The Twin Bargain
“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
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.”