One Summerhill Day (The Summerhill Series Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Ryan stood up as soon as he saw Cait walk through the door of the diner. Damn, but she even looked great in scrubs. As soon as she slid in the seat across from him, he said, “First day go okay?”

“Yeah, I wanted to get to know the hospital and the department a bit before orientation.”

“How’d it go?”

“Actually, other than one thing, everything went very well. Your sister is my preceptor, and I know we’ll get along great.”

“And the one thing?”

“Oh, just a nurse I had a couple of run-ins with. Mallory says it’s not uncommon for this particular woman.”

“Mallory won’t let anyone walk all over her. You shouldn’t either.” Ryan waved to a couple he recognized as they walked through the front door.

“I won’t. I held my ground.”

Ryan shook his head. “I’ll never understand why some nurses are such bitches.”

“It happens frequently. Now they call it bullying. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it in orientation next week.”

The waitress came over, and they both placed their orders.

As soon as she left, Cait said, “So…you said you have news?”

Ryan sat up straight in his seat. This wasn’t going to be easy, but Cait had already known her aunt was dead, so that part wouldn’t come as a surprise. He decided to plunge ahead. “I checked on your aunt in Buffalo. She died in a car accident last December. Black ice, nothing suspicious.” Well, there was nothing suspicious on the report. He had his own thoughts, but he wasn’t ready to share them with her yet. Of course, he had found out quite a bit about her husband, too, but since he’d done that research on his own volition, he didn’t feel it was his place to tell her what he’d discovered. He reached for her hand and covered it with his. “I’m sorry, Cait.”

“Oh, a car accident?” She was quiet for a moment, and Ryan could tell her mind was churning with a million questions.

Guessing what she would ask next, he said, “She died instantly, Cait.”

Her gaze shot up and caught his for an instant, enough for him to see her pain. “Oh, well that’s good, I guess. Thank you, Ryan, for letting me know.”

“I left my name and number with the Buffalo PD in case any issues arise, and I gave them your name as the next of kin. The sergeant I spoke to didn’t know anything about her or the accident. He didn’t remember it, because he wasn’t involved.”

“Okay. Well…” She nodded her head, then reached up to swipe the tears gathering at her lashes. “Well, at least I know.”

They ate in silence, and Ryan couldn’t help but worry about her. “Do you want to catch a movie or something when I get off at ten?”

“No. Thank you, but I think I’d rather be alone tonight.”

Silence descended again while they both picked at their food. He wanted to respect her need to be alone. He hoped her rejection wasn’t directed at him, but just the situation and the timing.

“All right.” Ryan said. “I’ll accept that. You probably had a long, tiring day. But I won’t take no for an answer to this next question. How about if I pick you up in the morning and bring you over to the famous Ramsay picnic at the inn on Saturday.”

“The what?” she grinned.

“My dad and my stepmom have a picnic every Saturday, summer or winter, rain or shine. They claim it’s the only way they can keep track of all of us. It’s always potluck, but my stepmother is a great cook. Mallory will be there and most of my other siblings. Plus my dad has been asking how you’re doing in the new house.”

She nodded. “I would like that. Sure. What time?”

“Can I pick you up around eleven?”

“Sure. Eleven it is.”

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

***

Caitlyn set her phone down and sat staring out of the window overlooking Orenda Lake. It was over. Finally, her marriage to Bruce Dalton was over. She had just finished a conversation with her lawyer, who had informed her that Bruce’s lawyer had accepted the terms of the divorce. Bruce had actually signed the papers. Her lawyer was just waiting to get the papers before it was official.

She was single again.

Bruce hadn’t argued the terms of the divorce either, which surprised her. Her lawyer had insisted on a prenuptial agreement, and Bruce had willingly signed it. But the prenup had specifically stated that if Bruce was ever caught cheating, he would receive no settlement or alimony payment—that he would only be entitled to half of what they’d both made while married.

Bruce hadn’t made much. He had managed a cell phone retail store for half of their marriage, but then he had been fired. He had been job hunting ever since, but he hadn’t found anything. Caitlyn suspected he hadn’t been searching very hard. He had been quite content to stay at home, though he’d refused to do laundry or anything to help her out.

She had been quite naïve about their marriage. One day, Caitlyn had been sent home early from a twelve-hour shift because they were slow. When she pulled into the driveway at their house, she had wondered why her friend’s car was there, but she’d walked into the house without giving it too much thought. There, in the living room, her best friend from the hospital was on her knees servicing her husband, who sat splayed on their couch. Caitlyn had frozen in the doorway, not knowing what to do or say. What was the proper response to such a sight?

At least her friend had appeared to experience a little guilt. She had jumped up, grabbed her bra and shirt (her pants were still on), thrown them on, and ran out the door with a trite, “Sorry,” on the way out.

Bruce hadn’t moved. Instead, he’d actually said, “Oh my God, Caitlyn.”

She’d stayed at a hotel that night and contacted her lawyer in the morning before leaving for Buffalo. She never wanted to see Bruce Dalton again.

Caitlyn had offered to give him the house for two reasons. The first was that she never wanted to go back to Philadelphia. The second was that she wanted no part of that house after what she’d witnessed there, after the unhappy life she’d shared there with her sleazeball ex. Since he was unemployed, and there was no mortgage, maybe it would help guarantee that he’d stay in Philadelphia—and far, far away from her. She’d decided to settle a sizeable sum on him to help him get back on his feet for the same reason.

The sound of the doorbell shook her out of her trance. Ryan had arrived. She smiled and warmth washed through her body, spreading to her fingers and toes.

She answered the door and moved aside so Ryan could come in. He kissed her cheek and moved in past her. “Are you ready?” A few more steps and he whistled. “Cait, how did I not notice the television the other night?” His gaze stopped on the new fifty-inch television. “Nice, Cait, very nice. Do you watch any sports?”

“Yes, I love football. My aunt made me a Bills fan. How about you?”

“We’re all Bills fans here. Too bad they didn’t make it to the Super Bowl.”

“No, but they did have a much better year. My husband liked the Steelers. Now I guess I’ll have to root against them.” She clapped her hand over her mouth.

Ryan gave her a puzzled look.

She dropped her hand to her side. “I promised not to mention my husband again, though I will mention that he agreed to the terms of the divorce and has signed the papers. It’s official. I’m single again once it goes through the court system.”

He crossed the distance between them and cupped her cheeks. He kissed her, a light kiss at first, then he pulled back. “Well then, Caitlyn McCabe, let’s see if I can make you forget him.”

She moaned and leaned into him. He kissed her deeply this time, parting her lips and caressing her tongue with his. Oh, how she loved the taste of this man. She crushed her body to his and her nipples reacted, even through the heavy sweater she had on.

When he ended the kiss, he ran his thumb across her plump bottom lip. “Is that better?”

She sighed. “Yes, much.”

“Your scratches are healing, Cait, but you’re beautiful even with the imperfections.”

She blushed, but didn’t move. The way Ryan looked at her, she felt beautiful.

“Here. I’ll get your coat. When you go to a picnic where there are fourteen or more people present, you need to get there on time or risk missing the best food.” He grabbed her coat from the chair and helped her on with it.

“Then I guess we better hurry, because I’m starved. I slept in late, so I haven’t eaten yet.” She picked up the flowers she had purchased for his stepmother and headed out the door.

As soon as they arrived, a bevy of people rushed outside to greet them. Ryan introduced her to all his siblings: Lauren, Jake, and Mallory, whom she had already met; a brother, Blake; two sisters, Madison and Paige; and his step-siblings Matthew, Chloe, and Daniel. Colton and Lucas were twins, and they were both in the military. “Even though Lauren and Madison are both attending college, they still find their way here for Saturday picnic.”

As soon as he finished, Lauren said, “First test, now repeat all those names.”

Caitlyn attempted, but she forgot a couple.

“You did really well, Caitlyn. I think you should keep her, Ryan,” Chloe said with a mischievous grin.

Once they stepped inside, she greeted Dr. Ramsay, and he introduced his wife, Lorraine, a beautiful older woman who managed to look serene even in the midst of the comfortable chaos of the big house and bigger family. Lorraine thanked Caitlyn for the flowers and headed into the kitchen to find a vase. Caitlyn and Ryan followed her to help slice rolls for the meal—a family favorite, Beef on Kimmelwick sandwiches. Potato salad, baked beans, and fresh fruit were already arranged on the tables in great big bowls.

They sat at one of the smaller tables with Jake, Mallory, Paige, and Lauren. Caitlyn loved listening to the chatter of the huge clan, never having experienced such a thing before.

“How many in your family, Caitlyn?” Paige asked, the youngest of the group at seventeen.

“I’m alone.”

“Oh, sorry.” Paige gave her a sympathetic look. “What happened to your parents?”

“Paige!” the others all cried out.

Caitlyn reached for Ryan’s hand and covered it with hers. “It’s all right.” She turned to Paige. “My mother died when I was eighteen. She was an alcoholic. She couldn’t handle the loss of my father.”

“Why? What happened to your father?”

“My father was killed by a bomb in Iraq when I was thirteen.”

The entire room became silent, every member of the Grant-Ramsay family staring at Caitlyn in disbelief.

Chapter Nine

Caitlyn glanced around the room and said, “What’s wrong?” Her fork froze in her hand.

Dr. Ramsay cleared his throat and said, “Caitlyn, would you mind repeating what you just said?”

Caitlyn set down her fork and said, “I was talking about my parents, Dr. Ramsay. My father died in an explosion in Iraq when I was thirteen. My mother couldn’t handle it and started drinking too much. She died when I was eighteen.”

“How awful,” Lauren whispered.

Lorraine gave her a sympathetic look and said, “We’re so sorry, dear. That must have been very difficult for you.”

“Yes, but I moved in with my aunt when I turned sixteen, so I wasn’t alone.”

Mallory reached for her hand. “Still. We all know what it’s like to lose one parent. You lost both. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Caitlyn blushed and stared into her lap. “Please. Go back to this wonderful meal. Everything is delicious, Lorraine.”

Bits of chatter popped up at each table grouping. Once she was certain she was no longer the center of attention, Caitlyn glanced at Ryan, “Sorry. I didn’t want to put a damper on the picnic.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for your loss.” Ryan swore his heart had stopped beating when Caitlyn said her father was killed in an explosion in Iraq. How could that be? He didn’t believe in coincidence. He shoveled food in his mouth, unable to take part in the conversations around him, unable to even look at Caitlyn as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Then he froze.

Suddenly, he was back there, hearing the sound of the bomb exploding, reaching for his friend and searching for his brother. Lights flashed in his peripheral vision, a boom went off next to his ear, and he saw Chad grab his chest before collapsing. Yelling alternated with the strange silence caused by his temporary deafness. Then his voice, Jake’s voice, gunfire, Chad screaming, pain, more pain, more gunfire…He grappled to get out of their upturned vehicle, to save Chad. More gunfire. Chad’s voice telling him something.
What was it? I can’t hear you, Chad.
His hand gripped something—a gun? his fork?—and he couldn’t let go.

“Ryan? Are you alright? Ryan?”

A sweet voice beckoned to him, cutting through all the chaos around him. Cait. He turned his head and saw her staring at him, her golden halo of curls making her look like an angel. Her hand reached under the table and grasped his hand in hers. “Ryan.” He heard her voice as if he was on a different plateau, above her but next to her. Was that possible? He stared into her eyes, not daring to look away…if he did, he’d see bombs exploding all around them, he was certain of it. Feeling a sudden slice of fear in his chest, he grabbed her arm to pull her away from the bombs before one hit her. He couldn’t let that happen to her, too.

“RYAN!” Mallory yelled at him.

Mallory brought him back. He stuttered and set his fork down, reaching down into his lap for his napkin. “What, Mallory? I’m fine.”

For a stricken moment everyone was silent, but then his siblings started to chatter and play with their food again. He glanced over at his father and saw his dad’s keen gaze on him, measuring him, always assessing as he had been trained to do. Caitlyn’s hand was intertwined with his and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Mallory, what shifts are you working this week?” she asked.

Jake was still staring at him with alarm, as he always did at times like these, but Caitlyn did not seem frightened of or for him. She held his hand and smiled at him every once in a while, carrying on her conversation with Mallory as if nothing had happened.

She hadn’t left. She hadn’t run away, run from
him
, the way everyone else had.

He peered at the beautiful woman next to him. Every other time he had slipped into one of his PTSD episodes around a woman he was dating, she had excused herself, never to be seen again…at least by him. The first time had been two weeks after he was released from the hospital. His girlfriend of three years had stared at him as if he were a stranger—and a dangerous one at that—and fled his side in a hurry.

The other woman he had dated since the
incident
had only lasted a few weeks. Then he experienced an episode while they were eating in a restaurant. She had faked an emergency and insisted on leaving right away. He had never seen her again.

Which was why he didn’t date. Well, at least one of the reasons why. He knew his problems were the kind women ran from.

But not Cait.

This only verified what he already knew: Caitlyn McCabe was different.

He peeked at her from the side again as she was talking to Paige. His aura—or whatever you wanted to call it—was descending upon him. It was hard to explain what it was to someone who’d never experienced one, but it most resembled a fog or a haze. He could barely speak when he was in his aura; sometimes it came upon him before a full-blown episode, sometimes a minute or so after it. He couldn’t take in all his surroundings when he was in his aura. Right now, he saw his father, Jake, Mallory and Cait. Nothing else existed; no one else existed. Not even him.

When he was in his aura, he couldn’t feel anything. It was a protective cocoon, keeping things he couldn’t handle at bay for a time. But this one was different because he could feel one thing.

Cait’s hand squeezing his.

***

When it came down to it, the incident itself had seemed so minor. Ryan’s fork stopped midair and stayed there, his eyes fixed on some far-off sight.

As soon as that had happened, Dr. Ramsay said, “Caitlyn, you know Ryan was in the army, right?”

Caitlyn nodded and glanced back at Ryan, still not moving. After Mallory yelled his name three times, he finally responded, setting his fork on the table and grabbing his napkin.

Since she could tell he was embarrassed and uncomfortable, Caitlyn reached for him and held his hand in hers to help him through the episode, whatever it was. She rested one finger on his radial pulse and felt it speed up as all his muscles stiffened. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand, just wanting to let him know she was there. A few minutes later, his body changed again. His pulse slowed, his muscles relaxed, and he scanned the room again instead of staring at her.

And he was back.

Caitlyn wasn’t sure what had caused the change in Ryan, but she could tell something was very badly wrong from the look in his eyes…and in the eyes of his family. They shared the same haunted expression—concern, worry, and so much love. They all watched him as they continued their conversations, but they tried to be subtle. The exception was Dr. Ramsay, who only took his gaze off his son to look at her, as if he wanted to see her reaction to Ryan.

Well, she wasn’t leaving. Whatever he was suffering from didn’t matter. It didn’t change how she felt about him. She wanted to know more about Ryan Ramsay, and if he suffered from some type of post traumatic stress disorder, she didn’t care. He was a kind, hardworking gentleman, and she wasn’t ready to walk away from him because of issues with his past. Her father had been forced to deal with similar issues before his death.

No, she wasn’t leaving yet, not until he asked her to leave. They finished their lunch and Caitlyn helped Lorraine in the kitchen. Ryan didn’t move out of his chair, but she didn’t expect he
could
yet. Had he experienced a seizure? No, it couldn’t have been a seizure because Mallory had been able to pull him out of it. It had to be something else.

Dr. Ramsay stepped into the kitchen and said, “Caitlyn, would you mind helping me get something out of my car?”

“Sure, I’d be glad to help.” He handed her coat to her and led her out the door, away from Ryan.

As soon as they stepped outside, Dr. Ramsay said, “Don’t give up on him, please.”

Caitlyn shook her head in confusion. “I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”

Ryan’s father sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the ground. He finally looked up and met her eyes. “My son, Ryan. Please don’t give up on him yet. He has his issues, but he’s a good man.”

“I’m not ready to give up on your son.”

A look of relief passed over his face, but then left in a hurry. He kneaded his forehead, as if to stave off a headache, then said, “I don’t know how much he has told you, but he fought in Iraq. He has post traumatic stress disorder. He’s getting better, and the episodes are much less frequent now. I guess it’s strange of me to say this, particularly since I’m a man of science, but I think you’re special, Caitlyn, and I think you’re here for a reason. Your father, when you talked about him, I think that sent Ryan into one of his episodes.”

Caitlyn nodded, finally making some sense out of what had happened at lunch.

“Has he told you anything about that?” He moved his hands into his pockets.

“No.”

“Then I won’t say anymore. It’s up to him, but please be patient with him. This…well it hasn’t been easy for Ryan.”

Caitlyn could see his eyes misting before he turned his gaze to look at the sky.

“Probably should head back inside. Could be snowing before long. I think we’re supposed to have a storm tonight.” He grabbed the door handle to hold it open for her.

She stopped and glanced at him, her head tipped. “Dr. Ramsay, did you need to get something from your car?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “No, I did what I needed to do. Thank you, Caitlyn.”

When they stepped inside, Ryan was standing there waiting for them in the kitchen, though he had trouble meeting Cait’s gaze. “Are you ready to go? I’ll take you home.”

She said her goodbyes and thanked the Ramsays for the meal. As soon as they were away from prying ears, Caitlyn said, “Ryan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?” He wouldn’t look at her, but he held her door open before he climbed into the driver’s seat.

She waited until he closed his door. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

He shook his head and started the car.

His gaze caught hers and the gamut of emotions that crossed his face twisted her heart. “Ryan, please don’t shut me out. I can’t imagine what you went through in Iraq. I remember my father’s stories about it.”

He thought for a second before he said, “No. I’m not feeling well. I think I need to go home for a bit.”

They rode in silence—if Ryan didn’t want to talk about it, Caitlyn didn’t know what to say to him. She thought about everything Ryan’s father had told her, and wondered exactly what horrors Ryan had lived through. Her heart swelled for him.

When they were almost there, Ryan reached for her hand and held it on his lap. “I’m sure my father told you I served in Iraq.”

“Yes, he did. He’s very proud of you.”

“I was in the army, so I have a lot of bad memories from combat. I’m sorry to have kept that from you. I try to ignore that part of my life.” He kept his gaze glued to the road, but he squeezed her gloved hand.

“Ryan, don’t apologize. But it may help you to talk about it. I’m a very good listener.”

He shook his head and glanced at her for a moment, the pain in his eyes wrenching her very soul. “No. Someday maybe.”

Caitlyn decided to let it go. Somehow she knew talking about his experience would be a major milestone for him. Her training told her it would help him to unburden himself. She had to get him to talk. “How long ago were you in?”

“A few years ago. I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

Ryan pulled into her driveway, walked her to the door and waited for her to unlock it, then gave her a quick kiss and left.

Caitlyn didn’t know what to think. Getting Ryan Ramsay to open up was going to be a true challenge. Could she handle it?