Together With You (24 page)

Ryan slipped the card into his shirt pocket. “Do you want to talk to my sons? Is there anything else?”

“We're done.” She stood and picked up the notebook. “I'll be on my way, but Penny?”

As the child turned to her, Louanne offered her hand. Penny stared at it, then grabbed it with both of hers and shook.

“It was nice to meet you,” Louanne said. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

Just about mermaids,
Ryan thought. When it came to imagining the consequences of her actions, like running away or crossing a street without looking, Penny possessed no imagination at all. She lived in the moment, something he related to as a man who'd once given in to impulse.

Ryan walked Louanne to the door, thanked her, then strode back to the kitchen. Penny was back in her tent and out of earshot, so he took his phone out of his pocket.

Carly saw it and frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Denise.”

“No. Wait.”

Because she asked, he paused. “I'm calling her now. If she has a problem, she needs to call me, not DFCS.”

“Yes, but you want to be calm. Tell her what happened. Include her. Don't make her an enemy.”

“Well, she is.” Not only had she threatened his custody of Penny, she had attacked Carly's character and that clawed at him. He longed to go to Carly now, put his arms around her, press her face to his shoulder, and tell her . . . tell her what? That he admired her? Loved her? He couldn't say either of those things, but he could protect her from false accusations.

With his temper hot but under control, he called Denise and relayed the story. She didn't apologize like he expected. Instead, she defended herself. “I have grave concerns—”

“I get that, Denise. But—”

“Penny shouldn't even be at the beach.”

“That's ridiculous. She has to be watched, but she's still a child.”

“It's just not safe,” Denise protested. “I don't care how competent Carly is, I think she made a mistake.”

“Well, I don't.”

“You're defending her.” Denise's tone reeked of suspicion. “It makes me wonder what else is going on. Remember, Ryan, I know your track record.”

“That's not fair.” And it insulted Carly, who was staring out the window, her eyes still shiny and her nose a little red. He laid a hand on her shoulder. When she nodded to show her support, he spoke again to Denise. “I'm Penny's father. I respect your ties to her, but you don't have the right to interfere in our lives.”

“I do if your nanny is incompetent.”

“Carly does an excellent job, and you know it. She's amazing. She's more than competent. She's—” He stopped in midsentence, aware that his defense hinted at that ridiculous idea that wasn't ridiculous at all. He let go of Carly's shoulder and stepped back.
She headed to the sink, and he focused solely on Denise. “This is about Penny, and it's between you and me.”

“Fine. But that doesn't change the facts.”

“What do you want me to do?” Ryan lashed back. “Keep her in a cage?”

“Of course not. But the beach isn't safe.”

“Sometimes neither is flying. Any close calls?” He knew the answer, otherwise he wouldn't have asked.

“A few.”

He leveled his voice. “Human beings take chances all the time. It's just life, and I want Penny to have the biggest life I can give her.”

“So do I, but I also want her safe!”

“Absolutely.” He saw a chance to mollify Denise and took it. “That's why I need a favor. I'm taking five teenagers on a camping trip. I need Carly's help. Could you watch Penny for a few days?”

“Of course. When?”

He named the dates in August.

“I'd be glad to watch her. I love her so much—”

“So do I, Denise.”

A labored sigh hissed into his ear. “You're off the hook this time, Ryan. But please be careful. Penny is precious to me, and I promised Jenna I'd love her like my own.”

“And you do.” He didn't doubt Denise's sincerity, only her judgment. “We can make this work. Just don't call Family Services again—not without talking to me first.”

“You're right,” she admitted. “It was a knee-jerk reaction, and I'm sorry. I was just so worried.”

“I understand.” He managed a courteous good-bye, pocketed his phone, then watched Carly chug down a glass of water. If she weren't Penny's nanny and an employee, he would have asked her out weeks ago. But there was also the matter of her faith and Bible Belt roots. She didn't need a skeptical divorced man whose life was a mess.

But looking at her now, he realized her life was a mess, too. Her eyes were dull and puffy, and somehow she seemed diminished. She didn't need Ryan's skepticism, but she
did
need to stop feeling guilty over Allison. It might linger forever the way Ryan's guilt lingered, but he couldn't leave her hurting like this.

She set the half-empty glass on the counter. “I'm glad that's over.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. Louanne is gone.”

“That's not what I meant.” Without thinking, he picked up Lance. “Grrr, Miss Carly. Don't be sad!”

“But I am,” she confessed to Lance.

“Dr. Ryan says you did everything right.” Lance looked at Ryan, and they both nodded. Then Lance turned back to Carly. “Dr. Ryan is going to play with Penny so you can have a rest, but tonight he wants to have a little talk.”

Carly gaped at Lance, then lifted her eyes to Ryan's face. The sparkle returned and was bright, maybe because of the sheen of tears. But just as quickly, she looked away. “No thank you, Lance.”

“Aaargh,”
the lion said, pirate-like. “Dr. Ryan might have to kidnap you. If you don't do what he says, he'll make you walk the plank.”

As he hoped, Carly smiled a little more. “I guess he's serious about this conversation.”

“I am,” Ryan said in his own voice. “I'll find you after Penny's bedtime.”

She gave him a hopeless look and shrugged. Ryan took it as a challenge. If she needed to bare her soul even more, he'd listen. And if it was at all reasonable, he'd hire an investigator to find Allison.

T
he instant Ryan left the kitchen to be with Penny, Carly fetched her phone, raced out the front door, and walked a half mile to the narrow park that cut between Ryan's neighborhood and a ravine that carried runoff to the ocean. In the shade of a towering wall of eucalyptus trees, with the cough-drop scent filling her nose, she went to the playground, dropped down on a big-kid swing, and pulled her hair into a ragged ponytail. Then she called her dad.

“Hey there,” he said. “How's my girl?”

“Awful.”

“What happened?”

“Denise reported me for child endangerment because I took Penny to the beach.” She told him everything—about the mustard mess, Ryan's defense of her, and Louanne's absolution. “But Daddy, it stirred up all the stuff about Allison. I just can't stand it!”

“What can't you stand?”

“Not knowing what happened to her! You know that.”

When her father stayed silent, Carly knew what was coming and wished she hadn't called. He was going to challenge her to think,
and she didn't want to think right now. If she thought too long or too hard, her feelings for Ryan would leak into her voice, and her father would show up on Ryan's doorstep with his shotgun. Not literally, but he'd want to meet the man who had stolen his daughter's heart.

Determined to keep the talk about Allison, Carly tossed a challenge back to him. “Go ahead. Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You're going to tell me to stop beating myself up. You're going to say to put Allison in God's hands—like that's the easiest thing in the world. But it's not. I just can't do it. You know I've tried—”

“Maybe the answer isn't
trying.
”

“Then what is it?”

“The work is done, Carly Jo.
Trying
won't get you there. This is about trusting God.”

“I know that.” She knew everything about being a Christian because she'd been one her whole life. She pushed off the swing so hard it flew back, then forward, and whapped her in the rear end. What an awful day this had been! And now Ryan was acting like a pirate and caring about her, when she could hardly look at him without her heart leaping out of her chest.

“Carly Jo?”

“I'm here, Daddy.”

“Maybe you should come home for a visit. I'm worried about you.”

Aching to say yes, she inhaled sharply. Dust filled her nose, along with smog and the ocean air that smelled all wrong. If she went home for a visit, maybe she could forget her feelings for Ryan, or at least figure out how to control them. “I'd like that, Daddy. Maybe after the camping trip.”

“Just keep it in mind, sweetheart.”

“I will.” She imagined lush grass, the smells, the booming thunder that gave the county its name. “So what's the weather like?”

“A storm's rolling in.”

With her eyes closed, she listened while he described a sky full of gray and white clouds, some wispy and others heavy with rain. It was the exact picture she planned to paint on Penny's wall. A coincidence? Or was it God telling her He understood how she felt? Carly didn't know, but she felt a burning need to finish Penny's mural.

“Thanks for listening, Daddy. I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow. I promise.”

“You know I love you, Carly Jo.” The sweetness of home thickened his voice. “If you'd care to call back tonight, you do that.”

She pocketed the phone and walked back to Ryan's house, her fingers itching to pick up the paintbrush. Knowing the front door was locked, she went through the back gate. As she rounded the corner of the house, she heard loud splashing, Penny's high-pitched giggles, and Ryan roaring like a sea monster.

Don't stop. Don
't look.
He'd be shirtless, of course. Water would bead on his shoulders and chest.
His chest . . .
Was it hairy or smooth? Muscular, definitely.

“Hey, Carly!” he called from the shallow end. “I caught a mermaid. Come and see.”

Penny shouted, “I can fly, too!”

Carly pasted a fake smile on her face and detoured to the pool. Ryan saw her, flashed a grin, and tossed Penny high into the air. Shrieking, she landed with a splash. Fresh droplets landed on Ryan's tanned shoulders, caught the sun, and sparkled like glitter.

His gaze locked with hers, but Penny popped up in front of him and tried to climb into his arms. “Again, Daddy! Do it again!”

Not
Dr. Tremaine.
Not
Dr. Daddy.
Just
Daddy
. Carly pressed her hand to her chest. With her eyes on Ryan, she treasured the surprise exploding on his face. He was focused on Penny now, his mouth open until his lips pulled into a smile that gleamed white in the sun. Intending to slip away, she headed for the slider.

“Carly?”

She turned and smiled. “I heard.”

Penny clung to him like a monkey and patted his face for attention, but he kept his eyes on Carly. “Thank you,” he called out to her.

“I didn't do anything. It's just . . . just love.”

Afraid he'd see her heart in her eyes, she fled into the house and went straight to Penny's room to finish the mural. Someone, probably Ryan, had covered the cans to keep the paint from drying out. With clumsy fingers, Carly pried open the lid, dipped in the brush, and slashed a thick gray line across the base of the billowing clouds.

She painted a few more squiggly lines, traded the thick brush for a thin one, then added streaks of rain and a swirl of shimmering wind. Stepping back, she saw clouds melting into rain that would cleanse, refresh, and maybe heal her dry and thirsty heart. It was a meltdown, literally. Slumping to her knees, she gave in to tears and questions, a plea to be free of her guilt over Allison, and the strength to forget Ryan's perfect, not-too-hairy chest.

Again, Daddy! Do it again!

Penny's words trumpeted through Ryan's mind for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Carly didn't come out of her room to fix dinner, so he tapped on her door. When she didn't answer, he opened it a crack and saw her curled on the bed under a fleece throw, sound asleep with her head on a pillow and her back to him. The day had drained her, but he hoped his plan to hire a private investigator would lift her spirits.

With Carly asleep and Kyle with Taylor, he took Penny and Eric to In-N-Out Burger, one of the few things remaining on the SOS list. Carly was still in hiding when they returned, so he put Penny to bed and headed to the old garage with the Impala to check the camping gear. He preferred hotels and good restaurants, but Eric's enthusiasm had them all fired up.

He opened the big garage door, flipped on the light, and backed the Impala into the driveway to make room for the gear he needed to pull down from the rafters. He was on his last trip down the ladder, shouldering a sleeping bag, when a shadow fell across the garage floor.

“Ryan?”

“Carly. Good.” He took the last few rungs and tossed the sleeping bag onto the pile. “I was about to look for you.”

“Here I am.”

Her tone struck him as distant, even a little vague. She didn't sound like herself at all.

“Let me finish here, then we'll go to my office. There's something I want to show you.”

She hesitated. “Could you just tell me?”

“I'd rather show you, but I need to hang the sleeping bags so they'll air out.”

She glanced at the pile on the floor. “I'm kind of tired. Will you be much longer?”

A lame excuse, but he couldn't call her on it without revealing his earlier tap on her door. Rather than keep her, he spoke as he shook out a sleeping bag. “I was going to show you the Web site for a private investigator. A colleague of mine used this woman when his son ran away.”

“An investigator? What for?”

“To find Allison.”

He was halfway up the ladder when Carly's faint voice reached his ears. “You'd do that for me?”

“It's a long shot, but this woman specializes in missing kids.” He hung the sleeping bag, straightened the edges, then peered down at her. “Her Web site gives her credentials, success stories, that sort of thing.”

“It seems impossible,” Carly said, more to herself than to him. “Allison's been missing almost two years. I check her social media all the time. I've left messages there.”

“Any cell phone?”

“Disconnected.” She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “She wasn't good with money. She'd give anyone who asked everything she had, not because she wanted to, but because she didn't understand and thought she had to do it.”

He thought of Penny. “It's rough.”

“Yes.” Carly shivered a little. “It would take a miracle to find her.”

From the top of the ladder, Ryan beamed a challenge at her. “You're the Christian. You believe in miracles, right?”

Startled, she glared back. “You're mocking me.”

“Not at all.” He indicated the sleeping bags still on the floor. “Would you hand one to me?”

“Sure.”

She came forward and lifted it. He placed his hands near hers and took the bag. “I was trying to show respect for your values. So what do you say? Shall we go for it?”

“I can't afford an investigator.”

“I can.” Still on the ladder, he tilted his head down while she looked up. The fluorescent light washed the color from her cheeks and the life from her eyes. “Let me do this for you, Carly. We might find her. We might not. Either way, you can have the peace of knowing you did everything possible.”

“It's kind of you. I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. Just e-mail her picture, anything you have that'll help the investigator. I'll call her tomorrow and forward whatever info you have.”

“Thank you. You're a . . . a good friend.”

After a quick nod, he hung the last sleeping bag and climbed down the ladder. There was so much more he wanted to say.
You're beautiful. I care about you. I
love you.
But he didn't say any of those things. What did a man do when he fell for a woman with an outlook on life incompatible with his own? Tense, he folded
the ladder and hung it on the wall. Carly waited on the driveway, her hands jammed in her back pockets as he drove the Impala back into the garage. He climbed out, slammed the door, and crossed to the wall to turn off the light.

“Ryan?”

“Yes?” He paused with his hand on the switch.

“I just want you to know. What you're doing for Allison is . . . it's special to me.”

Silence wrapped around them and pulled tight, thickening with every breath. He turned off the light, left the garage, and closed the door with the keypad. As it rumbled shut, they walked side by side down the driveway.

“Oh!” Her flip-flop caught, and she stumbled. Ryan caught her elbow and pulled her upright, turning her slightly to counter the fall. She faced him, maybe to say thank you, but nothing came out of her slightly parted lips. No words. No sound. Only the soft rasp of her breath mingling with his.

The moon beamed down through the branches, and a breeze stirred through the leaves, rustling them like the scrape of silk. She was steady on her feet now. He had no reason to hold her and every reason to let go, but she was female, soft, and beautiful. Kissing her was a terrible idea . . . a dangerous one.

Pull back,
he told himself.
Let her go.
If they kissed, they couldn't go back to being just friends. He'd never forget it, wouldn't want to forget it. And neither would she. Ryan was a confident man, and that included confidence in his ability to kiss a woman senseless.

Their breathing synchronized. One breath, two breaths.

Her lips parted.

So did his.

One kiss . . . one taste of her lips. One moment of comfort for Carly, who was hurting and always so generous to others. For once, Ryan wanted to be the giver. She needed a strong shoulder, a man to hold her, a moment of something sweet and good.

He leaned forward an inch.

So did she.

He cupped the back of her head with his hand, smelled her clean hair, and tangled his fingers in it. And then it struck him . . .
tangled
. If he kissed her, their lives would be tangled together in an all new way—a way that could cost Penny her nanny, Ryan a true friend, and Carly—he didn't know what it would cost her. She wasn't like the women he used to date. Those women were satisfied with a “for now” relationship. Carly wanted forever.

If he kissed her, he'd hurt her.

He couldn't take that chance.

Jaw tight, he drew her head down to his shoulder and held it there. Her breath raced along his neck and down his throat, a gust that told him she'd been holding it. She sagged a bit, then her fingers let go of his shirt and slid off his shoulder blades. Still fighting the desire to taste her lips, he planted a kiss on her temple, set her upright, and took a big step back. With her face in shadows, he cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”