with a start, cold and shivering and nauseous. Despair, or something close to it, settled in her heart, and she sank deeper into the sofa. How had she ended up here? Alone and sad, with no purpose. What kind of life did she have? What kind of life would she give this child?
Her hands drifted over her flat stomach, and when Bilbo whined, something so fierce and protective rose up in her that she began to shake. The dog settled his head against her belly and angled his head up at Emily with a look that sometimes freaked her out because it felt as if the dog could look into her soul.
There was a life here. A life she was responsible for. And maybe she was on her own. Maybe she’d have to do this without any help whatsoever. But so what? The truth was that she had so much love to give, and it was dying inside her. Didn’t her child deserve that? Didn’t he or she deserve at least one parent who gave a crap?
Angrily, she swiped at her face and got to her feet. She put away the groceries that still sat on her counter and made herself a ham and cheese sandwich. She was done feeling sorry for herself. She couldn’t afford to be.
She was having a baby, and judging from Ethan’s reaction, she was having this baby alone. It was time she stopped ignoring that fact.
It was time she stopped being selfish and started living again.
Chapter Three
Ethan made the trip to Crystal Lake a couple of times a month. Generally, it was to catch up with his folks and put their minds at ease, grab some groceries, and take care of any other kind of business that needed taking care of, like banking. He wasn’t the kind of guy who did that stuff online and preferred paper checks as opposed to the virtual kind.
Which was the purpose of his visit today. He’d delivered the shovelhead to a client the next county over, and with a large check in hand, he’d swung by the bank. He made the deposit, paid some bills, and kept his head down and eyes averted. It was the best way to avoid conversation. He was still reeling from Emily’s bombshell and in no mood to speak to anyone. The problem being that old Mrs. Murray wasn’t having any of it, and he’d barely taken two steps away from the bank teller when she cornered him near the exit. She was on her way inside and there was no way to avoid her.
“Why, Ethan Caldwell, I haven’t seen you in ages. How you been keeping out there on the lake?”
Mrs. Murry had been his kindergarten teacher. She was a member of his parents’ church and had run the Sunday school as long as he could remember. He’d known her all his life, it seemed. She was a nice lady. A little nosy, but nice.
“I’m good,” he replied, cracking a smile.
She tugged back the edge of her bright blue wool hat and peered up at him with faded gray eyes that saw everything. For the longest time, she said nothing, and he shuffled his feet, feeling the weight of her gaze. The woman had a knack for seeing through the bullshit, and Ethan decided it was time for him to leave, but she put her hand on his arm and kept him in place.
“You should come back to church, Ethan. I think it will do you some good.”
He attempted another smile, but it fell flat. “I appreciate the concern, Mrs. Murray, but church isn’t what I need.” He paused. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Her hand fell away from him, and she squared her frail shoulders. “You might not be feeling spiritual these days, but you need something, and the Lord’s house is always a good place to start. I know things must be hard for you with Rick’s passing.” She took a step back and smiled. “We have a new pastor. Did you know that?”
He shook his head and grumbled, “No.”
“A young man from California. Mansfield Davis is his name. Isn’t it wonderful? Like a moniker out of some novel.” She winked. “He’s been good for our membership, especially with the young ones. They’ve been coming back in droves. I think you’d like him. He used to be a musician, if you can believe it, before his calling.”
Ethan cleared his throat and nodded toward the door. “I really have to get going.”
“Well, I won’t