Chapter Seventeen
A LIGHT SNOW DUSTED THE WINDSHIELD AS RYAN DROVE PAST towering spruce and fir on his way around the lake to Haven Point.
This area of the country was undeniably pretty, especially covered in a blanket of snow that glinted in the sunlight like a scatter of gems.
For a guy used to spending Christmas flying somewhere over the Pacific or heading to the beach for an early-morning surf if he was at home, this change of season held an undeniable appeal.
He could understand why Kim and his dad and Diane seemed to like it so much here. Something about the Lake Haven area sucked a person in.
It was hard for him to truly enjoy the view, though. He was still kicking himself for his actions the night before.
He should never have kissed Holly.
He might have put their first kiss down to a one-off, a momentary lapse of judgment.
The night before had been different. He had thought about kissing her all evening as they walked through the market.
He had been enchanted by her and by Lydia and kissing her again had seemed inevitable, especially when she had looked so soft and sweet in the moonlight.
I spent nearly a decade with a man who was absolutely the wrong person for me. You can be sure I’m in no hurry to walk that road again.
Their conversation in the store replayed through his mind. She was right. Like her ex-husband, Ryan was another man who was completely wrong for her. No question.
While he wasn’t thrilled his sister apparently had talked about him at length with Holly, he couldn’t disagree with anything Kim had told her. He had no intention of developing a serious relationship with anybody. Ever.
He had figured out a long time ago that he wasn’t cut out for it. The women he’d dated in the past had been quick to point it out. He had a tendency to keep his emotions locked up tight, like classified files he never gave anyone authorization to access.
They weren’t wrong. He’d always assumed it was a self-protective mechanism, a scar left behind from losing his mother when he was really too young and immature to make sense of it.
From those years in military school, when any hint of vulnerability, of weakness, turned someone into a victim.
And from the years of navigating his father’s sharp edges and colder silences.
The kind of picket-fence, happy-ever-after relationship she deserved wasn’t for a man like him.
And yet, Holly.
She was different. She was warm and steady, with an internal strength that had nothing to do with stubbornness and everything to do with how fiercely she loved the people in her life.
He could see it in the way she cared for Lydia, in how she smiled even when it was clear the world had given her every reason not to. She deserved someone who could match that strength, someone who could give her all the things she gave so easily.
Someone who wasn’t him.
There was also the small matter of the life he’d built for himself.
All the promotional brochures were right.
His career in the navy was more than a job.
It was a calling. It demanded everything.
His time, his focus, his freedom to move wherever the next assignment took him.
Holly’s life, her roots, were firmly planted in Shelter Springs.
She had Lydia to think about, a home she’d worked hard to create.
He couldn’t ask her to leave all of that.
She deserved better. No matter how much he wanted to kiss her again, to stay lost in the warmth of her laughter, the pull of her gaze. Wanting didn’t change anything.
He had to wonder why that should leave him feeling as if the sun had been swallowed by dark, ominous clouds.
He turned his attention to the task at hand, which was the way he had been taught by the colonel’s example to deal with any tough emotions.
Subvert everything and do what you have to do.
The flowers were for someone named Eliza Caine.
He followed the address to a huge house on a slope overlooking town.
While the property looked exclusive and prosperous, there was a warm, homey feeling to it.
A trio of snowmen in different sizes adorned the yard, wearing brightly colored scarves and hats.
Several bird feeders hung from the trees and a couple of horses raced along a fence line as he approached the house.
After pulling the large arrangement from his truck, he carried it to the front door and rang the doorbell.
After about thirty seconds the door opened and an adorable little girl with curly blond hair gazed back at him.
She held a stuffed unicorn in one hand and, oddly, an umbrella in the other.
The scent of sugar cookies and pine trees and cinnamon wafted through the open door, reminding him sharply of the appealing scent at Rose Cottage.
“Hi,” she chirped in a friendly voice.
“Hi there. Is your mom or dad around?”
“My mom,” she said, making no move to do anything other than smile at him.
“Could you... get her for me?”
She appeared to consider this for a moment then nodded. As she turned to go, a woman hurried around the corner.
“I’m sorry. We’ve told her not to open the door by herself but she loves hearing the doorbell ring. How can I help you.”
“I’m looking for Eliza Caine.”
“That’s me.”
“Then these are for you,” he said, holding out the mini-Christmas tree of flowers.
“Oh, they’re lovely! Who sent them?”
“I’m not sure. I only deliver.”
She took them, looking at the card with its elegant logo. “They’re from Evergreen and Ivy? I love their stuff. They’re gorgeous. Please tell whoever created the arrangement how grateful I am for their hard work.”
“I’ll do that, ma’am,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, setting the arrangement on a console table in the hallway and scooping up her daughter, unicorn and all.
“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”
After refusing the tip she tried to press on him, he walked down the steps, feeling an odd ache of longing somewhere inside him.
He had only had a brief glimpse into that house. He didn’t know anything about the people who lived there. For all he knew, they could be selfish, terrible people or bitterly discontented or struggling with hidden trials.
But in that one tiny fragment of time, the woman had seemed so warm and friendly and... happy. The little girl had been cheerful and cute. The house had radiated welcome.
He wanted that.
He thought of his condo in California, where he came home to an emptiness each night. He had never considered himself lonely. He had plenty of close friends and could always pick up the phone and find someone to hang with.
Since coming to Idaho, he had begun to see that the emptiness of his condo mirrored the emptiness of his life. He suddenly yearned for something else.
He returned to his truck and headed back to the main road. He turned in the direction of his father’s house, wishing he had another flower delivery to make.
He didn’t want to talk to Doug that day but unfortunately he still needed something to wear to the wedding.
He should have driven into Boise some time over the past few weeks to pick up a new suit. It had seemed silly, though, when he had a perfectly good suit hanging in his closet back in California, as well as his dress uniforms that served for most occasions.
Good thing he and his dad were the same size, though he expected his shoulders might be a little broader than his father’s.
His father opened the door before Ryan could ring the doorbell, almost as if he had been watching for him from the moment Ryan had texted as he left Shelter Springs to let him know he was on his way.
“Come in, son. Come in. We were about to have lunch. Would you care for some soup?”
He almost automatically refused but that seemed rude, especially when his father was loaning him a suit.
“Sure. Soup sounds good.”
“Great. Hope you don’t mind eating on a tray in the family room with Diane. The dining chairs aren’t very comfortable for her so we’re still eating most of our meals in there.”
“I don’t mind. How’s she doing today?”
“She had physical therapy this morning and that’s always draining.”
He knew a thing or two about physical therapy. As if in sympathy, his knee began to ache and it took all his powers of concentration not to limp.
His stepmother sat in her recliner again, with a book spread out on her lap. When she saw him, her face lit up and she smiled, closing the book and setting it on the small table next to her.
“Ryan, darling. It’s so good to see you.”
“You are looking lovely,” he told her truthfully. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, gratified to see her bruises had faded and her eyes seemed brighter, less dulled by pain.
“I’ve been meaning to call and check on things. How are you? How is everything going with Audrey?”
He considered it a mark of Diane’s strong character that even though she was dealing with her own troubles, she was first concerned with others around her.
“She’s good. I am, too.”
“You’re sure Audrey’s all right? I’ve been texting with her and she assures me she’s fine but I’ve been so worried about her. She must miss Kim desperately. They’re very close.”
“You don’t need to worry. Yes, she misses Kim, but she understands her mother is working to get better for both their sakes.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. Have you talked to Kim?”
“I spoke with her a few days ago. She said she’s making progress and is feeling much better, physically and mentally. Unfortunately, she’s still not sure if she’ll be able to come home before Christmas.”
“Your father has talked to her a few times,” Diane said. “I’m afraid she still blames herself for the accident, no matter how many times I tell her it wasn’t her fault. The other driver ran a red light. No one could have prevented what happened except that driver who was on his cell phone.”
Before he could answer, his father came in carrying a tray loaded with food, which he set down on the coffee table across from Ryan.