Chapter 14 #2
They sledded for hours. Ethan lost count of how many runs he made, sometimes with Rosie on his lap, squealing directions, sometimes racing Caleb down the hill like they were ten years old themselves.
His legs burned from trudging up the slope, his face went numb from the cold, and his jacket was soaked through from the snow.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.
Lydia caught him watching her at one point.
She’d just completed an impressively fast run and was lying in the snow at the bottom, laughing breathlessly, her cheeks flushed pink and her hair escaping from her knit cap in wild tangles.
Their eyes met across the distance, and something passed between them.
Something warm and knowing and full of promise.
By mid-afternoon, the kids were starting to flag. Rosie had face-planted twice in the last ten minutes, and Eli’s protests that he wasn’t tired were undercut by the yawn he couldn’t quite suppress.
“Hot chocolate?” Ethan suggested, and got two exhausted but enthusiastic nods.
They gathered at a picnic table near the parking lot, bundled in their damp gear, passing around thermoses of hot chocolate that was still blessedly warm.
Caleb had brought cookies, too. Oatmeal raisin, which Eli declared “almost as good as Mom’s,” and they sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun begin its descent toward the western peaks.
“Thank you for this,” Lydia said quietly, her hand finding Ethan’s under the table. “This was … perfect.”
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “It really was.”
The drive home was quieter, the kids dozing in the back seat, their heads leaning against each other. Ethan drove carefully through the gathering dusk, the winding mountain roads darker now, his headlights cutting through the twilight.
Back at the house, they peeled off wet clothes and hung everything to dry by the woodstove. Ethan threw together a quick supper, grilled cheese and tomato soup, nothing fancy. They ate at the kitchen table while the kids chattered about the day’s adventures, revived by the food.
“I went the fastest,” Rosie declared.
“Did not,” Eli countered. “Caleb went the fastest.”
“I went the fastest of the kids.”
“Still not true.”
“Is too!”
“Kids,” Lydia said, but she was smiling. “How about you both went very fast and we don’t need to make it a competition?”
They grumbled but accepted this compromise, and the meal finished in relative peace. After supper, Lydia herded them toward the living room with promises of a movie, leaving Ethan to clean up.
He was just finishing the dishes when the pounding started.
Not knocking. Pounding. Hard, aggressive blows that rattled the front door in its frame and sent Ethan’s heart rate skyrocketing. His combat instincts kicked in immediately. Assess, plan, act. He was moving toward the door before conscious thought caught up.
Through the window, he could see a man on the porch. Stocky build running to fat, thinning reddish hair, coat hanging open despite the cold. His face was flushed, from anger or alcohol, but probably both. His eyes had that wild, unfocused quality that made every hair on Ethan’s neck stand up.
Tom Redding. Had to be. The timing, the rage, the way he was swaying slightly, even standing still.
Ethan opened the door before the man could pound again, but he didn’t step back. Didn’t create space or show any weakness. Just stood in the doorway, blocking access to the house, his body language making it clear that entry would require going through him.
“Help you?” Ethan asked, his voice cold and flat. The voice he’d used in Kandahar when dealing with potential threats.
“Where is she?” Tom’s words were slurred but understandable, whiskey breath hitting Ethan like a wave. “Where’s the bitch who stole my kids?”
“Lower your voice,” Ethan said quietly, but there was steel underneath. “There are children inside.”
“MY children!” Tom roared, lurching forward. “She took them! Had no right! They belong with me, and I’m taking them back RIGHT NOW, or I swear to God I’ll burn this fucking house down with everyone in it!”
Behind Ethan, he heard a small gasp. Turned his head just enough to see Rosie standing in the hallway, her eyes huge and terrified, her gray bunny clutched to her chest.
Damn it.
“Living room. Now,” Ethan said sharply to Rosie.
She fled, and Ethan stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind him. Putting himself between Tom Redding and the people inside who mattered. The cold bit into his skin, he was still just in jeans and a T-shirt from cleaning up supper, but he ignored it.
“You need to leave,” Ethan said, keeping his voice level. “Right now. Before this gets worse.”
“Worse?” Tom laughed, the sound ugly and bitter. “How’s it gonna get worse? She destroyed my life! Took my kids, poisoned them against me, and ran away like a thief in the night. And you—” He jabbed a finger at Ethan’s chest. “you’re helping her. Playing house with MY family.”
“Lydia has sole custody,” Ethan said. “Court-ordered. You have no legal right to those children.”
“I’m their FATHER!”
“You’re a drunk who endangered them.” Ethan’s voice went colder. “You drove with your little girl in the car. Put her at risk. Lost your visitation rights because you couldn’t stay sober long enough to be trusted with your own children.”
Tom’s face went purple. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Someone who cares about their safety. Which is apparently more than you can say.” Ethan crossed his arms. “You’re violating the restraining order. I’m giving you one chance to leave before I call the sheriff. After that, you’re getting arrested.”
“Restraining order expired,” Tom spat. “Can’t arrest me for standing on a public porch.”
“This isn’t a public porch. It’s private property, and you’re trespassing. And that restraining order or not, harassment is still illegal. Threatening to burn down a house with children inside? That’s terroristic threatening. That’ll get you five to ten in Virginia.”
Tom’s expression shifted. Some of the bravado bleeding away as legal reality penetrated the alcohol fog. But the rage was still there, coiled and dangerous.
“You think you’re so fucking smart,” he said, but he was backing toward the steps now.
“Think you got it all figured out. But you don’t know her.
Not really. You don’t know what she’s capable of.
” He pointed at Ethan with a shaking hand.
“It’s only a matter of time before she destroys you.
Just you wait. She’ll take everything you have and leave you with nothing.
That’s what she does. That’s what she IS. ”
He stumbled down the steps toward his sedan. A battered Chevy that was parked at an angle in the driveway. The engine roared to life, and Tom peeled away, gravel spraying, leaving Ethan standing alone on the porch in the gathering darkness.
For a moment, Ethan just stood there, breathing hard, his body still flooded with adrenaline and rage. The cold finally registered, seeping into his bones, and he realized he was shaking.
Not from fear. From fury.
The thought of that man getting anywhere near Lydia or the kids, of him putting his hands on them, of hurting them, made something primal and violent wake up in Ethan’s chest. Something left over from Kandahar, from years of training to protect, to defend, to eliminate threats.
He forced himself to take a breath. Then another. Counted to ten, waiting for the red haze to clear.
When he finally felt steady enough to move, Ethan went back inside. He needed to alert the sheriff’s department.
The living room was dark except for the flicker of the TV.
Some animated movie the kids weren’t watching.
They were huddled together on the couch, Eli’s arm around Rosie’s shoulders, both of them looking small and scared.
Lydia stood behind them, one hand on each of their heads, her face pale and drawn.
Their eyes all tracked to Ethan as he entered, and he saw the question there. The fear.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “He’s gone.”
“For now,” Lydia whispered.
“For now,” Ethan agreed. He forced himself to smile, to gentle his voice, to be the steady presence these kids needed. “How about that movie? What are we watching?”
“Tangled,” Rosie said in a small voice. “But I don’t really want to watch anymore.”
“That’s okay.” Ethan knelt in front of the couch, bringing himself to eye level with both kids.
“How about you two keep watching down here for a bit while your mom and I talk in the kitchen? We’ll be right there.
You’ll be able to see us the whole time.
And if you need anything, you just call out. Okay?”