"I'd actually like to see you try that," Marty said, her sense of humor kicking in. "Two stubborn wills colliding could be highly entertaining."

Ethan thought of this dance he and Samantha were performing. Stubborn wills were playing a role in that, too, he conceded before snapping his attention back to the moment.

"So, it's okay if I pick her up? If she refuses, I won't cause a scene. I'll let you know she's heading home."

"Thanks, Ethan. You really are a saint for putting up with Cass."

"I'm not just 'putting up with her.' She's a good kid. She just needs to remember that she still has a lot to offer the world."

It was a lesson that had been a long time coming for him. In fact, it was one with which he still struggled from time to time, especially when it came to opening his heart. Just look at how determined he was to keep Samantha at arm's length. It must be a hundred times harder for an insecure teen who'd just been figuring out her own identity when the accident happened.

With Debra, Pam and Greg keeping an eye on the other kids in Ethan's program until he could get back, Ethan stood outside the high school and watched for Cass to emerge. It wasn't hard to spot her.

While the other kids spilled out in chattering clusters, she exited alone, an angry expression on her face. Ethan suspected only he saw the desperate longing in her eyes as she surreptitiously glanced at her classmates.

When she spotted him, though, her frown deepened, but she didn't turn away or try to avoid him.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, confronting him belligerently.

"Waiting for you," he said, falling into step beside her.

"I'm not going hiking, so you might as well take off."

"You know that hiking, at least the way we do it, is nothing more than going for a walk, right?"

"Which makes it a dumb way to spend the afternoon," she retorted.

"Not if you're one of the kids who has trouble walking at all," he reminded her.

"But I'm not," she countered. "My legs are perfectly fine. It's my arm that's gone, remember? Or do you not see what's right in front of you?" She waved the arm with her prosthesis to emphasize her point.

"Then today maybe you could help one of the kids who's not as lucky. It might make you feel good to do something for someone else. You could push Trevor in his wheelchair, for instance."

"Hello!" she said sarcastically. "One arm, remember?"

"And a perfectly good prosthesis on the other," he said without any hint of sympathy. "Or haven't you mastered it yet?"

She scowled at the suggestion that a lack of skill was behind her refusal to join the hike. "You know I have."

He gave her a sly glance. "Then prove it."

Cass heaved a sigh, clearly aware that she was going to lose in the end. Or maybe even wanting to participate, as long as she could do it grudgingly, as a favor to him. "Fine. I'll come on the stupid hike. And I'll push Trevor's wheelchair so fast he'll squeal like a little girl."

Ethan bit back a grin. "Thank you. I'm sure he'll appreciate your daredevil tendencies." He gestured across the street. "My car's right over there."

"I should probably call my mom and tell her I changed my mind," she told him.

"Good idea, though I told her I was going to try to convince you to come along this afternoon."

After Cass made the call, Ethan waited until they were halfway to the clinic before asking casually, "So, anything new in your life these days?"

"I go to school. I go home. It's not exactly material for a TV show."

"No after-school activities that interest you?" he prodded, knowing that at one time she'd been active in the drama club. She'd been cast in every play at the middle school and starred in one her first year at the high school. All, though, he realized now, had been before the accident.

"None," she said flatly.

Ethan glanced over and caught the tear that had leaked out, aware then that he'd hit on something. "I thought you were going to try out for the school play."

She whirled on him. "Do not mention that stupid play to me, okay? I didn't get the lead. I didn't even get a walk-on. I heard Mrs. Gentry tell another teacher it was a real shame to waste my talent, but she thought my prosthesis would be a distraction. She sounded all sad and sympathetic, but it was fake. I think she was glad to be able to give that twit Sue Ellen the lead. Like Sue Ellen will be able to remember her lines," she scoffed. "She's so busy batting her eyes at every guy in school, she can barely remember her own name."

Ethan felt a swell of fury on Cass's behalf. It was one thing for kids to be inadvertently cruel to each other, but teachers should have more sensitivity. "Sounds to me as if Mrs. Gentry needs to be replaced."

"Like that's ever going to happen," Cass said. "She's, like, some kind of institution at the school. Her recommendations carry a lot of weight in the drama departments at some colleges, too. I guess I can't count on that anymore."

Ethan frowned at the defeat in her voice. "You don't want to act? Come on, Cass. I thought that was your passion. And I saw you a couple of years ago. You were great!"

"What's the point?" she asked with a careless shrug she couldn't quite pull off. "Nobody's going to hire me."

He regarded her with surprise. "Boy, that doesn't sound like you. I thought you were a fighter."

"I am," she said angrily, "but I know when to quit. Could we drop this, please? I'm going on your stupid hike. One victory for the day ought to be enough, even for a guy who hates losing the way you do."

With that, she climbed out of his car and went to join the other kids who were waiting to be taken to a nearby park with trails that were manageable for everyone, at least with a little assistance. She leaned down and whispered something to Trevor that had the ten-year-old grinning. For all Ethan knew, they were planning a quick getaway.

Ethan sighed as he watched her. One of the things he was still struggling to accept was that physical triumphs were sometimes a whole lot easier in the long run than emotional ones, especially with people like Mrs. Gentry feeding into doubts and insecurities. The woman might be an institution, but he thought it was time for a bit of a shake-up at the school.

Even though Emily and Boone kept their voices low, it was evident to Samantha that they were having an argument. Since they kept glancing her way, she assumed she was at the center of it. That drew her across the yard to where Boone was grilling steaks for dinner for the family.

"Hush," Emily whispered urgently as Samantha approached.

Unfortunately for her the warning came too late. Samantha heard Boone trying, apparently without success, to convince Emily that Ethan truly hadn't been available to join them.

Samantha gave her sister a resigned look. "It didn't take long for you to forget all about our conversation this morning, did it?" she asked mildly.

Boone gave her a sympathetic look. "My bride-to-be is on a mission."

"A pointless one," Samantha said. "I thought I'd made that clear."

"I'm not so sure it's pointless," Boone said, surprising them both.

Emily's eyes lit up. "Really? You think Ethan's interested?"

"I think he genuinely doesn't realize that he is," Boone said. "It's been a long time since he allowed himself to take a chance on a woman. It's not a habit that's easily broken, especially for a man as strong-willed as he is. He's focused all of his energy on getting himself as fit as possible, getting the clinic up and running and on those kids of his."

Samantha blinked at that. "Ethan has kids? Was he married at some point?" She frowned at her sister. "Don't you think you should have mentioned that?"

"They aren't his kids," Emily said quickly. "They're kids with special needs. Some can't walk. Some have lost a limb. He's made it his mission to prove to them they can live a normal life. What's he call it, Boone? Project Pride?"

Boone nodded.

"I think what he's doing is wonderful," Emily added in case Samantha needed to have that pointed out.

Which she didn't, Samantha thought ruefully. In fact, it made Ethan that much more appealing. The plus column in the man's favor was literally crowded with checkmarks. The only minus, however, was huge. He wasn't interested. Or even if he was, as Boone thought, he was going to fight it. Wasn't that the same thing in the long run?

Emily's expression turned thoughtful. "You know, Samantha, I'll bet some of the girls in his group could use a woman's influence," she suggested slyly. "Remember when we used to play beauty shop? You were the one who taught Gabi and me how to put on makeup and how to fix our hair. That could go a long way to helping with their self-image, don't you think so, Boone?"

Boone held up his hands. "Out of my ballpark," he said. "You need to run that one by Ethan."

"I think I will," Emily said, nabbing Boone's cell phone from his pocket and scrolling down until she found Ethan's number.

"Not now," Samantha instructed firmly, managing to wrestle the phone away from her, just as she heard Ethan answer. She sighed, then spoke to him.

"Sorry, Ethan. Emily misdialed."

"Samantha?" he asked. "What are you doing with Boone's phone, or do I even need to ask?"

She stepped away from her sister. "You do not need to ask. The plotting and scheming are still going on. You were wise to skip this little get-together."

"I didn't do it to avoid you," he said, surprising her by addressing her unspoken fear directly.

"Is that so?" she said skeptically.

"Honest," he said. "Though after I ran out on you this morning, I can see how you might think that."

She settled into an Adirondack chair away from the rest of the family. "Why did you leave?" she asked.

"I can't explain it."

"Can't or don't want to?" she found herself teasing, thinking of Boone's theory. "Did you have a panic attack, Ethan?"

To her surprise, Ethan laughed. "I don't think I'll answer that," he said.

"Because?" she said, not sure why she thought it was so important to push him. If Boone was right, maybe she could encourage him to take another look at the possibilities for the two of them.

"You're not going to let this drop, are you?" he asked, his frustration evident.

"I'm thinking that would be a bad idea. So?"

"I found myself a little too eager to haul you into the closest bedroom," he said with unexpected candor.

Samantha smiled at the revelation, glad he couldn't see her face.

"Are you laughing?" he asked. "Because I wouldn't blame you if you were. Here I am, a decorated war vet, and I'm admitting that you scare me to death."

"I like you all the more for being honest," she said quietly. "That takes courage, especially when there are a lot of people who might seize on that little tidbit and run with it."

"Which means it might be best if you kept it to yourself."

"I can do that," she promised, thinking it was something she could dream about tonight. "But if I'm not the reason you stayed away from dinner, what is?"

"I have a commitment on Thursday afternoons. There's a group of kids I work with."

"I just heard about that," she acknowledged. "It's a really nice thing you're doing for them."

"There are days I wonder if I'm making any inroads at all," he said. "Today was one of those. I have this one girl, she's as stubborn as anyone I've ever met, and she's determined to fight me every step of the way."

"Which makes you want to try all the harder," Samantha guessed.

"Something like that. Today she told me about something a teacher had said, something that really crushed her. I've been trying to get in touch with the teacher this evening, but so far I haven't had any luck."

"Then put it off till morning and come on over. The steaks are about to come off the grill. There's plenty of food. I'd like to hear more about these kids of yours."

"Why?" he asked.

She frowned at the skepticism she heard in his voice. "Why wouldn't I? They obviously matter to you, and what you're trying to do for them is important."

"You don't even know them."

"That doesn't mean I can't care about what you're doing." She thought of the initial impression he'd obviously had of her. "Or do you think I'm too shallow to give a thought to anybody else?"

"I never said that," Ethan said, sounding annoyed.

"It's not the first time, though, that you've suggested you thought I'd be vain and self-involved. I thought we'd put that notion behind us, but I guess we haven't." She couldn't seem to help the hurt that had crept into her voice.

"Samantha-"

She cut him off. "Come over. Don't come over. It's up to you."

She disconnected the call, then tossed the phone to a startled Boone, who managed to snag it before it landed on the grill.

"What did he say?" Emily asked, regarding her worriedly. "You didn't fight, did you?"

She thought of Ethan's admission that he was attracted to her. While that had bolstered her spirits, his underlying lack of faith in the kind of woman she was pretty much undercut all those warm and fuzzy feelings.

"There was no fight. We just clarified a few things," she told her sister.

"Did you convince him to join us?" Emily persisted.

"I doubt I could convince Ethan to stay on the curb if a Hummer was barreling toward him," Samantha said.

Emily blinked at that, glanced at Boone, who merely shrugged, then said. "What on earth did the man say to you?"

"Not important," Samantha insisted.