by Amy Woods
The drive his father’s actions had lit in him—to be a better man, a better husband, a better father—was largely why he’d insisted on marrying Sarah when she told him she was carrying their baby. But in that moment, he needed to put the past aside. This wasn’t about Ryan or his father; it was about a woman they both loved dearly.
“She’s sick, Ryan. Mom’s had cancer for some time now.”
Ryan shut his lids against his father’s words as tears bit behind his eyes. He fought the threatening moisture, forcing himself to focus only on the facts before any further reaction came. It wouldn’t do any good for him to get upset in the middle of a diner in a town where a single abnormal move could cause people to talk. If his mom was ill, she might not want anyone to know outside of the family, and he didn’t want any speculation. Suddenly, he craved the anonymity a city like Seattle granted him.
He never should have come back to Peach Leaf. But if he hadn’t...would his mother have ever mentioned her condition? He wanted to resent her stubbornness, but on some level he knew it was the very same obstinacy that coursed through his own veins.
When Ryan looked up, his father was staring at him, but with a gentle patience rather than any kind of expectation. Grateful, Ryan allowed himself to take in a mouthful of air, dizzy and aware that he hadn’t been breathing properly. George’s eyes were steady and Ryan realized his dad had probably known for some time, long enough to shed plenty of his own tears.
“Why are you telling me this now? And why here?” Ryan asked. As soon as he’d spoken, he regretted the words. They made him sound so selfish, when in reality his heart was on the verge of erupting, as though a grenade was trapped inside; he knew he was only using them to deflect attention elsewhere while he silently exploded.
But George didn’t seem to notice, or, if he did, he kept his judgment to himself. “I would have told you sooner, son, but every time you called, you made it clear you only wanted to speak to your mother. I tried to respect that, even though I didn’t much like it. And I’m sorry to tell you here, but it’s the first I’ve seen you. I didn’t want to do this over the phone.”
He was right, of course, but Ryan couldn’t understand why his father would even need to relay the news in the first place. He raised his chin and folded his hands on the table, only to unfold them seconds later. “Why are you the one to break this news to me?” He looked down and picked up the tip he’d left...what now seemed like hours ago. “Why didn’t Mom tell me herself?”
George’s eyes filled with sympathy for his son and Ryan disliked it. Once more, he’d been in the middle of a secret without a clue.
“She knew on our last trip together, didn’t she?” he said softly, his voice that of a young, scared boy.
George nodded. “Yes, she knew.”
“Then why the hell didn’t she tell me?” Ryan’s blood boiled up beneath the surface of his skin and he folded the bill in his hands into a tiny ball. “I would have taken better care of her if I’d known. I would have made her relax more.” He tossed his head back and forth. “God, Dad, we hiked all over that damn city, doing all kinds of active stuff, and she didn’t say a word. Not one word.” Ryan threw the bill onto the table, angry with himself for not noticing his mom was sick, but his father just gave him a slow, gentle smile.
“That’s just it, son. She didn’t want you worrying or treating her like some fragile flower. She wanted to enjoy the trip with you as if she were well.”
Ryan’s heart broke through his ribs and landed in his gut. The threat of tears returned with a vengeance; they were even harder to hold back than when the news first hit. “But she isn’t well.”
George nodded at the waitress who passed by. She respectfully left the two men alone to talk despite the clock on the wall indicating it was only minutes from the lunchtime rush. “Yes, that’s true.” He leaned closer to Ryan and set his hands on his son’s. “But her life isn’t over yet, kid. There are more treatments and tests to be done, and even if the results aren’t good, she’s not going out without a fight. The best thing we can do is help her enjoy the hell out of her time here.” He leaned back, squeezing Ryan’s hands before letting them go.
Ryan couldn’t stop a smile as it slipped through the deep sorrow inside him, spreading stubbornly across his mouth. “That’s Mom,” he said, his voice unsteady.
George gave a low belly laugh. “Damn right,” he said. “That’s our Annabelle.”
Ryan glanced at his father, who was already lost in thought. The old man looked heartbroken, despite his brave words. Ryan still wanted to be mad at him for shattering their family’s world when he was just a kid. But in that moment, all he felt was sorrow, for the years George spent being unfaithful, for Ryan’s own good, if misguided, intention in marrying Sarah when they’d both known it wasn’t right for either of them, and for the little girl he’d never had a chance to be a dad for, but somehow missed all the same.
He needed to see his mom as soon as possible.
And he needed to see Katie.
Maybe it was nuts, and maybe Katie’s mind was worlds away from what he was thinking just then, but he could hardly wait to pick her up in a few days. What would happen over the weekend they’d spend together?
His past was full of sadness, full of regret, but did that mean his future had to be, too? If Annabelle Ford could face cancer like a bullfighter, then what was stopping Ryan from facing his future with the same tenacity?
Chapter Five
“Katie, Katie. Wake up!” June’s agitated voice, rather than the usual incessant buzzing of her alarm, pulled Katie out of her dreams that Saturday morning. She sat up in bed with a start, blinking and shielding her eyes from the light of a thousand suns emitting from the cell phone June held in front of her face.
“Ryan’s supposed to be here in about twenty minutes, and if you don’t hustle, you’re going to be late. I thought you’d already gotten up and were doing something productive in here, but when I passed your door for the hundredth time and didn’t hear any noise, I got worried.”
June pointed at the time on the cell phone and Katie squinted at the tiny numbers before June tossed it into her lap. “Turns out your ass is still in bed.”
Katie shook her head to loosen the cobwebs a little, giving her eyes time to adjust to the daylight pouring in through her bedroom window. She shoved her hair back from her forehead and pointed toward the door. “I must have forgotten to leave it cracked last night. If my alarm doesn’t work, Harold usually lets me know when it’s time for his breakfast.” She glared at the cat who now stood near the foot of her bed, grooming himself, obviously not upset by his failure to wake her. He must have gotten his breakfast from her roommate.
June giggled. “Not today, he didn’t. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the racket he made in my room. I’ve been up for hours.” She headed to the door. “Bathroom’s free. I’ll bring coffee when you get out of the shower.”
June winked as Katie groaned and threw back her bed sheets. “Think of it as motivation.”
The thought of coffee made Katie’s mouth water and, sniffing the air, she was pretty sure she smelled bacon, but her friend was right to suggest a hot cup of joe as a reward once she was at least a little more than half-awake. She checked her phone and, sure enough, she’d forgotten to set an earlier alarm.
She didn’t have to be out to the campsite until around ten, but she wanted to get there a little early to make sure everything was set up well in advance of the kids’ arrival. She knew enough from experience that things could go awry despite even the most meticulous planning.
Katie laughed to herself as she made the bed and grabbed her worn purple bathrobe from a hook behind her door before heading down the hall to the bathroom. There was that year her boss had forgotten to call the local ranch to drop off hay for the hayride. Instead of a hayride that one year, the kids and parent chaperones had helped Katie pile pillows and blankets into the back of her truck, and everything had worked out fine. Th
ere was the one in which Katie left the house in flip-flops, having forgotten to pack any real shoes for traipsing around the outdoors, and there was always a kid or two missing toothbrushes, but it always turned out okay. She loved that about her neighbors, her community; their resilience made it possible for Peach Leaf to survive just about anything, from minor crises to major ones.
Biting her lip, she turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature, hoping once again that the town’s positive attitude and supportive nature would get them through the museum’s closure. Ordinarily, there wouldn’t be a doubt in her mind, but the museum was one of the last pieces of their past that Peach Leaf had to hold on to. Much of its tourism revenue depended on visitors coming to experience Texas history and to take a little taste of small-town charm, something that seemed to be fleeing a little too fast in the wake of the strip malls and chain stores sweeping across the state.
It wouldn’t do any good to mope, though, Katie thought, rinsing off any last traces of soap before toweling dry. She needed to focus on keeping her head up that weekend for the sake of the kids and their parents. They would look to her to determine whether or not to worry about what the loss of the museum would mean for the townsfolk.
June knocked on Katie’s door just after she’d finished dressing and blow-drying her hair, and, as promised, she stood bearing a large mug of much-needed steaming coffee when Katie beckoned her in. Katie sat on the edge of her bed, closed her eyes and took a long sip—its rich flavor was so welcome she didn’t even mind that it was the decaf they’d kept in the house since Katie discovered she was expecting—then thanked June.
“Don’t grovel at my feet until this weekend’s over and you and Ryan Ford are back together, just like I always predicted.”
Katie nearly choked on the hot, delicious liquid before managing to swallow. “I’m not going to tell you again. There is no ‘me and Ryan Ford.’”
June just stood planted in the doorway, looking unconvinced. “Come on, Katie,” she said, crossing her arms. “Humor me a little.”
After another sip, Katie said, “I’m not sure what that means, nor do I want to know, but whatever you’ve got in mind, the answer is no.”
Her roommate looked a little too disappointed, and Katie felt an urge to comfort her. Almost like she had years ago when she’d explained to her saddened mom that Ryan Ford would never be the older woman’s son-in-law...but there was nothing to say, and talking about him would only make her more nervous than she already was, a fact she resented. Normally, she’d be so excited she’d have gotten up well before her alarm and rushed out to the campsite ahead of the sunrise, eager to set up for a weekend of fun, but this year, the butterflies in her stomach were multiplying by the hour.
If only her stupid old truck had waited a few days to have the vehicular equivalent of a heart attack. She didn’t care for the thought of depending on Ryan, but with June working and her parents out of town celebrating their anniversary, and little time to arrange another ride, she had no choice but to let him help her.
June crossed from the doorway to where Katie sat, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on Katie’s forearm. “Just do one thing for me,” she said, her gray eyes warm and uncharacteristically serious.
“Depends on what it is,” Katie answered, expecting a lighthearted comment despite her friend’s stormy gaze.
“Just...remember that Ryan is not necessarily the same guy who walked out on your friendship and skipped town when we were kids.” June’s forehead creased. “Just like you’re not the same girl you were then.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head, unable to hide the skepticism she felt.
“People can change, Katie. They do change.”
Staring down into her coffee, she considered her friend’s statement. “Right. You’re preaching to the choir here. Bradley changed his mind about me overnight.”
June gave her friend’s arm a tender squeeze. “Ryan’s not Bradley, though, and you don’t know what his life’s been like since he left.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Katie said. “People keep a lot inside sometimes, and he was always like an iceberg that way—all you could see was the top, and the rest was hidden from sight.”
June nodded before speaking further. “And even though he was a sweetheart at dinner the other night, it doesn’t take a genius to see there’s some sadness in there.”
She had a point. In the several hours she’d spent in his company that day, Ryan hadn’t once mentioned Sarah or the kid the two had been expecting when they moved away.
Katie swallowed, recalling the discomfort she’d seen in Ryan’s face each time his attention strayed to her growing stomach, feeling suddenly ashamed that she’d spoken about her child and hadn’t inquired after his. She supposed, on some level, it was self-preservation. The news of Ryan’s fatherhood on his last night of high school had been so hard to accept at the time—the man she’d only recently admitted to loving had been committed to a family with someone else, someone not Katie—that perhaps she didn’t want to feel that way again.
Was it possible he might be going through something similar now? Seeing her pregnant?
She dismissed the thought immediately; she couldn’t risk hoping for such a thing. She wasn’t a love-struck teenager anymore, and she had a responsibility to more than her emotions...more than the blinding physical attraction she experienced in Ryan’s presence.
She touched her belly.
If Katie ever became involved with another man, he would have to prove himself a worthy father, not just a decent man interested in the companionship of a woman. He would have to learn to love her child as much as he loved its mother...a wish she knew deep down was possibly far too much to ask. And Ryan’s neglect of their friendship spoke volumes; he certainly was not the man to fill those shoes.
Katie met June’s eyes and gulped down the last few drops of coffee, handing the mug to her roommate. “You’re probably right about that, but don’t get carried away. Nothing is going to happen between me and Ryan.”
June grimaced before grabbing the cup from Katie’s hand and holding it up between them. “Don’t think my romanticism and superior best-friend supportiveness means I’m now your maid, missy.”
Katie ignored June’s comments and scooted off the bed, giving her suitcase a once-over, then zipping it closed and wheeling it to the doorway. She hoped her friend would take the hint, but June piped up again.
“I’m usually right about these things. Just you wait and see.”
* * *
Walking up the steps to Katie’s front porch, Ryan’s nerves fired off like flare guns, and the resulting flames shot from the ends of his hair all the way down to his toes.
He’d chided himself since the second he woke up that morning in the too-firm hotel bed for thinking too much about his every move. For putting so much consideration into his choice of clothing, for spending way too long arranging his hair, for regretting having not gotten it cut at the last minute before coming back to Peach Leaf and for...being so ridiculous.
Dammit, he was acting like a girl on prom night.
He’d finally banned himself from the mirror, shoving on his favorite jeans and an old plaid shirt he wore when mowing the lawn of his Seattle home, kidding himself that he didn’t care what Katie thought of his appearance. He was a grown man, for God’s sake, had been married for two years to a woman he’d loved—if not perfectly, then as best he could until she’d given up on working through their problems and called it quits—and had casually dated a few since, so the absurdity of his behavior since the second he laid eyes on Katie Bloom again didn’t slip past him.
But when it came to whether or not he would entertain whatever it was that rushed between them, thick and intoxicating as the first breath of summer air—he was in charge. He didn’t have to let it get to him, and he damn well wouldn’t.
Katie might blame him for leaving town after high school without so much as a quick goodbye, and she mi
ght hold a grudge that he’d not contacted her since, but the fact was, she wasn’t blameless concerning the demise of their friendship.
She’d chosen to hide her feelings from him for far too long. Yeah, it was stupid the way he’d waited for her to see, too, what he already knew, instead of telling her the second he figured out he was in love with her, but he’d been involved with Sarah at the time and needed space to figure out how to tell his then-girlfriend that he couldn’t continue dating her...because he’d fallen for his childhood friend, the girl next door.
Everything happened too late for him and Katie; their timing was so wrong, and instead of being 100 percent honest with each other, they had both given it all up for what seemed best at the time.
It’s too late to go back now, he thought, stepping up to the blue cottage’s flowerpot-covered porch. If anything, all he could do now was do Katie this one last favor, as a way to apologize for his part in destroying what they’d had. And maybe, if he was lucky, they could salvage a little piece of their friendship. At least enough to make things less awkward when he came to town to visit his mom, which would be a hell of a lot more often now that he’d become aware of her illness, and—he swallowed the pain that rose to the surface each time he faced the possibility—the potentially limited amount of time she had left to spend with family.
An idea forced its way into his mind as Ryan pushed the doorbell button and waited for its ring to elicit a response: maybe he would move back to town temporarily. He could run his company and approve deals and blueprints remotely, and it would be a hell of a lot easier to help out with his mom’s care if he was close by, if only for a short time.
He’d taken her out the day before, and the one before that, after meeting with his father. Annabelle Ford was a true Southern belle, but she was also genuinely kindhearted, spending most of her time volunteering wherever there was need, and she was a well-known, respected member of the Peach Leaf community. So of course she would do her best to mask the cancer’s effects as long as she could, especially since, as she’d explained the day before, no one outside the family knew of its presence.