by Marta Perry
Ryan’s hand brushed hers. “I don’t know why Mandy was born deaf. I don’t know the why of a lot of bad things, but that doesn’t mean God’s to blame.”
She fought to hold the words back, but they spilled out anyway. “I asked Him for help when I was desperate. Over and over again. He never answered.” She shook her head angrily, cutting off any answer he might make. “Forget it. You don’t have answers. No one does. We’d better get inside before the service starts.”
She whirled toward the door, eager to get away from Ryan and that embarrassing moment of self-revelation. Ryan reached around her to grasp the handle. He held it for a moment, so that she was forced to wait.
“You’re probably right,” he said slowly. “I don’t have answers. But I know what my mother would say to that question. She’d say that other people are God’s hands on earth.”
He yanked the door open and ushered her through before she could think of a response.
Laura still hadn’t found an answer to the questions Ryan’s comment had raised as she followed his car down a country road after the service. She tried to stow the thoughts away for later consideration. She had more pressing things on her mind now.
Ryan had seemed surprised when she’d accepted his invitation to Nolie and Gabe’s farm after church. As he’d told her, the Flanagan family got together en masse every Sunday for dinner, and when the weather was nice, they went to the farm.
She wasn’t really interested in the farm or in the puppies Ryan had promised to show Mandy. What she wanted was to corner Ryan long enough to find out what was happening with the investigation.
She looked in the rearview mirror. Mandy sat quietly, absorbed in coloring the papers she’d brought from church school. At the moment she was carefully filling in purple flowers around an image of Jesus and the children, her little face intent.
She’d done that at Mandy’s age, she remembered, saving all the pictures and papers so that she could play Sunday school at home with her dolls. Something seemed to twist in her stomach. This was the first time Mandy had been to Sunday school. She’d evaded the subject of her daughter’s spiritual development, letting her own feelings interfere.
She could take Mandy back to Grace Church, of course. But doing so meant confronting her own feelings, and she didn’t think she was ready to do that.
Why, God? Why haven’t You helped me? The familiar refrain began in her mind, but it was interrupted this time by Ryan’s words. My mother would say…that other people are God’s hands on earth.
The words pressed against her, demanding attention. She shook her head, as if to shake them away.
Mandy looked up at the movement, her dark-brown eyes reflected in the mirror. Laura smiled at her.
“We’re almost there. Look, Ryan is turning in.” Even when she couldn’t sign, she talked to Mandy, hoping some understanding came through.
Mandy leaned forward to look out the window, gazing entranced at the colorful sign on the gatepost. Nolie’s Ark, it said, and a variety of smiling animals poked their heads out of the painted ark.
Laura pulled up next to Ryan’s car under the branches of an oak tree that was just leafing out. As she slid from the car, Ryan was already there, helping Mandy out of the back seat.
Mandy tugged at Ryan’s hand impatiently. “Dog,” she said carefully.
Ryan blinked, glancing at Laura. “I’ve never heard her talk before.”
“She doesn’t very often, but sometimes she tries. She’d started to talk before her hearing worsened, so that gave her a head start. It’s good for her to verbalize.” She ruffled Mandy’s curls. “Good talking, sweetheart.”
“Dogs it is,” Ryan said, and she thought his heartiness covered emotion he didn’t want to show. “I happen to know there are puppies in the barn.”
Laura glanced toward the picnic tables, where what seemed a horde of Flanagans already milled around, putting out food. “Shouldn’t we go and speak to your family first? I ought to help.”
He clasped Mandy’s hand, swinging it. “Helping can wait. We’ve got puppies to see first.”
Mandy grabbed her hand. “Puppies,” she said.
Hearing her daughter verbalize again overcame any compunction she might feel. “Right. Puppies.”
Ryan led them across the lawn toward a red wooden barn. “Relax. Everyone understands, and they don’t expect you to help. Just to enjoy.”
“They’re nice to include us.”
Nolie came out a screened door at the side of the white farmhouse just then, carrying a tray. Gabe immediately took it from her. He bent to drop a kiss on her cheek and a quick, gentle pat on her rounded stomach. Nolie glanced their way and waved.
Laura waved back, her throat tightening.
“Sickening, isn’t it?” Ryan grinned. “They’ve been married for nearly a year and they still act like newlyweds.”
“They’re obviously very happy.”
She thought of what Nolie had said about Gabe’s reaction to having a daughter. Had Jason ever been that happy about her pregnancy? He’d wanted a son. Maybe—
She cut that thought off ruthlessly. She would never let herself think that their lives might have been different if Mandy had been a boy. Or if Mandy had been born hearing.
Mandy was perfect. If Jason hadn’t been able to see that, it was his misfortune.
Mandy, running ahead of them, stopped, staring into the white-fenced paddock, her eyes huge and round. Ryan grinned, lifting her so that she could see over the fence a little better.
“Those are miniature horses, Mandy.” He glanced at Nolie. “Maybe you’d better translate. I don’t think my signing extends far enough for that.”
A gray donkey came to lean its head over the rail fence, looking at them inquiringly. Ryan patted its soft ears and guided Mandy’s hand to stroke them.
“His name is Toby. He likes boys and girls.” He ran his hand down the donkey’s back. “See the way there’s a cross in his fur? People say that’s because a donkey carried Jesus on Palm Sunday.”
Her throat clenched as she signed the words. Ryan’s words were another reminder of all that was missing in her daughter’s life. Obviously they couldn’t be around the Flanagan family without constant reminders of the faith they lived.
She cleared her throat. “Are you sure the mama dog isn’t going to mind our looking at her puppies?”
“No, Missy’s a sweet dog. She loves people. One of many strays Nolie has rescued. Missy was originally intended to be trained as a service dog, but she’s turned into a family pet instead.”
“That’s what Nolie does—trains service animals?”
Ryan pushed back the sliding door on the barn, nodding. “She trains the animals, and she also works with people who have disabilities. That’s how Gabe met her. He had to get a seizure alert dog after he was hurt in a fire.”
He said the words so matter-of-factly, but this had to be an emotional subject for Ryan. His brother and father had both suffered injuries on the job, but everyone said when it came to fighting fire, Ryan had no fear. She’d seen that for herself, and she didn’t begin to understand it.
“Hey, Missy.” A black-and-white border collie came to meet them, her plumed tail waving gently. “I brought someone to see your babies.”
There was a scrabble of feet on the rough-planked barn floor, and six black-and-white puppies romped toward them. Mandy squealed with delight and darted past Ryan.
“Puppies,” she said again, reaching out her arms toward them.
Laura’s throat went tight. “That’s the most she’s ever verbalized in such a short period of time.”
“She’s had a lot of stimulation today,” Ryan said, ruffling a puppy’s fur. “Maybe it’s good for her.”
There didn’t seem to be any criticism in his words—just a simple observation. It shouldn’t make her feel guilty, but it did.
“I just want to keep her safe.”
“I know.” He snapped his fingers to the dog. �
�Come on, Missy. “Let’s take your puppies out in the sunshine.”
The dog seemed to understand him. She ambled through the barn door and onto the grass, the puppies tumbling behind her. Mandy trotted along, beaming, and dropped to the grass, hauling the nearest puppy into her lap.
Laura opened her mouth to protest the probable grass stains on Mandy’s red-and-white dress, but closed it again. Her daughter’s happiness was too important to let a few grass stains get in the way.
Ryan carried what looked like a saddle blanket from the barn and spread it on the grass. “I’m not guaranteeing how clean this thing is, but have a seat if you’re willing to risk it.”
“It’s fine.” She sat down, the soft skirt she’d worn for church folding around her.
Ryan collapsed on the blanket next to her, smiling as one of the puppies climbed onto his lap. “Cute little things, aren’t they?” He tickled under its chin. “Nolie’s trying to find homes for them, you know. They’re about ready to leave their mama.”
“Oh, no. The last thing I need is a puppy to take care of.”
He plopped the puppy in her lap, and her hands curved around it instinctively.
“It’d make a good watch dog.”
She lifted her eyebrows, distracted by the puppy licking her fingers. “It’s the size of your hand. I don’t think it would provide much protection.”
“He’ll grow.” He ruffled the puppy’s fur, his fingers brushing hers. “He’s already big enough to make noise if he hears something unusual. That could be a good thing.”
“The lights are protection enough.”
Mandy tried to pick up two puppies at once and then, giggling, toppled toward Ryan. He caught her easily, his big hands gentle, and gave her a hug. They both looked at her, both smiling.
Laura’s heart lurched. Anyone looking at the three of them might see think they were seeing a happy family. It almost felt that way.
It shouldn’t. Something approaching panic brushed her heart. That was a dangerous thing to think, because she might actually start to believe it was possible.
Laura leaned on the paddock fence next to Siobhan later that afternoon, watching as Ryan led the donkey at a gentle walk with two giggling girls on its back. Mandy had changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt belonging to Ryan’s niece, Shawna, and somehow that act had made the two girls inseparable.
Ryan waved at her. “You’re next,” he said.
“I’m too big to ride a donkey. Thanks anyway.”
“That won’t be the end of it,” Siobhan said. “I’ve never seen anyone like Ryan for persuading people to do things they don’t want to do.”
“He’s not getting me on a donkey, no matter how persuasive he is.” Although Siobhan was probably right about Ryan’s skills—he’d talked Mandy onto the donkey in spite of her tendency to cling to his neck.
Siobhan smiled. “He’s so good with children. He should have a houseful of his own.”
She wasn’t going to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole. “I appreciate the effort he’s making with Mandy. She’s enjoying herself so much.”
Mandy looked like any little girl, enjoying a donkey ride with a friend. Her arms were around Shawna’s waist, and they wore identical grins.
Laura’s heart twisted. That was what she wanted for her child—that normalcy that others took for granted.
“She certainly got along very well in church school today,” Siobhan said. “Have you thought about putting her in pre-school a few hours a week? The one where our grandkids go is excellent.”
She wasn’t going to expose Mandy to the rough and tumble of pre-school, no matter how excellent.
“Not just now. She’s probably going to have her cochlear implant in the next month or so, and I’d like to get her through that first.”
“I understand. That’s a big enough thing to deal with now.” Siobhan’s hand closed warmly over hers. “I’m praying for her. And for you.”
Her throat tightened. There was only one response to that. “Thank you.”
Ryan led the donkey to the fence next to them. “Okay, girls, that’s it for you. It’s Laura’s turn to ride the donkey now.”
“Not a chance,” she said quickly. “I’m not dressed for riding.”
“Excuses, excuses.” He patted the donkey’s back.
“All you have to do is sit there.”
Siobhan laughed. “I’ll leave you to it. Come on, girls, let’s go get some lemonade and cookies.” She held out her hands, and the two girls scampered under the fence and grabbed them.
Mandy went off without a backward glance. She seemed to know instinctively that Siobhan was someone she could trust, and to understand her without the need for signing.
“Come on.” Ryan caught her hand. “I’ll lead the donkey, I promise.”
“Listen, just because you’re a big brave fireman doesn’t mean other people have your courage. I don’t want to ride him. It’s too far off the ground.”
Something flickered in Ryan’s eyes. “It doesn’t take courage to do something you’re not afraid of.”
For a moment she could only stare at him. “But—how could you not be afraid of a fire?” She relived, only too vividly, the terror she’d felt when she’d woken to the blare of the smoke alarm.
He shrugged, his gaze fixed on their hands, clasped atop the rough rail of the fence. “I don’t know. Adrenaline takes over, I guess. I’ve always been that way about any physical challenge—give me a cliff to climb or a roof to jump off, and I’m your man.”
Ryan was giving her a window into his soul that she suspected he didn’t open for many people.
“Is that a good thing?”
“I used to think so. Now, I’m not so sure.”
She’d thought she didn’t understand what made him tick. Now he was showing her. Trusting her with it.
“What changed that for you?” she asked carefully.
His fingers moved restlessly against hers. “You know my father had a heart attack on the job.”
She nodded. Had that been what made him realize his own mortality?
“You probably don’t know it was my fault.” His voice sounded even, but she could hear the pain in it. That pain grasped her heart and wouldn’t let go.
“How could it be? Ryan—”
“I was first in. I outran my support. Got trapped. My father was trying to get to me when he collapsed.”
She clasped his hand, immeasurably moved by his confiding in her, longing to help and not sure how to do it. “I’m sure he didn’t blame you.”
“I blamed myself. Maybe I shouldn’t be in a job where I can endanger other people.”
Saying the right thing seemed impossible. “Is that the real reason why you want to join the arson team?”
He shrugged. “At least I don’t put someone else in danger when I’m using my brains.” His smile flickered. “Not that North thinks I’m overly endowed in that department.”
“He looks like the kind of person who doesn’t think highly of anyone.” This seemed to be her opportunity to ask about the investigation, but she hesitated.
“North is chronically suspicious, that’s for sure. He even—”
He stopped, but she thought she knew what he’d been going to say.
“He’s suspicious of me. Is that what you mean?”
Ryan seemed to draw back, even though he didn’t move. “There’s no reason to suspect you,” he said.
A chill went down her spine at his careful choice of words. “But he does. Why on earth would he think that? Did he find something in the investigation that points to me?”
Ryan’s eyes met hers. “Don’t ask me that, Laura. I can’t talk to you about the investigation.”
There was a finality to his tone that shook her—a cool professionalism that seemed to turn him from her friend into someone else entirely. The man who’d confided in her was gone, replaced by someone she didn’t know.
“I see.” She pulled her hand away fro
m his.
“I’m sorry.” He had the grace to look miserable about it. “It’s my job.”
“I know.” She tried to muster a smile, but she couldn’t quite manage.
It was his job. She’d seen that single-minded determination in him before, when he’d disregarded her protests and snatched Mandy from her when he’d rescued them from the fire.
She’d learned more than she’d expected about Ryan today, but she wasn’t sure it was what she’d wanted to know. For all his friendliness and charm, all the caring he’d shown her and Mandy, Ryan would put his job before other people.
Before her.
Chapter Seven
He just plain wasn’t good at this personal relationship stuff, Ryan decided. He helped Jerry White unload the plastering supplies in front of Laura’s house a couple of nights after the Sunday picnic that had started so well and ended so badly.
“Good thing you showed up to lend a hand, buddy,” Jerry grumbled. “I was already up to my eyeballs without this extra job.”
“You’re just lucky anyone trusts you enough to do their plastering. If they knew you like I do—”
Jerry slammed the door of the panel truck and elbowed him. “So, is this woman the latest girlfriend?”
“Just an old friend. That’s all.” At least that’s what he intended. After the way they’d parted on Sunday, maybe even friendship wasn’t on Laura’s agenda.
What did Laura expect—that he’d destroy his chances at the job he wanted just to make sure she felt better? It wasn’t as if knowing what Garrett North was up to would actually allay her fears.
As far as he could tell, the man suspected anyone and everyone, including Laura. The only thing he knew for sure was that a bulldog like North wouldn’t give up until he found out who’d started that fire.
Nor would he. He headed for Laura’s front door in Jerry’s wake. That was his job, and he’d do it, no matter who got in the way.
Still, coming to help with the plastering was his way of trying to make peace with Laura. He wouldn’t give up on their friendship as easily as she seemed prepared to.