kids so she can finish her nursing degree.”
“Why did no one tell me that Amber is married?”
His grandmother gave him a cockeyed glance. “Didn’t realize you were interested in Amber’s marital status.” She moistened her lips. “And it’s married as in the past tense. When she got pregnant with the girls—”
“What happened, Grandma? To Amber and...” He made a face. “The guy.”
“You mean her husband?” For a second, something appeared to amuse his grandmother. Then her smile faded. “Tony told Amber he didn’t sign up for parenthood.”
Just like his own deadbeat excuse for a father. Anger roiled in Ethan’s belly.
“I still don’t get how this involves you.” He frowned. “And I’m surprised Amber asked you to take care of her children.”
“Which part comes as a surprise to you?” Grandma arched her brow. “That I adore children or that I’m still capable of taking care of them?”
Somewhere he and Grandma had gotten off on the wrong foot. She appeared determined to take offense at every turn.
“Amber didn’t ask. But juggling work, school and the kids...” His grandmother’s shoulders rose and fell. “It was too much. Something had to give.” She smiled at him. “So I decided to give. I’ve had so much fun with them.”
Ethan fisted his hands. “Where’s their father?”
“Tony declared himself tired of being married. Abandoned her before the girls were even born, so Amber came home where she belonged.” Grandma Hicks raised her eyebrow. “To the people who love her.”
An unmistakable challenge gleamed in his grandmother’s bright blue eyes. In her opinion, Amber wasn’t the only one who needed to come home. But besides Grandma, there was no one else who loved him.
“You won’t reconsider moving to Wilmington?”
She gave him the Look.
“We’re not done with this conversation, Grandma.”
She sniffed. “You might not be, but I am.”
“Grand—”
“Don’t you Grandma me.” She laced her hands on top of the coverlet. “I’m Truelove born. I’m Truelove bred. And here I’ll remain until I’m Truelove dead.”
Exactly what he feared most.
“With the cast, you’re not going to be able to take care of yourself for a while. You have to come to Wilmington with me.”
“Don’t assume you know what’s best for me. I don’t have to do anything but die and pay taxes.”
He gritted his teeth. “Grandma, please. Be reasonable.”
“You’re the one being unreasonable.” She stuck her nose in the air. “You’ve seen me. I’ll mend. Put your conscience at ease. I have plenty of friends who will look out for me during my recovery. You’re under no obligation to stay. Feel free to get on that death-mobile of yours and head for the surf.”
He tightened his jaw. “You’re kicking me out? Out of town and your life?”
The lines in her face deepened. “No, honey. I told you when your dad left and then your mom remarried—we’re lifers, you and me. Together forever.”
“Just not in the same place at the same time, though?”
“Try to understand, Ethan.” His grandmother’s voice softened. “I have responsibilities here and a full life I’m not ready to abandon.”
He ran his hand over his head, spiking his hair with his fingers. How could he persuade her to come with him? What could he do to change her mind?
“I’m going to pray on the situation and I suggest you do the same. Go to the house. Maybe in the morning, you’ll be able to think more clearly.”
He scrubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t him who needed to think more clearly. But she was right. It had been a long day for both of them. Better to let both their tempers cool before either of them said or did something from which there might be no retreat.
Ethan gave his grandmother a quick peck on the cheek. “Tomorrow,” he growled. “Decisions have to be made.”
Hand to her forehead, she gave him a snappy salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”
“I was a marine, not navy.”
She winked at him. “Good night, honey. I love you.”
He sighed. “I love you, too, Grandma.”
It was dark when he left the hospital. And despite being April, once the sun set behind the Blue Ridge Mountains, the night turned cool. It was only a short drive to Grandma’s rambling bungalow.
Bone tired, he let himself into the house and stumbled toward his old bedroom. Not bothering to switch on a light or undress, he threw his duffel onto the floor, laid his cell on the nightstand and crawled beneath the quilt.
Hours later, he awoke to an insistent buzz from his phone on the nightstand. Groggy, he checked the incoming text message. Emergency. Call me. Now. Grandma.
Since when did ErmaJean Hicks text? Although if anybody in her generation would learn to text, it would be his talk-to-a-signpost grandmother. Throwing off the covers, he slung his legs over the side of the bed.
He dialed her number. Surely if she’d taken a turn for the worse, a doctor or nurse would be calling him, not his grandmother. His temples throbbed.
“Grandma?” he barked into the phone. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Raking his hand over his face, he willed his pulse to settle. “You scared me to death.”
“GeorgeAnne just texted me. Amber never made it home. After her night class ended, she ought to have been home by ten-thirty at the latest. GeorgeAnne fell asleep on the couch waiting for her. Or she would’ve contacted me sooner.”
He leaned forward, the cell tucked between his shoulder and his ear. “Shouldn’t we call Amber’s dad, Dwight?”
“Amber wouldn’t thank us for involving him. There’s other stuff going on I haven’t had time to share with you.”
“What about calling the sheriff’s office?”
“She’d be mortified if I brought the police into this. She’s probably in the school parking lot trying to get that old clunker of hers started.”
“All night?” His voice rose. “What if she’s stranded on some deserted mountain road?”
Suppose her brakes had failed? His gut seized. The stretch of highway between the campus and town was notorious for its switchbacks and sheer drop-offs.
But it would do no good to mention that. His grandmother was worried enough already.
“I—I shouldn’t have bothered you.” Her voice quavered. “But GeorgeAnne and I thought it might be better if it was you who went looking.”
“You did the right thing, Grandma.” His bare feet hit the floor with a thud. “I’m heading out now.”
His grandmother emitted an audible sigh. “Thank you, Ethan. This may change your plans for tomorrow.”
“It’s already tomorrow.”
“The girls have already lost one parent, Ethan. You—you know what that’s like.”
He did know. Phone pressed against his ear, he hurriedly dressed. “Don’t worry. I’m on it. I won’t stop looking until I find Amber and bring her home.”
But what if something unthinkable