shining from his brown ones.
Garrett turned, but never released his hold on Ethan. He’d tell her to get out, she guessed. He’d tell her to go back to the bedroom and stay there until further notice. He’d tell her–
“You mind handin’ me that towel over there, Chelsea? I think I’m wetter than Bubba.”
She blinked, gave her head a shake, then followed his gaze to the stack of towels on the washstand. She reached for one, handed it to him.
“Thanks.” One-handed, he wiped his face and chest dry, then scooped the baby out of the tub and wrapped him up in another big, fluffy towel. The way he held Ethan, the way he cuddled him close…“Do me a favor and take it from here, Chelsea? I need some dry clothes, and then I ought to head out to check on that calf.”
Her eyes burned and her throat closed too tightly for words to emerge as Garrett gently placed her sister’s child into her arms.
“All his things are in that bag next to the cradle. You need anything, just step out onto the front porch and holler.”
She nodded, but mutely. She couldn’t take her eyes from the baby. Garrett turned and walked away, leaving her alone with Ethan. She came as close to crying as she had since her mother died. No tears spilled over, but she felt them burning her eyes. Felt that choking sensation, the spasms in her chest.
“Ethan,” she murmured, and she hugged him close, felt his little fingers twisting and tugging at her hair, smelled him. The little angel. The only family she had left. The best thing Michele had ever done in her short, misery-ridden life. God, how Michele must have loved this baby! “I’ll take care of him,” she whispered, praying somehow her sister could hear her and finally be at peace.
She carried the baby back into his room, walked to the wide, arching window and parted the curtains to stare out at the red-orange sky.
“It’s all right now, Michele. I’ll take care of him, I swear I will. I’ll give him…I’ll give him the things we didn’t have.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she went on, feeling she needed to. She had to reassure her sister as well as herself. She had to speak the promise aloud to make it real, make it solid and attainable.
“He’ll have a house, Michele. With a yard and room to grow. And…and he’ll have a family. I’ll love him so much…you’ll see. And I’ll never, ever hit him, Michele. No one will, I promise you that. He won’t have to hide his bruises before he goes off to school, the way we did. I swear it. I’ll protect him with my life. His grandfather will never even know he exists. And if his father tries to take him from me, Michele, I’ll fight him to the death. I will. He’s not going to grow up to be like them. He’ll be…he’ll be our son, Michele. Yours and mine. I’ll tell him about you. I’ll make sure he never forgets his mother.”
Ethan’s hand tugged at Chelsea’s hair, and she smiled and hugged him again.
J essi wiped the single tear from her cheek and tiptoed quietly back down the hall to her own room. Maybe…maybe she’d been a little hard on that strange city woman. She tried to imagine what her reaction would have been if their situations were reversed. If it had been one of her own precious brothers who’d been killed, and if she’d been convinced of who’d done it. Hell, she’d have been far rougher on the suspect than Chelsea Brennan had been on Garrett. She’d have probably shot first and asked questions later. And that would have been a crying shame, because Jessi never missed what she shot at.
Two things were for sure. Chelsea had loved her sister. And she loved little Ethan. And those were two things Jessi could fully understand.
That other stuff she’d overheard Chelsea talking about…about never hitting, and about hiding bruises…that stuff worried her. She decided to repeat the entire, one-sided conversation to Garrett just as soon as he came back inside.
Meanwhile, it was her turn
Garrett turned, but never released his hold on Ethan. He’d tell her to get out, she guessed. He’d tell her to go back to the bedroom and stay there until further notice. He’d tell her–
“You mind handin’ me that towel over there, Chelsea? I think I’m wetter than Bubba.”
She blinked, gave her head a shake, then followed his gaze to the stack of towels on the washstand. She reached for one, handed it to him.
“Thanks.” One-handed, he wiped his face and chest dry, then scooped the baby out of the tub and wrapped him up in another big, fluffy towel. The way he held Ethan, the way he cuddled him close…“Do me a favor and take it from here, Chelsea? I need some dry clothes, and then I ought to head out to check on that calf.”
Her eyes burned and her throat closed too tightly for words to emerge as Garrett gently placed her sister’s child into her arms.
“All his things are in that bag next to the cradle. You need anything, just step out onto the front porch and holler.”
She nodded, but mutely. She couldn’t take her eyes from the baby. Garrett turned and walked away, leaving her alone with Ethan. She came as close to crying as she had since her mother died. No tears spilled over, but she felt them burning her eyes. Felt that choking sensation, the spasms in her chest.
“Ethan,” she murmured, and she hugged him close, felt his little fingers twisting and tugging at her hair, smelled him. The little angel. The only family she had left. The best thing Michele had ever done in her short, misery-ridden life. God, how Michele must have loved this baby! “I’ll take care of him,” she whispered, praying somehow her sister could hear her and finally be at peace.
She carried the baby back into his room, walked to the wide, arching window and parted the curtains to stare out at the red-orange sky.
“It’s all right now, Michele. I’ll take care of him, I swear I will. I’ll give him…I’ll give him the things we didn’t have.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she went on, feeling she needed to. She had to reassure her sister as well as herself. She had to speak the promise aloud to make it real, make it solid and attainable.
“He’ll have a house, Michele. With a yard and room to grow. And…and he’ll have a family. I’ll love him so much…you’ll see. And I’ll never, ever hit him, Michele. No one will, I promise you that. He won’t have to hide his bruises before he goes off to school, the way we did. I swear it. I’ll protect him with my life. His grandfather will never even know he exists. And if his father tries to take him from me, Michele, I’ll fight him to the death. I will. He’s not going to grow up to be like them. He’ll be…he’ll be our son, Michele. Yours and mine. I’ll tell him about you. I’ll make sure he never forgets his mother.”
Ethan’s hand tugged at Chelsea’s hair, and she smiled and hugged him again.
J essi wiped the single tear from her cheek and tiptoed quietly back down the hall to her own room. Maybe…maybe she’d been a little hard on that strange city woman. She tried to imagine what her reaction would have been if their situations were reversed. If it had been one of her own precious brothers who’d been killed, and if she’d been convinced of who’d done it. Hell, she’d have been far rougher on the suspect than Chelsea Brennan had been on Garrett. She’d have probably shot first and asked questions later. And that would have been a crying shame, because Jessi never missed what she shot at.
Two things were for sure. Chelsea had loved her sister. And she loved little Ethan. And those were two things Jessi could fully understand.
That other stuff she’d overheard Chelsea talking about…about never hitting, and about hiding bruises…that stuff worried her. She decided to repeat the entire, one-sided conversation to Garrett just as soon as he came back inside.
Meanwhile, it was her turn
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