Ryan took Friday off from school. A self-imposed distance. Thus far, his decision to avoid her wasn’t working. He’d spent way more time with Anna than was good for his heart. And the close proximity wasn’t doing anything for his so-called boundaries. He needed to draw a line in the proverbial Kiptohanock sand.
Which—considering he was about to spend Friday evening with Anna and the kids at the tree lighting—was a half-hearted, doomed-to-failure attempt at best.
But nonetheless late that afternoon, he found himself winding a strand of white lights around the town gazebo railing. Something his dad had volunteered for each year. A job that, oddly enough, made him feel closer to his dad. But this was the last year he’d be home to decorate the square.
Margaret Davenport supervised the volunteers like a general marshaling her troops. Four different groups trimmed a tree on each corner of the green. Tonight marked the Kiptohanock Tree Lighting. And Margaret was here to make sure everything was done to her usual high standards for the little fishing village. She marched across the square to harangue the Waterman’s Association—mainly Seth Duer—in charge of the tree closest to the church.
Ryan worked the lights around the railing spindles, and his defense mechanisms went around, as well. They were just friends. Can’t get attached. He was leaving soon. They were just friends. Can’t get attached. He was leaving—
At the clatter on the roof of the gazebo, he poked his head out. Glad for a distraction, he grinned at the teenager climbing the aluminum ladder. “Santa? So soon? I’m not ready.”
“You better get ready, Mr. Savage.” An electrical cord dangled from the Moravian Christmas star in Gray Montgomery’s hand. “’Cause Santa Claus is coming to town.” He smirked. “Even a town the size of Kiptohanock.”
“Better heed your own advice, son.” Canyon Collier braced the bottom of the ladder against the gazebo. “Santa knows when you’ve been bad or good. So—”
Ryan wagged his finger. “—be good for goodness sake.” Exchanging glances, he and Canyon burst out laughing.
Gray heaved a sigh. “Old people humor.” He stretched to attach the star onto the top of the gazebo.
Canyon sucked in a breath as Gray wobbled. “Careful...”
Ryan’s eyes darted from Gray’s precarious perch to Canyon’s face.
“I got this, dude,” Gray called. “No worries.”
“Fear is so not a factor.” Canyon shook his head. “Do you remember being immortal when you were sixteen, Ryan?”
Gray teetered.
“Stop fooling around, son.” Canyon’s face reflected his concern.
Ryan jammed his hands into the warmth of his coat pockets. “Gray won the prize this year to install the star?”
“More like the short straw.” Canyon gestured. “My son was thrilled for the opportunity to defy the laws of gravity.”
Gray wasn’t Canyon’s son, though. He was his stepson, Kristina’s son by her first marriage to an airman killed over Afghanistan.
Ryan fingered the stubble on his chin. “That’s kind of rich coming from a crop duster like you.”
Canyon’s mouth curved. “Aerial application specialist.”
Ryan chuckled. “Sorry. I forgot. My bad.”
Canyon exhaled. “You can’t fault the boy. Take your pick. Nature or nurture.”
Ryan arched his eyebrow. “Either way, he didn’t stand a chance of avoiding the daredevil gene.”
Canyon glanced over his shoulder toward the florist shop. “Just don’t tell his mother. She’d have a fit.” He sniffed. “You know how women worry.”
Ryan had difficulty not cracking a smile. “I hear you, man. They do worry about every little thing.”
Canyon laughed. “That they do.”
“I’ve been wondering...” Ryan shuffled his feet. “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business.”
“Fire away. I won’t answer if I don’t like the question.”
Ryan took a breath. “You and Gray are close. You and your niece, too. Neither of them are your biological children. And now that Kristina is carrying your child—”
“Won’t make any difference.” Canyon never took his eyes off Gray. “It doesn’t work like that. Or at least not for me.”
“How does it work then?”
“Does this have anything to do with Anna Reyes?”
Ryan didn’t answer, but red crept from beneath his collar.
“Thought so.” Canyon’s mouth twitched. “Therefore, I expect you’re not asking out of nosiness but out of a need to know.”
“Anna and I are old friends,” Ryan mumbled, his lips suddenly stiff from the cold.
Canyon cut his eyes at Ryan. “Sure you are. Friends make the best—”
“Woo-hoo!” Gray fist-pumped the sky. “Mission accomplished.”
Canyon motioned. “Good for you. Now climb down slowly off the roof.” He stepped aside as Gray moved down the rungs. “Get your buddies to help you return the ladder to the fire station.”
Jumping the last two feet, Gray landed as nimbly as only a sixteen-year-old could and wheeled toward a group of kids Ryan recognized from the youth group.
Canyon smiled. “I couldn’t love Gray or Jade more if they were my biological children.”
“But he’ll never be your son.” Ryan’s heart thundered. “Don’t you see his father every time you look at him?”
“Love doesn’t work like that.” Canyon’s blue eyes sharpened. “Paxton Montgomery’s love for Kristina and Gray made them who they are today. As for the unpredictable, always marvelous purple-haired girl of mine?” His face brightened. “Every day I think how blessed I am to have them in my life.”
“But how do you get there? I want to, but...” Ryan dropped his gaze.
“It’s like Paxton passed me the torch. And God’s given me the sacred privilege to finish raising his son. A gift of grace—nothing I ever deserved. Same with Jade.”
“What about your own child when he or she is born?”
Canyon’s shoulders rose and fell. “They’re all my children, Ryan. This child Kristina carries...” He swallowed. “An unexpected gift I never thought would be mine.”
Ryan sighed. “It still doesn’t add up to me.”
“Sometimes love makes no sense. Love multiplies as it’s given. Never divides. I can’t explain it. I just know it’s so.”
“Dad!” Hands cupped around her mouth, Jade stood on the sidewalk in front of the florist shop. “Dad! Mom needs you!”
Canyon waved. “Gotta go. I’d be happy to talk more another time.” He winked at Ryan. “But right now, love is calling.”
Ryan finished installing the lights. He planned to drive Anna to the tree lighting later. Her vehicle was high on his To-Fix list, except she kept throwing other projects his way. As for the children? Agnes was bringing Oscar and his mom.
Thanks to an introduction by the Reverend, Maria’s father had a new job as Mr. Keller’s ranch foreman. Mr. Guzman would take care of the horses during the off-season and help run the foster kids camp in the summer. Maria’s mom would take care of Mr. Keller. With Mr. Keller getting on in years, the family moved into the big house with him. The Guzmans were driving into town with the old man.
Anna had texted him about Zander meeting them at the restaurant. Ryan sighed. The kid worried him.
There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on with Zander. Anna had agreed. Something they were both missing. But hopefully in meeting Zander’s uncle tonight, they could gain more clarity into his situation.
Ryan crossed the square to his car. As for what the evening possibly held for him and Anna?
It was getting harder and harder to deny the attraction he felt for her. He grimaced. They were just friends. Can’t get attached. He was leaving soon.
Leaving too soon? He scrubbed his hand over his face. Or not soon enough?
* * *
Zander and his uncle never showed.
Anna and Ryan waited an hour at the restaurant, sending the Guzmans and the Ericsons ahead to save them a spot at the tree lighting ceremony.
Finally on the village green, Ryan’s breath frosted in the wintry air. “If I had any idea where he lived, I’d—” His jaw clenched.
“Me, too.” She huddled into the warmth of her coat. “Maybe something came up. A reason his uncle couldn’t bring him. Or maybe Zander changed his mind about coming.”
Ryan blew on his cold fingers. “Is that what you really think?”
She shook her head. “No.” Zander had been especially self-controlled and diligent over the past week. He’d been desperately sincere—and for once very childlike—in his desire to attend the tree lighting.
Ryan’s eyes clouded. “If nothing else, Zander’s not the type to lose the chance for a free milkshake.”
“What should we do?”
Her heart hurt from fretting about the whereabouts of the third grader. Was he sobbing somewhere because one more adult had let him down? Hungry because no one cared enough to make sure he got something to eat?
“There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Ryan hunched his shoulders. “Try not to worry.”
She stepped closer. “Like you’re not worrying?”
“We’ll sort it out with him on Monday. Give him another reward.” Ryan’s lips tightened. “A reward within our control.”
Using Ryan as a windbreak, she nestled against his side. “Brrrr.” It was nice leaning into him. Relying on his wisdom and strength instead of having to shoulder everything alone.
“Are you cold?” His arm went around her shoulders. Almost immediately, though, he dropped it. “Sorry.” He inserted a breath of space between them.
She regretted more than the loss of his warmth. But she couldn’t say that, of course. They were friends. She shouldn’t expect anything more. She was being foolish. Tears burned her eyelids.
Hormones. She sniffed. She needed to get her act together. Ryan was leaving soon. She had to face facts. But it was a reality that caused her chest to ache.
“When, Mama?” Oscar, the human pogo stick, plucked at his mother’s coat sleeve. “When?”
Brittany smiled at her son. “Soon,” she whispered. “Good things come to those who wait. Right, Mrs. Reyes?”
Anna nodded, and the pressure eased at Brittany’s soft-spoken reminder. They waited with most of the year-round residents for the lights of a Kiptohanock Christmas to shine forth on the darkened square.
High overhead, stars glittered in the velvety blackness of the December evening. Ryan hummed a Christmas song. She shouldn’t get too used to Ryan. Who lately seemed so much more than a friend.
She nudged him. “You sound happy.”
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year. How about you?”
She blushed. “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.” More than she would’ve believed possible a few weeks ago.
He gave her that lopsided smile of his. And something fluttered in her chest.
“Good.” His eyes crinkled. “My job is done.”
She bristled. Was that what she was to him? A job.
For more than the usual reasons, this year she’d come to dread contemplating the day after Christmas. Ryan would be gone. And whatever she’d be doing, she’d be doing alone.
“About that...”
He glanced at her.
“After the tree lighting, would you come back to the trailer?”
He pursed his lips. “I do have to drive you home.”
“I meant to watch a Christmas movie with me.”
He frowned. A long moment in which she had difficulty drawing in a breath of air. Finally—
“Okay.” He tugged the end of her red tartan scarf. “Unless it’s one of those sappy chick flicks.”
Blissful relief.
“Oh.” She grabbed his coat. “Look.”
Sudden light blazed from the four corners of the square. Atop the gazebo, the star burned brightly, pushing away the inky blackness of the night. Gasps of delight echoed around the green. Maria clapped her little brother’s hands together. And Oscar’s eyes weren’t the only ones shining.
Thanks to a heads-up by Agnes and Reverend Parks, the Ericsons and the Guzmans soon found themselves knee-deep in a crowd of town residents eager to make their acquaintance. She and Ryan called out their goodbyes as they ambled toward his car.
Gratitude flooded her heart. It was so good to be home, a place where people cared about each other. Good ole Kiptohanock.
She stole a look at Ryan as they drove out of the village over the small bridge. Was it gratitude she felt for him?
At the trailer, she set a bag of popcorn inside the microwave. Over the last week, she’d glimpsed snatches of the loneliness Ryan did his best to hide from family and friends.
But she saw through his busyness to his heart. She’d always been able to see through the shields he erected. To the real Ryan. He was going to make some woman—
She clenched her eyes shut against an image of Ryan loving someone else. Of being loved by someone else. When he left soon... Her throat caught. Not seeing him would be excruciating.
Every day she promised herself she’d back away from Ryan. Yet every night she couldn’t go through with her plan to wean herself from spending time together. Instead, she baited him with yet another project.
Making it harder for him to eventually leave. To leave the kids. To leave her. But each evening when he finished her latest To-Do item, her resolve weakened. Her palms became clammy. She actually felt dizzy. And she found herself cajoling him back again.
The microwave dinged. She shook herself. She had to stop needing him. Tonight, she had to let him go. Set him free to live the life he most wanted. She was being selfish.
If she truly loved him... She yanked open the microwave. Loved? Grabbing the popcorn bag, she slammed the microwave door shut.
Of course she loved him. She’d loved Ryan Savage since they were six years old. He was her best friend.
“Everything okay in there, Anna Banana?” he called from the living room.
She gritted her teeth as she tore into the bag and dumped the contents into a large plastic bowl. “Almost ready.”
Which was another lie. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Ryan. Clutching the bowl against her chest, she headed to the living room, where he crouched before the television.
Glancing up, he smiled. She ignored the flurry in her pulse that his smile ignited. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ryan beat her to the punch.
“How about we do a Walmart run tomorrow?”
She pressed her lips together.
Hands on his knees, he shifted his weight. “Get some stuff for the baby just in case.”
She blinked. “Just in case what?”
Rising, he took the bowl from her. “While you have me here to help you. So you don’t have to deal with it alone after I move.”
“I—”
He held up his hand. “Before you go ballistic on me, Mom and the sisters are bugging me to find out what you need for the baby. Since you wouldn’t let the church ladies give you a baby shower.” He gave her a look. “You’d be doing me a favor by getting them off my back.”
“Okay.”
“’Cause if it’s one thing I don’t need is a bunch of hens—wait.” He cocked his head. “Did you say yes?”
With only the bowl—and the baby—between them, she had a hard time remembering to breathe. “I’d love to go shopping with you.” She headed to the seen-better-days sofa. “I’m female, aren’t I?”
He flopped on the couch beside her. “Never been a question about that.”
She took the bowl before he spilled the popcorn.
He snagged a handful of kernels. “What’s on tonight?”
She scrounged under the cushion for the remote and handed it to him. “My favorite. It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“My favorite, too.”
She swallowed. “I remember.”
He munched on popcorn while they watched the movie. Kicking off his shoes, his long legs stretched out on the braided rug. During the commercials, he crooned familiar holiday jingles to car dealerships and department store ads.
“You are insane.” But she laughed as he meant her to. Egging him on further. Such a guy. She grinned.
Tiring of holding the popcorn, she rested the half-empty bowl on top of her belly. Her stomach rippled. And a tiny, rounded punch sent the bowl sailing off the couch.
She gasped as the popcorn went flying. The bowl landed on the rug with a thud. “Did you see that?”
He bent over her abdomen. “Way to go, little bit. Tell your mama you’re not a table.” He touched his hand to her belly.
Another thump. He sucked in a breath and removed his hand.
“The baby knows your voice, Ryan.”
His forehead wrinkled. “You think?”
“I do.” She seized his hand and pressed his palm against her side. “Do it again. Say something.”
For a second, he resisted the pressure of her hand. But leaning closer, he sang a line from “The Little Drummer Boy.” “Pa-rumm-pa-rumm-pumm.”
A one-two punch crested like a wave across her abdomen.
He bit his lip. “It’s because I’m a guy. Like you’d hear a bass thrumming in a monitor.”
She shook her head. “The baby’s never done that with anyone else but me. And my voice isn’t as deep as yours.”
“You really think the baby likes me?”
She tilted her chin. “What’s not to like?”
His gaze lifted to hers. Her heart pounded at his expression. Fire and ice. Like a sweep of snowflakes dancing across her skin. Like the flame of a candle burning in an otherwise dark night.
When another wave of motion crested across her belly, the moment was lost.
Moving his hand to the new location, Ryan’s face transformed. “Hello, little one.” A somersault this time.
She laughed, but tears swam in her eyes. “Baby says hello to you, too.”
“You’re going to have a wonderful life, little one.” His eyes gleamed behind his glasses. “Such a wonderful life, Anna.”
And for the first time since she buried Mateo, she believed it just might be true.