She tilted her head like a curious bird. “You have more books than the Boomer County library.”
“Most of them were my father’s.”
She ran her fingers down the spines of the science and history books, then the biographies and accounts of true crime, each a testament to his father’s fascination with the human mind. After browsing Ryan’s paperbacks—mostly adventure stories and mysteries with dark covers—her gaze dipped to the bottom shelf where he kept his mother’s books. A gap revealed the spot reserved for the Bible now open on his desk. Ryan hurriedly closed it and moved to slide it under the morning paper, but before he finished, Carly turned.
Her gaze flicked to his face, her expression unchanged. If she spotted the Bible, she chose not to mention it. Instead, she turned to the shelves. “Your parents had very different tastes.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m curious about something.”
Aside from the news about Allison, it was the first time in days she’d started a conversation. Pleased, he leaned his hips on the edge of the desk. “Ask away.”
“Did your father share your mother’s faith?”
“Not at all.”
“Did they get along?”
It was a nosy question—unless she was asking Ryan if he thought they could get along. He hoped so, because he very much wanted to find that middle ground. “My father called himself an agnostic. He was brilliant, and he let everyone know it. My mother’s religious streak embarrassed him.”
“Oh.” She nibbled her lip. “That’s too bad.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. Two people can have different opinions and still respect each other, don’t you think?”
“Of course. It’s just . . .” She fluttered her hand. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Tell me.”
She glanced back at the upper shelves, the ones with the medical books. “I have to wonder if respect is enough, or if it would have been enough for them . . . in marriage.”
Her stammering charmed him. It also told him she was thinking the same way he was. They just had to find a middle ground. “Respect is a good place to start.” They were alone. The office was private. Should he tell her he was reading the Bible out of respect for her? He was considering it when the doorbell rang.
“That must be Denise.” Carly hurried down the hall.
Ryan followed in her wake, but his mind stayed in the study where books with conflicting ideas sat on different shelves but in the same room. From his perspective the differences between Carly and himself were merely philosophical. As far as everyday life, they could do things her way. So what did that mean?
Marriage, definitely.
Church on Sundays? Sure, why not?
Children? He hoped so, and he had no qualms about good-night prayers and Bible stories.
An idea formed in his mind, one that skipped dating and went straight to wedding rings. With Carly, there could be no in-between, because their relationship affected his entire family. It was all or nothing. And Ryan wanted it all. The sooner they got married, the better. But some conventions had to be observed, like meeting her father. As a father himself, Ryan knew what he’d think of a man proposing to his daughter without the guts to introduce himself first. He’d think that man was rude or a coward.
Ryan was neither. As soon as he finished with Denise, he’d call Reverend Paul Mason and invite him to surprise Carly with a visit. Ryan hoped the man wouldn’t be overwhelmed by either Los Angeles or Ryan’s sophisticated lifestyle. Los Angeles was a big change from Boomer County, especially for a small-town preacher.
He also hoped they could agree on how to make Carly happy, because mentally, Ryan added a final item to his SOS list. It was just two words: Marry Carly.
Carly handed Penny off to Denise with a kiss and a hug. Ryan walked them to the car, and she fled to the laundry room. There were shirts to hang or they’d wrinkle, but mostly she needed to breathe without smelling Ryan’s tangy aftershave or thinking about that brush of his lips on her cheek.
Or that open book on his desk, the one he had tried to hide.
Just before he shoved it out of sight, she had noticed the hole on the shelf between Redeeming Love and My Utmost for His Highest, two of her personal favorites. Intending to ask him about it, she turned just in time to see him slide a thick book under the morning paper. It had to be his mother’s Bible.
With her stomach churning, she reached into the spinning clothes dryer, snatched one of Ryan’s shirts, and draped it on a blue plastic hanger. He’d picked up the Bible for a reason—maybe because of his feelings for her. She straightened the shirt with trembling fingers, smoothed the sleeves, and wrestled with the question that had plagued her since that almost-kiss. Was respect for her faith enough? She longed to say yes, but doubt squirmed through her. Maybe she’d call her father for advice. But what would she say? “Daddy, I’m in love with Ryan. He doesn’t believe in God, but he loves me and respects my faith. Surely that’s enough.”
With another of Ryan’s shirts hot in her hand, her mind leapt to a future where she went to church alone, worshiped alone, then tucked their children into bed with a prayer their father didn’t understand.
“Carly?” It was Eric.
“What’s up?”
“I’m packing, and I can’t find the T-shirt my dad bought at the museum.”
She reached in the dryer, found the shirt with the Science Center logo, and handed it to him. He wore it constantly. “This one?”
“That’s it!” He took it and left but turned at the door. “Thanks for doing laundry . . . and everything else, like driving me around.”
“It’s my . . .” job. But she couldn’t say that and didn’t want to say it. Working for the Tremaines was more than a job. She loved them, though she knew better than to say that to a thirteen-year-old boy. “I’m happy to be here.”
“Cool, ’cause I hope you stay a long time.”
He darted back down the hall, leaving Carly with the scent of dryer sheets in her nose and a hole in her heart. She loved this family. Loved them all. She loved them too much to ever leave, even if it meant visiting Kentucky instead of living there permanently. That’s what women did for love. Men too, sometimes. Geography was the least of her worries. The real differences between herself and Ryan were cosmic and personal.
Gloom as thick as dryer lint muddled her thoughts. Fighting it, she hung up Ryan’s navy polo shirt, then buttoned the collar so it would hang straight, because that’s what he liked. It annoyed her to do it, but it was a matter of respecting her boss’s wishes.
Marriage, too, required compromise. But what if she married Ryan and they drifted further apart? If he respected her faith, she’d be obligated to accept his lack of it. But how could she? The path he chose would set the compass for his immortal soul. How could she possibly hold her tongue when the stakes were so high?
With her heart aching, she finished hanging up the shirts, closed the dryer, and went to her room to beg God for wisdom.
27
When the charter boat left the Ventura marina, the seven members of the Tremaine party were its only passengers. Ten miles away, Anacapa Island rose jaggedly from the blue-gray water, a chain of three islets with steep cliffs and jagged faces. The sky burned its brightest blue, and the salty air sparkled with the promise of adventure.
It was a glorious day, but Carly found it difficult to share the enthusiasm spilling off Ryan and the kids. Seated alone in the stern of the boat, on a red cushion that squeaked when she moved, she took in the tableau on the bow. Kyle and Taylor stood on one side, their shoulders touching as they stared across the water. Taylor’s older sister, Nicole, stood next to her. Eric, Nathan, and Ryan were lined up on the other side of the bow.
Ryan pointed at something in the distance. Eric jabbed Nathan in the ribs, then called to Kyle and the girls. The boat engine quieted to a burble, and Ryan faced her, his sunglasses in place.
“C
arly!” He waved her forward. “You have to see this.”
Balancing against the rock of the boat, she made her way forward, peered into the distance, and saw countless flashes of silver arching out of the water. Dolphins! They were directly in front of the boat, leaping and shining and so beautiful she caught her breath.
The captain’s voice crackled over the PA. “This doesn’t happen every day, folks. We’ve encountered a pod of dolphins, one of the largest I’ve ever seen. We’re going to stick around and enjoy it.”
Carly hurried along the side of the cabin. Ryan walked back to meet her, gripped her hand before she could dodge, and together they moved to the front. “This is incredible,” he said just to her. The boat dipped and threw her off balance. Still holding his hand, she leveraged against the strength of his forearm, acutely aware of both the need to let go and the desire to hold on.
When Eric stepped closer to Nathan for a better view, Ryan guided Carly to the spot at the tip of the bow. Just twenty feet away, a single dolphin broke through the water in a perfect arc, its gray body glistening in the sun. Another dolphin leapt into the air, then another. There were dolphins as far as she could see, swimming and leaping in unison.
The captain cut the engine completely, plunging them into silence, punctuated by the ripple of the dolphin ballet. Glory to God! It was all Carly could think. Who could doubt the existence of a creator at the sight of such perfection?
The captain, a man in his forties, called down from the cockpit. “I’m in no hurry, folks. How about you?”
Ryan answered back. “No hurry at all.”
“Anyone want binoculars?” The captain dangled a pair down to them.
Eric tore his eyes off the dolphins just long enough to take the lenses and call out, “Thanks!”
Kyle, Taylor, and Nicole were all on their toes, straining to catch every leap and effortless splash. Ryan laid his hand on the small of Carly’s back and smiled at her. He was usually clean shaven, obsessively so, but three days ago he’d announced at dinner he was on vacation and not shaving. The bristle made him rugged and rebellious, a bit of a rogue, and the pirate who had almost kissed her. When he beamed a smile just for her, she could barely breathe. Their eyes locked until she blinked, then they both turned back to the dolphins shooting past the boat.
They watched in silence until Ryan murmured, “It’s astonishing, isn’t it? They’re in complete sync with each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re individual creatures with differences we can’t see. But they’re going in the same direction. In the ways that count most, they’re the same—like you and me.”
Carly longed to agree with him, but she and Ryan weren’t dolphins driven by instinct. They were human beings capable of moral choices, mistakes, and powerful emotions like the ones coursing through her now. Determined to hide that painful brew, she shielded her eyes and watched the last of the dolphins swim by.
“What do you see in all this?” he asked her.
“I see God’s handiwork.”
“Anything else?”
He wanted something from her, but what? Carly didn’t know, but when a man began to search for God, the majesty of creation was a good place to start, especially on a day as blessed as this one. Her heart gave a little leap. “I see beauty. And intelligence. Even love, because the dolphins stick together through thick and thin.”
“We see the same things. We just start in different places.”
“I suppose we do.” But that starting place mattered.
Before she could explain, the captain revved the engine and swung the bow toward Anacapa. Gravity pushed her against Ryan’s side. He steadied her with an arm around her shoulder, held her close for a stolen moment, then released her and joined Eric and Nathan.
Eric stared at the last of the dolphins through the binoculars, savoring every minute.
“That was remarkable,” Ryan said to him.
“Yeah.” Eric lowered the lenses. “I’ve read a lot about dolphins, but to see them in the wild . . . wow.”
“We’re just getting started.” Ryan pointed to the chain of islets ahead of them. “Keep your eyes open for sea lions. They hang out on the rocks.”
Eric started to raise the binoculars but stopped. “Hey, Carly. Would you like to look?”
She preferred watching Eric enjoy himself, but the proud look on Ryan’s face reminded her this trip was about boys becoming men, Eric getting center stage, and Ryan finishing his SOS list.
“Thanks,” she said, reaching for them.
With the lenses pressed to her eyes, she studied the chain of giant rocks, carved by eons of waves, wind, and bad weather. The eastern islet, where they would camp, was flat on top and mostly brown from the dry summer. A lighthouse jutted up from the center of it, and she spotted a couple of white buildings used by the park ranger.
The west and center islands were jagged, accessible only by boat, and eerily gothic in their isolation. The sight of them depressed her, because she felt a lot like one of the rocks, a part of something but not quite connected. The weight of the binoculars tugged her hands downward, but she kept her bare eyes on Anacapa. With her face to the wind, she silently begged God to show her how to love Ryan like He did.
Ryan was worried about Carly. She wasn’t herself, a surprise considering Brie had found Allison and how well the kids were getting along. He expected her to rejoice and celebrate, even praise God, but her occasional smiles didn’t reach her eyes.
Maybe that upcoming visit from her father would chase away the gloom. Paul Mason had grunted a lot when Ryan spoke to him yesterday, but he didn’t seem surprised by the call. Either he was good at masking his reactions, or he wasn’t very articulate. Either way, he told Ryan he would do some planning and get back to him with dates.
At Ryan’s request, they agreed to wait to share the news with Carly. If Ryan told her now, the call would raise the question “why,” and he wanted to romance her a little before he proposed to her. The island was the perfect spot for a walk at sunset, maybe that first kiss. Or maybe not. He needed to set high standards for his sons, and that meant holding himself back.
Sighing, he dug his hands in his pockets and peered into the rectangular cove where the boat would dock. The captain slowed the engine to a chug, steered past the kelp beds, and navigated between the thirty-foot sheer rock walls. The cove was dark and chilly, silent, and preternatural in its mood.
Carly looked up at the patch of sky and shivered. “I’ll be glad to get back in the sun.”
“Me too,” Taylor said.
Ryan couldn’t put his arm around her without raising eyebrows, so he settled for his second choice. “I’ll get your hoodie from the cabin.”
“I’ll do it.” Before he could protest, she slipped away.
The captain backed the boat against the dock. A worker from the charter company greeted them and unloaded the gear that included two tents, a camp stove, a cooler, sleeping bags, duffels, food, and water—all for just one night, and it had to be carried up the hundred seventy-eight stairs zigzagging across the face of a cliff.
As much as he wanted to focus on Carly, he and his sons had a job to do. “Okay, guys. Let’s get this stuff up the stairs.”
Kyle lifted the ice chest, then told Taylor to put her duffel on top. She insisted she could carry it herself, along with two sleeping bags. Nicole picked up her things; Eric and Nathan grabbed the tents; and Ryan took the two five-gallon water jugs. Carly did her part with her duffel and a sleeping bag, but several items remained to be carried up the stairs.
“Looks like two trips,” Ryan said. “Ladies, why don’t you wait here?” The females didn’t need to be coddled, but Ryan wanted to give his sons a lesson in gallantry.
Carly must have understood, because she made a show of looking up at the stairs as if they were Mt. Everest. “That sounds good to me.”
“Not to me!” Taylor lifted the two sleeping bags like dumbbells. Before Kyle co
uld say anything, she sprinted for the stairs. He stumbled after her with the clunky ice chest, and Nicole followed them. Eric and Nathan passed the others at full speed.
With a shake of his head, Ryan turned to Carly. “At that pace, they’ll be winded halfway up.”
“They’re enjoying this,” she said, smiling a little.
“How about you?”
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” He set the water jugs down with a thunk. “You’re kind of quiet.”
“I’m all right. I just need to get my land legs back.”
He’d given her a motion sickness patch, but they didn’t work for everyone. “How’s your stomach?”
“No problem at all.” To prove it, she gave him a big thumbs-up. “Go on now. Be with your sons. This is the last thing on the SOS list.”
Not quite. But the last item—Marry Carly—had to wait until he met her father. If Ryan was going to live Carly’s way, he wanted to start off on the right foot. Leaving her on the dock bothered him, but he needed to set up the campsite. “Are you sure you’re okay here?”
“Positive.”
Eric’s voice shot down from the middle of the staircase. “Hey, Dad. You better hurry. The last one up the stairs is the loser!”
Looking up at Eric, Carly shaded her eyes with her hand in a salute of sorts. “Y’all have come a long way.”
The “y’all” told him she was tense, maybe as concerned as he was for their future. If she married him, she’d be leaving her home and family. There was always Skype and air travel, but it wasn’t the same as sharing a meal now and then, or taking a loved one to a doctor’s appointment. In one of life’s ironies, joining his family would take away her own. He wanted her to know he understood. “You’ve made a huge difference here, Carly Jo.”
She tipped her face up to his. “You’ve never called me that.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” A first kiss . . . a first date. And for Carly, a first night with her husband. He loved her for her goodness and strength, even her faith, and he wanted her to know. Maybe he’d kiss her, just a peck. But he didn’t want a peck. He wanted the kiss to be special. For that, he was willing to wait.
Together With You Page 24