Chapter Twenty-Five
HOLLY DIDN’T WANT TO MOVE, TO THINK. EVEN AS THE COLD seeped into her boots and snow settled on her hair, she couldn’t seem to let go of Lydia.
Her gift.
She had come so close to losing her.
Lydia could have been hit by a car on the darkened streets. She could have slipped into a snowbank or fallen into the river or been attacked by a mountain lion.
Holly had always considered her child a miracle but now that word held an even deeper meaning.
She was filled with blinding joy that they had found her. He had found Lydia. If Ryan hadn’t acted on instinct and suggested they stop here, it might have been hours before anyone thought to check the park.
“We should let Lydia’s dad and his family know we found her so they can call off the search and let people go back to enjoying Christmas Eve,” Ryan suggested.
Hot protests rose in her throat but she swallowed them down. He was right, though one part of her wanted Troy to suffer as long as possible. If he had been paying attention to their daughter, none of this would have happened.
That was unnecessarily cruel, though. He was no doubt as sick with fear as she had been.
“Yes. You’re right.”
“We should also head to your SUV so we can turn on the heater and warm her up. I’ll carry her. You can call Troy on the way.”
Though she didn’t want to relinquish her child for a moment, she knew her daughter would be safe with Ryan.
With great reluctance, she handed Lydia over to him. Her daughter beamed her generous smile and threw her arms around his neck. He squeezed her in return, looking humbled and gratified by her trust and clear affection.
He carried her toward the vehicle, the two of them looking so right together it made her heart hurt.
Lydia would be as heartbroken as Holly when he returned to San Diego.
That was a worry for another day. Right now, she wanted to focus on the miracle of having her daughter with her, safe and whole.
With fingers that trembled from both the cold and the emotional trauma of the past half hour, she pulled out her phone and called Troy’s number.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “Brittany told me she called and you were on the way. I thought you would be here by now.”
He sounded as frantic as she had been.
“We’re at Spruce Creek Park.”
“Why?”
“Ryan had a hunch and it paid off. We found her. She’s safe, Troy.”
He uttered the same relieved words she did, both an exclamation of relief and a prayer of gratitude. “How did she get clear over there?”
“I guess she walked. It’s only a block or so from your parents’ house. She wanted to see the big Christmas tree again, apparently. Please tell everyone she’s safe and we’re on our way.”
She heard him yell the news to his family and loud exclamation of relief from what sounded like dozens of people.
“We’ll see you soon,” she said, even as some part of her wanted to load up her child into her car and drive her home to Shelter Springs.
They didn’t have her booster seat, as Holly had given it to Troy to use. She had to be content with securing her in the back seat with only a seat belt.
Not wanting to let her daughter out of her sight, even for a second, she slid into the back seat with her.
Moments later, before the heater even had time to warm the interior of the vehicle, Ryan was following her directions to the Moore house and pulling into their driveway.
Dozens of people—all of Troy’s family—waited for them in the driveway. As soon as she unlatched her daughter’s seat belt and helped her out of the vehicle, a huge resounding cheer rose from the crowd.
Lydia looked startled and more than a little confused at all the attention. Troy rushed toward them and scooped her up in his arms, much as Holly had done. He buried his face in Lydia’s neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”
She blinked at him. “Why, Daddy?”
“I should have been paying more attention to where you were. But you can’t run off like that. You scared everyone.”
Troy was actually crying. Tears at the corner of his eyes reflected the Christmas lights from his parents’ house. Seeing his reaction, Holly’s anger drained away like snow melting under the first warm rays of spring.
Her ex-husband loved their child. He might not be as easy or comfortable around her as Holly would like, or as cognizant of the challenges ahead of her. He still loved her and wanted the world for her, the same as Holly did.
“You found her. Thank you. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I would never have thought of the park. She asked me earlier if we could go see the big Christmas tree but I didn’t know which one she meant.”
He could have asked her. Lydia was very good at communicating her needs and wants, as long as someone was patient and calm.
Her grandparents hurried through the crowd of people. “Oh, honey. I’m so glad you’re safe,” Susan said. She was crying as well, which touched Holly.
Like Lydia’s father, the Moore family didn’t always know the best way to support her with all her challenges, but they loved her and were trying.
“Let’s go inside where it’s warm. Now that we have her back, we don’t have to stand out here in the snow,” Norm said gruffly.
“I don’t know.” Norm’s sister Nadine looked up at the night sky and the softly swirling snowflakes. “Now that we know she’s safe, it’s kind of magical out here, isn’t it? With the stars and the snow and the Christmas lights.”
They all seemed to appreciate anew the beauty of this Christmas Eve. A hush fell over the family as they looked around, taking in the surrounding mountains and the tall evergreen trees.
Holly wasn’t sure who started singing “Silent Night,” possibly Troy’s grandmother Nona. But soon everyone else joined in, a family united in gratitude that spanned generations.
Even a woman she didn’t know in the Haven Point Police Department uniform sang along.
When they reached the line about “all is calm, all is bright,” Holly felt more tears spill out. The words had never resonated so hard in her heart.
“Can I have some hot chocolate?” Lydia finally said when the song ended.
“You can have all the hot chocolate you want,” Susan promised her. Lydia’s grandfather took her hand and they led the way into their home.
Ryan, she suddenly noticed, stood nearby, slightly on the fringe of the group but still offering his silent support.
Troy pulled her aside as most of his family members returned to the house, though a few seemed to want to prolong the moment and stayed outside.
“I am so very sorry, Hol. I’m an idiot. I know Lydia needs to be watched more carefully than other children but I got distracted by the game we were playing and thought she was doing fine with her cousins. I should have made sure.”
This self-flagellation seemed a huge step for a man who never liked to admit he was wrong.
“We found her. That’s the important thing.”
His jaw worked as he looked between her and Ryan.
“Look, if you want to take her home to have Christmas Eve with you, I completely understand. All the things you sent her from Santa are still boxed up. We could load them into the back of your SUV along with her other things and you could head back to Shelter Springs. Everyone would understand.”
Oh, it was tempting. Some part of her still wanted to grab Lydia, pack her into her car and never allow visitation with her father again.
She couldn’t.
He had made a mistake. She certainly made plenty as Lydia’s mother. She wasn’t perfect. No parent was. What mattered most was that Troy was trying. After this night and the trauma of losing track of his child, somehow Holly suspected Troy would be hypervigilant now.
She shook her head and managed a smile. “No. We can stick with the plan. You’re all set to have her here and she’s still excited to spend the night with you and Brittany.”
“Are you sure?”
She gave a short laugh. “Not really. When can we ever be a hundred percent sure about anything? But somehow it feels right.”
She certainly hadn’t been sure about marrying him but she had done it anyway. That marriage might have been the biggest mistake of her life, but out of that failure had come the most priceless gift imaginable.
Yes, if she had given in to her doubts and not married him, she wouldn’t have had to go through the pain and loss of their divorce.
But she also wouldn’t have the indescribable joy of being Lydia’s mom.
“Merry Christmas, Troy.”
He hugged her. Brittany, who had remained in the background throughout their conversation, stepped forward to hug her, too.
“Thank you. We will take better care of her, I promise,” she said.
“I’m sure you will. I’ll just go say goodbye.”
When she went inside, she found Lydia holding court in the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and happily enjoying a sugar cookie and a mug of cocoa.
“I’m going home now, honey.”
“You’re not going to sleep over, too?”
She shook her head. “You will have so much fun with your daddy and Brit and Hudson. Merry Christmas, honey. I love you. Don’t leave on your own like that again, okay? Promise me.”
“I promise, Mommy.”
She hugged her daughter tightly, said goodbye to all the Moores and walked outside.
She found Ryan still standing in the driveway, looking completely comfortable as he chatted with two of the aunts, who were bundled up against the cold.
Love for him burned through her like a crackling fire on a cold night, warming all the frozen places inside her.
“Everything good?” he asked.
Not really. You are going to leave my heart in a hundred little pieces.
She forced a smile. “Yes. I’m ready to head back to Shelter Springs whenever you are.”
He looked surprised. “You’re not taking Lydia home with you? I thought for sure you wouldn’t want her to stay here without you, after everything that happened.”
“She is still excited about spending Christmas Eve with her father and his family. I don’t want to take that away from her.”
She could tell he disagreed. He opened his mouth but after a long moment, he closed it again, pressing his lips together as if to hold back the words. Instead, he held open the passenger door of her SUV then went around to the driver’s side.
While this was her vehicle, she didn’t mind him taking charge and driving them back to Shelter Springs, as he had done on their panicked way here. She found comfort, actually, that he seemed to want to take care of her.
“You are amazing, Holly Moore,” he said as he backed out of the driveway and turned onto the lakeside drive leading toward home.
“Ha. I’m not. You know I’m not. When I found out Lydia was missing, I was a complete wreck.”
“So was I. And I’m not her mom.”
She found comfort in that as well, in knowing he cared about her daughter—and about her —enough to immediately spring into action as he had.
Suddenly exhausted by the stress of the evening, she leaned back against the seat.
To her shock, Ryan reached out and folded his fingers around hers.
He didn’t let go as he continued to drive through the night while the sound of Christmas music played on the radio and a deep sense of peace settled over her like a warm quilt, soft and all-encompassing.
Somehow she must have dozed off at some point in the drive, or maybe her body only needed a reset after the stressful evening. When she sensed cessation of movement, she opened her eyes and was shocked to see they were in the driveway of Rose Cottage.
Her Christmas tree gleamed a welcome in the window.
“I can take you to Kim’s so you don’t have to walk home,” she said, remembering she had offered the same thing the night of the wedding, which seemed a hundred years ago.
“I don’t mind walking. While we were still at the Moore house, I called my dad and told him I didn’t need the helo after all and that Lydia had been found. I told him to tell Kim I would be home later.”
“I need to call my family, too. They didn’t even know Lydia was missing.
When I never came back to their house, as I promised, my mom texted me to make sure I was okay.
It was right after we found her. If they had known what was going on, my brothers probably would have beaten us to Haven Point and ripped the town apart, looking for her. ”
He hit her garage with the remote opener and pulled inside, turned off her engine then walked around to open the passenger door for her.
“So are you heading back for your family slumber party now?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”
She suddenly remembered where she and Ryan had been and what they had been doing when she received that fateful call from Brittany. It seemed hours ago that she had been in his arms.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. Thank you,” she said. “You stayed calm when I was freaking out. It was your idea to check the park. I don’t even want to think about the possible outcome if we hadn’t.”
The horrifying magnitude of what might have happened to her baby suddenly burned through her. Holly hitched in a breath that turned into one sob, then another.
Suddenly she was crying, all the emotions of the day pouring out of her. She couldn’t hold back, try as she might.
In an instant, Ryan reached for her, his arms solid and dependable. “Hey. Hey. I’ve got you.”
For how long?
She couldn’t think about that now. For this moment, she only wanted to stand in the circle of his arms, where she felt safe.
Holly pressed her face into his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.
She clung to him, moved beyond words at the way he held her like she was something precious.
Gradually, her sobs slowed then stilled, but she didn’t step away. Christmas Eve, her family, everything else felt far away. Irrelevant in this moment.
All that mattered was Ryan. His warmth, his strength, the steady rhythm of his heart against her cheek. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her fingers still clutching his shirt.
“Thank you,” she whispered again, her voice trembling but full of sincerity. “I don’t know how to—”
He shook his head, his eyes locked on hers. “You don’t have to thank me.”
The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
His words echoed through her memory, as tantalizing now as they had been when he murmured them to her earlier.
Without giving herself time to second-guess, Holly rose on tiptoe, her lips brushing his in a tentative, searching kiss.
For a heartbeat, he froze, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. Then he responded, his arms tightening around her, the kiss deepening into something that felt as inevitable as the snowfall outside.