An Aspen Creek Christmas. Roxanne Rustand

in their new home, it was unlikely that the court would agree to any further disruption of their lives.

      But it was the attorney’s additional words that kept playing through Ethan’s thoughts.

      The situation would be evaluated—especially regarding how well the children were bonding—and with whom. Which led him to believe that he still had a chance.

      He was a stranger to them, so that was now a moot point. But the attorney had suggested he spend as much time as possible with the children—without upsetting them or challenging Hannah in any way—prior to the first thirty-day custody evaluation.

      If he wanted any chance at all, the children needed to be comfortable with him, and want to join him in Texas.

      Hannah looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer.

      “I’m staying in town, at least until Christmas.”

      Her jaw dropped. “In Aspen Creek? Don’t you have a home in Dallas...or somewhere?”

      “Just a condo—but it’s always been more of a storage unit than a place to live.” He shrugged. “Right now I’m on medical leave, so there’s no place I need to be. A month or so here would be as good as any place else.”

      “To do what? Have...a...a vacation?”

      “Of sorts.”

      Her face pale, she fidgeted with the dishcloth, wiping at the already spotless kitchen counter. “You have a place to stay?”

      “Reservations at a B and B on this side of town that also has some year-round cabins. I haven’t checked in yet, but the off-season rate was better than any of the other places I found online.”

      “Y-you arranged all of this before even flying north?” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “What else have you planned?”

      “I want to spend time with my niece and nephew.”

      “Now—when they’ve barely arrived here? Is that fair to them?”

      “It’s time I got to know them—something I failed to do before. As their uncle, I understand I have that right, but I won’t interfere.”

      “But they’ll be in school starting this Monday, up through December twenty-third.” Her voice took on a desperate note. “They’ll be in school all day. They’ll have homework and will be spending time with kids they’re going to meet at church and school...”

      “Understood, but surely I can see them now and then. Isn’t it good for them to know more about what little family they have left? I promise I won’t be in the way.”

      “Not much,” she muttered under her breath. “Why not come later, when they’ve had a chance to get settled? Maybe Easter.”

      “Rob and I had a childhood filled with acrimony and irresponsible adults who didn’t much care about us. That isn’t going to happen to Molly and Cole.”

      “There will be no such acrimony and lack of responsibility here, I assure you. I love these kids.”

      Love? Maybe. But he knew all too well how flighty and irresponsible she could be, and he wasn’t going to take any chances. “I need to make sure my brother’s children have a much better life than he and I did. I owe him this much.”

      She sagged against the counter and he could see the realization dawning in her eyes. “Which means you are serious about wanting custody. This trip is all about you trying to win them over before permanent custody is finalized.”

      “I want what’s best for them, Hannah. A loving, stable home, in a familiar place. Except for their dad’s misguided move to Oklahoma last year for another job that didn’t pan out, they have always lived in Texas.”

      “A nice sentiment. But will you really follow through—or will you lose interest and foist them off on some nanny when you go overseas again? You did say that your return to active duty isn’t yet on the horizon, so you obviously hope to leave again.” She blew out a slow breath. “I don’t mean to keep bringing up the past, but I seem to recall that your good intentions don’t always amount to much. You once made some very serious prom ises to me.”

      “A whirlwind romance when we were too young to know better.”

      “You were already in the service, which implies responsibility and honor to me. You made promises and then you not only reneged on them but you disappeared without a word. Without an apology. Without explanation. Not even a goodbye. I was packed, ready and excited, Ethan. And you left me standing on the courthouse steps. Alone.”

      “There’s nothing I can do to change that now. I only wish it was possible to make up for what I did.”

      She gave a short laugh. “Not necessary. Eventually I realized two things—that I was lucky to have escaped marriage to a man I couldn’t trust. And, I escaped repeating history.”

      “History?”

      “My dad was military, as you might remember,” she said bitterly. “He ran our home like a barracks, and woe to anyone who challenged his authority or failed to measure up. But he’d always promised to come home—no matter where he was sent or what he did.” She turned away.

      “But he couldn’t keep that promise?” Ethan asked gently.

      “A new recruit went crazy on the base one nice, sunny day. Shot Dad six times in the chest while shouting nonsense about war and the evil army officer who was sending him home. I was just twelve, visiting Dad’s office on Career Day. I saw him die. I thought I would be next. But then his killer turned the gun on himself. The whole floor was awash in blood and I was too scared and shocked to even move.”

      “I’m so sorry, Hannah.”

      “I swore then that I wanted nothing more to do with military life when I grew up. Living with Dad had been tough, but seeing him die because he wore a uniform was a thousand times worse. Military families are amazing, strong people, and we all owe them so much for what they sacrifice every day. But I’m just not that strong—and I could never handle that life again.”

      He’d seen the horrors of war for over a decade. Dealt with his nightmares as best he could. But he could not imagine what that terrible day had done to an innocent child.

      “So you see,” she added softly, “you jilted me. You made me a laughingstock in town. But you also saved me from a life of living with my worst fears. I won’t ever trust you again on any count, but I guess I also owe you my thanks.”