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The Twin Bargain
Lisa Carter


A mutually beneficial temporary arrangement… But can they keep it strictly professional? Nursing student Amber Fleming couldn’t be more stunned when ex-marine Ethan Green makes an offer: he’ll babysit her twin girls if she cares for his injured grandmother. Amber knows it’s temporary. Ethan isn't one for roots—or their hometown. But his steadfast caring has her wanting more than friendship. And with help from Amber’s mischievous twins, can they risk becoming a forever family?







A mutually beneficial temporary arrangement...

But can they keep it strictly professional?

Nursing student Amber Fleming couldn’t be more stunned when ex-marine Ethan Green makes an offer: he’ll babysit her twin girls if she cares for his injured grandmother. Amber knows it’s temporary. Ethan isn’t one for roots—or their hometown. But his steadfast caring has her wanting more than friendship. And with help from Amber’s mischievous twins, can they risk becoming a forever family?


LISA CARTER and her family make their home in North Carolina. In addition to her Love Inspired novels, she writes romantic suspense for Abingdon Press. When she isn’t writing, Lisa enjoys traveling to romantic locales, teaching writing workshops and researching her next exotic adventure. She has strong opinions on barbecue and ACC basketball. She loves to hear from readers. Connect with Lisa at lisacarterauthor.com (http://www.lisacarterauthor.com).


Also By Lisa Carter (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)

Coast Guard Courtship

Coast Guard Sweetheart

Falling for the Single Dad

The Deputy’s Perfect Match

The Bachelor’s Unexpected Family

The Christmas Baby

Hometown Reunion

His Secret Daughter

The Twin Bargain

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


The Twin Bargain

Lisa Carter






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09755-0

THE TWIN BARGAIN

© 2019 Lisa Carter

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Note to Readers (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)


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“I can’t ask you to take on the care of two very lively—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. It’s important that you finish school.”

“Be that as it may, you will have enough on your hands taking care of your grandmother. I don’t want anyone’s pity.” Amber’s cheeks pinked. “You have no idea how humiliating it is to always be on the receiving end of charity.”

Something tore in Ethan’s heart. Then inspiration struck. He leaned forward. “What if we were to make a mutually beneficial deal?”

She gave him a look. “You and your deals.”

“What if we could do each other a favor?”

Her forehead creased. “I don’t understand.”

“Grandma is going to need more care than I can provide. What if you helped her? In turn, I could watch the girls so you can finish school.”

“You’re proposing an exchange of services?”

“Exactly. No charity involved.”

She studied him for a long moment. “I guess there’s no harm in giving it a try.”


Dear Reader (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0),

Welcome to Truelove, North Carolina—Where True Love Awaits, set in the breathtaking Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.

The course of true love doesn’t always run smooth, but never fear. The Truelove Matchmakers will make sure everyone finds their happily-ever-after.

Amber is afraid that she’s messed up so badly she will never find love again. Yet when she chooses forgiveness, she finds true freedom.

For Ethan, trust doesn’t come easily, either. Because he finds the courage to open his heart to Lucy and Stella, he and Amber find their happily-ever-after as a family.

No matter how tragic the past or present, God can take what is broken and make it into something beautiful. He delights in bringing beauty out of brokenness. For truly, God is the happily-ever-after for which we were made.

I hope you have enjoyed this journey with Amber, Ethan, Lucy and Stella. I would love to hear from you. Email me at lisa@lisacarterauthor.com or visit www.lisacarterauthor.com (http://www.lisacarterauthor.com).

In His Love,

Lisa


And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

—Romans 8:28


Contents

Cover (#u6a6a852f-fbb7-5ea3-8e35-8a4064b1c636)

Back Cover Text (#u41f62542-14f1-5115-89b8-1ccd063d85d8)

About the Author (#u7695283a-170f-520f-8d64-d37ad01dca6b)

Booklist (#ue822c920-db9b-5c83-8db8-15cd8368ab1a)

Title Page (#ub34d712c-0869-5664-aa88-3c5603791e3b)

Copyright (#u7f244d2d-14bf-55a3-a289-d79afbd2cd94)

Note to Readers

Introduction (#ub7541eae-77dd-5080-90f2-7ed4a154c521)

Dear Reader (#u83a36c7b-b001-5aa5-adb8-57758bc0ab6c)

Bible Verse (#ub59c1031-eae7-5594-a38e-c6d11a0d916d)

Chapter One (#u4c30d0d5-cce4-5817-b7c9-c47edca84a3f)

Chapter Two (#ue5d946fe-8a9d-5779-9004-0255e7cfaebb)

Chapter Three (#ube506e0c-5771-509e-9a74-9ad64d4cc24b)

Chapter Four (#u4f192288-f40e-5ace-9705-253d11771038)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)


Ethan Green had feared this day coming, almost as long as he could remember.

The double glass doors whooshed shut behind him. An antiseptic smell assaulted his nostrils. On the intercom, someone paged a doctor. An orderly pushed a squeaky cart past Ethan.

Heart pounding, he headed straight for the information desk. “Can you give me the room number for ErmaJean Hicks, please?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute.” The volunteer answered the ringing phone. “Truelove Medical Center...” Ignoring him, the woman scrolled through the computer monitor.

He bit back his frustration. Beads of sweat peppered his forehead. A dozen scenarios, each one worse than the last, flashed through his brain. What had happened to Grandma Hicks?

A broken hip? A stroke? A heart attack?

Suppose she’d passed? Suppose he’d missed saying goodbye? Suppose he never got to tell her how much he—

“Ethan? Is that you?”

Amber Fleming’s blue eyes—the same blue as her hospital scrubs—widened and locked on to his. Something entirely painful zinged inside his chest.

Her hair the color of winter wheat, she remained as tall—or in her case as small—as he remembered. But other than her ponytail, the pesky tagalong he recalled from high school was long gone. A pink stethoscope draped around her neck, she looked very professional.

Ethan flushed. “You’re a nurse?”

She touched the photo ID badge clipped to her tunic. “Nursing student.” She tilted her head, setting the ponytail aquiver. “Matt didn’t tell you?”

Ethan tore his gaze from the silky blond hair brushing her shoulder. “No, he didn’t.”

He and Amber’s older brother had been best friends since they were kids. Ethan wondered what else Matt had failed to mention. His eyes cut to the bare finger of her left hand. No ring.

What was with him? This was Matt’s little sister. This was Amber.

He cleared his throat. “GeorgeAnne Allen left me a message this morning to drop everything and come to Truelove. She didn’t say what happened, only that my grandmother had been admitted to the hospital.”

“It must’ve taken you all day to get to the mountains from the coast.” Amber’s eyes darted to the volunteer, still on the phone. “I was headed to see Miss ErmaJean. Let me take you there.”

He swallowed. “Tell me the truth, Amber. Is Grandma dying?”

Amber laid her hand on his leather jacket. “She’s going to be fine, Ethan.” She led him through a pair of automatic doors. “Miss ErmaJean took a tumble at her house and broke her leg.”

Ethan followed Amber down the white-tiled corridor. “But she’s going to be okay?”

“Her leg has already been cast.” Amber pushed the elevator button. “But when she fell, she also hit her head. The doctor wants to keep her at the hospital for a few days as a precaution.”

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.

“I want to talk to her doctor.”

Amber glanced at her watch. “Unfortunately, he’s probably left for the day, but if you talk to the duty nurse, she can put you in touch with him. Same info I’ve already given you, though.”

He frowned. “Why were you informed about my grandmother’s condition and not me?”

Pressing the third-floor button, she pursed her lips. “He told me because I was here.”

He stiffened at her implied rebuke.

The elevator doors closed.

“I got here as soon as I could.”

Ascending, the elevator lurched.

She crossed her arms. “When was the last time you visited Truelove? It’s been ten years, right?”

He didn’t remember Amber being this bossy or pushy. “I was deployed.”

“But you’ve been out of the Marines for four months, Ethan.”

“Not visiting Truelove isn’t the same as not seeing Grandma. She’s visited me in Wilmington several times.” He jutted his jaw. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Where were you when Miss ErmaJean got the flu? When her identity was stolen? When—”

“I get it, Amber,” he growled. “Since I returned to North Carolina, I could’ve been around more, but I’ve been looking for work.”

Elevator dinging, the doors opened onto the third floor.

She stepped out. “But not looking where you have family and friends?”

He followed on her heels. “You know how I feel about this one-stoplight town. Grandma Hicks understands. Why didn’t she call me when the other stuff happened?”

“Because your grandmother doesn’t want to infringe on your life.” Amber glared. “She doesn’t want to relinquish her independence or be a burden.”

He scowled back. “Grandma Hicks isn’t a burden. She knows I’d do anything to help her.”

“Here’s your chance to prove it. Until she’s mobile again, she is in no shape to live alone.”

He wasn’t used to Amber being ticked with him. When they were younger, she’d sort of had a crush on him. He never acted on it because she was Matt’s little sister. Kind of an unspoken guy rule. That and he enjoyed breathing. Amber’s dad was overprotective.

“The doctor says she’ll need physical therapy. The cast probably won’t come off for six weeks.” Amber’s eyes narrowed. “No doubt, you’ll be long gone by then. But Miss ErmaJean has lots of friends who will look out for her.”

Amber’s low opinion of him stung.

“I’ll take care of my grandmother.” He squared his shoulders. “This incident settles it. I’m moving her to Wilmington.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that, Ethan.”

He drew himself up. “I can do that, Amber. And I’ll make sure she gets the best of care.”

Amber shook her head. “She’ll hate it. She’ll miss Miss GeorgeAnne and Miss IdaLee. Her house. Her church. The mountains.”

“You and those old women should mind your own business.” He cocked his head. “I’ll take care of Grandma.”

Hurt flashed through those sky-blue eyes of hers. Her lips trembled. And he felt about two inches tall.

She was only looking out for his grandmother. But she’d hit a nerve. He wasn’t his deadbeat dad. He’d never be him. Grandma Hicks had practically raised him by herself.

Amber stopped outside the second door on the right. “Here’s her room.”

He’d been harsh. Anger had always been his fallback, rather than fear.

“I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I didn’t mean to bark at you. Thanks for showing me the way to Grandma’s room.”

There were purple shadows under Amber’s eyes. She looked tired. And, at twenty-six, older than she should. Nursing school must be exhausting.

She bit her lip. “I was headed here, anyway.”

Ethan steeled himself for what he’d discover on the other side. But what he found wasn’t anything like what he expected.

His heart in his throat, he pushed through the door to find his rosy-cheeked grandmother lying propped against the pillows. And two little ash-blonde girls—twins?—standing on either side of the bed.

The sight of his pleasantly plump grandmother in the hospital bed caused his heart to swell with unexpected gladness. Apple round, his grandma was what he liked to think of as fluffy. Her salt-and-pepper hair was no whiter than when she’d visited him over the winter.

“Ethan?” Catching sight of him, Grandma Hicks’s face lifted. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you.”

Behind him, Amber slipped inside the room. “Lucy. Stella.” She held out her hand.

The little girl in lavender let go of the bedrail and ducked behind Amber. The one in pink maintained her hold on the steel bar and peered at Ethan.

“Grandma, are you all right?” He took her blue-veined hand. Her skin felt warm to the touch.

She squeezed his fingers. “GeorgeAnne shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine.” An uncustomary emotion clogged his throat. “And you’re not a bother.”

“I’ll be right as rain, give or take a few weeks.” She patted his arm. “Can’t keep a good woman down for long.”

The little girl in pink came around the end of the bed, bypassing Amber. “Gigi got hurt.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Gigi?”

His grandmother’s cheeks dimpled. “Closest I could get to Great-Gran.”

Ethan frowned. “Who do these children belong to, Grandma?”

“Me.”

His gaze flicked to Amber and then to the child beside him. His mouth opened and closed. The adorable little girl gave him a bright smile, and his breath caught. She was the spitting image of Amber at that age.

Sky-blue eyes. From the tip of her tiny nose and stalwart little chin, same as her mother. A mini-Amber.

Grandma Hicks reached through the railing and touched the child’s hand. “Lucy, this is my grandson, Ethan. The one I told you about.”

Out of the corner of her lashes, Lucy looked at him. “Hey, mister.”

Sunshine. Warmth. And a sense of well-being flooded over him.

“It—it’s Ethan.” He cleared his throat, glancing from his grandmother to this slender princess of a child. “Telling tales about me, Grandma?”

“Only the truth.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“The good things. The stuff you don’t like to think people know.”

He tried to wrap his mind around a grown-up Amber with children of her own. “Matt never told me you have daughters.”

“Like on the ark, they came in twos. This is Stella.” Amber stepped aside, giving him a clearer look at the child hunkered next to her mother. “Stella, this is Ethan, Uncle Matt’s best friend.”

Pert nose. Dimpled chin. Identical to her sister. Yet somehow not. A person entirely in her own right.

The notion of Amber being married left him with an unsettled feeling in his gut.

“You just missed Callie, Amber.” Grandma smiled. “I didn’t want her to miss the golden photography hour for her client’s engagement pictures so I sent her off. I knew you’d be here soon.”

“I was so relieved Callie was available to pick up the girls from school this afternoon. She texted me she’d dropped the girls off here. I came over as soon as I finished my shift at the diner. She said the twins were worried.” Amber sighed. “I know they feel so bad about what happened this morning.”

Ethan frowned. “The girls were there when Grandma fell?”

Grandma rested her palm on Lucy’s silken head. “Lucy and Stella were wonderful. They called 911, like their mommy taught them to do in an emergency.”

Ethan stared at his grandmother. “You’ve been babysitting Amber’s children?” His voice rose.

“We’re not babies.” The silent twin let go of her mother and folded her little arms across her chest. “We’re four years old.”

“Of course you’re not babies, Stella darling. You are my two most favorite big girls.” Grandma Hicks threw him a warning look. “They also managed to call their honorary aunt Callie. I’m so thankful she was able to get to my house, even before the ambulance arrived. You remember Callie, don’t you, Ethan?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. Callie’s family owned the Apple Valley orchard. Callie and Matt had dated in high school.

“She’s Maisie’s mommy,” Lucy said.

Callie Jackson had a kid, too? She’d been Amber’s best friend since they were children. A couple of years older, Ethan and Matt had spent a great deal of their growing-up years at either the orchard or the Fleming family white-water rafting business.

“The Jacksons still own the orchard, but she’s Callie McAbee now.” A smile tugged the corners of his grandmother’s lips. “And did the Double Name Club ever have a time getting her and Jake together. But all’s well that ends well.”

His thoughts on the Double Name Club—more notoriously known as the Truelove Matchmakers—were best left unvoiced. GeorgeAnne Allen. IdaLee Moore. ErmaJean Hicks.

The sixtysomething ladies were infamous for poking their powdered noses where they didn’t belong. They took the town motto—Truelove, Where True Love Awaits—a little too seriously.

Apparently, gentle, auburn-haired Callie Jackson had been their latest victim. He felt a surge of empathy for the unknown Jake McAbee. Fortunately for Ethan, he’d always been too much of a black sheep for the ladies to ever target him.

Then as if on cue, the uncontested leader of the matchmaker pack, Miss GeorgeAnne, poked her nose into the hospital room. “Reporting for duty.”

Amber bristled. Angular and bony, GeorgeAnne had that effect on people. “I think it best if I take the girls home myself, Miss GeorgeAnne.”

Married, divorced or spinster, the “Miss” was an honorary title of respect bestowed on any Southern lady who was your elder. No matter if the “Miss” was elderly or not.

“Nonsense. You needn’t miss your class.” The old woman’s glacier-blue eyes sparked over the twins. “I figure if nothing else, the girls and I can sort a bucket of bolts at the hardware store.”

Lucy’s eyes rounded.

Stella’s rosebud lips flattened. “No bolts, Miss G’Anne.”

Good for her. He felt a ridiculous, misplaced pride. Another Truelove rebel in the making. GeorgeAnne wasn’t exactly his definition of maternal. He felt bad for the girls.

Amber’s face tightened. “I should’ve never allowed you to talk me into this, Miss ErmaJean. The girls are my responsibility. Why did I ever think I could—”

“It’s been a trying day, but I won’t let you throw in the stethoscope over this little bump in the road.” Grandma waved her hand. “If you hurry, you can still get to class on time.”

Ethan rocked on his heels. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’d say your leg in a cast is more than a bump in the road, Grandma.”

His grandmother lifted her chin. “What’s going on here is that Amber’s come too far in her nursing studies to quit now.”

“Miss ErmaJean—”

“It’s settled.” Grandma Hicks shrugged. “At least for tonight. We’ll work out something. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.”

He grimaced. “Why can’t your husband take care of the girls, Amber?”

Lucy tugged at his jacket. “We don’t have a daddy, Efan.”

And the bottom fell out of his stomach.

GeorgeAnne pursed her thin lips. Grandma looked like she wanted to strangle him. Without meaning to, he’d put his foot in it.






The shock at seeing Ethan again was not dissimilar to the stinging jolt Amber had felt when once she overturned one of her father’s rafts into the freezing cold water of the river.

But the sensation was the same. Fighting her way to the surface, gasping for air. Her heart in overdrive. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real.

Amber shook herself slightly, trying to clear her muddled thoughts. Ethan Green wasn’t an illusion. Standing beside Miss ErmaJean’s hospital bed, he was as real and solid as the granite rocks of the North Carolina mountains.

She tried not to gape at him. The broad shoulders, the well-muscled chest beneath the jacket, the six-pack waist that tapered to his jeans. This man she didn’t know—the man who’d fulfilled the youthful potential of the boy she’d once loved so impossibly. This man robbed her of coherent thought.

Amber wasn’t sure why her brother hadn’t told Ethan about the last five years of her life. When he and Matt left for basic training, she believed she’d never see Ethan again. His leave-taking had been so final. He’d been so exultant about finally gaining his freedom from the small-town life he hated.

Freedom. A concept she barely remembered. She tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. His gaze followed the motion of her hand. And something fluttered like the wings of a butterfly inside her rib cage.

Ethan’s gold-flecked hazel eyes were as intense as ever. She swallowed against the rush of feeling. What was wrong with her?

He’d surprised her, that’s all. She hadn’t expected to see him here. Not after so much time. No big deal.

Especially on a day like today when her plans to make a better life for her children were falling to pieces.

She endeavored to get her traitorous heart to settle down. No easy task when it came to the boy she’d had a schoolgirl crush on since she was... Eleven?

As far back as memory served, there’d been her, Matt, Ethan and Callie. Inseparable. Or that’s what she’d believed until Ethan made a deal with Matt, convincing her brother to also join the Marines after graduation.

She and Callie had been left behind. At sixteen, she’d never dreamed being left behind would become the story of her life. She finished growing up alone, the hard way. Experience, a bitter teacher.

Why was he staring at her? Self-conscious, she smoothed her hand over her scrubs. Well aware the years hadn’t been kind. But he could at least pretend not to look so...so shocked.

Was it her appearance or single motherhood that shocked him the most? Her ex-husband, Lucy and Stella’s father, had been an irresponsible jerk, but she worked hard to make sure the twins never suffered for her errors in judgment.

She fingered the end of the stethoscope. “Girls, tell everyone good-night.”

“Night-night, Gigi.” Lucy smiled at Ethan. “You, too, Efan.”

Stella glued herself to Amber’s leg.

“I was kidding about the bolts.” GeorgeAnne planted her hands on her bony hips. “I’ve heard you two girls like milkshakes. I wasn’t misinformed, was I? Thought we might swing by the drive-through on the way to your house.”

Lucy immediately abandoned Ethan. “I wike vaniwaa, Miss G’Anne.”

Stella made a face. “I like strawberry-vanilla-chocolate ice cream.”

GeorgeAnne’s mouth quirked. “Who doesn’t?”

Amber quickly calculated how much money her depleted wallet contained. Not enough for milkshakes. “I’m sorry, girls, but—”

GeorgeAnne raised her hand. “My treat. Got nothing but a passel of grandsons. I think it’s time to see how the other half lives.”

Amber warmed toward the often sharp-tongued, overly brusque woman. “Thank you, Miss GeorgeAnne.” For not making her feel like such a charity case.

The older woman moved toward the door. “The train for milkshakes is leaving now. Anyone going to hop on board?”

“Me!” Lucy grabbed hold of her sister’s hand. “Stehwaa, too.”

Amber’s heart sank. Stella looked like she’d rather eat live worms. Her babies had made so many sacrifices so she could finish school and get a good job.

Doing her best to ignore Ethan and her zinging pulse, Amber ushered the odd trio to the elevator.

Until Miss ErmaJean offered to take care of Lucy and Stella, she’d struggled to juggle her waitress job, single parenting and nursing school. It was good of Miss GeorgeAnne to babysit the girls, but with ErmaJean out of commission, tonight would have to be her last class.

The twins and Miss GeorgeAnne stepped into the elevator.

Only two months left till graduation. But there was no other option. She’d have to withdraw from the program.

Lucy waved goodbye. Stella glowered. As the elevator doors closed, the rest of Amber’s life stretched out before her in a bleak panorama.

Endless shifts at the Mason Jar. The broken-down trailer. Never quite making ends meet. Once again, it would be her girls who suffered the most for her mistakes.

Her shoulders slumped. She was so tired of battling life alone. “Is this all there ever will be for me and the girls, God?” she whispered.

She passed her hand over her face. It wasn’t like Amber to be melancholy. She was a fighter. Scrappy, Ethan used to say. But right now, she felt the fight had been beaten out of her.

Yet she wasn’t alone. She had wonderful friends like Miss ErmaJean and Callie. God had never left her. He wouldn’t fail her now, even with this seemingly insurmountable setback.

After all this time, seeing Ethan revived memories and dreams she’d believed long buried. Emotions she had no time, energy or right to feel. And Ethan wanted to take ErmaJean away for good?

It felt like the final straw. His grandmother had become a mentor, confidante and friend. If only there was a way to convince him to let Miss ErmaJean convalesce at home.

Who was she kidding? Amber couldn’t get her own life on track. Why did she think she had the right to tell anyone else how to live theirs?




Chapter Two (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)


With the departure of GeorgeAnne, Amber and her daughters, Ethan turned again toward his grandmother. “You were watching the girls when you fell, Grandma?”

“It wasn’t their fault.” At the hint of censure in his voice, his grandmother pressed her lips together. “And nothing makes me happier than seeing their bright little faces.”

Of late, when he’d called she’d seemed distracted—not all there. Half the time, she forgot to return his calls. And after a friend’s mother was diagnosed with dementia, he’d begun to fear his beloved grandmother was slipping.

Ethan hugged her now. Reassured by the usual lavender scent that always clung to her. Somehow he’d feared she’d be frailer. Or her mind not as sharp.

But Grandma wasn’t any frailer than he remembered. Her mind... Well... ErmaJean Hicks would never be accused of thinking like everybody else.

“How did you fall? Were you dizzy? Did you lose your balance?”

She fluttered her hand. “I was in a hurry. Tripped over my own clumsy feet on the back steps.”

“It makes me sick to think about something happening and me not being here, Grandma.”

She scanned his face. “A situation easily remedied.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future lately.”

She clasped her hands to her heart. “Oh, Ethan, I’ve been hoping, praying, you would.”

He pulled a chair close to the bed. “Remember how much fun we had the last time you visited me in Wilmington?”

Confusion darkened her eyes. “Ice cream. Sand between my toes. Life is a beach.”

“You know I like working with my hands.”

“Granddad always hoped one day you’d take over—”

“A buddy of mine is starting his own boat repair business and has offered me a job.”

Her hands fell to her lap. “I’m guessing boat repair means the job is on the coast.”

“You said it yourself, Grandma—life is a beach.”

“I misspoke. Vacation is a beach.” Her expression clouded. “Life is home. I was hoping when you finally decided to settle down—”

“Truelove was never an option for me, and you know it.”

She gnashed her teeth. “What I know is you’re stubborn, obstinate and aggravating.”

“Home is family. And you’re the only family I’ve ever had.”

She lifted her chin. “GeorgeAnne, IdaLee and I have some ideas on how you could remedy that situation.”

The sheer thought of the matchmakers plotting to pair him to some Truelove girl was almost enough to send Ethan running for his Harley motorcycle. Or break out in hives.

Instead—as a Marine he’d been taught not to flee in the face of peril—he found his grandmother’s hand through the bedrail. “Now that I’m stateside for good, I want us to spend more time together.”

Her lips pursed. “That will be difficult with you six hours away.”

Ethan set his jaw. “Which is why I’d like for you to relocate to the beach.”

She pulled her hand from his. “Out of the question.”

“Hear me out, Grandma. I’ve done my research. There is a great senior adult village near my apartment. You’d love the cottages. A sweet deal, right on the water. You’d have your own little garden for your flowers. I’ve got photos on my—”

“Absolutely not.” She steepled her hands in her lap. “My life is here, Ethan. My friends. My church. The family business. They’re all here.”

What family business? Although his grandmother had continued to work on upholstery projects here and there, his grandfather’s furniture restoration workshop had gathered dust since his death.

Ethan shook his head. “You’ve worked hard your entire life. With this new job, I can take care of you. You can retire and enjoy life for a change.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m enjoying life right where I’m planted.”

“You’re the friendliest person I’ve ever known. You’ll make lots of friends. There are amazing churches at the beach.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And you would know that how, Ethan?”

Okay, she had him there. He hadn’t sat in a church pew since he left Truelove.

Grandma’s chin wobbled. “Besides, I could never leave your grandfather.”

Ethan took a long, measured breath. “Granddad has been dead a long time. I don’t like to think of you living here alone with me so far away.” He gestured at the bed. “Changes need to be made.”

Grandma stiffened. “I have good friends to watch out for me.”

“The house has to be getting too much for you. And you must get lonely.”

“Are you sure it’s not you who’s lonely?”

This wasn’t going like he’d envisioned. Since leaving the Corps, he had been lonely. Actually, the empty feeling inside his chest had begun before he left the service.

“I do miss you, Grandma. Which is why you moving closer is a wonderful idea.”

Her mouth down-turned. “Maybe for you. I’m not the decrepit old woman you think I am, Ethan Todd Green.”

She only used his full name when he’d gotten on her last nerve.

Her eyes glinted. “If I need or want your help, I’ll ask for it.”

“Grandma, I’m concerned about you.”

Her lips thinned. “If this accident was your only reason for finally visiting me, then you’ve wasted a trip home.”

Ethan opened his hands. “I wanted to see you. I thought you’d be excited by my news. And I was worried about you.”

Her face creased. “Why were you worried?”

“You’ve sounded so...” He swallowed. “So distant on the phone. Not like yourself.”

Like he was losing her. His grandmother, the only anchor he’d ever known. Hence, his determination to put his plan into action.

“Other than this bum leg, I’m great.” His grandmother tilted her head. “I told you I’ve been busy, Ethan. I’ve been watching Amber’s kids so she can finish her nursing degree.”

“Why did no one tell me that Amber is married?”

His grandmother gave him a cockeyed glance. “Didn’t realize you were interested in Amber’s marital status.” She moistened her lips. “And it’s married as in the past tense. When she got pregnant with the girls—”

“What happened, Grandma? To Amber and...” He made a face. “The guy.”

“You mean her husband?” For a second, something appeared to amuse his grandmother. Then her smile faded. “Tony told Amber he didn’t sign up for parenthood.”

Just like his own deadbeat excuse for a father. Anger roiled in Ethan’s belly.

“I still don’t get how this involves you.” He frowned. “And I’m surprised Amber asked you to take care of her children.”

“Which part comes as a surprise to you?” Grandma arched her brow. “That I adore children or that I’m still capable of taking care of them?”

Somewhere he and Grandma had gotten off on the wrong foot. She appeared determined to take offense at every turn.

“Amber didn’t ask. But juggling work, school and the kids...” His grandmother’s shoulders rose and fell. “It was too much. Something had to give.” She smiled at him. “So I decided to give. I’ve had so much fun with them.”

Ethan fisted his hands. “Where’s their father?”

“Tony declared himself tired of being married. Abandoned her before the girls were even born, so Amber came home where she belonged.” Grandma Hicks raised her eyebrow. “To the people who love her.”

An unmistakable challenge gleamed in his grandmother’s bright blue eyes. In her opinion, Amber wasn’t the only one who needed to come home. But besides Grandma, there was no one else who loved him.

“You won’t reconsider moving to Wilmington?”

She gave him the Look.

“We’re not done with this conversation, Grandma.”

She sniffed. “You might not be, but I am.”

“Grand—”

“Don’t you Grandma me.” She laced her hands on top of the coverlet. “I’m Truelove born. I’m Truelove bred. And here I’ll remain until I’m Truelove dead.”

Exactly what he feared most.

“With the cast, you’re not going to be able to take care of yourself for a while. You have to come to Wilmington with me.”

“Don’t assume you know what’s best for me. I don’t have to do anything but die and pay taxes.”

He gritted his teeth. “Grandma, please. Be reasonable.”

“You’re the one being unreasonable.” She stuck her nose in the air. “You’ve seen me. I’ll mend. Put your conscience at ease. I have plenty of friends who will look out for me during my recovery. You’re under no obligation to stay. Feel free to get on that death-mobile of yours and head for the surf.”

He tightened his jaw. “You’re kicking me out? Out of town and your life?”

The lines in her face deepened. “No, honey. I told you when your dad left and then your mom remarried—we’re lifers, you and me. Together forever.”

“Just not in the same place at the same time, though?”

“Try to understand, Ethan.” His grandmother’s voice softened. “I have responsibilities here and a full life I’m not ready to abandon.”

He ran his hand over his head, spiking his hair with his fingers. How could he persuade her to come with him? What could he do to change her mind?

“I’m going to pray on the situation and I suggest you do the same. Go to the house. Maybe in the morning, you’ll be able to think more clearly.”

He scrubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t him who needed to think more clearly. But she was right. It had been a long day for both of them. Better to let both their tempers cool before either of them said or did something from which there might be no retreat.

Ethan gave his grandmother a quick peck on the cheek. “Tomorrow,” he growled. “Decisions have to be made.”

Hand to her forehead, she gave him a snappy salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”

“I was a marine, not navy.”

She winked at him. “Good night, honey. I love you.”

He sighed. “I love you, too, Grandma.”

It was dark when he left the hospital. And despite being April, once the sun set behind the Blue Ridge Mountains, the night turned cool. It was only a short drive to Grandma’s rambling bungalow.

Bone tired, he let himself into the house and stumbled toward his old bedroom. Not bothering to switch on a light or undress, he threw his duffel onto the floor, laid his cell on the nightstand and crawled beneath the quilt.

Hours later, he awoke to an insistent buzz from his phone on the nightstand. Groggy, he checked the incoming text message. Emergency. Call me. Now. Grandma.

Since when did ErmaJean Hicks text? Although if anybody in her generation would learn to text, it would be his talk-to-a-signpost grandmother. Throwing off the covers, he slung his legs over the side of the bed.

He dialed her number. Surely if she’d taken a turn for the worse, a doctor or nurse would be calling him, not his grandmother. His temples throbbed.

“Grandma?” he barked into the phone. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Raking his hand over his face, he willed his pulse to settle. “You scared me to death.”

“GeorgeAnne just texted me. Amber never made it home. After her night class ended, she ought to have been home by ten-thirty at the latest. GeorgeAnne fell asleep on the couch waiting for her. Or she would’ve contacted me sooner.”

He leaned forward, the cell tucked between his shoulder and his ear. “Shouldn’t we call Amber’s dad, Dwight?”

“Amber wouldn’t thank us for involving him. There’s other stuff going on I haven’t had time to share with you.”

“What about calling the sheriff’s office?”

“She’d be mortified if I brought the police into this. She’s probably in the school parking lot trying to get that old clunker of hers started.”

“All night?” His voice rose. “What if she’s stranded on some deserted mountain road?”

Suppose her brakes had failed? His gut seized. The stretch of highway between the campus and town was notorious for its switchbacks and sheer drop-offs.

But it would do no good to mention that. His grandmother was worried enough already.

“I—I shouldn’t have bothered you.” Her voice quavered. “But GeorgeAnne and I thought it might be better if it was you who went looking.”

“You did the right thing, Grandma.” His bare feet hit the floor with a thud. “I’m heading out now.”

His grandmother emitted an audible sigh. “Thank you, Ethan. This may change your plans for tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow.”

“The girls have already lost one parent, Ethan. You—you know what that’s like.”

He did know. Phone pressed against his ear, he hurriedly dressed. “Don’t worry. I’m on it. I won’t stop looking until I find Amber and bring her home.”

But what if something unthinkable had happened to Amber?

Within minutes, he clambered aboard his motorbike. Darkness still hovered like an oppressive blanket over the ridge. Heading away from town, there were no streetlights on the isolated mountain pass. He felt as cut off as the stars shimmering dully in the fading night sky.

As much as he dared, he accelerated around the winding curves. It would do no one any good if he wrecked. It’d be daylight soon. If he didn’t find Amber at the college, he’d retrace the country road. But what should he look for?

Broken branches? A damaged railing? Signs that a vehicle had plunged into a chasm.

Don’t go there.

Gripping the handlebars of the bike, his knuckles turned white. As he pressed on, wisps of light streaked the horizon.

And like a film reel, those carefree, happy days in high school replayed in his mind. The Fabulous Four—Matt, Amber, Amber’s best friend, Callie, and himself. The summer rafting expeditions. Football games.

Yet one image dominated his memories. A seemingly insignificant moment. A beautiful spring day. Amber and Callie had been sixteen. The four of them had hiked to a nearby meadow for a picnic.

Birdsong had called Matt and Callie away toward the gurgling melody of the fast-flowing river. Lounging at the foot of a tree, at the sound of Amber’s laugh he’d glanced up. In the grass on the edge of the quilt, she’d found a blue jay feather, its hue not dissimilar to the shade of her eyes.

Sunlight streamed around her, lightening her hair. Causing it to glow. Tucking the feather behind his ear, she’d smiled at him.

And that was what he remembered when he thought of Amber—sunshine, warmth and a sense of well-being. Happiness...

“Where are you, Amber?” he whispered. “What’s happened to you?” The wind tore his words away.

But he knew. Same as what happened to him. Life had changed his sunshine girl into a woman he barely recognized.

Heart pounding, he veered into the college campus. Please let her be okay. Please let her—

Under the security light in the parking lot, he spotted what qualified as an old clunker.

Veering into the empty space alongside the lone vehicle, he hopped off his bike. He dashed over. The glare of the streetlight silhouetted a single figure inside the car.

He tried the handle. Locked. “Amber?” He pressed his face to the window.

Was she okay? Leaning against the headrest, she appeared asleep, but frightened by her stillness, he rapped on the glass.

Bolting upright, her arms flailed. She grabbed for the steering wheel.

“Can you hear me, Amber?”

She whipped around at the sound of his voice. Forehead furrowed, she shrank into the seat. He was disconcerted by the stark fear in her eyes.

Ah. The helmet. Ripping it off, he held it under his arm and backed off a step. “It’s me.”

Recognition dawned in those beautiful eyes of hers. “Ethan?” Her breath fogged the window. “What are you—”

He motioned.

Springing the lock, she thrust open the door. “Where am I?” Gulping, she glanced around.

Disliking looming over her, he crouched in the opening, afraid to touch her. Afraid to further startle her.

Her gaze darted from the darkened building to his motorcycle. Checking her wristwatch, she sucked in a breath. Panic flitted across her face. “I’m supposed to be at the Jar. The girls—”

“GeorgeAnne’s with them. She and Grandma sent me to find you.”

Her lower lip quivered. “I spent the entire night in my car?” Tears like dewdrops trembled on the edges of her lashes. “My girls must be so worried. So—”

“Slow down, Amber. They were asleep when Grandma called. They probably don’t even know you aren’t there.”

“I was supposed to take the girls to Before School Care. I’m already late. I can’t afford to lose this job...”

The desperation in her voice hit him like a blow to the chest. “Do you feel unwell? Did you have car trouble?”

She shook her head. Like corn silk, her hair glistened in the glow of the streetlamp. “I remember thinking I’d just close my eyes for a second—” She reached for the key chain dangling from the ignition.

Amber cranked the key, but the motor didn’t turn over.

Rising, his knees creaked. “Turn on the cab light.”

“Why?” But she flicked the switch on the domed light above her head.

Nothing happened. Just as he’d suspected.

“Maybe the bulb’s burned out.”

He rested his forearms against the door frame. “The battery’s dead, Amber.”

She tried starting the engine again. “It can’t be dead. Give me a minute.”

He shook his head. “The car’s dead. Come on, I’ll take you back to Truelove.”

“I don’t need your help. I can drive myself.”

So stubborn. So obstinate. So aggravating.

Wait, hadn’t Grandma said the same about him yesterday?

“Your car will have to be towed.”

Her mouth went mulish. “I can’t afford a tow truck.” Then her shoulders sagged. “I’ve failed my children so much.”

Bands of pink and gold brightened the sky.

“Give yourself a break, Amber. Working full-time, going to school at night. Single parenting. Something’s got to give. You aren’t Superwoman.”

She stared through the windshield. “I’m not a super anything.”

It absolutely killed him to hear her talk like that about herself. And reverting to form, when he couldn’t fix something, he got angry.

“Get out of the car. I’m taking you home.”

Her expression turned furious. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ethan Green.”

Widening his stance, he crossed his arms over his jacket. “Unless you want to miss your entire shift, I suggest you chuck that boulder-sized pride of yours and get on my Harley.”

If looks could kill, he figured he would be struck stone dead on the spot.

“Suit yourself—sit here all day...” Feigning nonchalance, he raised his palms. “Or after I drop you off, I could install a new battery for you.”

Amber jutted her chin. “Seeing as you are so eager to leave Truelove in the dust again, I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. It’s what friends do for each other.” He cocked his head. “We’ve always been friends. Or had you forgotten?”

She gave him an inscrutable look. “I haven’t forgotten.”

Guilt pricked his conscience. He should have kept in touch. But he’d been determined to put his own bad memories behind him when he joined the Corps. Amber had been unintentionally jettisoned, too. Collateral damage.

Yet if there was anything from his broken childhood he would’ve wanted to carry with him, it would have been those wonderful times with the Flemings. They’d been good to him. Embracing him like one of their own.

When he’d been seven, his dad had abandoned him and his mom, and they’d lived with his grandparents. Later when his mom moved away into a new life, Grandma had offered to let him stay with her so he could finish high school with his friends. It was a pattern with his grandmother. Maybe that was why she was trying so hard to help Amber finish her schooling.

“Grandma’s still at the hospital. I can’t leave today, anyway. A few more days in Truelove won’t matter.”

The corners of Amber’s lovely mouth pulled downward. “I guess it won’t.”

He stepped aside. “Grandma will relish having another chance to give me what for.”

Slinging a backpack over her shoulder, Amber eased out of the car. “Your grandmother adores you. That’s why she’s so tough on you.”

He took the backpack. “So we’re good? You and me?”

Their gazes locked. Something tightened in his chest when she didn’t answer right away. Finally—

Her lashes lowered, sweeping her cheeks. “We’re good, Ethan.”

But clicking the fob to lock the car, she gave him a nice view of her back.






To say that having fallen asleep in her car was an embarrassment would have been an understatement. That Ethan had been the one to find her was a complete humiliation.

And to have to depend on him—on any man—was merely the latest tier on a cake of mortification she’d been building since Tony proved her father right about everything.

In two months, she would earn her nursing license. Over the last year and a half, she’d consoled herself with the thought of getting a good-paying job. Showing her father how wrong he’d been. Standing on her own two feet.

But everything had been contingent on finishing nursing school. After yesterday, it was a goal that had dissipated as quickly as morning mist over the mountains.

Amber shot a surreptitious look at Ethan typing into his cell. Her girls depended on her to make a better life for them. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let them down. No matter what it took. No matter if, in the process, she half killed herself.

She shuddered, recalling other late nights over the winter where she’d almost fallen asleep at the wheel. Driving the treacherous mountain roads, oftentimes through whiteout conditions. Several times she’d come close to losing control of the car. And then what would’ve become of her children?

Putting away his phone, Ethan stowed her backpack in a compartment on the motorcycle. “I texted Grandma. Explained what happened. Told her we’re on our way to Truelove.”

Amber nodded.

“I’m glad you have a jacket.” He climbed on the bike. “Doesn’t feel like spring yet.”

Strapping on the extra helmet, she took the seat behind him. “I’m ready.”

“Hold on,” he yelled above the roar of the engine.

Biting her lip, she locked her arms around his waist. And they were off.

Last fall, after Callie and Jake got married, Miss ErmaJean had offered—insisted—on taking the girls to school each morning while Amber reported for the early-morning shift at the diner. ErmaJean had also cared for Lucy and Stella the two evenings a week Amber attended class. And each weekend during Amber’s clinicals.

But Miss ErmaJean was an old woman. Lucy and Stella weren’t her responsibility. If anything ever happened to Amber, her brother, Matt, would be their guardian. Yet he was often unreachable for weeks at a time on a classified mission. As for her father?

The glossy, evergreen leaves of rhododendron flashed by on either side of the mountain road. Wind whipped her hair across her eyes. The early-morning chill stung her cheeks.

Her father had never met the twins.

She pressed her face into Ethan’s buttery soft, brown leather jacket.

You make your bed hard, you can lie in it. That’s what her father had said when she told him she was going to marry Tony. It had been the biggest mistake of her life. And lying in that hard bed was what she’d been doing ever since.

At the crossroads on the outskirts of Truelove, Ethan slowed. The decibel level of the motor lessened measurably. “Where do you live?”

When he saw where she was living, it would be the final indignity.

Following her directions, he turned onto a secondary road. Midway up the mountain at the third gravel driveway, he pulled in beside Miss GeorgeAnne’s sturdy pickup truck and cut the engine.

He did a quick scan of her dilapidated trailer.

She clenched her teeth. “This is all I can afford.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Letting go of him, she stepped onto the ground. “You didn’t have to say anything.”

To her dismay, he hopped off, too. Retrieving her pack, he followed her to the porch steps.

She reached for her backpack. “You don’t have to—”

The railing wobbled under his hand. He looked at her again. And refused to surrender the pack.

She chewed her lip, wishing the yard would swallow her. But no chance of that. She headed up the steps to the door. The porch landing shook under his weight, and he muttered something under his breath.

GeorgeAnne flung open the door. “I was so worried. I didn’t know what else to do but get ErmaJean to call Ethan. I figured you wouldn’t want me to call your—”

“It’s okay, Miss GeorgeAnne. I’m so, so sorry you had to spend the night here with the girls.”

GeorgeAnne’s gaze flicked to Ethan. “Staying with Lucy and Stella is no trouble.”

Ducking his head, he stepped inside the low-ceilinged living room.

Amber did a slow three-sixty on the worn carpet. “Where are the girls?”

GeorgeAnne patted her shoulder. “Haven’t stirred since I put them to bed last night. They’ll be awake soon and find their mommy waiting to wish them a good day at school.”

Amber pinched her lips together. “The manager at the Jar isn’t the most understanding of men. He’s probably sacked me.”

GeorgeAnne pushed her wire-frame glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “The girls and I put an emergency plan in motion until you can get to the diner.”

Ethan leaned the long length of himself against a kitchen cabinet. “You and the twins put a plan in motion?”

Amber prayed the cabinet didn’t give way under him. Most things in the trailer were held together with little more than duct tape and prayer. “Miss GeorgeAnne means her girls.”

His eyes widened. “The matchmakers?”

GeorgeAnne looked down her long nose at him. “We had a conference call this morning about Amber’s situation.”

“A conference call.” He eyed the older lady. “Seriously?”

“Your generation does not have the market cornered on technology or intelligence. Don’t forget, it was my generation that sent a man to the moon.” She jabbed her finger in his chest.

He winced. “Ow, Miss GeorgeAnne—”

“And invented computers, which your generation can’t pull your head out from.” She jabbed him again. “Did the Marines teach you nothing? Stand up straight, young man.”

He straightened. “Yes, ma’am.”

Pushing him aside, GeorgeAnne opened the cabinet. “IdaLee has the diner under control. She said not to rush. To get there when you can.”

Amber’s mouth fell open.

GeorgeAnne removed several coffee mugs from the cabinet. “Her nephew-in-law is the manager.”

Amber slow-blinked. Twice. “Miss IdaLee is waitressing in my place at the Jar this morning?”

Ethan hooted. “I’d pay good money to see that.”

GeorgeAnne shot him a reproving glance, but her lips twitched. “You could, except ErmaJean texted she wants to talk with you ASAP. I’ll take Amber to work.” His grandmother’s lifelong friend lumbered over to the coffee maker sitting on the chipped linoleum countertop. “After she has a chance to shower and change clothes.”

Amber frowned. “I should just go. Now.”

“I believe we’ve both received our marching orders.” Ethan smirked. “Best not cross Miss GeorgeAnne and the girls.”

GeorgeAnne shooed Amber out of the kitchen. “I’ll get the twins to school this morning, too.”

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve...” Amber worried her lip with her teeth. “I promise nothing like this will ever happen again, Miss GeorgeAnne. I’m so sorry—”

“Stop with the apologizing,” Ethan growled.

Her eyes welled. Angry with herself, she swiped at the tears with her hand.

Ethan’s face fell. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s okay.” She was going to lose it in front of him if she didn’t put distance between them right this minute. “It’s just the both of you—your kindness...”

Before she fractured completely, she fled down the hall to her bedroom. Shutting the door on the man who’d once been her fondest adolescent dream. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the door. Steeling herself to what could never be.

Perhaps the saddest words of all.




Chapter Three (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)


After Amber disappeared down the hall, Ethan rounded on GeorgeAnne. “Why does kindness make Amber cry?”

“Because she isn’t used to it.” The older woman’s face shadowed. “She’s forgotten what it’s like.”

“I can’t believe her father would let her live here. Why didn’t Grandma Hicks want to call Dwight?”

“Dwight is a proud man. Too proud to admit he made a mistake.” GeorgeAnne opened a cabinet over the coffee maker. “They’ve been estranged ever since Amber ran off to marry that no-good rafting guide.”

“What about her friends?”

“Callie has helped—we all have—as much as Amber will let us.” GeorgeAnne pointed to a coffee can higher than her reach.

Ethan pulled the can off the shelf and handed it to his grandmother’s dear friend. “Dwight’s not the only one too proud to admit when he’s wrong.”

GeorgeAnne scooped coffee grounds into the filter basket. “Amber knows she made a terrible mistake when she married Tony.”

Despite the exterior of the trailer, Amber’s kitchen was spotless. He could’ve eaten off those shiny floors of hers. The interior was immaculate if threadbare. There were no photos of the jerk who deserted Amber and left her to raise his kids alone.

“Neither Dwight nor Amber will budge an inch.” GeorgeAnne filled the glass carafe with water from the kitchen faucet. “Nor ask the other for forgiveness.”

Ethan grunted. “Leaving both of them miserable.”

“That’s not the worst of it.” GeorgeAnne’s mouth pursed. “What this is doing to the twins is—”

At the other end of the trailer, a door banged.

GeorgeAnne’s face shifted into a semblance of what for other people constituted a smile. “Speaking of...”

And not unlike a herd of elephants, the two small girls, their blond hair in pigtails, stampeded across the living room.

“Sounds like there ought to be at least a dozen of them, doesn’t there?” GeorgeAnne gave him a wry look. “Sunrise to bedtime, those girls are full of energy.”

Barefoot, they bounded toward the kitchen in their Disney princess pajamas. Catching sight of him, the twins skidded to a stop.

Lucy—the bolder of the two—sidled closer. “Hey, Efan.”

Stella, the aloof one, glowered at him. GeorgeAnne bustled around the tiny kitchen, dishing out cereal. The milk jug wobbled in Stella’s grasp. In the nick of time, he grabbed hold and steadied the jug. Tilting it slightly, he helped her pour the milk over her cereal.

“Thank you,” she whispered, not raising her eyes from the bowl.

Across the table, Lucy smiled at him, dimples in her cheeks. And despite his resolve to remain unaffected, he found himself pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Tell me about school.”

Lucy waved her spoon. “We have art today. Stehwaa’s favowite. I wike when we do maf.” Crunch. Crunch. Swallow. Gulp. “And...”

He grinned. “Slow down, Lucy Lou.”

Mini-Amber giggled. “My name’s not Woocy Woo, Efan.”

“Of course it is.” He angled toward the quiet twin. “And you’re Stella Bella.”

Lucy dissolved into giggles. “She’s not Stehwaa Behwaa.”

Shooting him an unamused look, Stella continued to chew.

Amber hurried into the kitchen. “Losing your touch with the ladies, Ethan?” GeorgeAnne handed her a coffee mug, and she took a sip.

Smiling, he shrugged. “It’s a tough crowd. But seriously?” He looked at Amber. “I don’t know how you have the energy to do everything you do.”

Amber ambled around the table, bestowing a kiss on the forehead of each girl. “It’s not hard when you have two little morning glories to help you greet each day.”

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Rising from the table, he fished it out and frowned at the text. “My grandmother. I guess I should head out.”

“Bye, Efan.” Lucy fluttered her fingers. “Make it a good one.”

He laughed. “You, too, kid.” He ruffled her hair.

Amber bit back a smile. “That’s what I tell the girls every morning.”

“Goodbye, Stella Bella.” Strangely reluctant to leave, for the briefest of seconds he laid his hand on her small, delicate shoulder. “Have a good day at school.” And he considered it a triumph when she didn’t instantly shrug him off.

It occurred to him he might not see the girls or Amber ever again. Not if he could convince his grandmother to leave town when she was released from the hospital. Suddenly, it seemed as if the oxygen in the trailer had vanished.

Amber got up from the table. “Let me walk you out.”

“I guess this is goodbye, then,” he rasped.

Stumbling to the porch, he grabbed the railing for support. That was a mistake that nearly pitched him over the side to the ground below.

What kind of bum of a landlord would leave a young mother and two little girls to live in such conditions? An entire punch list of items needed to be tackled at the trailer. His stomach knotted. But he wouldn’t be here to make sure everything was properly fixed.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue, Ethan.” She wrapped her light gray cardigan around herself against the crisp chill of the April morning. “It—it was good to see you again.”

Never seeing them again unsettled him in a way he wouldn’t have previously believed possible. He had only the briefest acquaintance with the twins. But already, they’d somehow managed to entangle themselves in his heart.

Kind of like...kudzu. Or morning glories.

And then there was Amber.

His chest heaved. “It was great seeing you, too, Amber. And meeting your girls.”

“Thank you for making the effort to reach out to Stella.” She nudged her chin toward the trailer. “Lucy is so outgoing, people naturally respond to her, but her sister—”

“Just because she’s quiet and reserved, Stella should never be consigned to the shadows.” He jutted his jaw. “You, Lucy and Stella deserve only sunshine, blue skies and happy days.”

“Lucy and Stella, yes.”

The bone-weary defeat in Amber’s eyes almost undid him.

She squared her too-thin shoulders. “Please tell your grandmother goodbye for me and the girls. It will break their hearts when I tell them she’s moving away, but I understand, Ethan, that you have to do what you think is best.”

Her blue eyes pooling, she hastily stepped inside the trailer. Leaving him standing on the stoop, staring at the closed door. Questioning if he really knew what was best for his grandmother. Best for himself.

Best for anyone.






Ethan no sooner walked into his grandmother’s hospital room than he realized Grandma Hicks was loaded for bear. And he, apparently, was the bear.

“Before I can be released, the nurse said she has to go over instructions for at-home care with you. Or a responsible adult.” His grandmother sniffed, as if the likelihood of him proving a responsible adult was slim to none. “But we need to talk first.”

Hadn’t he said as much last night?

“GeorgeAnne, IdaLee and I have been thinking on my dilemma.”

Uh-oh. Here comes trouble.

“How about we make a deal?” His grandmother’s blue-denim eyes flashed. “I know how you love a good deal.”

Ethan narrowed his gaze. “What kind of deal, Grandma?”

“I promised Amber I’d take care of the girls until she graduates from nursing school in two months.”

He blew out a breath, praying for patience. “You’re going to be in this cast for weeks. Be reasonable. You can’t possibly take care of two little girls.”

She slitted her eyes at him. “But you can.”

He blinked. Twice. “You want me to nanny two little girls?”

That settled it—Grandma Hicks had officially lost touch with reality.

“Don’t tell me a big, strong marine like you is scared of a couple of four-year-olds?”

“I’d be outnumbered,” he grunted.

“You’re a chicken.”

“I am not a—” He pressed his lips together. “Besides, Amber would never allow her children to be...” He made a face. “To be nannied by me. What do I know about kids?”

“You were a kid once.” Grandma Hicks quirked her eyebrow. “Some would say you’ve never grown up.” She gave him a calculated smile. “But there’s nothing like a kid—or two—to mature a man.”

“I don’t know anything about girls.”

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “If that’s not the truth...”

“Grandma,” he growled.

“You want me to give up my entire life and come live with you? My friends. My house. My church. My business.” Her gaze locked with his. “I have a proposition for you. Stay with me in Truelove for two months while I finish my convalescence. Take care of the girls until Amber graduates, and then I’ll go with you to Wilmington.”

He frowned. “You’ll actually sell the house? Pull up stakes? Move away? Without protest?”

“I will.” Grandma Hicks lifted her chin. “Do we have ourselves a bargain, Ethan?”

He stared at her. His plan to have Grandma live where he could watch over her lay almost within his grasp. They could spend more time together.

Ice cream. Sand. Ocean waves.

And all he had to do was to consent to this unorthodox arrangement?

It troubled him how he’d left things with Amber. The crushing burden Amber shouldered alone weighed him down. He knew a lot about being alone.

“Amber will never agree, Grandma.”

Her eyebrow rose. “If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll convince her. She values your insight.”

Since when? But he couldn’t afford to relinquish the prospect of getting Grandma to the coast.

“If I agree to this... And it’s a big if...”

His grandmother’s blue-veined hand smoothed the coverlet. “It will work out, Ethan. Trust me.”

Those words coming from Grandma Hicks’s mouth sent a shaft of terror into his heart, only slightly less frightening than the thought of being in charge of four-year-old twins.

Key word—slightly.






Aghast, Amber stared at ErmaJean. “You want me to leave my girls with Ethan?”

The older lady sat in a wheelchair beside the hospital bed, awaiting a physical therapy evaluation. She’d texted Amber late that morning, asking her to visit the hospital before collecting the girls from school.

Ethan had not only installed a new battery into her car, but also managed to leave it parked at the Mason Jar, ready for her once she finished her shift.

“Don’t look at me as if you think I’m crazy.” Clad in a loose, baby-blue velour jogging suit, ErmaJean’s neon pink leg cast stuck out from the foot piece. “It would be entirely under my supervision, of course. And I think there would be lots of advantages to this short-term arrangement.”

Amber shook her head. “Ethan Green? We’re talking about your grandson?”

His grandmother rested her hands on the armrests. “You must finish nursing training, and I promised to take care of the girls.”

Amber threw out her hands. “I don’t expect you to take care of the girls after you broke your leg.”

“I keep my promises, Amber.”

“But, Miss ErmaJean—”

“How will you finish your studies if someone doesn’t take care of the girls for you?”

She wouldn’t be able to finish. In her mind, she’d already composed the email, tendering her withdrawal from the program.

ErmaJean folded her hands in her lap. “Do you have anyone else to take care of the girls?”

Spring was the big season for Callie’s fledgling photography career. She wouldn’t derail her best friend’s dreams.

Biting her lip, Amber looked out the window over the parking lot. “No.”

“Are you concerned that Ethan would harm or allow harm to come to the girls?”

Her gaze snapped to ErmaJean. “Of course not. Ethan would never hurt the girls.”

Ethan Green might be terminally charming and perennially rootless, but she’d spent enough time with her brother’s best friend to know he had a good heart.

“So you think he’s just not responsible enough to be entrusted with their care?”

“No offense, Miss ErmaJean, but your grandson isn’t exactly the poster boy for stick-to-it-iveness.”

“I’m praying he’ll rise as the occasion demands. I’ve always believed there were unplumbed depths to him.” ErmaJean squared her shoulders. “But I would never hazard Lucy’s and Stella’s well-being if you’re opposed to Ethan twin-sitting them. A mother’s instincts must always be heeded.”

Problem was—it wasn’t so much Amber’s motherly instincts that gave her pause as it was the younger Amber who lived somewhere still inside her heart. The one who’d followed her brother and Ethan everywhere. The girl who believed Ethan hung the moon and then some.

Though after his father deserted him, the sweet boy she’d known had morphed into a cocky heartbreaker. In high school, he’d gone through a string of girlfriends. Then Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em had walked away from Truelove as soon as he’d turned eighteen.

She sighed. “It’s not Ethan I distrust.”

ErmaJean’s eyes flickered. “What was that, Amber dear?”

“Nothing.” Amber raised her chin. “I don’t object to Ethan looking after my girls. But Ethan told me you would be finishing your convalescence in Wilmington.”

“I prevailed upon Ethan to reconsider. That I would recover best at home. He agreed to stay in Truelove for a while.”

Ethan staying in Truelove? The idea sent a funny little pang into her heart. Biting her lip, she reminded herself Miss ErmaJean had said “a while.” A while meant only a temporary stay.

“So you won’t be moving to the beach?”

ErmaJean’s gaze dropped. “If my recovery goes as well as I hope, I’m believing relocating won’t be necessary.”

Amber exhaled. “You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear you’re not leaving.” She clasped the woman’s hand. “I’d feel so lost without you—I mean, the girls would miss having you in their lives.”

“It’s okay to need people, honey.”

She looked away. “That hasn’t worked out so well for me, Miss ErmaJean.”

“You and Ethan are more alike than you know.”

“I never understood what Ethan has against Truelove. Sure, it’s a sleepy, laid-back kind of town. But that’s part of its charm.”

ErmaJean brushed her hand across the shiny grain of the velour jacket. “He connects Truelove with his father’s abandonment. A place of broken endings. He and my daughter are still in touch, but after her remarriage, he never felt welcome in her new life. He associates Truelove with his feelings of being cast aside.”

Perhaps she and Ethan were more alike than she’d realized. She was still working through the feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt Tony’s casting aside triggered within her.

“Why, then, would Ethan even consider staying on and twin-sitting?”

ErmaJean pursed her lips. “Perhaps in his heart, he’s looking for a second chance.”

“At what?”

“Redemption. For a new beginning.” ErmaJean folded her hands. “There’s another advantage to this arrangement. For the girls.”

“What possible advantage to Ethan’s care could there be for Lucy and Stella?”

ErmaJean fixed her gaze on Amber. “The girls don’t spend much time with men, Amber.”

She stiffened. “They spend time with Maisie’s dad, Jake.”

“Not that much. The girls need a strong male role model.” ErmaJean’s eyes softened. “Unless you think your dad might—”

“My father isn’t likely to ever be in their lives.”

Amber tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. She was aware of the statistics. Girls who grew up without a father were far more likely to experiment with a host of unhealthy life choices.

“Ethan is hardly father material, Miss ErmaJean.”

“How about we let him try? Who knows? He might surprise you.” ErmaJean’s too-observant gaze probed Amber’s features. “Or is that what you’re really afraid of?”

Was she afraid of Ethan? Or just afraid of herself? This arrangement would mean the girls wouldn’t be the only ones spending time with him over the next two months. She’d see him, talk to him—every time she dropped off the twins and picked them up.

Panic bubbled inside her chest. “Suppose the girls get too attached. When he leaves, they could be devastated.”

“Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it?” ErmaJean rested her shoulder blades against the chair. “Don’t borrow trouble. Get through school, and let the good Lord work out the rest of the details.”

“What if the girls don’t like him?”

ErmaJean laughed. “When have girls ever not liked my grandson?”

Ain’t that the truth. As in, never. Amber gnashed her teeth.

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.




Chapter Four (#u424c9fdc-f47c-5061-b97e-9228328647c0)


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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