by Lisa Carter
“Mommy! Efan! Come quick!” Lucy shrieked.
Heart in her throat, Amber scrambled off the blanket. Jumping to his feet, Ethan raced ahead, charging over the incline of the hill.
“Lucy! Stella!” he yelled. “Where are you?”
Dashing after him through the meadow grass, Amber berated herself for losing sight of the twins. She wasn’t an adolescent girl anymore, crushing on her brother’s best friend. She was a mother with responsibilities. No time for foolish flights of fancy.
Amber came to an abrupt halt on the crest of the slope. Below on the riverbank, Ethan had reached the twins, who appeared unharmed. And she realized what had caused the excitement.
Stella waved her mother forward. “Boats, Mommy.” She pointed to the bright flotilla of watercrafts paddling downriver.
Relief mixing with chagrin, Amber picked her way toward the edge of the water. “Kayaks.”
“Dey’re so pwitty, Mommy.” Lucy bounced in her sneakers. “Dey’re f-whying acwoss the water.”
“I want to kayak, Mommy.” Stella pulled on her arm. “Can we go kayaking, Ethan?”
Scratching his head, he cut his eyes at her.
“I want de blue one.” Lucy gestured.
Stella scowled at her sister. “No, I want the blue one.”
“Girls,” Amber said. “No one is getting the blue one. The river is not for little kids.”
And then as if to completely belie her words, a canoe rounded the bend. A strawberry-blonde woman and a very handsome man maneuvered the craft between the water hazards. A small brown-haired boy about the twins’ age sat between them.
Lucy’s lips poked out. “He wooks wike he’s having fun.”
Stella planted her hands on her little hips. “You never let us have any fun, Mommy.”
A refrain she—and probably every other mother on the planet—had heard before. Mean old mom. Why does everybody else get to... Yada. Yada. Yada. The basic refrain, any time a mother kept her children from doing something they wanted.
She crossed her arms. “Not happening, girls.”
They groaned. And turned their wide-eyed appeal to Ethan.
“We could do it wif Efan,” Lucy said.
“Please, Mommy. Please...” Stella gave her puppy dog eyes. “Ethan would keep us safe.”
“Maybe the river’s in their blood,” he murmured. “The Fleming legacy.”
She glared at him. “That isn’t funny, Ethan. Stop being such a marshmallow. The girls are working you.”
Palms up, he laughed. “Can’t help it. I’m a sucker for big blue Fleming eyes.”
His lopsided grin sent a flutter down to her toes.
Leaning closer, his lips brushed her earlobe. “Always have been,” he whispered.
She blushed.
“Wook, Mommy!” Lucy pointed to a raft full of people barreling downstream. “I know him.”
Stella nodded. “He has the same name as us.”
The rafting guide was her father. In the fast, flowing current, the raft soon disappeared beyond the curve of the river.
She took hold of Lucy’s arm. “How do you know that man?”
Lucy tugged free. “He danced wif me.”
Amber angled to Ethan. “What’s she talking about?”
Suddenly, he seemed unable to meet her gaze.
“Mr. Fweming is a vewee nice man, Mommy.” Lucy smiled. “Do you know him, too?”
Amber’s jaw tightened. “Ethan...”
He blew out a breath. “It was no big deal. The night of the dance we were seven at a table of eight. Dwight took the last chair.”
“No big deal?” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Dwight regrets what happened, Amber.”
“You’ve had conversations with him about me?” Her voice rose.
“He only wanted to meet Lucy and Stella.” Ethan tugged the back of his neck. “Dwight’s lonely, Amber. He desperately wants to be close to you again. For you to be part of his life.”
“If he’s lonely, it’s his own fault. Why would you allow him access to my girls, Ethan? You know how I feel about him.” She threw out her hands. “After what he did...didn’t do...when I needed him the most.”
“Mommy...” Lucy’s face puckered.
“Did we do something wrong?” Stella’s chin wobbled. “Are we in trouble, Mommy?”
“No.” She wheeled toward the slope. “But Ethan is.”
“Amber.” He took hold of her arm. “Wait.”
“It’s time to leave, girls.” She jerked free. “I absolutely cannot believe you’d do this behind my back, Ethan. I trusted you to look out for them. To keep their best interests at heart.”
Lucy started to cry. Scowling, Stella scuffed the ground with the toe of her sneaker, sending a pebble ricocheting into the water.
“Don’t be mad wif Efan, Mommy,” Lucy sobbed. “We wuv him.”
“I always have their best interests at heart.” He jutted his jaw. “You’re being unreasonable. Your pride is misplaced. It’s you who’s lost sight of their best interests.”
She sucked in a breath. “How dare you! You waltz into our lives and think you have the right to tell me how to raise my children? What kind of friend are you?”
His gaze hardened. “I’m the kind of friend who’s willing to tell you the truth when you’re making a mistake. I’m the only friend you’ve not cowed into silence about this issue with your father.”
She lifted her chin. “I think it best if you take us home now.” She glowered at him.
“Whatever happened to forgiveness, Amber?” His mouth thinned. “What kind of example—”
She fisted her hands. “I can’t talk to you right now, Ethan. Take us home.”
What a fool she’d been to trust him. When would she learn she couldn’t trust men? She’d begun to believe he was different. But he was just like the rest. Like her father. Like Tony.
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Have it your way. I’ll get the basket and be at the truck.” He stalked up the hill, disappearing into the waving meadow grass.
She stared after him in disbelief. How had this sunny, picture-perfect day dissolved into bitter words? So out of control. She wasn’t the only hardheaded, unreasonable...
“Let’s go, girls,” she grunted.
Sniffling, Lucy headed up the embankment. Stella stomped after her sister. The drive to the trailer was accomplished in stony silence.
Amber hopped out. “Go to the house, girls.”
Ethan helped them unbuckle their seats.
Easing out of the truck, Lucy blinked away tears. “I want Efan...”
Tapping her foot on the ground, Amber fumed. How had she ended up the bad guy?
Stella’s mouth trembled. “When will we see Ethan again?”
“I don’t know. Go.” She pointed toward the trailer. “Now.”
Shoulders slumped, the girls moved toward the porch.
He wrapped his hands around the frame of the truck door. “Don’t punish my grandmother or the girls for my mistake. Or is it only me you plan to bar from their lives?”
Amber’s chest heaved. Truth was, she needed him if she was going to finish the semester. She was so sick of having to depend on others. Of being beholden.
“Car pool as usual,” she growled. “But otherwise, it would probably be better if we kept our distance.”
A muscle jerked in his cheek, and he stared into the space above her head. “Whatever you say. Your choice.”
“When has anything in the last five years been my choice?” She slammed the cab door shut. The truck rocked. “One wrong decision and nothing has ever been the same. Nothing has gone right for me.”
Ethan’s eyes glinted. “Is that so?” he said in a slow, gravelly
drawl.
Her conscience pricked. Ashamed of herself, heat crept up her face. It wasn’t true.
She had two healthy, wonderful children. The matchmakers and Callie had stood by her during this long season of finishing her degree. God had never forsaken her.
Cocking his head, he got behind the wheel. “Let me know when you’re over this little temper tantrum of yours, Amber.”
She stepped away as the truck reversed and rattled toward the road.
In truth, not merely one wrong choice. As for Ethan... Her lungs constricted. Had she just made another irreversible mistake?
* * *
Ethan didn’t feel up to facing Amber at church the next day. She’d made her feelings—or the lack thereof—only too clear.
As for his feelings?
In a fury of blinding dust, he took out his ire on the tallboy dresser instead. A movement at the door of the workshop snared his attention.
He cut the sander off. “Grandma?”
“My, my,” she tsk-tsked. “What did that dresser ever do to you?”
He clenched his jaw. “What’re you doing out here?”
“The therapist said it was good for me to exercise. To put weight on my leg again in order to regain my strength.”
“Walking around the house is one thing.” He frowned. “The ground is uneven between the driveway and the workshop. You could’ve fallen.”
“You stomped out of the kitchen this morning like a man on fire. What’s going on, Ethan?”
He set the sander onto the workbench with a clatter. “You know what’s going on.” After storming home yesterday afternoon, he’d filled his grandmother in on what had happened at the river.
“Maybe you should call Amber and apologize.”
His mouth fell open. “Apologize? She’s the one—”
“Amber isn’t the only one who has a problem in the pride department.” His grandmother cocked her hip. “Is that why you decided for us to skip church this morning?”
He flushed. He’d hared off to the workshop without considering that his truancy meant his grandmother would miss church, as well.
“I’m sorry, Grandma.” He removed his protective goggles. “I should’ve called Miss GeorgeAnne to come get you.”
“What really concerns me is what you plan to do about this disagreement with Amber. Things were going so well between you.”
He scowled. “Sorry to be the kink in your carefully laid matchmaker schemes, Grandma. As for plans? I’m sticking to the original plan.”
“Which is?”
“To get us out of Truelove as soon as I can.”
Grandma sighed. “I thought we had moved beyond that.”
So had he. He’d actually started thinking about the possibility of putting down permanent roots in Truelove. Rebuilding his grandfather’s business. Making a new life. Exploring new relationships. And then this business with Amber...
More fool he.
Women. First, Kelly. Now, Amber. They were all alike.
“Do you know what they call someone who keeps doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result?”
Her eyes sparked. “An optimist?”
“A chump.” His mouth flattened. “And I’m tired of dancing to someone else’s tune.”
“Seems to me dancing is what started this whole fiasco. Perhaps if I called Amber to explain...” His grandmother’s brow knotted. “I’m to blame for calling Dwight about the dance.”
He snorted. “She won’t listen. Her mind’s made up on the subject of Dwight and so’s mine.”
“The both of you need time to cool off. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“What I regret is ever letting you talk me into this...this arrangement in the first place.”
“Ethan.”
He widened his stance. “Three weeks until she graduates. With the cast coming off soon, only two weeks before you’re released from therapy. Better wrap your head around it, Grandma, and start saying your goodbyes. I can’t wait to leave this two-bit town in the dust for good.”
“It’s not like you to give up so easily, son. She’s been hurt, badly, by every man in her life. Her anger was a knee-jerk reaction. She’s working through a lot.”
“Aren’t we all?” He grimaced. “Face it. This deal has gone bust. Amber and I were never meant to be.”
“I don’t believe that’s true.” Turning to go, his grandmother threw him a final look. “What’s more, I don’t think you believe that, either. If you truly care about Amber as much as I suspect you always have, you won’t allow your injured male pride to stand in the way. You’ll get yourself over to Amber’s and work this out like the grown-ups both of you are supposed to be.”
* * *
“You overreacted, dear friend.” Slipping onto the stool, Callie folded her hands on the counter at the Mason Jar. “Again.”
It was Wednesday morning, and Amber had ample opportunity to regret her harsh words to Ethan. Not that she was ready to admit it out loud.
Amber narrowed her eyes at her best friend. “Don’t think it has escaped my notice that you were in on this conspiracy, too.”
Callie shook her head. “Do you hear yourself, Amber? There was no conspiracy. You’re making far more out of this than there ever was. Dwight sat with us at dinner. That’s it.”
“I’m trying to protect my children.”
“You’re trying to protect yourself.” Callie lifted her chin. “Things with Ethan were getting serious. And that scared you to death, so you did what you always do. You self-sabotage.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Sure it is. You’re just too stubborn to admit you’re on the brink of what may be the best thing that ever happened to you, save Lucy and Stella.”
Biting her lip, Amber stared out the window overlooking the town square.
“I’ve never seen you so happy, Amber. Not since...” Callie pressed her lips together.
Amber twisted the hem of her apron. This had been the happiest she’d been since maybe even before her mother died and her life had unraveled. Perhaps since Ethan left Truelove to join the Marines.
“I can’t bear to think of you throwing away this opportunity for happiness.” Reaching across the counter, Callie touched her hand. “Give this thing with Ethan another chance. Give yourself another chance. Y’all have been so good together with the girls.” Callie got off the stool. “At least pray about it. Please.”
Pray? She’d barely slept since Saturday. She’d been relieved when neither Ethan nor Miss ErmaJean had showed for church. But of all days, the reverend had chosen to preach on forgiveness. And she’d squirmed through the sermon. Amber was having a hard time getting the resounding truth of Reverend Bryant’s words out of her head.
“The person who is forgiven much, loves much,” the reverend had admonished his congregation. “What people don’t often stop to consider is the flip side of that Biblical truth. That to the one who forgives little, the same loves little.” The pastor opened his hands. “But how shameful if that should be said of us, dear brothers and sisters. For no matter what you or I have done, God in His mercy has forgiven each of us much. How, therefore, can we not do likewise with one another?”
In that moment, it felt as if God Himself had shone a spotlight on her tangled emotions.
“If God is willing to forgive your sins though they be as scarlet, why, dearest children, can you not forgive yourself?”
Her heart had pounded.
“And as long as that is the case...” Reverend Bryant’s hands had gripped the pulpit. “Then I fear you will also be a person who loves little. Forever unable to receive love, as well.”
The bell over the entrance jangled as Callie departed the café. With the diner almost deserted, Amber had too much time to consider the consequences of her ac
tions.
Had she overreacted?
Needing to escape her anxious thoughts, she decided to bus the corner booth. But scraping the dirty plates, inevitably her mind strayed to the last few excruciating days.
Tuesday evening after class, Ethan had met her at the door with the sleepy, pajama-clad twins. He didn’t look at her, much less speak to her. She got the impression he was as ticked off with her as she was with him.
Well, good riddance. She didn’t need him. She and the girls had been doing fine before he showed up.
That wasn’t true. None of them had been doing fine. Especially her.
Exams were starting next week. She rubbed her forehead. She didn’t need this added stress in her life. So much rested on the outcome of her scores. She had an interview for a job in a few days.
She’d come so far. She’d hoped, but never allowed herself to dream, this opportunity with Truelove’s new pediatrician might come her way. Though she knew what Ethan would have said to that. That she didn’t dream enough.
Working at the pediatric office would mean better hours, less travel, staying local and being more available for the girls. Please, God... Let me get this job.
But would God answer the prayers of someone like her who found it impossible to forgive others?
Amber threw the cloth into the bin. She missed Ethan. In fact, she ached to see his smile, and the light in his eyes when he said her name. The tenderness on his face when he held her children.
She knew her girls could be a handful. As a single parent, she’d struggled to balance love and discipline with her guilt. What man in his right mind would take on Lucy’s and Stella’s high spirits and boundless energy?
Ethan, that’s who.
She was such an idiot. A prideful, stupid, hardheaded, unreasonable idiot. And she was suddenly sorry, so very sorry—
The bell jangled. Her head snapped up. Uncertainty etched across his handsome face, Ethan stood at the door.
Chapter Eleven
Ethan had stayed away from Amber as long as he could stand it. Until he was overwhelmed by the need to see her. To be with her. To hear her voice.