A Very Special Delivery

affronted hiss and hitched her narrow chin.
    Ethan couldn’t believe this woman. She seemed to believe she had a right to treat her sister with such cruelty.
    Molly leaped up and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I’ll wait in the truck.”
    As she brushed past her trembling sister, Molly whispered, “I love you,” and Ethan thought either his heart would break or his anger would explode.
    He made his way to the cash register, aware of the whispers coming from the other tables, but too concerned about Molly to listen. After settling the bill, he hurried out to the truck.
    Once inside, he started the vehicle to ward off the chill and then turned sideways in the seat. “What was that all about?”
    Molly still shook like a wet kitten. “Nothing. Just take me back to the center.”
    He clenched his jaw, fighting off the very real threat of his temper. “No way. This vehicle doesn’t move until you talk to me.”
    He’d had all of her secrets he was willing to take. They’d been strangers before so he hadn’t pried, but now he was a friend. And friends helped each other.
    Her hand went to her throat again in that anxious action he’d witnessed far too often. “I can’t talk about it, Ethan. You’ll hate me.”
    Hate her? She was making less sense than her sister had. But whatever troubled her cut deep and lay like a boulder on her slender shoulders. Having him lash out, too, wasn’t the way to help.
    Without stopping to think about it, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She needed comfort. He could give it.
    As soon as her forehead touched his shoulder, she broke. All the resolute composure he’d observed during the confrontation with her sister gave way to tortured sobs.
    As much as Ethan hated for a woman to cry, Molly needed this. Heavy-hearted, bewildered and worried, he stroked her silky hair and let her cry herself out.
    There had been a time in his own life when he had needed someone this way. Thank God his parents had been there ready to catch him when he’d fallen. From the looks of things, Molly didn’t have that safety net.
    When the storm of tears passed she tried to pull away, but he held her fast against the damp shoulder of his coat. She required little resistance to keep her there, and he wondered how long it had been since Molly had had a shoulder to cry on.
    Holding her was a simple thing to do. And, regardless of the circumstances, he liked having her in his arms. She smelled like the vanilla candles his mother liked so much. He liked them, too, more now than ever.
    The foolish thought flitted through his head that he would buy one for his apartment and burn it whenever he wanted to think of Molly.
    Disgruntled by such silliness, he shoved the idea away. Right now, something way more serious than Molly’s sweet vanilla scent weighed on him.
    He needed to know what terrible secret had torn her family apart. And was still tearing her apart.
    Gradually, the tremors in her body subsided to occasional jerks and sniffs. When at last she lifted her head, he smoothed the hair back from her tear-streaked face.
    “How can I help you fix this if you don’t tell me?” His throat was thick with more emotion than he normally wanted to deal with. Molly had that strange effect on him.
    Averting her face, she grappled in her coat pocket and came up with a tissue.
    “Some things can’t be fixed, Ethan.” Her voice, too, was wrought with emotion, only hers carried the added layer of sorrow.
    “Not true. God can fix anything.” Didn’t he know from personal experience? “Maybe not in the way we expect, but He can make things right again.”
    “Chloe won’t let Him. Won’t even try.”
    “Why not?”
    She lifted puffy, red eyes that tore at his heart and brought the anger surging up inside him again. Somebody needed their heads cracked for this. Two years ago, he’d happily have done the honors. If nothing else his walk with Christ had helped him see the futility in such behavior. It hadn’t, unfortunately, taken away his natural inclination to take matters into his own hands.
    “I hurt her, Ethan. I wronged her in the most terrible way.”
    “What did you do that could have been that bad?”
    She fell silent for a moment while the hum of the heater filled the space between them with sound and warmth. He could see the war going on inside her. She didn’t want to go there, and yet she couldn’t escape the memory.
    Shoulders hunched, she took a deep breath and