Chapter Four
Ryan paused in the living room doorway and glanced back at his mother. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else before I go?”
“If I do, I can get it myself. I may not be able to drive or do cartwheels, but I can fill the kettle with water if I want a cup of tea.” She moved her book and rested her good hand on Charlie’s back when the cat rolled over on her lap. “For heaven’s sake, go for a run or a ride or whatever. I don’t need you to hover over me.”
He grinned. “If you say so. I’ll be back in time to cook dinner.”
“You do that. I consider meal preparation payback for all the years I fed you.”
“Seems only fair. By the way, you’re spoiling my cat.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied Ryan. “I’d rather spoil a grandchild, but I’ll take what I can get.”
He snorted, then crossed the entry and let the front door swing shut behind him with a bang. She’d better enjoy Charlie since babies weren’t anywhere near his radar. His steps slowed on the brick walk as a handful of shouting and laughing kids rode their bikes past the driveway. Memories of Leah matching his pace as they pumped hard to reach the top of the hill at the end of the street, then crouched low to race back down again played through his mind. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker and headed down the path through the empty lot next door, in the direction of the beach. The two of them had made a good team before she decided they were simply too different to last over the long haul. He kicked a pinecone to send it ricocheting off a rock. Turned out she was right.
He trotted across the road and followed the steep trail down the cliff to the beach. When he reached the sand, he stopped to stretch. He wasn’t a runner, but he needed exercise, and he hadn’t had the foresight to bring his mountain bike in his mad dash to leave home after Leah’s call. Charlie was lucky he’d remembered him. Setting out at an easy pace, he headed north along an endless stretch of sand. Every now and then he passed a couple strolling near the water’s edge or another jogger and nodded a greeting, but the cold wind blowing off the ocean discouraged casual beachgoers.
Ryan had run a couple of miles and left the center of town far behind when a big dog loped toward him from the direction of the bluff that edged the beach. The brown and black mongrel looked like some sort of shepherd mix. He slowed as the dog approached, then sped up again when the animal showed no signs of aggression. His new pal fell in at his side.
“Where did you come from?” He squinted against the sun and made out a zigzagging path down the cliff face. “Huh, I didn’t know anyone lived this far out except . . . Leah.” He stopped and reached a cautious hand toward the dog’s collar where tags dangled. One in the shape of a bone identified him as Barney. Pulling out his cell, he scrolled through recent calls to match the phone number on the tag. As he suspected, the mutt belonged to Leah.
With a sigh, he tapped the number to dial.
“Hello.” She sounded breathless when she answered.
“Leah, I have your dog.”
Silence greeted him before she spoke again. “Ryan?”
“Sorry, I assumed . . . never mind. Yeah, this is Ryan. I found Barney—at least that’s what his tag says—on the beach. I thought you might be worried about him.”
“Honestly, I didn’t realize he was gone. He likes to hang out down by the water, and he never strays too far.”
His brows shot up. “You don’t keep him tied up or fenced in?”
“No. He never wanders out to the highway, and he’s perfectly friendly. Why shouldn’t he enjoy his freedom while I’m at work most days?”
Since he didn’t figure she wanted to hear a lecture on responsible dog ownership, he kept his thoughts to himself. “Is he smart enough to stop following me when I turn to run back to town?”
“I’m pretty sure he is.” She didn’t sound the least bit convinced. “Uh, maybe I’ll come down to get him. Do you mind waiting five minutes while I get dressed?”
He swayed a little as an image of Leah straight from the shower weakened his knees. He’d only seen her that way once, years before, but the picture had been etched forever on his mind. “I’ll run a little farther and be back in five.”
“Thank you, Ryan.”
“No problem.” He stuck his phone in his pocket. Hopefully pounding the sand would knock the mental image of Leah, wet and naked, out of his head. He took off running, with Barney at his heels. Two and a half minutes later, he turned to jog back. As he approached the bottom of the stairs cut into the bluff, one glance told him Leah wasn’t on her way down yet.
What a shock. When had she ever been on time? Turning into a stiff breeze, he gazed out at the three monolithic rocks far offshore. Stooping, he picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them one at a time into the waves while the dog jumped and splashed, then ran back to shake all over him. Perfect.
“Sorry, it took me longer than I thought.”
He turned slowly to face Leah. She wore a purple hoodie and a pair of faded cutoffs. Long, shapely legs stretched forever. She’d pulled her damp hair back in a ponytail and hadn’t bothered with makeup. Her resemblance to the girl he’d loved in high school was strong enough to take his breath away. Everyone else aged, but apparently not Leah.
Barney bounded up to her and planted his front paws on her chest. Though she staggered backward, Leah patted her dog before pushing him down.
She brushed dirty wet prints off her hoodie then glanced up. “How’s your mom?”
“Hanging in there, despite her frustration. The doctor says she’ll get her cast off in six to eight weeks. Until then, she can’t drive to appointments or the grocery store, and cooking is a challenge, so I’m staying in Siren Cove.”
Leah dug her bare toes into the sand. “That’s awfully nice of you.”
“I could hire a caretaker, but Mom would hate having a stranger constantly around the house. I may have to travel to Portland a couple of times for meetings and home again to collect more of my stuff, but my work schedule is flexible.” He met her soft brown gaze. “Have laptop will travel.”
“If you’ll be in town for a while, we’re likely to run into each other now and then.”
From her tone, he wasn’t sure if she was neutral or apprehensive about future meetings. “I was sorry to hear about your divorce.”
She stiffened. “Were you?”
He plunged his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Maybe I thought Brock was an ass, but I never wanted you to be unhappy, despite . . .”
“Well, you were right. I thought his lighthearted outlook on life would be a good match for my own. Turned out he didn’t take anything seriously, including our marriage vows. I guess I should have listened to you when you said he’d hurt me.”
He clenched his fists. “He cheated on you?”
“More than once. I was too stupid to believe the rumors the first time. Maybe I just didn’t want to acknowledge I was such a bad judge of character.”
He stepped toward her to touch her arm before pulling back. “Any man who would abuse your trust has shit for brains.”
She smiled, and the shadows in her eyes disappeared. “I won’t argue with that. Anyway, it’s finished. Now, I thank God he wanted to wait to have kids, so I don’t have that tie to bind us forever. He relocated up north after we split up, and I moved back into my old childhood home when my parents left town.”
“Mom mentioned they moved to California a while back.”
She nodded. “My sister lives in the Bay Area now. When Brenda had her second baby, they wanted to be closer to their grandkids since it seemed obvious I wouldn’t be producing offspring anytime soon.”
“We have that in common.”
Leah studied him for a moment. “My grandma is still here, though. She lives in the senior apartments over on the other side of town.”
“I always loved your grandma. What a character.”
“Gram hasn’t changed much. She keeps me on my toes.”
Ryan took a step back. “Well, it was nice to catch up, but I’d better get going.” Still, he hesitated, reluctant to walk away. “Is it too late to change the response I sent in for the reunion party from a no to a yes? Since I’ll be here anyway—”
“Of course not. It looks like we’ll have a decent turnout. I was surprised at how many people plan to come.”
“That’s great.” He retreated further, even though part of him wanted to reach out and touch the curve of her cheek then bend in to kiss those full lips. Not the part he used for thinking, however, and he wasn’t stupid enough to let attraction overtake common sense. “See you, Leah.”
“Ryan?”
He stopped. “Yes?”
“If you feel like company on a run or a hike or a bike ride, give me a call. I try to get out and exercise most days, at least when it isn’t pouring rain. Sometimes even when it is.”
“Aren’t you still teaching?”
“Sure, but I go after class lets out. Or, I get up early.” Her quick smile held a touch of uncertainty. “If you’d rather not, I understand. But, we were friends first, before . . .” She glanced away.
“Before we fell in love.”
Her gaze swung up to meet his. “Yeah, before that. Maybe we can be friends again instead of passing awkwardly by each other on the street with no more than a nod. Or you can simply tell me to go to hell.”
A snort of laughter escaped. “Way to call it like it is, Leah. Your honesty is nothing if not refreshing.”
“I don’t see much point in pretending we don’t have a history together.”
“No, none at all.” His chest tightened. “Why not? I’ll give you a call. Maybe tomorrow. I still need to go home to get my mountain bike, but we could hike.”
“I’d like that.” She turned away. “Have a nice evening, Ryan.”
“You, too.” He took off at a sprint. Not to escape conflicting emotions I don’t want to acknowledge let alone dissect. That isn’t it at all. He ran harder, facing into the wind. Am I an idiot for letting Leah back into my life, even for an afternoon hike? Maybe. But she’d stirred up more of a reaction in him in the last ten minutes than Ursula had in six months of dating. An inner voice scoffed. Trepidation and lust. Not the best combo.
By the time he reached town, he was sweating bullets. He stopped below the path up into his neighborhood to walk in circles to cool off. A lone figure heading his way made him pause. He recognized the confident stride even before she got close enough to identify.
“Nina.” A grin stretched his lips. “It’s good to see you.”
She ran the last few yards and reached out to hug him.
“Don’t. I’m dripping sweat and probably smell like a dirty sock.”
“I don’t care.” She hugged him anyway. “Sorry to hear about your mom’s accident.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t much like having her independence curtailed. She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“I’ll say. She raised you single-handedly after your dad died all those years ago.”
“Lucky for Mom, I was a perfect child.”
Nina laughed. “I seem to remember a few less than perfect moments.” She hesitated then squinted into the setting sun. “Have you talked to Leah yet?”
“I ran into her, or rather her dog, on the beach a half hour ago. We chatted for a few minutes after she came down to get Barney.”
“And?”
“What do you mean, and? We had a civil conversation.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“Leah played the friend card. She wants to go hiking and not act awkward when we see each other.”
Her green eyes glimmered with humor. “Sounds like Leah. Always the peacemaker. I know she was a little apprehensive about seeing you after she finally kicked Brock’s cheating, lying ass out of her life.”
He reared back. “Why? I’m not a total jerk, am I?”
“No, and Paige and I both told her you wouldn’t make her feel worse about not recognizing the man for what he was sooner, especially since she constantly beats herself up about it.” She paused. “Despite how your relationship with her ended.”
“You mean with Leah telling me my OCD would drive her insane?”
“She didn’t say anything of the sort! Leah’s far too gracious to be cruel.”
“Okay, maybe she couched her rejection in softer terms, but that was the gist.” He glanced out over the rolling waves before meeting her gaze again. “Leah is right about one thing. We were friends first. Salvaging that part of our relationship would be . . . nice.”
“Damn right.” Nina patted his shoulder. “If I don’t see you again before the reunion, we’ll hang out then and catch up on what it’s like to rub elbows with the rich and famous. You are planning to come, aren’t you?”
“I told Leah I would. For the record, my life is pretty normal. Quiet, maybe even a little lonely, despite the success of Crossroads.”
“Huh, sounds like you should do something about that.” She retreated a few steps. “And I should get back to work. I only came down here to clear the paint fumes out of my head.”
“Sure. Good talking to you, Nina.” With a wave, he headed toward the path up the cliff, then paused for a moment to glance back as she walked away.
Nina’s long stride quickly increased the distance between them but didn’t detract from her lithe beauty. She was stunning. A solitary creature with only a few close friends, they’d always had far more in common than he had with the gregarious Leah. But not the chemistry.
He climbed the steep slope as he contemplated the oddity of coming home again. Time seemed to have dissolved since he’d returned to Siren Cove. Maybe what he needed was a solid dose of Leah in the present to clear away memories of the past, so he could move on.
Once and for all.
* * *
“I tell you, there’s no way of finding the stupid box before the reunion committee digs it up again.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck as the irritating voice on the other end of the line droned on and on in his ear.
“Look, the only other option would be to somehow convince Leah Grayson to tell me where they buried it, and she’s not going to do that without asking questions.” He gritted his teeth. “I’ve no intention of putting a target on my back if something goes wrong.”
“Then eliminate the problem. Bring the nosy bitch to the holding room after you get the information from her. We’ll need a sacrifice for our Samhain celebration. Why not her?”
“We’ve avoided detection for well over a century because we have one rule. Never in our own backyard. We find our sacrifices elsewhere.” His hand shook as he shifted the phone to his other ear. “Twenty years ago, we took one a little too close, and questions were asked, as you very well know. It’s the reason I had to hide the film in the first place.” His voice rose. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“The situation was under control, so your panic then wasn’t necessary.” Heavy breathing followed. “How do you intend to fix the problem?”
“I’ll either be there when they open the box or have someone I trust in position. One of us will lift the roll of film before those women notice it, and make certain the damn thing disappears for good.” His tone was sharp. “I’ll handle the situation.”
“You’d better.”
Sweat broke across his brow just thinking about the consequences if he didn’t. Not that he’d admit he was worried. When he spoke, his voice oozed confidence. “You can tell the others the complication is under control. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to get the film back so our ceremony can go on as scheduled.”
“See that you do. You created this mess, and you’d damn well better fix it . . . or there’ll be hell to pay.”