His Small-Town Family. Lorraine Beatty

His Small-Town Family - Lorraine  Beatty


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Ethan was capable, handy and willing to follow her direction.

      Nicki tiptoed into the small room off the office, which she’d transformed into a mini nursery, to check on Sadie and found her sleeping soundly. She never tired of watching her little daughter. Gently, she stroked her downy soft hair, listening to her sweet baby breaths. Her heart swelled with a love so strong tears threatened to burst forth. How was it possible to love one small person this much?

      Back at her desk, she checked on the store bank account. Her dad had followed through. The account balance now showed a healthy total. There was enough to pay the outstanding bills and make most of the changes she wanted to do. Of course, it all hinged on what Gary found in the books.

      Movement drew her attention to the doorway as Ethan walked past, carrying a bulky gateleg table in each hand. He carried them as if they were nothing more than sheets of cardboard, though the muscles in his upper arms attested to their actual weight. She had to drag the things step by step whenever she wanted to move them. Having a strong man to help around the store would be a blessing. Charlie had been a faithful employee, but he was a slightly built, thoughtful man who would rather help the customers than wrestle the boxes in the stockroom.

      A few minutes later, Ethan stopped in the door, tapping lightly on the frame to get her attention. “The tables are up.”

      “Thank you. I’ll show you where the other things are in a moment.”

      He nodded. “I didn’t see a time clock or a sign-out sheet anyplace. How do you want me to keep track of my hours?”

      “Oh. We use the honor system. Arrive at nine unless we’ve made other arrangements. An hour for lunch. Leave at six. Same with overtime. You tell me what you worked, I’ll pay you for it.”

      “You must have had trusted employees in the past.”

      “I did.” She hoped that she could trust him, as well.

      His eyes warmed again, and the corner of his mouth moved. Without a word, he patted the door frame lightly and turned away, only to turn back again and catch her gaze. “You can trust me, Ms. Latimer.”

      “Nicki. You can call me Nicki.”

      He smiled. “Nicki it is.”

      Nicki blinked, unable to look away. He’d smiled. A heart-stopping, knee-weakening, melt-your-insides smile that created deep creases at the corners of his mouth and revealed strong white teeth made more dazzling against his tanned skin. She swallowed through the sudden dryness in her throat, feeling dazed and warm all over.

      He disappeared down the hall, and she released a pent-up breath, fanning herself with her hands to ease the heat in her cheeks. A moment later, she heard the thump of a box landing on the floor and the whiz of a utility knife slicing through tape. A sense of confidence washed through her—something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. She’d made a good decision hiring Ethan. Hopefully it was the first of many more. If she could collect enough good decisions, maybe they would bury the one horrible one she’d made when she’d married Brad.

      * * *

      Ethan rolled his shoulders, wincing at the twinge. His back was sore, his neck ached, and his legs were protesting the stooping and lifting he’d done all morning. But he felt better than he had in months. Honest work. Simple work. And nothing to trigger a memory from his past. All in all, it had been a good morning.

      He wasn’t sure what had triggered his small flashback yesterday. Perhaps seeing the soldier or anxiety over joining a new PTSD group. Thankfully he’d been able to hold off the images. This time.

      He could hear Nicki in the front of the store, her voice warm and pleasant as she waited on a customer. She had a way of making each person feel that their business was appreciated. He was going to like working here. He liked working for Nicki. She was a confident, capable woman. Yet there was also something fragile about her, as if her determination and confidence could shatter at any moment. Nicki Latimer was an interesting combination of strength and softness.

      Her vulnerability triggered his protective instincts, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. And noticing an attractive woman made him feel human again. He’d spent too much time trying to survive. It was nice to experience normal reactions again.

      Ethan pried the shipping label from a small box, turning to glance at Nicki as she strode into the stockroom and went to the storage closet. Sliding the blade back into the box cutter, he watched as she rummaged through the shelves a moment, then pulled out a new lightbulb, shut the cabinet and reached for the four-foot folding stepladder leaning against the wall.

      She smiled over her shoulder, holding up the bulb. “Light’s out in my office.”

      “Need some help?”

      “No. I can do it myself.”

      He watched her walk away, lugging the awkward stool, her shoulders squared. The defiant tone in her voice piqued his curiosity. Maybe he should keep an eye on her. He wasn’t comfortable with her climbing an old step stool without someone to steady it.

      He found her in her office, stool unfolded and placed squarely beneath the light fixture. The office ceiling was at least ten feet. To reach the socket she’d have to stand on the top step, and even then it would be a stretch. He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Let me do that.”

      She pulled the lightbulb out of his reach, her blue eyes darkening to navy. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m perfectly capable of changing a lightbulb.”

      Ethan held her gaze, surprised to see fear flash through her blue eyes. Her posture was rigid. Her jaw was set. He held her eyes a moment longer, wishing he could understand and help somehow. But right now, discretion was called for. He stepped to the front of the ladder, steadying it with both hands, and waited.

      Slowly, the tension eased from her shoulders. She inhaled a deep breath and grasped the side of the ladder, bulb in the other hand. The front bell chimed, halting her on the first step. She glanced from the doorway back to him, clearly torn between completing her task and greeting the new customer.

      He held out his hand. “I’ll finish up here. If that’s okay.” His offer was rewarded with a sweet smile that sent his heart on an odd roller-coaster ride.

      “Thanks.”

      Ethan watched her hurry away, then quickly replaced the lightbulb and returned the step stool to the stockroom. His curiosity about his new boss was fully engaged now. He wanted to know what had caused the fear in her blue eyes. Whatever it was, he’d be keeping a close eye on her from now on. She was prone to acts of recklessness.

      A loud rumble from his stomach an hour later reminded Ethan that it was lunchtime. While Nicki had insisted they were on the honor system, he wanted to at least notify her he was leaving. He decided to try the deli around the corner today.

      Striding out of the stockroom, he peeked in the office door. It was empty, but he could hear her speaking softly in the back room. He grinned, tugging on his earlobe. Maybe she was the kind who talked to herself. Another thing that made her interesting.

      He heard her giggle before she stepped back into the office. He looked over at her, teasing words on the tip of his tongue. He froze. Blood drained from his face. His heart refused to beat. Ice filled his veins.

      Nicki stood in the middle of the office with an infant in her arms. She cradled the baby against her shoulder, patting its back and cooing sweetly. Ethan recoiled at the image. His vision flickered between the woman and child in front of him and the woman and child in Afghanistan. One minute together. The next... Claws of horror pierced the back of his mind. He tried to focus on Nicki and the baby, but the image of the others on the ground—broken, torn—intruded. He was sucked back to a dusty street in Afghanistan. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move or even think.

      “Oh, Ethan. I want you to meet my daughter, Sadie.”

      Her voice penetrated his senses slowly like molasses dripping from a spoon. He had to get away. Now. “Yeah. I’m...lunch.”


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