A Very Special Delivery (4 page)

“Oh, no.” Apprehension crept up her spine. He had to leave. He had to take that baby out of her house.

“Sorry.” His mouth turned grim as he said the words Molly dreaded. “But none of us is going anywhere today—or maybe for a lot longer.”

Chapter Four

“I
could try walking into town,” Ethan said. Given the expression on Molly’s face he thought maybe he should at least try.

“Don’t be silly. You nearly froze last night. We’re safe and snug here so we’ll make do until things begin to thaw out in a day or two.” An attractive little frown pinched her eyebrows together. “Water will be our primary problem, but there’s plenty of that frozen in the yard.”

The tightness in his shoulders relaxed. He appreciated her practical attitude even if she wasn’t thrilled to have him as a house guest. “Got more buckets? I can start chipping ice.”

“The big stock pots are in the storage room. They’ll have to do.”

“I’ll get them. Which way?”

“Back through here.” She motioned through the kitchen and down a hallway. “But I can do it.”

“That’s okay. I might as well learn the lay of the land if I’m going to be here for a while.”

Following her directions, he went through the door at the end of the hall only to see more rooms beyond. The old house seemed to ramble on forever. No wonder she didn’t heat this section.

He opened the first room, spotted an old table loaded with boxes and assumed he’d found the storage area. He went inside to hunt for the pots.

He found something else instead. Familiar packages. UPS boxes. Most from children’s stores. All of them recent additions to the room. All filled with kids’ stuff.

“What is all this?” he murmured, gazing around at the surprising contents.

A stack of new sweatshirts and jeans and several pairs of tennis shoes had been transferred from their original packages into a larger box addressed to Hillside Children’s Home. Another box appeared to be a work in progress, containing only a handful of toys. Catalogs lay strewn about, open to the kids’ pages with certain items circled in red pen.

Either Molly belonged to some sort of charitable group that collected clothes and toys for needy children or she spent a lot of time and money doing the job on her own.

Either option seemed strange to him, considering her reaction to Laney.

What was the truth about Molly and kids?

More curious than ever about his hostess, he left the room to complete his original errand, returning to the kitchen with two stainless steel pots in hand and a lot of unanswered questions in his head.

He found Molly still in the kitchen, except now she stood on a chair rummaging in the upper cabinets.

Holding up the pots, he said, “Found them.”

She looked down at him and smiled. “I know I have some candles up here somewhere. Oh, here we go.” She handed him a tall pillar. “I was thinking. What about Laney? Do you have everything you need for her?”

“Enough formula and diapers to last a day or two—maybe more.” No point worrying about that yet.

She stuck her head back inside the cabinet, muffling her voice. “Then we’ll just pray we can get out of here before she runs out.”

“God won’t let us down. He brought us this far.”

Molly closed the cabinet door and turned, frowning. “Are you saying God had something to do with you getting stranded here?”

She started down from her perch and Ethan reached to offer a hand. Her cool skin felt almost as soft as Laney’s.

“All I know is that I was meant to deliver that gamma last night.”

She took the candles from him. “Because God told you to?”

He shifted uncomfortably. Some of his friends and family rolled their eyes when he tried to explain that still, small voice that spoke from somewhere deep inside him. Would she?

“Not in audible words, no. But somehow, on the inside of me—” he tapped his chest “—I heard Him.”

Molly’s tea-colored eyes grew thoughtful. “That’s true. Sometimes you just know.”

Relieved that she understood, Ethan smiled. “Exactly.”

Lots of people thought he’d gone goofy since accepting Christ. And sometimes the criticism, the veiled sarcasm, hurt. He’d gone goofy all right, but in a way that filled him with a peace and reassurance he’d searched for all his adult life.

“What about Chester?” she peered inside a lower cabinet, came out with box of matches which she set on the counter. “If you were supposed to give his chemo and you’re stuck here, how he is going to get his next dose?”

“By some miracle the Stubbses still had phone service. I contacted my company. They’ll make arrangements for a chopper to take him to the hospital for treatments until the roads clear.”

He didn’t want to think about what might happen if the storm cranked up again. He’d done all he could. The rest was in God’s hands.

“I’m glad. The Stubbses are good people.” She glanced out the window above the sink. Two parallel lines between her pale brown eyebrows deepened. “What about the broken power line? Are we safe with all those volts bouncing around?”

“As long as we stay away from the garage.” Years of flying low and watching out for electrical lines had taught him to be wary, but Ethan was still amazed that he had heard the sizzling electricity in time. What if he had touched that garage door? He shuddered to think what might have happened. Not just to him, but to Molly.

Which brought him back to her earlier question.

Was being stranded here, on this particular farm, with this particular woman, a part of some divine plan?

* * *

Snow fell for the rest of the day, but the sleet
and wind seemed, mercifully, to have passed. Regardless of the discomfort of having a stranger—and a baby—in her house, Molly thought the day progressed reasonably well. In truth, Ethan Hunter was easy to be around and his masculine presence was a comfort. The fact that he spoke openly about his faith reassured her in ways she didn’t understand or question.

The baby was another matter altogether, but with Ethan present, Laney was in no danger. And Molly would somehow handle the constant fear of a humiliating panic attack.

Together she and Ethan devised a simple plan for making the fuel and food last. Then, while she organized the meals and melted water, Ethan had brought in ice and firewood. He had also checked the sagging, ice-laden power lines around the house and fretted over the huge trees bowing over the porch roof. Most importantly he had not expected her to take care of Laney just because she was a woman. She was particularly grateful for that, though each time he ventured outdoors, she counted the minutes until his return.

After putting the last of the supper dishes away, she wiped her hands on a towel. Heating dishwater on the gas stove gave her a new appreciation of pioneer women.

From the living room she heard Laney’s baby voice and Ethan’s manly one. He was giving his daughter a sponge bath in front of the fireplace. Hoping for one of those herself later, Molly filled another kettle and placed it on the burner before going into the living room.

The diapered baby lay on a quilt, tiny legs and arms bicycling for all she was worth. Her round face was alive with interest as Ethan, on his knees beside her, carried on a one-sided conversation.

“Are you Daddy’s angel girl?” he asked, leaning over her.

Baby Laney cooed in response and slammed one little fist against the side of his face.

Ethan laughed and nuzzled the rounded belly, an action that sent Laney’s arms and legs into fast motion.

Suddenly, he scooped the child into his big hands and lifted her overhead, waggling her gently from side to side. Laney’s toothless mouth spread wide and a delighted gurgle filled the dimly lit living room.

Molly felt a catch beneath her ribs at the pleasure father and daughter found in one another. There was something beautiful and pure in that kind of love.

Tears pricked at her eyelids. A deep, tearing need took her breath, and she turned back toward the kitchen.

Outside, snow still fell in spits and spurts, skinny flakes that were as much ice as snow. Darkness descended, though the time was not yet six o’clock. Anything that had dared to thaw would soon refreeze.

With no electricity for reading and no TV, the evening with Ethan and his daughter would be a long one. He was a great guy, an attractive man, but he was also a father. Wouldn’t he be horrified to know she had been investigated by the police for a baby’s death?

The familiar wrench of sadness twisted in her chest.

She stood at the kitchen sink and stared out at the descending night, wishing for what could not be. According to Aunt Patsy she had to stop dwelling on the unchangeable. For a while she had begun to think she had—until the UPS man arrived with his unexpected delivery to remind her of all she’d lost and all she wanted but could never have.

A part of her wondered why the Lord had allowed her nephew’s tragic death. And why He had allowed her Christian sister to turn against her.

Shivering, she rubbed her arms and tried to put aside the morbid thoughts. Some questions were unanswerable.

When she returned to the living room, Laney
was dressed in red footed pajamas, her face shiny and pink from the bath, and her dark hair neatly smoothed. Cradled in Ethan’s arms, eyes wide and earnest, she eagerly sucked down her supper.

A kerosene lantern which Ethan had carried in from the camper sat on the coffee table and cast a shadowy, golden glow over the man and child. Coupled with the fireplace, it shed an adequate, if dim light.

Molly settled into the easy chair opposite Ethan’s, curling her legs beneath her.

“You’re a good dad.” It was true. She’d rarely seen a man so attuned to his child.

“I’m trying.” He slid the empty bottle from the baby’s mouth and lifted her against his shoulder for burping. “I made a lot of stupid mistakes before Laney came along. I don’t want her to suffer for them.”

Molly wondered if Laney’s mother was one of those mistakes.

“Everybody has regrets.” Recalling the way her mother and sister had turned their backs on her, sadness lay like a rock in her stomach. “Some you never get over.”

Gaze steady, he patted Laney’s back. “You talking from personal experience?”

She rose and moved to the fireplace, her back to Ethan. Why had she said anything at all? Sure, she was on edge with a baby underfoot, but Aunt Patsy was the only person she ever talked to about Chloe and the loss of baby Zack.

A log burned in two, snapped and fell, sending a shower of sparks upward like a Roman candle.

“Molly.” Ethan’s voice was quiet. “Would you like Laney and me to head out to the camper so you can have some peace and quiet?”

No more questions. No prying. Just consideration. How could she be inhospitable to such a man?

This whole situation must be as miserable for Ethan as for her. Stuck here in a stranger’s home with an infant to care for, low on formula, no power, and completely out of his comfort zone. And yet, he was cheerful about the entire mess.

Shame spread through her. Neither Ethan nor Laney were to blame for her personal agony. If she were the Christian she claimed to be, she would be thinking of them instead of herself.

“I don’t want you to go.” Then she blushed at how that sounded. “I mean, I’d enjoy your company if you’d like to stay longer.”

He spread his hands wide, lips tilting as he looked around the room. “No TV. No stereo. No computer. We might have to carry on a conversation.”

Molly caught the twinkle in his eye and played along. “Could be scary.”

“You could tell me about yourself.”

She tensed, then realized she could talk without revealing too much. “I’m not very fascinating.”

“Let me be the judge of that. Tell me about your job, what you like to do, that sort of thing.”

She curled her legs under her again and sat down. “It’s a rare man that enjoys conversation.”

He laughed. “As I said. No TV.”

“You go first.”

“Cheater.” But he did, telling her about his mother and dad in Tulsa, a married brother in the service in North Carolina, his job and his love of flying. She noticed one glaring omission. He did not mention Laney’s mother.

And in turn, she told him of her short-lived college days, about her crafting hobbies and her job at the senior citizens’ center.

“What about your family?” he asked when she’d told him all she was willing to share.

Molly tensed. “I don’t see them much.”

The answer was abrupt, bringing a tension into the cozy room that hovered for several beats like a winged creature. Then, as if he knew he’d touched a nerve, Ethan shifted gears. “Tell me about your other hobby. Or is that also a taboo topic?”

“My other hobby? I don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw the boxes in the back room.”

Molly’s hand stilled on the rough upholstery. So he’d discovered her penance. She swallowed hard before answering in an intentionally light voice.
“Oh, that. I have a soft spot for kids who don’t have much.”

“That says a lot about you.”

Molly didn’t want him thinking she was some unselfish saint. She wasn’t. Giving to needy kids eased the awful ache inside her.

“No big deal. A little money out of each paycheck. I hardly miss it.” She popped up from the chair, eager to change the subject. He was indeed, treading on dangerous ground. “Would you like some popcorn?”

Ethan’s blue eyes turned violet in the lamplight. He studied her for a fraction of a second as if he was not fooled by her ploy. Finally, when Molly had grown uncomfortable from the silence, he said, “Is it humanly possible to make popcorn without a microwave?”

Relieved, she grinned. “That remains to be seen.”

Ethan laid the wiggling baby on a quilt and stood. “You make popcorn. I’ll set out those dominoes you found this afternoon.”

“Deal.”

By the time the popcorn’s buttery scent filled the house, Ethan had rearranged the living room so that two chairs bracketed the coffee table in front of the fireplace. The yellow light from a kerosene lamp tossed shadows onto the walls and ceiling.

Outside the wind howled and the occasional crusted tree limb scraped the windows and siding, but the old farmhouse remained cozy and warm. Molly placed the heaping bowl of popcorn at one end of the rectangular table, and curled into her chair. Samson jumped onto her lap.

“Dumb cat,” she said affectionately, resting one hand on his head. “How am I supposed to play dominoes with you in the way?”