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.”
“Now, don’t lie, boy,” his father said. “You get flustered just walkin’ into Josephine’s Diner.”
Ethan jumped back up from the chair and sputtered out the words. “F-flustered or not, if I’d known how you felt, I would’ve left a long time ago to pursue my own dreams.”
“Now, don’t be gettin’ all upset, Ethan.” His mother stood up and sent his father a stern look. “What your father means is that anyone can see that you were born to be a farmer. It’s obvious in the way you love animals and get so darned excited during harvest. But if you want to sell the farm, your father and I will support that.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time for all of us to leave the hard work behind and have us a little fun.”
Fun? First Sam and now his parents. Ethan was really starting to hate that word. Fun was something kids had, not grown adults who had responsibilities. He ignored the fact that he wasn’t exactly acting like an adult either.
“We’re not selling the farm,” he said. “I’ll figure out a way to buy you out so you can race off to South Padre and have some fun on the beach.”
His parents exchanged bright smiles.
“That won’t be necessary,” his daddy said. “Back when you was born, we put a little money aside, and since you never used it for college…”
The tires of the truck hit another pothole, but Ethan still didn’t slow down. He had never been the violent type, but he couldn’t help thumping the steering wheel with his fist as he turned onto the highway that led into Bramble.
A college fund? His parents had put money in a college fund and never mentioned a word? Okay, so maybe at eighteen he hadn’t exactly acted like he wanted to go to college. And maybe some of that had to do with being a little scared. But what good were parents if they couldn’t force a shy, backward kid out the door?
Of course, it had worked out real well for them. They had gotten years of free labor and now had a nice, fat nest egg to buy a motor home so they could “have fun” in some South Padre retirement village. Well, maybe it was time for Ethan to have a little fun too. He pressed harder on the accelerator and watched the skinny gauge of the speedometer inch up the miles per hour. Except when it got to seventy-five, the old truck started to shake so badly that he had to ease back down to sixty.
Ethan still made it to Bramble in record time. He’d planned on heading over to Lowell’s barn to check on the animals people had brought in for the nativity scene, but instead he pulled into Bootlegger’s Bar. He’d been to the bar before-every person over eighteen years of age had been in Bootlegger’s at one time or another. Ethan just wasn’t what you would call a regular, which explained the surprised faces when he ambled in the door.
Of course, Ethan was a little surprised himself when he looked at the bar and saw who was sitting there. The beginning line of a joke popped into his head:
“Well, hey, Ethan!” Kenny Gene waved him over so exuberantly that his wing clipped Mayor Harley Sutter’s wiseman crown and knocked it to the floor.
Harley sent him an annoyed look before leaning down to pick it up. “So what brings you to Boot’s, Ethan?” He readjusted the plastic crown on his balding head. “I thought you were supposed to be gettin’ the animals over to the church.”
“I am. But I thought I’d have me a beer first.”
Ethan laughed as his face was covered in wet pig kisses. “I’ve missed you too, Sherman. But it looks like you’ve been well taken care of.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Colt said. He took another drink from his long-necked bottle, the pink-flowered sheet sliding up his tattooed arm. “Hope and my sister, Shirlene, spoil that pig rotten.”
Ethan was glad to hear it. Ever since he’d given the pig to Hope as a gift, he’d had second thoughts. Sherman was special-the runt of the litter that Ethan hadn’t expected to live. But the tiny piglet had surprised him. And what Sherman lacked in physical size and strength, he’d made up for in brains. And not just brains, but a sixth sense about people. Even now, he studied Ethan with his intense beady eyes, almost as if he could feel Ethan’s emotional turmoil.
“I’m okay, boy,” Ethan whispered close to his ear. Still, Sherman continued to stare at him until Manny, the bartender, brought over the beer and a bowl of mixed nuts. And food could distract Sherman from just about anything.
While the pig devoured the nuts, Ethan turned back to Colt. “So I guess Darla is responsible for your Joseph’s outfit?”
“I wish,” Colt grumbled. “If Darla had made it, I could’ve gotten out of it. But how do you tell your wife of two weeks-your pregnant wife, no less-that you aren’t going to wear the costume that she went to all the trouble to make for you?”
“Well, I have to admit that the purple yarn belt is a little flashy,” Ethan teased. “But other than that, it’s not so bad.”
Colt grumbled something under his breath about annoying farmers before Mayor Sutter spoke up.
“Well, I think you should be honored, son. It’s not every day that a man gets to be Joseph to our little Hope’s Mary. It just doesn’t get much better than that.” The look on Colt’s face said that he could think of a lot of things that were better.
“Unless you’re Slate and get to be Faith’s Joseph.” Kenny Gene shook his head, causing the halo that was attached to his cowboy hat to wobble. “Man, Pastor Robbins ain’t gonna know what hit him when he sees our nativity scene.”
Ethan figured that was an understatement. The pastor had been in Bramble for only a year and was still trying to adjust to west Texas life. Tonight might just send him straight back to California-or over the edge.
Colt downed the rest of his beer and slipped off the stool. Standing, the floor-length floral robes looked even more amusing.
“Come on, Sherman.” Colt jerked the sheet from under the toe of his biker boots and picked up the staff that leaned against the bar. “Let’s get this over with.”
But the pig refused to budge from Ethan’s lap. Even when Colt reached for him, he grunted out a refusal and continued to lick the nut bowl.
“Smart pig.” Colt patted Sherman’s head. “I wish I could get out of it so easily.”
Ethan laughed. “I’ll watch out for him, Colt. You just watch out for that lightnin’ bolt when God notices who’s playin’ Joseph.”
“Real funny, Ethan,” Colt said before he headed for the door.
“We better get goin’ too, Kenny,” Mayor Sutter said. “Cindy Lynn will have our hides if we’re not there for the big dress rehearsal.” He glanced at Ethan. “You comin’, son?”
Ethan held up his beer. “After I finish this.”
Once they were gone, Ethan sipped his beer and tried to have fun. He failed miserably. Manny was busy closing up the bar for the night, which left Ethan no choice but to watch the Christmas movie on the television over the bar. It was the one where Jimmy Stewart gets to see how the world would change if he’d never been born. And it depressed the hell out of Ethan. Since he didn’t have a brother to save from a frozen pond, wasn’t married, and didn’t have children, he figured the world would do nicely without him.
“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.”
Instead of coming from the television, the words came from just over his shoulder. And Ethan turned to find Sam’s sister, Marcy, standing there. She wasn’t wearing a sheet or wings, just a red dress that revealed more of her large breasts than it covered. She reached up and flicked one of the jingle bells that hung from her earlobes, and the tinkling noise had her laughing.
