A Very Special Delivery

the couch as he came across the living room and into the dining space. He carried Laney under one arm.
    “Babies do that, I guess. I can’t believe she’s six months old already.”
    Six months. Molly pushed away the reminder of Zack’s age and practiced breath control.
    God has not given me the spirit of fear.
    When she opened her eyes Ethan stood next to her, admiring the craft items spread out on the tabletop.
    “Hey, you’re good at this.”
    His praise was wonderful balm. She tried to concentrate on the bunnies instead of the baby. “It’s a fun hobby.”
    “No. I mean, you’re really good. Not just hobby-good.” He shifted Laney’s weight so that she perched on his narrow hipbone. “You could open a store.”
    “Chloe and I actually considered it before—” She stopped, heart pinching. Setting up a shop with her sister had been a dream they’d both shared.
    Sympathetic blue eyes studied her. “Just the same,” he said gently. “You ought to give the idea some further thought. People love this kind of stuff.”
    Aunt Patsy, who had disappeared into the tiny kitchen, returned with a plate of peanut brittle. “We’ve got at least fifty more of them to make. You any good with a stapler?”
    He grinned and snitched a piece of peanut brittle. “I thought I was here to fix a door.”
    Patsy gently tapped the back of his hand. “Work first. Eat later.”
    “Slave driver,” he said around a bite of the crunchy candy.
    “You had supper yet?”
    “Nope. Lunch was a drive-by burger over in Mena. I was hoping you would feed me a good supper.”
    “Spoiled rotten. That’s what you are.” The twinkle in her eyes conveyed great affection for their guest. From Ethan’s reaction, the feeling was mutual.
    “It’s all your fault. You keep luring me over here with promises of a work-for-food arrangement. Must have been that cardboard sign that did the trick.”
    Molly laughed along with her aunt. The idea of Ethan and a cardboard sign was too funny.
    “I made a casserole,” Patsy said. “Lasagna. Molly and I already ate but there’s plenty left for you.”
    Molly snickered. “Imagine that. She made enough for an army.”
    “And I’m a grateful man.” Grinning, he placed Laney in her aunt’s outstretched arms. “Show me that door. I’m starving.”
    In minutes, he was on his knees at the back door, pounding away. Acutely aware that they were separated by only a few feet, Molly dabbed her brush in bright blue paint and created eyes for her bunnies—eyes that looked like Ethan’s. She wanted to go in the kitchen, sit on the floor and talk to him in the way they did most days at lunch. They always had so much to discuss. But she didn’t want Aunt Patsy getting any more of her ideas.
    Spending time with Ethan at lunch in the company of several dozen senior citizens was far different than seeing him elsewhere. Especially when Laney was along.
    But tonight, for some reason, seeing the baby didn’t stress her as much as she’d feared. There was no tightness in her chest. Her throat was open and she breathed normally.
    But that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Ethan was here. Aunt Patsy was here. Nothing could happen to Laney with them present.
    Aunt Patsy sat at the table bouncing the pink-clad infant on her knee and talking nonsense that had the baby babbling in return.
    Molly glanced up and smiled at the charming scene.
    “She’s a dandy, isn’t she?” Patsy asked, shaking a set of measuring spoons.
    “Beautiful.”
    “And healthy as a horse. I never saw a child so perfect. I bet she’s never sick, is she, Ethan?”
    Screwdriver in hand, Ethan pivoted toward them. “Hardly ever. I’ve been really lucky in that respect.”
    “Some babies are sick a lot the first year. But not Laney. Happy and healthy, she is.”
    Focused on painting the finishing touches on a bow mouth, Molly recognized her aunt’s endearing attempts to assuage her fears.
    “Ethan’s a great dad,” she murmured, glancing up at the handsome man tinkering with the back-door lock.
    “I heard that.” He gave one more twist of the screwdriver, grasped the doorknob and gave it a shake. “There. Done. Safe and secure again.”
    Aunt Patsy rose, Laney in her arms. “Then you’ve earned your supper.” She started around the table and then paused. Behind the wire-framed glasses she peered at her niece. “Want to hold this perfect little doll while I microwave that lasagna?”
    The gentle, loving face of her aunt