you get hurt?"
She sobbed out a breath, pressed a hand to her heart. Oh, yes, oh, yes,
I'm hurt. "It's nothing. I have to go home. I can't--I can't stay."
She tore open the car door, stumbled inside.
Seth's eyes went from puzzled to grim as he watched her drive away. Hot
with fury, he stormed around the side of the house, slapping the bright
jar on the edge of the porch. He saw the shadow on the dock and strode
toward it with fists clenched for battle.
"You bastard. You son of a bitch." He waited until Ethan turned, then
rammed his fist as hard as he could into his gut. "You made her cry."
"I know I did." The fresh and physical pain jolted through him, and
joined the rest. "This isn't your business, Seth. Go on in the house."
"Fuck you. You hurt her. Go on, try to hurt me. It won't be so easy."
Teeth bared, Seth swung again, and again, until Ethan picked him up by
collar and seat and held him dangling over the end of the dock.
"Cool off, you hear, or I'll toss you in." He added a hard, threatening
shake, but his heart wasn't in it. "You think I wanted to hurt her? You
think I got any pleasure out of it?"
"Then why did you?" Seth shouted, struggling like a baited fish.
"There wasn't any choice." Suddenly abominably weary, Ethan dropped Seth
to his feet on the dock. "Leave me alone," he murmured and sat on the
edge. Giving in, he put his head in his hands, pressed his fingers to
his eyes. "Just leave me alone."
Seth shifted his feet. It wasn't just Grace who was hurt. He hadn't
really understood that a grown man could be, not this way. But Ethan
was. Tentatively, he stepped forward. He stuck his hands in his pockets,
pulled them out. Shuffled. Sighed. Then sat.
"Women," Seth said in a level and considering voice, "make a man want to
shoot himself in the head and be done with it." It was something he'd
heard Phillip say to Cam, and he thought it might be appropriate. He was
rewarded when Ethan let out a short laugh, even if it wasn't a happy
one.
"Yeah, I guess they can." Ethan draped an arm around Seth's shoulders,
pulled the boy close to his side. And took a little comfort.
Chapter Eighteen
anna weighed her priorities--and took the day off. She couldn't be sure
what time Grace would be by to tend the house, and she couldn't risk
missing her.
She didn't give a good damn what Ethan said--or didn't say. There was a
crisis.
If she'd believed they'd simply had a spat or misunderstanding, she
would have been sympathetic or amused, whichever was most called for. It
wasn't a misunderstanding that had put misery into Ethan's eyes. Oh, he
had a way of hiding it, she mused as she slowly and ruthlessly tugged
out weeds that threatened her begonias in the front-yard bed. And he hid
his more personal feelings very well. It just so happened she was a
professional at filtering through to emotion.
Too bad for him that he'd inherited a social worker for a sister-in-law.
She'd poked at Seth a bit. There was no doubt in her mind the boy knew