to sit. But I got her good this morning, thanks to you.”
“I can make more coffee.” Ethan’s hand was on a stack of file folders. He glanced at her, and his guarded tone suggested he thought she needed several cups to tackle the Blackwell books.
“I’ve been making the effort to switch to tea.” Grace reached inside her purse for her special ginger tea. She was going to need to steep more than one bag this morning. Sitting next to Ethan was unsettling. She cleared her throat to smooth the accusation out of her voice and looked at him. “You’re up early.”
“Trying to get some errands done before Katie notices I’ve left.” Ethan placed a hand on his white knight and started to move the piece, but then paused to consider the chessboard as if everything hinged on this one particular move.
Whereas for Grace, everything hinged on her baby and keeping her stomach from objecting to the morning’s excitement. Would Ethan expect her to say checkmate when she told him about the baby? As if she’d neatly trapped him into being a dad. And what about marriage? She didn’t want Ethan to offer to marry her because she was carrying his child. But would he believe her?
“Keeping ahead of Katie Montgomery is almost as impossible as staying a step ahead of our Gracie.” Pops stuck his elbows out and leaned on his knees, as if anticipating Ethan’s move. As if Ethan proved a challenge to her grandfather. Ethan shifted his knight, taking Pops’s bishop. Pops rubbed his chin. “Sometimes you get lucky.”
Maybe Grace would get lucky and Ethan would confess he’d always wanted to be a father and couldn’t think of another person he wanted to have a child with other than Grace. The tea bag crinkled in her fist. What a ridiculous thought.
Only fools relied on luck. Or her sisters. Especially Sarah Ashley, who had proclaimed her good fortune at meeting Alec in an elevator in Billings. Had she not been running late for a job interview—Sarah Ashley had been late for her own birth by five days and hadn’t ever caught up—she’d have missed Alec’s elevator completely. Sarah Ashley believed fate wanted her to be late. Grace believed in punctuality and relying on herself to ensure her own good fortune.
Ethan picked up Pops’s bishop and used the chess piece to point down the street. “I’m just hoping the bank opens before the hedgehog arrives.”
“Hedgehog?” Grace repeated, trying to latch onto something logical. Yet there was nothing logical about a hedgehog’s arrival in Falcon Creek. Or sitting beside Ethan, while he played chess with Pops. She considered betting on luck.
“Zoe decided the ranch needed a petting zoo.” Ethan’s voice dipped low with disapproval.
Grace pretended Ethan censured her for thinking for one second she could believe in fate to right her world. “But I thought Zoe had left in the motor home with Big E.”
“She ordered the animals before they drove off.” Ethan slid back in his chair and waited for Pops to make his next move. “Animals have been arriving since last week.”
Pops grimaced. “That woman is her own walking zoo with all the fur she wears. She certainly likes to live a pampered life.”
Grace never wanted to be coddled. But she wouldn’t object to an hour of pampering.
Ethan rubbed his hand over his mouth, but laughter escaped.
Grace, trying to rock a scold into her voice for her own sake and her grandfather’s, said, “Pops, you told me never to talk unkindly about our neighbors. They might need us someday or we might need them, right?”
“Zoe Petit would be the last person I’d be looking to if I needed help opening Brewster’s front door.” Pops removed his cowboy hat and scrubbed his fingers through his silver hair, his focus remained on the chessboard as if Ethan’s move had really stumped him. “No offense, son.”
“She isn’t my grandmother. She’s wife number six.” Ethan’s voice was detached and his tone flat as if he were rattling off the phone number for the dry cleaner two towns over.
Would he be just as detached when she told him about the baby? Would his sense of responsibility force him to offer to marry her in that same flat tone?
Grace shifted to study Ethan’s profile without being too obvious. He seemed so sober. She wondered if Ethan would be like Big E, constantly searching for a better bride. Or would Ethan find one woman and stick with that one marriage like Grace’s parents and grandparents? She gripped the chair arms and shook her head. Ethan Blackwell and his marrying preferences were the least of her concerns.
“That was five wives too many.” Pops edged his knight toward the center of the board. “I bet Big E is looking for a place to hide from Zoe right this minute. He has to be worn-out from all the money she likes to spend on silly, expensive things.”
Grace admonished her grandfather, drawing out Pops’s name into a three-syllable word.
He shrugged and eyed Ethan. “A flea has more ranch in it than that woman.”
Ethan made a counterattack and earned a grunt of approval from Pops.
“Your grandmother, Dorothy Blackwell, was just like my Sandy. Thoughtful, caring and loyal.” Pops defended his king and focused on Ethan. His voice lowered, dipping into the serious as if he was about to impart the one secret to life. “Find a woman like them, son, and you keep ’em forever.”
Pops tipped his chin toward Grace, but held Ethan’s stare.
Surely her grandfather hadn’t just suggested Ethan keep Grace. Pops grew up with seven brothers. He’d never been taught the sister code, didn’t know the lesson about little sisters not dating their older sister’s ex-boyfriend. Grace jumped up. “Since I have some time before we open here, I’m going to head over to South Corner Drug & Sundries.”
“I’ll join you.” Ethan stood and stretched his arms over his head.
“That’s not necessary.” Grace reached down for her purse, but the leather strap hooked on her shoe.
“I need special supplements mixed for one of the mares.” Ethan freed her purse, but the frenzy inside Grace failed to disappear. Ethan continued, his voice calm, as if he knew Grace needed a distraction, “Zoe decided both mares should have foals at the same time. Better photo opportunities for the guests at the ranch.”
“Fleas have more sense.” Pops’s scowl was etched deep in his gruff voice.
And Grace had lost her sense too. Grace snatched her purse from Ethan, snatching her common sense back, and hurried to leave.
“Gracie, slow down and let your Ethan walk with you,” Pops called out. “Everyone’s in such a rush these days.”
Grace was in a rush all right. A rush to get away from Ethan and her grandfather’s innuendos. Why did Pops insist on referring to Ethan as her Ethan? He wasn’t hers any more than the falcons belonged to Falcon Creek.
Ethan’s long strides matched hers with ease. At least she’d escaped Pops’s speculation. Ethan would prove harder to deter. She had one confession that might send him running. The words lodged in her throat again. “Sorry about Pops.”
“There’s no need.” Ethan turned his baseball cap around and pulled the bill low on his forehead, as if he wanted to conceal his face from onlookers. As if he didn’t want to be seen with Grace.
Ethan added, “I’d spend the day on the porch with Pops if I could.”
Grace glanced at him. His voice lacked sarcasm and his expression was thoughtful. His sincerity touched her and she forgave him for not wanting to be seen with her. After all, she adored her grandfather and liked anyone who cared about Pops. “He requires a good dose of patience. Too much for most of the locals.”
Ethan held open the door to South Corner Drug and motioned Grace inside. “I’m not most people.”
She knew that all too well. He was the father