by Nora Roberts
‘‘You make it sound like you’ve been leading me by the nose, Grace. I don’t care for that.’’
‘‘I couldn’t lead you by the nose if I jabbed a fish hook in it. You go exactly where you want to go, Ethan, but you can be so infuriatingly slow. I love that about you, and I admire it, and now I understand it more. You had a terrible period in your life when you had no control, now you take care not to lose it. But you can slip from control into stubbornness in one short step, and that’s just what you’ve done.’’
‘‘I’m not being stubborn. I’m being right.’’
‘‘Right? It’s right for two people to love each other and not build a life out of it? It’s right to pay all your life for what someone else did to you when you were too young to defend yourself against it? Is it right for you to say you can’t and won’t marry me because you’re . . . stained and you made some ridiculous promise to yourself never to have a family of your own?’’
It sounded off when she said it like that. It sounded . . . stupid. ‘‘It’s the way it is.’’
‘‘Because you say so.’’
‘‘I told you how it is, Grace. I gave you the choice.’’
Her jaw hurt from clenching it. ‘‘People like to say they’ve given somebody a choice when what they’re really saying is ‘do this my way.’ I don’t like your way, Ethan. Your way only takes into account what was and doesn’t add what is, or what could be. You think I don’t know what you expected? You’d take your stand and sweet, delicate Grace would just fall in line.’’
‘‘I didn’t expect you to fall in line.’’
‘‘Then crawl off, wounded, and pine after you for the rest of my life. You’re getting neither. I’ll give you a choice this time, Ethan. You straighten yourself out, you go on and think things through for the next eon or two, then you let me know what conclusions you’ve come to. Because my stand is this. It’s marriage or it’s nothing. I’ll be damned if I’ll spend the rest of my life pining over you. I can live without you.’’ She tossed back her head. ‘‘Let’s see if you’re man enough to live without me.’’
She whirled around and stalked off, leaving him fuming.
‘‘ UPSTAIRS,’’ ANNA HISSED at Seth. ‘‘He’s coming inside. Now it’s my turn.’’
‘‘Are you going to yell at him, too?’’
‘‘Maybe.’’
‘‘I want to watch.’’
‘‘Not this time.’’ She all but shoved him out of the room. ‘‘Upstairs. I mean it.’’
‘‘Hell.’’ He stomped to the stairs, waited a moment, then slipped back down the hallway.
Anna was pouring herself a homey cup of coffee when Ethan slammed the back door. Part of her wanted to go over and give him a big, sympathetic hug. He looked so miserably unhappy and confused. But the way she figured it, there were times when it was best all around to kick a good man when he was down.
‘‘Want some?’’
He flicked a glance at her and kept walking. ‘‘No, thanks.’’
‘‘Hold it.’’ She smiled sweetly when he stopped, when she all but saw the jittery waves of impatience shimmering around him. ‘‘I need to talk to you for a minute.’’
‘‘I’m about talked out for the day.’’
‘‘That’s all right.’’ Deliberately she pulled a chair out from the table. ‘‘You sit down and I’ll talk.’’
Women, Ethan decided as he dropped into the chair, were the bane of his existence. ‘‘I guess I’ll take thecoffee, then.’’
‘‘All right.’’ She poured him a mug, brought him a spoon so he could dump his customary heaps of sugar into it. She sat, folded her hands neatly, and continued to smile.
‘‘You stupid jerk.’’
‘‘Oh, Jesus.’’ He rubbed his hands over his face, left them there. ‘‘Not another one.’’
‘‘I’m going to make it easy on you at first. I’ll ask a question, you answer. Are you in love with Grace?’’
‘‘Yes, but—’’
‘‘No qualifications.’’ Anna cut him off. ‘‘The answer is yes. Is Grace in love with you?’’
‘‘Hard to say just now.’’ He shifted his hand to nurse the point on his chest where she’d all but bored a hole in him.
‘‘The answer is yes,’’ Anna said coolly. ‘‘Are you both single, otherwise unattached adults?’’
He could feel himself sinking into a sulk, and detested it. ‘‘Yeah—so?’’
‘‘Just laying the groundwork, gathering the facts. Grace has a child, correct?’’
‘‘You know damn well—’’
‘‘Correct.’’ Anna lifted her cup, took a sip of coffee. ‘‘Do you have feelings of affection for Aubrey?’’
‘‘Of course I do. I love her. Who wouldn’t?’’
‘‘And does she have feelings of affection for you?’’
‘‘Sure. What—’’
‘‘Wonderful. We’ve established the emotions of the parties involved. Now let’s move on to stability. You have a profession, and a new business. You appear to be a man with skill, who’s willing to work and has the capability of earning a good living. Have you incurred any large, outstanding debts you believe you’ll have difficulty meeting?’’
‘‘For God’s sake!’’
‘‘No offense intended,’’ she said brightly. ‘‘I’m simply approaching this matter the way I assume you would, calmly, patiently, step by tedious step.’’
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘‘Seems to me people are having major problems with how I do things lately.’’
‘‘I love the way you do things.’’ She reached across the table and gave his tense hand an affectionate squeeze. ‘‘I love you, Ethan. It’s wonderful for me to have a big brother at this stage of my life.’’
He shifted in his chair. He was touched by the obvious sincerity in her eyes, but he had a feeling she wastenderizing him in preparation for the roasting to come. ‘‘I don’t know what’s going on around here.’’
‘‘I think you’ll figure it out. So, we’ll say you’re financially sound. Grace, as we know, is well capable of earning a living. You own your own home, and a one-third share in this one. Shelter certainly isn’t an issue. So, we’ll move on. Do you believe in the institution of marriage?’’
He knew a trick question when he heard one. ‘‘It works for some people. Doesn’t work for others.’’
‘‘No, no, do you believe in the institution itself? Yes or no.’’
‘‘Yes, but—’’
‘‘Then why the hell aren’t you down on one knee with a ring in your big, clumsy hand, begging the woman you love to give your fat head another chance?’’
‘‘I’m a patient man,’’ Ethan said slowly, ‘‘but I’m getting tired of insults.’’
‘‘Don’t you dare get out of that chair,’’ she warned when he started to scrape it back. ‘‘I swear I’ll belt you. God knows I want to.’’
‘‘That’s another thing that’s going around.’’ He subsided only because it seemed easier to get it all over with at once. ‘‘Go ahead then, say what you have to say.’’
‘‘You think I don’t understand. You think I can’t relate to what’s eating you up inside. You’re wrong. I was raped when I was ten years old.’’
Shock jolted his heart, pain squeezed his soul. ‘‘Jesus, Anna! Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’’
‘‘Now you do. Does it change me, Ethan? Aren’t I the same person I was thirty seconds ago?’’ She reached for his hand again, held it this time. ‘‘I know what it is to be helpless and terrified and want to die. And I know what it is to make something of your life, despite that. And I know what it is to have that horror in you always. No matter how much you’ve learned, no matter how much you’ve come to accept it and know it was never, ever your fault.’’
‘‘It’s not the same.’’
‘‘It’s never the same, not for any two people. We have something more in common as well. I never kn
ew who my father was. Was he a good man or a bad one? Tall or short? Did he love my mother, or did he use her? I don’t know what parts of him were passed to me.’’
‘‘But you knew your mother.’’
‘‘Yes, and she was wonderful. Beautiful. And yours wasn’t. She beat you, physically and emotionally. She made you a victim. Why are you letting her keep you one? Why are you letting her win even now?’’
‘‘It’s me now, Anna. There has to be something twisted, something sour inside a person to make them the way she was. I came from that.’’
‘‘Sins of the fathers, Ethan?’’
‘‘I’m not taking on her sins, I’m talking about heredity. You can pass on the color of your eyes, your build. Weak hearts, alcoholism, longevity. Those things can run in families.’’
‘‘You’ve given this a lot of thought.’’
‘‘Yeah, I have. I had to make a decision, and I made it.’’
‘‘So you decided you could never marry or have children.’’
‘‘It wouldn’t be fair.’’
‘‘Well, then, you’d better talk to Seth before too long.’’
‘‘Seth?’’
‘‘Someone has to tell him he’s never going to be able to have a wife and children. It’s best if he knows that early, so he can try to protect himself from becoming emotionally involved with a woman.’’
For a trio of heartbeats he could only gape at her. ‘‘What the hell are you talking about?’’
‘‘Heredity. We can’t be sure what bad traits Gloria DeLauter passed down to him. God knows she’s gotsomething twisted inside her, just as you said. A whore, a drunk, a junkie, from all accounts.’’
‘‘There’s nothing wrong with that boy.’’
‘‘What difference does that make?’’ She met Ethan’s furious stare blandly. ‘‘He shouldn’t be allowed to take chances.’’
‘‘You can’t mix him in with me this way.’’
‘‘I don’t see why. You both come from similar situations. In fact, there are far too many cases that come through social services nationally that slip into parallel categories. I wonder if we can pass a law to prevent children of abusers from marrying and having children of their own. Think of the risks we’d avoid.’’
‘‘Why don’t you just geld them?’’ he said viciously.
‘‘That’s an interesting concept.’’ She leaned forward. ‘‘Since you’re so determined not to pass on any unhealthy genes, Ethan, have you considered a vasectomy?’’
The instinctive and purely male cringe nearly made her laugh. ‘‘That’s enough, Anna.’’
‘‘Is that what you would recommend to Seth?’’
‘‘I said that’s enough.’’
‘‘Oh, it’s more than enough,’’ she agreed. ‘‘But answer this last question. Do you think that bright, troubled child should be denied a full and normal life as an adult because he had the bad luck to be conceived by a heartless, perhaps even evil woman?’’
‘‘No.’’ His breath shuddered out. ‘‘No, that’s not what I think.’’
‘‘No buts this time? No qualifications? Then I’ll tell you that in my professional opinion, I couldn’t agree with you more. He deserves everything he can grab, everything he can make, and everything we can give him to show him that he’s his own person and not the damaged product of one vile woman. And neither are you, Ethan, anything but your own man. Stupid, maybe,’’ she said with a smile as she rose. ‘‘But admirable, honorable, and incredibly kind.’’
She went to him, put an arm around his shoulders. When he sighed, turned his face to press it against her midriff, tears stung her eyes.
‘‘I don’t know what to do.’’
‘‘Yes, you do,’’ she murmured. ‘‘Being you, you’ll have to think about it for a while. But do yourself a favor this time, and think fast.’’
‘‘I guess I’ll go down to the boatyard and work until I get it clear in my head.’’
Because she was feeling suddenly maternal toward him, she bent and kissed the top of his head. ‘‘Do you want me to pack you some food?’’
‘‘No.’’ He gave her a squeeze before he rose. When he saw that her eyes were damp, he patted her shoulder. ‘‘Don’t cry. Cam’ll have my head if he finds out I made you cry.’’
‘‘I won’t.’’
‘‘Well, then.’’ He started out, hesitated, then turned back briefly to study her as she stood in the kitchen, her lashes wet, her hair tangled from being out in the breeze. ‘‘Anna, my mother—my real mother,’’ he added, because Stella Quinn was in his mind all that was real—‘‘would have loved you.’’
Hell, Anna thought as he walked away, she was going to cry after all.
Ethan kept going, particularly when he heard Anna’s sniffle. He needed to be alone, to clear out his head and let the thoughts gather again.
‘‘Hey.’’
With his hand on the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw Seth on the stairs—where the boy had dashed like a skillful rabbit seconds before Ethan had started out of the kitchen.
‘‘Hey what?’’
Seth started down, slowly. He’d heard everything, every word. Even when his stomach had begun to pitch, he had stayed and listened. As he studied Ethan now, owlishly, he thought he understood. And he felt safe.
‘‘Where you going?’’
‘‘Back to the boatyard. I got some things I want to finish up.’’ Ethan let the door ease closed again. There was something in the boy’s eyes, he thought. ‘‘You okay?’’
‘‘Yeah. Can I go out on the workboat with you tomorrow?’’
‘‘If you want.’’
‘‘If I went with you, we’d finish sooner and be able to work on the boat with Cam. When Phil comes down on the weekend, we can all work on her together.’’
‘‘That’s how it goes,’’ Ethan said, puzzled.
‘‘Yeah. That’s how it goes.’’ All of them, Seth thought with a flash of pure joy, together. ‘‘It’s hard work because it’s hot as a bitch in heat.’’
Ethan bit back a chuckle. ‘‘Watch the mouth. Anna’s in the kitchen.’’
Seth shrugged, but aimed a wary glance behind him. ‘‘She’s cool.’’
‘‘Yeah.’’ Ethan’s smile spread. ‘‘She’s cool. Don’t stay up half the night drawing or bugging your eyes out at the TV if you’re working with me in the morning.’’
‘‘Yeah, yeah.’’ Seth waited until Ethan was outside, then snatched up the bag sitting beside the chair. ‘‘Hey!’’
‘‘Christ, boy, are you going to let me out of here before tomorrow?’’
‘‘Grace forgot her purse.’’ Seth pushed it into Ethan’s hand and kept his face bland and innocent. ‘‘I guess she had something on her mind when she left.’’
‘‘I guess.’’ Brows knit, Ethan stared down at it. Damn thing weighed ten pounds if it weighed an ounce, he thought.
‘‘You ought to take it over to her. Women go nuts if they don’t have their purses. See you.’’
He raced back inside, pounded up the stairs and straight to the first window that faced the front of the house. From there he could watch Ethan scratch his head, shove the purse under his arm like a football, and walk slowly to the truck.
His brothers sure could be weird, he thought. Then he grinned to himself. His brothers. Letting out a whoop, he raced down the steps to head for the kitchen and nag Anna for something to eat.
TWENTY
GRACE INTENDED TO cool off and calm down before she stopped by her parents’ house to pick up Aubrey. When she was this emotionally churned up, there was no hiding it from anyone, much less from a mother or a very perceptive child.
The last thing she wanted was questions. The last thing she felt capable of giving was explanations.
She’d said what needed to be said and done what needed to be done. And she refused to feel sorry for it. If it meant losing a long-standing friendship, one that she had always tr
easured, it couldn’t be helped. Somehow she and Ethan would manage to be adult enough to be polite when in public and not to drag anyone else into their battles.
It certainly wouldn’t be an easy or happy situation, but it could work. The same arrangement had worked for three years with her father, hadn’t it?
She drove around for twenty minutes, until her fingers were no longed gripping the wheel like a vise and the reflection of her face in the rearview mirror was no longer capable of frightening children and small dogs.
She assured herself that she was now perfectly under control. So under control that she thought she’d take Aubrey out to McDonald’s for a treat. And on her very next evening off, she was taking them both to Oxford for the Firemen’s Carnival. She certainly wasn’t going to stay around the house moping.
She didn’t slam the door of her car, which she felt was an excellent sign of her now placid mood. Nor did she stomp up the steps of her parents’ tidy Colonial. She even paused for a moment to admire the pale-purple petunias spilling out of a hanging planter near the picture window.
It was just bad luck and bad timing that her gaze shifted a few inches past the blooms and that she spotted her father through that picture window, lounging in his recliner like a king on his throne.
Temper geysered and blasted her through the door like a sharp-edged pebble from a well-aimed slingshot.
‘‘I have a few things to say to you.’’ She let the door slam at her back and marched up to where Pete rested his feet. ‘‘I’ve been saving them up.’’
He goggled at her for the five seconds it took for him to arrange his face. ‘‘If you want to speak to me, you’ll do it in a civilized tone of voice.’’
‘‘I’m through being civilized. I’ve had civilized up to here.’’ She made a sharp slashing motion with her hand.
‘‘Grace! Grace!’’ Cheeks flushed, eyes huge, Carol hustled in from the kitchen with Aubrey on her hip. ‘‘What’s gotten into you? You’ll upset the baby.’’
‘‘Take Aubrey back to the kitchen, Mama. And it won’t traumatize her for life to hear her mother raise her voice.’’
As if to prove arguments were inevitable, Aubrey threw back her head and sent up a wail. Grace stifled the urge to grab her, run out of the house with her, and smother her face with kisses until the tears stopped. Instead she stood firm. ‘‘Aubrey, stop that now. I’m not mad at you. You go on in the kitchen with Grandma and have some juice.’’