Together With You (28 page)

“I love you,” she said in a quavering voice. “But what you're describing isn't enough. It's not Christianity. Jesus wasn't just a wise and good teacher, or even a prophet. He was God made flesh so we could have a relationship with Him. What you're describing is just going through the motions.”

Ryan didn't say anything. Not a word.

She felt sick inside. “I don't want to live
my
way or
your
way. I want to live God's way.”

“You can. I'm not stopping you.”

“You don't understand,” she repeated. “I want God's way to be
our
way. I know there are successful marriages where people have different faiths, but I'm just not that way. I need to know the man I love is praying for me, and that he leans on God like I do. I'm sorry, Ryan. But I'm afraid anything less would be a disaster for both of us.”

“Ah, Carly.” He bent his neck, stared at the dirt, and raked his hand through his hair. Finally he met her gaze with a piercing stare of his own. “I love you, Carly Jo. And I think I
do
understand you.”

Her full name, her true self.
But coming from Ryan, it sounded patronizing. “But you don't. That's what scares me.”

“It shouldn't.”

“We're so different.”

“Not really.” He paused, maybe to consider his next words. “I don't want to debate religion, but I have to ask a question.”

“What?”

“You're a Christian, and you believe Christ died for your sins. Right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“So why did you feel so guilty about Allison? It seems to me if you believed in God that strongly, you'd have set that burden down a long time ago. But you didn't.”

“I'm human. I have feelings.”

“And those feelings trumped your faith.”

“No. That's not right. It's just that . . . that . . .” Carly stopped with hollow words dead on her tongue. She was raised in the church. She read her Bible every morning. She'd been baptized in a muddy pond at the age of seven. She had lived her faith as best as she could, but Ryan was spot-on about her failure to accept forgiveness for hurting Allison.

He was so close she could smell the smoke from the camp stove on his skin and hair. He raised one hand, slowly, and trailed his fingers along her jaw. “Deep down, we're the same. You know that.”

His voice was soft, even kind, but his words scraped away everything she believed about herself. Without meaning to, Ryan had accused her of being a fake. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but the words came out in a confession. “If what you said is true, I'm a hypocrite.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You're not a hypocrite. Just naïve.”

“But I'm not naïve. That's not it.”

“This isn't important—”

“But it is!” She twisted her neck to escape his touch. “I have to understand.”

He gave her a careful look. “All right, then. Here's a diagnosis for you—”

“A
what
?”

“A diagnosis,” he repeated. “A scientific determination, a description of a condition.”

Carly gaped at him. “Christianity isn't a condition, and it's certainly not a disease.”

“No, but it
is
a state of mind. You believe in God because it's how you were raised. It's in your emotional DNA, and that's okay. We're all shaped by our upbringing, society, and our physical makeup.”

“And our choices.”

“Yes. Especially those. The way I see it, we've both made mistakes and learned from them. We love and respect each other. What more do we need?”

All her life, she'd viewed herself as a sincere believer, not a Sunday-only Christian spouting Bible verses off coffee cups. Now she wondered if Ryan was correct, and if her faith in God was more habit than holy. Alone and lost, she blurted, “I want to go home.”

“We will. Tomorrow.”

“No.” Her heart pounded against her ribs. “I mean home to Kentucky. I need to see my dad.”

A pleased look softened the lines around his eyes and mouth. “I talked to him.”

Carly gaped at him. “When?”

“Yesterday. I called to invite him for a visit. It seemed like the right thing to do before I popped the question like I just did.” He gave a sheepish half smile. “I jumped the gun here, but I'm not sorry.”

Carly's heart melted a little. He'd called her dad to show respect, and she appreciated it. “That was nice of you. But I still want to go home. I feel so lost.”

He grasped her hands and held tight. “We can be lost together.”

But she didn't want to be lost. She wanted to be found. And to be found, she needed to smell the loamy earth and gaze at real clouds painted on God's canvas of blue sky. She slipped her hands out of his, slowly, aware of every scrape of skin. “I'll book a flight when we get to the house.”

“When do you want to go?”

“As soon as possible.” She'd have to dip into her savings for a last-minute ticket, but she needed to see her father that badly. “I'm sure Denise will help with Penny.”

“No doubt,” he muttered. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not long.” Classes started in September, and if she decided to move out of Ryan's house, she'd need time to find an apartment in a safe neighborhood. She hated the thought of leaving Ryan and the kids, especially Penny, but living under his roof was just too much now.

The sun was almost gone, and the sky was purple with just a strip of lavender on the horizon. “We need to go back to camp,” she said to him.

A frown creased his brow, barely visible in the fading light. “What do we tell Penny?”

“Just that I'm visiting my dad in Kentucky and I'll be back soon. She'll be okay as long as we don't make a big deal about it.”

“And then?”

“We'll deal with the rest when I come back.”

Ryan closed the last few inches between them, then cupped her face again in his warm hands. “Go home to Kentucky, Carly Jo. But promise me you'll come back.”

“I will.”

“And know this”—his fingers tunneled into her hair—“I'm going to fight for you with everything I have. If it means wrestling with God, I'll do it.”

“Ryan, I—”

“I love you.” He tipped her head back, drew her fully into his arms, then brought his mouth down to hers in a crushing kiss.

Carly swayed into him, clutched his back, his shoulders, and returned the kiss with all the love and longing in her soul. If this was her only taste of “special and forever,” she wanted it to be branded on her heart in all its bittersweet glory.

P
enny loved Aunt DeeDee very much, but she wanted to go home to her room with the clouds. She'd been here for two whole nights, and she couldn't find the quiet place in her mind. The airplanes flew
all the time,
and she missed swimming with her daddy. “Mermaid” was her favorite game, and it was a lot more fun in the water than it was in Aunt DeeDee's living room. Penny wanted to go to the ocean, but Aunt DeeDee wouldn't take her. The water was close, too. Penny knew, because a blue sign on the corner pointed to it.

She wished she was at the beach now with Carly, but she settled for picking up Donna Dolphin and running into the kitchen. Aunt DeeDee was at the stove with fat gloves on her hands, lifting a big silver pot.

“Shark!” Penny shouted to warn her.

“Penny, no!” The pot clattered down on the stove. Water sloshed, and the orange burner hissed.

Penny ran back through the kitchen. The sharks were after them, so she made Donna swim extra fast.

Aunt DeeDee grabbed Penny from behind and spun her around.
The fat gloves were gone now, and her face was as white as her shirt. “Penny, stop!”

Penny tried, but her legs were wiggly today.

“I said, stop.”

“Shark!” Penny lifted Donna so Aunt DeeDee could see her. “The sharks are after us!”

Aunt DeeDee pulled her into a hug. “You can't run through the kitchen like that. It's not safe with hot things on the stove.”

Penny knew the rules. She just forgot them. Aunt DeeDee didn't understand how hard it was, but Carly did. She had even painted a meltdown on Penny's wall. Tears pushed into her eyes. She wanted to go home to her daddy and Carly, even to her brothers. Aunt DeeDee's house was just
too loud
.

“I need my tent,” she told Aunt DeeDee.

“Oh, sweetheart . . .”

Aunt DeeDee's phone played some music. Holding Penny by the shoulder, she answered it. Penny didn't pay much attention, but she thought it was her daddy calling to say they were back from the island. That meant he would come to pick her up, or maybe Carly would come by herself. Penny clapped her hands until Aunt DeeDee put her big hand over Penny's smaller ones and held them still.

“Yes, that's fine,” she said into the phone. “As long as you need . . . Of course. I'm thrilled . . . Yes, she's right here.”

Aunt DeeDee handed the phone to Penny. “It's your daddy.”

Knowing she had to be careful because the phone was smart and expensive, she held it lightly with both hands. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I'm okay.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“Uh-huh.” She wanted to say more, but her thoughts were tangled up.

When her daddy told her they all missed her, she felt nice inside and calmed down enough to think. “Can I talk to Carly?”

“She's not here right now. She went to the bathroom.”

“Oh.”

“She said to tell you hi.”

Penny closed her eyes, found the quiet place in her mind, and used her best voice, not the whiny one. “I want to go home.”

“Not just yet, honey.” He sounded funny, like he'd swallowed a cracker without chewing it. “You're going to stay with Aunt DeeDee a little longer. It'll be fun.”

She wanted to tell him no, but Aunt DeeDee was holding Donna and smiling at her. Distracted, Penny waved at them.

Her daddy broke in. “Let me talk to Aunt DeeDee again.”

Penny traded the phone for Donna and made her swim. Aunt DeeDee talked some more to Penny's daddy; then she said good-bye.

Crouching, she looked at Penny. “I bet you're wondering what's going on.”

Penny was more interested in making Donna swim, but Aunt DeeDee put her finger on Penny's chin and turned her face. “Carly's going on a trip, so you're going to stay with me. We'll have a good time. I promise. I know surprises are hard sometimes, but this is for the best. I'm going to take good care of you.”

There were too many words for Penny to understand, especially words like
Carly, trip,
and
surprise
. The kitchen blurred, and so did Aunt DeeDee's face. In a deep, convoluted way, Penny's mind mixed together all the puzzle pieces of her broken life, and she was reduced to her most basic need. “I want my mommy!”

Aunt DeeDee held her tight. “She's gone, honey. She can't come back.”

“W-Why not?”

Aunt DeeDee stroked Penny's hair. “It's just the way it is. When people die, they say good-bye forever, but their love stays here. That love is inside you.”

If her mommy's love was inside her, Penny didn't have to look for her. But she still wanted a mommy here and now, and she
wanted her new mommy to be Carly. Aunt DeeDee was fun and special and Penny loved her, but she felt safe with Carly, because Carly helped her to think.

Aunt DeeDee hugged her hard. “I miss your mommy, too. But at least we have each other.”

Aunt DeeDee tried to rock Penny, but Penny didn't want to be rocked. Her feelings were too big for her heart, and she wanted to go home. If she couldn't ever be with her mommy again, she wanted
home
to be with her daddy, her brothers, and especially Carly. That's what she told Aunt DeeDee, who gave her a serious look.

“Penny, listen.”

But she couldn't. Not really.

“Carly is leaving tomorrow. That's what nannies do. They come and go. I will be here always.”

The only words Penny took in were the ones about Carly leaving. What if Carly didn't come back? What if she went to the ocean and got in a boat and went to heaven and Penny never saw her again? Panicked, she broke away from Aunt DeeDee and ran to the door. “I have to see her.”

“She'll be here tomorrow to say good-bye.”

“No!” Penny pulled on the knob, but the door was locked with a special lock with a keypad like the one on her daddy's garage. Penny didn't know the magic numbers, but when Aunt DeeDee opened it, she made a square with her fingers starting with the 1. In the morning, when Aunt DeeDee was sleeping, Penny would try to make the same square.

If the lock made the whooshing sound, she could walk out the door and follow the blue signs with waves on them to the beach. The first one was on the corner of Aunt DeeDee's street and not very far. Once she found the beach, she could walk on the sand to her daddy's house—and to Carly.

Penny hoped Dr. God would help her, because she desperately wanted to ask Carly to be her new mommy.

Ryan clicked off the phone with Denise, walked back to the van, and helped Eric and Kyle with the camping gear. Knowing Penny would be upset, he had specifically told Denise to keep the information to a minimum, and that he would speak to Penny after Carly made travel plans. Ryan could only imagine what Paul Mason would think about his daughter's emergency trip home.

When the van was loaded, the kids climbed in the back and Carly took shotgun. They all chattered about the trip, but Carly didn't look at Ryan once. He didn't regret anything he had said or done on the island, certainly not the marriage proposal or kissing her. Carly might have God on her side, but Ryan had Mother Nature.

Two hours later, after taking Nathan and the girls to their respective homes, he pulled the van into his U-shaped driveway, saw a white sedan with a rental sticker, and parked behind it. A tall man with a craggy face and a head full of white hair was leaning against the trunk, his arms crossed and a carry-on at his feet.

“That's my dad!” Carly cried out.

As she leaped out of the van, Ryan locked eyes with Paul Mason through the tinted windshield.

The reverend offered a single curt nod. As Ryan nodded back, Kyle leaned forward for a better look. “He looks mean. Did you know he was coming?”

“I invited him.” But Paul Mason's arrival now was a surprise.

The boys piled out the side doors, but Ryan stayed in the driver's seat, watching as Paul Mason hugged Carly so hard that her feet lifted off the black asphalt. It was the kind of hug that squeezed the life out of a person, or maybe it squeezed life
into
a person. The reverend didn't look at all like the country preacher Ryan expected. He was taller, more trim, and well dressed in navy slacks and an oxford shirt tailored to his lean frame. He could have been a college professor, a surgeon, even a high-priced attorney.

Bracing himself for inspection—rotten timing, considering his five-day beard and how badly he needed a shower—Ryan headed toward them with Kyle and Eric in his wake. With her eyes beaming, Carly introduced the boys first.

“Daddy, this is Kyle.” They shook hands.

“And Eric.” Another handshake.

Their good manners made Ryan proud. “Go on in,” he told them. “We'll unpack later.”

They walked off, leaving Ryan face-to-face with Carly's father. Paul Mason's piercing eyes didn't miss a thing, but Ryan, too, had excellent vision.

Carly laid her hand on her father's arm. “Daddy, this is Ryan.”

“Reverend Mason.” Ryan thrust out his hand.

Paul Mason took it and shook. Hard.

Ryan shook back. Harder.

“Call me Paul,” the reverend said. “My daughter says fine things about you.”

“She's told me a lot about you, too.” He knew her father liked to fish, enjoyed cigars, and would fight for his family to the death. So would Ryan, and he wanted his family to include Carly. “She's a very special woman. You must be proud of her.”

“Oh, I am.” He smiled, but those silver eyes shot daggers.

Carly interrupted. “Daddy, what's going on? I know Ryan invited you to visit, but this is a surprise.”

The hard lines of his face melted into a tender look meant just for his daughter. “My daddy-radar's been going off for a week now.”

Carly laughed. “I know what
that
means.”

“What?” Ryan asked.

The look she gave him was hesitant, even shy. “Daddy-radar means he's been worrying about me. He's usually right, too.”

The men locked eyes like a pair of lions prowling in a circle. Neither of them wanted to fight, at least not yet. But the possibility
burned in their eyes. “The guest room's all yours,” Ryan said graciously. “I hope you're planning to stay with us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Good. The boys and I need to unpack.” Then he'd shave, shower, pull out some good cigars, and invite the reverend for what Carly called a sit-down. “Carly can get you settled. If you'll excuse me—”

She shot him a grateful look, but the reverend interrupted. “Hold on, Ryan. I came to see you, not my daughter.”

Carly's mouth fell open. “But, Daddy! We just got back.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He kept his gaze on Ryan. “But when a man makes a call asking to meet a girl's father, he deserves to make his own first impression.”

“But—”

“Go on,” he scolded her. “Everything's going to be all right.”

She glared at her father before turning to Ryan with the anguish of the past twenty-four hours stamped on her sunburned face. Ryan laid his hand on her arm. “We'll be fine.”

“I just think—”

“It's okay.” He didn't need Carly to protect him. “Your dad and I want to get to know each other.”

After a final imploring look, she headed for the atrium. Ryan watched until she stepped into the house; then he faced Paul. Those gray eyes stared at him, not with hostility but with compassion, like a hospital chaplain sent to deliver bad news. Bracing himself for what Carly would call a sit-down, Ryan indicated the house. “Come on in. We can talk in my office.”