A Very Special Delivery

room.”
    “Don’t insult me with money. People help people. This was the right thing to do.” Placing her mug on the counter with a thud, she opened the refrigerator and removed eggs and milk. The sooner he was fed, the sooner he’d be gone. “Will pancakes do?”
    “Pancakes sound awesome.” He lifted the baby onto one shoulder and patted her back.
    Milk in one hand, eggs in the other, Molly stared at the sweet picture of father and daughter. Ethan stopped patting, and Molly realized he was watching her, curiosity in his gaze.
    She whirled back to the counter, dumped flour and sugar into a bowl, cracked two eggs, and stirred in enough milk to make a nice batter. All the while, she felt Ethan’s eyes boring into her back.
    “Have you checked the weather outside yet?” she asked when she could bear the silence no longer.
    “The sleet has stopped and the wind isn’t as stiff, but snow started falling right after I got up. Snow will be treacherous on top of this layer of ice.”
    “I haven’t seen a storm this bad in several years.”
    She set the cast-iron skillet on the stove and in minutes, the sizzle and scent of hot pancakes filled the kitchen.
    “I ran into a storm like this a few years ago when I was still flying. Grounded us for nearly twenty-four hours.”
    Molly turned, surprised and intrigued. “You’re a pilot?”
    “Was. I piloted medi-flight helicopters out of Tulsa.”
    She paused, spatula in the air, and frowned in thought. “Are those the medical helicopters that carry emergency patients to big hospitals?”
    He tipped his head in agreement. “You know your helicopters.”
    “Hey, I watch reality TV, too,” she teased. “You guys are amazing. Did you like it?”
    An odd expression came and went on Ethan’s handsome face, but he teased in return. “Reality TV? Or flying?”
    It was impossible not to like Ethan Hunter. “Flying, silly.”
    “Flying’s the best. I love it.”
    “Now I see why the company sent you to deliver Chester’s medication.” Turning to flip the pancakes, she spoke over one shoulder. “If you love flying so much, why did you stop?”
    He hitched his chin toward the baby asleep on his shoulder. “Laney. The hours were too erratic for a single dad.”
    Though she wanted to know, Molly didn’t think this was a good time to ask about Laney’s mother. From his reaction last night the subject was taboo.
    She set a plate of steaming pancakes on the table in front of him and turned back to the stove. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to flying?”
    “I don’t know. Laney comes first now. After the Lord, of course.”
    He got up, carried the baby into the living room to the makeshift bed on the couch and returned to his pancakes. Molly refilled his coffee cup. Then the hot skillet hissed and sizzled as she poured in more batter.
    “Do you live in this area?” She hadn’t seen him around, but she didn’t socialize as much as she once had.
    A forkfull of syrupy pancake paused in front of his mouth. “I moved into Winding Stair about a month ago. UPS offered a transfer and a raise if I’d drive the area out of Mena. So I came down here from Tulsa and checked out the housing, the churches and the child care in a couple of the towns around.”
    “And Winding Stair filled the bill for all three?” That surprised her, given the housing shortage in the area. Scooping her pancakes onto a plate, she came to sit across the table from him.
    “Winding Stair Chapel felt like home the first time I walked into a service. The people there are so friendly. They helped me find a small apartment and introduced me to the lady who owns the daycare.”
    A stab of longing sliced through Molly.
    Winding Stair Chapel. Her church. Or it had been before Zack’s death.
    She gulped a buttery bite of pancake, felt the lump stick in her throat, and washed it down with coffee.
    As much as she liked Ethan Hunter, she couldn’t wait for him to leave. His presence—and that of his daughter—stirred up too many painful memories. Once he was gone, she’d never have to think about him or see him again, and that was best for all of them.
    A baby’s scream ripped through the house. Molly jumped so hard, she dropped her fork and knocked over the syrup.
    “Hey, are you okay?” Ethan righted the syrup and laid a hand over hers. “You’re shaking.”
    Ethan’s hand felt much better than she wanted it to. Reluctantly, she drew away. “She startled me.”
    “Cry of the