Ryan's Crossing (3 page)

Amber followed Ryan’s gaze to a framed drawing of a maple tree sitting in front of a log cabin. In one top corner, a child’s face smiled down on the scene.

“I drew that,” said Amber.

“I remember you having a talent for drawing,” said Ryan as he walked closer. “This is really good.”

“Thanks.”

“Is the child someone special?”

Amber looked at the child she’d sketched. “Her name is Jamie. She was Peter’s older sister.”

“Was?”

“She died when she was ten.” She looked at her brother.

He looked back at her, a lump forming in his throat. Returning his eyes to the picture, he said, “Have you made peace?”

“You mean with Cassie’s death?”

Ryan nodded. “You were a lot closer to her than I was. I don’t really have many memories of my oldest sister.”

“You were only six when the accident happened, Ryan.”

He looked back at his sister. “I remember one conversation we had shortly before you left. You said that you tried not to think about her because it hurt too much.”

She sighed deeply. “Part of me still hurts, but I’m not angry anymore. I told God that I would rather have grown up with her, but ultimately I choose to trust Him and His choices.”

She trusts God? Ryan’s mind was tumbling again.

“Hey, Ray, Ryan,” said Peter, coming around the corner to join them. “Mom’s got dinner ready.”

Ryan followed them back to the dining room and looked at the feast laid before him. The light blue tablecloth was barely noticeable underneath the dishes piled around the place setting for eight. Fried rice, Mexican corn, guacamole, refried beans, tortilla chips, and a huge salad surrounded two large dishes full of steamy melted cheese. It looked like a Mexican-themed Thanksgiving!

“Come on, everyone, before the enchiladas get cold,” said Faye.

“Don’t have to call me twice,” said Thomas as he took a seat beside Frank.

Ryan hung back to see where everyone sat, watching Peter hold out Amber’s chair for her before sitting beside her.

“Ryan, come sit by your mother,” said Faye with a smile and a pat on the back of the empty chair. Then she took her seat.

“All right now,” said Frank. “Let’s say grace.”

Ryan watched Peter and his sister grab hands as they bowed their heads. It seems natural, not awkward.

“Thank you, Father, for this food smelling so good before us and adding yet another friend to our table. Let our conversation be good and keep us safe through the night. Amen.”

“Now everyone eat up, but save room for dessert,” said Faye. “I have caramel flan in the fridge for later.”

“What’s flan?” said Keith.

“It’s a Mexican dessert, mostly sugar and sweetened milk,” said Faye. “Peter, will you serve the enchiladas?”

“Sure,” said Peter. “Let me see your plate, Mom.”

As food began to be dished out, conversation began around the table as well.

“Your dad said you’re a paramedic, Ryan,” said Frank.

Ryan took the salad from his mom and added some to his bowl. “Yes, sir.”

“Where do you work?” said Peter, handing a plate back to his mom and reaching for Ryan’s.

“I’m down at McWilliam, just a couple hours west of here,” said Ryan.

“Well that’s not too far,” said Faye.

“Mom said you were really busy at Christmas,” said Amber.

“Yeah,” said Ryan. “Besides my EMT job at the firehouse, I was pulling a bunch of extra hours at the hospital.”

“Was that for a class you were taking?” Thomas asked, spooning some fried rice onto his plate.

“Kinda,” said Ryan. “I was working with a couple of the doctors on diagnosis.”

“Is that part of your training?” Peter asked as he added refried beans to his plate.

“Paramedics only have to have an associate’s degree to get licensed. But I’ve been working toward getting my bachelor’s.”

“What are you going to do with that?” said Thomas.

Ryan clenched his jaw. “Not sure, Dad,” said Ryan. He hated admitting that he wasn’t sure what was driving him to complete more school, much less what he was going to do with it when he was done.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here now,” said Faye.

Conversation turned to wedding planning and his dad’s latest stories. Ryan relaxed a bit after the careful scrutiny on his job situation. At least they didn’t ask if I was considering moving again. I think I’ll keep that to myself until I decide whether or not to move to a larger department in Portland.

As the evening closed down, he knew he would have to make a decision about where he was sleeping. He’d rather just drive up the road toward Portland to find a hotel, but he didn’t think that was going to fly.

His sister—maybe he would call her Rachel-Amber until he got used to using her middle name—slipped up to him and squeezed his arm. “I’d really like it if you’d stay here with us tonight, Ryan.”

It seems a better option than Peter’s. At least she is here, and I’m not forced into close quarters with the brother-in-law yet. “I guess the bride gets to decide,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’ll grab my bag.”

Chapter 4

RYAN ROLLED OVER TO CHECK
the time. 8:24. I suppose I should get up. Wonder what time they get moving around here.

He grabbed clean jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt and headed to the shower. Ten minutes later, he walked down the stairs to find Rachel-Amber curled up on a chair by the fire reading.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Ryan. Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Frank and Faye are already gone, but there’s fresh muffins in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“Got any coffee?”

“Let’s go see.” She sat her book aside and stood up, stretching her arms above her head before striking out for the kitchen. “Frank normally cleans it out before he leaves, but I can make some more.”

Ryan watched her move around the kitchen. “You’re really comfortable here.”

She smiled as she poured water into the coffee maker. “Yes. When I first got here, I was a mess, but God brought me here where they just… I don’t know. Enveloped me in love, I guess.” She emptied the coffee scoop into the filter and pushed the start button. “There, fresh coffee in just a few minutes.”

“You know, I was mad at you for a long time.” Ryan turned the basket of muffins around in his hands, focusing on the aroma wafting from the coffee maker rather than Rachel’s face.

“Because I left?”

Ryan sighed deeply. “Because you left me.”

“I’m sorry, Ryan.”

He looked into her eyes for a moment, clenching his jaw. She offered no excuses for her behavior, just a simple apology. He wondered the same question that had haunted him for years: Would I have done anything different if I’d been the older one?

“I don’t blame you, Rachel-Amber. It’s really the catalyst that changed everything.” Ryan paused, lost in thought. “Still, it was lonely without you.”

“Do you think we can make up for it? I’m enjoying having Mom and Dad here. But I’d love it if you were around as well.”

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m cut out to live in Mayberry.”

She laughed. “I thought of Sheriff Taylor when I first got here too.”

She filled a mug and handed it to him. “Milk, sugar?”

“Black is fine.”

“Look, Ryan. I’m not asking you to move to Crossing. If you’re happy in McWilliam, that’s fine. It’s not so far. Whatever town is best for you is okay by me. I’m just asking if maybe we can plan to spend more time together, get together on holidays, acknowledge birthdays, that kind of thing.” Her voice trailed off as she waited for his response.

Ryan took a sip of coffee, thinking about all they had missed. Not just the ten years she’s been gone, but all the years before that were filled with misery. “Maybe so.”

He paused to look at her, squinting his left eye. “When’s your birthday again?”

He waited to see how she’d react. Pain briefly reflected in her eyes. Until he smiled. Then he ducked as the kitchen towel came flying towards his face.

Ryan couldn’t remember a better afternoon. Just relaxing with his sister and catching up on their lives soothed his spirit more than he’d thought possible. Now as they walked toward the logging office, memories came flooding back from a childhood summer camp.

“Remember that year Dad made us go to camp?”

Amber laughed. “The year they were infested with frogs?”

“We had to check the beds before we could go to sleep,” said Ryan.

Amber opened the door to the office, stomping snow off her feet before entering. “And you took one home in your backpack!”

“Took one what?” said Faye, looking up from the small pile of orders in front of her.

“A frog,” said Amber, giggling.

Ryan feigned innocence. “He was overcrowded in his home.”

“Do I need to check your room?” said Faye, utterly confused.

Ryan’s “No” met Amber’s “Maybe,” sending everyone laughing.

“Okay. I promise. No frogs,” said Ryan, hands raised in surrender.

“Any other critters I should be worrying about?” asked Faye with raised eyebrows.

“I seem to remember…” said Amber.

Just then, a young man burst into the office. “Ms. Faye, have you got a rag or anythin’ up here?”

Amber and Faye turned to see one of their employees, Chad Davis, holding his young son’s nose, blood dripping from between his fingers. Amber immediately went for the first aid kit. Faye grabbed a roll of paper towels. Ryan knelt at the boy’s side and tried to avoid the melting snow from his shoes.

“What happened?” asked Ryan.

“Nothin’ I know of,” said Chad. “It just started bleeding.”

“Let me see a couple paper towels,” said Ryan. He looked at the women. “Where can he sit?”

“Here.” Amber rolled a chair over to Ryan.

Ryan gently took the paper towels and pinched the boy’s nose right under his bridge. He placed his other hand behind the boy’s head and leaned it forward slightly.

“Why don’t you sit in the chair while I hold your nose, okay?” said Ryan. He glanced at his watch. “What’s your name?”

“Josh.”

“Well, Josh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ryan.”

Ryan felt Josh tremble.

“Bloody noses can be scary, but normally they’re nothing to worry about. Do you remember bumping your nose on anything, Josh?”

“No.”

“How old are you?”

“Four.”

Ryan looked at the boy sitting before him. He’s too calm. “Has this ever happened before?”

Josh nodded his head. Ryan looked at the man who brought the boy here.

“Are you his father?”

“Yes. The name’s Chad.”

“How often does this happen?”

Chad spread his arms helplessly. “It started back a couple months ago when he had the flu. He just ain’t been the same since.”

“Anyone else in the house sick?”

“No. Well, not really. My wife’s been sick, but she’s pregnant and all, so it’s not real sickness. Just because of the baby. And his brother Caleb never got sick a’tall.”

“Ryan?” Concern was evident in Amber’s voice.

He shook his head. “It’s most likely nothing. Sometimes kids just get nosebleeds. Even the ones who tend to get them a lot also tend to grow out of them.”

He looked at young Josh. “I’m just going to hold on for about another minute, then we’ll see how it’s doing, okay?”

Josh tried to nod his head, which was difficult since Ryan had a grip on his nose.

Ryan turned his head and met Faye’s anxious gaze. “He might like something to drink. Sometimes a bit of the blood will go down the throat.”

Faye hurried to the small fridge they kept in the office.

“It don’t taste good,” said Josh, referring to the blood.

“No, it doesn’t,” Ryan agreed.

“If I remember…” said Faye. “Yes, I thought so.” She came back with a small popsicle. “I thought Frank had some of these things down here last fall.”

“Perfect,” said Ryan. “Rachel-Amber, can you wet down a couple of paper towels for me?”

Ryan looked at Josh. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to pull these paper towels on your nose away to see how we’re doing. If it looks okay, then we’ll use the wet ones to gently wipe around your nose. If it starts bleeding again, Mrs. Faye will have fresh paper towels ready for me, okay?”

Josh nodded his head. Faye grabbed a couple more paper towels off the roll as Amber walked up with some damp ones. Chad stood by his son, rubbing his back to comfort him.

Ryan put his free hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Now, when you look down, you might see what looks like a lot of blood on these paper towels. Just remember that the body has lots of blood, and even though it looks like a lot on these towels, it’s really not that bad, okay?”

Josh tried to nod again.

“Okay, let’s take a look.” Ryan gently pulled the towels away. “Looks good so far.” After he dropped the bloody towels on the floor and grabbed the wet towels from Amber, Ryan gently began to clean the stained and crusted area around Josh’s nose and mouth.

“There,” said Ryan, sitting back on his heels and looking Josh in the eye. “That looks better. Ready for your popsicle?”