Small Town Christmas by Jill Shalvis

Author:Jill Shalvis [Shalvis, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Short Stories
ISBN: 9781455513611
Google: JHTDFEg4ftYC
Amazon: B005JT1UBA
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2011-11-01T07:58:11+00:00

Chapter Three

“You want to what?” Ethan stared at his parents as if they had lost their minds. It was a possibility. Winter on a farm could make people a little stir-crazy. Ever since returning from town, Ethan had felt like he’d swallowed a bucket of bees. Of course, that had more to do with Sam Henderson than two hundred acres of farmland.

His mother reached out and patted his hand, which rested on the linen tablecloth his great-great-grandmother had brought over from Germany. “I know this is a shock, Ethan, but it’s not like we’re fallin’ off the face of the earth. We’re just moving to South Padre Island.”

“Just?” Ethan pulled his hand out from under hers and got up from the table, pacing back and forth. “What about the farm? The animals? The folks of Bramble?” He turned and stared at his parents. “Me?”

The weathered skin around his father’s green eyes scrunched up. “You’re thirty years old, boy. You still scared of the dark?”

His mother jumped back in. “Of course he’s not scared of the dark.” She shot Ethan a skeptical look before addressing her husband. “I told you we shouldn’t just drop the news on him, Jeb—especially on Christmas Eve.”

“Hell.” His father got up from his chair. “I thought the boy would be excited to finally get rid of us. I figured that was why he’d never married or brought a girl home besides that cute little Sam Henderson.” He studied Ethan again. “You ain’t one of them…”

“No!” The word came out louder than Ethan intended, and he quickly tacked on a “sir.”

“Then what’s your problem?” his father asked. “You ain’t worried about being able to handle the farm, are you? ’Cause you’ve been doin’ most of the work ever since I fell off that danged ladder and screwed up my back.”

“I just think it’s crazy, is all,” Ethan said. “Why would you and Mama want to live on a beach when you’ve spent your entire life on a farm?”

“Maybe that’s why,” his mother said in the soft voice that had always soothed Ethan. She patted the table. “Come sit down, Ethan, and quit pacing like an expectant cat.”

Begrudgingly, he sat back down in the chair, but couldn’t help crossing his arms and staring belligerently at the toes of his work boots.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” his mother said, “your father and I aren’t exactly spring chickens. We were in our late thirties when God finally blessed us with you.” Since Ethan’s hands were tucked under his armpits, she reached out and patted his knee. “And we couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve grown into. But I agree with your father. There comes a time in every man’s life when he needs some space. And since you don’t seem to be in any hurry to fly the coop—we are.”

“Fly the coop?” Ethan’s jaw dropped as he stared at his mother. “I stayed for you—for you and Daddy because I didn’t think you two could make a go of the farm without me.

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