Child Wanted

by Renee Andrews

  Lindy bit the inside of her lower lip to keep from giving too much away. She hated to think of Jerry so sad. She’d seen him start to come out of his shell on Wednesday, too, had felt very hopeful that he was progressing so quickly, but now she suspected that he’d done that before. And then he’d gotten very sad again.

  “And I haven’t been able to figure out how to break through that wall when it happens, when he looks so sad and withdrawn,” Ethan continued. “Maybe you could help me with that.”

  “You want me to help you...with Jerry.” The thought sounded absurd. Why would she help him get closer to her son? But Ethan had the opportunity to see Jerry more often than she did, and because of that, he also had the opportunity to help Jerry deal with his sadness.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I can tell he’s getting better, talking to me some, which is what Candace said he would do. That’s how he normally handles the changes in his life when he gets moved from one place to another. She said he shuts down at first, but then opens up to his new family, and then he has periods of sadness. Those phases are the reason the last family didn’t keep him.”

  Lindy didn’t want to think about how many times her little boy had been uprooted, particularly this last time, when a family had said they would give him a forever home...and then changed their mind. He’d had no stability at all. She swallowed, recalling the last moment she’d held him—but an even stronger memory was the moment the officer had pulled her screaming baby from her arms.

  “But I want him to trust me, to know I’m never going to let him down,” Ethan said. “So I’ve got to figure out how to show him, because simply telling him isn’t going to cut it.”

  Those chocolate eyes connected with hers, and she could see how sincere he was, how much he already cared about her son. And she suspected Jerry had started caring about him, too, after seeing the two of them interact on Wednesday. So she had to help him out. Because she couldn’t let her son be disappointed again.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You can’t simply tell a little boy something and expect him to believe it at face value. He needs to see how much you care.”

  “I know. So...how do I make that happen?”

  She’d made her decision. No way would she let Jerry be hurt again if she could help it, and for now that meant helping Ethan Green grow even closer to her son. “To start with, you don’t break any promises. So on Monday, you make certain he catches a fish. Which means today...we practice.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” His smile lit up his face, and she found herself swaying a little on the way into the cottage. Then mentally slapping herself back to reality once she got inside.

  This man might very well take her son away for good.

  * * *

  Ethan carried the Styrofoam minnow bucket in one hand and their fishing rods in the other as he and Lindy walked toward the pond. He hadn’t intended to ask her to help him fish, hadn’t intended to spend any more one-on-one time with the attractive lady with the troubled past. In fact, he’d promised himself on the drive over to get the minnows and head to the pond with as little interaction as possible with the woman who caused him to feel the same way he’d felt when he met Jenny.

  She’d sat beside him in that very first class on the first day of college. Then they’d laughed when they’d shown up at the next class together...and the next. Their schedules had been identical, as if they’d planned it, and they’d bonded, quickly becoming friends. Then study partners. But they never crossed the boundary into anything more, because the situation had been so perfect. They shared classes, they shared college majors and they were too “alike” to date. But their main difference had been family; she’d had amazing parents, the kind Ethan had only dreamed of. And he’d shared his past with Jenny—how badly the abuse had hurt him, not only physically but emotionally, when he went the remainder of his childhood without experiencing familial love.

  Maybe that was why he’d wanted so desperately to comfort her after her parents died suddenly. When she’d heard about the car crash, she’d come to Ethan. And he’d held her when she’d cried. Gotten closer to her as she went through such a difficult time. And over the months that followed, they’d become inseparable.

  And they’d fallen in love.

  Odd, that a tragedy had brought him closer to anyone than he’d ever been. But it had. And then Jenny had found what she deemed “true love” with Ethan’s best friend.

  No way could he let himself feel that way again, like he could fall for a woman in a “madly, deeply, forever and ever, till death do us part” way.

  It was there, the possibility, hovering in the near distance each time he was around Lindy Burnett. Which was exactly why he’d planned to get the bait and head to the pond.

  But then he’d seen her, merely watering flowers on the deck, her long strawberry curls moving in the breeze, her inquisitive face concentrating on him as he neared. Blue eyes squinting a little in the sun. Faint freckles accenting high cheekbones. And a mouth that he wanted to see smile. She looked absolutely perfect...except for the fact that the lower half of her dress was drenched. It made her look human. Vulnerable. Approachable.

  And he found himself incapable of getting his bait and walking away. He wanted to spend time with her again. Felt like he simply had to. So he’d pretty much manipulated her into fishing with him this afternoon. It wasn’t one of his finest moments. But he couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to it.

  They walked in comfortable silence toward the pond as if they did this all the time. And Ethan noted how simple this felt, how natural and...right. Spending an afternoon at this dazzling pond with a woman whom, regardless of his earnest attempts, he hadn’t been able to get off his mind.

  He heard chatter and looked away from Lindy to see the father-son duo heading out with their gear.

  “Y’all going to give it a go?” the man asked.

  “We are,” Ethan said, lifting the rods and minnow bucket as he spoke. “How did y’all do?”

  “We caught thirteen!” the little boy, who looked a little older than Jerry, said excitedly. “And guess what happened when I unhooked the last one?”

  His father had already started shaking his head. “Jordan, you don’t need to tell them everything.”

  “He peed! I’ve never seen a fish do that before, have you?”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Ethan said, and he heard Lindy’s smothered laugh from beside him, while the man continued to shake his head.

  “Boys will be boys,” he said, but his easy smile and the way he ran a hand across the little guy’s blond curls said he was loving spending the day with his son.

  Ethan instantly pictured himself with Jerry one day, sharing funny, quirky conversations like this. “Yes,” he said. “Boys will be boys.”

  Lindy’s soft laughter halted, and Ethan glanced her way to see concern, or sadness, or a combination of the two etched on her features before she looked away from all of them.

  But he hadn’t misinterpreted that look.

  What had just happened?

  “We’re heading home, Miss Lindy,” the man continued, apparently unaware of the sudden change in her disposition. “Do you want me to put our rentals on the front porch?”

  She turned to face them again, and Ethan noted her eyes glistening. “Yes,” she said, seemingly gathering her composure. “That’s fine.”

  The pair walked away, and Ethan and Lindy resumed their pace, but now their silence was anything but comfortable. And after a moment that seemed as thick as the sorghum syrup the Tingles served him at breakfast this morning, Ethan said, “I’m sure it didn’t hurt the fish.”

  Her expression faltered. “Wh-what?”

  “It seemed like what Jordan said about the fish bothered you.” But even as he made the statement, Ethan recalled hearing her l
augh at the kid’s exclamation. So if that wasn’t it, then what had upset her?

  Her grip tightened around the quilt she clutched against her chest. “That didn’t bother me. I just...have a lot on my mind.”

  She’d made similar statements several times since they’d met. Ethan felt fairly certain that whatever was on her mind all the time had something to do with the past that had put her in a new town with no home, no job...and no family.

  “Maybe some fishing will help you relax,” he said.

  She released her grip on the quilt and glanced out over the water sparkling in the afternoon sun. “I’m thinking if any place could help a person relax, this would be it.”

  “I’d have to agree,” he said, glad that she seemed to be loosening up around the fishing hole. And around him. “What do you say we put the quilt down there?” He pointed toward the first big willow, its branches cascading so much that a few tips of the limbs dipped into the water with the breeze. “Based on what you said the other day about the fish liking the shade, that’s where they’re hiding, right?”

  “Yes, they should be.” She spread the quilt out beneath the willow. “But they will also hide in places that are out in full sun if it’s tempting enough.”

  “Like where?” he asked.

  “Like in a Christmas tree that’s been submerged in the water.” She tilted her head toward the pond. “Mr. and Mrs. Bowers have put a few out there, so that the fish aren’t always at the bank, just in case some folks want to fish from one of the aluminum boats.”

  “Christmas trees? Seriously?” He scanned the water and wondered how many were hiding beneath the surface.

  “Yes. You can put them in the water after Christmas, and it gives the fish a home. And if you mark the tree, like with a fishing bobber floating slightly beneath the surface, then you can find a good fishing spot throughout the year. That’s the way Mr. and Mrs. Bowers mark theirs.”

  “That’s amazing,” he said, mesmerized as he watched her straighten the quilt. She moved around its perimeter, smoothing out the edges, her coral-tipped fingernails running along the border until the green, yellow and blue star-shaped design was perfectly centered.

  She sat on the right side of that star but continued running her hand along the fabric as though enjoying the feel of the texture against her palm. “My grandmother and I would mark our spot with bobbers painted pink.”

  “You said she taught you how to fish, but it sounds like you fished a lot as a kid,” he said, enjoying this glimpse into her youth. He wanted to know more, much more, about this interesting lady.

  “We didn’t have a lot of extra money growing up, so we would fish, and we’d eat whatever we caught for dinner,” she said. “The best was crappie, and it’s still my favorite. It’s a white freshwater fish. Tastes like tilapia, if you like that.”

  “I do.” He placed the minnow bucket and fishing rods beside the quilt, since he didn’t want to accidentally spill any of the bait water on the fabric. Especially after Lindy had taken so much care with it.

  In fact, she seemed to take particular care with everything. And she apparently enjoyed pretty, feminine things, like the dress she wore today, which was an interesting choice for spending the day working at a fishing hole and selling live bait. But it suited her, the Caribbean-blue fabric drawing attention to those vivid eyes. She’d paired the dress with sandals accented with tiny stones in beach hues of sea green, turquoise and coral. And her toenails were painted the same color as her fingernails.

  “Ethan?” she asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re...staring.”

  Caught. He had no choice but to agree. But how was a guy supposed to be this close to her without staring? “Guilty as charged.”

  She seemed surprised by his admission, her eyes widening a little and her cheeks tingeing pink before her slender throat pulsed as she swallowed. “Why?”

  “Why am I staring?”

  She glanced down, her lashes fanning across her cheeks before she looked back up at him. “Yes, why?”

  Because you’re beautiful. Because you captivate me the way no woman has in a very long time. Because I’ve seen you with the little boy who’s going to be mine, and I can tell how much you care about him. And because someone has hurt you, and I hate the thought of you being hurt. I don’t want to think about you being hurt...ever.

  “Because,” he said, “I wouldn’t think a woman would wear a dress to work at a fishing hole.”

  It was the truth, but it sure wasn’t why he’d been staring.

  “I wasn’t able to wear dresses in p—” She paused, moistened her lips and then continued, “In my last position. And I got my first paycheck from Mr. and Mrs. Bowers yesterday, so I celebrated a little and bought this outfit from the consignment store in the square.” She undid the tiny straps on her sandals, slipped them off and placed them beside her on the quilt. Then she looked at Ethan and added, “I probably didn’t need to buy the shoes or the matching nail polish, but they were really good deals, and it’s been a while since I got to shop for clothes.”

  Ethan didn’t know why she felt the need to explain the purchase, but her questioning gaze made him want to reassure the fascinating lady. “I think it was a good purchase.”

  She looked down once more, then glanced up again, and he wished he could tell what was going on in her mind. “Thank you,” she finally whispered. Then she cleared her throat. “We should probably get to fishing if you want to get some practice in before y’all come on Monday.”

  “Right,” he said, following her lead and slipping off his shoes. It had felt good sitting out in the open fishing with Jerry on Wednesday, but here, sitting on the quilt under the willow tree with Lindy, their shoes off, it felt...nearly perfect.

  Now, if they could just catch a fish.

  He placed a minnow on the end of her hook and then handed her the fishing rod. “Ready to show me how this is done?”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said, sliding the bobber up a little on her line before dropping the baited hook into the water. “But we’ll see.”

  She sounded like she was enjoying herself, and Ethan was glad he was able to have some small part in that. Then, as he dropped his own bait in the water, her cork went beneath the surface.

  “I got a bite!” She pulled up the line to display a shiny speckled fish on the end—at the same moment that Ethan’s cork also headed south. “And you do, too. Pull it up!”

  He yanked it up to see a similar, but smaller, fish on the end of his line. Laughing, he turned the pole so that their fishes dangled side by side. “We did it, didn’t we?” The sense of accomplishment that welled through him at the sight of that tiny fish was ridiculous, but even so, indisputable. He’d actually caught a fish.

  “Yes, we did,” she said, and released the smile he’d waited to see. It reached her cheeks and, as he suspected, made her even more breathtaking.

  It took him a moment to remember that this wasn’t a date, or any type of romantic venture, because for the briefest second, he felt like pulling her close, hugging her, laughing with her, celebrating their catches...and kissing her.

  Apparently, his thoughts had betrayed him, or maybe his attention had drifted to her mouth, because she ran her teeth over her lower lip and whispered, “Ethan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We should probably...” She let the sentence hang.

  He didn’t know why she stopped, but he had to know the rest. “We should probably what, Lindy?”

  She pulled her gaze away from him and turned her attention to the fish at the end of the line. “We should probably put the fish back in the water.”

  Chapter Seven

  He’d wanted to kiss her.

  Lindy had no doubt that he’d at least thought about it a moment ago. It’d be
en a long, long time since she’d experienced that feeling, the sensation of knowing a man wanted to kiss her, but she recognized it at once. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d wanted to be kissed. By Ethan Green. The man whose primary goal was to take her son. She couldn’t share anything remotely intimate with this man. He was the enemy.

  However, as he baited her hook again and looked at her with those warm, chocolate eyes, a hint of a smile from their success still teasing the corners of his lips, she was finding it harder and harder to remember that fact.

  Within another couple of minutes, her bobber went under, its red and white colors turning yellowish as it sunk beneath the wet surface. She pulled up the shimmering fish as Ethan’s float jiggled with a nibble and then plummeted, as well.

  She didn’t wait for him to take her bream off the line, but removed it herself and gently tossed it back into the water.

  Ethan unhooked his and did the same, his smile broadening with each passing moment. “Gotta admit, I’ve never really had a desire to fish, but this is pretty cool.” He reached for the end of her line and put another minnow on without her asking.

  The impulse to tell him she didn’t need help was overshadowed by the need to express appreciation toward a guy who assisted a woman without being asked. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Thank you for helping me out today. I’m feeling a lot more optimistic about keeping my promise to Jerry now.”

  Lindy kept her focus on the red-and-white floater in the water, because she didn’t want to look at him when she asked what she most wanted to know. She feared he’d see too much in her face. So she waited until they’d settled in peacefully to watch their corks in the water and let a little time pass.

  After a few moments, and attempting to sound casual, she asked, “Why did you pick him? Why did you pick Jerry to adopt instead of another kid?”

  Her hands tightened around the rod as she held her breath and waited to see what he’d say.