The Twin Bargain. Lisa Carter
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ErmaJean waved her hand. “Lucy already likes Ethan. And Stella doesn’t dislike him.”
Her slower-to-warm child had trust issues. Amber winced. Just like Stella’s mother.
“I have no doubt, in her own time, Stella will be no more able to resist Ethan’s charm than the rest of us.”
Amber had a sinking feeling ErmaJean was right. Seeing him in the hospital lobby yesterday had brought back so many feelings. Feelings she believed she’d forever buried in the graveyard of her heart.
“What do you say?” ErmaJean opened her hands. “Shall we give it a go, Amber dear?”
Spent of objections, Amber took a deep breath. “We have a deal. But if either of the girls are unhappy... Or their presence hampers your recovery... Or—”
“Or pigs fly.” ErmaJean smiled.
Amber didn’t smile. “Or Ethan decides to bail.”
ErmaJean inclined her head. “Then we’ll reevaluate the terms of our arrangement. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Amber swallowed. “For now.”
What choice did she have? None, if she truly wanted to finish school and make a better life for her children.
ErmaJean plucked her cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll give Ethan the good news. And you two can work out the details.”
Would this be good news to Ethan?
Soon after, the physical therapist bustled into the room, and Amber said goodbye. Heading down the corridor, she had the disquieting thought she’d just agreed to something irrevocable. Had she set up not only herself but her children, too, for more pain?
This would not turn out well. This could not turn out well at all. Where she and Ethan were concerned, it never had.
It had taken Ethan most of the morning to put a new battery in Amber’s car. At his grandmother’s suggestion, he’d called and asked Callie’s father, Nash Jackson, to give him a hand in shuttling Amber’s vehicle to Truelove. Ethan had been afraid the fiftysomething apple grower might refuse to ride with him on the Harley. But he needn’t have worried—the young-at-heart grandfather considered it a hoot.
“Folks who think they’re too old to enjoy an adventure might as well call it a day.” A twinkle gleamed in Nash’s eye. “As for me? I aim to embrace each and every opportunity that comes my way.”
Ethan wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he conceded the years had been kind to Callie’s father. He hoped to be as fit and happy as Nash when he was that age. Although happiness had somehow always eluded him, always seeming just out of his reach.
Back at the house, in the broad light of day, he concluded adaptations would have to be made to the old family home to accommodate his grandmother’s injury. Since neither the Harley nor Grandma’s sedan was suitable for the task, he arranged for the local home building supply store to deliver lumber that afternoon.
He enjoyed rummaging through his grandpa’s old workshop behind the house for the tools he’d need in making the house more accessible.
The next morning, he got an early start. With his grandmother scheduled to be released late in the afternoon, he had to get the project finished. The day promised to be crazy busy, and he worked steadily through the morning hours.
Only when his stomach growled did he realize it was already lunchtime. Screwing the bolt in place, he surveyed his handiwork. He shook the handrail. Unlike Amber’s flimsy porch, the ramp was sturdy enough to get his grandmother in and out of the house safely.
If only every problem was as easily fixed. The nurse had gone over his grandmother’s recovery plan with him yesterday. He would need to bring his grandmother to physical therapy sessions and follow-up appointments with several medical professionals.
The nurse had carefully explained what tasks he’d have to oversee regarding his grandmother’s care. Issues neither he—nor he suspected Grandma—had considered in making the decision to finish her recovery at home and not in a rehab facility. The nurse had raised delicate questions regarding personal hygiene and privacy.
With his hand, he worked the kinks out of his neck. The last few boards could wait until after he ate. He could do with a break and a hearty meal.
Brushing the sawdust from his jeans, he got on the Harley and headed to the Mason Jar. Kill two birds with one stone. He’d fill his belly and get the details from Amber about twin-sitting.
After all these years, it was almost surreal being back in town. But the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
He parked outside the diner, stowing his helmet. And he took his first good look around the hometown he’d left behind without a second glance. Believing he’d never return to this Podunk mountain town.
Yet here he was. But wiser, or so he liked to think. In the decade since high school, more than once life had taken him to the proverbial woodshed.
Not much appeared to have changed in Truelove, North Carolina. Same old town square. The shops on Main. The river that bent around the town like a horseshoe. And the perpetual smoky mist off the surrounding Blue Ridge.
Old mountains. Almost as old as Ethan felt after surviving four tours in a war zone. Though not as jagged as the mountains where he’d hunted terrorists—and been hunted in return. The sharp peaks of the Appalachians were blunted, worn away by time.
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