twenty-one

VIVIAN RUBBED THE SCRAPE covering her elbow. She had forgotten the sting of the asphalt grinding into her skin the instant she rolled over and saw Frannie wasn’t moving. She’d followed the ambulance to the hospital and now was waiting for Charlie or a nurse to come out with an update on Frannie’s or Bethany’s condition.

“Vivian?” Lane Lynch was walking toward her, holding a blanket and a to-go tray with two covered foam cups. “Charlie called me on his way to the hospital. Said you could use a friend.”

Friend. The term still felt fresh and disorienting. Yet it was impossible to ignore the way it pulled at the yearning deep inside of Vivian. When had she allowed isolation to become comforting? Maintaining perfunctory relationships had been her way of protecting herself from letting anyone get close enough to hurt her the way her father had. But, somehow, Vivian had let her guard down over the last several months.

“It always gets cold in here, so I thought a blanket and a warm cup of chamomile tea would help.”

“Thank you.” Vivian accepted the blanket and tea. “It’s late. What about Noah?”

Lane sat in the vinyl chair next to her before removing the lid to her cup and blowing on the tea. “Ms. Byrdie came over after Sheriff Huggins called her. She told me Ryan’s on his way.”

Vivian breathed in the soothing scent of the tea, trying hard to avoid the emotion building in her chest. “This town is just . . .”

“Small,” Lane said with a warm smile before taking a sip.

“No. I mean, yes, but not in a bad way. When I first moved here, I thought everyone was going to hate me for what I . . .” Understanding filtered through Lane’s eyes. “But that hasn’t been the case. Everyone’s been so welcoming—like I belong here.”

Lane’s lips tilted into a smile. The elevator doors slid open, pulling her attention to Ryan’s frantic expression.

“Where is she?”

“They took her back as soon as we got here.” Vivian slid off the chair, handing Lane her tea. “Charlie is back there with them.”

Ryan wrapped her in his arms and she let herself sink into the embrace. He kissed the top of her head before releasing her, his eyes meeting hers. “You okay?”

She nodded.

A nurse in pink scrubs stood in the doorway. “Deputy Frost?”

“I’ll be back,” Ryan said before he followed the nurse back toward the patient rooms.

Vivian returned to the chair next to Lane, rubbing her hands together. “I can’t believe this happened. He loves Frannie so much.”

“His mom and sister are the world to him,” Lane said. “Though I’d venture another woman has captured a piece of his heart.”

Vivian’s cheeks warmed. “It’s hard to imagine that.”

“Really? Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“Yes, I mean, I see the way he looks at me and I know how I feel when I’m with him. It’s just that I can’t figure out what I’ve done to earn that kind of love.”

“The right kind of love isn’t earned, Vivian.” Lane pressed her hand over Vivian’s knee. “I can’t tell you how many years I’ve spent being someone else’s idea of perfect, trying to earn their love and affection only to be reminded—painfully—how imperfect I am. That’s the beauty of godly love. The kind that is forgiving, unwarranted, undeserved, and unconditional.”

Lane sipped her tea, her expression dimming with memories. “I never thought anyone could love me the way Mathias did, and when he died, I wanted to blame God. I did blame God for letting me down. For letting me believe I was unworthy to be loved, but you know what? That wasn’t God. That was the enemy wanting me to live in the lies of isolation. And when I finally chose to confront those lies, God reminded me I was never alone—and he gave me Charlie. A man who reminds me daily that I am loved wholly for who I am.”

Vivian sat back in her chair. “Loved wholly for who I am.” Lane’s words resonated in the gaping hole Vivian’s father had left inside her heart. How many years had she wondered what she could’ve done to make him love her enough not to leave?

With Ryan, Vivian hadn’t felt the need to pretend to be anyone other than who she was because she had no intention of staying in Walton, and now she claimed a piece of his heart? He had chosen her. Even over Miss Perfect Holly Newman, who still made Vivian a teensy bit—okay, maybe a lot—jealous. Ryan had decided Vivian was good enough to be his.

“Vivian?”

Lane nudged Vivian’s arm, thankfully missing the tender scrape, sending her attention to Charlie, who was standing in front of her.

“I need to ask you some questions.”

Vivian stood. “Yes, of course.”

Charlie had taken some information at the scene but said he’d probably have a few more questions. At the time, the main concern had been getting Frannie and Bethany to the hospital. Vivian thanked Lane for coming and waited as Charlie kissed his bride and sent her home. Following Charlie, Vivian searched for Ryan as she walked down the same hallway the nurse had taken him down. Was he with Frannie? Was she okay?

“How are they?”

“Bethany is shaken up and scared, but her parents are on their way.” Charlie pushed open a door leading into a room with a sign indicating it was a family waiting room. There was a couch, a small table with two chairs, and a mounted television. Against the wall was a small kitchenette-type area with a microwave, refrigerator, and Keurig coffeemaker. A basket was filled with snacks and supplies to make coffee or tea.

“What about Frannie?” Vivian asked as she sat down.

“Ryan and his mom are talking with the doctor now.” Charlie sat across from her, his expression drawn and grim. “How are you? Have you seen a doctor yet?”

Vivian’s fingers grazed the tender spot on her elbow. “I’m fine.”

“You should probably still see a doctor just in case.”

There was concern in Charlie’s tone, but he was working his jaw like he had something more to say that had nothing to do with her well-being. “What is it?”

“Do you know why Bethany was at the motel tonight?”

“No.” Vivian swallowed, unwilling to offer any guesses as to how Bethany got herself in that position. “But I’ll tell you why I was there.”

Vivian explained Frannie’s call and what happened after she arrived at the motel. Charlie tapped his thumb against the table. “Bethany was there tonight because the Watcher has a video of her.”

“Please tell me that’s not true.” Somehow the whispered words escaped over the nausea closing Vivian’s throat.

“He sent her an email about a month ago and has been using it to get her to do . . .”

Pulsing rage filled in what Charlie couldn’t finish saying and Vivian didn’t need to hear the words to know what came next. The unspoken truth curled her stomach into a ball of utter disgust.

Footsteps echoed in the hospital hallway and Vivian saw Ryan stalk past. “Ryan.”

The steps stopped and then Ryan’s frame filled the doorway of the waiting room. His eyes were ablaze and landed on her for less than a second, but she could see the depth of anger and fear radiating in them. She stood and started for him, but he shifted, turning his attention to Charlie. “Did you get Bethany’s statement?”

Charlie rose. “Yes.”

“Ryan, this is awful.” Vivian moved toward him, but he stepped back and she paused. Fear pierced her heart. “Please tell me Frannie’s okay.”

The furrow between Ryan’s eyebrows deepened, his gaze darkening.

Vivian’s heart thundered in her chest at Ryan’s silence. She searched Ryan’s face, desperate for him to answer. Frannie had to be okay. “Ryan?” She touched his arm and his posture stiffened. He pulled away, out of her reach, his hands climbing to the back of his neck as he backed away from her.

What is happening? “Ryan, talk to me. What’s going on?”

A flash of emotion flickered over his features before he turned and stormed down the hallway.

“Is Frannie—” She pressed her lips tight, a painful sob cutting into her throat and silencing the question she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to.

“The doctor is with her now,” Charlie said. “Ryan’s just scared.”

“Then I need to be with him.” She started after him but stopped at the threshold when she saw Ryan hugging Holly Newman.

Coldness seeped into the pit of her stomach. Why was she here? But the answer came almost as quickly as the question. Holly was proving to Ryan she’d always be there for him. That she was the one he needed. A steady and comforting contradiction to Vivian.

Was that why it had been so easy for her father to walk away? Was his other family everything she couldn’t be, making it easy for him to choose them over her? The coldness flowed from her stomach to her limbs. Vivian could never be what Ryan needed. He deserved better and Holly was better. Vivian spun on her heel and rushed toward the double doors, desperate to get out of there.

Moving to Walton had been a huge mistake. Somehow, Harold had managed to chip away at the carefully constructed wall she’d built to protect herself, and with each passing day someone else had chiseled away at it more. Then Ryan had come in like a wrecking ball, demolishing the last of her resistance and bringing with him the hope that maybe she was good enough.

She was a fool. She’d taken her focus off the story and allowed herself to get distracted.

Brick by brick, Vivian would rebuild the wall and never let anyone break her again.

“I know you’re hurting, brother.” Charlie dropped into the chair next to Ryan. “But was that really necessary?”

Ryan gawked at his friend. “That’s not your sister lying in a hospital bed with a gash to her skull and a concussion.” He hooked his thumb toward the hospital room behind him. His mom and Dr. Murphy had arrived just after he had and were there when the doctor explained Frankie would most likely be fine, but they would keep her overnight to be sure. “How’d you feel if that was Lane?”

“I’d be upset—”

“Exactly.” Ryan roughed a hand through his hair. “I just don’t get why Vivian wouldn’t tell me.”

“You really think she would’ve done that?” Charlie frowned. “How many times did she try to call you tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to live with that the rest of my life.” Ryan hated the way Frankie looked in the hospital bed almost as much as he hated the pained expression that had colored Vivian’s face when he’d ignored her.

“That’s not why I’m bringing it up, man.” A call from dispatch crackled over their radios. Ryan turned his radio down while Charlie responded to the operator. Charlie stood and stared into the room where Frankie was resting. “You didn’t give Vivian a chance to explain why she was there tonight.”

Ryan scoffed. “I know why she was there.”

“No, you don’t.” Charlie’s tone shifted from friendly to professional. “Frannie followed Bethany to that motel tonight. She called Vivian to the scene. Vivian told her to stay in the car and call us. She did but then got out of the car when one of the suspects put a knife to Vivian’s throat. Vivian stepped in front of the suspects when they went after your sister and that’s why Frannie’s in that hospital bed tonight. It’s not an ideal situation, I get it, but I’d hate to think how much worse it could’ve been had Vivian not been there and put herself in danger to protect Frannie and Bethany.”

“How do we know that?” Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “She needs this headline to get a job.”

“The devastation I saw in Vivian’s eyes when she found out about Bethany’s video didn’t reflect a woman who only cares about a story. Maybe it’s time you start to consider that the reason Vivian wants to find the truth has less to do with a headline and more to do with the people she’s come to care about.”

“Ryan.” His mom poked her head through the doorway. “Frannie’s awake.”

Charlie tipped his head. “Please tell her we’re praying for her.” Ryan’s mom nodded, eyes glistening, before stepping back into the room. Charlie turned to Ryan. “If you need anything, let us know.”

Before Ryan entered his sister’s room, he took a breath. How could this night have gone so completely wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions? Assumed the worst about Vivian? His throat constricted at the possibility of his error, but he also knew deep down how important the story was to Vivian.

“Why do you look like someone died?” Frankie’s voice was raspy. “And where are my flowers? Aren’t people in the hospital supposed to get flowers?”

Relief coursed through him. “It’s a shame some of your sass wasn’t knocked out of you.”

“Are you really going to joke about my head injury?” Frankie moved her fingers to the gauzy bandage covering the wound at the back of her head. “I could’ve died, ya know.”

The gravity of the situation returned in a flash and Ryan’s mood turned somber. “That’s exactly right, Frankie. Do you even realize how badly this night could’ve turned out?”

Dr. Murphy rose from the chair next to Ryan’s mom. “I’ll go get some coffee.”

Ryan respected the man’s intuition to know when to step out of a family affair.

“Honey, I think Frannie understands what she did tonight.”

“Yeah, I do.” Frankie turned her head side to side. “I’m going to have to wear a hat to cover this ugly bandage.”

“It’s not a joke, Frankie.” His sister flinched at his sharp tone. “I’m sorry, but this is serious. What were you thinking, going to the motel tonight?”

Frankie’s lip quivered. “I was thinking that I wanted to make sure my friend was okay. Vivian told me a good journalist observes the details and that’s all I wanted to do. Watch and make sure she was okay.”

Ryan’s chest grew taut at the mention of Vivian’s name. “Did Vivian also mention how stupid it is to risk your life for a dumb headline?”

“It wasn’t her fault, Ryan.” Tears filled Frankie’s blue eyes. “I didn’t want her to call you because I was afraid Bethany would get in trouble.” She sniffled. “Vivian saved my life and Bethany’s too.”

Charlie’s words returned to him. If Vivian didn’t know about the video of Bethany, then she wasn’t hunting for a jump on a headline when she went out to the motel—she was answering a call for help.

“It was dumb.” Frankie’s soft voice called his attention back to her. In the hospital bed, she looked small and frail and his anger toward her melted. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Bethany in the beginning, but I’m not sorry for following her tonight.” Ryan wanted to object, but Frankie kept talking. “Imagine what could’ve happened if I hadn’t followed her or if Vivian hadn’t stopped those guys.”

Ryan didn’t want to imagine the possibilities. Knowing the Watcher had done this to his sister’s best friend filled him with such a seething anger, he wouldn’t sleep until the monster was caught.

“Don’t be mad at Vivian.” Frankie’s eyelids began to droop. “She makes you cool.”

When Frankie had drifted to sleep, Ryan confirmed with his mom that she would stay overnight and keep him updated if anything changed. His footsteps echoed through the quiet hallways of the hospital in a determined cadence.

Cool? That wasn’t what Ryan felt Vivian made him. Bold, maybe. Adventurous, definitely. Lucky . . . he’d asked himself at least a hundred times how he’d gotten so lucky that a woman like Vivian could have feelings for him, but it was more than that. Vivian believed in him and made him want to be a better man. So why did he feel like an absolute jerk?

Because you acted like one. Ugh. Ryan’s head throbbed at the truth.

“Oh, good, you’re still here.”

Ryan turned and saw Holly smiling, walking toward him.

She lifted up a paper bag. “They’re not as good as Lane’s, but I’ve heard they’re edible.”

“It’s late.” Ryan looked at the cinnamon rolls inside the bag. Edible? They looked hard enough to be hockey pucks. “I hope you didn’t stay here for me.”

Holly blushed and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “My volunteer shift ends at seven. That’s when most of the nurses get here and the other volunteers arrive.” She looked over his shoulder and back. “Are you leaving?”

“I need to get to work.”

“How’s your sister?”

“Still has an attitude, but the doctor can’t do anything about that.”

“Sounds like she’ll be just fine.” Holly stepped closer, touching his arm. “I’m so glad I was here when she came in. Having someone familiar you can rely on is such a blessing, don’t you think?”

There was something veiled in that statement, but Ryan wasn’t sure he was coherent enough to make heads or tails of it. And he didn’t have time. “I need to go.” He handed the bag of cinnamon-flavored hockey pucks back to Holly. “I’m sure the nurses will appreciate these.”

Holly took back the bag, a flicker of disappointment passing through her eyes. “Ryan, I’m really sorry about what happened to your sister and Bethany.”

“Thank you.”

“Would it be okay if I made a casserole or something and brought it by your house?”

Ryan frowned. “You mean my mom’s house?”

“Oh, yeah.” She shook her head. “I guess the late hour’s getting to me too.” Holly toyed with her bottom lip. “I could bring you something too.”

“I appreciate that, Holly, but I’m probably going to be pretty busy at the station and don’t really know when I’ll get home.”

Someone wants my attention. Ryan remembered Vivian’s words that day outside the Way Station Café and the flicker of sentiment that had crossed her features. Jealousy? It was a feeling that had blossomed in his chest the second he had seen the roses Shep had brought to the hospital. He didn’t know much about the guy, but the idea of competing with the wealthy heir of one of the biggest newspaper companies made Ryan feel inadequate. Yet, somehow, Vivian always made it a point to squash those insecurities and make him feel like he was the only one she cared about.

Good grief, he’d made a mess.

“Holly, you’ve known me since eighth grade, so you know my limitations when it comes to girls and flirting. But if I’ve led you to believe my feelings for you are more than friendship . . . I want to apologize.”

“Ryan, are you serious?” Holly forced a smile to her lips. “Of course I know that.” She fumbled with the bag in her hand to look at her cell phone. “I should probably go check on the other patients and drop these off.”

Ryan felt bad, but he wanted to make sure Holly understood there was only one woman whose adoration he sought, and she wasn’t going to make him a casserole. No, Vivian was the woman who’d jump into the trenches with a frying pan and can of hairspray to fight off the bad guys. That’s who he wanted by his side, but would she stay there? Or give him another chance?

He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to sit back and let his own stupidity get in the way. Ryan charged out of the hospital with only two goals.

Admit to Vivian he was a total idiot and beg for her forgiveness.

Find the Watcher.

He wasn’t sure which of the two would be harder.