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“And I need to get back to my store. The day after Thanksgiving is usually really busy. But I hope you’ll all enjoy the meal.”
Hannah walked them out to Keeley’s SUV. “This was so kind of you—going to all this work. I can’t thank you enough. I know the kids missed having their Thanksgiving dinner yesterday.”
“Poor kids,” Sophie said in a somber tone. “I can’t imagine how tough this year has been for them. And what’s with the uncle? The kids were down in Texas and got on their plane just yesterday, yet he’s already made a trip from Dallas up here? What’s really going on?”
Hannah darted a look back at the house. “It’s...a long story, but basically he says he wants custody.”
Keeley gasped. “Isn’t it a little late?”
“And what about the kids—uprooted then being hauled right back?” Sophie chimed in. “That’s just not right.”
“I agree. Totally. And I plan to fight him every step of the way, if it comes to that. But he is their uncle, so I can hardly shove him out the door...at least not yet.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “You’re going to let him stay here?”
“We haven’t discussed how long he’ll be in Wisconsin or where he’ll stay. I hope he’ll be leaving in a day or so. But, no, I don’t think it’s appropriate for him to stay here. I don’t have an empty guest room now, anyway.”
Keeley gently gripped Hannah’s forearm. “You’d better get back inside before the food goes cold. But call me—day or night—if you need help or just need to talk. Okay?”
“And me, too,” Sophie whispered. “This place is so isolated, now I’ll wonder if you’re even safe here.”
Hannah smiled at them both. “I taught personal safety classes at the community college for four years, remember? And I have 9-1-1 on speed dial. We’ll be fine.”
But as she watched them drive away, Ethan’s words slipped into her thoughts.
He’d mentioned an explosion.
She shivered, imagining all he’d gone through. The pain. The loss of a limb and thus the loss of his life as he’d known it. The surgeries and long, painful therapy. Probably even PTSD.
Given his proximity to that explosion and the extent of his physical damage, had he also suffered a TBI—traumatic brain injury? Unfortunately it was all too likely.
A soldier could fully recover from a TBI...or face disabling symptoms for a lifetime.
During the clinical phase of her physician’s assistant program she’d seen one such problem firsthand when a vet with severe mood swings sent an orderly to the floor at her feet, out cold.
Ethan had the right to his privacy, but she needed to keep two young children safe. So she would keep on her guard. Watch him carefully. And she would talk to him privately when the moment seemed right.
But in the meantime, she would also keep her cell close at hand.
* * *
Ethan watched the kids as they sat at the table pushing bits of turkey around their plates, their eyes downcast. Neither had eaten enough to keep a sparrow alive.
Were they remembering Thanksgiving dinners from years past, when their family was still complete? How could that grief and loss ever be repaired?
“This is the best meal I’ve had in a dozen years,” he said reverently into the strained silence as he forked up another bite of mashed potatoes and rich gravy. “Everything is delicious.”
Molly looked up from sculpting a mountain range with her potatoes and frowned at him. “A dozen years. Really?”
He nodded. “I’ve been stationed in various places overseas all that time and almost never made it back for a Thanksgiving dinner in the States. Your aunt Hannah has some mighty nice friends to go to all this effort for you.”
Tears started down Cole’s face. Hannah moved to his side and wrapped him in a gentle embrace. “I know coming here is a big change, after all those months at Aunt Cynthia’s. And I know how tough it is, honey.”
Had Ethan’s words about home-cooked meals reminded him of his mom? Cole’s thin shoulders shook and his tears flowed faster. “I...I just want my m-mom back,” he whispered brokenly. “A-and my dad.”
“I know you do, sweetheart. I miss your mom a lot, too. And I know that right now you both feel hopeless and overwhelmed.” Hannah gently rubbed his back. “You’ll never forget your parents and you’ll never stop loving them. But in time, I promise it will become easier.”
Molly fixed her gaze on her brother, her lower lip trembling. She abruptly pushed away from the table and fled to her room, slamming the door behind her.
Ethan had led men into battle. He’d faced off against the enemy too many times to count. But now he stared after the girl with a searing sense of helplessness. “Should I go after her?” he asked finally.
“Not just yet. Give her some time.”
Cole pulled away from Hannah’s embrace and slouched lower in his chair, draping an arm over Maisie. The old dog hadn’t moved from his side since they’d all sat for dinner and now she sidled even closer to rest her head on his lap. “Can I go to my room?”
“Would you like some pie first?” Hannah ruffled his hair. “Sophie brought pumpkin, cherry and a French silk—that’s like a creamy chocolate pudding. Or, I have chocolate chip ice cream.”
“No thanks.”
Ethan watched the boy trudge away, the retriever at his side, then stood to help Hannah clear the plates and serving dishes. “I wish there was something I could do, right now, to make them happy.”
“What it will take is prayer and love, and lots of time. But time is elusive, because it’s all so relative. Now they’re going through this year of firsts—the grief of birthdays and holidays without their mom and dad.” Hannah began emptying the leftovers into plastic containers and loading the serving dishes and glassware into the dishwasher. “They will adjust, but every big life event will bring it all back. Confirmation. Graduation. Weddings. It just goes on, because they’ll wish they still had their parents to share those times. But you know all that—Rob said you two lost your mom early, right?”
“She walked out on us when we were in grade school and we only saw her once after that. She moved to Maine, remarried, then died at thirty-five. Jay-walking, of all things.”
“But your grandpa raised you, correct? Rob used to say he was quite a pistol—and the grumpiest person he’d ever met.” She looked over her shoulder while stowing the leftovers in the refrigerator. “It must not have been easy for you boys.”
“One way to put it, I guess.”
After living with a single father who’d had a short temper, little interest in parenthood and a career involving a lot of travel, the parade of live-in babysitters had finally ended when Dad ditched Rob and Ethan at their grandfather’s house. Ethan could still hear Dad yelling that he couldn’t cope with them any longer and he wasn’t going to try.
“I’m so sorry,” Hannah murmured as she began filling the sink with hot, sudsy water.
He shrugged. “My parents never should have married each other, and having two kids couldn’t cement bonds that didn’t exist. But I guess these things happen.” He eyed the flatware and the stack of plates. “Can those go in the dishwasher?”
“Not the good china or silverware.”
“Do you want me to wash or dry?”
She glanced at the oversize clock above the sink. “Thanks, but it’ll take just a minute to wash these few things and I’ll let it all air-dry. Anyway, it’s already getting dark. Are you heading into town for the night? Or the airport?”
“Town.”
She washed and rinsed a plate and gently rested it in the drying rack, then took a deep breath and turned to face him. “And then what? Do you have any plans?”
When he’d talked to one of his aunt’s attorneys in Dallas and insisted that he wanted to pursue custody, she’d confirmed what Hannah had told him earlier today. There would be monthly visits by a caseworker to see how well the children were adapting to Hannah and their new home before permanent custody would be granted—probably after ninety days if all the reports were good.
She’d also warned him that he could petition for custody, but if the children were well settled and content in their new home, it was unlikely that the court would agree to any further disruption of their lives.
But it was the attorney’s additional words that kept playing through Ethan’s thoughts.
The situation would be evaluated—especially regarding how well the children were bonding—and with whom. Which led him to believe that he still had a chance.
He was a stranger to them, so that was now a moot point. But the attorney had suggested he spend as much time as possible with the children—without upsetting them or challenging Hannah in any way—prior to the first thirty-day custody evaluation.
If he wanted any chance at all, the children needed to be comfortable with him, and want to join him in Texas.
Hannah looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer.
“I’m staying in town, at least until Christmas.”
Her jaw dropped. “In Aspen Creek? Don’t you have a home in Dallas...or somewhere?”
“Just a condo—but it’s always been more of a storage unit than a place to live.” He shrugged. “Right now I’m on medical leave, so there’s no place I need to be. A month or so here would be as good as any place else.”
“To do what? Have...a...a vacation?”
“Of sorts.”
Her face pale, she fidgeted with the dishcloth, wiping at the already spotless kitchen counter. “You have a place to stay?”
“Reservations at a B and B on this side of town that also has some year-round cabins. I haven’t checked in yet, but the off-season rate was better than any of the other places I found online.”
“Y-you arranged all of this before even flying north?” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “What else have you planned?”
“I want to spend time with my niece and nephew.”
“Now—when they’ve barely arrived here? Is that fair to them?”
“It’s time I got to know them—something I failed to do before. As their uncle, I understand I have that right, but I won’t interfere.”
“But they’ll be in school starting this Monday, up through December twenty-third.” Her voice took on a desperate note. “They’ll be in school all day. They’ll have homework and will be spending time with kids they’re going to meet at church and school...”
“Understood, but surely I can see them now and then. Isn’t it good for them to know more about what little family they have left? I promise I won’t be in the way.”
“Not much,” she muttered under her breath. “Why not come later, when they’ve had a chance to get settled? Maybe Easter.”
“Rob and I had a childhood filled with acrimony and irresponsible adults who didn’t much care about us. That isn’t going to happen to Molly and Cole.”
“There will be no such acrimony and lack of responsibility here, I assure you. I love these kids.”
Love? Maybe. But he knew all too well how flighty and irresponsible she could be, and he wasn’t going to take any chances. “I need to make sure my brother’s children have a much better life than he and I did. I owe him this much.”
She sagged against the counter and he could see the realization dawning in her eyes. “Which means you are serious about wanting custody. This trip is all about you trying to win them over before permanent custody is finalized.”
“I want what’s best for them, Hannah. A loving, stable home, in a familiar place. Except for their dad’s misguided move to Oklahoma last year for another job that didn’t pan out, they have always lived in Texas.”
“A nice sentiment. But will you really follow through—or will you lose interest and foist them off on some nanny when you go overseas again? You did say that your return to active duty isn’t yet on the horizon, so you obviously hope to leave again.” She blew out a slow breath. “I don’t mean to keep bringing up the past, but I seem to recall that your good intentions don’t always amount to much. You once made some very serious prom ises to me.”
“A whirlwind romance when we were too young to know better.”
“You were already in the service, which implies responsibility and honor to me. You made promises and then you not only reneged on them but you disappeared without a word. Without an apology. Without explanation. Not even a goodbye. I was packed, ready and excited, Ethan. And you left me standing on the courthouse steps. Alone.”
“There’s nothing I can do to change that now. I only wish it was possible to make up for what I did.”
She gave a short laugh. “Not necessary. Eventually I realized two things—that I was lucky to have escaped marriage to a man I couldn’t trust. And, I escaped repeating history.”
“History?”
“My dad was military, as you might remember,” she said bitterly. “He ran our home like a barracks, and woe to anyone who challenged his authority or failed to measure up. But he’d always promised to come home—no matter where he was sent or what he did.” She turned away.
“But he couldn’t keep that promise?” Ethan asked gently.
“A new recruit went crazy on the base one nice, sunny day. Shot Dad six times in the chest while shouting nonsense about war and the evil army officer who was sending him home. I was just twelve, visiting Dad’s office on Career Day. I saw him die. I thought I would be next. But then his killer turned the gun on himself. The whole floor was awash in blood and I was too scared and shocked to even move.”
“I’m so sorry, Hannah.”
“I swore then that I wanted nothing more to do with military life when I grew up. Living with Dad had been tough, but seeing him die because he wore a uniform was a thousand times worse. Military families are amazing, strong people, and we all owe them so much for what they sacrifice every day. But I’m just not that strong—and I could never handle that life again.”
He’d seen the horrors of war for over a decade. Dealt with his nightmares as best he could. But he could not imagine what that terrible day had done to an innocent child.
“So you see,” she added softly, “you jilted me. You made me a laughingstock in town. But you also saved me from a life of living with my worst fears. I won’t ever trust you again on any count, but I guess I also owe you my thanks.”
Chapter Four (#uf348bec7-23e0-5c3e-8dd1-0b36010d3b55)
“So this is downtown Aspen Creek, guys. All of the shop owners have been decorating for this weekend, and the Christmas Committee has been putting up decorations in the town square.” Hannah parked at the north end of Main Street in front of the shoe store and looked over her shoulder. “Next, I want to buy winter boots for you both, then we’ll walk down to the square so you can see the crew decorating the pine trees. If you aren’t too tired after supper, we can come back for the lighting ceremony and a sleigh ride.”
Cole perked up at that. “With horses?”
“Yes, indeed.” She grinned at Cole and his sister, happy that her plans for the day seemed to be working out. An introduction to the festive downtown area, a yummy lunch somewhere and then maybe a movie might be a good start at helping the two kids feel at home. She hoped. And surely they’d enjoy the Christmas lights and carolers tonight—Aspen Creek’s kick-off weekend for the holidays.
“A stable near town always brings a pair of dappled gray Percherons and a beautiful sleigh for evening sleigh rides,” she continued. “They’re here Saturdays and Sundays during the Christmas season. I love hearing those heavy brass jingle bells coming down the street.”
Cole unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward. “Can we go more than once?”
“Of course we can.”
Molly directed a disinterested glance out the window, then picked at the snowflake design on her new wool mittens. “Can’t have a sleigh. No snow.”
Hannah laughed. “You’re right about that. When there isn’t any snow, they bring a pretty carriage with a fringed roof and big wooden wheels with red and white spokes. If the weather forecast holds, we might have enough for a real sleigh for tomorrow.”
Her cell phone chirped and she grabbed it out of her purse. Her happy mood vanished. Ethan. She hesitated then took the call with a resigned sigh. “Yes?”
“You mentioned going into town today. Can I treat you all to lunch somewhere?”
She glanced at her watch. She’d gone through the children’s clothing boxes this morning to check on what they needed for the colder climate and then she’d taken the kids shopping. After an hour at the Children’s Shoppe, both of them now had extra sweatshirts and warm pullover sweaters, goose-down jackets and snow pants in their favorite colors, with mittens to match.
But she still needed to buy them snow boots and sleds, and take them down to the town square. If there was enough time, they could also drop in on Keeley’s antiques store for cookies.
