‘‘Women,’’ Seth said in a level and considering voice, ‘‘make a man want to shoot himself in the head and be done with it.’’ It was something he’d heard Phillip say to Cam, and he thought it might be appropriate. He was rewarded when Ethan let out a short laugh, even if it wasn’t a happy one.

‘‘Yeah, I guess they can.’’ Ethan draped an arm around Seth’s shoulders, pulled the boy close to his side. And took a little comfort.

EIGHTEEN

ANNA WEIGHED HER PRI orities —and took the day off. She couldn’t be sure what time Grace would be by to tend the house, and she couldn’t risk missing her.

She didn’t give a good damn what Ethan said—or didn’t say. There was a crisis.

If she’d believed they’d simply had a spat or misunderstanding, she would have been sympathetic or amused, whichever was most called for. It wasn’t amisunderstanding that had put misery into Ethan’s eyes. Oh, he had a way of hiding it, she mused as she slowly and ruthlessly tugged out weeds that threatened her begonias in thefrontyard bed. And he hid his more personal feelings very well. It just so happened she was a professional at filtering through to emotion.

Too bad for him that he’d inherited a social worker for a sister-in-law.

She’d poked at Seth a bit. There was no doubt in her mind the boy knew something. But she’d run straight into unwavering male loyalty. All she got out of him was a Quinn shrug and a zipped lip.

She could have wheedled it out nonetheless. But she hadn’t had the heart to put a chip in that lovely bond. Seth could keep his loyalty to Ethan.

Anna would work on Grace.

She was positive they hadn’t seen each other for days. It was pathetically easy to keep tabs on Ethan. He was out on the water every morning, in the boatyard everyafternoon and through the evening. He poked at his dinner, then retreated to his room. Where she’d seen the light slanting under his door well into the night on several occasions.

Brooding, she thought with an impatient shake of her head. And if he wasn’t brooding, he was looking for a fight.

She had broken up what would certainly have been bloodshed over the weekend when she walked in on the three brothers going nose to nose in the boatyard, Seth looking on with avid interest.

Whatever had caused it remained a mystery as she’d bounced straight off that same united male wall. Shrugs and snarls were all she got for her trouble.

Well, it was going to stop, she decided, and attacked some chickweed with enthusiasm. Women knew how to share and discuss. And if she had to bang Grace Monroe over the head with her garden spade, Grace was damn well going to share and discuss.