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Hannah flung a hand in the air to silence him and glanced over her shoulder.
A little boy in Batman pajamas suddenly appeared in the arched doorway that probably led to the bedrooms, his hand on a white-faced golden retriever. He blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the wall of windows facing the driveway and forest beyond.
Hannah immediately went to him, kneeled and gave him a hug. “Good morning, sweetie. Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
He rubbed his eyes and gave Ethan a brief, blank look, then regarded her with an achingly solemn expression. “Do we have to go back on the plane now?”
“No, of course not.” She rested a gentle hand on his cheek. “Do you remember what your great-aunt Cynthia said before you left Texas?”
“She said we had to come here.” His lower lip trembled and his eyes welled with tears. “But Mommy and Daddy are there, and our toys, and everything. And I gotta go back.”
Chapter Two (#uf348bec7-23e0-5c3e-8dd1-0b36010d3b55)
Her heart breaking at Cole’s grief and confusion, Hannah briefly closed her eyes. Lord, please help me say the right things and help him understand. He’s so very young for all of this to happen.
“Your mommy and daddy will love you forever and ever, and would want to be with you more than anything,” she said softly. “But they’re in heaven now, sweetheart. When you grow very old and go to heaven, you’ll be with them again, I promise.”
She rested her hands gently on his shoulders and nodded toward Ethan. “But you have relatives on earth who love you very much, like your uncle Ethan and me. We want to make sure you are safe, and happy. And that you’ll get to do all the fun things boys like to do.”
She bit her lower lip, wanting to tell him that she would be the one to keep him safe and happy forever. But with Ethan lurking in a chair across the room, she couldn’t risk adding more hurt to the little boy’s life.
Would she even stand a chance against Ethan and his aunt if they challenged her custody in court? Could she afford enough legal representation to stop them?
“Your toys are in those boxes by the front door, and I see you made friends with Maisie,” she continued with a smile. “Did I tell you that there are lots of other friends here for you to meet?”
He met her eyes then dropped his gaze to the floor.
“Bootsie, the basset hound, is sleeping over there on the kitchen floor and the kitties by the fridge are Eenie, Meanie—the most playful one—and Moe. And outside I have some really fun surprises to show you once you get dressed and have some breakfast.” She tipped her head toward the suitcases. “Do you want to pick out some clothes for today or should I?”
He lifted a shoulder in a faint shrug, so she dug through his suitcase and found jeans and a bright red sweatshirt. “Can you get dressed all by yourself?”
At that, his lower lip stuck out. “I’m six. Anybody in first grade can do that.”
She chuckled. “Of course they can. So here you go, buddy. You can change in your room, okay? And I’ll go check on your sister. Maybe she’s ready to wake up, too.”
After he dressed and she’d settled him at the counter with a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice, Hannah knocked lightly on Molly’s door and stepped just inside when she heard no answer.
The eleven-year-old was dressed—in her clothes from yesterday—and huddled in the corner by the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees.
Hannah dropped to the floor next to her. “Tough morning, with all of these changes,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“I want to go home.” Molly bit her lower lip. “But I don’t know where that is anymore.”
“You must feel like a leaf blowing in the wind. From Texas to Oklahoma for a year, then back to Texas last April. Right?”
“’Cause Dad kept losing his jobs,” Molly said bitterly. “But he said things would be better if we went back to Texas. He promised.”
Glancing through the open bedroom door, Hannah saw Ethan shift in his chair and frown at Molly’s words. Had he known that little detail about his shiftless brother? About all the promises, all of the failures?
Probably not. At Cole’s christening, her sister Dee had mentioned that Ethan rarely came back to Texas when on leave, and Rob had been adept at covering his failures with bluster and bravado.
With so little contact with his family, Ethan somehow imagined he should be the one to raise these kids? If he was like his brother, it would mean just one more chapter marked with disappointment in Molly’s and Cole’s lives.
“If you ever miss being with your great-aunt Cynthia, you can call her anytime. Or even visit her when she feels better.”
“I don’t miss her. Just home.” Molly swallowed hard. “But now everything there is gone and there’s no way we can go back. It would never be the same.” Molly glared at Hannah. “You won’t ever be our mom. I’ll never call you that.”
“Of course not. When you were little, you called me Auntie Hannah.” Hannah rested a comforting hand on Molly’s, but the child jerked her hand away. “You can call me Aunt Hannah or just Hannah. Does that sound okay?”
Molly gave a faint, dismissive shrug.
“Sweetheart, I loved my sister very much, and I don’t want to take her place. I just want you to be happy again someday.”
“Then I need to be with my old friends at school. Not here.” Molly dropped her forehead to her upraised knees.
With all the times her family had moved in the past three years, Hannah knew the poor girl had barely had the time to make new friends before changing schools and starting over. Though she wasn’t ready to hear it, Aspen Creek would be her first chance to actually put down roots.
“Speaking of friends, I have some for you to meet—right here.”
Molly shuddered. “I’m not staying and I don’t want to meet anyone.”
Hannah rose. “I think you’ll feel differently in a moment. After breakfast, we’ll have some introductions. Okay?”
“I don’t like breakfast.”
Hannah had known there’d be plenty of problems ahead, and that choosing her battles would be the key to making this work. Today’s breakfast just wasn’t one of them.
* * *
Cole finished his cereal, then swiveled in circles on his bar stool several times before pulling to a stop and pinning his gaze on Ethan. “You’re my uncle?”
Ethan nodded.
Cole’s eyes narrowed. “I never met you.”
“That’s because I’m usually very far away.” Ethan cleared his throat. Did he explain that he was Rob’s brother or would mentioning the kid’s dad make him cry?
He’d always been uneasy around children, never having a clue what to say. If he upset the boy, would it make everything even more difficult in the future?
He definitely didn’t want to mess this up on the first day.
He summoned a smile. “You did meet me, Cole...but you were just a little guy then.”
From Cole’s stubborn expression, he wasn’t buying it. “If you’re my uncle, how come you didn’t come see us all the time like Hannah? She came lots of times on a plane, and even brought us presents. Every time.”
“Well, I couldn’t come to see you often because I’m a soldier. So I’ve been gone a lot, way on the other side of the world.”
“Shooting guns and stuff like on TV?” The boy’s eyes widened with worry and a touch of fear. “Do you kill people for real?”
“Uh...” He searched for the right thing to say to the boy, who slid off his stool and backed up beside Hannah, and figured a vague answer was best. “Soldiers do a lot of things—not just fight.”
Cole considered that for a moment, his expression still wary. “So I could take you to show-and-tell, with your guns and everything?”
Ethan shuddered at that. “That would not be a good idea, buddy. Guns aren’t safe—especially at school.”
He looked up and found Hannah glaring at him, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes as cold as steel.
“You can thank your aunt Cynthia for how he feels about you. Apparently she told Molly and Cole that you were a tough guy. One who would really straighten them out. If you ever showed up, anyway.”
“Why on earth would she—” He heaved a sigh, suddenly knowing all too well.
Even when he and Rob were kids, she’d been a stickler about her designer clothes, her elegant lifestyle. She’d always watched them like a hawk during their rare visits to her pristine home. Having Rob’s two kids underfoot all those months had probably been unbelievably stressful for a woman who had always prized perfection over warm family emotions.
Ethan cleared his throat, searching for a different topic. “So, do you, um, like to ride bikes?”
“Don’t got one.” The child’s face fell, his eyes filled with stark grief. “Mom said she’d get me a bike after we moved. But she died.”
“I—I’m...” The boy’s words felt like a fist to Ethan’s gut and he floundered to a halt. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Knowing Rob, there probably hadn’t been any extra money for a new bike anyway, even though Ethan had loaned him a lot of money over the years.
His brother had always had just one more emergency, one more bout of overdue bills, and promises that it wouldn’t happen again. And, always, a case of amnesia when it came to paying any of it back.
“I’m not batting a thousand here, am I?” Ethan muttered, looking up at Hannah.
“Nope.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “And just in case you haven’t noticed, never think this situation is easy.”
Cole looked between them, clearly confused by their exchange.
“Time for a new topic,” Hannah muttered as she put Cole’s bowl and cup in the sink. She smiled down at him. “We have our first snowstorm of the year predicted on Sunday, so right now I think we should be shopping for sleds. But come spring I’ll make sure you and your sister have new bikes. Now—are you ready for a surprise?”
His eyes round and serious, Cole nodded.
Molly appeared in the kitchen, her expression dour, and Ethan felt his heart clench at seeing her long, curly brown hair and big green eyes. Cole was fair and blond like his mom, but Molly was nearly identical to her dad at that same age—even down to her stubborn chin, the sprinkle of freckles over her nose and slender frame.
“Stay where you are, so you don’t get trampled. I’ll be right back.” Hannah went through a door leading into the attached garage, leaving it open behind her.
A moment later a river of puppies exploded into the kitchen. Black ones. White ones. Gold. Spotted and speckled. They tumbled across the floor with squeals of excitement and chased each other throughout the kitchen and living room. The basset snored on.
Giggling, Cole dropped to the floor, quickly overcome with puppies trying to crawl over his legs. But though a glimmer of a smile briefly touched her lips, Molly held on to her aloof expression and backed away.
Ethan winced as a white pup with a black spot over one eye careened against his bad right ankle then landed in a heap on his other foot.
Forgetting his usual caution, he reached down and scooped it up, cradling its fat bottom in his good hand to look into its pudgy face. “Who are you, little guy?”
“I haven’t named any of them yet,” Hannah said. “That might be a good job for Molly and Cole.”
She glanced at Ethan’s weak ankle, where his brace probably showed beneath the hem of his jeans, and cocked her head, obviously curious but too polite to ask. But when she lifted her gaze, her attention caught on his prosthetic hand and her mouth dropped open. She quickly looked away. “I...I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry, Ethan. Are, um, you all right now?”
Unwanted attention.
Shallow sympathy.
Platitudes.
He gritted his teeth. After leaving the hospital he’d encountered those reactions at every turn and he wanted none of it.
He knew he was fortunate to still have both legs. Fortunate to finally be walking unaided and to have a state-of-the-art prosthesis that once again made him a functional human being.
But he still struggled with a surge of instant resentment whenever he saw pity in someone’s eyes. So many soldiers had to deal with far worse and deserved sympathy far more than he did. And all too many—some of the best friends he’d ever had—never had a chance to come home.
He shrugged off her sentiment and surveyed the puppy pandemonium. “This is like trying to count minnows in a bucket. How many of them are there?”
“An even dozen.” She hitched her chin toward the garage. “The mom was a stray and she was brought here just before she whelped.”
“Quite a bonanza.”
Hannah picked up two of the black-and-white-spotted pups and snuggled them against her neck. “Not a record litter, but more than enough. She’ll be spayed before I try to find her a good home.”
Molly looked up at Hannah. “They all live here?”
“Not in the house. The mom and pups have a fenced cage, heat lamp and warm bed in the garage, with a doggie door out to the fenced backyard. I bring the little guys inside for socialization several times a day and give their poor mom a break.” Hannah grinned at her. “Now that you’re here, you can help me play with them. I have more friends to show you, but that can wait until I do chores.”
Now Molly had a half dozen of them crawling over her feet and when she crouched, they tried to lick her face. “You have even more puppies?”
“No...not right now. But there are some other rescues in the barn.”
The joy of the romping puppies was too infectious not to elicit a smile and Ethan found himself chuckling at their antics. “Isn’t there a humane shelter in town?”
“On the other side of the county, but not anywhere close to Aspen Creek. So there are several of us who try to help. We have fund-raisers every year to help with food, spaying, neutering and vaccinations.”
Two of the pups started chasing each other around the living room, skidding on the hardwood floors and braided rugs. One of them scrambled onto the sofa and scattered the stacks of paper like falling leaves in a stiff wind.
Molly’s smile faded as she focused on the big cardboard box by the sofa. “‘Rob and Dee’s home office and health records,’” she read aloud. She turned to give Hannah an accusing look. “You’re snooping through my mom and dad’s stuff?”
Hannah paled at her harsh tone. “I wasn’t snooping, honey. Cynthia collected all of their important papers and sent them to me. They came this morning. We’ll need your health records and other documents for when we get you set up with a doctor, dentist and the school.”
Molly’s mouth hardened. “Well, if you think you’re gonna find money or something, good luck with that, because we didn’t have any. Sometimes Mom didn’t have enough money for the grocery store. Not even at Christmas, and that made her cry.”
Ethan tensed, remembering all the times his brother had asked him for loans. Had things been even worse for them than Rob could admit? “I’m so sorry. If I’d known...”
Hannah glanced up at him with a frown, then gave the children a faint smile. “You know what? I think these pups would love to run and play with you two in the backyard. Want to grab your jackets? Then after you’re done playing, I want you to meet Penelope.”
She had the kids bundled up and the whole lot of them—exuberant puppies and kids—outside in minutes. He’d watched every move and still didn’t know quite how she’d done it with puppies running everywhere and Cole too excited to stand still.
Cole ran around the yard with the pups, though Molly perched on a picnic table and chewed her fingernails, doing her best to look bored.
Despite the awkward history between them and his determination to take the kids back to Texas, Ethan couldn’t help feeling a newfound appreciation for Hannah as they stood on the back deck to watch the melee. “You’re good with them.”
