“Don’t stay up there if all you’re doing is worrying yourself sick,” Ethan said.
But that wasn’t it at all. She needed to check on Sophie. She needed to be closer to her daughter. She needed some space to find at least a piece of her center to rely on. The worst way to fail Sophie right now would be by falling apart even more than she already had.
Calm. She had to find calm. Real calm. The kind of calm that would allow her to think.
Before it was too late.
After the call to Gage had been made, Ethan and Micah continued to sit at the table, father and son separated by years if no longer by distance. Yet Ethan felt a recognition somewhere deep inside him, as if part of him had always known Micah. Perhaps it was just that part of him was Micah.
“Are you willing to stay around?” Micah asked.
“Stay around?”
“Here. In this county. You have a permanent job if you want it. Gage said so. And I’d like the time with you. Right or wrong, we’ve both been cheated out of something.”
Ethan nodded slowly, turning inward, testing instincts and long-denied feelings. “I’d like the opportunity.”
“Good. When this mess with Sophie and Connie is taken care of, Faith wants you to come stay with us for a while. She wants to get to know you, too, and she wants you to know your sisters.”
Ethan nodded, feeling a small lightening in his heart. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” Micah drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. “I know where you’ve been, son. I spent twenty years doing what you did. So what happened? You’re on disability?”
“IED,” Ethan said succinctly. “I’ve got shrapnel lodged near my spine.”
“Well, hell.” Micah’s frown deepened. “I figured it had to be bad. They aren’t letting many out right now.”
“No.”
“So you’re in danger?”
“Could be. Mostly it’s just pain. But yeah, they’re worried a wrong move could paralyze me.”
“How are you handling that?”
Ethan shrugged. “I’m luckier than a lot of guys.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling, too. Problem comes in the dead of night, when you start to think some of them were luckier.”
A look of complete understanding passed between them.
“It gets better,” Micah said. “It does. I won’t say it ever completely goes away, but eventually you can look forward more than you look back.”
“I hope so. Sometimes I just wish the enemy still wore uniforms.”
Micah nodded. “I carry some of that with me, too.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Micah sighed and sipped his coffee. “I don’t regret serving my country. I hope you don’t.”
“No. Never.”
Micah nodded. “Good. You shouldn’t. Some of us have to.”
“I know. I’m proud that I went.”
Micah reached out and clasped his son’s forearm. “I’m proud of you. War creates atrocities by its very nature. But until we all learn to live in peace, some of us are going to bear that burden. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, so I’ll just tell you, once again, what I’ve learned. It’s time to look to today. Today is the seed of tomorrow. And from what I can see, you’re planting some mighty good seeds right now.”
Ethan arched a brow.
Micah smiled faintly. “Sophie.”
“Oh.”
“And Connie. A man could do a lot worse than Connie.”
“I don’t think...”
“Not yet, maybe. But she’s a good woman, through and through. Almost as good as my Faith. You’ll see.” He drained his mug and rose to carry it to the sink. “I’m going to get to the office, make sure that picture of Leo gets out to the force. I think we got us a snake in the corn, son, and it ain’t no stranger.”
Ethan watched his father leave, feeling as if an important connection had just been made. His father was no longer a stranger. He was becoming a friend.
For the first time in a long time, he smiled just because he felt like it.
In the distance he heard a rumble of thunder. Rising, he went to the front of the house to look out and see the clouds. Billowing upward, limned in white so bright it seemed to shine, and black below. Another bad one. A big one, the kind that could build up over miles of open space.
He closed his eyes as thunder rumbled again, feeling it deep inside himself. Thunder spoke, and he listened.
He had been chosen. Somehow, in some way, he had been chosen. The shaman in him rose to accept the task, whatever it might be. As thunder rumbled again, speaking in a tongue only his heart could understand, he gave thanks for the rain, for the lightning, for their cleansing, nourishing powers.
And he gave thanks that he had been brought here at this moment in time, a moment when he was needed.
Because what good was any man if he didn’t serve a need?
* * *
Connie couldn’t sleep. Of course, she hadn’t expected to. She looked in on Sophie several times, then lay on her bed listening to the building storm. The storm, she thought, would drive Leo or whoever it was to ground. She could relax, at least for a little while.
But anxiety, her constant companion now, wouldn’t let go.
She heard Ethan’s footsteps on the stairs. He moved almost silently, as usual, but no matter how light his tread, he couldn’t avoid all the creaky steps, even though he missed most of them.
Straining to listen, she heard him open Sophie’s door, then close it. A moment later her own door opened, just as a bolt of lightning brightened the darkening afternoon. For an instant he looked as if he were stepping out of another world, a mythic being come briefly to earth. Then the lightning faded and he was Ethan again.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Hardly surprising. Sophie’s out like a light.” He came into the room and lay down beside her, pulling her close with gentle hands, cradling her head on his shoulder. A shaky sigh escaped her as she relaxed against him, feeling his fingers in her hair, stroking gently.
“You know,” she said presently, “I’ve been totally self-absorbed this week.”
“You’re worried about Sophie. I’m surprised you can think about anything else at all.”
“But what about you?” she asked. “How are you doing? Are you hurting? Are you getting on with Micah? I feel so selfish.”
“You’re not being selfish. Micah and I are hitting it off better than I hoped. He wants me to come stay with him and Faith for a while after we take care of the threat to Sophie.”
“That’s a good idea.” But, selfishly, she didn’t think it was a good idea at all. She wanted him to stay here. For the first time in her life she had someone she could really lean on. Someone who seemed to have shoulders broad enough to bear the burdens of life with her. And she didn’t want to let him go.
Which was purely selfish. Ethan