the odd jobs that no one else ever got around to. He’d repaired the front door, replaced a broken tile in the bathroom, and rummaged around in the barn until he found a tube of caulking to use on the windows. He claimed he was doing all these things in repayment for her hospitality.
Molly laughed ruefully about that one. She wasn’t being hospitable by choice.
She piled another package of frozen hamburger into a clothes basket. “Where’d you find that?”
“In one of the camper cabinets.” He set it on the dinette table and fiddled with the knobs. Static and a high-pitched wee-ooh-wee filled the kitchen.
At the unexpected noise, Laney squealed. Molly jumped and nearly dropped the heavy basket.
Ethan gave her a funny look and said, “She’s okay. Cry of the banshee. Remember?”
Molly’s throat tightened. She rubbed at it, forcing her windpipe to remain open. “Check on her.”
She was behaving like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it.
“Okay,” he said quietly, and left the radio long enough to retrieve his daughter.
Molly followed him to the doorway, battling the creeping anxiety. Intellectually, she knew Laney was fine. Emotionally, she had to be certain.
Lord, would she ever stop feeling afraid?
* * *
As Ethan bent to pick up Laney, memories of the last two days flickered through his head. When Molly had avoided holding his daughter he’d chalked it up to another woman without a mother’s instinct. But that didn’t jive with her dedication to the homeless and underprivileged children nor with the woman he’d come to know and like.
Now, understanding clicked into place. In his years as a paramedic he had seen that state of near panic dozens of times. Molly didn’t dislike Laney. She was afraid of her. Though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would fear an infant, the knowledge made him feel better. It also made him more curious than ever. What had happened to make a grown woman so anxious around an infant?
Whatever it was, he wanted to fix it.
Molly was a good woman with a caring heart. She’d proven that a dozen times since he’d barged into her home and started asking favors. During the long conversations and crazy domino game of last night, he’d come to a startling realization.
Somehow he had to reconcile his baby with Molly. Because he wanted to know her better—a lot better.
The idea shocked him no end. He’d thought he was finished with women forever.
Chapter Five
“Y ou can’t go up on that roof. It’s too
slick and dangerous.” Molly’s breath puffed white in the frigid morning, and
sprigs of shiny red hair peeked from beneath her hooded parka.
“Got to.” Ethan rested on his haunches next to
the house
where he had scraped away enough ice to set up the ladder. “That tree is
wrecking your roof. You’ll have a leak the size of Lake Erie.”
Ever since the storm, he had worried about the many trees
surrounding the big old farmhouse. Their strength was sorely taxed by the heavy
layer of ice and all were bent into unnatural positions. Last night one had
finally given way and collapsed onto the roof.
He and Molly had been engrossed in a serious game of Scrabble
when the thundering crash had occurred. He had jumped, awakening Laney, who sent
up a startled howl. Molly had screamed and tossed a handful of potato chips sky
high. This had insulted the lap cat who yowled and stalked out of the room.
They had ended up laughing until tears blurred their vision and
they were breathless. During that moment, he’d stared into Molly’s gentle face
and found himself wanting to please her, to make her laugh more, and most of
all, to chase away the anxiety emanating from her.
Now the small redhead stood in the yard, head tilted back to
survey the storm damage. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty her pale skin
looked in the morning sunlight.
“Do you really think the roof will leak?” Her small teeth
gnawed at a peach-colored bottom lip.
“No doubt about it.” He
Molly laughed ruefully about that one. She wasn’t being hospitable by choice.
She piled another package of frozen hamburger into a clothes basket. “Where’d you find that?”
“In one of the camper cabinets.” He set it on the dinette table and fiddled with the knobs. Static and a high-pitched wee-ooh-wee filled the kitchen.
At the unexpected noise, Laney squealed. Molly jumped and nearly dropped the heavy basket.
Ethan gave her a funny look and said, “She’s okay. Cry of the banshee. Remember?”
Molly’s throat tightened. She rubbed at it, forcing her windpipe to remain open. “Check on her.”
She was behaving like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it.
“Okay,” he said quietly, and left the radio long enough to retrieve his daughter.
Molly followed him to the doorway, battling the creeping anxiety. Intellectually, she knew Laney was fine. Emotionally, she had to be certain.
Lord, would she ever stop feeling afraid?
* * *
As Ethan bent to pick up Laney, memories of the last two days flickered through his head. When Molly had avoided holding his daughter he’d chalked it up to another woman without a mother’s instinct. But that didn’t jive with her dedication to the homeless and underprivileged children nor with the woman he’d come to know and like.
Now, understanding clicked into place. In his years as a paramedic he had seen that state of near panic dozens of times. Molly didn’t dislike Laney. She was afraid of her. Though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would fear an infant, the knowledge made him feel better. It also made him more curious than ever. What had happened to make a grown woman so anxious around an infant?
Whatever it was, he wanted to fix it.
Molly was a good woman with a caring heart. She’d proven that a dozen times since he’d barged into her home and started asking favors. During the long conversations and crazy domino game of last night, he’d come to a startling realization.
Somehow he had to reconcile his baby with Molly. Because he wanted to know her better—a lot better.
The idea shocked him no end. He’d thought he was finished with women forever.
Chapter Five
“Y ou can’t go up on that roof. It’s too
slick and dangerous.” Molly’s breath puffed white in the frigid morning, and
sprigs of shiny red hair peeked from beneath her hooded parka.
“Got to.” Ethan rested on his haunches next to
the house
where he had scraped away enough ice to set up the ladder. “That tree is
wrecking your roof. You’ll have a leak the size of Lake Erie.”
Ever since the storm, he had worried about the many trees
surrounding the big old farmhouse. Their strength was sorely taxed by the heavy
layer of ice and all were bent into unnatural positions. Last night one had
finally given way and collapsed onto the roof.
He and Molly had been engrossed in a serious game of Scrabble
when the thundering crash had occurred. He had jumped, awakening Laney, who sent
up a startled howl. Molly had screamed and tossed a handful of potato chips sky
high. This had insulted the lap cat who yowled and stalked out of the room.
They had ended up laughing until tears blurred their vision and
they were breathless. During that moment, he’d stared into Molly’s gentle face
and found himself wanting to please her, to make her laugh more, and most of
all, to chase away the anxiety emanating from her.
Now the small redhead stood in the yard, head tilted back to
survey the storm damage. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty her pale skin
looked in the morning sunlight.
“Do you really think the roof will leak?” Her small teeth
gnawed at a peach-colored bottom lip.
“No doubt about it.” He
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