didn't have a clue which casserole Eileen had meant. From where she stood Allison could see into the laundry room and the growing pile of dirty clothes the family caregiver had not gotten to.

  The sun was beginning to light the morning sky. She'd been in the house long enough to know the normal routine was breakfast, then saddling the horses and ready for the day’s work at first light.

  Tightening the sash on her robe, Allison turned to Finn, still mopping the floor. "Let me have that. You guys go get the horses ready. I'll pack up a couple of egg sandwiches for you to take."

  "You don't have to do that."

  Allison smiled. "No I don't, but I want to." And much to her surprise, though she'd never considered herself the domestic type, she really did.

  Finn and his father nodded and, grabbing their hats from the hook by the door, made their way outside to the barn.

  Ethan turned to her. "What can I do?"

  "Stay out of my way." She laughed. "You can wait for Brittany to wake, I'm going to make breakfast." Rolling up her sleeves she sucked in a breath and reached for the fridge and another carton of eggs. The way her life had taken a new turn, waiting another day to go home wouldn't be the worst thing to happen by a long shot.

  ***

  "Four days. Aunt Eileen's never been sick for four days. And missing a Saturday poker game?" Wiggling his toes, Ethan relished the freedom of a cast-free foot and calculated how long it would take to get his calf muscle back in shape. His leg looked like it belonged to a 90-pound weakling.

  "She is getting older." Brooks checked the pulse in Ethan's ankle.

  "Not that old."

  Brooks slid his hand up to Ethan's knee to check another pulse. "Any word on Fancy?"

  Ethan shook his head.

  "What about the judge?"

  "Yes, thank heaven. We're on the docket for Monday. Allison signed an affidavit for me."

  "Good." Brooks patted his brother's leg. "The foot too. Let me take a look at the x-rays and we'll see if you need another cast or if we can put you in a boot."

  Ethan was hoping for a boot. The damn cast had been a pain in the neck for walking, standing, bathing, and just about life all around. At least he could take the boot off and enjoy a normal shower.

  "So what's the prognosis?" DJ stood in the doorway to the exam room.

  "Don't know yet."

  DJ hefted one shoulder in a what-can-you-do gesture. "Saw the truck out front. Was about to call you so I stopped by instead."

  "Any word on Fancy?"

  DJ shook his head. "It's like she fell off the face of the earth. Again."

  "Yeah, again. From what Allison says she's good at that."

  "How are things going?" DJ moved closer to the exam table.

  "Allison?"

  His brother rolled his eyes. "Yes, Allison."

  "What's to go? She's helping with the house and the baby and as soon as Aunt Eileen is back on her feet Allison is going home to California."

  "And you're okay with that?"

  "Of course I'm okay with that." At least that's what he'd kept telling himself, but with each passing day he wasn't so sure he believed himself any more.

  "All right." Brooks entered the room and smiled at DJ. "Hey, anything new to report?"

  DJ shook his head. "Nope."

  "Okay." Brooks turned to Ethan. "You're going to like this. Bone is nicely healed. Honestly, it looks better than I would have expected for almost exactly six weeks."

  "I got good genes." Ethan grinned.

  "Yeah, well. Even so. You still have a great deal of soft tissue damage." He slapped the x-ray on a backlit block. "See all this gray stuff?"

  Ethan and DJ nodded.

  "That's not supposed to be there."

  Lucky him. "So now what?"

  "I can prescribe the boot. Once the soft tissue improves your orthopedist will probably want you to start physical therapy. Any idea yet if you'll be able to do that around here or if you have to return to Pendleton?"

  "No. Nothing for sure yet." Though he was pretty confident with his hand still numb, going back to home station was not going to be a priority.

  "All right then. We've got some orthotics in the storeroom gearing up for the new clinic. I think we'll have one just about your size."

  Ethan's grin pulled at his cheeks and his mood. With all the stress of the last few weeks, finally getting out of that damn cast was better than sex. Well, maybe.

  ***

  Catherine had brought her daughter Stacy over to visit with Aunt Eileen and the baby. The little girl adored being with the real life doll. The interaction made Allison wonder if her sister had been that excited to be around her when she was a baby.

  "She doesn't look that sick to me." Catherine took another sip of coffee.

  "I think she's feeling much better but enjoying all the attention." Allison had never thought Aunt Eileen was that sick to begin with, but figured after twenty-five years of raising this brood, she deserved a few days of bed rest.

  "How about you? Holding up okay?"

  "Oh yeah. I've learned to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. A soft bed and hot running water."

  Catherine laughed. "Can't get much simpler than that. Listen, tonight is girls' night. A few of us are getting together at Becky's place over the animal clinic to watch movies and drink margaritas. Care to join us?"

  "Oh, I don't know."

  "The guys can handle Stacy and Brittany."

  "I'm sure they can. It's not that."

  "Then what?"

  Allison was at a loss for words. How could she tell a beautiful woman like Catherine who had probably been prom and homecoming queen that girls' night was a new concept for Allison. Work hard and work harder had been her unspoken mantra. "Then nothing. Thank you for including me."

  "Don't think twice. It's a little startling to have spent most of your life working eighty hours a week in a bustling city and then one day find yourself in the middle of West Texas ranch country."

  "Try working seventy-two hours straight with only a cot and a nap in the bustling city only to find yourself in a raft floating down the Amazon."

  "You got me on that one." Catherine stood to refill her cup. "Want another?"

  Allison shook her head. "Don't you get a little bored with this slower paced life?"

  "It's not really as slow as you might think. Ranch work starts before sunup. Connor is working on building his own stable but until the wedding he's still living here and working the ranch with his brothers."

  "Yeah, I noticed. Thought it was kind of nice."

  "Don't get us wrong. We're not that tied to traditional conventions, but with Stacy so young…” Catherine shrugged and Allison grinned.

  There hadn't been any doubt in her mind that she'd made the right choice not fighting for full time custody of Brittany. Still, every day, every new thing she learned about the people in this family only reassured her that if there was a chance in hell of Brittany having a charmed life, it would be here in Farraday country.

  "Anyhow," Catherine retook her seat, "I've been keeping pretty busy setting up the legal side of the new stable. It also turns out that there are quite a few folks in town
who are thrilled not to have to drive to Butler Springs for decent legal advice. Though making wills and settling small claims disputes isn't high profile, getting a chance to help people like Charlotte and Jake Thomas creates a nice balance." She took a sip of the warm coffee. "And besides, I'm really having a blast setting up the new foundation."

  "Foundation? For what?"

  "Equine therapy."

  "Really?" When Allison had been on track with neurology, she'd had some interest in the benefits of equine therapy on both children and adults post-op. "How is that?"

  "Not many people are going to truck all the way out here for regular therapy, but I came across some articles on summer camps for handicapped kids that use horses for therapy. Connor and I both loved the idea."

  "So you're starting a foundation for… underprivileged children?"

  Catherine tapped her nose. "Spot on. We really are loving it. There's something enormously satisfying about helping those who can't do for themselves that a corporate courtroom win can't beat."

  "You're preaching to the choir."

  "What choir?" Ethan hobbled into the room and Allison's gaze dropped to his foot.

  "They fitted you with a walking boot?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Allison wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Ethan grin quite so wide. "They did tell you not to abuse it. You still need to stay off your feet and keep that leg elevated."

  "Yes, doctor. But you'll be happy to know that Dr. Brooks was very clear on my instructions and that abuse of privileges could set me back."

  "Okay. Then sit down. That's an order."

  She'd been wrong. His grin got even wider. The last few days, with mostly only the two of them home all day long except for mealtime and after supper, an easy rapport had settled between them—once she'd gotten over her embarrassment at kissing him,

  "Oh crap." Catherine looked at her phone then up at the kitchen clock. "How did I miss what time it is. I've gotta run. I told Connor I'd leave him supper before girls' night." She sprang from her seat, leaned against Ethan and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Glad to see you up and mobile."