by Helm, Nicole
“Just tomorrow. It’s almost bedtime.”
Dang it. She’d slept the day away. “Well, tomorrow then.”
Addie shrugged and Pen tried not to sigh at her daughter’s bad attitude. “I think I’ve laid around in bed enough. We’ll go downstairs and—”
“You’re supposed to rest. Sadie said so,” Brynn interrupted.
“I have a broken arm—not a broken leg. There’s plenty I can still do. And will.” Pen nudged Daisy from her side and got out of the bed. Her body ached a bit—her arm a lot. She hadn’t slept well, had kept accidentally rolling over on the uncomfortable cast.
But the thought of staying in bed… She shuddered. It would drive her insane. She had to be doing something.
The girls trailed after her as she strode out of her bedroom, but she stopped abruptly at the sight of Ethan walking down the hall.
“Oh. I…” She wasn’t used to Ethan being upstairs. The boys usually stayed on the first floor when they were at the house, unless one of them spent the night. Which was almost never Ethan. His apartment wasn’t so far away. He almost always went home.
Besides, no matter who spent the night, she always had warning. Always made up their beds and knew what to expect. She always…
Always wore a bra. Trying not to draw any attention to the move, Pen crossed her arm over her chest—the arm with the cast not quite cooperating, so she winced.
“Are you going to have the room next to ours?” Brynn asked, hopping in between Pen and Ethan.
“No, stupid. He gets the guest room,” Addie returned snottily.
“Don’t—” But the admonition to not call each other names was lost as Brynn and Addie faced each other like sparkly little brawlers.
“He’s not a guest,” Brynn replied, scowling at her big sister. “He’s living here now.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Wait,” Pen said, with her no-nonsense mom tone that had both of her girls actually quieting. She looked at Ethan, trying to understand what on earth was going on. “You’re doing what?”
“Temporarily. I’m just staying here temporarily.”
“Girls, go downstairs,” Pen ordered.
Addie and Daisy immediately headed for the stairs, but Brynn was arguing, asking questions, until Addie rolled her eyes and backtracked and took Brynn’s arm. “Come on.”
Pen heard her whisper stupid again, but Pen could only handle one problem at a time. She waited until she heard the girls clatter down the stairs.
“Before you say anything,” Ethan began calmly. “My lease expired.”
She gave him the same look she gave her girls when they tried to lie to her. “All of a sudden?”
He offered a sheepish expression. “No. But before you get bent out of shape and think this is all about you, I was going to do it anyway.”
“I don’t believe you. I never thought you’d lie to me, Ethan.” It hurt a little more than it maybe should. But she counted on Ethan to tell the truth. To be…good.
“It’s not a lie. My lease is up at the end of the year. I’m too old to keep living in that tiny apartment. Yeah, I’m moving out of the apartment a little earlier than I need to, but only because Sadie was talking about moving back in.”
“She can’t do that. She has a brand-new life to—”
“Exactly.”
She opened her mouth to keep arguing, but he’d boxed her into a corner there. Still, she didn’t need him underfoot. She didn’t need help. Mom had done it all on her own. This farm. Six kids, more or less, by the time she’d taken in Colt, Ethan and Bracken. All the while having a career. Pen didn’t even have one of those.
Mom had handled all of it without ever breaking a sweat and Pen was determined to be at least half as good as her mother. Which meant she didn’t need Ethan’s help.
“A broken arm isn’t the end of the world. I know I was upset last night, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”
“You will. And if you need any help, I’ll be right here.”
“I don’t need—”
“Who’s going to drag all the Christmas decorations up from downstairs? Who’s going to hang the lights outside? Sadie’s going to take over cooking—”
Panic squeezed at her lungs. “I don’t—”
“If Sadie has kitchen duty, Colt’s on goat duty. Your father can help with the shopping and wrapping, but there are some things you need me for.”
Need. That was a word she’d learned to hate at a very young age.
But this was Ethan. Needing him was temporary and he was just…Ethan. A steady presence. He’d always be there and he’d always be helpful.
It wasn’t need so much. More like…pitching in. He was pitching in and she would maybe need his help for a few things. Not everything. Not a lot of things. Just the extras. Just for a few weeks because of Christmas.
Besides, arguing with him was pointless. He might dress it all up in a smile and a quiet personality, but Ethan was stubborn. Better to thank him and do her best not to really need him.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to give up your privacy. But thank you.”
“I’ll muddle through. I still have a job I’ll be off doing more often than not. I’m not here to be your nanny. Just to help out with a few things.”
But he’d done this so Sadie and Colt wouldn’t feel obligated to give up their newfound home together. So she didn’t feel guilty about asking for help from Dad. Not for her, or needing, but because he was helping out the whole family.
She moved forward and used her good arm to give him a hug, before rising to her tiptoes to brush a kiss across his cheek. “Thank you.”
He was oddly…tense, but he smiled easily. “You’re welcome.”
There was something off about that juxtaposition—stiff body, bland expression. She’d always thought Ethan was a straightforward kind of guy, but the past few days made her wonder.
He nudged her to the side a bit. “Gotta drop this stuff off. Save me some dessert, huh?”
She watched him move past her down the hall. She’d never felt like she didn’t understand Ethan, but she very much felt that way now.
*
The one positive to staying at the Martin farm was there was always work to be done. Especially with Colt getting ready to add a head of cattle to his side of things, on top of the work he and Sadie were doing to expand the Martin side of things into a tourist destination. Which was added to their usual producing goat milk cheese the Martin family had been making for almost a century.
On his days off, Ethan could pour his time into moving his body instead of sitting in that house feeling…domestic. And thank God for workdays. He could spend the next two days in his uniform doing what he did best. Law and order and disconnection.
But he still had to get through the rest of today. Right now he got to pound fence posts into the cold ground. Which was much better than yesterday’s afternoon fumble through some princess coloring book with Daisy who looked up at him like he’d showered her with gold.
The way she looked at him made his chest feel crushed under the weight of a hundred rocks. Or maybe stampeded by a hundred head of cattle. Nothing good. Nothing good at all.
“You’re not really going to let your lease expire,” Colt said once they’d gotten through all the posts.
Ethan didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew how to deal with Colt. Don’t get defensive. “Why not?” he returned blandly.
“I mean, it’s obvious you’re doing this for Pen. You don’t have to go so far as to lose your apartment.”
“I’m almost thirty-two, Colt. Eventually it gets kind of depressing sleeping on a twin bed and not mowing your own lawn. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a little house that suits me. Something permanent. Isn’t it you who’s been telling me for years leasing is just throwing money down the drain?”
Colt studied him, but Ethan didn’t have any clue what he was looking for. “We done for the day or—”
“You co
uld build something here,” Colt said, his voice low and serious.
Which made Ethan’s heart pitch. “Say what?”
“Here. On the property. You don’t have to set up shop right next to the cabin or anything, but I’ve got land, and I know how to build. You could build a little place somewhere on it.”
“I…” He didn’t know what to say. He was pretty good at defusing a violent or tense situation, good at lying to people about just about everything. But this was simple. “It’s not just your land.”
Colt grinned. “Yeah, you don’t think Fritz has been hounding me about offering this for months now? I wanted the time to be right, and I didn’t want you to feel beholden. But if you seriously want a place of your own, it should be here. With us.”
“Colt.”
But Colt only shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s a thought. Give it some.” He slapped him on the back. “I think we’ll call it quits for the day. I’ve got milking to do, and Sadie asked me to ask you to keep Pen busy during dinner prep so she doesn’t drive Sadie insane with her suggestions.”
“Right.” Ethan couldn’t exactly explain why he felt rattled as they walked back to the barn, but he did. Shaken and on uneven footing.
Build a house here. He didn’t know how to say no, but the thought was… Well, it was a little too close to some of the things he’d promised himself a long time ago. Then again, so was buying a house, any house.
He wasn’t eighteen anymore. He’d learned a few things, and not every promise to himself still served.
But every quiet time in his life eventually ended with something he wouldn’t ever want to bring to Martin land. So, this particular thing wasn’t possible. He’d just have to find a way to explain that to Colt.
And Fritz, whose car ambled down the drive toward the house, the three girls waving wildly at Colt and Ethan through the back windows. Since Pen wasn’t allowed to drive, Fritz had taken over the school runs…and then usually took the girls out for ice cream or candy no matter how much Pen scolded.
The girls’ smiling faces and exuberant waves were a good reminder that some of those old promises were still imperative.
“Don’t forget. Save Sadie,” Colt offered as he took the turn to the barn and Ethan kept heading for the house.
Pen was standing on the back porch, greeting the girls as they bounded inside. She collected their backpacks with one hand, and though he was still out of earshot he could tell she was scolding Fritz about something.
He didn’t realize he was smiling until Pen caught sight of him and waved, smiling back.
She looked exhausted, and there was that pang. A wistfulness that things could be different.
But they weren’t. He wasn’t.
Still, when he reached the porch something in him lightened at the fact she’d waited for him.
“Sadie said you two were off building fences.”
“Starting to anyway. Long ways still to go.”
Pen nodded. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but then she just smiled brightly. “Well, I need to help Sadie with dinner.”
He was supposed to keep her occupied, but he knew nothing would work. Nothing except a problem to solve. “I need your advice,” he blurted with a wince.
Pen’s eyes went wide and she turned to face him. “You do?”
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, you, um, you give good advice.”
“I give excellent advice. Very few people around here solicit it.” She stared at him expectantly, but his mind was going conveniently blank. Which didn’t at all make sense for a man who was so good on his feet.
“Colt suggested I build a place here.”
Pen laughed and rolled her eyes as if it was all old news. She moved to the porch swing and patted the seat next to her.
Ethan sat. He didn’t want to talk about this with her since he already knew his answer, but it would keep her out of the kitchen. Sadie was really going to owe him.
“Oh, finally.”
“Finally?”
“Dad’s been blustering about parceling off land, birthrights and, most importantly, having everyone home.”
“I’ve always been home.”
“Last Stand isn’t home and you know it. It’s the farm or it’s nothing. Can you imagine if I’d moved back and bought a house in town? Dad would have had…” Pen wrinkled her nose. “Well, I’d rather not make heart attack parallels given the circumstances, but you know what I mean.”
“Sure, but I don’t really know what to do.” Now, how had the truth tumbled out? He knew what he had to do. There was only one option. But part of him ached for something he couldn’t have.
And aren’t you familiar with that situation?
“Really?”
“That’s surprising?”
“I guess I always thought you were the sort who knew their mind.”
“I always thought that about you too, until I heard your lists.”
Her cheeks went pink and her mouth parted in surprise. “My…”
“You talk in your sleep. Pretty much the whole way home from the hospital.”
She didn’t say anything to that. Just stared at him, her mouth still slightly parted. Giving him way too many moments to stare back. At the maze of brown and green in her hazel eyes. The strands of honey-blonde hair that wisped around her face.
She was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful.
Last spring he’d told Colt that Colt’s feelings for Sadie would fade away. That she’d find someone else. Colt’s response about maiming whoever she found had struck Ethan as funny.
He’d watched Pen fall in love with Henry, be his wife and the mother of his children, and there’d been a certain pain in that. But he’d always known it couldn’t be him, so he’d been happy for her too. Even with Henry gone, it didn’t change that.
So why did he want to touch her so badly?
“Well, anyway. Lists aside,” Pen said primly. “You should do it. You know you should. If you’re worried about Dad being even more meddlesome, that’s just silly. He always finds a way to meddle.”
“I’m not even sure what I’m worried about.” There. The lies were back where they should be.
“You’re family, Ethan. You should be here. Worries or not.” She gave his leg a quick pat and stood. “Now I need to help Sadie or she’ll do everything wrong.”
She got up and Ethan knew he should stop her, but Sadie was a grown woman. She could handle her own sister.
Ethan had to handle his very unfortunate physical reaction to a leg pat.
Chapter Four
Long after everyone had gone to bed, Pen sat in the big living room of the Martin house with her phone balanced in her lap. She painstakingly typed a list into her notes app of everything she needed to accomplish before Christmas.
She was very proud of herself because she was even delegating tasks. Tomorrow she would ask Colt or Ethan to haul the lights out of the basement. Dad was doing school runs, which meant she could ask him to help with the minor homework tasks as well. Since Sadie was doing breakfast these days, she could also pack the girls’ lunches when they didn’t want to buy.
Pen was totally and 100 percent okay with help. It wasn’t currently eating away at her insides like bitter acid. She wasn’t constantly remembering what her mother had said to her when she had told her she was dying.
Take care of everyone, baby.
Pen closed her eyes against the wave of pain, tears tripping over onto her cheeks. “I don’t know how right now, Mom. I just don’t.”
One of the stairs squeaked as if someone was sneaking downstairs. Pen quickly mopped up her face. She wouldn’t want one of the girls to be afraid over her crying, or worse be subjected to her father’s lame attempts to comfort her.
Whoever it was went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Then she heard the sound of a can being opened and remembered Ethan lived here now. Unless one of her daughters was sneaking a Coke, she suspected Ethan was sneaking a beer.
Not sneaking. He was old enough and it was perfectly within his right. It was just he’d left all the lights off and was tiptoeing around.
Amused at the idea she got to her feet and moved stealthily toward the kitchen. She pulled up her flashlight app and jumped into the kitchen.
“Busted,” she announced shining the light on him. He merely raised an eyebrow, didn’t even flinch at the light. She pouted. “You aren’t surprised.”
“I heard you coming a mile away.”
“Cops,” she muttered. “What are you doing up?”
“Turns out after almost fifteen years of sleeping in the same bed, I’m not so good at sleeping in a different one. What about you? Let me guess. Worries keeping you awake.”
“No,” she returned loftily. She tapped the screen of her phone. “Lists. The greatest weapon in the war against stress.” She looked at his beer and thought about what else was a great weapon against stress. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Open a bottle of wine for me. Then sit in the living room and drink with me so I don’t feel like a lush.”
He hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure,” he said.
She could have questioned the hesitation, or waved him away and said never mind because she was fine and dandy. But he was already moving to the liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of wine.
They worked together in the kitchen in relative silence. Ethan opening the bottle for her, Pen pouring her drink. Ethan grabbed a bag of potato chips out of the pantry and raised an eyebrow in silent question.
She nodded, and then they went to the living room and settled themselves on opposite sides of the couch. In silence.
It made Pen itchy.
“You know the first thing I did the first night I was back home? Drank a glass of wine. I hadn’t had alcohol in three years, because I got so paranoid if I even had a drink one of the girls would need me to drive them to the emergency room.”
“I can’t imagine,” Ethan returned sympathetically.
She shook her head, not sure why she’d brought that up when it made her sound unhinged. “Therapy helped with a lot…eventually.”
Ethan fidgeted on his side of the couch.