by Helm, Nicole
Only every step she took dismantled some piece of his life.
“I’ll give you tonight, Ethan, because you’re used to dealing alone,” she said solemnly, standing in front of him. Her eyes alight with something. “But you won’t be anymore.”
Alone was what he was. What he had to be. “Pen—”
“That was amazing,” she said, pointing at the bed. “That was right. You might not want to believe it, but you know it.”
He meant to shake his head, to argue with her, but all he could seem to do was stand rooted to the spot.
“That first kiss scared me, I’ll admit it. Not for probably any of the reasons you made up in your head, not that you bothered asking. But I didn’t offer to tell you either because I needed some time to…reconcile myself to some things. Because that kiss was so much bigger than I was prepared for.”
She kept moving toward him, this force he had to resist somehow.
“But I’m not scared anymore. I refuse to be. I’ve lost too much in my life to keep being scared. So, you’re not going to like this, but I love you.”
He had to look away, to turn away. He had no problem resisting that because it was the last thing he wanted, the last thing she needed. “Don’t say that to me.”
“Too late. Take your night to wallow. To convince yourself all your baggage is holding you back. We’ll talk tomorrow. And God help you if you try to make a run for it like Colt did.”
“I don’t want—”
But she was dressed and out the bedroom door, and then the front door, slamming it behind her.
Chapter Twelve
Pen wasn’t sure what she felt. She thought maybe if there were goddesses or superheroes, this is what they’d feel like. Powerful. Right. And a little disappointed that mere mortals didn’t know what they were doing.
She sighed as she pulled up in front of the house. She wasn’t even mad anymore, or frustrated. She just felt badly for Ethan.
For so long he’d hidden that wounded heart under such a perfect layer of stoicism and decency no one had noticed. Not really. But no matter what she’d begun to suspect and find in him the past few weeks, tonight had shown her the full picture.
Ethan needed love. And he needed to let some things go, and acknowledge some other things. She’d told him she’d give him tonight because he was used to being alone, but the truth was she didn’t know how to reach him.
She got out of the car. The stars twinkled above like diamonds, and the air was cold. The Christmas lights shone brightly, and in the distance she could see the same colored lights on Sadie and Colt’s cabin.
And she belonged here. No matter what happened with Ethan, she belonged exactly here. That would give her the strength to do whatever it took to get through to that very stubborn man.
She walked inside then stopped short at the sight of her baby sister at the table with Sadie. “Mack. You’re home early.”
“Weather was going to be bad tomorrow so we headed out this morning.” Mack raised an eyebrow. “You look rumpled.”
“Oh my God,” Sadie breathed, taking in her appearance.
“What?” Mack demanded. “Pen have a boyfriend no one told me about?”
But Sadie didn’t look at Mack. She kept her wide-eyed gaze on Pen. “Dad told you to check in on Ethan on your way home.”
“Oh my God,” Mack echoed. “What on earth have I missed? First you.” She pointed at Sadie with some disgust. “Now you.”
Sadie turned to Mack, all wide-eyed innocence. “Who does that leave you?”
Mack scowled at Sadie and lifted her middle finger.
Sadie grinned up at Pen and it was then Pen noticed the bottle of wine between her sisters. Yes, that was exactly what she needed. She grabbed the wine bottle off the table and took a long gulp straight from the bottle.
“So, what’s the story?” Mack asked. The glass of wine in front of her was mostly full, but Sadie’s was empty.
Pen took another very unladylike swig, wishing she had her father’s whiskey instead. “It’s not a very good one. Not yet.”
“Oh, Pen, I do love your battle light when it’s not aimed at me.” Mack grinned.
“Sit down. Spill,” Sadie said, patting the chair next to her.
“Where are the girls?”
“They’re having a wrapping party over at my cabin with Dad and Colt. In other words, the men are conning your girls into wrapping the presents they bought for us.”
“All right.” Pen took a seat. Mack offered her glass, but Pen shook her head. “I slept with Ethan.”
“I can’t believe you two,” Mack muttered disgustedly.
“I didn’t actually plan to. When Dad asked me to stop by, I didn’t want to. I still hadn’t figured anything out. He kissed me a few weeks ago and it was a lot…more than I expected,” Pen explained to Mac since Sadie already knew that part. “But he opened the door and I immediately knew I’d been an idiot. You can’t figure things out like that. All on your own, forever turning over the same problem. You need to acknowledge it and face it—especially with the person you’re trying to work things out with.”
“You do. Not everyone does.”
Pen looked pointedly at her youngest sister. “Everyone, Sis. Everyone. But he was… Something happened. Beyond me. I don’t know what, but he had more on his shoulders than he usually does.” And he hadn’t told her. Hadn’t even tried to. He’d tried to scare her away.
“I… I knew he would do this. I knew it would end with him thinking it was a mistake.” There’d been no surprise there. The surprise had been wanting to make love with him anyway—even knowing he’d regret it. She couldn’t explain that to herself. She’d wanted him on the basic level of wanting someone, but she’d also wanted to prove he couldn’t scare her away. She wouldn’t let him. “I knew he’d think it was a mistake going in, but…it was still amazing.”
“Because you love him,” Mack said, and though she clearly wasn’t pleased the disgust in her tone was muted.
“No. Because he loves you,” Sadie corrected. “I don’t know much, but I think loving someone and not having them love you back wouldn’t be amazing. It was amazing because you know he loves you.”
“I think he does,” Pen agreed, trying to breathe through that. Love was so much more than she’d bargained for, so much bigger and quicker. But just as she’d told him earlier, they were right together. Maybe right didn’t always come with good timing. And maybe that was okay.
“He needed me tonight. He needs us. I’ve always loved Ethan one way or another, but it took this whole month to understand him.”
Sadie twisted her engagement ring around on her finger. “Do you think you can get through to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I can’t.” Pen sucked in a deep breath. That knowledge scared her most of all. “But I have to try.” She thought of the love she’d had and lost—both her mother’s and her husband’s. Loss hurt. So much. But love… “Life’s too precious not to try. He looked so… He was alone in that apartment and he just looked gray.”
“Christmas is always a hard time for him,” Sadie noted.
“It shouldn’t be. He has all of us.”
“Sometimes having people doesn’t help with…things,” Mack said, staring hard at her glass.
Pen frowned at that, but she could only deal with one hardheaded, emotionally distant person at a time. “I guess it doesn’t. Especially when you won’t even admit what’s wrong.” She gave Mack a pointed look, but didn’t press it. “I mean, that was my problem. I was trying to push down all of the feelings I didn’t want to deal with. I channeled all that anxiety into something else. But it comes out anyway. One way or another.”
“Ethan doesn’t strike me as anxious,” Sadie replied with a thoughtful frown. “He doesn’t strike me as anything that…frenetic.”
“No, he’s not frenetic. He’s not even out of control—though that’s probably how he considered what he did tonight. He holds himself separate.”
“Some of us are just more naturally introverted,” Mack pointed out.
“Yes, that’s true, and that’s certainly part of it. But he takes great pains to give the illusion of someone who’s always there. He’s the first to offer to help. No one ever doubts Ethan will step in and do the right thing.”
“But?” Sadie prompted.
“He distances himself. Yes, he’ll pick up milk. He watches the girls if there’s an emergency. He’d drive me home from Christkindlmarkt even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He’s here when it’s important, but he’s holding himself back. In the periphery. He doesn’t get in the thick of things and argue. He doesn’t wade into fraught discussions. He acts, but he doesn’t join.” She thought about what he’d told her about Colt and Bracken threatening Henry before they got married. He’d held himself separate even from that—because it would have required being involved. Being connected.
“Why would someone keep themselves separate like that?” Sadie asked. “When he has to know we all love him.”
Both Pen and Sadie’s gaze lifted to Mack.
“Don’t you both look at me. This is about Ethan.”
“But you do it. You keep yourself far away,” Pen said gently. “You could tell us why, you know.”
Mack stared at the table for a long time, so long Pen really thought she wouldn’t say anything. Until she did.
“Being here is complicated. The rodeo isn’t.” She looked directly at Pen, not at Sadie. “I don’t want to get into this right now, okay?”
Pen didn’t know what exactly about being home would be complicated for Mack, but it wasn’t like Mack to be honest. Usually she’d try to piss everyone off until they left her alone. So, Pen decided to give her some space, since she’d asked for it instead of acting out.
“Okay.”
Mack shrugged. “If Ethan distances himself, it’s because something about joining the fray hurts.”
“Hurts. Or he’s scared of it hurting,” Pen mused. “He’s avoiding complicated. He’s avoiding feeling deeply and…” It hit her then. Not quite like a lightning bolt—more like a succession of blows.
The things he’d said to her since Thanksgiving. The way he’d acted tonight afterward.
Her staying and talking would have been complicated. Pieces of it would have hurt him. So, what had he done?
“Tomorrow morning when Ethan comes by, assuming he actually does, can you guys keep the girls and Dad occupied?”
“Of course,” Sadie replied. “Consider it done.”
*
Ethan didn’t want to face Pen, but ignoring this wouldn’t make it go away. Besides, he’d slipped up and made a mistake, which meant he had to face the consequences.
And make sure he made it clear there could be no more. He’d tell her everything and then she’d understand. No matter how many times he told himself that, he wasn’t altogether sure it was true.
He’d make it true. He had to. He got out of his car and faced the house. He’d go in there, say his piece, and leave. Come New Year’s, they’d forget this aberration of a month had ever happened.
They had to.
But before he stepped toward the house he heard some kind of commotion coming from the goat barn. The voices were high-pitched and Ethan peeked his head in the door.
Addie and Brynn were facing off, little hands curled into fists. They were yelling at each other, which Ethan figured was usual enough. He’d seen the Martin sisters do just the same well into adulthood.
But then Brynn lunged at Addie, knocking her down. The two wrestled on the ground as goats bleated around them, almost completely muffled by the girls yelling.
Ethan waded through the herd of goats. Much as he would have left the girls to their yelling, he couldn’t leave them to hurt one another.
Since Brynn was on top, he grabbed her. She didn’t stop swinging her fists and kicking her legs as he hefted her off Addie who scrambled to her feet.
Addie stood there looking smug while Brynn kept trying to get to her. Ethan was a little surprised at how strong she was—he almost lost a hold of her twice.
“That’s enough,” he finally ordered in a commanding voice that had Brynn freezing and Addie blinking in surprise. “What on earth has gotten into you two?”
“I hate her! I hate her! She’s mean and stupid and I hate her.” Brynn kicked again, but tears leaked from the corners of her eyes even as she furiously blinked them back.
“What are you two doing in here alone?”
“Daisy got a splinter, so Sadie took her over to her cabin,” Addie replied, lifting her chin haughtily. “Before that, Colt asked Mack for help with one of his horses and Grandpa went into town to get donuts. I said we could handle things in here by ourselves, but then Brynn acted like a big baby.”
“You’re mean and rude and I hate you,” Brynn screamed.
“So you two decided to have a brawl on Christmas Eve?”
“I didn’t,” Addie replied, making a face at Brynn who started wiggling and trying to get out of his grasp again.
He looked at Addie, who had her arms folded across her chest and looked like her mom if not in coloring or face, in disapproving stance. Brynn was still wriggling in his grasp, angry and desperate to inflict harm.
“Is anyone hurt?” Both girls shook their heads. It wasn’t his place to stick his nose in their sibling fight, but at the same time it was Christmas Eve and he’d already caused Pen enough grief. “Brynn. You head on over to Sadie and Colt’s cabin. You can yell and stomp the whole way there, but taking your anger out on your sister is wrong.”
She blinked even more rapidly, sucking in a breath. Her eyes were wide and she was studying him, as if deciding whether he had any right to tell her what to do.
None at all.
But she nodded, her little chin wobbling even as she tried to firm her mouth. Ethan put her on her feet and she dramatically flung her head away from Addie as she left the barn.
Ethan knew he should leave it at that, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do what he knew he should. Quite the theme with the Martin-Wakefield women, isn’t it?
“What was that about?”
Addie lifted her chin again, looking so haughty Ethan might have found it amusing in a different situation. “She thinks if she’s good enough, Santa will bring Mom a new husband. She’s stupid. And too old to think stupid things. So I told her the truth.”
Something very uncomfortable hitched in his gut, but that had to do with him not Addie. “What truth?”
“There’s no such thing as Santa. And she got all mad about it and acted like a big, stupid baby.”
“It isn’t right to hurt her feelings like that. She’s your sister.”
“What do you know? You don’t have a sister. You don’t have anyone.”
“I did.” He hadn’t meant to say that. But anyone had hit hard enough that the words tumbled out. He felt even worse about it when Addie looked up at him like she’d been slapped.
“She died?” Addie asked, because this girl was very well acquainted with senseless, early death and what past tense meant.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“Doesn’t mean Brynn isn’t a stupid baby,” Addie muttered under her breath.
Ethan wanted to smile but he pressed his lips together to keep his expression serious. “Would it have hurt to let her believe that?”
“Yes! She’d wake up on Christmas morning and be stupidly sad that Santa didn’t magically put some guy under our tree that Mom would somehow marry. I’m saving her a lot of trouble, and Mom the trouble of having to make her feel better. I did the right thing.”
It was hard to argue with that logic, because it was logic, and in her own way Addie was trying to protect the people she loved.
But all Ethan could think about was what Pen had said back when she’d broken her arm. That Brynn wanted to act like she didn’t believe, but she had too much imag
ination not to believe in magic.
“I understand that.” But there was something about Addie’s smugness that reminded him of the Martin girls and their sisterly fights. “But I want you to think about if you really did it to spare her, or if you did it because you were mad and wanted to hurt her feelings. The first one is dangerous, because sometimes hope and belief are good things…even if there’s no real foundation for them. The second one is flat-out wrong, and I think you’re better than that.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and she looked at him like he’d kicked one of the goats right in front of her. Not just hurt, but a little horrified.
She didn’t say anything. She turned on a heel and marched out of the barn.
Smooth. Real smooth.
He followed her, and no matter how she stormed his long strides caught up with her as she flung herself into the house. He stepped into the kitchen where Pen sat at the table, looking serene, but she frowned when Addie stomped in beside him.
“I thought you were—”
“I’m going back to bed,” Addie announced, continuing her stomping all the way upstairs.
Pen’s confused gaze lifted to Ethan. “What happened?”
Faced with her in this kitchen, he didn’t have the words to explain all of that. “I caught her and Brynn fighting in the goat barn.”
Pen’s frowned deepened. “About what?”
He really couldn’t get into that. “I’m not sure. But Brynn’s with Mack and Sadie and Daisy. I thought maybe it was better if Addie had some time to cool off.”
Pen nodded. “That’s probably best. Brynn has a bit of a temper.”
“I noticed.”
“I don’t know where she gets it from. We Martins are such a calm, even-tempered people.” She said it seriously, so seriously he had to, once again, fight the urge to smile. She let out a sigh, giving a glimpse to the staircase Addie had stormed up, then looked back to the table. “I’ll have to give her a bit of time to cool off too or she won’t tell me anything.”