by Helm, Nicole
She laughed, couldn’t help it. Oh, she knew he was serious, but that didn’t make it true. Slowly, she got to her feet. “Maybe you’re a good liar after all, Ethan. I wish I could believe it, but no matter what you say I know you well enough. If you weren’t interested, you could have told me that without bolting last night. I, in fact, have no doubt you would have done everything in your power to let me down gently. So gently I would hardly have known you’d done it.”
His expression scrunched together into confusion. “You surprised me.”
“Oh, please.”
“Listen. You’ve had a rough go these past few months…years. It’s been hard and—”
“Oh. Gee. Thanks for pointing it out. Is this where you tell me my personal tragedy made me too stupid to know what I’m doing? Because that’s beneath you.”
“You shouldn’t—”
She didn’t want to get angry about this, but he was making it difficult. “You shouldn’t tell me what to do. I’m not asking about me, Ethan. I know what I feel. Maybe you think less of me because I haven’t been keeping it all locked down lately, but—”
“That isn’t what I said,” he snapped sharply. So sharply she did in fact stop talking. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I will not tolerate that.”
She believed him. On that, she believed him. He held himself tense, but he didn’t walk away. Not yet. So, she continued.
“I know that if you weren’t interested you would let me down gently. Not act like a wounded bird.”
“I thought I was an abused puppy.”
“Both work.” Maybe on more than one level. She should be easier on him. She shouldn’t push him when he had his own things to work out.
But wasn’t pushing what fixed things?
“I’m just looking for an answer, Ethan. A real, truthful answer about why you ran away.”
“I told you, I’m not interested.”
“A lie is not an answer.” She held his gaze for a moment more and then decided when it came to that stubborn expression on his face, retreat was the best course of action.
For today.
She swept by him. “You just let me know when you’re ready to give me the truth. I can wait.”
She stepped inside, grinning when she heard him swearing under his breath.
*
Ethan ate breakfast at the Martin table the next morning out of sheer stubbornness. He was going to handle Pen. Mostly because if he didn’t she’d just keep thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.
Pen acted like she always did. Well, maybe not always. She was a little…louder. More determinedly cheerful. A little bit like she was being jovial at him.
Let her be. He had no plans to give her a truthful answer to her pointless question. Eventually she’d believe he really wasn’t interested.
Hopefully.
He glanced across the table. Brynn had already eaten and ran out to the goat barn with Fritz and Sadie, and Addie hadn’t shown up yet. But Daisy sat there, watching him solemnly while she ate her cereal.
No, she wasn’t watching him. She was staring at the badge-shaped patch on his chest.
Which made him feel like a tool. He tried not to be in uniform too much around the girls, though in the past six months he had been on occasion. They’d never really acted like they’d noticed or cared before, but he should have thought this through. He’d just been thinking if Pen pressed, he could leave for work immediately.
He should have thought about the girls. Eating a meal in his uniform would feel different to them than just stopping by in it. It would feel domestic and be a reminder of…everything bad that had happened in their lives.
“You done, sweet pea?” Pen asked into the quiet.
Daisy nodded and handed her bowl to Pen. Pen turned back to doing the dishes. She’d already had an argument with Sadie about doing them, but Pen argued loading the dishwasher one-handed was hardly a challenge.
She made it look easy, he’d give her that. He pushed his chair back, ready to stand and leave before Daisy darted off and left him and Pen alone in the kitchen. Before he could feel worse about trying to prove a point to Pen and ending up hurting Daisy.
But Daisy walked right over to him before he stood. After one solemn look she crawled up onto his leg and situated herself there. She reached out and traced the patch on his arm, then the one on his chest.
He brushed his hand over the top of her head, heart about cracking in two. Then he settled his arm around her to keep her balanced on his leg. “Does it bother you?” he asked softly.
“Daddy used to wear one like that,” she said, as if working through some great problem.
But there was no problem here. No more uniform in the house. He could change at work, or even at his apartment. He still had a key through December. “I know, sweetheart. Listen, if it bothers you I won’t wear it inside the—”
“I like it,” she said resolutely. She looked up at him, and this close he could see all the differences between Pen and her youngest. Her hair was a few shades lighter than Pen’s, though it would likely darken as she got older. Her face was rounder, another thing that might change. So much future change.
She’d get older. Grow up and life would be cruel and that just didn’t seem fair.
He was pulled out of that reverie by Daisy sliding off his leg. He sat there for he wasn’t sure how long, Daisy still staring at him, and him feeling like there was some great weight on his chest.
Finally, he cleared his throat and stood. “I need to get going to work.”
Daisy nodded thoughtfully. Then she motioned him to bend down with one finger. For a second he could picture her as an adult doing that to some boy he’d have to dismember. Piece by piece. Enthusiastically.
He bent over as she bade. She gave him a prim kiss on the cheek. Then she smiled and skipped out the door, presumably to find Brynn and Fritz with the goats.
Ethan had to hold on to the back of the chair to keep from keeling over. “Your kids are killing me,” he managed to croak.
When he looked up at Pen, she was smiling. “I’d feel bad, but I’m enjoying it too much.”
Some of that awful pressure Daisy had left him with eased. “My pain amuses you?”
“Sort of. You’re not really in pain, Ethan. You like it.” She slid a dish into the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “You’re just afraid to like it.”
Somehow those words were worse than Daisy being so sweet to him. Because they felt a little too close to the truth. How much he liked all of this.
Which was a painful realization. One he didn’t want, because it made his life harder and he’d worked for years to make his life easy. Simple.
“Maybe I don’t want to be runner-up to your dead husband and their dead father.”
Pain had always made him mean. It was why he avoided it best he could. He didn’t like that black wave of guilt after being mean. Didn’t like the ways it reminded him of his father.
Pen didn’t wilt or even look hurt. She smiled. “Took you all night to come up with that one, huh?” She shook her head. “I don’t think you really think that, but to be clear, when I look at you in uniform I don’t see Henry. I see you. I didn’t look at Henry in his uniform and see you. Or my mother. All three of you were a type, that’s for sure, but you’re hardly the same three people.”
Ethan didn’t have the words, because all that seemed to bubble up inside of him was an apology. He wasn’t going to apologize to her. Not while she was pushing at him this way. Making things painful this way.
“I loved my husband, you know that. I also have three daughters I love. Two sisters. One doesn’t replace the other, or get some bigger piece of all that love.”
“You don’t love me.”
“Of course I do. I love all three of you boys. But what I feel for Colt and Bracken is different, has always been different, than what I felt for you. Maybe it’s romantic love. Maybe it isn’t. But both of us would have to be brave enough to figure that out.
”
“No.” God, no. It wasn’t a question of bravery. It was a question of sanity. Of keeping things the way they were, where no one got hurt. No one felt too much and had it blow up in their face.
He shook his head. Because bigger than that emotional mess, there was the far more important thing. He had to protect her and the girls. From everything a larger connection to him would bring.
That was what he had to remember. His father was what he was scared of…not hurt and emotions. Those were best left alone.
She closed the dishwasher door with a flourish, and though irritation snapped in her expression, her voice was mild. “Then you’ll have to think up a new excuse I guess.”
Much like last night, she sailed out of the room leaving him…lost. And alone.
Chapter Nine
Pen was determined to enjoy the annual tree lighting in front of the library in Last Stand. Sure, it was cold. And yes, too many people were bustled together. But they were people she knew, people she’d grown up with. People who’d brought casseroles after Mom had died, who’d sent cards after Henry.
Her daughters’ teachers, and the business owners and committee members who kept things like this tree lighting going, year after year.
She really was happy to be home. It hadn’t happened overnight, no matter what she’d told herself. There’d been a relief at moving back to Last Stand, but she’d spent her entire adult life in San Antonio. No matter how she’d kept herself busy these past few months trying to take care of everyone and make sure everything was just so, she hadn’t felt right and settled.
It probably had a lot to do with the Mom stuff she was still working through, and maybe even to a certain extent Henry stuff. She’d moved on best she could, accepted he was gone, but leaving the house they’d made together was another step in that.
She’d convinced herself she was healed and refused to acknowledge that her choice to move home hadn’t been 100 percent perfect and happy making.
Because life was a heck of a lot more complicated than she wanted to admit. But the more she admitted it to herself, the happier she felt.
The big tree suddenly glowed with light. Daisy’s squeal made Pen smile, and even Addie clapped with the crowd.
Yes, she was happy to be home in Last Stand. Happy to be surrounded by her family.
Daisy tapped her on the shoulder. Daisy didn’t say anything, just pointed to Ethan in the distance.
“Ethan’s working, sweet pea. We’ll go say hi in a little bit.”
Addie stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the crowd. “We should buy him a cookie or some hot chocolate. It’s cold.”
“Hot chocolate? I want hot chocolate!” Brynn announced, bouncing.
“My treat,” Colt offered, lifting Brynn up onto his shoulders, which was possibly her favorite spot in the world. “Come on, girls. Follow me.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to go buy some ornaments for the girls’ stockings?” Sadie asked in a whisper when Pen fell into step behind Colt. “We’ll take care of the girls. You go get some shopping done.”
“Oh. Well…” Pen looked around at the booths for the Christkindlmarkt. She hadn’t been able to do any shopping the other day because everyone had been together. Now would be a good time to get a few things she wasn’t going to order online.
“Whatever you buy, just hand it over to Ethan,” Sadie continued, stopping as Colt kept moving forward with the girls. “He gets off at eight. He’ll bring them home in his patrol car, then you can hide them after the girls go to bed.”
“My, you think of everything, don’t you?”
Sadie grinned. “Always. Now, shoo. We’ll keep the girls busy.”
“Well, all right.” Pen felt a bit unmoored since this wasn’t part of the plan, but she supposed she had to get used to being a little more spontaneous. Maybe it would be good for her.
She was surprised to find…it was. She shopped and talked with people she’d known in high school. She ran into Brynn’s teacher and had a quick conversation about how well Brynn was doing and her interest in helping out in the classroom.
She bought the girls ornaments, and herself a hot chocolate and some stollen. She rarely got it because the girls didn’t like it, so they were usually splitting lebkuchen cookies.
She found herself back at the Christmas tree, watching the lights twinkle in the cold evening. It was quieter over here, though people walked by chatting and laughing with each other.
Pen couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out and done something on her own. Oh, the grocery store now and then, or a trip to the pharmacy. But she hadn’t gone to a movie made for adults since long before Henry had died. She hadn’t had a shopping trip to herself that wasn’t harried or specifically geared toward a list in just as long.
She hadn’t even thought about getting a job—life was a constant balancing act and she and the girls had been financially well taken care of after Henry’s death. She helped out at the farm, and would help even more once the tourist side of things opened up. But it was all…connected.
Maybe she’d do more of this. Get out on her own. Sadie and Colt and Dad were busy with the farm and opening it to guests and adding Colt’s cattle, but they could work together to watch the girls an hour every few weeks so Pen could just…have a few moments to remember who she was beyond Mom.
She hadn’t thought she wanted that. Being Mom was a safe place not because she was actually safe or didn’t worry, but because she always had things to do. If she didn’t know how to help Addie, she knew how to fold laundry. If she didn’t know how to help Daisy with her reading struggles, she at least knew how to help Brynn with her math homework.
She had a clear role. Mom. Protector. Fighter.
Walking through the booths at the Christmas market in Last Stand, Texas, staring up at the tree she’d watched light up every December almost every year of her life, all she had to be was Penelope Martin-Wakefield.
Whoever that was.
Definitely a scary thing to try and figure out, but…exciting too. Hopeful.
Somewhere people were singing ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ and Pen smiled up at the tree. She would cling to hopeful. Maybe she’d even embrace change.
She’d try, anyway.
Her phone buzzed. “Sadie? Everything all right?”
“Just great!” Sadie said, far too cheerfully. “Hey, um, just FYI, we took the girls home.”
“What?”
“They were tired and you were talking with someone. I figured we’d take them home and you could stay and enjoy yourself.”
“How am I supposed to get home?” Pen demanded, not trusting the overly casual note to Sadie’s voice.
“Like I said, Ethan gets off at eight. He can drive you home.”
Ethan. Pen turned around. He was tall and in uniform, including his cowboy hat, so he was easy to spot, even in the crowd.
“Does Ethan know he’s in charge of driving me home?” Pen asked, watching as Ethan talked to a younger couple Pen didn’t recognize.
When her sister didn’t respond, Pen scowled at the phone. “Sadie,” she growled in a warning voice.
“Colt will handle that. Do some Christmas shopping. Enjoy a coffee or a drink by yourself. Just…take a break.”
“I don’t take breaks.”
“I’ve noticed. Dad has noticed. Christmas is stressful. De-stress.”
Which she had been doing, hadn’t she? Doing and enjoying. “All right.” She pushed out a breath. “All right.”
“Great. See you in a bit.”
Pen hung up her phone and watched Ethan. He said goodbye to the couple then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He scowled at the screen, which she presumed meant Colt had texted him that he was in charge of bringing her home.
He looked up and scanned the crowd, slowly softening the scowl on his face to something neutral. Interesting to watch him do that while he didn’t know she was looking. Eventually his gaze made its way over to the tr
ee and finally landed on her.
She smiled and shrugged.
He started making his way toward her, and she decided to wait. She sipped her hot chocolate and watched the tree as someone waylaid Ethan. Once he’d taken care of whatever they wanted he finally arrived.
“I’m working,” he announced, and he sounded pleasant all in all, but she knew he was irritated despite him giving no outward signs. Something about the way he held his shoulders.
“Yes, of course,” she agreed. “Hard at work taming this dangerous crowd.” She gestured toward the ever-diminishing group of people. Happy and jovial with absolutely no threat of anything otherwise.
“I’m glad it’s a joke, but—”
“It’s not a joke. But I also know you can walk around with me without breaking any precious policy. If you get a call, you’ll go to it. If you don’t, I buy you a hot chocolate.”
“Is Sadie…up to something?” he asked, studying her.
She knew what he meant, but refused to bite if he wasn’t going to be specific. “What would she be up to, Ethan?” She smiled innocently at him until he frowned.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But a lebkuchen better come with that hot chocolate.” His obvious attempt to sound grumpy failed, and amused her greatly.
“Of course,” she returned with mock gravity. She fell into step next to him, heading back toward the market.
She might not be certain who Penelope Martin-Wakefield was outside of ‘mother,’ but she knew she wanted it to have something to do with this man next to her.
*
Ethan walked around the market with Pen. He kept wishing a call would come in that would necessitate him leaving the premises, but of course all was quiet.
It was stupid to feel on display, as if walking about town with Pen meant something. He would have done the same if she was here with the girls, or if it had only been Fritz. Him walking around with a Martin, any Martin, was as common as anything else.
It felt all…wrong now. Obvious. Like there was a spotlight on them.
Which worried him only because of his father, not because of the riot of feelings jangling inside of his gut like a parade.