Friday night, Anna drove to meet the other carolers. The memory of Ryan’s swoon-worthy kiss that afternoon was dancing around in her head. The latest in a growing number of earth-shattering moments. All those years ago, her mother had been correct. A girl had to watch out for strong, silent types like Ryan Savage.
She parked next to the seawall where she could hear the waves lapping against the shoreline below. Her mind flitted to Ryan. Her heart thumped in her chest. Ryan was like still waters and yet somehow altogether more. Like the unrelenting tide of an incoming tsunami.
Anna put her hand on her burning cheek. Her palm felt cold against her skin.
He swept Anna off her feet with the feelings he evoked within her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy. He unraveled everything she’d believed she’d known and understood and planned. He unraveled her. Ryan would be so easy to love.
If she already didn’t. Her breath hitched. Was it true?
Why now? Had the past been only a precursor? So when they came together again, they could more fully appreciate what truly mattered?
Only the stars winked in the indigo twilight above the church steeple. She moved toward the crowd gathered on the church lawn. Her heart lurched as Ryan’s gaze locked onto hers.
She slipped through the throng, her greetings on autopilot. In a straight trajectory to the one person who’d made Christmas come alive for her this year. Who’d made her come alive again. His sisters hugged her.
Ryan smiled. “I keep forgetting to ask how the doctor’s appointment went?”
Was this possible? Could it be God meant for her to find happiness again? That despite everything, God wanted to give her far more than she’d ever dared to dream?
She gave Ryan a quick medical update as the carolers divided into smaller groups. She and Ryan found themselves with Evy, his sisters and a few Coastie families. Their group would visit the homes around the square.
The carolers fanned out. Some ventured out to outlying areas like the Duer inn or Pauline Crockett’s. Another group headed for the hospital. Still another group had shut-ins on their list. Later, the carolers would reconvene at Margaret Davenport’s lavish home on the outskirts of town for hot chocolate.
Anna suspected a conspiracy of Savages and Pruitts to ensure she’d have plenty of rest stops. Because on the lawn at each house, an empty chair awaited her.
“You and I are going to take a longer break once we reach your house.” His breath warmed her cheek. “And we need to talk.” He twined his fingers into hers.
Her heart started to pound. “About?”
Ryan’s lips curved. “About us. About the future. I’ve made another decision.”
Her mouth went dry. Was he imagining a future that included her and Ruby? Had he decided to stay for good?
Ryan patted her stomach. “I’m going to have to come up with another fruit name for the little Christmas baby.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really, although you don’t make it easy.” He made a face. “Not much rhymes with Ruby.”
She laughed.
He leaned his mouth close to her abdomen. “How does Ruby Red Grapefruit sound to you, little one?”
Movement rippled across the top of her belly. His face transformed with wonder. Ruby most definitely recognized his voice.
“Grapefruit?” Anna laughed. “You are so crazy.”
He touched the tip of her nose. “Nippy tonight, isn’t it? We better get you inside.”
She nodded, her heart full. “Next stop, the Pruitts.”
Her arm inserted into the crook of his elbow, they strolled past houses lit with neon Santas, reindeer and the ever-optimistic Frosty. Reaching the family home, Evy’s clear soprano started them off with “Joy to the World.” Anna sang alto harmony to Ryan’s baritone.
Midverse, the door opened, and light spilled onto the carolers. Silhouetted by the interior lights, she recognized her brothers’ broad shoulders as they stepped onto the porch.
The carolers had segued to “Away in a Manger” when two other people moved into the doorway. Someone burlier than her brothers. And a shorter, more feminine form beside him. Her throat closed.
Continuing to sing, Ryan glanced at her. She pressed her lips together. Oh, no. Not now. Not this way.
But she had only herself to blame. The time for reckoning had come. Her parents stepped into the circle of light. Time had run out for Anna to make things right.
* * *
In the midst of the swelling chorus of voices, Anna let go of his hand. When Evy stopped singing, too, Ryan’s gaze shifted to the four people on the porch. And then he understood.
Anna did that protective thing with her hands. One hand on top of her bump, the other cupped the bottom. As if framing her child.
Her father, ex–deputy sheriff Charles Everett Pruitt, Junior, moved to the edge of the top step. The wooden planks creaked. Even in the dim glow of the streetlight, Ryan could tell her father was incensed. Gail Pruitt’s eyes were red-rimmed. Their anger and hurt disbelief knifed through Ryan.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Pruitt,” Tessa called.
Evy’s coat brushed against him. “Should I get the innocent bystanders away from this train wreck? Or stay here to have your back?”
Justine waved. “Anna didn’t tell us you’d be home for Christmas.”
Everett Pruitt’s face darkened. “Lot of that going around, I hear. The not-telling part.”
The chatter faded. An awkward silence reigned. Justine darted an uncertain look at Ryan.
“It might be better, Evy—” Anna sucked in a breath “—if you took the group to the next stop.”
Evy bit her lip.
“Please...” Anna whispered.
“Everyone?” Evy’s voice took on a crisp, forcibly cheerful librarian tone. “We’d better get going to Margaret’s house.”
Ryan’s sisters didn’t budge.
“What’s going on, Ryan?”
“What’s wrong?”
He nudged his chin to the sidewalk. “It’s okay. Go ahead.” They left him with reluctance.
“Come inside so we can talk, Anna.” Gail Pruitt sounded as if she might burst into tears.
“Mom...” She reached for her mother.
“Go inside the house, Gail.” Her father turned the full force of his glare on his daughter.
Fists clenched, Ryan stiffened.
Anna’s mother stumbled across the threshold. Will went in after her. Charlie and their father remained.
Ryan helped Anna negotiate the steps. Everett Pruitt took one look at Ryan’s hand on his daughter’s arm and spun on his heel, disappearing inside.
Charlie waited at the door. “I’m sorry, Anna. They just showed up. No warning.”
Moistening her lips, she crossed over the threshold. “The ambush.”
“I tried calling your cell, but—”
“But I turned it off when the caroling began.” She took a shuddering breath. “This isn’t your fault, Charlie.” Her voice broke. “It’s mine.”
Will stepped forward. “And when Mom started to cry...” He hunched his shoulders. “I told them about the IVFs and Mateo’s wishes.”
Gail Pruitt swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell us, Anna?”
Everett shook his head. “Did you think we’d be too stupid to notice you had a baby when we got back from visiting Jaxon?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m the one who’s stupid for not telling you before you found out the wrong way.”
Everett Pruitt scowled. “Are you telling me that you and Mateo hatched this plot to keep us in the dark over three years ago?”
“It was me. Not Mateo. We believed he would recover, and we would raise this child together.” Her mouth trembled. “It didn’t turn out the way we hoped.”
“Why now?” Everett rocked on his heels. “Why upend your life after all this time?”
Gail Pruitt’s face sagged. “When I think about what you endured alone... Why didn’t you tell us, Anna?”
“Because she didn’t trust us.” Her father’s mouth tightened. “She didn’t trust her own parents with the second most important decision of her life. Like she didn’t trust us enough to tell us before she ran off to get married.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.” Anna threw out her hands. “Just like you never accepted Mateo.”
Everett folded his arms across his barrel chest. “Whose fault was that, Anna?”
Her eyes blazed. “I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it. Looks like I was right.”
Everett jabbed his finger. “You never gave us a chance to know that marine you married. Same song, second verse.”
Her breathing had gone shallow. Her face, an unnatural color. She shook like a beech tree in a winter gale.
Ryan took her hand. “This isn’t good for Anna. Or the baby.”
Everett rounded on him. “You stay out of this. In fact, why don’t you hit the road? Stay out of our business, Savage.”
Gail Pruitt put her hand to her throat. “We need to talk this through as a family.”
Her father glowered at his sons. “Congratulations on the conspiracy of silence. I expected better from you boys.”
Will shook his head. “There was no conspiracy, Dad.”
“Don’t blame them. I asked them to keep quiet until I could tell you myself.” She slumped. “Only it took me longer than I’d figured to gather my courage.” Her gaze flicked between her parents. “With good reason.”
Her father planted his hands on his hips. “Don’t you dare blame your mother and me for the choices you’ve made.”
“I don’t regret any of my choices. Neither marrying Mateo or carrying his child. They were my choices to make, and I made them.”
Ryan winced at the stubborn note in her voice. The situation had taken a turn for the worse. Snowballed out of control.
“In case you’re w-wondering, Dad.” Her voice quavered. “The baby is a girl.”
Her mother’s face crumpled. “Why did you shut us out, Anna?”
“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, Mom. Dad, I never meant...” Anna choked back a sob.
Everett placed his arm around his wife. “I think we’ve said everything we need to say. What’s done is done.” Her father threw a heated glance Ryan’s way. “Weren’t you leaving?”
Ryan experienced a sudden sympathy for the young, dead marine. He turned toward the door.
“Wait, Ryan.” Defiance glinted in Anna’s eyes. “I’m leaving, too.” She stumbled out the door.
The door closed with a soft click behind them. Raised, angry voices erupted from within the normally tranquil Pruitt home. Closing her eyes, she swayed.
“Let me drive you home, Anna.”
“No.” She pulled out of his grasp. “I need to be alone.” She inhaled sharply. “I want to be alone right now.”
Alone? Was he deluding himself about a possible future with Anna? Her father had made an excellent point regarding Anna’s past pattern of behavior.
The downside of her fierce independence was a prideful unwillingness to admit she needed help. When she desperately needed it most, she cut herself off from those who loved her most.
Was he fooling himself, imagining something between them? Perhaps he was reading too much into what they’d shared over the last month. Into what she hadn’t said.
Doubt ate away at his stomach. His head throbbed. And as he tucked Anna safely into her car, he’d never felt so alone. So cold. Or as empty.