Читать книгу A Dad of His Own - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 8

Lexie Carlson peeked into the meeting room of Mothers of Special Kids. She hated being late, and the reason for her delay had plunged her spirit to the pits. Despite trying to slip in unnoticed, her friend Kelsey Rhodes, the meeting moderator, spotted her. She sidled the few steps to Lexie’s side, a frown etched on her face. “Something wrong?”

Lexie shook her head, uncomfortable with Kelsey’s attention, especially with the intriguing guest speaker standing nearby. A grin curved his full lips, and smile lines crinkled the edge of his gray eyes canopied by the thick blond lashes. His honey-colored hair glinted with copper highlights.

As much as she wanted to shift the focus, she leaned closer to Kelsey, managing as pleasant a look as she could. “No. Just a phone call.” Hoping to end the questions, she slipped into a nearby chair and turned to the front.

Thank goodness Kelsey had moved away, relief spreading across her face. Relief. Lexie welcomed the expression from women like her who faced life with seriously ill children. Their support brought her here weekly and had become her mainstay.

“As I was saying,” Kelsey said, sending a teasing smile her way, “I’m glad so many of you are here today since we have a special guest.” She motioned toward the good-looking man a few feet away from Lexie.

Something about him captured Lexie’s attention. His gray eyes glided past her with a twinkle that matched his grin. A giddy feeling swept over her, causing her to grin back. The ridiculous reaction unsettled her.

Kelsey beamed at the women. “This is Ethan Fox, who sits on the board of Dreams Come True Foundation, and he’s here to tell us about a wonderful opportunity for you and your family.”

He swung his hand in a brief wave. “Happy to be here.”

The women applauded.

Lexie liked his voice, warm and rich as a cinnamon bun fresh from the oven. Guilty pleasure swept over her at the thought of the sugary treat. It was one of her vices.

Kelsey motioned Ethan forward. He strode to the center, slipping one hand into his pocket while the other clutched what appeared to be a stack of brochures. His shirt had thin blue stripes on a white background. Lexie liked the way he coordinated his attire with his beige and navy tie. He looked like a spit-polished executive minus the suit jacket.

Ethan’s gaze locked with hers and he smiled.

A flush warmed her neck, and Lexie glanced away, but the look hadn’t escaped her friend. She ambled closer to Lexie and arched a brow. Lexie drew in a breath and gave a quick shake of her head, immediately wishing she hadn’t responded to Kelsey’s implication.

“I hope most of you have heard about the Dreams Come True Foundation.” Ethan scanned the group of women.

His comment yanked Lexie’s attention. She’d never heard of his organization. She surveyed her peers to see how many had. Only a few women nodded. Most gave Ethan blank looks that probably matched hers.

He shook his head. “I’m disappointed. I had hoped most of you knew about Dreams Come True, but this makes me especially pleased that I’m here today.” He handed Kelsey a stack of brochures and refocused on the women.

Kelsey stood at the end of the first row of chairs and counted out the brochures, but Lexie didn’t keep her attention on her friend for long. She studied Ethan Fox.

“Dreams Come True is a foundation that provides children who are surviving a serious illness with the means to reach a dream. By this, I mean the foundation plans, arranges and finances your child’s dream. This is not a national organization, but one founded in South Oakland County by an anonymous donor. He doesn’t serve on the board, and he is contacted solely through an attorney.”

Kelsey appeared, slipped a brochure into her lap and settled into the empty chair beside Lexie. She avoided Kelsey’s direct look. She wanted no more arched eyebrows. Instead she scanned the brochure as she listened to Ethan.

Sincerity always captured her attention, and she suspected the man had a love for what he did for kids, but the foundation sounded like a fairytale, where happy endings were the norm. Long ago Lexie had given up wishing on a star and singing down a well. Her prince had galloped right past, taking the glass slipper with him, and at this point in her life, she didn’t expect another heroic knight to pass by.

Ava Darnell’s hand shot up.

Lexie liked Ava, although her curiosity sometimes took precedence over wisdom. Ava’s son and hers shared a similar disease. They’d both experienced the ups and downs of cancer, and being alone, Lexie empathized with Ava’s struggle as a single mom.

Ethan gave her an acknowledging nod, and Ava lowered her hand. “Does the donor live in the area?”

Ethan lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect he does.”

“Do you think he’s a teacher or something? Someone who knows—”

“Those of us on the board have no other information. As I said, he’s an anonymous donor.” A frown flashed across his face. “But that doesn’t diminish the wonderful opportunity that you have as parents to apply for one of these gifts.”

Ava lowered her head, but her mumble could still be heard. “But why? I don’t get it.”

Kelsey rose from her chair and took a step closer to Ethan. “It’s difficult for us to imagine such kindness from a stranger, someone who doesn’t know our children, but we appreciate learning about this wonderful charity.”

Lexie tried to cover her grin. Kelsey served as the meetings troubleshooter even when she wasn’t the moderator. Lexie wished she had Kelsey’s knack to calm a crisis and soothe people’s hearts, but she approached trouble with common sense. Avoid emotion. That’s how she’d survived.

Ethan’s expression relaxed. He gave Kelsey a pleasant nod as she settled back in her seat. “It is a charity of a sort, but please don’t think that your family’s income is considered. This donor wants to give a sick child something to look forward to. To experience something that seems—or seemed—impossible. It’s more than a charity. You have all been faced with family adversity, watching your children suffer from a variety of serious illnesses. The Bible tells us to be imitators of God and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us.” His gaze scanned the women. “I think that’s what the donor has done. He wants to bring unexpected joy into your children’s lives and into yours.”

Tears welled in Lexie’s eyes. Though she had never been a person of faith, what he said made sense. Sick children deserved happiness. So did their parents, but most of all, the point he made struck her. Charity was more than generosity. It was giving from the heart as an act of love. That’s what parents did for their sick children. They gave, never expecting any repayment except to see their children well and happy. That was payment enough.

Surprised by her reaction, she brushed tears from her eyes, and when she focused again, Ethan’s expression alerted her he’d noticed. The man seemed tuned to people’s needs. Though the attribute was admirable, it didn’t set well with her. She liked to keep her problems private. Lexie dropped her musing. What difference did it make what he thought?

Another hand shot up. “What kind of dreams are you talking about?”

Ethan’s eyes sparkled. “Glad you asked. Some kids want to meet a sports figure or a popular singer or band. Young girls often want to meet Hanson or the Jonas Brothers, for example. And vacations. Many children want to see the ocean or mountains or even go on a Caribbean cruise. Others want to visit a popular amusement park. It can be anything.”

“And you can arrange that?”

Ethan grinned at the woman, a newcomer, in the front row.

Lexie’s pulse zinged.

Ethan’s gaze swept the audience. “We sure can. Sometimes the dream is as simple as learning to ride a horse or riding on a fire truck. Every dream, no matter how simple or elaborate, we do our best to make it come true.”

Murmurs rose from the women, including Kelsey, who joked about her dream to have her bills paid. Lexie liked that dream herself.

While other women posed their questions, Lexie sank into her own thoughts. She pictured Cooper asking her if he could go to school today. That was his dream, and it hurt to tell him no once again. He was in the second grade. Time flew. It seemed only yesterday he’d been a toddler. She ached thinking of how much school Cooper had missed since his diagnosis. She’d asked herself why so often, but no answer came, and she didn’t expect one. Her life had been filled with unanswered questions, but she wasn’t one to pity herself, and she didn’t plan to start feeling that way now.

Cooper was her joy. Her son. No illness could take that away. A wave of shame rolled through her. She’d made the worst mistake of her life falling in love with his father, and afterward she’d dealt with more than her share of sorrow before Cooper’s birth. But once she looked into her son’s face, she melted and knew she’d made the right choice. Even now with everything that had happened.

Lexie flipped open the brochure. Thoughts of taking Cooper on a trip to one of the major amusement parks or to the pyramids in Egypt struck her as impossible. Yes, she loved to dream, too, but dreams only led to disappointment. Oh, how she knew that. She pressed her lips together, forcing back the sudden surge of emotion that caught in her throat.

More random questions were posed while Lexie sank deeper into her thoughts. She envisioned Cooper healthy and happy, having all his dreams come true. Her longing sizzled to frustration. She’d asked herself many times if Cooper’s illness had been punishment for her bad choices. What about Jesus? What about the loving God she’d heard so much about? Would God hurt a child to get even with a parent? A loving God would not. She forced her thoughts away from her eternal struggle as her pulse slowed. Time to cling to her optimism. She coped better that way.

“If there are no more questions, let’s give Mr. Fox a round of applause for coming here to share this wonderful opportunity.”

Kelsey’s voice jerked her to the present. Surprised that she’d returned to the front of the room without her awareness, Lexie’s dropped the brochure to her lap and clapped her hands with the other women, her gaze on the man with the engaging smile.

Kelsey stepped away as a few members surrounded Ethan, and drawing up her shoulders, Lexie rose and slipped the leaflet into her shoulder bag. She glanced at her watch, thinking how quickly the time had passed before she remembered she’d been late for the meeting. She’d missed the women’s time to share their weekly ups and downs. Today she appreciated not having to add their emotional needs to her own.

As she reached for her bag, she felt Kelsey’s hand rest against her shoulder. “Interesting idea?”

Her mind pulled itself from her muddle of thoughts. “What idea?”

“Dreams Come True.”

A moment passed before she found a response. “For some, it is.” She grabbed her purse and then looked up. “Cooper’s not well enough yet.”

Kelsey’s face sank to a frown, but as her expression flickered, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Lexie, I should have guessed. The phone call. Was it bad news?”

“No worse than usual. It was the doctor, but nothing drastic. Just discouraging. Cooper’s last treatment didn’t show any improvement. His white cells are still too low.” Saying it made it too real. Her chest emptied of air, but she grasped the positive. It could have been worse. The test could have shown he’d regressed and it hadn’t.

“I’m sorry the news wasn’t better.”

“It’s part of life, right?” She curled her arm around Kelsey’s back. “How’s Lucy doing?”

“So far so good. Tumors are shrinking. You know how it is. It all takes time.” She gave Lexie a squeeze and lowered her arm. “Speaking of time, it’s shopping day for me. Groceries. Pharmacy. Service station.” Her head bobbed as she listed her tasks. “So I need to run, and…” A playful grin curved her mouth.

“Sure you do.”

“Maybe you could wait until Ethan’s finished before leaving. I hate to rush off without seeing him out of the building.”

“Good planning, Kelsey.” Lexie shook her head at her friend’s obvious plot.

“Thanks.” Kelsey wiggled her fingers in a silly goodbye. “I saw the eye contact.” The words flew over her shoulder.

Before Lexie could rebut the insinuation, she’d vanished beyond the doorway.

Lexie tossed the strap of her bag over her shoulder and rocked back on her heels, eyeing Ethan as he spoke to the last woman. They seemed so eager for information, and part of her wished she could be as enthusiastic.

Turning her back on them, she dealt with her feelings as she dug into her shoulder bag for her car keys. Brain tumors. Leukemia. Heart disorders. So many illnesses were part of life for the people who attended. Yet some had higher hopes than others. Some children were in remission. Some weren’t—like Cooper. But Cooper could be worse, and she had to remember that. No progress was better than his exacerbating. Big strides were wonderful, but small steps moved them forward. She’d learned to find joy in small steps. Each time she looked into Cooper’s face her heart filled with the same kind of happiness.

When she found her keys, Lexie stepped back and smacked against someone. As she spun around to apologize, her shoulder bag slipped down her arm and dropped to the floor beside a pair of men’s shoes.

“Sorry about that.” Ethan bent to retrieve her purse. He smiled as he rose. “What do you carry in that thing? A wrench?”

Lexie gathered her composure and managed a friendly smile. “You never know when you’ll need one.”

Ethan chuckled and returned her bag. “You’re a woman after my own heart. Always be prepared.”

If only she were. Lexie’s pulse escalated. “Thanks, and it was my fault, you know.” She slid her bag onto her shoulder again, realizing it was heavy.

“Michigan has the no-fault ruling.”

“That’s for cars.” Silly talk, but she enjoyed it.

Ethan rested his hand on the back of a chair. “No men in this group, I see.”

“The M in MOSK stands for mothers. Mothers of Special Kids.” Still, he’d made a point. She studied his face, wondering why support for men interested him. “A number of us are single mothers, and the married women haven’t asked.” But the question did arouse her curiosity. “You’re a man. Do you think—”

“Glad you noticed.” A twinkle lit his eyes.

His look tripped her pulse, and she worked to regained her composure. “As I was saying, do men really want to talk about their feelings?” She eyed him. “I thought men preferred to take action. We have so little we can do to make things better. It’s the emotional ups and downs that cause us problems.”

His smile had faded. “True for many men, too.” He motioned toward the front of the room. “So, what did you think?”

“About Dreams Come True?”

The corners of his mouth edged upward.

“The idea is wonderful, but…” Why had she added “but”? From his expression, she’d put a damper on his excitement about fulfilling the hopes of sick kids. “My son is not well enough. He’s being homeschooled right now. Clawson district has been great with his schoolwork, but it’s not the same. A child wants to attend school.”

“They miss the friendships and being part of it all. It makes learning more fun.”

“I think it does, too.” His compassion touched her. “It’s not that your foundation isn’t a lovely idea. It is. Whoever started this certainly has a generous heart.”

His eyes searched hers.

Perspiration dampened her palms, and she ran her free hand down her pant leg while her other clung to her shoulder bag strap.

A faint frown darkened his face. “But it won’t work for some kids. That’s what you’re saying.”

She closed her eyes and opened them again, releasing a ragged breath. “Yes. Some aren’t well enough to enjoy trips or days at an amusement park.”

“But one day maybe. Illnesses go into remission. Sometimes they nearly vanish. Isn’t that true?”

“True.” Curiosity spiked Lexie’s thoughts. “Have you had a child with—”

“I don’t have any children.”

From his sad expression, she feared she’d caused him to feel ill-at-ease.

His shoulders lifted. “I’m not married, and I’ve only read up on children’s illnesses and read about remissions that cause physicians to marvel. I realize that’s nothing like living it.”

Not married. Single as she was. She studied his face, wanting to know more about him. “It’s thoughtful that you’ve taken the time to understand what our kids go through.”

His expression softened. “But it’s not just the children. It’s families. So many without hope.”

He’d hit truth on the head. She’d tried to keep hope foremost in her mind.

Lexie glanced behind her and realized they were the only ones left in the room. When she turned back, Ethan was eyeing his watch. She took a step backward. “Kelsey, our moderator, had to leave, but I want to thank you for the presentation and for reminding me that things can get better.”

“You’re welcome.” He studied her a moment.

Lexie’s skin prickled with his look. “I’d better be on my way. I have a sitter.”

He took a step toward the door. “I’m heading out. I’ll walk with you.” He beckoned her forward and fell into step beside her along the hallway to the exit. Neither spoke, and though she wanted to say something meaningful, she felt tongue-tied.

Outside the April sunshine warmed Lexie’s spirit, as did the memory of Ethan’s smile.

“My car’s this way.” He pointed two rows over. “I wish we had time to really talk. I’d like to know more about the group, but I know you have things to do.”

She wished the same, but it was one of those strangers-in-the-night moments, like the old song. “I need to relieve the sitter.”

He lingered a moment before he turned toward his car.

Something in his eyes intrigued her. A sensitivity better than compassion. Compassion mixed with sincerity. And hope. She needed uplifting. That’s why she came to the MOSK meetings. She didn’t share much, but when Cooper had good times, she listened to members who were dealing with difficult situations, and while her heart broke for them, she realized how lucky it was when things were going well for her and Cooper. Then she had clouds beneath her feet rather than the usual black muck of depression.

As she watched Ethan reach his car, a white SUV, Lexie faltered. She’d never introduced herself. Too late now and probably just as well. If she ever fell in love, which she wouldn’t, it would be with a man like him. He sent her pulse skipping, gave her food for thought and, best of all, made her smile. Today, she’d found a real white knight.

And the knight didn’t even know her name.

Pulling herself from her ridiculous ideas, Lexie trudged down the asphalt toward her car. She hit the remote’s unlock button, and as she grasped the door handle, her gaze fell on her front tire. Flat.

She slapped her hood. “No. No. No.” But her words didn’t change a thing. She walked to the wheel and knelt down. The tire couldn’t get flatter. She rose and dug out her wallet and cell phone. Road service. Now how long would she have to wait?

Ethan sat behind the steering wheel watching…who? She’d never introduced herself, and he’d never asked. She hadn’t moved from where he left her, and that made him curious. Finally, she headed down the aisle and stopped at a burgundy sedan. His interest in her seemed so unlike him. When she’d indicated she was single, his interest heightened, and he realized he was in trouble. He knew many single women, but meeting this stranger today was different. He’d felt a spark.

She was lovely. He’d been drawn first to her long brown hair with those wispy waves that looked as if she’d been caught in a breeze, but later he’d been struck by her almost straight brows and wide-set eyes, ice blue in color, yet with a warmth that drew him into their depths. But it was even more than that. Something else about her had gotten under his skin.

As he watched, she stood outside her car as if she’d lost her keys, but he’d heard them jingle in her hand as they walked, so it wasn’t that. He eyed her car and shook his head.

His key dangled from the ignition. He reached to turn it but stopped when the woman slapped her car hood and walked forward. He waited until she rose and dug into her handbag. He noticed she’d grasped her cell phone.

He seized his key, then opened the door and strode from the car. “Is something wrong?”

She didn’t respond, and he hurried between the cars toward her. “Can I help you?”

This time, she looked up. Relief filled her face. “I have a flat.”

“Flat?” He slipped past her and crouched. “It’s flat all right.” He rose and grinned. “Now’s a good time to pull out that wrench.”

She eyed her purse and shrugged. “Sorry.” A grin stole to her mouth.

Ethan’s chest tightened. “Better yet, a jack will do.”

Her grin deepened. “I think I actually have one of those.” She motioned toward the trunk. “And thanks for noticing my predicament.” She brushed a strand of hair from her cheek with her cell phone. “I realized after you went to your car, I hadn’t introduced myself. I’m Alexandria Carlson, but everyone calls me Lexie.”

He grasped her warm hand, feeling its slender shape, while his gaze swept over her again and tangled in the strands of brown hair with streaks of gold. He apprehended his senses. “Do you have a spare?”

Her smooth brow wrinkled. “One of those spares that’s not a real tire.”

“A donut.” He noticed how the purple color of her sweater made her eyes even more amazing.

“Yes, a donut.” She gave him a quizzical gaze.

Apparently she’d noticed him gaping. “You can’t go far on one of those, anyway. It’s better we just take the tire in for repair.”

“No. You don’t have to do that.” She held up her cell phone. “I’ll call for road service.”

Her expression sent his pulse hopping. “I can’t leave you here without knowing everything’s okay.” One of the idiosyncracies his wife had always teased him about.

Her eyes widened. “You’re a real gentleman.”

“Thanks. I try, and who knows how long road service would take? Anyway remember, I wanted time to talk.” His ulterior motive turned to guilt. “I’ll pull your tire off, and we can have it fixed. There’s a place right up the street.”

“Okay. I’m not silly enough to argue. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned and held out his hand. “I need to get into your trunk for the jack.”

Lexie dropped the keys into his palm and stood back. Ethan rolled up his sleeves and went to work. Grateful that the lug nuts came off without a hacksaw, he pulled the tire from the axle and leaned it against the car. “I’ll pull my car up and throw this in my trunk.” He slid past her, brushing his arm against hers, and felt like a teen again. “Make sure your door is locked.” He strode to his SUV, telling himself to stop whatever crazy thoughts were in his mind and be the gentleman she’d said he was.

When he reached her car, Ethan jumped out and opened the passenger door. She slipped in, her cell phone absent from her hand. Somehow he twisted that fact into the thought that she trusted him. Otherwise she would have had her fingers ready to call 911. He stepped back and rolled his eyes. He’d been attacked by the crazies. After he tossed her tire into his trunk, he settled back inside and shifted into gear.

“I hope I’m not making you late for work.”

He forced his eyes to stay focused on the road. “I kept the morning open for the meeting, so no problem. I’m a contractor for a construction firm and spend much of my day on the road. No one misses me except my clients.” He gave her a smile. “And I don’t have an appointment until this afternoon.”

“Then I can relax, I guess.”

“You sure can.” He pulled into the street. “I think our meeting was meant to be.”

She faced him with a questioning look.

“You’d be waiting for road service.” True, but he meant much more than that.

A grin played on her mouth. “You’re right.” She leaned against the headrest. “How did you get involved in Dreams Come True?”

“Short story. When the foundation was looking for people for the governing board from a variety of businesses in the community, I volunteered.”

“You volunteered.” A quizzical look played on her face. “Any special reason other than you’re thoughtful?”

A knot tightened his throat. Did he really want to get into all of that? He glanced at her and noted her apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

As always, he tensed when he talked about Laine. “It’s fine.” Getting it out in the open. “This is the hard part.”

Lexie touched his arm. “No. Please. You don’t have to tell me. I prefer my privacy, too. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not prying. When my wife died, I realized how lonely life had become.”

Her face washed with sadness. “I’m sorry, Ethan.”

He kept going, wanting to tell the story, then move to something less depressing. “We had no children, although we’d wanted them, and when my wife died, I was alone. No longer a family. Nothing. It took a while to find my identity as anything more than a contractor for Pelham Homes.” He slowed at the traffic light and stopped.

Lexie nodded as if she understood.

“When I learned about this organization that did great things for sick kids, I hoped it would be a way to show compassion, and on a personal level, it helped me connect with children. Sometimes I still wish we’d had a child, though I know it would have made my life even more difficult to raise one without her.”

She shifted to face him, her eyes filled with tenderness. “How long has it been since your wife died?”

“Four years. I’ve been functioning for about two.” He managed to smile, not wanting her to think he was still the mess that he had been. Watching the woman he loved suffer and die from ovarian cancer had been a nightmare, but he’d pulled himself together. Only his faith had gotten him through.

“I think it’s admirable, Ethan. You volunteered and turned a negative into a positive. Everyone should do that.”

The light in her eyes told him so much. “You’ve done the same, haven’t you?”

“I try. It’s not easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile is.”

She looked thoughtful and seemed to ponder his words. “You’re right. I’ll keep that thought for times when things look dark.”

When things look dark. Ethan had a difficult time picturing her letting things knock her down. She exuded strength. The light turned green, and he moved ahead, then past the intersection, he pulled up to the tire shop.

Lexie had become quiet, but when he turned off the ignition, she opened the door and stepped out before he did. He met her by the trunk, and she followed him inside with her tire.

Once the mechanic had written up their order, Ethan motioned toward the chairs. “We might as well sit.”

She sank into one, but before joining her, he spotted a vending machine. “Want a pop?”

“Do they have water?”

He ambled to the machine and nodded. He dropped in the coins and pulled out a bottle of water for her and a cola for himself. Before he gave her the bottle, he unscrewed the cap.

She grinned. “Thanks. Always the gentleman.”

Ethan gave her a playful shrug and settled beside her. Back in the meeting room, he’d longed to get to know her better, and now he couldn’t help but grin, recalling he hadn’t even learned her name until the tire incident. Thank you, Lord, for that flat.

Lexie’s intense look warned him he’d been quiet too long.

“I was just thinking. Earlier I’d said I would like to know more about…the group.” Good cover. “And here we are.”

“The group?” She gave a shrug. “Everyone has a sick child, as you know, but I don’t know them all. I’m good friends with Kelsey. She was the moderator. Her daughter has a brain tumor, but Lucy’s doing well.” She quieted a moment. “And Ava…you remember her. Her son Brandon has Hodgkins lymphoma.”

“Ava?”

Lexie grinned. “She’s the one with all the questions about the foundation donor. She’s curious to a fault.”

He chuckled at her description. “Curiosity is okay.” His own had reached fever pitch.

“Tell me about your son.”

Her face brightened. “Cooper.” She ran her finger around the rim of the water bottle. “He’s my joy. Cooper’s seven. A second-grader. He’ll be eight soon. He was diagnosed with leukemia a year ago.”

Leukemia. The word hit him hard. Cancer. He managed to maintain his composure. “That’s very hard on you.”

“It’s harder on him.” She lowered her head. “He’s a great kid. You should meet him.”

A jolt of panic shot through him. He’d like to meet her son. He’d like to get to know her, but cancer? Again? “You sound like a proud mom.”

“I am. He’s a brave boy. Never complains about the treatment, and he’s very optimistic.”

The urge to flee came over him, soon usurped by shame. A little boy without a dad. Or maybe he had a dad who spent time with him. “I’m sure his dad’s proud of him, too.”

Her face darkened, and Ethan realized he’d made a grave error.

“Cooper doesn’t see his father.” Her jaw tightened, and she looked away.

“Mrs. Carlson.”

Lexie’s arm jerked as Ethan looked up at the mechanic.

“I found a nail embedded in the tire. The repair will take about twenty minutes.”

She glanced at him. “Ethan, is this okay with you?”

He nodded, his mind scrambling to find a new topic to discuss. His job—anything to keep him from thinking about the little boy with cancer and no dad.

“I should call the sitter. She might worry.” Lexie dug into her bag and pulled out her cell. “I’ll just step outside.”

She rose and strode to the door while Ethan watched her through the window, disappointed at his sense of relief. Somewhere in his crazy mind, he’d been attracted to this woman with the amazing eyes and captivating manner, but his dream had been shot down by one word. Cancer. Laine’s face filled Ethan’s mind. They’d had such hopes and dreams. She’d looked radiant when her CA 125 test came back with good results, and she’d been so brave each time the report was bad news. He’d lived with heartbreak for over two years. He couldn’t watch it happen again. Not to a little boy.