by BETH KERY
“It’ll be fantastic,” he interrupted. He took the platter from her hands, set it on the counter and proceeded to kiss her even more fervently than he had upon his return home. When they finally broke apart, he said, “It’s an awesome surprise. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, flushed with happiness.
He nipped quickly at her lips before he released her. “And guess what? I have a surprise for you, too. I’ll show it to you tomorrow, after work. I’m a little worried you won’t like it, but...well, we’ll see I guess.”
No matter how much she prodded him, he wouldn’t give her a hint as to the nature of his surprise. After dinner, they made love. Faith was drifting contentedly into sleep, surrounded by Ryan’s arms, when his cell phone started to ring on the bedside table.
She sat up drowsily when he moved, turning over on her side to face him. It was a little late for someone to be calling. Through heavy eyelids, she watched him answer.
“Hello?”
His brow furrowed as he listened.
“Oh...hi,” he said after a moment. He gave Faith a flickering glance and sat up straighter in bed. She sensed his tension. Her nerves prickled into alertness when she distantly heard a female’s voice resounding from the receiver. Whoever it was, she sounded upset.
“I don’t know. I don’t think that’d be a very good idea,” Ryan said cautiously. This time, Faith was sure of it. His glance at her was furtive. Wary.
It suddenly felt as if lead had replaced her insides when he suddenly stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, the phone still pressed to his ear.
Faith just lay there, trying to sort out why the phone call had upset her so much. She realized it was because she’d been in this position before. She’d been with Jesse a few times—maybe more times than she cared to remember—when he’d gotten a phone call and suddenly walked out of the room. It wasn’t until that moment, that very moment, that Faith realized those awkward phone calls had probably been from other women.
His lovers.
The realization had just never hit her until now. She’d found out about Jesse’s infidelities while he’d still been overseas. He’d died soon afterward. She’d never had any reason to put two and two together and resolve puzzling little moments like that from her previous marriage.
Feeling cold and heavy, Faith turned over and curled up beneath the covers. When Ryan came back to bed later, she pretended to be sleeping.
* * *
By the next afternoon her glacial insides had thawed out quite a bit. Her busy day at her office had gone a long way to bringing her around to her senses. That phone call last night might have been anything—an old school friend, an old girlfriend, even his new female employee, for all she knew. By the time Ryan walked through her office front door to pick her up, she’d recalled what Brigit had told her.
Try to trust in Ryan unless you see some clear reason why you shouldn’t.
He certainly had done nothing offensive, she reminded herself. She became so disgusted with her paranoia that she vowed to herself not to even ask him about the strange phone call.
When he came to her office to pick her up at around five-thirty that evening, he seemed preoccupied.
“Are you all right?” she asked him when they got in the car and he pulled out of the parking lot. “You seem sort of...worried or something.”
“No, no I’m fine. Well, maybe a little concerned. But it’ll be okay,” he seemed to say to himself as much as to her. “If you don’t like it, it’s no big deal. You’re not under any obligation to—”
“Ryan, what in the world are you talking about?” she interrupted, starting to get worried now herself.
“You’ll see,” he said, giving her a smile of reassurance and grabbing her hand.
“Are we going to visit Brigit?” she asked a while later when he drove into Harbor Town and turned right onto Sycamore Avenue. “Is Mari in town or something?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Well, what th...” She paused when he slowed down the car, staring out the window in bewilderment when he pulled into the drive of the house she recognized as being the large, handsome one that had once been the Itani summer home. A woman wearing a beige-colored suit walked down the front steps as if to greet them. Faith gaped, aghast, when she saw that the for sale sign that had conspicuously been displayed when they’d passed weeks ago was missing.
“Ryan,” she began numbly. “You didn’t...we’re not...”
“I put down a small fee to hold this house until you saw it,” he said quietly. “I’d like to buy it, Faith. For us.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What? Why?” Faith asked, utterly floored.
He took her hand. “It’s a beautiful house. I don’t know when it’ll come up for sale again, if ever.” Ryan scanned her expression, looking anxious.
Faith’s dazed shock was fractured slightly when she saw movement near Ryan’s window. He glanced around.
“That’s Mrs. Reynolds, the real estate agent. Why don’t you just take a look at the house? You don’t have to say yes. It’s not like I put down a full down payment or anything, I just asked her to put it on hold for us until the weekend.”
Faith managed to shake her head and mutter a passable greeting to a smiling Mrs. Reynolds. Her numbness fractured slightly when she entered the beautiful home and saw the gleaming hardwood floors, the spacious rooms, the luxurious kitchen, the wonderful detailing and craftsmanship that had gone into the building of the house. She’d regained the power of speech by the time they entered the dining room with the lovely built-in china cabinet and elegant chandelier.
“This was your family’s summer home?” she asked Ryan in weak disbelief. She knew that Ryan’s father was a top executive for a car company in Detroit, but she’d never really thought before about how affluent Ryan’s life must have been growing up.
“Yeah, but I don’t remember ever eating in this dining room once. We always ate on the back terrace or in the kitchen during the summertime,” he said, smiling in memory. She pictured it, Mari and Ryan—both of them suntanned and full of the buoyancy of youth—sitting on the shaded back terrace with the lovely climbing hydrangea in full bloom, regaling their parents with stories of their day’s adventures. Suddenly the image altered and she saw Ryan and she sitting at the same patio table, listening patiently to their dark-haired child’s excited retelling of their day.
They were touring one of the large, well-proportioned bedroom suites, which was filled with golden evening sunlight when Ryan suddenly asked Mrs. Reynolds if they could have some privacy. The real estate agent gave them a knowing glance, assured them she’d be out on the front porch, and told them to take their time.
“I hope I didn’t upset you,” Ryan said quietly, studying her from across the large room.
“You didn’t upset me! But I can’t figure out what you were thinking,” she exclaimed, a large measure of her incredulity sweeping over her again now that they were alone.
“You don’t like the house?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing. It’s perfect. I’ve never even considered living in a house like this. I grew up in this area. I know what a house like this so close to the beach must cost.”
“I can afford it.”
She stared at him, mute.
“Mari and I both received large trusts from our parents’ estate. I spent my entire adult life in the service. The military provided me with almost everything I needed. I didn’t have to spend as much as most people, so I was able to save a lot of money. Invest.”
Her mouth had gone dry. “But, Ryan, that’s your money.”
“It’s ours,” he said firmly, stepping toward her. His face looked gilded and solemn in the luminescent, golden light. “We’re married, F
aith.”
Unexpectedly the topic of their future had come up again. She hadn’t prepared for it. She didn’t know what to say.
Ryan touched her shoulder. She looked up at him helplessly.
“I know when I first brought up the topic of marriage, I said we could divorce after the baby is born. I’ll still do whatever you want in that regard, Faith. But you must know by now that isn’t what I want. I’d like us to remain as a family.” He touched her cheek. “I’d like that more than anything. But no matter what you decide about the house, I’m still considering buying it as an investment property.” He glanced around the sunny room. “It hurt to give up this house before. I’d like to keep it in the family.”
Utterly caught in his solemn-eyed stare, she jumped slightly when his cell phone began to ring. He muttered under his breath and reached into his pocket to get it. He scowled when he saw the number, tapped a button and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Faith asked bemusedly.
“No,” he said. He reached for her hand. “Did I happen to mention this was my bedroom, growing up?”
“It was?” Faith asked, glancing around for a fresh take on the room.
“Yeah. Come on. Let me show you the master bedroom. I have some ideas for renovation in there that’d make it incredible...”
* * *
“What are you thinking?” Ryan asked her later on the drive back to Holland.
Faith bit at her bottom lip anxiously. The idea of moving into that gorgeous home with Ryan, of raising their child there, was like being told an amazing dream could come true. But in order for them to step so firmly into the future, didn’t they need to confirm their feelings for one another? Was it really enough for Ryan to choose a future based solely on his love for family and his child?
Wasn’t love and partnership important, as well?
She realized that Ryan was patiently awaiting her answer.
“I think it was incredibly generous of you to make this offer, Ryan. The house is fantastic. And you’re right...a house like that doesn’t go up on the market frequently in Harbor Town. I can understand why you’d want to own it again. They tend to be kept in families for generations.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“I loved it,” she said, looking at him as he drove. “Do you think I could have a little time to think over the idea of us moving there together, though?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” Faith said, her heart filled with the strangest, most potent combination of dread and hope at once.
The next afternoon she retired to her office after her last patient and sank into her office chair. She was surprised she’d gotten any work done, she’d been so preoccupied with making the decision about the house. Of course the house was only at the surface of the core of the dilemma. Ryan hadn’t probably meant to do it, but by showing her that home last night, he’d brought the entire issue of their arranged marriage to a head.
In order to make such a game-altering decision, she knew she had no choice but to put all her cards on the table and hope that Ryan did the same.
She was going to have to bite the bullet and tell Ryan that she’d fallen in love with him. How else was it possible for him to make an informed choice about his future? How else was it conceivable for her? She was going to have to march home and tell him the truth.
When she saw his reaction to the fact that she loved him, body and soul, she’d have her answer as to how to proceed.
* * *
Ryan was down in the workshop assembling one of the many units of the bookshelf when he heard knocking at the front door. Had Faith forgotten her key? He glanced around hastily for his shirt, but didn’t see where he’d tossed it when he’d whipped it off earlier. The air-conditioning didn’t work very well here in the basement, and he’d been working up a sweat.
“Coming,” he shouted as he lunged up the stairs, two at a time. “Did you forget your—”
He paused in midsentence as he flung open the front door when he saw Jesse’s old girlfriend, Melanie Shane, standing on the front stoop.
* * *
“I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to come here,” Ryan said coolly a minute after he’d let Melanie inside. They stood in the living room, exchanging tense words.
A tear leaked down Melanie’s face. She’d always been a good-looking woman, but her appearance had altered since Ryan had last seen her while they were both still stationed in Afghanistan. After Jesse had died, she’d started to lose weight. She’d lost even more since Ryan had left the service. Weight loss agreed with Melanie, making her voluptuous curves more streamlined and her blue eyes larger and even more haunted in appearance than they’d been when Ryan had last seen her.
“I had to come,” she said, her usually cigarette-roughed, tough-girl voice trembling with emotion. “You’re the only person I could talk to, Ryan. You were Jesse’s good friend. The only one who knew how close Jesse and I were. I mean...I know you didn’t entirely approve of Jesse’s and my relationship, but you’re the only one who could understand what his death meant to me. I’ve left the Air Force,” she said starkly after a pause.
“You did?”
She nodded and sniffed. Ryan sighed and walked across the room to get her some tissues.
“Look, Melanie, I’ve got nothing against you, but—”
“Don’t give me that line, Ryan.” Her jaw tilted up defiantly. “I know you always looked down on my and Jesse’s relationship. I suppose you thought even less of me because of that night we celebrated Shaunessy’s birthday.”
Ryan didn’t reply. He just stuck out the box of Kleenex tissues for Melanie. If she wanted to rehash the night she’d gotten drunk at Mike Shaunessy’s party and come on to Ryan because Jesse had been flirting heavily with a nurse from the hospital, she was going to have to do it with someone else. It wasn’t as if he hated Melanie. He actually felt sorry for her, and he had a good idea of why she was here...
...why she was feeling so miserable in regard to Jesse’s death.
But there was nothing he could do for her. He couldn’t offer Melanie the peace—or the solace—for which she longed.
“Like I’ve been telling you when you’ve called the past couple times, there’s nothing for us to discuss, Melanie. I want you to go. This is Faith’s home. You know that. You shouldn’t be here. It’s disrespectful.”
Melanie’s eyes flashed with anger at that. Her gaze landed on a photo on the corner table of Faith holding a tiny version of Topsy up to her cheek.
“So that’s the paragon of virtue herself,” Melanie said scathingly. She glanced around the house as if seeing it for the first time. Her gaze landed on Ryan. She gave him a thoroughly amused feminine appraisal, her eyes lowering over his naked torso. “I can’t believe you married Jesse’s widow. Isn’t that a little...sick?”
“Get out,” Ryan said quietly.
He’d been hoping to get rid of Melanie politely, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. Melanie could be all right at times, but she also could get herself worked up into a real state. Jesse had used to joke that he didn’t know whether to dread or adore Melanie’s temper tantrums, because they were hell to endure, but heaven to make up from.
“So you really envied Jesse his sappy, sweet little animal-loving wife. Funny,” Melanie said, stepping closer to him, her voice going husky, “I would have pegged you above all men for needing a strong, hot-blooded female.”
Ryan halted her attempt to press against him by grabbing her elbows.
“Cut it out, Melanie. What are you trying to prove by acting so stupid?” he asked, his patience running thin. “It’s not going to get you anywhere here with me. No more than it ever did,” he seethed.
As if his angry words had popp
ed a cap off a geyser, she sobbed, her entire body heaving with uncontrollable emotion.
“Oh, God, Ryan, I know you know the truth. I know you know the real reason I’m here. I can’t stand it anymore. You’re the only one who knew how badly Jesse and I had been fighting before we got that emergency call about Langley’s plane going down in the Kunar. You’re the only one who knows the truth. I killed Jesse and the others.”
Ryan ground his teeth together as she shook with misery. Here it was. Melanie had been piloting the chopper that had gone down on the rescue mission. He exhaled, wishing like hell Melanie had chosen another time and another place to have her little mental breakdown.
Still...she was a soldier in arms and more importantly, another pilot. What she was experiencing right now was every pilot’s worst nightmare. He couldn’t help but feel compassion for her.
“You didn’t kill Jesse or anyone. It was an accident, pure and simple. You were down low, on the lookout for Langley, and the chopper hit a power line. You know as well as I do other choppers have run into similar problems with those low lines. They’re a menace.”
“But if Jesse and I hadn’t been arguing before, maybe I would have been less distracted and more alert. Maybe—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ryan repeated, tightening his hold on her upper arms. She was near hysteria. Her guilt must have been building up in her for a while now. “I know a pilot feels total responsibility for their passengers and mission, but that’s not the same as saying that you killed someone. It was an accident. Those wires are uncharted and damn near invisible outside of twenty feet. There was nothing you could have done,” he said, shaking her slightly, trying to break through her misery.