by Lisa Carter
Standing in the Mason Jar, Ethan did what he should have done in the first place—prayed. Instead of thinking he knew best; instead of pushing her into a reunion she wasn’t ready for.
Help me make this right with her, Father.
A bin loaded with dirty dishes in her arms, she went behind the counter.
He sank onto a stool. “Hey.”
Ponytail swishing, she removed an order pad from the back pocket of her jeans. “What would you like?”
He leaned forward, resting his arms on the countertop. “Please forgive me for interfering. For thinking I know what’s best for you. I’m sorry, Amber, for not respecting your wishes about Dwight.”
Her face crumpled. “Why didn’t you tell me about him being with the girls at the dance?”
Ethan ducked his head. “I was afraid you’d be angry.”
“I am angry at you, but because you weren’t honest with me.” Her eyes bored into him. “I’ve had my fill of dishonest men.”
“Things between us were so good. I’d hate to lose our...our friendship.”
She looked at him a long, hard moment as he fidgeted on the stool. “So would I. But from here on out there must be only honesty between us. Okay?”
Amber would never understand what had started out as a way to get his grandmother to the beach had evolved into more than he could have ever possibly imagined. Into something he wasn’t yet willing to put a name to. But he did know that whatever lay between them was something he’d never experienced before.
Something sweet. Something tender. Something fragile.
Ethan no longer felt the same as he had when he agreed to the deal with his grandmother. But if he told Amber about their bargain now, she’d shut him out. They—he—needed more time. Time for him to regain and solidify her trust in him.
He pushed aside his doubts. Once she graduated, he’d come clean. By then... By then what?
“Ethan?”
He snapped back to the present.
She peered at him. “Is anything wrong? Is there anything else you need to tell me?”
His heart hammered. “Nothing, except you’re beautiful.” Rising off the stool, he leaned across the counter and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
She blushed.
“And...”
The vein in the hollow of her throat pulsed a steady beat. “And?” She tilted her head.
“And I wouldn’t say no to a piece of pie and coffee.”
Her lips quirking, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll ruin your lunch.”
Ethan’s gaze lingered on the movement of her hand. “I’ll take my chances.”
Amber Fleming had already ruined more than lunch for him.
Truth was, he was in over his head. And he knew it. So now what did he intend to do about it?
* * *
The next week was busy with Amber studying for finals and finishing her last clinicals. She awoke Thursday morning to the sound of rain beating upon the trailer roof. Ugh. She buried her face in the pillow.
It would be an ordeal getting the girls in and out of the car. She’d better locate the rain boots Miss IdaLee gave them for Christmas. And pray she’d left the umbrella in the hall closet and not in the car.
“The pink boots awe mine, Stehwaa,” Lucy yelped.
“No...” Stella squealed.
There was a thunk. And a shrill cry of juvenile outrage.
Amber threw back the covers. Sometimes two rambunctious little girls felt like legions of children.
With predictions of punishing winds and torrential downpours, the forecasted nor’easter had arrived. And she discovered a notification on her phone informing her that school for the girls was canceled. She would’ve loved nothing better than to stay home with the twins.
But while school might’ve closed its doors for the duration, the Mason Jar had not. Ethan would be on twin duty all day. When she pulled into ErmaJean’s driveway, he was waiting for them on the porch.
Lucy went into a frenzy of waving. “Efan!”
Stella wagged her fingers. “Ethan!”
Nursing a coffee mug, he looked ridiculously handsome with his tousled hair, T-shirt and his bare feet poking from beneath his jeans. Amber’s heart went into overdrive.
As soon as she cut the engine, both girls released the belts buckling them into their booster seats and clambered out of the vehicle.
“Girls. Hold on.” She struggled to disengage her seat belt, which appeared to be sticking again. “Let me—” With a whizzing sound, the belt came free and she scrambled after them.
By the time she reached the porch, Ethan had put his mug on the railing and allowed himself to be engulfed by the twins.
Lucy was giving him a blow-by-blow description of everything that had occurred in her life since she saw Ethan last. Yesterday. Tucked up against him, Stella was content to be near him.
Amber sighed. She could relate. She flushed, annoyed with herself.
“Mr. Popularity.” She folded her arms. “I’m sorry to unload the girls on you for the whole day.”
Ethan smiled that crooked smile of his, which did that fluttery thing to her abdomen. “The weather’ll be too bad to work outside, anyway.” He looked at her. “The girls, Grandma and I will have a blast together.”
Her irritation grew. She told herself it was because she was going to miss out on a day of fun with her children. Which was true. But she was also going to miss sharing the day with him.
And that wasn’t acceptable. Not to her peace of mind. He wasn’t part of her long-term plan. She wasn’t part of his.
She probably shouldn’t have come into work today. But she couldn’t afford to lose a paycheck. As it turned out, the Mason Jar could have done without her. A few stalwart customers came in for the breakfast special. The sensible ones stayed home.
Through the plate glass window, she watched the weather worsen. For the most part, the streets were deserted. Wind gusts sent the trees on the town square seesawing. A steady deluge of rain battered the roof of the diner.
By eleven, the owner decided to close early. Amber’s turn to close the restaurant, the other staff soon departed. She’d just finished mopping the floor when she received a text saying her night class had been canceled. Wonderful. She’d pick up the girls and go home.
The bell jangled.
Without looking up, she set the mop into the bucket of water. “Sorry. I’m afraid we’re closed for the—” She went rigid.
Clad in a yellow-striped swift water rescue jacket and hip waders, her father shuffled inside the diner, dripping water on her just-washed floors.
She frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see how you were faring.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Five years and two children too late, Dad.”
He pushed the hood off his head. “The rain has been coming down hard. Six inches in three hours with more predicted. The rivers and creeks are rising fast. Be careful heading home with the girls. Some roads are already flooded, and your trailer is in a particularly vulnerable area.”
“Your belated concern for our well-being is touching.”
“I also came to tell you how sorry I am, Amber, for letting you down when you needed me the most.”
Her mouth opened. She closed it with a snap.
“I was so lost in my grief.” He took a step forward. “It’s no excuse, but it was easier to be angry at you for marrying Tony than facing my own pain.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Feel free to gloat. You were right about him. I should’ve never married him.”
Her father shook his head. In the fluorescent lighting, she realized for the first time how silver his hair had become. Grief had a way of aging a person. For an instant, sympathy flickered.
Sh
e doused the flame before it had a chance to take hold.
“I would never gloat about Tony hurting you. It was exactly what I feared, but seeing it come to pass gave me no satisfaction.”
She swallowed. “I survived. And like you taught me and Matt, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“If I could go back and do that day over again—”
“As I’ve learned, life doesn’t give do-overs.”
“Perhaps not, but God gives us second chances.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Two second chances like Lucy and Stella.”
Amber drew up. “Don’t try seeing them behind my back again, Dad.”
He extended his hand. “I’m asking for your forgiveness, Amber. I regret so much. Not the least of which is not knowing those precious children of yours.”
She lifted her chin. “Like you once told me, you made your bed hard, and now it’s you who has to lie in it.”
“I’ve wished so many times I never said that to you, honey.”
Bitterness washed over her. “But you did.”
His shoulders slumped. “If there is no forgiveness, love or mercy—” he opened his hands “—what else is left for any of us?”
The words stirred something in her heart. Before she could respond, the handheld radio sticking out of his jacket crackled.
He answered the call. Through the static, Amber surmised the emergency involved a flooded parking lot and people stranded inside the town hall. Signing off, he faced Amber again.
“I’ve got to go. Another swift water rescue. Fifth one today.” His jaw worked. “Don’t drive through any standing water. Growing up on the river, you know firsthand the unrelenting force of the current. Maybe you ought to think about staying at ErmaJean’s until the storm passes.”
“We’ll be fine.” She motioned to the door. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“Be careful out there today.” His gaze cut to the torrents of rain outside the window. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
Truer words... Although with Ethan in her life, she was starting to hope the worst was over and that her future was on an upswing.
Her father left the diner. She flicked off the lights and locked the door. Stepping out from underneath the awning, the full force of the squall battered her as she ran for her car.
Driving the short distance to ErmaJean’s took longer than usual. The buffeting wind slowed her progress. Pulling into the driveway, she cut the engine and made a dash for the front door.
Pressing the bell, she was surprised when it was ErmaJean who answered. The wind caught the door and flung it against the wall with a bang.
“Land sakes, Amber.” ErmaJean stepped aside. “Come in. Come in. My, it’s nasty out there today.”
“Grandma?” Ethan called from the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”
“Right as rain,” ErmaJean hollered. She winked at Amber. “So to speak.”
Amber was struggling to shut the door when Ethan appeared. Putting his shoulder into it, he wrestled the door closed.
He grinned at her. “Kind of a wet day, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “As always, the master of the obvious.”
From the back of the house, there came a crash.
The three of them flinched.
“Sowee!” Lucy yelled.
“It was an accident,” Stella shouted.
The adults exchanged sheepish looks.
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to do whatever it was they did,” Ethan said.
Amber sighed. “They never do.”
“Don’t y’all talk about my little sweethearts like that.” ErmaJean tilted her chin in the direction of the kitchen. “Be right there, sweet peas.” She shuffled down the hall.
All at once, Amber became aware of her drenched clothing. She probably resembled a drowned rat. “I don’t want to drip on the carpet so...”
Playfully, he ran his finger across her cheek. “Good thing sugar doesn’t melt.” The raindrops shimmered on his fingertip. “Or you’d be in trouble.” He gave her a lopsided grin.
Butterflies zinged inside her belly. Prickles of awareness danced up and down her arms. Her senses rocketed.
Amber tried for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “So you’re saying I’m like sugar?”
“Sugar with a dash of red chili peppers thrown in for good measure.” Mischief and something else—something that made her heart palpitate—gleamed in his eyes. “And I think perhaps I’ve developed a sweet tooth.” His teeth flashed white, strong and even.
Unconsciously, or maybe not so unconsciously, she moistened her lips. As if replying to an unspoken invitation, Ethan leaned closer, only inches separating her mouth from his.
Her heart thudded.
“May I?” he murmured.
Always such a gentleman. Even when they were kids, he’d treated her so differently. So tenderly. Her heart cried out for tenderness. Not just from anyone, but from him. Ethan Green, her brother’s best friend.
Placing her hands flat on his broad shoulders, she rose on tiptoe. He hadn’t moved.
“Amber?” he rasped. “Do you want me to kiss you?” A note of gravelly hesitation laced his voice.
She realized she’d not answered his question.
“Yes, Ethan...” Her breath hitched. “I want you to kiss—”
“Mommy!” Lucy shrilled from the kitchen.
Jerking, she let go of Ethan and came down on her heels, hard. Jolted, he fell face forward into the wall beside her.
“Oh!” She touched his arm.
“Ow!” He touched his face. “Good thing you’re a nurse. I have a feeling the training will come in handy over the years.”
She smiled. “Let me see.” She removed his hand from his head. “And I’m not a nurse.” The skin on his forehead was red but unbroken.
“Not yet.”
“Mom-meeeee!”
Amber let her head fall forward where Ethan’s shoulder caught it. Laughter rumbled beneath his cotton shirt.
“The troops are calling. You better go before there’s a riot.” His arms went around her and she seriously considered never moving again. Too quickly, however, he let her go.
“Right.” Gulping, she stepped away. “I better get them home before it gets any worse outside.”
“Uh, Amber?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I know I said I wasn’t going to interfere with your decisions again...” He shuffled his feet.
Amber raised her eyebrow. “But let me guess. You are, anyway?”
He blew out a breath. “It’s getting bad out there. The trailer is not in the most ideal location. And your car...” He ran his hand over his head. “Why don’t you stay here until the storm passes? Then I could run you all home in the truck.”
She pursed her lips. “I appreciate your concern, but all I want to do is go home, put my feet up and watch the rain with the girls.”
Amber watched a war wage across his features. But he resisted the urge to butt in, giving her the respect to make her own decisions. For better or for worse.
“Okay,” he grunted. “But call me when you get home.”
“Will do.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Despite the weather, the outlook on her future felt bright with promise.
Immediately, she tempered her optimism. Best not to get her hopes up. Best to rely on herself. To need only herself. Take life as it came. Day by day.
Ethan caught her arm before she could stage a full-blown retreat to the safety of the kitchen.
“Rain check?” he drawled.
She gave him a sly sideways look. “For what?” And enjoyed his snort of derision.
“You know what, Amber Dawn Fleming.”
“You mean you want to kiss me again?” Amber hid her smile. “It’ll mean waiting fo
r another rainy day.” She started to push a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, but his hand found the strand first.
“Silk,” he whispered as he wrapped the lock around his finger. “Some things are worth waiting for.” His hand lingered, cupping her ear.
Yes... Some things definitely were.
* * *
It was only after loud protests that she herded Lucy and Stella into her car.
“We were having fun with Ethan,” Stella grumbled from the back seat.
Amber pulled out of ErmaJean’s neighborhood and onto Main Street. The windshield wipers went at breakneck speed in a vain attempt to keep pace with the hammering rain.
“I wish we could stay wif him fowever,” Lucy said.
Amber’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Something treacherously soft within her felt the same. Which wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.
“Gigi is out of her cast now.” She drove past the shuttered shops and darkened diner. “Which means it won’t be long before Ethan will go back to the beach where he really lives.”
Although he hadn’t said anything about his job or the beach in a long time. And she was hoping that maybe... Don’t be stupid, Amber.
She didn’t need a man. She could stand on her own two feet just fine. Once she graduated, got a job, saved some money and got a better place to live. She was so close to making her dreams come true.
They passed the welcome sign at the town limits. Truelove, Where True Love Awaits. Okay, perhaps not so close to making all her dreams come true.
“I love Ethan this much.”
Glancing in the mirror, Amber watched Stella open her hands.
Not to be outdone, Lucy flung her arms wide. “I wuv Efan dis much.”
Stella’s eyes narrowed. “I love Ethan the most, Lucy.”
“No.” Lucy’s lip protruded. “I wuv Efan de most, Stehwaa.”
The car rattled over the bridge spanning the river.
“Girls, stop arguing. You can both love Ethan the most.”
“Mommy?”
The ground on either side of the road was so saturated. With concern, she noted how high the creek had risen.