The Twin Bargain Read online

  He shot a quick glance at her, ready to snatch her hand away, but a tiny smile hovered on the edge of her lips. A mixture of caution and dawning delight.

  Not a bad way to approach new experiences and life in general.

  Then Stella traded places with Lucy. They spent the next hour feeding the ducks. Running along the banks of the country pond. Exploring. Listening to birdcalls. Searching for four-leaf clovers. Munching on carrot sticks and celery.

  After being cooped up indoors, they needed to run and play and be children. He felt an unusual affinity with them. A connection he’d not expected. He’d never spent much time—any time—with kids.

  He wished someone had figured out his own rambunctious, younger self needed an appropriate outlet after school. Before attempting to settle down to homework. But he didn’t blame his mother or grandparents. They’d been trying to make a living, keeping the business afloat.

  Yet he might have had a better attitude toward school. Too often he’d turned his attention to more mischievous exploits. Hence, his troublemaker reputation.

  Hands on his hips, he watched the girls toss handfuls of corn ever higher over the water to the ducks. Feeling pretty pleased with his ingenuity, he wondered why people believed it hard to take care of children.

  This was easy. So simple. He was still congratulating himself right until the moment one of them fell into the shallow water at the edge of the pond.

  Lucy, of course.

  Webbed feet rapidly backpedaling, the ducks scattered to the hinterlands. And not to be outdone—or maybe she refused to let her twin have all the fun—Stella threw her fully clothed little self into the pond, too.

  “Girls!” he shouted. But it was too late. He raced toward them.

  Both stood up. Water ran in rivulets down their faces. Their dresses and once-pristine white tights were discolored with mud.

  “Lucy! Stella! What have you done?”

  They grinned at him.

  “I’m a baby duck, Efan.” Lucy splashed her sister.

  “Stop splashing me, Lucy,” Stella yelled.

  Grimacing at the coldness of the water through his jeans, he waded into the pond to separate them.

  Amber was going to kill him. Absolutely annihilate him.

  Incredulous at the twins’ bedraggled spectacle, he rested his hand on top of his head. Forget Amber—his grandmother would kill him before Amber had the chance.

  Yeah, twin-sitting. Such a piece of cake. Not.

  * * *

  Amber laughed herself silly when she arrived to pick up the girls that evening, and ErmaJean told her of the girls’ latest escapades.

  “I don’t know who was the most muddy...” ErmaJean smirked. “The kids or Ethan.”

  His hair still wet from the shower, Ethan gave her a sheepish smile. “Twin-sitting is harder than it looks.”

  “You don’t say...” Amber smirked.

  ErmaJean laughed. “Lucy and Stella aren’t the only ones getting an education.”

  She escorted Ethan’s grandmother to her bath while he helped Lucy and Stella finish their homework, which consisted mostly of practicing their letters on a child’s handwriting tablet.

  Afterward, Amber followed ErmaJean down the hall. “You’re getting good on those crutches.”

  The older lady stopped on the threshold of the living room. “He’s very good with them, isn’t he?” She directed Amber’s attention to where Ethan sat on the couch between Lucy and Stella. Although, characteristically, Stella had positioned herself at the far end of the sofa.

  Amber never would’ve imagined Mr. Life of the Party could be so kind, gentle and thoughtful with her children. Or, for that matter, any children. But he was. More than she’d ever dreamed possible. With her, too.

  “Dis was your favowite book when you was a boy, Efan?”

  “Sure was.” He opened the book. “I can’t believe Grandma saved it all these years.”

  “What’s it cawed, Efan?”

  ErmaJean held her finger to her lips, but Amber needed no prompting.

  “It’s called Make Way for Ducklings.” He underscored each word with his finger.

  Lucy snuggled under his arm. “What’s it about?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Mallard.”

  Lucy’s face upturned. “And her children?”

  Stella inched closer. “Baby ducks aren’t children, Lucy. They’re ducklings.”

  A smile tugging at his handsome lips, he flipped the page. “Right you are, Stella Bella. Anyone want to count the ducklings?”

  “I do!”

  Stella wriggled her way underneath his other arm. “I will.”

  “Looks like I’ve got my hands full.” His gaze floated between the girls. “Which means you two will have to help me turn the pages.”

  “Me!” Lucy raised her hand as if she were in the classroom.

  Amber and ErmaJean exchanged amused looks, but Stella frowned.

  “Maybe Stella Bella could put her finger under each word as I read the story. It’s a big job.” He scratched his neck. “Do you think you could handle that?”

  She nodded vigorously, her braids bouncing. Then she bit her lip. “I may not know all the words, though.”

  He dropped his chin, his eyes boring into hers. “It’s okay to not know everything. I’ll help you.”

  Amber wasn’t sure how he knew that, of the two, Stella was already reading, but somehow he did.

  Neither Amber nor ErmaJean moved a muscle as he read the timeless classic to the girls. Both Lucy and Stella remained curled next to him, enraptured until the final word.

  Tears blurred her eyes. He was so wonderful with the girls. Was there anything sweeter than a man cuddling his children and reading them a bedtime story?

  Wait. They weren’t his children. And Amber was shocked at how strongly she wished it were true.

  She was also cut to the quick at the girls’ obvious attachment to him—Stella, in spite of herself. ErmaJean had been right. Lucy and Stella needed a father figure.

  If only a temporary one, she reminded herself. Ethan, like Tony, wasn’t the sort of guy she could count on to stick around.

  Miss ErmaJean shifted. Shaken out of her reverie, Amber caught her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “I stood too long in one place, but I wouldn’t have missed that for the world.” ErmaJean’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “A real treat, that’s what it was. But I think I’ll retire to my bedroom and finish the book IdaLee brought me today. Please let the girls say goodbye before y’all head out.”

  Amber stayed within arm’s length of Ethan’s grandmother until she was safely ensconced in her favorite wingback chair. Returning, she found the living room deserted, except for Ethan.

  Her heart thudded.

  Ethan laid the picture book on the coffee table. “I think Stella’s starting to thaw.”

  She scanned the room as if the girls might be hiding somewhere, but mainly to give herself time to get her pulse under control. “Where’re Lucy and Stella?”

  “I sent them into the kitchen to pack their backpacks.” He patted the seat cushion. “How was your day?”

  Her hesitation lasted about a millisecond before she sank onto the sofa. Who was she kidding? When it came to Ethan, she’d never been able to deny herself.

  “Did you know there’s an advertisement for Ethan Green Furniture Restoration tacked on the bulletin board at the Mason Jar?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No, but I could guess who put it there.”

  She smiled. “Your grandmother isn’t allowed to drive yet.”

  “But she’s fully capable of making a phone call—excuse me—of texting her compatriots into doing her dirty work for her.”

  “The notice was written with an old-fashioned, exquisite penmanship.”

  He s
ighed. “IdaLee.”

  “I’d offer to take it down, but I value my life.”

  “My ears and the Truelove grapevine must’ve really been burning this afternoon.” He chuckled. “When I got back from the pond with the girls, there were five new projects waiting for me in Granddad’s old shop. And Grandma claimed a sob story for each one.”

  Relaxing against the cushion, Amber smiled. “Do you mind?”

  “I ought to...” He shook his head. “But somehow I don’t. Might as well keep busy while I’m here. My mornings are free. Especially after GeorgeAnne called to tell me she’d be taking over Grandma’s PT appointments.”

  “Best to keep busy,” Amber agreed, her tongue firmly in her cheek. “Idle hands and all that. You don’t want to lose your restoration skills.”

  “No danger of that.” He smirked. “But if I do, I have lots of other skills.”

  She made sure he saw her roll her eyes. “You don’t say.”

  He cocked his head. “Seeing is believing, baby cakes.”

  “You are some kind of unbelievable, Ethan Todd Green.”

  “Why, thank you, Amber Dawn Fleming.” His eyes danced. “I agree. I’m unbelievably handsome, intelligent, debonair...”

  She sniffed.

  “Witty, charming, articulate—”

  “Legend in your own mind.”

  They smiled at each other.

  He stroked his beard-stubbled chin. “I can’t imagine how I’ve managed without you all these years to keep me in my place.”

  “Stay and you won’t have to imagine.” Her cheeks went hot. She’d actually said that out loud?

  His eyebrow arched. “Maybe I will. I might surprise you.”

  Ethan was full of surprises. But the biggest surprise of all was how he made her feel inside. An emotion she’d lost sight of until now.

  Hope.

  Chapter Seven

  A couple weeks later in his granddad’s shop, Ethan looked with satisfaction at the changes he’d wrought to the damaged drop leaf dining table. It had been a big job. He’d painstakingly sanded away the old finish.

  He needed only to apply an oil-based varnish to allow the luster of the wood grain to shine through. He was reaching for the stain cloth when his cell phone buzzed on the workbench.

  Intent on finishing the job, he nearly let it roll to voice mail, but he remembered his grandmother hadn’t yet returned from her appointment. Miss GeorgeAnne had taken her to a follow-up visit with the orthopedist. So after quickly wiping his hands on the denim apron protecting his clothes, he grabbed the phone.

  Glancing at the screen, sudden fear sliced through his gut. It was the school. “Hello?” His voice boomed louder than he intended.

  “Mr. Green?” It was a woman on the other end. “Is this Ethan Green?”

  His pulse thrummed. “Yes, this is Ethan Green.”

  “This is Principal Stallings. I’ve been unable to reach Lucy and Stella’s mother or ErmaJean Hicks,” the coolly impersonal voice informed him. “Your name and number were recently added to their contact information.”

  Amber had updated the forms when he took over afternoon car pool. If the school was calling, something had happened to the girls.

  His heart jerked in his chest. “Are Lucy or Stella ill?”

  “No.” Principal Stallings paused. “But there’s been an incident. You will need to come to the school office immediately.”

  A playground accident? Or worse? Sick fear knifed his gut. The fear of every parent on the planet.

  Images exploded across his brain of one or both of the girls hurt. A hundred images raced through his mind of children on the evening news running from their schools amid gunfire.

  “Principal Stallings...” His mouth went dry. “What’s happened? Has there been a shooting?”

  The woman inhaled sharply. “No, Mr. Green. But Lucy and Stella are in trouble. They’ve been involved in a fight with another student.”

  He stared at the phone in his hand. In a fight. Sweet Lucy? Quiet Stella?

  “Principal Stallings, with all due respect, I can’t believe—”

  “It was not without provocation, but we have a zero tolerance policy toward violence at this school.”

  Lucy and Stella must be so scared. What had the other child done that would have incited the girls to do such a thing?

  “I’ve spoken at length to each child. All three will receive the same disciplinary consequence.”

  “Which is?” he rasped.

  “Considering this is their first offense, and they are only four years old, I’ve decided to send the girls home for the rest of the day. An unofficial suspension, but I would’ve been well within my rights to institute a much longer disciplinary action.”

  He raked his hand over his head. This would devastate Amber.

  “I don’t wish to derail their future academic career, so I’ve decided not to put the incident on their permanent records.”

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Noon. Amber must be swamped with the lunch crowd. Maybe why she hadn’t checked her phone. “Thank you, Principal Stallings. I appreciate your leniency.”

  “The other child’s mother is on her way to school. I trust you can also shortly arrive?”

  He was already walking out of the workshop. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Their mother seems to have entrusted you, Mr. Green, with some responsibility for the twins’ welfare. Though I’m not quite sure of your place in their lives.”

  Gravel crunched beneath his work boots. He wasn’t quite sure of his place in Lucy’s and Stella’s lives, either. A temporary place. He was beginning to think God had put him in Truelove not only for his grandmother, but also for Amber and her children. Cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear, he threw himself into the sedan and started the engine.

  “Mr. Green, it is my sincere hope that you and the children’s mother will stress to the twins the seriousness of what has happened today, and that this will never happen again.”

  Reiterating his promise to come quickly, he clicked off his phone and steered the car toward downtown Truelove. He drove around the square, bypassing the bustling café and hardware store. Veering into the school parking lot, he angled into a visitor space.

  Despite what Principal Stallings had said, he couldn’t in his wildest dreams imagine Lucy and Stella becoming involved in a schoolyard brawl. And he wouldn’t allow them to be railroaded. He felt sure there was more to the story. It made his blood boil, thinking of some big lunkhead kid bullying the girls.

  Ethan took the sidewalk to the main entrance at a run. Whipping open the door, he hurried along the corridor toward the office. Anxiety churned in his belly.

  This wasn’t his first trip to a principal’s office. Not by far. He and every principal from elementary to high school had been more than mere acquaintances.

  In hindsight, he realized he’d acted out to get attention. With a deadbeat father and an absentee mother, he’d figured even bad attention was better than no attention. And unfortunately, Grandma Hicks had too often been the designated adult on retrieval duty. Thanks to the Marines and Dwight Fleming, he hadn’t landed where he’d been headed—jail or worse.

  Time to repay the favor—to Dwight’s granddaughters.

  Ready to do battle, he stalked inside. Reaching for a ringing phone, the receptionist pointed to the left. He pivoted toward the row of chairs against the wall.

  The twins and another child about Lucy and Stella’s age huddled in three red leather armchairs.

  At the sight of him, Lucy dissolved into silent sobs and hid her face in her arm. A tear rolled down Stella’s stoic features. Her small hands white-knuckle gripped the armrests. All three girls looked chastened and sorrowful.

  His heart broke in two. “Lucy. Stella.” He went down on his k
nee in front of them.

  Lucy looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “I sowee, Efan,” she whispered.

  An older woman he presumed to be Principal Stallings emerged from an adjacent office.

  He turned to the girls. “What happened?”

  Lucy started to cry again and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Scooping her out of the chair, he sat down, depositing Lucy in his lap. Burying her face in his shirt, she clung to him.

  “Help me understand, Stella.” He placed his other arm around Stella’s shoulders, but she remained stiff and unresponsive. “Please tell me the truth. I won’t be angry. I promise.”

  “Michaela said Lucy and me couldn’t go to the dance tonight.” Stella jabbed her finger at the other child. “Because we don’t have a daddy...” Her chin quivered. “Th-that nobody loved us because we were bad girls.”

  The other girl studied the floor.

  At the sheer cruelty of the words, he grappled with the fury rising within him. But he reminded himself the child had probably only repeated something she’d heard at home from adults. He felt a fierce protectiveness toward Amber’s daughters.

  Principal Stallings held out her hand to the other child. “Michaela, why don’t you wait for your mother in my office?”

  The pale, too-skinny little redhead hopped off the chair and took the principal’s hand. Mrs. Stallings escorted her down the hall, and ushered the child inside.

  Her eyes brimming, Stella peered at him. “Is it true? Are we bad girls, Ethan?”

  Red-hot anger sizzled through his veins at the pain and confusion in her eyes. A pain he knew firsthand. The sense of displacement with which he’d struggled his entire life. Of not belonging anywhere and to anyone.

  He wouldn’t allow that to happen to them. Not his beautiful, intelligent, warmhearted girls.

  “You and Lucy are not bad.” He placed his hand over her small one. “You are good, sweet girls.” For the first time, Stella didn’t shrink from his touch.

  Principal Stallings rejoined them. “It was inexcusable what Michaela said to them. Due to privacy issues, I cannot fully disclose the details of her personal situation, but she was acting out in regards to an ongoing family crisis.”