Ruby's Letters

by Maggie Van Well

  Now that she was alone, Emma sat in her living room and let the tears flow as she worked on Nicole’s Halloween costume. Once they started, sobs shook her body, making it hard for her to breathe at times.

  So this is what a broken heart feels like. This is what hopelessness is like. Not fun at all.

  She had to get all the hurt and sorrow out now. Otherwise, she’d never be able to get through work tomorrow. Just one day, and then she’d have the whole weekend to stay in bed and cry.

  With a deep sigh, she put away her sewing kit and went into her office. The time had come to put her heartache aside and find out what the mystery was. Once seated, she reached for the folder holding photocopies of the letters. The originals sat in the bottom drawer of her desk, untouched and in their envelopes since the last time she’d read them. One day she would give them back to Betsy, but for now, knowing they were safe in her home somehow brought her comfort.

  After an hour, Emma still held the first copy in her hand, having barely gotten past the salutation. It was no use. She couldn’t read about three women who had found their soul mates and hopefully lived happily ever after, when her own soul mate had let her walk away.

  For now, she’d just give up and go to bed, praying tomorrow would bring some happy news.

  ***

  The job site seemed so empty without Ryan.

  Emma walked from room to room, remembering. The first time she’d met him in the kitchen. They’d had their first of many debates in the front of the house. She remembered how she felt when they were on the staircase. And of course, the day he’d so caringly massaged her head until her migraine went away.

  She had just made it up to the fourth floor when she heard whispering. Heading toward the back bedroom, she paused in the doorway.

  “Oh, yeah, lather it up, baby,” Bart said as he looked through a pair of binoculars. Carlos stood beside him, hopping from foot to foot.

  “Ay, Bart, give me the damn glasses.”

  “What on earth are you doing?” Emma scolded.

  Bart didn’t even flinch. “Watching a hot chick shower.”

  “Emma, he is no’ sharing. Tell him to let me have the peek.”

  Walking over to them, Emma glanced out the window. She snatched the binoculars out of Bart’s hands.

  “Hey! She was just getting down to the good stuff.”

  “Boss Lady, it is my go!”

  Emma peered through the binoculars, ignoring them both. “The corner apartment on the third floor?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. What’s she doing?” Bart tried to grab the binoculars.

  “He is washing his goodies.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she handed them back to him. “And apparently having a good time of it, too.”

  “What!” Bart looked again. A few seconds later, the color drained from his face as he clutched the binoculars to his chest. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

  Carlos collapsed to the floor laughing.

  Emma fisted her hands on her hips. “Honestly, how could you not tell? Didn’t you notice the lack of breasts?”

  “Hey! Not all women are blessed like you, and God knows I’m not picky.”

  “But he has hair on his chest.”

  “I figured she was dirty. She is in the shower, ya know.” He paced the room, searching for something.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Something to gouge my eyes out with.” He picked up a flathead screwdriver, took a deep breath, and aimed a blow at his eye. Emma shrieked and ran over to him, only to watch the screwdriver shoot out the other side of his fist and fall to the floor.

  Bart laughed. “Come on, Emma, did you really think I’d do it?”

  She swatted the back of his head. “Who knows how far you’d go to get a laugh?”

  He picked up the screwdriver and twirled it between his fingers. “You’re so easy.”

  “Don’t you two have work to do?”

  Grumbling about how boss ladies shouldn’t ruin a perfectly good coffee break, they left the room.

  “Coffee break? Sheesh, at eight in the morning?”

  Emma took the opportunity to check the progress on the fireplace. Originally, this would’ve been the servant’s floor. The fireplaces were nowhere near as grand or decorative as in the parlors and master bedroom.

  She studied the firebox, but froze when she heard a noise. Jerking around, she scanned the room. It was empty, but the sound was clear.

  A woman weeping.

  Emma’s chest grew heavy. “Please believe me, I’m trying.” She waited, but nothing happened. No peaceful feeling, no gentle touch to the face. She was letting the Lady in the Shawl down. “I’m so sorry.”

  What a lovely day this was turning out to be, she thought sadly as she left the room. The trouble was she didn’t know what to do with herself. The men all had their jobs for the day. She could offer to help, but she’d just get in the way. Maybe Mike could give her something to do. She could use a dose of his optimism.

  When she entered the front bedroom on the second floor, she found it empty. That’s odd. Mike was usually the first man on the job and worked until lunchtime.

  Heading for the back bedroom, she met up with Bart and Carlos, who were mixing mortar. “Have either of you seen Mike this morning?”

  Carlos paused in his task. “He is no’ here?”

  “No, and he hasn’t called either.” Emma bit her lip and checked her watch again.

  For once, Bart put the comedy on hold. “That’s not like him. Maybe you should call his house?”

  Yes, she should, but she was hesitant. She didn’t want to alarm Yolanda, but what choice did she have?

  Just as she made the decision to call, her cell rang.

  “Hi, Emma. It’s Mike. I’m sorry, I forgot the time.”

  “Are you okay?” Relief flashed through her.

  “Yes, I’m wonderful. Yolanda just gave birth to a girl.”

  Emma slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from shrieking. Once she calmed, she was able to say, “Oh, that’s wonderful news. Congratulations.”

  After her conversation with Mike, she conveyed the glorious news to her men. Finally, something to smile about.

  ***

  “Oh my, she’s so beautiful.” Emma cradled Mike and Yolanda’s baby girl, Wendy, in her arms. She smiled softly when the tiny hand gripped her index finger and held on tight. “And strong, too!”

  With the same stupid grin he’d had on his face since Emma walked into the hospital room twenty minutes ago, Mike nodded and gently took the baby from her arms. “She sure is.”

  “Mike, for goodness’ sake,” Yolanda scolded. “You can have her any time. You have to let people hold her for more than five minutes.”

  Chuckling, Emma gathered up her jacket and newly-bought purse. “It’s okay. I have to get home anyway. Jared is watching Nicole, and he has a date he needs to get ready for.”

  Yolanda frowned. “Do men get ready for dates?”

  Emma shrugged. “Apparently.” Leaning over, she hugged her and whispered. “You make sure he takes a few days off so he can help you with the baby, okay?”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Mike asked, his eyes narrowed.

  “Never you mind,” Yolanda said with a wave of her hand.

  “Women, always conspiring. Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

  Emma froze. Her stomach twisted into a pretzel. Oh God, Ryan’s here? She’d hoped that since she left work early to visit Yolanda and the baby, she’d avoid running into him.

  Apparently, he’d had the same idea.

  With as much nonchalance as she could muster, she swallowed hard before she turned toward him. She offered a smile but avoided making eye contact. “I better get going. God bless you and your little girl.”

  A fast hug for Mike and she left the room, trying not to inhale Ryan’s spicy male scent. She tried. Really she did, but she couldn’t resist taking just one quick whiff. And then the heaviness settled in
her chest. His smell was almost as familiar to her as Nicole’s. His fragrance stayed with her as she hurried down the hallway.

  Okay, only a few more feet to the elevator and then you’ll be safe. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone. She pushed the button and waited. And waited and waited and waited.

  Where was the damn elevator? All she wanted to do was get out of the hospital, get into her car, and have a good cry on the drive home. Was that so much to ask?

  Elevators must read minds. As soon as she was done with her inner tirade, the doors slid quietly open.

  Thank you! She stepped onto the lift, almost home free.

  “Emma.”

  Instinctively she pushed the button that held the doors open. When she looked up to see who had called her name, she gulped.

  Damn her instincts anyway.

  “Yes?” She had hoped she could make her voice sound detached. Instead, it came out as a breathless whine.

  Ryan just stood there, his hands buried in his back pockets, staring at her. His smoldering look made her knees shake. God, the man was sexy, with his hair falling over one eye, and covering his shirt collar. He so aroused her that she found herself unconsciously caressing the elevator hold button.

  “Ryan, are you going to say something or just stand there?”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  His voice was raspy and slightly higher pitched than normal, but to her it sounded like the most beautiful music.

  Now it was her turn to just stare. Her pounding heart made her speechless.

  Ryan cleared his throat. “I don’t know what the future holds. And I don’t know if we’ll have our happily ever after, but I’m willing to jump in with both feet, if you are.”

  Could she do that? She knew from what little she could get out of Mike that Tag was upset about their breakup. Could she put Ryan in the position of ruining their friendship? Could she deal with constantly wondering whether Ryan would give in to his fears and leave her? He’d broken her heart so many times because of them—could she simply forget all that with just one simple declaration of love?

  He stood there, waiting. All she had to do was push the close button and he would get the message loud and clear. She wouldn’t have to say a word.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she jumped in…with both feet.

  “Are you going to join me or not? My thumb is getting numb holding these doors open.”

  Hesitantly, he stepped onto the elevator. She smiled at him. The tension in his face melted, replaced with such passion and adoration, she gasped.

  For the first time she saw the real Ryan, the man who had been trapped beneath all that fear he’d wrapped himself in.

  He looked younger, even more beautiful.

  Ryan slapped the close button and pulled her into his arms…into a sensual kiss. He took his time and explored her lips. Brushing against them, he teased and nibbled. It was deep, it was toe curling. Ryan gave himself to her as if he’d always been hers for the taking.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered as he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her forehead.

  Emma giggled. “I’m so glad. Because it so sucked when I thought you didn’t.”

  Her eyes focused on his sexy throat. She brushed her lips against it, because she could. He was hers. She could do a lot of things now. Sucking gently on his sensitive skin, she roamed her hands over his rock-hard chest.

  He groaned deep in his throat. “Em, have mercy. You have to stop.”

  She nipped at his lower lip. “Why? You’re mine. You belong to me.”

  He smiled that heart-pounding sexy smile and said in a surprisingly accurate Cuban accent, “Because if you don’t, you’ll make my dick cry.”

  She burst out laughing. “You bet your ass I will.”

  Someone cleared their throat and pulled Emma’s mind away from the intensity in Ryan’s eyes, and back to the real world. She was chagrined to realize the elevator doors had opened. The entire hospital reception area stared at them.

  Smiling sheepishly, Emma took Ryan’s hand and led him into the lobby. They walked toward the exit like two newlyweds headed for their wedding bed.

  Then Ryan froze. She tore her eyes from him and followed his gaze. She felt the blood drain from her face as her stomach clenched.

  Tag stood in front of the gift shop staring at them, a Congratulations on your Baby Girl balloon in one hand and a box of chocolate cigars in the other.

  “Tag.”

  Ryan’s voice seemed to snap him out of whatever state he was in. Without a word, he walked away. Ryan stiffened.

  “You should go after him,” she said, placing her hands against his chest.

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to apologize for falling in love with you. He needs to grow up and realize he can’t always get what he wants.”

  Emma’s heart hurt from the look on his face. “I don’t want to come between you two.”

  He propelled her toward the exit. “It’s not you who’s doing this. I refuse to be miserable for him. If he were a real friend he’d be happy I finally found someone.”

  “He’s hurting right now.”

  “No, he’s pouting.”

  She pulled her jacket tightly around her as they walked outside. “But Ryan—”

  He stopped and grabbed her upper arms. “Listen to me. My only other option is to let you go and hope he comes around. I can’t do that, Em. You not only make my life bearable again, you give me courage. You make me want to get up every morning and hopefully, one day, look forward to going to bed every night.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. His words touched the very deepest part of her. “I love you so much. Whatever happens, we’ll go through it together.”

  He hugged her, his body so warm against hers. “I knew I could count on you.”

  Pulling away from his hug, she kissed him softly. “Would you like to come over for dinner? I’m making beef quesadillas tonight.”

  “Yeah, that sounds great.” They walked to her car.

  “Maybe after dinner we can go over those letters again and…” How far dare she push him?

  He ran a gentle hand down her cheek. “You want to talk to Nicole about us?”

  Relief washed over her like water poured from a bucket. “Yes. I don’t like keeping stuff from her.”

  “Are you sure it’s not too soon? Will she be okay with it?”

  Emma frowned and stared at her reflection in the side window of her car. Is it too soon? Maybe we should wait a little while, just to see how things work out. Suddenly, her reflection blurred and in its place emerged a vision of Nicole hugging Ryan as he tucked her into bed.

  Her frown turned into a smile. She was beginning to like the new prophetic Emma. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  LATER THAT EVENING as Emma prepared dinner, Ryan and Nicole ran around the backyard blowing bubbles.

  An hour earlier, when she arrived home, she’d showered and changed, choosing a pretty floral halter-top sundress instead of her usual T-shirt and jeans. She’d even felt the urge to apply some mascara and lipstick. She wanted to feel pretty, feminine.

  Who knew falling in love and having that love returned would have that effect on her?

  When Ryan had shown up twenty minutes ago, she could tell he’d had the same reaction. Freshly showered and shaved, he’d tied his hair in its usual ponytail, and had chosen a moss-colored polo shirt that made his eyes appear so green they put emeralds to shame.

  She paused in her chopping and glanced out the window over the sink, smiling as Ryan spun in a slow circle with Nicole’s giant bubble maker in his hand. He really would make a good step-father. She knew Jared would agree.

  A few minutes later, her two favorite people in the world walked in the back door, Nicole chatting away as usual.

  “…so I told Bobby he shouldn’t do that to someone, how would he like it if someone pushed him out of the wa
y without saying excuse me and he said he would just push them down if they tried. Well, that got the teacher’s attention, and she made Bobby sit in the timeout corner for the rest of recess.”

  “Nicole, would you set the table for Mommy?”

  “Okay,” she said, and then turned to Ryan. “We’ll finish this discussion later.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I sure hope so. I want to hear how this ends.”

  Emma smiled as she turned back to her task. These two were going to be the best of friends.

  Ryan came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. Her stomach flipped. God, if this man ever found out what he did to her, she’d never hear the end of it.

  “Have I told you I’m in love with her too?” Ryan snatched a cube of red pepper.

  Emma chuckled. “No, but I kind of figured that one out on my own.”

  “Mommy, the table is set.” Nicole called from the dining room. “Can I go play with Jillian until dinner’s ready?”

  Emma checked her watch. She still had a lot of preparation to do, but she’d have Ryan there to help her. “Okay, but be home in an hour.”

  The front door slammed, and a few minutes later, shrieks of girlish glee floated over from the next yard.

  “She sure knows how to have fun, doesn’t she?” Ryan said.

  Emma chuckled. “Ah, to be young again.”

  Placing his hands on her waist, Ryan pulled her against his chest and brushed his lower lip up and down her ear. She shivered. “Can I help you with something?”

  Emma leaned her head back. God, the man had barely touched her and already she felt like she was melting into a smoldering puddle onto the floor. The scent of his cologne and that melted-chocolate voice pushed her to the edge of a sensory overload. “You could—you could slice the black olives.”

  With his lips nibbling at her neck, he slowly ran his hand from her shoulder down her arm to the open can on the counter, brushing over her breast along the way. “You mean these olives?”

  Her heart pounded so loud she almost missed his question. “Yes.”