28
This is the best day of my life,” Eric said as he chewed a bite of his fourth hot dog.
Ryan thought so, too. They were all seated around a picnic table covered with a red checked cloth, eating hot dogs and chips and reliving a day full of snorkeling, exotic wildlife, and magnificent views. A bonfire would have been nice, but open fires weren’t allowed on the island. Not that it mattered. The day had been a resounding success for everyone, though Ryan was still worried about Carly.
During dinner she’d been surprisingly quiet. The lively woman who’d sprinkled pepper all over her food was nowhere in sight.
Kyle helped himself to more chips, passed the bag to Taylor, and squirted mustard on a bun. “I’m with Eric. This has been great.”
“I think so, too,” Taylor said.
“So do I,” Nicole added. “I’ll never forget the dolphins.”
While the kids bantered about everything from sea lions to college to why ketchup didn’t belong on a hot dog, Ryan shot looks at Carly. Not once did she look directly at him. Instead, she busied herself with gathering trash and wiping off mustard bottles. Ryan watched her from the corner of his eye until Eric pushed his paper plate away. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Snorkeling is fun, but I want to see even more. Can I take scuba lessons?”
What a difference from eight weeks ago, when he refused to leave his room. Ryan didn’t want to spoil his kids by giving them stuff they didn’t earn, but he wanted to encourage Eric. “Let’s see what your mom says.”
Ryan already knew Heather would love the idea. They e-mailed often about the boys, and she’d been delighted with Eric’s interest in the ocean—everything except going down in a shark cage. She’d been generous to Ryan with praise—her prayers, too, judging by the Bible verse in her sig line, something about God making all things new. After today, Ryan could almost believe it was true.
He tried again to share a look with Carly, but she was opening a box of graham crackers.
“Who wants s’mores?” she asked without looking up.
A chorus of “me’s” filled the air, and Ryan fired up the stove again. Carly laid out the crackers and Hershey bars while he handed out skewers and the kids passed the bag of marshmallows. A few minutes later, they were all eating the gooey treats. Ryan was on his feet by the stove, Carly was putting away the food, and the kids were scattered around the campsite with their mouths full.
Eric broke the silence with a smack of his lips. “I kind of miss Penny.”
“Me too,” Kyle added.
“So do I,” Ryan said wistfully.
Finally, Carly looked at him and smiled. Her cheeks glowed with too much sun, and her hair was a tangled gold mess. The look they traded said everything that needed to be said, but it asked a question, too. Where do we go from here? She turned away first, leaving him to wish they were alone instead of surrounded by teenagers.
Everyone pitched in, and they were done in five minutes. Kyle and Eric started a play-boxing match, Taylor and Nicole braved a trip to the outhouses, and Nathan ducked into the tent to put on a sweatshirt.
Carly jammed her hands in her hoodie pockets. “I think I’ll take a walk.”
“Where to?” he asked.
“Cathedral Cove. It’s not far.”
Ryan almost invited himself along, but Kyle and Eric had stopped boxing and were watching him. He settled for handing her a flashlight. “Be careful. It gets dark fast.”
“Thanks.” She took the light and walked down the trail, her shoulders square and that long hair fluttering in the salt-scented breeze.
Ryan watched her until the path curved out of sight; then he turned back to Kyle and Eric. The boys traded a look. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s Carly,” Kyle said. “She seems kind of sad.”
“You think so?”
“I do,” Eric answered.
Kyle stood a little straighter. “Maybe you should go with her. You know, talk to her or something.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Eric added. “Talk to her.”
Ryan glanced from one boy to the other. “So she seems sad to you?”
“Kind of,” Kyle answered, less certain now.
Eric nodded with confidence. “I think she feels left out.” This, from the boy so often caught in the middle and sometimes overlooked. “I like her a lot, Dad. Mom will always be, you know, Mom. But Carly’s like an aunt—the fun kind.”
Kyle wrinkled his brow a second time. “I don’t know how to say this exactly, but if you wanted to ask her out, we’d be cool with that.”
“Yeah.” As usual, Kyle snagged the last word.
With his sons standing shoulder to shoulder, Ryan saw the wise men they were destined to become. “So you like her?” he said.
“A lot,” they both said.
“I like her, too,” he told them. “And you’re right. She’s not acting like herself. Can you two hold down the fort while I check on her?”
The boys nodded, but Ryan hesitated until he spotted Nicole and Taylor ambling toward the campsite. With all five kids safe and secure, he signaled the boys with a wave. “We’ll be back in a while.” There it was again. We. And this time it sounded exactly right.
A short walk took him to Cathedral Cove and a lookout that faced north. The sun, low on the horizon, tinted the sky with shades of orange, and a smattering of city lights dotted the shoreline with silvery specks. Distant whitecaps glistened with an energy of their own, but the most beautiful sight of all was Carly, standing with her toes against a railroad tie marking the edge of the lookout. The sunset lit up her hair, but what struck him most was the determined lift of her chin.
She didn’t hear him approach. Maybe the waves drowned out his footsteps, or maybe she was lost in the beauty, or praying. He paused to watch, drinking in the moment, until her shoulders slumped and she crumpled down on a flat wood bench.
What a beautiful, awful day this had been. Alone for the first time, Carly gave in to tears streaked with both joy and misery. Overcome, she hunched forward and buried her face in her hands.
A strong male hand clamped down on her shoulder. She lifted her face, met Ryan’s gaze, and choked off a sob. There was no place to hide, no way to deny the truth behind her tears. Dropping down next to her, he laced their fingers into a single fist and raised it off her lap. Neither of them spoke, except for squeezing their hands tighter, until Ryan murmured in a low drawl, “We have a problem, don’t we?”
“No, we’re fine,” she choked out. They had to be fine for the sake of the kids. “I’m just a little emotional.”
He quirked a brow. “A little?”
“A lot. But I’m all right.”
“Ah, Carly—”
“What is it?”
“I feel it, too.” He cupped her jaw and stared into her watery eyes. They were a breath apart, an inch from the kiss they both had denied for weeks. But instead of taking her breath away with that first kiss, he squeezed her heart with words. “I love you.”
Orange light burned all around him. In the cove below, a wave slapped against the rocks. “I love you,” he repeated in an even huskier tone. “I think you feel the same way.”
“I do,” she admitted.
“Say it.”
“I love you,” she said in a full voice.
He kissed her then, and all she could feel was the burning imprint of his mouth, the warmth of his hand on her cheek, the heat of his body chasing away everything except hope. There was nothing tentative between them, no shy questions waiting for answers, no hesitation whatsoever. Every nerve in her body, every cell, was attuned to how good and right it felt to be in Ryan’s arms.
She gave herself willingly, savored the heat, the light, the love, and surrendered to the tender glory of a kiss long denied. Every worry sank to the bottom of her mind. But then a gull squawked a warning, and she heard the slosh of waves eating away at the island. Quaking inside, she pulled back. “Ryan, I-I don’t know what to do. Everything is so—”
“Complicated.”
“Yes.” She raised her hand to his jaw, trailed her fingers down the bristle, aware of every spike and prickle, both the ones on his jaw and the ones in her soul. “We’re just so different.”
“That’s true,” he said. “But we’re also a lot alike.”
“Like the dolphins.”
“Yes. They live a full, beautiful life. So can we.”
“How?”
“The way I see it, there’s just one answer.” He reached across her body, gripped her left hand, and stroked her ring finger. Then he looked into her eyes, took a breath, and dropped down to one knee. “I love you, Carly. Apart from the miracle you worked with the kids, you’ve worked a miracle in me, too. I see the world differently because of you. You’ve given me a new life, hope for the future—”
“Ryan, stop.”
“Marry me, Carly. Be my wife.”
Tears flooded her eyes. Choking on a sob, she covered her mouth with one hand and shook her head.
“I know I’m asking a lot of you.” He lifted her free hand from her lap. “We’d have to live in Los Angeles, but you could finish school. Kentucky’s just a flight away. We could go for Christmases. You could visit anytime you wanted.”
Every word pounded another nail, because geography was the least of their problems.
Undeterred, he squeezed her fingers. “Say yes. It’s the only way.”
She tried to say something, anything to stop the craziness, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Needing a glimpse of God, she focused on the dying sun shooting gold beams across the horizon. The churning waves filled her ears with the roar and hush of life. Beauty surrounded her, but so did the coming darkness.
Ryan remained on one knee. In the distance a sea lion barked a hoarse, lonely cry. The breeze riffled through his dark hair. When she didn’t reply, he hauled himself up to his full height and put his hands on his hips. “It looks like I have some persuading to do.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Annoyed with his height and his certainty, she leaped to her feet and took three steps before pivoting to face him. “I don’t take marriage lightly.”
“Neither do I.”
“I know.” He worked hard to show his love, both to her and to the kids. “It’s just that you and I don’t see things the same way.”
“What things?”
“Almost everything!” She threw up her hands in frustration. “A man and woman need a common foundation. They need to work together to build a future, to be a family, even to decide on who takes out the trash. I’m not sure we have that.”
“I am.”
She longed to believe him but couldn’t stop thinking about the ocean eating away the island. “Convince me,” she pleaded with him. “How can this work?”
He jammed his hands in the pockets of his Levis and rocked back on his heels. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. We already live in the same house, and we’ve dealt with some tough problems. We know each other better than a lot of couples do. But most important, I love you, Carly. I’d take a bullet for you, and I think you’d do the same for me. I know you’d do it for the kids, because that’s who you are.”
“I would,” she admitted.
He paused. “Your turn. Tell me what’s missing.”
If she spoke from her heart, would he look down on her? Call her closed-minded? Even mock her for believing in a God he put in the same category as the tooth fairy? She thought of his soul, and she knew unequivocally that she had to test his respect by speaking from her heart, as foolish as she might sound.
“You don’t share my faith,” she said simply. “It’s important to me.”
“I know that.”
“And I love you for it.” He took a step closer, just one. When she stiffened, he remained three feet away. “I don’t believe in God like you do. That’s true. But I respect your choices. You know that.”
“I do, but those differences matter.” The bluegrass twang came out in full force.
He stood taller, arms folded across his chest. “Name them.”
“Jesus. Forgiveness. Grace.”
Silent, he lifted a brow and waited.
“That’s it,” she said.
“Is that all?” He sounded amused, even superior.
“It’s everything.” Peace wafted over her. “It’s because of what Jesus did on the cross that I am who I am. We love, because He first loved us. If you don’t know what that means, you don’t know me.”
“But I do know you.” He took another step. “You’re the most beautiful, generous, caring woman I’ve ever known.”
“Ryan, don’t—”
He moved closer, then closer still. “We can live your way. Church. Saying grace. Whatever you want to teach the kids is fine—both Penny and the ones we have together.”
He stopped just inches from her. His arms, long and loose, stayed at his sides, but he looked like a lion ready to pounce. If she swayed forward, he’d crush her to his chest and drown her resistance with a kiss as deep and powerful as the first one. She loved this man, wanted him, feared for him. But after all was said and done, they weren’t dolphins.
“I love you,” she said in a quavering voice. “But what you’re describing isn’t enough. It’s not Christianity. Jesus wasn’t just a wise and good teacher, or even a prophet. He was God made flesh so we could have a relationship with Him. What you’re describing is just going through the motions.”
Ryan didn’t say anything. Not a word.
She felt sick inside. “I don’t want to live my way or your way. I want to live God’s way.”
“You can. I’m not stopping you.”
“You don’t understand,” she repeated. “I want God’s way to be our way. I know there are successful marriages where people have different faiths, but I’m just not that way. I need to know the man I love is praying for me, and that he leans on God like I do. I’m sorry, Ryan. But I’m afraid anything less would be a disaster for both of us.”
“Ah, Carly.” He bent his neck, stared at the dirt, and raked his hand through his hair. Finally he met her gaze with a piercing stare of his own. “I love you, Carly Jo. And I think I do understand you.”
Her full name, her true self. But coming from Ryan, it sounded patronizing. “But you don’t. That’s what scares me.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“We’re so different.”
“Not really.” He paused, maybe to consider his next words. “I don’t want to debate religion, but I have to ask a question.”
“What?”
“You’re a Christian, and you believe Christ died for your sins. Right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“So why did you feel so guilty about Allison? It seems to me if you believed in God that strongly, you’d have set that burden down a long time ago. But you didn’t.”
“I’m human. I have feelings.”
“And those feelings trumped your faith.”
“No. That’s not right. It’s just that . . . that . . .” Carly stopped with hollow words dead on her tongue. She was raised in the church. She read her Bible every morning. She’d been baptized in a muddy pond at the age of seven. She had lived her faith as best as she could, but Ryan was spot-on about her failure to accept forgiveness for hurting Allison.
He was so close she could smell the smoke from the camp stove on his skin and hair. He raised one hand, slowly, and trailed his fingers along her jaw. “Deep down, we’re the same. You know that.”
His voice was soft, even kind, but his words scraped away everything she believed about herself. Without meaning to, Ryan had accused her of being a fake. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but the words came out in a confession. “If what you said is true, I’m a hypocrite.”
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re not a hypocrite. Just naïve.”
“But I’m not naïve. That’s not it.”
“This isn’t important—”
“But it is!” She twisted her neck to escape his touch. “I have to understand.”
He gave her a careful look. “All right, then. Here’s a diagnosis for you—”
“A what?”
“A diagnosis,” he repeated. “A scientific determination, a description of a condition.”
Carly gaped at him. “Christianity isn’t a condition, and it’s certainly not a disease.”
“No, but it is a state of mind. You believe in God because it’s how you were raised. It’s in your emotional DNA, and that’s okay. We’re all shaped by our upbringing, society, and our physical makeup.”
“And our choices.”
“Yes. Especially those. The way I see it, we’ve both made mistakes and learned from them. We love and respect each other. What more do we need?”
All her life, she’d viewed herself as a sincere believer, not a Sunday-only Christian spouting Bible verses off coffee cups. Now she wondered if Ryan was correct, and if her faith in God was more habit than holy. Alone and lost, she blurted, “I want to go home.”
“We will. Tomorrow.”
“No.” Her heart pounded against her ribs. “I mean home to Kentucky. I need to see my dad.”
A pleased look softened the lines around his eyes and mouth. “I talked to him.”
Carly gaped at him. “When?”
“Yesterday. I called to invite him for a visit. It seemed like the right thing to do before I popped the question like I just did.” He gave a sheepish half smile. “I jumped the gun here, but I’m not sorry.”
Carly’s heart melted a little. He’d called her dad to show respect, and she appreciated it. “That was nice of you. But I still want to go home. I feel so lost.”
He grasped her hands and held tight. “We can be lost together.”
But she didn’t want to be lost. She wanted to be found. And to be found, she needed to smell the loamy earth and gaze at real clouds painted on God’s canvas of blue sky. She slipped her hands out of his, slowly, aware of every scrape of skin. “I’ll book a flight when we get to the house.”
“When do you want to go?”
“As soon as possible.” She’d have to dip into her savings for a last-minute ticket, but she needed to see her father that badly. “I’m sure Denise will help with Penny.”
“No doubt,” he muttered. “How long will you be gone?”
“Not long.” Classes started in September, and if she decided to move out of Ryan’s house, she’d need time to find an apartment in a safe neighborhood. She hated the thought of leaving Ryan and the kids, especially Penny, but living under his roof was just too much now.
The sun was almost gone, and the sky was purple with just a strip of lavender on the horizon. “We need to go back to camp,” she said to him.
A frown creased his brow, barely visible in the fading light. “What do we tell Penny?”
“Just that I’m visiting my dad in Kentucky and I’ll be back soon. She’ll be okay as long as we don’t make a big deal about it.”
“And then?”
“We’ll deal with the rest when I come back.”
Ryan closed the last few inches between them, then cupped her face again in his warm hands. “Go home to Kentucky, Carly Jo. But promise me you’ll come back.”
“I will.”
“And know this”—his fingers tunneled into her hair—“I’m going to fight for you with everything I have. If it means wrestling with God, I’ll do it.”
“Ryan, I—”
“I love you.” He tipped her head back, drew her fully into his arms, then brought his mouth down to hers in a crushing kiss.
Carly swayed into him, clutched his back, his shoulders, and returned the kiss with all the love and longing in her soul. If this was her only taste of “special and forever,” she wanted it to be branded on her heart in all its bittersweet glory.