“The same way I’ll play and hold Laney.” Ethan leaned around the baby as he reached for the popcorn. “Very carefully.”
The child was propped in his lap, her back resting against his chest. One of his muscular arms wrapped around her middle. Her beautiful dark blue eyes were wide open, staring at Samson in fascination.
“Her radar’s trained on my cat.”
“I don’t think she’s ever seen one before.” He shoved the popcorn into his mouth, then slid seven dominoes to his side of the table.
Molly did the same, standing the game pieces in two rows for examination. She lifted an eyebrow in his direction. “What? No pets? That’s child abuse.”
“I never said we didn’t have a pet. Just no cat.” He thumped a double-five on the table. “Ten points.”
Molly made an
X
on the score sheet under his name, then glanced up at him. A little leap of… something stirred in her blood. “Don’t tell me there’s a poor dog trapped in your apartment with no food and no way to get out if he needs to.”
“Nope. No dog.”
“I’ll take ten myself.” She slid a blank-five onto the wooden tabletop and wrote her score on the yellow pad of paper. “What kind of pet do you have then? A boa constrictor?”
An amused smile lit his face and sent the beguiling scar into relief. “What would you say if I said yes?”
She could tell he was teasing. It had been a long time since she’d joked and bantered with a man, and it felt good. “I’d tell you never to invite me to your house.”
“Which would be a terrible shame considering that I owe you a return invitation.”
“Sorry, I don’t do snakes.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh and said dramatically, “I guess this is the beginning and the end of our friendship.”
Releasing a gusty sigh of his own, he let his shoulders sag in mock resignation. “Okay, you win. I’ll get rid of the boa as long as you don’t take exception to the shark in the bathtub.”
Molly couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Ethan, you’re crazy.”
“That’s what Laney tells me all the time.” He kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Isn’t that right, sugar plum? Daddy likes snakes, sharks and goldfish. Dangerous stuff.”
“Goldfish?” Molly placed her hands over the cat’s ears. “Don’t let Samson hear you say that. Fish is his favorite meal.”
“That’s what the snake and the shark said, too. Poor Goldie.”
When Molly tilted back in her chair and laughed, Ethan’s eyes danced. Molly’s heart lurched in response. Her house guest was not only resourceful and heroic, he was funny and kind and incredibly nice-looking. And his devotion to his daughter was enough to make any unattached woman sit up and take notice.
Bad enough that she had to worry about Laney, but now she couldn’t get Ethan out of her mind either. She liked him. And she didn’t want to.
It would be better for all of them if the roads were melted in the morning, and Ethan and his baby were out of her life for good.
* * *
They weren’t.
The next morning the world had refrozen and looked like a crystal kingdom in a fairy tale. All of outdoors wore a thick coat of ice that glistened in the morning sun, every bit as beautiful as diamonds. No matter how inconvenient the ice was, Molly found the sight breathtaking.
Laney lay on a quilt in the living room making baby noises while Ethan resumed his ice-chipping job. With all the work he’d undertaken, Molly couldn’t expect him to carry Laney out in the cold with him. But every few minutes she felt compelled to race the ten feet from the kitchen to the quilt to make sure the child was all right.
She was exhausted, too. She had lain awake half the night worrying about Ethan and Laney out in the old fishing camper. Worrying that they might get cold. Worrying about the unstable electric lines sagging above them. And praying for the temperatures to warm and the roads to clear so they could leave. But the only thing that seemed to be thawing was the food in her freezer. So this morning she was loading meat into baskets to set outside in the winter wonderland.
“Look what I found.” Ethan stomped in through the back door, grinning from ear to ear, a portable radio in hand. The intriguing scar lifted over his eyebrow.
Since breakfast he’d been as busy as a politician at election time, doing the odd jobs that no one else ever got around to. He’d repaired the front door, replaced a broken tile in the bathroom, and rummaged around in the barn until he found a tube of caulking to use on the windows. He claimed he was doing all these things in repayment for her hospitality.
Molly laughed ruefully about that one. She wasn’t being hospitable by choice.
She piled another package of frozen hamburger into a clothes basket. “Where’d you find that?”
“In one of the camper cabinets.” He set it on the dinette table and fiddled with the knobs. Static and a high-pitched
wee-ooh-wee
filled the kitchen.
At the unexpected noise, Laney squealed. Molly jumped and nearly dropped the heavy basket.
Ethan gave her a funny look and said, “She’s okay. Cry of the banshee. Remember?”
Molly’s throat tightened. She rubbed at it, forcing her windpipe to remain open. “Check on her.”
She was behaving like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it.
“Okay,” he said quietly, and left the radio long enough to retrieve his daughter.
Molly followed him to the doorway, battling the creeping anxiety. Intellectually, she knew Laney was fine. Emotionally, she had to be certain.
Lord, would she ever stop feeling afraid?
* * *
As Ethan bent to pick up Laney, memories of the last two days flickered through his head. When Molly had avoided holding his daughter he’d chalked it up to another woman without a mother’s instinct. But that didn’t jive with her dedication to the homeless and underprivileged children nor with the woman he’d come to know and like.
Now, understanding clicked into place. In his years as a paramedic he had seen that state of near panic dozens of times. Molly didn’t dislike Laney. She was afraid of her. Though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would fear an infant, the knowledge made him feel better. It also made him more curious than ever. What had happened to make a grown woman so anxious around an infant?
Whatever it was, he wanted to fix it.
Molly was a good woman with a caring heart. She’d proven that a dozen times since he’d barged into her home and started asking favors. During the long conversations and crazy domino game of last night, he’d come to a startling realization.
Somehow he had to reconcile his baby with Molly. Because he wanted to know her better—a lot better.
The idea shocked him no end. He’d thought he was finished with women forever.
Chapter Five
“Y
ou can’t go up on that roof. It’s too
slick and dangerous.” Molly’s breath puffed white in the frigid morning, and
sprigs of shiny red hair peeked from beneath her hooded parka.
“Got to.” Ethan rested on his haunches next to
the house
where he had scraped away enough ice to set up the ladder. “That tree is
wrecking your roof. You’ll have a leak the size of Lake Erie.”
Ever since the storm, he had worried about the many trees
surrounding the big old farmhouse. Their strength was sorely taxed by the heavy
layer of ice and all were bent into unnatural positions. Last night one had
finally given way and collapsed onto the roof.
He and Molly had been engrossed in a serious game of Scrabble
when the thundering crash had occurred. He had jumped, awakening Laney, who sent
up a startled howl. Molly had screamed and tossed a handful of potato chips sky
high. This had insulted the lap cat who yowled and stalked out of the room.
They had ended up laughing until tears blurred their vision and
they were breathless. During that moment, he’d stared into Molly’s gentle face
and found himself wanting to please her, to make her laugh more, and most of
all, to chase away the anxiety emanating from her.
Now the small redhead stood in the yard, head tilted back to
survey the storm damage. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty her pale skin
looked in the morning sunlight.
“Do you really think the roof will leak?” Her small teeth
gnawed at a peach-colored bottom lip.
“No doubt about it.” He secured the ladder and started up. “You
could steady this for me, if you don’t mind.”
Molly hurried to do his bidding and Ethan felt a rush of
pleasure. She was a trooper, ready to help, willing to do her part. She not only
didn’t complain about their situation, she found ways to make it seem like an
adventure: board games, lively discussions about religion and politics, creative
meals by candle- and lamplight.
A man could get attached to a woman like that. After his
mistakes with Twila, he was loath to get involved with any woman ever again, but
Molly muddled his thinking.
And muddled thinking always led a man astray.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He had plenty to do
today, and fretting over his past wasn’t getting any of it done.
To still the disquieting thoughts, Ethan started
up the
ladder, his boots clanging against the metal rungs.
Once on the gabled roof, he realized the tree was too large to
move in one piece. He would have to saw it apart.
Slip-sliding to the edge, he called down to Molly. “I need that
chain saw. Can you hand it up?”
She hefted the tool, then paused and glanced toward the front
door. “You think Laney is still asleep?”
“Positive. She naps for a couple of hours at a stretch.” He
could see his response didn’t satisfy, and he continued to puzzle over why a
woman who refused to hold his baby worried so much about her. “Why?”
Molly made a twitching motion with one shoulder. “No
reason.”
She’d had plenty of chances to tell him what troubled her, but
every time she’d backed away. Funny how that irked him.
“I can take it from here,” he said, reaching for the saw.
Hanging on to the ladder with one hand, she passed the saw up
and then surprised him by ascending the remaining rungs. “I want to see what the
world looks like from up here.”
Being a pilot, Ethan loved the view from above the earth. Nice
to know Molly wasn’t put off by heights. The fleeting thought drifted through
his head that he might offer to take her up in a plane sometime.
Feet wide to maintain balance, he set the saw aside and offered
his gloved hand. “Ice is devastating, but beautiful, too. You can see for miles
from here.”
The safest place on the roof was where the chimney met the
long, sloping porch roof. The constant heat had melted a good portion of the ice
and the roof was a gentle incline. Situated there, Molly would be relatively
safe.
“I have pretty good footing. Let me steady you.”
With easy grace Molly made the transition from ladder to
overhang and settled into a corner of the eave. “Wow. You were right. This
is
awesome.”
Pleased with her wide-eyed response, he hunkered down beside
her and pointed. “Look in that big oak. See the woodpecker?”
Molly followed the line of his arm, face brightening. “He’s
huge.”
“The largest of the species. A pileated woodpecker.”
“Like Woody?” Her breath puffed small clouds into the frosty
morning.
Ethan grinned at her teasing tone. “Hear him?”
The woodpecker’s rat-a-tat-tat echoed through the still
morning.
“The birds are everywhere today.” Her gaze scanned the
sparkling ice-coated trees. “See those bright red cardinals? They look so pretty
against the white-and-silver ice. And over there, jays and chickadees and a
nuthatch.”
Ethan didn’t bother to look. He was much more interested in
watching her face than in watching the birds. Cheeks rosy from the cold and
honey-colored eyes alight with interest charmed him. He resisted a totally
unacceptable urge to smooth a finger over her soft-looking skin.
“They’re probably hungry. The ice is covering up their food
source.”
Molly turned her head, caught him looking and blushed. He liked
the way she did that, just as he liked the smattering of golden freckles across
her nose.
“I normally keep seed out for them.” She quickly shifted her
eyes back to the wildlife. “But I suppose it’s covered up, too. We’ll have to
put out more.”
In an effort to turn his attention away from Molly’s sparkling
eyes and wind-kissed cheeks, Ethan searched the vast horizon below them. Birds
flitted about, singing as though the frigid temperatures and frozen landscape
wouldn’t bring the demise of at least some of their kind.
And then something else caught his eye.
Index finger across his lips, he whispered, “Sit very still and
look directly below us, near the edge of the front yard.”
A white-tailed deer materialized, a spot of tan suede against
the crystal forest.
“Oh!” Molly breathed, gloved hands bracketing her mouth. “A
deer.”
In seconds a fawn clambered into sight, his slick hooves
troublesome on the icy ground. When his front legs went in separate directions,
Molly slanted a smile toward Ethan.
Like co-conspirators they sat in hushed silence and watched the
deer paw at the ground, digging for dinner.
Ethan had work to do but was reluctant to break the beautiful
spell the wildlife—and time with Molly McCreight—created. Who knew sitting on
the roof in the frigid morning sun could be so entertaining?
After a bit the doe stopped digging and ambled away. Her fawn
followed along, white tail twitching.
“Food is scarce for them, too,” Ethan said softly.
“I wish we had some corn. It makes me sad to see them
hungry.”
That was twice now that she’d said
we
as naturally as if the two of them had been working together
forever. The idea felt better than it should have considering his
less-than-perfect track record with women.
Even though he’d made those mistakes before he’d turned his
life over to Jesus, the consequences remained. And he’d promised to concentrate
on raising Laney and to leave the ladies alone.
He just hoped he could keep that promise. Spending time with
Molly could become dangerously habit-forming. And until the roads cleared, he
had little choice in the matter.
“I’d better get busy,” he said more abruptly than he’d
intended. “That tree won’t saw itself.”
“Let me help.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and started to
rise. Halfway up, her footing gave way on the frosted slope, and she slipped
sideways.
Everything happened so fast but to Ethan the whole world
stopped. Adrenaline shot into his bloodstream. Without considering the risk to
himself, he grabbed for her, caught her around the waist with one hand, and
yanked her back, all the while grappling for something to hold on to with his
other.
Molly slammed into his chest, and his boots slid out from under
him. Together they skidded over the frozen shingles unchecked for several feet.
Fear lifted the hair on his neck as he faced
the
inevitable. They were going to plummet to the ground below.
* * *
Molly wanted to scream but there was no time. She and
Ethan picked up speed. Chilled wind pushed at her cheeks. Scenery blurred. Fear
of the inevitable fall clogged her throat.
Convinced they would tumble over the edge, she squeezed her
eyes tight and gave an inward cry. “Help us.”
They came to an abrupt, jarring stop. Other than the sound of
their frightened panting, all was silent. Even the birds had hushed.
Molly opened her eyes. They were inches from the edge, but
Ethan gripped a vent pipe with one hand and held her with the other. Instead of
amazement that she had narrowly escaped serious injury, Molly could only marvel
at how strong Ethan
must be.
For several frightened seconds they rested on the roof, cold
seeping through their jeans, while their ragged breathing slowed to normal.
“That was close,” Molly whispered. Her pulse thundered against
her temples; she was as unsettled by Ethan’s nearness as by the
near-accident.
Still clinging to the pipe for support, Ethan sat upright and
drew her up beside him. He steadied them both until their position was secure.
Molly wondered why he didn’t release her.
“I shouldn’t have let you come up here,” he said. “You could
have been hurt.”
His naturally tan face was intense and pale and dangerously
close.
“I came up under my own power, Ethan.”
“But—” he started to argue. Molly placed a gloved hand on his
cheek.
“Ethan, it’s my roof. You were trying to help me. And thanks to
you, neither of us is hurt.” She knew she should move away from him, but she
didn’t want to. She hadn’t felt safe in a long time, and Ethan’s secure embrace
was a haven of comfort and security.
Her hood had come off in the slide and her hair fell across her
mouth. As tenderly as he touched Laney, Ethan brushed the lock back from her
face.
Something more disturbing than a fall stirred inside Molly.
Tenderness was such an alluring quality in a man. Hadn’t she admired that
characteristic over and over again in his care of Laney? And now he was treating
her with the same tenderness.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” His troubled blue eyes studied her as
if he wanted to memorize her face. His warm voice dropped to a murmur. “Very
glad.”
In that instant Molly thought he might kiss her. As scary as
that was, and as long as it had been since she had entertained such a thought,
she wanted him to.
He swallowed and tilted his head. From the frozen north a
slight wind pushed away the warmth of his breath, bringing with it a new sound.
Not a cracking, groaning tree. Not a bird. But a baby’s cry.
Molly jerked away and was in danger of going into another
slide. Ethan clutched her shoulders. “Easy.”
“Laney,” she said, almost desperately. Her pulse trembled in
her throat. She pressed a hand there to stop the impending anxiety. “We
shouldn’t have left her.”
Ethan cocked his head to one side and listened. “She’s awake.
Better go see.”
As though he hadn’t just leaped over her carefully built wall,
Ethan moved away to tend his baby.
And as quickly as that, the sweet mood dissipated like the call
of the chickadee on the north wind.
During their moments of shared fright, Molly had all but
forgotten the insurmountable barrier between them. Now all the reasons for her
to stay far away from Ethan Hunter came rushing back in the cry of a tiny baby.
* * *
By midmorning of the fifth day, the temperatures hovered
around freezing and Molly embraced a ray of hope along with this morning’s ray
of sunshine that the deep freeze would soon end.
To her relief, after the near-accident and the more disquieting
near-kiss, she and her delivery man had returned to friendly banter and
cooperative living.
Ethan had to be tired of the tiny, cramped camper, but he never
complained. Still, he and Laney were normally in the kitchen for the baby’s
early bottle by the time Molly awakened each morning. Coffee, boiled the
old-fashioned way in a pot from the camper, filled the kitchen with a rich
scent.
This particular morning they were arguing.
“According to the radio anything that thaws will refreeze
tonight,” Ethan said, bouncing Laney on one knee. “So if I’m to have any hope of
digging out the van, I need to get moving.”
“Even if you succeed, the roads are still treacherous.” Molly
shoved her hair back, looping it over one ear. Considering she had had no dryer
or curlers for nearly a week, she must look a fright.
“I have to try. Laney’s running short on formula.”
“What if you can’t get the van out?” she asked.
“I’ll walk to town.”
“And leave us ladies out here alone?”
She tried to tease, but the quiver in her voice gave her
away.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “I can’t carry a baby six miles in this
cold.”
“I know.” Self-loathing dripped inside her as cold and sharp as
the icicles hanging outside the kitchen window. Why couldn’t she just get over
herself? “We’ll be fine.” She hoped. “But if you have to walk, how will you get
back out here? To get us, I mean.”
“I’ll worry about that after I get to town. My truck is small
and might not make it, but Pastor Cliff has a four-wheel drive.” He arched his
eyebrows, teasing. “In a pinch, I can commandeer a snow plow.”
They both smiled at his silliness.
He was so incredibly brave and she was such a coward.
“Well, you’re right. We can’t hold out much longer. And you
have to be as sick as I am of washing dish towels by hand every day.”