A Dad of His Own (11 page)

After they settled at a sturdy-looking pine table, a waitress came with menus, and they perused the fare. “This is lunch, Coop.”

“I know, but it feels like dinner.”

Ethan chucked him under the chin. “We lost a couple of hours on the plane so it feels later than the clock says.”

“See, Mom?”

Lexie grinned.

Cooper closed the menu. “Can I have a cheeseburger and fries? And I want chocolate cream pie.”

Ethan folded his menu. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

The waitress arrived with water glasses tinkling with ice cubes, and they placed their order. As she left, Lexie grasped her glass and took a long swallow.

When Cooper headed for the restroom, she leaned back and studied Ethan. He was everything a woman could ask for, but too many things in her life held her back. Telling someone about her mistakes, her foolishness, rent her in two, especially a man who believed in God and followed His precepts. Her gaze shifted to his firm chin where stubble had begun to grow. She even liked that part of him. She shifted her focus to his blue eyes, always with a glint.

As she did, his gazed captured hers. “Feeling okay?”

She nodded. “I’m glad you’re with us.” And she was despite her earlier reservations. “This long drive with Cooper would have been tedious if I were alone trying to follow a map.”

“It is long, but soon we’ll be closer to the mountains. The view is magnificent.” He clasped her hand. To her surprise, his fingers felt cool. “I know at first you were leery about having me come with you, but I hope I can prove that I have only good intentions.”

“It’s my problem, Ethan. Please ignore my foolishness.” A knot rose to her throat. “I’ve been in some bad situations in my life that I don’t want to talk about, and sometimes they overshadow the life I live now.”

“The past brings up situations for everyone that we wish we could erase. But we can’t. We know the Lord has blotted them out. So we go on.”

The Lord. If only she could do that. She placed her free hand on top of his. “I’ve tried to figure out what motivates you, especially having lost a loved one to cancer. I would
think that would have frightened you away from us, but here you are.”

He covered her hand with his free one, his eyes searching hers.

“It’s your faith, I guess. You believe in doing good deeds and showing compassion—”

“That’s important, but it’s more than that, Lexie. I told you the other day I have strong feelings for Cooper, and I—I think so much of you, and I told you that I admire you.” He lowered his head and inched it upward, a grin on his face. “And you are a gorgeous woman. That’s hard for anyone to resist.”

Heat burst on her cheeks. “I’m not gorgeous. Not at all, and I don’t understand why you admire me.”

His grin faded. “You don’t see yourself as others do.” He fiddled with a napkin. “But as you said, my faith is important. We’ve been asked to be kind, generous, thoughtful and compassionate.”

“See. I told you.”

Instead of smiling, he lowered his eyes. “And I have to be honest with you.”

His look caused her stomach to tighten.

“Cooper’s illness did set me back. I tried to stay away for that reason. The thought of getting involved with cancer again…”

She slipped one hand from beneath his and touched his cheek. The fresh whiskers prickled her palm. “I understand. I really do. What I still don’t get is your unyielding faith. Losing a wife, yet you believe. I know you talked about faith and trust, but—” How could she explain? “You must have asked God to cure Laine, but He didn’t.”

He started to respond, but Cooper bounded to the table and interrupted. “Mom, they have a store with all kinds of neat things. Can we go there before we leave?”

“You’re going to see all kinds of shops at the Grand Canyon.” She shifted her gaze to Ethan.

He leaned closer. “We can finish this talk later.”

They had little choice. She didn’t want to discuss her belief or lack of it in front of Cooper, but the conflict burned inside her. If she could understand that, then maybe she could make some sense out of God and faith.

When she focused, the waitress had arrived with their lunch, its aroma taunting her empty stomach. She took her first bite of barbecued pork, eager to dig into the meal and grateful for the good food. It eased her longing to finish their conversation.

Ethan tucked the park pass in his window and continued down Highway 64. Cooper and Lexie had both quieted earlier, and when he glanced at them, he realized they’d fallen asleep. The four-hour drive had taken its toll on top of their early departure from Detroit. A nap appealed to him, too, but not behind the wheel. He chuckled aloud, and Lexie stirred.

“I’m sorry. I guess I fell asleep.”

“Forgiven.” He gave her a quick grin. “I was thinking about doing that myself.”

She gave him a playful smack. “Where are we?”

“Very close. Grand Canyon Village is just ahead.”

She craned her neck. “Really? I suppose I should wake Cooper.” She twisted toward the backseat, as much as her seat belt would allow, and gave his leg a shake.

Cooper groaned. “My stomach aches.”

She chuckled. “No wonder. Look what you ate for lunch?” She twisted back. “Kids. What do they expect?”

Ethan took the road to Mather Point, thinking he deserved a bad stomach, too. He’d eaten too much and then added a piece of the great pie, but he’d enjoyed it. “We’ll make a stop
here for the first view.” He rolled into a parking spot and turned off the motor. “Take a look.”

Lexie’s eyes widened. “Unbelievable. Pictures can’t capture this.” She shifted to face the backseat. “Cooper, we’re at the Grand Canyon.”

As if a hoist had jerked Cooper from his reclined position, he flew upright, unlatched his seat belt, and rested his arms on the seat backs, his mouth ajar. “Wow! It’s huge.”

Ethan stepped from the sedan, the view stretching before him—striated rocks of gray, terra-cotta and dusky rose dotted with evergreens.

Cooper leaped from the car and flew toward the railing, his stomachache apparently forgotten.

“Hold up, Coop. Wait for your mom.”

He skidded to a halt, his stance ready for action.

Lexie opened the passenger door as Ethan arrived at her side. When she cleared the door, he shut it and hit the lock button. He grasped her hand, and she curled her fingers around his palm. Relief washed over him. If she had heard Cooper’s confession about loving him she hadn’t let it sway her from their friendship. Her smile grew and the only thing left hanging had been their discussion about God. He’d thought a lot about that as he drove from Rock Spring Café.

At the railing, she released his hand. The canyon plunged below, each rock reflecting a variety of colors descending to the canyon floor where the Colorado River flowed.

“Can we go down there?” Cooper’s hopeful eyes gazed up at him.

Ethan’s chest caught. “Probably not, Coop. The walk is treacherous and takes a whole day, then we would have to sleep down there and come up the next day. It’s too hard for all of us, and the mule rides can be dangerous. But I have a surprise that’s almost as good.”

His eyes widened. “What kind of surprise?”

Lexie chuckled. “Coop, if he tells you, it won’t be a surprise.”

Cooper offered a disappointed grin. “When do I get it?”

“Patience, Coop.” Ethan tousled his hair.

“Not you, too.” His shoulders drooped as he lowered his head, then seemed to have second thoughts and pointed. “Can we walk out there?”

Ethan eyed the narrow point jutting over the Canyon. He wasn’t sure he wanted to walk out there even with the railing, but he couldn’t disappoint Cooper again. He eyed Lexie, and she gave a faint nod. Cooper hurried ahead but stopped before the rock projection and waited.

“Let’s go.” Ethan reached for Lexie’s hand again.

She gave it a squeeze.

He squeezed back. The most important thing during their time together was growth for their relationship. He hoped Lexie and he would get to know each other better. He wanted to know about Cooper’s dad. So many things, and Lexie hadn’t learned much about him, either. He set that as his goal as he headed for the precipice.

At the point, Ethan eyed the point extending beyond a drop off more than a mile. Stepping onto the projection took faith in the same way his relationship with Lexie and Cooper took faith. His life could tumble out of control if she rejected him, but as he trusted the Lord to hold the rock in place, he trusted God to hold their relationship firm.

Though Lexie looked anxious, they all stepped to the rail, awed by the spectacular view.

Cooper spun around, giving him a plaintive look. “I left my camera in the car.”

Though wanting to tell him to wait until later, the boy had lived with waiting much of his life. Ethan held up a finger
and darted back to the car to locate the camera, his mind buzzing with ways to spend more time alone with Lexie.

Cooper’s smile was worth the retrieval. He grasped it and went to work, viewing the scene and snapping photos.

Lexie leaned closer. “You spoil him, Ethan. He’s beginning to think the world revolves around him.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Her scowl melted into a grin. “I guess you’re right.”

Her smile did wonders to his spirit. With his hand in hers, he enjoyed the scenery and the closeness he felt. Lexie and Cooper felt like the family he’d always wanted—father, mother, son sharing a special moment viewing one of God’s amazing creations.

Ethan eyed his watch and veered his attention to Cooper. “Ready, Coop? We want to get settled in the hotel so we can have dinner and check out the village. After that we can see the Canyon as the sun sets.” His gaze shifted to Lexie her hair streaked with gold highlights in the midafternoon sun, her eyes paler than the sky.

She looked at him and smiled.

He gazed at the view and then Lexie. Both spectacular, yet both daunting.

I
mpressed by the rustic charm and elegance of the El Tovar lobby, Lexie approached her suite door with anticipation. Ethan unlocked the door with Cooper at his heels and then turned to beckon her in. “This is your room.”

Cooper tilted his head, a frown growing on his face. “It’s our room.”

Ethan looked uncomfortable. “It’s yours and your mom’s.”

“But where are you staying?” A whine seeped into his voice.

“I’m down the hall. Not too far away.” He pointed down the corridor.

Cooper spun around to face her. “But Mom…?”

She stepped deeper into the room and rolled her carry-on to one of the beds. “Cooper, Ethan needs his own room. He’s right down the hall.” Ethan strode into the room, guilt rising. Her earlier warning to Ethan appeared to be coming true. Cooper believed all of his wishes should come true. This one definitely wouldn’t.

“Take a look here, Coop. Look at this view.” He opened the balcony door and waited for Cooper to join him.

Cooper stopped his moping and headed through the doorway. He jolted to a halt. “Whoa. Mom, come and look.”

Lexie stepped through the doorway and halted. “How did we get a room like this?”

Ethan slipped beside her. “The foundation works their charm. This is a corner suite. The lodge has four of them.”

“Only four, and we’re in one.”

Ethan grinned.

“It’s gorgeous.” She crossed the massive balcony.

He joined her, as he admired the ornate enclosure before gasping at the view.

She touched his arm. “I feel as if I’m hanging over the Grand Canyon. It’s awesome.”

He eased his arm around her back, and she glanced over her shoulder, but Cooper had vanished inside, probably searching for his camera. Having Ethan close and feeling his embrace wrapped her in longing. He leaned closer.

“I’d better get to my room and unpack.”

His breath brushed her cheek, his lips so near. While her heart pounded, she tried to fight the amazing feelings.

Ethan must have sensed it. He lowered his arm and glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back in a half hour for dinner.”

“That’s fine.” He stepped away, and an unpleasant loneliness surrounded her.

“I thought you might like to eat here in the lodge restaurant tonight. We’re all tired, and I know tomorrow will be busy.” His eyes captured hers.

She couldn’t look away, drawn in the whirlpool of his eyes.

Ethan lowered his lips, a kiss so gentle and sweet she longed for more.

A sound came from the room, and Ethan stepped back and moved toward the door as Cooper veered onto the balcony with his camera. “Where are you going?”

“To my room. I need to unpack and get ready for dinner.”

He looked at her. “Can I go with Ethan?”

“No, you need to get ready, too.”

“Mom! Please?”

Her discomfort with nearly being caught churned into irritation. “Cooper, I’m getting—”

“I’ll show him my room and send him right back. How’s that?”

She gave up fighting both of them. “Fine.” She focused on Cooper. “Just hurry back.”

The camera forgotten, Cooper bounded through the doorway with Ethan. Lexie heard the outside door close and sank into the balcony’s wicker chair. The sun warmed her arms as she flung back her head and closed her eyes. Ethan’s kiss rolled through her again. She feared it, but she loved it. He’d become a magnet, drawing her to him without her giving herself permission to fall in love. He’d promised good intentions, and she didn’t doubt that. His faith proved strong, and from what she knew about God’s will, Ethan tried to follow the Word.

Still his romantic overture made her uneasy with Cooper around and more so since she heard Cooper’s expression of love. Somehow she needed to stop Cooper from doing anything else that put her or Ethan in an embarrassing situation. In her heart, despite the lovely kiss, the realization of anything permanent coming from her relationship with Ethan seemed as impossible as ever spending a week in a room like this.

In moments she heard a knock on the door. She rose and crossed the charming suite. When she opened the door, Cooper bounded in. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hallway. “Ethan’s room is right down there, but it’s not big like this room. We have lots of space. Why can’t he stay here?”

Lexie had enough. “Cooper, we need to talk.” She wrapped
her arm around his back and guided him back to the balcony where the sun might brighten her attitude. He was only a child and didn’t understand. She pulled him onto her lap and wrapped her arms around him. “Cooper, Ethan and I aren’t married so we can’t share the suite. Only married people sleep in the same room. I know you think Ethan’s great. But you can’t make things happen that are impossible wishes.” She touched his chin and guided his eyes to hers. “Do you understand?”

He shifted his gaze away. “No.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“I can’t make things happen, but I can pray. Jesus hears prayers.”

Maybe He hears them, but He doesn’t always say yes.
She was sure of that. Her shoulders sank. Prayer was another thing she had to deal with. She drew Cooper closer, her mind searching for a time she could talk with Ethan alone about the situation. But Cooper’s awe of Ethan made private conversation impossible.

“Get your camera.” She gave his arm a pat. “You don’t want to miss the pictures.”

He jumped up and headed inside while she gazed across the magnificent Grand Canyon, the chasm as deep as the abyss she plunged herself into so often.

Ethan gazed out the window at the burnished hues of the Grand Canyon glowing in the setting sun. The faces of the rocks pitted with shadows and light glowed like bright pumpkins filled with candles. The sky, an abstract painting, slashes of colors from purple to red to gold covered the amazing canvas. He drew in a breath and gazed at Lexie, her eyes drowsy but searching the scene like the artist she was, perhaps to hold the vision in her memory palette.

Cooper, elbow propped on table, rested his head on his fist,
and though he’d insisted he wanted dessert, Ethan wondered if he had the strength to hold a fork. “Still hungry, buddy?”

Cooper lifted his eyes, glazed and heavy-lidded. “Tomorrow I’ll have chocolate ice cream.”

“Good decision.” Ethan beckoned the waiter. “Then I think it’s time to go. We’re all tired from the long day.”

He paid the check, knowing this moment with Lexie and Cooper would stay with him forever. Though he longed to slip his hand in Lexie’s, he didn’t. But before they left the suite earlier, she’d made it clear that when Cooper was nearby they were platonic friends. His chest constricted when he thought of ever ending their relationship.

The lodge restaurant had been a good choice. When he reached his room, he paused. “What time would you like to get started in the morning?”

Lexie slowed and faced him. “Would you like to come down for tea…or coffee? I have a coffeemaker in the room.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.” His spirit lifted as he moved into step with her down the hall. “Tea’s fine.”

Inside her suite, Ethan wandered out to the balcony and set a small table beside the wicker chairs. He sank into one, gazing into the darkening sky. The fleeting sunset darkened to a golden glow over the distant rocks and a full moon rose in the distance.

He heard Lexie inside preparing Cooper for bed while he still complained about his stomachache. Moments later, he came out to say good-night and ambled to Ethan’s side. He leaned down and hugged his neck. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Me, too, buddy. I hope you feel better.”

He gave a little wave and wandered back inside. Lexie stayed in the room, and he assumed she was preparing the tea. Minutes later, she appeared with two cups, spotted the table
he’d moved, and set them there. “This has been a wonderful day. Tiring but really great. Anyone who hasn’t seen the Grand Canyon is missing one of the most beautiful natural wonders in this country.”

“I agree.” He lifted the cup and took a sip of the drink. The evening had cooled, and Ethan was glad he’d worn a jacket. “When I look at this expanse, I see God and all His handiwork.”

She remained silent, her gaze sweeping the vista.

He presumed he’d made a mistake bringing it up. Yet since he’d already introduced the subject of faith, this seemed the time to talk. He steeled himself. “Earlier today you asked me again how I could lose a wife and yet still believe.”

“I did.” She reached for her tea and wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “What really troubles me is believing in a God who says He will give you all you ask in prayer, but He doesn’t. He didn’t cure Laine even with your prayers. That’s what I mean.”

Ethan pondered the question again though he’d thought about it during the day. Again he searched for the right words. Lexie’s inquisitiveness encouraged him. She’d asked questions more than once, and he believed she was on the brink of opening her mind and heart to the Lord. But he felt the pressure. Providing the right response rested on him, and he didn’t feel capable.

His chest constricted. Nothing rested on him. Truth and faith rested on the Holy Spirit working through him. He closed his eyes, his prayer rising with the speed of light.

“I don’t understand everything about God, Lexie. So much depends on acceptance and faith. We’ve talked about that often. For example, you know the sun rises in the morning.”

She sat in silence, her expression thoughtful. “Naturally
I know the sun rises in the morning. Is that what you want me to say?”

“It’s something you accept. You don’t doubt it will rise.”

“The sun’s always there so how can I doubt it?”

“That’s the way my faith works. I don’t doubt that God reigns over this earth. That He created it.”

“But I can see the sun. I can’t see God.”

His lungs emptied. “You can see God, too, if you look at this canyon. If you see the amazing things that happen in this world. You feel a breeze, but you don’t see it. Yet it’s real. When you see disabled people rise, no longer ill, and walk away. That’s not only in the Bible. It happens every day. The doctors hold no hope, and the disease vanishes. I’ve seen healing occur with people I know.”

A scowl wrinkled her forehead. “But even if you believe how can you love a God who says no to your prayers?”

His lungs felt empty.
Father, give me words.
His mind surged. “The Lord responds to our prayers with a knowledge that we don’t have, Lexie. I have to trust that He knows what is best. I’m not a preacher, but I accept that God sees the big picture. He knows our needs, and our needs are not always our wants. He comes to us with responses we may not like, but ones that are the best for us. Ones that will protect us or help us grow or save us from a deeper sorrow.” He motioned toward the bedroom. “You do this with Cooper. You told me the other day I had to learn to say no, because what seems best at the time isn’t always the best in the long run.”

She lowered her head, and Ethan waited, giving her time to digest what he’d said. When she looked up, his pulse quickened.

Her gaze met his. “I understand, Ethan. I do say no to Cooper, because I think it’s best for him.”

“And God knows all things. He really knows what is in our best interest even though it seems terrible at the time.”

He dug into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. “When Laine was ill, I struggled with this myself so I talked to our pastor. He gave me a verse that I wrote down, and I still carry it with me. I read it when I’m down or ready to give up.”

Her eyes flickered with interest.

“Do you mind if I read it to you?”

She gave a faint nod, but her eyes said a resounding yes.

He opened his wallet and pulled out a dog-eared card. “It’s from Romans 5. ‘We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.’” He returned the card to his wallet and slipped it back into his pocket. “Do you understand why I still carry it?”

“Then you think when we have problems we learn something from it even though the problem is horrendous.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I suppose I agree with you there. All the problems in my life have helped me become stronger and more determined to survive.” She tilted her head toward the sky. “I wasn’t raised in a faith, but sometimes it makes sense, especially when I look at the beauty of this earth, as you said. I have a difficult time, too, thinking all the things that happened—the faithful of the seasons, the stars and planets forever in orbit—and I have a difficult time believing all of these things were an accident of nature.”

He relaxed as his hope grew.

“Still the Bible’s description is confusing. Six days to create this earth and everything in it?” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Humans look at all of this with finite eyes and minds. God is infinite. We can’t understand it all. His power and
might is beyond our understanding. I suppose that’s why we call it faith.”

Her eyes searched his. “Faith and hope go hand in hand. I do hope, Ethan. Often.”

Her admission fluttered to his heart. A door had been opened tonight. If not a door, a window. It’s what he’d prayed for. He rose and offered her his hands.

In the light seeping from the window, question flickered on her face, but he acted as his heart demanded. When she rose, he led her to the railing and stood a moment, lost in the darkness yet drawn to the glow of the full moon shedding light on the deep canyon. He glided his arm around her back and drew her closer. She tilted her head upward, the moonlight playing on the lines of her lovely face. His lips met hers, warm and soft. Longing rose to make things right, to understand each other, to admit their feelings, but he couldn’t do it alone.

Lexie trembled in his arms, and he forced himself to end the kiss. She’d mentioned fear of her emotions. The two of them were finally on a good course. He wanted nothing to happen that would mess things up now.

He rested his cheek on her sweet-scented hair and gazed at the bright moon. Everything seemed perfect, yet something inside him gnawed at his memory. Lexie had begun the trip upset with him. She couldn’t hide it. Before the trip was over, he longed to understand. The more she opened up the more chance they would have to commit to what could be a beautiful relationship.