CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT WAS TRUE that he hated hospitals. He hated them so much he could hardly bring himself to walk into one. Something about the paint and the clinical smell took him right back to those months after his injury. As soon as he stepped through the door it came rushing back. The white light of the explosion, the pain and the sick empty feeling that came from knowing Finn wasn’t in the hospital with him. Normally he blocked it out, but not today. Today the memories were playing like a movie in his head. The pitch-black of the helicopter, the rattle and sway, the bouncing beam of light from the headlamp of the flight medic. And the pain. Unimaginable pain.
Hoping they discharged Lizzy fast, he coaxed two cups of coffee from a temperamental machine and took them back to the waiting room.
Emily was standing in front of the window, staring into space.
Shock, he thought. Shock and exhaustion.
“Here—” He handed her the coffee. Remembering the last time she’d keeled over, he put his own down on the table. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
She looked at him blankly, like someone emerging from a long coma, seeing the world for the first time. “It wasn’t your responsibility.”
He remembered the sharp kick of fear he’d felt when he’d heard about their white-knuckle flight across the bay to the hospital, about the sleepless night he’d had waiting for the wind to die down sufficiently for him to make the crossing to the mainland. His mind had conjured a dozen nightmare scenarios, all of which involved Emily coping alone with a steadily deteriorating Lizzy. By the time he’d arrived at the hospital he’d almost caused casualties in his haste to reach her bedside.
Only when he’d seen Lizzy, awake and improving, did his own feelings about hospitals resurrect themselves.
He picked up his coffee, noticing with a twinge of wry humor that his hands were shaking.
Jesus, he couldn’t even walk into a hospital without falling apart. He was meant to be supporting Emily, and he was in a worse state than she was.
What a hero.
Her silence was starting to disturb him. Retrieving his journalistic skills, he tried to think like her. Tried to get into her head. She’d be scared. Scared of losing another child. Of letting her down. “You’re doing a brilliant job, Emily. You’re taking good care of her.”
Still there was no reaction, and he wondered if she’d even heard him.
“You’re not going to lose her, Emily. She’s going to be just fine. Kids get sick fast, and then they recover fast. The same thing happened when Rachel was young. You don’t need to panic.”
But she didn’t seem to be panicking. She looked numb. Catatonic.
“It was Zach who called me.” He ignored the fact that he seemed to be having a conversation with himself, and finally she stirred.
“Why would he call you?”
He couldn’t believe she’d asked that question. “I guess he heard the rumor that you’d left my apartment wearing the same dress you’d worn to dinner and thought I might like to know.” If she’d picked up on the dig that she should have been the one to call him, there were no visible signs of it.
“He was brave. Please, thank him from me.”
“He’s a gifted pilot.”
She didn’t argue. “Does Brittany know that he’s back on the island yet?”
“I don’t know. I still haven’t told her. Who knows how long he’ll stay, and she isn’t here anyway, so why bring it up?” The last time he’d interfered with their relationship he’d made things worse. “Why the hell are we talking about Zach and Brittany? They’re both old enough to sort out their own relationship. The fact that they don’t is their business, not ours. Are you going to drink that coffee?”
She sipped mindlessly and pulled a face. “You put sugar in it?”
“You need the energy, and this stuff tastes disgusting with or without sugar. When did you last eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He was willing to bet she hadn’t slept, either. Looking at the dark shadows under her eyes, he decided she was too tired to be able to decide whether to move forward or backward.
She’d been going through torture, and she’d been going through it alone.
Anger and frustration simmered beneath his own layers of tension. “Hell, Emily, why didn’t you call me? We’re friends.”
Her gaze flickered to his and away again. “We are friends. And as a friend, I respect your boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” He lowered his voice. “You talk to me about boundaries after what we did in bed together the other night?”
“That’s different. This was a problem, and it wasn’t yours to deal with.”
She was the one who was different, and he had no idea why. Was it tiredness? The stress and anxiety of coping alone? Worry about Lizzy?
He decided the hospital was driving them both crazy, and the sooner he got them both home to Puffin Island, the better.
*
THEY KEPT LIZZY in the hospital for another twenty-four hours.
Despite Emily’s protestations, Ryan insisted on returning the following morning to drive them back to the island.
She’d suffered another sleepless night, but this time her concerns were for herself as well as Lizzy. How had she managed to fall in love? She didn’t understand how it had happened. All she knew was that she had to reverse the feeling fast. She had to fall out of love with him, and, more important, she had to help Lizzy fall out of love with him, too.
“So, the final verdict was a virus?” He slid behind the wheel. “Virus is a word doctors use when they don’t have a clue what’s going on.”
Exhausted, Emily fought the urge to rest her throbbing head against those wide shoulders.
“They don’t really know what it was, but it wasn’t meningitis, and she’s on the mend, so that’s all that matters.”
Now that the immediate panic about Lizzy had passed, she knew she had to think about the future. She’d woken up to the mistakes she’d made. Her mind was trying to make sense of it all, but the stress of the past few days caught up with her, and the smooth purr of the engine rocked her to sleep.
She woke as they drove off the ferry along with carloads of summer visitors.
John, the harbormaster, waved them over, and Ryan pulled up.
“She’s doing fine, John.”
“Good to know.” Needing to check for himself, John stepped forward and looked at Lizzy. The smile spread along his weathered face. “We missed you, pumpkin. Ryan has been keeping us updated. Wait there. I have something for you.” He vanished into his hut and emerged moments later holding a miniature version of the ferry, handmade and beautifully carved. “I’ve called her the Captain Lizzy. I made it in my workshop.”
“For me?” Lizzy reached for it, enchanted. “It’s like the Captain Hook. Does it float?”
“Should do. You’ll have to take it down to the beach and test it. Let me know.”
“Will you come?”
“To the beach?” John scratched his beard. “Maybe I will. Dora and I enjoy a walk on the sand. I appreciate the invitation.”
“Look.” Lizzy leaned forward to show Emily, and she examined the boat, marveling at the detail. There was a ramp that lifted and lowered and a little chain that fastened across the back.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, John.” She admired the craftsmanship, touched by the sentiment as much as the hours he’d obviously spent. She remembered how afraid of him she, Sky and Brittany had been.
As Ryan drove away, she mentioned it to him. “We used to be scared of him.”
“Plenty of folk are. It’s a trick he uses to stop people messing around near the ferry.”
“I thought Lizzy had driven him crazy asking questions.”
“John loves anyone who shows interest in the Captain Hook.” He eased the car along the crowded roads. “And you’re an honorary islander.”
“Because I’m staying in Brittany’s cottage?”
“Not just because of that. You’ve contributed to the community. Not only have you earned Hilda’s approval, but Summer Scoop’s business has doubled in the past few days. And all the islanders were worried about Lizzy. I couldn’t walk down the street without being accosted for information, so in the end I had Kirsti put out a tweet on the Ocean Club Twitter account. Hope you don’t mind.” He slowed for a group of tourists who were loaded down with beach bags and coolers. “It’s the silly season.”
“This is why the business has doubled. It’s the summer crowd.”
“Not true. You had some great ideas.”
“What’s it like on the island in winter?”
“Quiet. I love it, although obviously the weather can be brutal. It can also be fun. I’ll take you snowmobiling.”
He was making the assumption she’d still be here in the winter.
Realizing they were leaving the harbor, Emily reached for her purse. “Could you take me via the airfield? I need to pick up my car.”
“Jared drove it home for you yesterday.”
“Jared?”
“The guy who is dating my sister. The guy I’m trying not to punch.”
“But I’ve never even met him. Why would he help me? And where did he get the keys?”
Ryan glanced at her. “You left them in the car. I guess you had other things on your mind.”
“I—” She’d left them in the car? “That doesn’t explain why he’d help me, a stranger.”
“Apart from the fact he can’t keep his hands off my sister, he’s a decent guy. And as I said, you’re an honorary islander.” Ryan took the coast road, and Emily looked out of the window at the islands dotted around the bay.
An honorary islander.
A month ago she hadn’t been able to imagine living here. Now she couldn’t imagine leaving.
When she’d arrived on that first night, she would have turned around and left again had there been some way of getting across the water; but at some point leaving had ceased to be a priority. The charm of the island had sneaked up on her, like the slow merging of the seasons.
The contrast to the night of the storm was incredible. The rain had stopped, the sky had cleared and visibility was perfect. It was as if it had never happened.
When they reached Castaway Cottage, she stepped out of the car and felt the breeze on her face. The scent of salt and sea expunged the last memories of clinical sterility. Shell Cove lay in front of her, a perfect crescent of golden tones, and she wondered why she’d wasted all those summers keeping her back to the water.
She realized she didn’t feel trapped or scared, she felt free. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she’d come home.
Turning back to the car, she bumped into Ryan.
“Sorry—” He put his hands on her arms to steady her, and she stood for a few seconds, disoriented by his closeness and the terrifying depths of her feelings. Her eyes were level with the tanned skin at the base of his throat and the dark stubble that shaded his jaw.
Scooping up Lizzy, she carried her to the cottage and waited while Ryan unlocked the door.
“I should have asked you to stop at the harbor so we could pick some things up.”
“You won’t need anything.” He walked through to the kitchen, and she saw the table was heaped high with bags and parcels.
“What’s all this?”
“This,” Ryan said dryly, “is all courtesy of your neighbors. Welcome to Puffin Island, where everyone knows what you like to eat for dinner. And if you’re in trouble, they provide it.” There was humor in his eyes as he pulled open the fridge and stepped to one side, so that she could see the contents.
Emily gaped and Lizzy wriggled out of her arms.
“There’s so much food!”
“There is.” Emily felt weak. “Was this you? Did you do this?”
“It was everyone. The town council sent out an email to everyone and coordinated people’s contributions. They thought you wouldn’t want to be thinking of food for a few days while you settle back in.”
“The town council emailed?”
“That’s nothing. If you stay here much longer you’ll be expected to give them your phone number. Then you’ll get a call or a text in an emergency.”
Still looking at the food in disbelief, Emily shook her head. “What sort of emergency?”
“Well, let’s see—” he leaned back against the counter “—there was the time two years ago when the Ratners’ barn caught fire, and they needed as many people as possible to help. Then there was the time when the power went out last January, and they needed volunteers to check on the elderly and vulnerable. It’s a good way of communicating to a wide number of people in the shortest space of time.”
“I’m really touched.” She opened one of the bags and pulled out a doll and a pile of books for Lizzy. “That’s so thoughtful.” Tears thickened her throat, and she realized with a flash of horror that she was going to cry.
Tired, she thought. She was just tired, that was all.
“I need to get Lizzy to bed.” Forcing herself to keep moving, she carried Lizzy up to her bedroom and tucked her in.
“Will you open the window? I want to listen to the sea.”
Emily opened the window, realizing that she no longer shrank from the sound. “Better?”
“Can Ryan read me a story?”
“I think you need to sleep.”
“But could I have a story first?”
Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.
“It’s my turn to read to you.” She sat on the edge of the bed, picked a story and started to read. Lizzy was asleep by the end of the first page.
Emily stayed for a few minutes, staring down at tumbled blond hair and vulnerability.
She’d been almost the same age when she’d lost her sister.
She’d been alone with her feelings. There had been no one to comfort her. No one to protect her.
Reaching out, she stroked the curls away from Lizzy’s face and bent to kiss her.
Lizzy wasn’t alone, and she was going to do her best to protect her. A few weeks earlier the responsibility had almost sent her running. Not now. Now, the fierceness, the desire to protect came not from duty but from somewhere deep inside. A place she hadn’t accessed for a long time. And finally she knew what she had to do.
Ryan was in the kitchen with his back to her, staring out of the window to the garden. He turned when he heard her walk in. “The storm flattened some of the plants.”
“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” She looked at those broad shoulders, at his handsome face, at the man she loved. “Thank you for what you did. Coming to see us. Bringing us home. All this—” She glanced at the surfaces, covered in gifts and donations of food. “I’m grateful.”
“I didn’t do it for your gratitude.” His eyes darkened. “I missed you.”
Her heart bumped against her chest. “Ryan—we can’t do this—”
“I know that. You’re exhausted.”
“I don’t mean now. I mean ever. Whatever there was between us, it has to stop.”
There was a long, pulsing silence. “Because you don’t want a relationship?”
It was a fair question. She hadn’t thought anyone would break through the layers of protection she’d woven around herself, but Ryan Cooper had managed it.
“Because you don’t. And it isn’t fair to Lizzy.”
Those dark brows met in a frown. “What’s between us has nothing to do with Lizzy.”
“How can it have nothing to do with Lizzy? She’s part of my life, Ryan. She was asking for you just now. She wanted you to read to her.”
“You should have called me. I would have been happy to read to her.”
“This time.” Her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed sand. “She’s growing too attached to you. She asks for you all the time. Every other word is Ryan. In the hospital she was crying for you—”
A muscle flickered in his cheek. “You should have called me—”
“Why? You don’t want that level of attachment. She’s starting to expect things, and you don’t want anyone to expect things from you. You’ve told me that often enough.”
“So you’re going to tell her I won’t read her a story? Is that fair?”
The words goaded her temper. She thought back to the hospital, with Lizzy sick and missing him. “What’s not fair is you telling her you love her. Behaving as if she’s important in your life.”
“She’s a sweet kid, and—”
“Yes, she’s a sweet kid, but we both know you’re not interested in kids, Ryan, no matter how sweet they are. You’ve made that perfectly clear, and I respect that, but then you confuse everything by saying you love her!”
“You’re overreacting. She was sick. She needed reassurance and I gave it. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not simple. Thanks to you, it’s complicated! And she didn’t need lies! What happens when she’s well, Ryan? Have you thought about that?”
“We’ll handle that when she’s well.”
“I’ll be the one who has to handle it. I’ll be the one who will have to answer questions about where you are and why you don’t want to spend time with her. I’ll be the one who has to handle a child who feels miserable and let down, who has expectations that are never met.” Her voice rose. “We both know this relationship of ours is just for fun, but that isn’t how she sees it. What’s going to happen when you’ve had enough of teaching her knots and taking her to see the puffins? She’s a child. She doesn’t understand the complexity of adult relationships. Children need consistency. They need to know where they stand. Love can’t be given and then withdrawn. It doesn’t come and go like the tide. I appreciate you bringing us home. It was kind of you, but now it’s over.”
But instead of walking away, Ryan strode across the room and took her face in his hands. “And what about us?” His eyes demanded all the answers she wasn’t voicing. “You’ve talked a lot about Lizzy, but what about us?”
Dreams flitted into her head, and she pushed them brutally aside.
“There is no us.” She fought the temptation to slide her arms around his neck and bring her mouth to his. “I love living here. I never thought I’d feel this way about living on a small island surrounded by water, but I do. I know we can’t stay in this cottage forever, but whatever we do, I don’t want to leave the island. I want us to stay. I want to build a life here. I don’t want things to feel awkward between us.” She stared up at him, rocked by the emotion in his eyes.
“So, you’re ending this because of Lizzy. What about you?”
What about her? Despite having protected herself fiercely, she’d managed to fall in love twice. First with Lizzy and then with him.
Being with him had taught her she still had the ability to love deeply, but now she had to learn to switch it off again.
“I won’t compromise Lizzy’s happiness for sex. Even clothes-ripping, mind-blowing, wild animal sex.”
“That’s what it was to you?”
“Of course.”
For a moment she thought he was going to say something else, but then he stepped back, his face expressionless.
“In that case there’s nothing more to say. Call me if you need anything. Puffin Island is a small community. We look out for each other.”
Because she didn’t trust herself not to cave in and chase after him, she turned away, watching the last drips of sunlight bathe the garden, listening to his footsteps as he walked to the door.
As it closed behind him, she flinched. And remembered exactly why she’d spent all those years making sure she didn’t love.