Their Small-Town Love

by Arlene James

  “Still time to pray on it,” Holt noted, but Ryan saw the glance he flashed at Cara and the secretive smile that tilted her lips.

  Wouldn’t be long now, Ryan told himself, before the family would be celebrating the announcement of yet another new addition to the family. To his surprise, the idea settled with as much dismay as satisfaction, which made no sense whatsoever. Hap’s life would be turned upside down if Cara could no longer help out with the motel, but all that would really mean for Ryan would be another nephew or niece to love. No reason why he should feel so blue all of a sudden.

  He glanced at Ace, and the little boy’s gaze zipped up from the minced ham he was intent on cramming into his mouth. Ace could lock in on the least scrap of attention like a homing pigeon sighting its coop, and he beamed his new uncle a toothy smile, all four components of which were recent acquisitions. Some unfamiliar string twanged inside Ryan’s chest. Mentally gulping, he gave the little guy a wink before dropping his attention to his plate.

  As usual, the ladies had put together a fine meal, combining Charlotte’s down-home expertise with Cara’s California sensibility. Ham with red-eye gravy, fluffy mashed potatoes and greens spiced with onion and bacon combined with steamed broccoli and almonds, bell peppers stuffed with chopped zucchini and pineapple, whole wheat dinner rolls and thick tomato slices broiled with cheese. Even Charlotte’s exquisite deviled eggs had been paired with slices of creamy California avocado, to excellent, if eclectic, effect.

  Ryan concentrated on eating as much of the bounty as he could manage. His own bachelor household rarely contained more than dry cereal, canned soup and minimal sandwich makings. Those few items and a bag of potato chips pretty much comprised his weekly shopping list as he ate most of his lunches at the school cafeteria and dinner at this very table as many times a week as he could manage, which wasn’t as often as he’d have liked given the many after-school activities that required his presence.

  Intent on his food, he missed the conversational switch, only belatedly becoming aware that it now somehow centered on him.

  “What?” he asked, looking around in confusion.

  His sister glared down at him from the far side of the table, a heavily laden plate in her hands. “Are you going to take this out to Ivy or not?”

  Momentarily dumbfounded, he glanced from Hap’s calm visage to Holt’s challenging one and then on to Ty’s muted expression of apologetic sympathy. A picture of Ivy’s tearstained face materialized before his mind’s eye, and a tumult of contradictory emotions exploded inside his chest. Compassion, dread, excitement, apprehension, curiosity and suspicion all combined into a toxic brew, overlaid by a sudden, unfamiliar surge of irritation.

  He simply couldn’t figure out why his family expected him to interact with Ivy again. Didn’t they have the least understanding of his situation here? Despite that, hadn’t he done as they’d asked before and invited Ivy to join them for dinner? He had even urged her, with honest concern, to accept the invitation. What more did they want from him? He looked at his sister and brother-in-law, then his brother and sister-in-law, and it dawned on him.

  Matchmaking. They were trying to pair him up with Ivy Villard!

  Disgusted, he shoved his chair back from the table and did something so rare that he shocked even himself: He let his temper ignite.

  “No!” he barked. “And I don’t appreciate all this pressure!”

  Four gaping mouths and one sagely speculative look were the last things he saw before he snagged his coat from the back of his chair and slammed out of the room. The latter remained with him the longest. The light of conjecture in his grandfather’s eyes disturbed him even more than his own uncharacteristic outburst, for it seemed to contain a knowledge that Ryan feared he might have missed, knowledge about himself.

  He tried to tell himself that his family did not seem to consider his responsibility to the community at all. Did the marriages of his siblings suddenly give them greater standing within the family hierarchy than him? Didn’t his calling weigh as heavily with them as Ty’s position as CEO of Aldrich and Associates and Holt’s business as a wildcatter and oil driller?

  That tactic worked for a while, almost until he turned his late-model, midsize domestic sedan into the narrow drive of his house on the northeast side of town. More than half a century old, with pristine white siding and a modern, white composition shingle roof, the house stood flanked on three sides by deep, welcoming porches, hemmed in on either end by sturdy chimneys of dark red brick.

  He’d fallen in love with the place at first sight. Being all of ten years old at the time, it hadn’t occurred to him that he might own it one day. Over the years, he’d made time to travel past the place whenever he could, just to gaze at its homey, welcoming exterior and note the little changes, some good, some not so much, that time and its owners inflicted. At one point, it had seemed almost derelict, with peeling paint, broken windows and sagging porches. Then, a couple from a neighboring community had bought the place and brought it back to life, renovating and updating. When her mother died, the couple had chosen to move their family into her ailing father’s house in order to care for him, and that’s how the house on Magnolia Avenue had come into Ryan’s hands.

  “Solid as a rock,” the previous owner had told him, “and more interesting than a new house. No, sir, they don’t build them like this anymore.”

  The house, as he well knew, had been intended for a family, and it had, indeed, nurtured several. He hoped that it would again one day, after him, but for the first time that thought came with a pang that he simply did not understand, a twinge of dissatisfaction that seemed to match, all too well, that worrisome gleam in his grandfather’s eye.

  Sitting behind the tinted windows of her hybrid, Ivy gripped the steering wheel and swallowed air in an effort to calm her roiling stomach. Suddenly glad that she hadn’t been able to do better justice to the plate of food that Ryan’s sweet sister-in-law, Cara, had brought over to her room last night, Ivy pressed a hand to her abdomen and whispered a prayer for strength and courage.

  She had spent much of Easter evening confessing the selfishness and envy that fed her dread of this meeting, yet here she sat, trembling with the need to run right back to her room and lock the door. Logically, she knew that option held no solution for her. She had been over this a million times in her mind and could find only one way forward. Her father might spurn her apologies and publicly vilify her name, but her sister offered a measure of forgiveness and acceptance that Ivy simply could not ignore. After all she had done, to refuse her sister’s outstretched hand would be unforgivable.

  Oh, but why, she asked herself, hadn’t she considered the possibility that Rose might have children by now? Then again, Ivy already knew the answer to that question. She hadn’t considered that possibility because she hadn’t been able to face it. Her heartbreak and guilt had prevented her from thinking about children, especially children her good and wholesome sister might have.

  Rose was the good daughter who had abandoned neither her principles nor her father. She had married a man he approved of, and she undoubtedly mothered her children with love and pride. For that she deserved the esteem of her family and friends. Even Ivy admired her for the course she had taken and the life she had built. Yes, Rose deserved every good blessing, and if Ivy could not be the wife and mother that Rose was, at least from now on she could be the sister that Rose deserved, even if that meant being an aunt to Rose’s children.

  Knowing that if she gave herself one more moment to consider she would flee like the coward she was, Ivy opened the car door and slipped out to dash across the street to the simple two-story home. Sitting as it did on Hydrangea Lane in one of the newer neighborhoods on the south side of Eden, the lot lacked the overarching majesty of the ancient trees that graced so much of the small town. It made up for that lack, however, with an abundance of mature evergreen hedges, thick grass and neat, gracefully flowing flowerbeds, which currently boasted a very colorf
ul, if somewhat regimented, display of yellow and red tulips. Although clearly too narrow for it, the flat stoop boasted a green metal glider to one side of the glass-fronted storm door and a large, terra-cotta flower pot overflowing with pink silk hydrangea blossoms, a tribute, no doubt, to the name of the street.

  Ivy had barely removed her finger from the doorbell button when her sister appeared in the dark entry hall, a smile of welcome on her face despite her swollen ankles and ungainly girth. She seemed to have gotten even bigger in the past day and a half, her maternity T-shirt stretched taut across her belly. With her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and her face devoid of cosmetics, she looked far too young to be so pregnant.

  Rose pushed open the door and wrapped Ivy in a milk-and-cereal-scented hug, whispering, “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “So was I,” Ivy admitted with a watery chortle.

  Rose turned and, waddling, led Ivy down the long, narrow hallway to the large family room at the center of the house. Two little boys with the raven black hair, brown eyes and square face of their father looked up from the carpeted floor, where they sat watching the television in the corner. Rose picked up a remote control device from the dark blue plush sofa and aimed it at the TV, shutting off the set. The oldest of the boys got to his feet. Wearing gray knit sweats and white socks, his dark hair sticking up in the back due to a cowlick at the crown of his head, he looked positively adorable, if a little solemn.

  His mother dropped a hand on his shoulder, saying, “This is Hunter. He’s just about to turn five.”

  That would make him a full year younger than Chelsea, Ivy thought as Rose completed the introduction, identifying her as their aunt.

  “Hello,” she said, hating the tentative sound of her voice.

  A smile broke across Hunter’s face. Full of joyous welcome and instant acceptance, that smile warmed Ivy in places she had not even realized were frozen until they began to thaw. Little Scott, not quite three, flopped back onto his elbows and eyed Ivy with wary curiosity. Dressed in jeans, a bright red shirt sporting more than one stain, and faded red socks, he seemed slighter and more like his mom than his big brother.

  “Takes him a minute to warm up,” Rose said without the least censure or concern in her voice. “Sit down while I get us something to drink.”

  “Don’t put yourself out,” Ivy insisted.

  Rose blithely ignored her, turning toward the kitchen. “Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee, if you have it.”

  “Decaf or regular?” Rose asked.

  “Premium,” Ivy quipped, folding herself down onto the edge of the comfortable sofa. “I need all the caffeine I can get.”

  Laughing, Rose began opening and closing doors in the kitchen while Ivy sat and smiled stiltedly at her nephews. Scott flopped back and forth on the floor, silently flirting with her, while Hunter picked up a chunky yellow toy truck and brought it to her for examination.

  “Very nice.”

  “It goes by itself,” he announced, “when it’s got batteries.”

  “I see.”

  Unable to resist, she smoothed a hand over his side beneath his arm, feeling the sturdiness of his ribs. Suddenly, she found herself engulfed in an exuberant hug. It was all she could do not to weep. Then, obviously determined not to be left out, Scott launched himself at her, and she was lost. Hopelessly enchanted, heartbreakingly in love, she laughed and cried and covered the tears with more laughter and, eventually, cups of hot, black coffee and her sister’s calm, easy conversation.

  Gradually, the awkwardness fell away and gladness settled in. For the first time, Ivy tasted a subtle hint of redemption and found it sweet, indeed. She silently thanked God for giving her the courage not to miss out on one of the happiest mornings of her life.

  Shielding his eyes against the setting sun that currently painted the metal bleachers across the field in blinding brilliance, Ryan struggled to make out the form that materialized from the glare. To his surprise, he recognized Daniel Halsey, Ivy’s brother-in-law. Something told Ryan that Dan’s appearance in the sports stadium on this Monday afternoon had nothing to do with his coaching responsibilities. The middle school track team often worked out in the stadium, of course, but Daniel primarily coached baseball. Then again, Ryan primarily coached football, but here he was, helping to supervise the boys’ varsity track team at their after-school practice.

  He waited until it became obvious that Daniel had come specifically to see him before he gave the head track coach a nod and moved off to intercept Dan on the turf in the center of the football field.

  They greeted each other with handshakes and nods before Dan asked, “Got a minute?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  Daniel slid his hands into the pockets of his pleated khakis and ducked his head. Ryan told himself that this unexpected visit could have to do with any number of subjects—from the condition of the rubber track that encircled the football field to a behavior issue with some older student—but he knew instinctively that Dan had come about Ivy. Ryan pursed his lips and waited.

  “Has Ivy told you when she’s leaving?”

  Surprised on several levels by the question, if not the subject, Ryan shook his head. “Why would you be asking me that? You’re her brother-in-law. Surely you have more reason to know Ivy’s plans than I would.”

  Daniel sighed and said, “We had no clue that she was even coming to town, and since Rose mentioned that you took her to the sunrise service yesterday, I thought maybe Ivy had discussed her plans with you.”

  “I didn’t exactly take her to the service,” Ryan hedged uncomfortably. “We walked over together from the motel, that’s all.” He waited a heartbeat before adding, “I guess you know what went on there with Olie.”

  Daniel made a face. “I know he said some unkind things.”

  “Unkind?” Ryan scoffed. “They were more than that, Dan. The whole thing was downright ugly. I had no idea that Olie could be so nasty, especially to his own daughter.”

  Anger flashed across Daniel’s usually placid face. “You don’t have to tell me about either one of them. Those two have been putting my wife through an emotional wringer for years, and frankly, I’m tired of it.”

  Ryan frowned thoughtfully before saying, “Look, I don’t know anything about your family business, but what happened yesterday is all on Olie. His hateful words crushed Ivy, reduced her to tears. She tried to be civil, but he wouldn’t have it.”

  Daniel winced. “It’s just the timing of this whole thing. This pregnancy has been difficult for Rose, and she doesn’t need a lot of emotional upset right now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ryan said, clapping a hand down on Dan’s shoulder. “I’ll be sure to pray for her.”

  “Thank you,” Daniel smiled wanly. “I appreciate that, but I can’t help worrying. Of all the times that Ivy could have picked to visit, this is the worst.”

  “I’m sure Ivy wants only the best for her sister.”

  “Who knows what Ivy wants?” Daniel grumbled.

  “Maybe you should just explain the situation to her,” Ryan counseled. “She’ll understand and do her part to spare Rose any unnecessary upset.”

  “You think? Because if Ivy gets upset with me, then Rose will, too. In fact, if Rose even gets wind of such a conversation, she’ll be fit to be tied. I know it.”

  Before Ryan could formulate a reply to that, the satellite phone in his hip pocket vibrated and began playing the Eden Memorial High School fight song. Right after Tyler had given the family these nifty little phones, owing to the problematic cell service in the area, Ryan had searched the Internet for the tune and downloaded it himself, much to the amusement of his students, coworkers, family and friends. Shrugging apologetically, Ryan snatched the phone and glanced at the screen. He frowned at his companion.

  “Dan, that’s you calling.”

  “Me? Must be Rosie calling from the house, but why would she call you?”

  Ryan hel
d up a stalling hand, pressed the green button and lifted the tiny phone to his ear. “Ryan Jefford here.”

  “Ryan,” Ivy’s voice gasped. “You’ve got to help me. Rose won’t let me call the police, but I can’t find Daniel, and I don’t dare leave her alone here with the boys!”

  Alarm flashed through him, but also a leveling calm. “It’s all right. Dan’s here with me.”

  “Oh, thank God! Thank God! I just couldn’t think who else to call!”

  He assumed that Ivy had gotten his cell number either by calling his office and listening to the message he had recorded or by calling the motel, but he really couldn’t have cared less at the moment. “Is Rose okay?” he asked, switching his gaze to Daniel’s already fearful face.

  “No. She’s in labor, and it’s too early.”

  “Have you called an ambulance?”

  “It’ll take at least a half-hour for them to get here. I don’t think she can wait.”

  Ryan saw the panic dawning in Daniel’s dark eyes and knew that the other man would be out of his mind with worry as soon as he heard this news. Ryan could think of only one thing to do: He’d have to drive Daniel home, and then they’d see.

  “We’re on our way,” he told Ivy, ending the call.

  While Daniel constantly skimmed his hand through his hair in agitation, Ryan quickly guided the sedan through the streets of Eden. In an effort to calm the other man, Ryan began to pray aloud, speaking the thoughts that had been circling through his mind since Ivy had called.

  “Lord, Your timing is perfect and always works to our best, but we’re frightened about the possibility of Rose’s baby coming too early. Please protect Rose and her child. Prepare the way and help us be calm and careful. Comfort Rose, Daniel, Ivy and the boys. Give the doctors wisdom and skill, and cradle that precious new life and tiny body in Your protective hands. Protect Rose and her health and return her quickly to her home and the loving arms of her husband and sons.”