EMMA STOOD OUTSIDE her home, debating whether to go inside or hop in her car and get something to eat. She really wasn’t hungry, but the idea of explaining to Sheila why she was home so early didn’t appeal to her either.
With a sigh of resignation, she inserted the key into her front door lock. Sheila would certainly want to know what had happened, but she was her best friend. She would understand if Emma didn’t want to talk about it.
“You’re home early,” Sheila said as she walked into the foyer.
Emma smiled sadly as she hung up her jacket. “Yeah, we never made it to dinner. Where’s Nicole?”
“She’s in the family room, coloring.” Sheila studied her face as she absently shook her hand. “Do you want me to go home?”
Emma was surprised to find tears spilling down her cheeks. “Everyone should have a friend like you. Do you know that?”
“Yup. How about I make us some coffee?”
Wiping her tears on the arm of her shirt, Emma nodded and followed her into the kitchen.
***
The brownstone was really beginning to resemble a real home, Ryan thought as he plastered over the channel in the brick wall of the master bedroom. In a few weeks, no one would ever know this house had been such a disaster.
He tensed when footsteps echoed from the stairs. Part of him hoped it was Emma. Another part, the part with some sense, hoped it was anyone else.
The sense part won. He breathed a sigh of relief when Tag entered the room, but from the look on his friend’s face, Emma might have been a better choice after all.
“Hey, bud, how was your night?” he asked as he smoothed out the plaster.
Tag dropped his tool belt and glared at him. “That depends on who you ask.”
Ryan frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, if you ask me, it was one of the worst nights of my life, but if you ask you, I’d say it was one of the better ones.”
Ryan stopped plastering and stared at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? Last night I went home, watched reruns, ate soup and a turkey sandwich, and fell asleep around three. Which is pretty ordinary for me.”
“Emma dumped me.”
A jolt hit Ryan’s stomach, but he wasn’t sure whether it was from relief, sorrow, or maybe a little bit of both. “Aw, man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”
Tag curled his lip. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“How can you say that?”
“You and I both know you want her.”
Guilt pooled in his stomach. “Yeah, okay, so I have feelings for her, but I never planned to steal her from you.”
“Really? So you never tried to kiss her?”
Tried and succeeded, but how could he respond to that? Apparently, his silence did it for him.
“I knew it!”
Ryan ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Look, it’s not what it seems.”
“I want off this job site.”
He stopped his frustrating gesture and stared at Tag. Oh, God, this was one of his worst nightmares. “What? No, I commissioned you to do this job, and you’re going to finish it.”
“Then I’ll send one of my guys over to finish it, but I’m not staying here to watch you and Emma make lovey-dovey with each other. I can’t stomach it, and I can’t stomach you either.”
Ryan felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. His friend was hurting, and it was his fault. “Then I’ll go.”
Tag looked at him as if he’d sniffed too much boric acid. “You can’t go. This is your job site. They need you here.”
“I have a job starting in Harlem day after tomorrow. I’ll send one of my foremen over here to finish up.” He looked out the window, toward the Brooklyn Bridge, and quickly looked away. “I don’t belong here anyway.”
Ryan never thought their friendship was actually in trouble until Tag simply nodded and, without a word, got to work.
***
“You’re a hard man to track down today.” Emma hoped to sound lighthearted as she caught up with Ryan. The afternoon sun hid behind storm clouds, and the wind whipped through the trees.
He barely glanced at her before continuing up the block toward Montague Street. “I’ve been busy.”
Emma followed on his heels, wishing she had thought to grab her jacket before bolting after him. The breeze was chilly today. “I was wondering if we could get together and go over those letters again.”
He stopped in his tracks and finally turned to her. His long hair, pulled back into a small ponytail, was blowing free of its band. With the sky so dark, his penetrating eyes looked more intense than ever. She decided she would never get used to this forceful look of his. It would always have the ability to make her knees buckle. But, as sexy as he looked, he seemed very unapproachable.
“I have plans tonight.”
“Then how about lunch tomorrow, or tomorrow night—”
“No, Emma, I don’t have time for these games anymore. I have a lot to do before tomorrow.”
Why was he looking at her as if she’d just kicked his dog? Did he even have a dog? “What games? We have to figure out why the Lady in the Shawl needed me to find those letters.”
“No, you need to figure it out. I have a struggling business to keep afloat.”
Emma’s throat closed up. “But we’re partners, remember? We’ve been in this together from the beginning.”
“Things change.”
“What about Betsy?”
He started to walk again. “Betsy will be fine.”
“That’s not what the Lady in the Shawl said.”
“That was probably just your imagination.”
Her jaw dropped. “How can you say that? You saw her!”
“Yes, I saw her, but I’m thinking you imagined the conversation you had with her.”
Emma grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop and face her. “Oh, so now we’re back to the ‘mindless woman’ crap again? If I hadn’t spoken to her, how did I know to look behind the mirror?”
“You’ve proven to be a bit prophetic. Maybe it was a vision.”
“My visions don’t talk to me.”
Ryan rubbed his temples. “Look, I have a lot to do before I leave this job site, so if you don’t mind—”
“What do you mean, leave? The job’s not done.”
“I know that, but I won’t be here to finish it. I’ll have one of my foremen take over. This will probably be the last time I’m here until it’s completely finished.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. Her stomach twisted into knots. “So you’re leaving, just like that.”
“Yes, just like that.”
She tried to get a read on his emotions, but he kept avoiding her eyes.
Finally she gave up, and without a word, Emma spun on her heel and walked back to the brownstone, thankful for the numbness that embraced her.
***
“Isn’t it wonderful how things are slowly but surely falling apart?” Hilary said, the joy in her voice almost bouncing off the walls. “Tag and Emma have parted. Tag thinks it’s all Ryan’s doing. Ryan and Tag can barely look at each other, and Emma thinks Ryan has deserted her.” She turned to Ruby and smirked. “You’re the one who reads minds. Tell me, does that just about sum it up?”
Ruby said nothing. What Hilary said was true. Nothing was working out the way she’d hoped, and all because of one angry, hateful spirit.
If Ruby had gone into the light the day they’d released her from the fireplace, Emma and Ryan might have had a chance. Instead she had to be selfish. She told herself it was because of the malevolent spirit she’d felt, but in truth she had wanted to feel, just one last time, the joy that came along with pairing soul mates.
Now the secret behind the letters would never be revealed. Ryan and Emma would never be together. Tag and Ryan would probably drift even further apart, and Betsy-- dear, sweet Betsy-- would be in danger of facing Hilary’s wrath. If Betsy survived long enough, she’d have no choice but to move. What if Hilary attached herself to Betsy, or to Emma? So many things could go horribly wrong for her dear niece and for the two soul mates she’d grown to love.
Watching as Ryan and Emma cleaned up for the day, Ruby sank to the floor. They looked so very sad, so lost. She wished with all her being she could embrace them and whisper everything would be all right. She couldn’t. Whatever it was Emma and Ryan were using to keep Hilary at bay had the same effect on her.
All she could do was lower her head into her hands and cry, while Hilary hovered above her, laughing.
***
The silver Jag in her driveway caused Emma to pull down the visor in her car and look in the mirror. She could have hidden her red, swollen eyes from Nicole, maybe even Sheila, but no way could she hide her dismay from her former husband. She’d never succeeded in hiding anything from him during their marriage--which, Emma felt, was the right of every wife. That was probably one of the reasons she’d divorced the man.
Searching through her jacket pockets, she pulled out the baggie filled with herbs Sheila had given her. Tossing that aside, she dug deeper until she came upon an old crumpled tissue. She wiped her eyes and then blew her nose, deciding it was time to be like every other woman in the world and carry a pocketbook.
She had no idea why she was crying. What’s the big deal anyway? So Ryan wasn’t going to be at the job site anymore and he’d given her no reason why. So he wasn’t going to help her solve the mystery of the letters. So he didn’t seem to care one way or the other about her.
Big deal!
With more defiance than she’d felt in a while, Emma climbed from her car, telling herself she had needed a good cry for a long time, and now was as good a time as any.
Okay, crying time over. Go inside, grab your child, greet your ex-husband, and make something scrumptious for dinner.
She bit her lower lip to keep her chin from trembling. Scrumptious? When had she started using words like scrumptious? That damn Mary Poppins again.
“Mommy!” Nicole, carrying Emma’s favorite stuffed Blue doll, threw herself at her and hugged her tighter than vise grips holding two pipes together.
“Hello, my angel.” Angel. Ryan always called Nicole that.
“Where have you been? You’re late, and Sheila couldn’t babysit because her kids are still sick so Daddy had to come over and watch me, and you know I love Daddy but after work he just sits and plays that stupid game on the computer.”
Emma smiled softly as she took Blue from her daughter, listening to Nicole chatter on about her afternoon. She hugged the stuffed blue dog to her chest, thanking the Lord above she had someone who’d always take her mind off her troubles.
“Hey, you. It’s about time you got home,” Jared said from the doorway of her office. “I’d better get dinner out of this.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, give me a break, you love coming here, and you know it.”
He chuckled. “Does that mean I don’t get dinner?”
Something tugged at her hand. “Yes, you still get dinner. I was just going to make pasta and meat sauce anyway.”
“Ma-ahm!”
Emma looked down to find her daughter yanking on the doll in her hand. “Can I have Blue back, please?”
But it’s my Blue! she wanted to shout, but thought better of it since she was the adult. “Why don’t you put her back on Mommy’s bed?”
The smile Nicole gave her was much too knowing for a child her age. “Okay, Mommy. I’ll make sure she gets put back safe and sound.”
The smirk on Jared’s face as Nicole fled the room didn’t make her feel much better.
Emma headed for the kitchen and over to the sink to wash her hands. “You’re going to help me cook, right?”
Leaning a hip against her counter, he studied his perfect hands. “So, what’s up? Why were you crying?”
Even to her own ears, her laughter sounded forced. “What makes you think that?”
“Because you didn’t say ‘I wasn’t crying, you weirdo.’ Plus, your eyes and nose are red.”
Damn eye doctors anyway.
Drying her hands on a towel, she thought of a quick answer that wouldn’t beg more questions. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately, and I was in need of a cathartic cleansing.” Oh, yeah, that should satisfy him.
Jared reached into the fridge and pulled out lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, and a large red onion. He was silent while he gathered the knife, peeler, and cutting board and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table. He started peeling the cucumber.
Taking that as a sign she’d managed to quell his curiosity, she took out the pots she would need to cook dinner.
“So how’s work?”
Emma cringed. She should’ve known better. “It’s good. We’re on schedule, and I think everything is coming out beautifully.”
“Uh huh, and how’s Nicole?”
She watched the water slowly fill the spaghetti pot. “She’s also doing well. She scored an ‘A’ on that project we helped her with.”
“How’re things with Tag?”
“We won’t be seeing each other anymore.”
“Hmm, that must’ve been a fun conversation. How’s Ryan?”
Emma nearly dropped the pot in her hands.
Jared tapped the peeler against the cutting board. “Ah, okay. I knew it had to be one of those four.”
“Why would you ask about Ryan? I just work with the guy.” She turned on the flame under the pot, added salt, and sat down across from Jared.
He chomped on a slice of carrot. “I think that’s best answered by you explaining why the mention of his name almost caused you to flood the floor with tonight’s dinner.”
She shrugged and then sat on her shaking hands.
“So, when are you two getting together?”
“We’re not getting together. Why are you obsessing about this?”
“Because you’re in love with the guy.”
“What? I most certainly am not!”
Jared didn’t say anything. He simply raised his eyebrows and went on shredding the lettuce.
Okay, maybe she did love him, but that didn’t mean he was the right guy for her. The man drove her crazy, running hot and cold all the time. He never seemed to be able to make up his mind, and at times, he seemed frightened of his own shadow. She understood why, but still, it was frustrating.
But none of that seemed to matter.
Could she deal with his mood swings? Deal with his emotional baggage, his night terrors, his inability to do or commit to anything, if the outcome was even the slightest bit unknown?
It didn’t take long for her to answer her own questions. As the questions grew, so did the glow of love for him.
Yes. Yes, to all of it. She could help him, be patient with him, and even if he was never one hundred percent, she would love and adore him for who he was. Because this was the man who went ghost hunting with her, the man who didn’t run when she was locked in a room with an angry spirit, the man who could make her knees buckle with one smoldering look.
He really was much braver than he gave himself credit for. He dealt with her.
All the bones in her body seemed to evaporate. Her shoulders slumped. She laid her arms on the table and lowered her head onto them. “Okay, I’m in love with him. I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my entire life.”
“I’m going to try not to be insulted by that.”
“I’d appreciate that.” She raised her head and looked at him.
“I approve,” he said with a smile, “and I believe, so would our little girl.”
Emma sat up with her head leaning against the wall behind her. “Yeah, well, save your blessings. He’s not interested.”
“Is Nicole around?”
Confused, she scanned the room and then shook her head.
“Okay, good. Bullshit, he’s not interested. That man looked at you like you were the reason the sun rose every morning.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes. Oh, if only she could believe that. “You’re mistaken. And even if he did feel that way, there’s no chance of us ever getting together.”
“Why not? Because of Tag?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, how did you know?”
“I figured that out the first time I met him.”
“So you know it’s a lost cause.”
He glanced over his shoulder.
She sighed. “No, she’s still not here.”
“That’s bullshit also. I’ve known you a very long time, my dear. I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. You’ve never settled for the road of least resistance. Why do it now?”
“Because if I fail, I might never be the same person again.”
Putting down the knife, Jared reached over and took her hand. “Emma, we divorced because you knew there had to be something more out there, someone who could drive you crazy one minute and sweep you off your feet the next.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is I’d consider it a personal insult if you dissolved our marriage to find that special someone and then, when you finally succeeded, didn’t do all you could to get him.”
Snatching a napkin from its holder, she dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, Jared, there’s so much you don’t know.”
He sat back with his hands clasped behind his head. “Try me.”
The floodgates opened, and Emma couldn’t figure out how to close them again. She told Jared everything—about the time she first met Ryan, and how they’d instantly clashed; about the ghosts, the tension, and her dates with Tag. The only thing she didn’t mention was Ryan’s nightmares.
By the time her confessions ended, Jared looked as if he’d just witnessed a ten-car pile-up. “You have an angry ghost after you?”
Emma laughed. “After all I just told you, that’s what you focus on?” She rose to her feet to check the water.
“Well, come on. That’s kinda eerie.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Finally her tears dried up and a smile returned to her face. Leaning against the counter, she studied her hands. “Thanks for listening and not calling me crazy.”
Jared stood up and kissed her cheek. “I’ll only call you crazy if you let Ryan go without a fight.”
As her ex put the salad in the fridge to chill, she thought about what he’d said. Would she always regret it if she didn’t at least find out how Ryan felt? He was no longer on the job site, so if he laughed in her face, what was the worst that could happen?
Oh, nothing. I’ll just have my heart broken into a thousand pieces. But if he didn’t laugh, if he took her in his arms and swore he’d never let her go, she’d have the one thing she’d been looking for all her life.