bone-weary defeat in Amber’s eyes almost undid him.
She squared her too-thin shoulders. “Please tell your grandmother goodbye for me and the girls. It will break their hearts when I tell them she’s moving away, but I understand, Ethan, that you have to do what you think is best.”
Her blue eyes pooling, she hastily stepped inside the trailer. Leaving him standing on the stoop, staring at the closed door. Questioning if he really knew what was best for his grandmother. Best for himself.
Best for anyone.
Ethan no sooner walked into his grandmother’s hospital room than he realized Grandma Hicks was loaded for bear. And he, apparently, was the bear.
“Before I can be released, the nurse said she has to go over instructions for at-home care with you. Or a responsible adult.” His grandmother sniffed, as if the likelihood of him proving a responsible adult was slim to none. “But we need to talk first.”
Hadn’t he said as much last night?
“GeorgeAnne, IdaLee and I have been thinking on my dilemma.”
Uh-oh. Here comes trouble.
“How about we make a deal?” His grandmother’s blue-denim eyes flashed. “I know how you love a good deal.”
Ethan narrowed his gaze. “What kind of deal, Grandma?”
“I promised Amber I’d take care of the girls until she graduates from nursing school in two months.”
He blew out a breath, praying for patience. “You’re going to be in this cast for weeks. Be reasonable. You can’t possibly take care of two little girls.”
She slitted her eyes at him. “But you can.”
He blinked. Twice. “You want me to nanny two little girls?”
That settled it—Grandma Hicks had officially lost touch with reality.
“Don’t tell me a big, strong marine like you is scared of a couple of four-year-olds?”
“I’d be outnumbered,” he grunted.
“You’re a chicken.”
“I am not a—” He pressed his lips together. “Besides, Amber would never allow her children to be...” He made a face. “To be nannied by me. What do I know about kids?”
“You were a kid once.” Grandma Hicks quirked her eyebrow. “Some would say you’ve never grown up.” She gave him a calculated smile. “But there’s nothing like a kid—or two—to mature a man.”
“I don’t know anything about girls.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “If that’s not the truth...”
“Grandma,” he growled.
“You want me to give up my entire life and come live with you? My friends. My house. My church. My business.” Her gaze locked with his. “I have a proposition for you. Stay with me in Truelove for two months while I finish my convalescence. Take care of the girls until Amber graduates, and then I’ll go with you to Wilmington.”
He frowned. “You’ll actually sell the house? Pull up stakes? Move away? Without protest?”
“I will.” Grandma Hicks lifted her chin. “Do we have ourselves a bargain, Ethan?”
He stared at her. His plan to have Grandma live where he could watch over her lay almost within his grasp. They could spend more time together.
Ice cream. Sand. Ocean waves.
And all he had to do was to consent to this unorthodox arrangement?
It troubled him how he’d left things with Amber. The crushing burden Amber shouldered alone weighed him down. He knew a lot about being alone.
“Amber will never agree, Grandma.”
Her eyebrow rose. “If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll convince her. She values your insight.”
Since when? But he couldn’t afford to relinquish the prospect of getting Grandma to the coast.
“If I agree to this... And it’s a big if...”
His grandmother’s blue-veined hand smoothed the coverlet. “It will work out, Ethan. Trust me.”
Those words coming from Grandma Hicks’s mouth sent a shaft of terror into his heart, only slightly less frightening than the thought of being in charge of four-year-old twins.
Key word—slightly.
Aghast, Amber stared at ErmaJean. “You want me to leave my girls with Ethan?”
The older lady sat in a wheelchair beside the hospital bed, awaiting a physical therapy evaluation. She’d texted Amber late that morning, asking her to visit the hospital before collecting the girls from school.
Ethan had not only installed a new battery into her car, but also managed to leave it parked at the Mason Jar, ready for her once she finished her shift.
“Don’t look at me as if you think I’m crazy.” Clad in a loose, baby-blue velour jogging suit, ErmaJean’s neon pink leg cast stuck out from the foot piece. “It would be entirely under my supervision, of course. And I think there would be lots of advantages to this short-term arrangement.”
Amber shook her head. “Ethan Green? We’re talking about your grandson?”
His grandmother rested her hands on the armrests. “You must finish nursing training, and I promised to take care of the girls.”
Amber threw out her hands. “I don’t expect you to take care of the girls after you broke your leg.”
“I keep my promises, Amber.”
“But, Miss ErmaJean—”
“How will you finish your studies if someone doesn’t take care of the girls for you?”
She wouldn’t be able to finish. In her mind, she’d already composed the email, tendering her withdrawal from the program.
ErmaJean folded her hands in her lap. “Do you have anyone else to take care of the girls?”
Spring was the big season for Callie’s fledgling photography career. She wouldn’t derail her best friend’s dreams.
Biting her lip, Amber looked out the window over the parking lot. “No.”
“Are you concerned that Ethan would harm or allow harm to come to the girls?”
Her gaze snapped to ErmaJean. “Of course not. Ethan would never hurt the girls.”
Ethan Green might be terminally charming and perennially rootless, but she’d spent enough time with her brother’s best friend to know he had a good heart.
“So you think he’s just not responsible enough to be entrusted with their care?”
“No offense, Miss ErmaJean, but your grandson isn’t exactly the poster boy for stick-to-it-iveness.”
“I’m praying he’ll rise as the occasion demands. I’ve always believed there were unplumbed depths to him.” ErmaJean squared her shoulders. “But I would never hazard Lucy’s and Stella’s well-being if you’re opposed to Ethan twin-sitting them. A mother’s instincts must always be heeded.”
Problem was—it wasn’t so much Amber’s motherly instincts that gave her pause as it was the younger Amber who lived somewhere still inside her heart. The one who’d followed her brother and Ethan everywhere. The girl who believed Ethan