Page 17 of Season of Mercy
Mercy’s eyes narrowed. “But you keep seeing her, don’t you?”
Ethan shook his head. “Of course not.”
Stevie ran to them at that moment, so she couldn’t say anything else. He slipped his right hand into hers, and her heart overflowed again with love for her little boy. She wanted so badly for him to have a happy childhood, to have a good father. Stevie slipped his left hand into Ethan’s large palm, and they headed to the mansion.
Doubt crawled inside her. Could she believe Ethan? She’d confronted Cole about his gambling many times, and every time Cole had denied it. So was it any surprise that Ethan denied seeing Leah?
And yet, when she walked close to Ethan, she couldn’t help being drawn to him. She was so desperate to believe him. While Cole had lied to her many times, Ethan had never lied to her before.
A deep longing to be loved, to have a family and a home stirred inside her, the feeling so strong it made her anger disappear.
She was losing her heart to her husband, which wouldn’t be so bad. But her marriage might have an expiration date, and her husband was a known womanizer.
“I’m so happy I can come home to you and Stevie,” Ethan whispered.
Something shifted inside her.
Stevie tugged at her hand when they reached the mansion. “Mommy, Mr. Ethan is my new daddy, right?”
Ethan glanced at her, his gaze half-excited, half-inquiring. Then he leaned to Stevie. “Nothing would make me happier, buddy.”
A lump formed in Mercy’s throat. She’d better figure out her marriage soon because her son already believed Ethan with all his little, trusting heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
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THREE DAYS LATER, MERCYWAS in the middle of doing laundry, while Stevie was drawing, when the doorbell rang. She nearly bit into her lip. It had better not be Leah again. Of all household chores, Mercy liked laundry the least, so her mood wasn’t the best to start with.
But then, Leah wouldn’t come to the guesthouse. Mercy marched to the door, opened it, and stared at a guy with a huge bouquet of hyacinths in his hands.
Huh.
Must be the wrong address.
“Good morning. Mercy Echeverría?” the man asked.
