A Very Special Delivery

welcomed Molly with a wagging tale and friendly whines, but she’d taken exception when Ethan had begun to dismantle the floor furnace.
    “Daisy doesn’t bite. She was looking for treats.”
    “You calling my leg a doggie treat?”
    Trying to hide her anxiety, Molly managed a smile. Ethan was good at making her forget. “Isn’t that what mailmen are for? Dog treats?”
    “See why I have a goldfish?”
    “Don’t forget the snake and the shark.”
    The waitress arrived, earrings swaying, order pad at the ready. She took one look at her customers and said, “Well, hello, Molly. Haven’t seen you in here in a long time.”
    Though the woman’s tone was friendly, Molly stiffened. The dread expanded in her chest. “Hi, Debbie. How’s the family?”
    “Growing. One more kid and we’ll have to buy a hotel.”
    At the mention of kids, Molly’s pulse rate rocketed. Her insides trembled, but instead of the expected reference to Zack’s death, Debbie pointed her pencil at Ethan and grinned. “Better watch out for this one. He’s trouble.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Positive. Just ask Tom. According to my husband, Ethan cheats at every sport known to man, even in the church fellowship hall.”
    Ethan’s lips twitched.
    Across the room someone hollered, “Hey, Debbie, I need some coffee.”
    “Be there in a sec, Willis.” She hollered back, and then said to Ethan, “Better get moving. What are you two having today? The special is fried chicken.”
    “Sounds good. How about you, Molly?”
    Molly agreed, though as nervous as she was, she doubted her ability to eat a bite.
    Debbie took their order, flipped over their coffee cups and filled them, then whirled away, bantering with customers and refilling cups.
    Ethan folded his arms on the tabletop and leaned toward her. “So how have you been? You’re not limping anymore so I’m guessing the cut healed just fine.”
    “All gone except for a long red line. Doc Jamison says it will fade with time.”
    At the mention of a scar, Ethan’s hand moved to the one dissecting his eyebrow. He smoothed his finger over and over the scar. As before, Molly was tempted to ask about the wound that had caused it, but Ethan didn’t give her a chance.
    “Any progress on the plumbing problem?”
    Moving her gaze from the scar to his eyes, she shook her head. The local plumber was still backed up. “Not yet. How are you and Laney doing since the ice storm?”
    Ethan’s hand paused at his temple, expression tender. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Laney’s awesome.”
    “Growing, I imagine.”
    “Like a weed. She had a cold a couple of weeks ago, but that didn’t slow her down.”
    “A cold?” Her voice rose. “Is she all right?”
    Ethan’s look questioned her. “A cold, Molly. Not the Black Plague. Mrs. Stone brought over some kind of concoction to rub on her chest.”
    Molly tried to relax, but the worry nagged her. Had Laney caught a cold while in her care? Had she caused the sickness by making Ethan and the baby spend five days in the old camper?
    “I’ve used Mrs. Stone’s home remedies,” she finally said. “They’re usually effective. Did it work?”
    “Worked great. Even worked for me.”
    Molly paused from stirring sugar into her coffee.
    As much as she worried about Laney, she worried more about Ethan. He put in long hours in addition to caring for Laney and doing oddjobs for those in need. And there was no one to care for him or Laney if he became ill.
    “Were you sick, too?”
    “Nah. But the smell of that stuff cleaned out my sinuses anyway.”
    Captivated by the pure fun in Ethan’s blue eyes, Molly laughed. Ethan had that power—to make her relax, to help her forget her worries, to remind her that she was a woman.
    Still holding her gaze with his, he rubbed a finger over the back of her hand and grew serious. “I’ve missed you.”
    She’d missed him, too, a troublesome truth.
    Fortunately, she was saved from saying anything when a man paused at their table to chat with Ethan about a hunting lease.
    In the background, plates clattered, voices rose and fell, and occasional laughter broke out around the long room.
    Here were people she’d known all her life. Yet Ethan seemed more comfortable with them than she did. Natural, she supposed, given the cloud of suspicion she’d lived under for so long. Ethan had proven trustworthy. The jury was still out on her.
    Throughout lunch, townspeople continued to stop at their table with