“You can leave Tyler with me. He’ll be just fine,” Lauren said. She hadn’t spent several hours alone with a preschooler since she babysat as a teenager, but she was sure she’d do fine.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not putting me out. I’m happy to help.”
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll take you to my house and head straight to the office. Mrs. Leonard will be there in about fifteen minutes. She says Brutus is badly hurt.”
“My house is closer,” Lauren pointed out.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. You do what you need to do and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” Lauren assured Ryan as he pulled up in front of Holland House.
Ryan unstrapped Tyler and carried him inside. Tyler immediately made a beeline for Billy, who wagged his tail happily, boy and dog forging an instant bond.
“I appreciate this more than you know,” Ryan said. His gaze was soft and his lips warm as they brushed hers in a tender kiss. Not for the first time, Lauren felt that much remained unsaid, but this was not the time or place to delve into what lay between them. So instead, Lauren cupped his cheek and smiled into his eyes, letting him know that she’d be there when he came back.
Ryan’s smile was full of regret, and then he was gone, tires kicking up gravel as he made a U-turn and headed down the hill.
“Daddy!” Tyler cried once he realized Ryan had left.
“Daddy will be back soon,” Lauren said, suddenly realizing that she had no idea how to keep Tyler entertained. She had no TV or Wi-Fi, so watching cartoons or a movie wasn’t an option. She had no children’s books or toys, and Tyler was too active a child to patiently wait for his father. “Would you like to take Billy for a walk?” Lauren asked, hoping Tyler wouldn’t refuse.
“Can I hold the leash?” Tyler asked.
“Only if you promise to hold on tight and not let go. Billy fell down those steps outside a few weeks ago. He got badly hurt, but your daddy helped him to feel better.”
“I won’t let go. I promise,” Tyler said, his blue gaze solemn.
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
After a forty-minute trek through nearby woods, boy and puppy were both exhausted. Billy curled up in his crate and Tyler climbed onto the couch and looked around.
“I want to watch TV,” he said, his voice plaintive.
“I don’t have a TV.”
“Why not?”
“I prefer to read. Would you like me to tell you a story?” Lauren asked, frantically trying to recall a story that might be appropriate for a three-year-old.
“I’m hungry,” Tyler whined.
Lauren opened her mouth to reply and promptly shut it again. When she was a kid, peanut butter and jelly had been a staple, but she couldn’t be sure that Tyler didn’t have a peanut allergy. She’d forgotten to ask Ryan what she should feed him for dinner should he not return in time. “What would you like?” she asked carefully, hoping he wouldn’t make some unreasonable demand. Her cooking skills stretched only so far, and she didn’t have anything child-appropriate in the fridge. Perhaps she could order a pizza.
“Grilled cheese,” Tyler replied.
Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. She made a mean grilled cheese sandwich. “Coming right up.”
“Do you have any chips to go with it?” Tyler asked.
“No. How about some carrot sticks?”
Tyler made a face that made her laugh. “I like cherry tomatoes,” he said.
“I have cherry tomatoes, so we’re in business.”
Lauren was about to leave Tyler in the living room with Billy and go to the kitchen but thought better of it. He was too young to be left to his own devices, especially when there was no television to keep him occupied. “Come and help me,” she said.
Tyler reluctantly got off the couch and trailed after her. “I don’t know how to cook,” he whined.
“Do you know how to count?” Lauren asked.
“I can count to twenty,” Tyler boasted.
“Excellent. Then you can count the tomatoes.”
“Okay.”
After taking out the ingredients, Lauren started on the sandwiches while Tyler carefully counted the tomatoes she’d washed and put on a plate.
“How many have we got?”
“Fourteen,” Tyler replied proudly.
“Good. Now, divide them in half.”
Tyler looked worried for a moment, but then began to divvy up the tomatoes, muttering, “One for you, and one for me,” until the tomatoes were equally divided.
“Great job!” Lauren exclaimed. She placed a plate in front of Tyler and poured him a glass of milk. “What do you think?” she asked as the little boy bit into the sandwich.
“Good,” Tyler replied through a mouthful of bread and cheese. He wolfed down the sandwich, then reached for what was left of hers. Lauren handed it to him, and he ate that too, popping cherry tomatoes into his mouth after every bite.
“How about I show you my room after we wash your hands?” Lauren suggested when he was finished.
“All right.”
Lauren helped Tyler up the steep steps, then led him into her bedroom. He looked at the canopy bed with interest.
“That’s a weird bed,” he said. “It’s like a ship, and that thing is the sail.”
“Would you like to sail my ship?” Lauren asked. She lifted Tyler up and set him down on the bed.
He lay down and curled up on his side, his eyelids fluttering with fatigue. “Lie down next to me,” he whispered. She did, and he pressed himself close to her and was instantly asleep.
Lauren pulled a throw over them both and wrapped her arm around him. He looked small and vulnerable, and her heart turned over with tenderness for the little boy. How unfair it was that he’d lost his mom before he’d even known her. He’d have no memories of the woman who’d sacrificed her life for him. Lauren gently brushed the dark hair aside and pressed her lips to Tyler’s forehead. It was just a fleeting thought, but there was an answering pang in her heart. I wish you were mine.
Chapter 42
A full moon hung above the bay, its light shining gently on Tyler’s face. He lay on his back now, his lips stretched into a beatific smile. Sophie sat on the side of the bed, her nearly translucent hand stilled in a loving caress over his cheek. Silvery tears slid down her cheeks as she looked down at the little boy, grief etched into the lines of her face. She didn’t look up or acknowledge Lauren’s gaze. She stood up and was swallowed by the shadows before Lauren was even fully awake. She wondered if it was her waking that had forced Sophie to leave, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she heard a car coming up the hill. Ryan was back.
Lauren peered at her watch. It was just after ten. She’d been asleep for nearly two hours. She slid out of bed and crept downstairs to open the door. Billy raised his head, his dark eyes glazed with sleep.
“Go back to sleep,” Lauren whispered to him, hoping to keep him from barking and waking Tyler. Billy laid his head back on his paws and closed his eyes, too tired to worry about who dared to come calling at such a late hour.
Lauren opened the door and watched Ryan get out of the car. His movements were sluggish, as if he’d been drinking, his face drawn and shadowed despite the light of the moon. He walked toward her, and she opened her arms to him, sensing that he needed comfort.
Ryan walked into her embrace and rested his chin atop her head. “I couldn’t save him,” he said quietly. “He was too broken.”
“I’m sorry,” Lauren whispered into his shoulder. “I’m sure you did your best.”
“Sometimes my best isn’t enough. Mrs. Leonard is devastated. She’s in her eighties, and Brutus has been with her since before her husband died. He was her trusted companion, her best friend. She’ll be lost without him.”
“Does she have children?” Lauren asked.
“She does, but children often neglect their aging parents and assume they�
��re as self-sufficient and energetic as they used to be. I don’t think Mrs. Leonard will last long on her own. She might need to go into a home.”
“Come inside,” Lauren said softly. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes,” Ryan said. “I could use one. How’s Ty?”
“He’s asleep in my bed. We went for a long walk, had grilled cheese sandwiches, and then I put him to bed.”
“I hope you had cherry tomatoes,” Ryan said with a sad smile. “Ty loves them.”
“Not to worry. Cherry tomatoes were enjoyed by all.”
She took Ryan by the hand and led him to the living room, where he sat heavily on the couch. He looked exhausted and heartbroken. Lauren went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of red wine. Ryan probably needed something stronger, but she didn’t want to offer him the whisky if he were to drive home. She poured two glasses and brought them into the living room. Ryan was exactly where she’d left him, staring out into the night beyond the patio door. He accepted the wine and drank it in three gulps, then set the glass on the coffee table.
Lauren sat next to him and he reached for her hand, enveloping it in his own. “It’s the people left behind I always feel sorry for,” he said softly. “They’re the ones who suffer the most.”
Like you and Tyler, Lauren thought miserably. Like me. Death was hardest on those left behind.
Lauren rested her head on Ryan’s shoulder, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head. “You understand,” he said. His voice was barely audible, but she heard him. Yes, she understood.
She lifted her head to tell him as much, but never got the chance. His lips found hers, and she kissed him back with all the desperate longing she’d been trying to suppress since she first met him. She hadn’t realized it at first, but she was in love with him, with his gentleness and sensitivity that she had sometimes found missing in Zack. She knew a part of Ryan’s heart would always belong to Alicia, but she felt no jealousy or resentment. In fact, she respected him all the more for not rushing to replace the woman he’d loved.
Ryan pulled her closer and her thoughts fragmented. She’d forgotten what it was like to feel that surge of need or the heat pooling in her lower belly as white-hot passion throbbed between her legs. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her, kissing him hard.
Ryan responded instantly, his body pinning her down and his hips grinding against her. Lauren could feel his arousal against her thigh, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to have him inside her, their bodies finally joined together after weeks of dancing around their obvious attraction. She slipped her hand beneath his shirt, her fingers exploring his taut stomach and the velvety skin of his chest. Ryan’s lips traced the curve of her neck, his hand cupping her breast. Lauren arched her back, needing to feel him closer, to become a part of him.
“Daddy!” Tyler called out. He was standing at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Daddy, I want to go home.”
Ryan sat bolt upright, his gaze instantly going to his son. “Great timing, buddy,” he murmured. “I was hoping he’d sleep a little longer,” Ryan said apologetically. “I have to take him home.”
“You can both stay here,” Lauren suggested, but Ryan shook his head and stood, leaving her alone on the couch.
Lauren watched as he walked out of the room and up the stairs and lifted Tyler into his arms. Tyler instantly rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder and closed his eyes, no longer frightened of finding himself alone in a strange bed.
“The bed is like a ship,” he muttered. “I was afraid it would take me away.”
“Don’t you worry, Ty,” Ryan replied softly. “You’re not going anywhere, not without me. Come, let’s get you home.”
Lauren followed Ryan to the door, where he stopped to face her, reaching out to caress her face. His eyes were filled with regret. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I’d like more than to stay,” he said softly.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Lauren said, but she was sorry too.
Ryan nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” Ryan leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on her lips. “Sleep well.”
Chapter 43
Lauren locked the door after Ryan and returned to her room. The euphoria she’d felt earlier had fizzled, leaving her feeling alone and unsettled. She’d wanted Ryan, there was no question about that, and she was sure he’d wanted her just as much, but what would the morning have brought had they slept together?
Lauren climbed into bed and gazed toward the desk. She almost wished Sophie were there, gazing out over the moonlit bay, her face filled with longing. Lauren wasn’t sure why, but she felt a kinship with the woman, an odd sort of connection. Perhaps it was because both of them had suffered at the hands of love.
Kicking off the blanket, Lauren marched to the window and opened it to let the cool spring air wash over her. She was hot, and frustrated. Ryan’s kisses had made her feel like a snowdrop bloom that had pushed through the snow to reach for the sun. For just a few moments, she’d come alive, her body thrumming with the need to give and receive. She’d felt the heat of Ryan’s skin and tasted the question on his lips, and her answer had been yes. She was ready. But was he? Circumstances she’d told no one about had diluted her grief and forced her to take a good hard look at her marriage, but Ryan’s situation had been different, and he had a small child to think of. She thought he wanted a relationship with her, but how would it work with three rather than two people?
Tyler would always come first, and she’d have to stand aside and allow Ryan to see to his son’s needs, both physical and emotional. She was sure she could love Tyler; in fact, she was half in love with him already, but would she feel left out and resentful if her feelings were consistently put on hold? She wasn’t sure. She’d never had a child of her own, so she couldn’t fully understand the feelings of a parent, but some primal instinct told her she’d be a good mom, a selfless mom, even to a child she hadn’t given life to. Tyler needed love, they all did, and sometimes one plus one added up to three. But was Ryan ready for a committed relationship, or was he, too, looking for a way to break through the layers of snow and ice to look at the sun?
Chapter 44
Sophie
February 1728
Sophie was eager for her life with Teddy to truly begin, but she was also scared out of her wits. Teddy would leave her by the end of March. During the intervening weeks, they’d have to find a place to settle and a way for Sophie to manage on her own until Teddy was able to return to her. The threat of George finding her was as great as ever, and Teddy’s depleted finances left them in something of a lurch. The money wouldn’t last longer than a few months, not after the initial expenses of setting up a home were seen to.
Sophie wrapped the blanket tighter around John Theo and kissed the top of his head as they prepared to leave. After several days of living with his new parents, he seemed less frightened, but he didn’t make eye contact with anyone or utter any sounds. His withdrawal terrified Sophie, especially when compared to Libby’s animated chatter, her meaningless babble beginning to sound like words.
“Give him time, Sophie,” Molly said, her gaze on the silent child. “He’s been separated from the only family he’s ever known. He was loved and cared for, and he was taken away from them without any warning. He doesn’t have the words to express how he feels, but surely he’s in great turmoil.”
“But Teddy and I are his real parents,” Sophie protested.
“But he doesn’t know that, nor does he care at this stage. He was taken from people he loved and trusted and thrust into an unfamiliar situation. Have patience.”
Sophie nodded, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Put like that, what they had done to John Theo sounded positively barbaric.
“I’m your mama, John Theo,” Sophie whispered to him once they were seated on the bench of the wagon. “I love you, and I will be the soul of patience. You take as long as you need, my dove.”
&nbs
p; Teddy reached out and patted her hand in a silent gesture of support. Sophie felt uneasy as she waved goodbye to Molly and Brock, who’d come outside to see them off, but Teddy was eager to leave, his thoughts already on the journey ahead
“How far are we traveling?” Caleb asked from the back of the wagon. He was a stocky youth of about fifteen, with an unruly mane of dark hair and the blue eyes that were so prevalent in Teddy’s family. Caleb was the son of Teddy’s father’s only sister, who’d died recently, leaving Caleb to fend for himself. Having learned of his aunt’s death from his mother, Teddy had asked Brock to locate Caleb and bring him back to the farm should he be interested in better-paying employment than working at the docks.
“Why does he have to come with us?” Sophie had asked as they lay entwined on their pallet in the loft the night before.
“I can’t leave you on your own, Soph. Surely you understand that. You need a man about the place, someone to chop wood, carry buckets of water, and come to your aid should anything or anyone threaten your safety.”
“You mean George.”
“I mean anyone, Poppet. A woman is not safe on her own. Caleb is a good lad. He’s young and strong, and most importantly, he’s resourceful. He’ll look after you and John Theo.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Sophie moaned.
“I hate to leave you when I’ve only just found you again, but I’ve no choice. Besides, we need my share of the plunder to live on. I’m in no position to seek honest employment. As soon as word gets out that I’m back, I’ll be arrested.”
“But what happened wasn’t your fault,” Sophie argued. “You were taken against your will.”
Teddy shook his head at her naivete. “Sweetheart, it was my fault, and I’ll be charged with smuggling, dereliction of duty, piracy, and quite possibly even treason, since Captain Martel had ordered us to fire on a British man-of-war when it gave chase.”
Sophie sighed. Teddy was right. There was no going back. He was an outlaw and she was a runaway wife. Neither one of them would ever be safe again, especially if they remained anywhere near Boston. Teddy hadn’t said anything, and she’d been too afraid to ask, but she had her suspicions about the attack on George. Teddy couldn’t do anything to repay George for his treatment of her openly or legally, but she couldn’t imagine he would let George’s cruelty go unpunished. If Teddy had been the one to administer the beating, she could hardly fault him, nor could she deny that she felt a glow of satisfaction at the knowledge that George had suffered not only emotionally but physically. Perhaps now he’d know how it felt to be the helpless victim of someone who meant to cause him pain.
The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 23