Ryan's Return (18 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Ryan's Return
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"Cynic. Disillusioned, bitter, maybe even a little lonely."

Her words struck right to the heart of him, and Ryan suddenly realized that he had been a cynic since he was nine years old. That's when he had stopped believing in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny, and happily ever after.

"And why aren't you a cynic?" he asked, pulling her face around so he could look into her eyes. "You come from a broken home, a bad marriage. Yet you're still up here wishing on stars."

"I said I was counting, not wishing. Okay, I was wishing. I can't seem to let go of that last little bit of idealism, Ryan. I know deep down in my heart that someday I will have the family I always wanted."

"You already have a lot -- a daughter, an aunt, a bunch of dogs, who by the way are curled up in the middle of my bed."

Kara laughed with delight. "I know, I saw them. I tried to get them out, but they like you."

"Yeah, right."

"But I don't have everything. I don't have a -- lover."

Her voice dropped down to a husky murmur. His heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe I could solve that problem for you."

"The only problem is, I don't want just one night. I want a lifetime."

"I can't give you a lifetime. We're too different."

"We're not different at all. We both grew up lonely. We both like music. We both care about people."

"How do you know I care about people?"

"You let Aunt Josephine read your tea leaves."

"I couldn't stop her."

"You listened to Angel's wild stories and never made fun of her."

Ryan smiled. "You mean, those stories aren't true? Damn." He pulled Kara into his arms and held her tight. She was right. He did care about people. He cared about her, and it was killing him.

"Ryan." Kara lifted her head from where it rested against his chest, where her warmth had taken away the chill around his heart. "The past doesn't matter. It's the future that counts."

"I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Kara."

"But you can't. I know. That's why I'm sitting on the roof wishing on stars." She impulsively kissed him on the cheek, then got up. "Good night, Ryan."

"Good night."

She paused at the window. "Are you coming?"

"In a minute. I think I see an airplane with my name on it."

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Kara awoke Saturday morning to the sound of someone pounding on the front door with such determination that she thought the wood would splinter and crash to the floor.

She threw on her silk robe and ran down the hall. A few guests poked their heads into the hall, but she assured them she would take care of the problem, whatever it was.

As she ran past Ryan's room, she heard a brief, colorful curse as the puppies began to bark. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of Ryan sleeping with a bunch of puppies. The man was definitely a soft touch where children and animals were concerned.

When Kara finally reached the front door, she heard a man yelling. She hoped to God it wasn't Jonas. Turning the knob, she threw open the door. The man on the other side almost fell into the entryway.

It wasn't Jonas. It was Ike Kelly, and judging by the smell of his breath he had been drinking, probably all night, since it was only six o'clock in the morning.

"Ike. What on earth is going on?" she demanded.

Dark circles framed his eyes. His forehead creased with worry, anger, and despair as his eyes darted back and forth from her to the staircase. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs, asleep. At least she was asleep."

Ike moved to get past her.

"Now hold on a second. You can't just barge into my house like this."

"I came to get my wife, and that's what I'm going to do. You got a problem with that?"

Kara backed up a step. Although she had never known Ike to get violent, he was an ex-marine, and he knew how to intimidate.

"Well, I do have a problem with that. I don't think Aunt Josephine wants you to get her."

"That's right, I don't." Josephine stood regally on the first landing of the staircase. Even dressed in a white terry cloth bathrobe with a pair of fluffy pink slippers on her feet and matching curlers in her hair, she still looked like a queen addressing a lowly subject.

"Now see here -- " Ike began.

Josephine interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "I'm divorcing you, Ike Kelly, and nothing you can say will change my mind."

Ike stared at her for a long, agonizing second. "I love you, Josie." His voice softened to a plea. Gone was the Rambo attitude, the arrogant swagger, the cocky talk. He was a man without his woman.

Kara saw vulnerability in his eyes, fear, regret, a million things she had felt herself over the years. "Maybe you should listen to him," she said.

Josephine's voice trembled slightly. "I want him to listen to me."

"I will," Ike promised.

"You'll let me read your tea leaves again?"

"Oh, Christ, woman."

Kara sighed.

"Is that a yes or no?" Josephine asked, no longer any sign of weakness in her voice.

"I won't discuss it here. Now get on down those stairs and come home where you belong."

"I'll come home when I'm good and ready."

"You'll come home now."

"I won't."

"What the hell is going on?" Ryan jogged down the stairs, followed by the puppies and a wide-eyed Angel.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Ike roared, striding toward the stairs. "My wife is coming home."

"No, she's not," Josephine said firmly, clutching at the railing with one hand. "You don't need a wife. You need a maid. I'm tired of picking up your clothes and making your dinner and washing your socks while you watch those half-naked women prancing around on the beach."

"What half-naked women?" Angel asked curiously.

"Baywatch," Kara replied, meeting her daughter's gaze. "Can you take the puppies outside, honey?"

"Sure, Mom." Angel whistled to the puppies, leading them out to the back porch.

"Now, Josie, come on. This has gone too far," Ike said.

"It hasn't gone far enough," Josephine declared. "I read your tea leaves, Ike Kelly. There's trouble brewing in this town, and you won't listen to me. If you don't believe in me, if you don't respect my vision, then we have nothing to talk about."

"Josie, for crying out loud, you can't tell the future in a bunch of leaves. And I don't like tea. I like coffee, strong and black."

"But I like tea, and I hate coffee."

"Looks like we've reached an impasse," Ryan stated. "One wants coffee, one wants tea. What can they do?"

"Make apple strudel?" Kara said, not really sure what it meant, but it seemed to work for the Grubners.

"I don't like apple strudel," Ike said.

"Neither do I," Josephine replied with a glare.

"Well, that's good, you have something in common," Kara said brightly.

Ryan started to laugh. "All this talk of food is making me hungry. Anyone for breakfast?"

"I'm sure Mr. Kelly would like a cup of coffee," Josephine said.

"And you probably want some of that herbal potion tea," Ike retorted.

Kara held up her hand. "We'll all drink orange juice okay?"

"I'm not thirsty. Until Mr. Kelly believes in me, I don't have anything to say." Josephine turned and walked up the stairs.

"She's crazy," Ike declared, looking at Kara for confirmation. "What am I going to do with her?"

"Maybe you should try believing in her."

"But it's nonsense. She got all spooked looking at my tea leaves. Said she saw a boat, like my old rowboat and terrible danger, like someone was going to die. She's driving herself crazy over nothing." Ike looked up at Ryan. "Don't you think so?"

"I think I'll stay out of this one."

"So much for our small, quiet town," Kara said as Ike stormed out of the house.

"It is more lively than I remember." Ryan paused letting his gaze drift down her body. "Nice outfit."

Kara self-consciously tightened the belt of her short robe. "I like silk."

"I like silk, too -- on you."

"Jeez, I'm barely awake, and you're already flirting."

He grinned. "I can't help it around you."

"Do you want coffee or tea?"

"I'll stick to coffee this morning."

Ryan followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as she ground coffee beans and poured water into the coffee maker. Within minutes the aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the cold kitchen.

Kara handed him a mug and watched him take a sip.

"God, you're good," he said.

"And not just at making coffee."

He mockingly chalked up an imaginary point for her. "Not bad. You're learning." Ryan took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of the coffee as he closed his eyes, an expression of sensual pleasure on his face. Kara watched him with complete fascination. She wanted to see that look on his face again. She wanted to send him to heaven with more than a cup of coffee.

She started as the door between the kitchen and the sun porch opened. Angel slipped through, shooing the puppies back inside with her foot, then closing the door behind her. "Is everything all right?" Angel asked.

"It's fine, honey."

Angel looked over at Ryan. "Did you tell her about last night?"

"What about last night?" Kara asked.

"Nothing." Ryan scowled at Angel. "Maybe you should go back to bed. I don't think you're awake yet."

Angel smiled. "You're okay."

"Yeah, I am totally cool."

"Totally." She giggled.

Kara rapped the spatula on the counter. "Excuse me, what am I missing?"

"Nothing," Angel said.

Kara gave her a suspicious look. "I think we need to talk about yesterday."

"Okay, but not right now. I'm still sleepy." Angel stretched and yawned in a very unconvincing way. "Oh, Ryan." She paused. "About the watch."

"Keep it or throw it away. I don't want it."

"What watch?" Kara asked. "Come on, you guys, this isn't fair."

Ryan sighed. "Angel found a watch along the river that my mother gave me a long time ago."

Angel pulled it out of the pocket of her robe. "This watch, Mom."

Kara took the watch and silently read the inscription. "Your mother gave this to you?" she asked Ryan.

"Actually Jonas gave it to me for my ninth birthday, which came about a week after my mother left. I guess she had hidden the watch away. She was always one to buy Christmas presents in July. Anyway, I didn't want the damn watch. I wanted her. So I went to Tucker's Bridge and threw it into the river. I thought it was gone dead and buried."

"But everything comes up when the river rises," Kara said softly. She looked down at the watch in her hand "How odd it should appear now. If Angel had found it a week ago, she wouldn't have even known you."

"I'm a lucky son of a gun, aren't I?"

"The lady showed it to me, Mom. She's the reason I found it," Angel said.

"What lady?" Kara asked.

"The river ghost. She comes out at night, usually before a storm, and she's looking for something. She asked me to help her find it." Angel's eyes filled with excitement. "And I did. It was right where she said."

"Oh, Angel. More tales?"

Her daughter's face fell. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"I don't believe in ghosts. They're not real."

"But I saw her, Mom. She found the watch. She pointed right to it. Then she started to cry. At least it looked like she was crying. It might have been the rain," Angel added, determined to get the story right.

"I'm sure it was the rain you saw and the wind you heard and the moonlight through the trees that made you think you saw something. That's the only logical explanation."

"Why does there have to be a logical explanation?" Ryan asked as he sat down at the table.

"Because there does."

Angel looked from one to the other. "I'm going to get dressed." Angel walked out of the kitchen, letting the door slam behind her.

Kara sighed. "Maybe I should go to her. I should probably speak to Aunt Josephine, too. No doubt she's upset about Ike."

"Let her be," Ryan advised. "Josephine has to know what she's missing before she knows what she wants."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "She does?"

"We all do. That's why I came back here."

"And now you know what you want?"

Ryan didn't answer.

"Do you want this?" Kara put the watch down in front of him.

"No." He refused to touch it.

"Are you sure? Your mother gave it to you. She had it inscribed. She wanted you to know that she loved you."

"If she loved me, she wouldn't have left." Ryan shook his head. "That's the first time I've ever admitted that out loud. What is it about you, Kara? One look from you and I spill my guts."

"I don't know. I've never had that effect on anyone."

"I can't imagine why."

Kara cleared her throat. "I thought you didn't blame your mother for leaving."

"I don't. Well, I do, sort of." Ryan gave her a weary smile. "I'm not sure who I blame anymore. That's the worst of it really, the mystery surrounding her disappearance. Why did she leave? Where did she go? Why didn't she ever come back?"

Sitting down in the chair across from him, Kara picked up the watch. "I think you should keep this, Ryan."

"It's a two-bit Mickey Mouse watch. It doesn't even work anymore."

"That's what it is, but not what it stands for."

Ryan held up his hand as Kara's argument began to build. "All right. I'll take it, if only to shut you up." He picked up the watch. "Are you happy now?"

"Do whatever you want," she said, somewhat hurt by his answer. "Why should I care?"

"Now you're mad."

"Of course I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

"You're mad."

"It's none of my business."

"I appreciate your interest and your concern."

Her anger eased at his tender tone. "You do?"

He nodded, taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm sorry I butted in. I just can't help feeling sorry for your mother," Kara said.

"Why?"

"Because it's obvious that she wanted you to know that she loved you for all time."

"Nice play on words."

"I didn't mean it that way." Kara thought for a moment, wanting him to understand. "Sometimes I look in on Angel when she's asleep, and I think of how sweet and innocent she is. I want to protect her from the future, and I want to assure her that she'll always be loved, and I guess deep down in my heart I want to believe that if anything happened to me, she would remember that love and it would mean something to her."

"My mother didn't die."

"Maybe she did. Maybe that's why she never contacted you. Are you sure Jonas doesn't know what happened to her?"

Ryan hesitated before answering. "No, I'm not sure. I'm not sure at all."

The phone rang. Kara instinctively looked at the clock. "Another early bird," she muttered as she reached for the phone. "The Gatehouse. Can I help you? Just a minute." She put her hand over the receiver. "It's for you. Someone named Wallace Graystone from Time magazine."

Ryan took the phone from her hand. "Wally. What's up?" He listened for a long time. Wally spoke in his usual rambling manner, taking a good three minutes to get to the point. While Wally talked about the key happenings in Europe, Ryan watched Kara begin breakfast.

She pulled various bowls and food items out of the cupboards with confidence. This was a woman who knew her way around a kitchen, who felt comfortable in the role of homemaker. He liked watching her move, especially in the short, silky robe that molded itself to her body. Even with no makeup and her hair tousled from sleep, she looked gorgeous, real. Not like the women he had spent most of his time with in the past ten years. Their makeup cases had taken up as much room as their furniture. And they wouldn't have been caught dead sticking their manicured fingernails into a pile of bread dough the way Kara was doing now.

She kneaded the bread with loving, determined hands. She put one hundred percent of herself into every project, no matter what the sacrifice. He couldn't imagine why any man would let her go.

Didn't Michael Delaney know that a real diamond was strong enough to cut glass, to withstand incredible pressure without breaking? Kara was a diamond. And Kara deserved a diamond in return, a long-term commitment, a man who would share her breakfast every morning. Not a man like him.

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