She stopped. She’d already said more than she intended. She
wouldn’t talk to Ryan about Jason.
It was Ryan’s fault—for being here, for insisting on offering
friendship, for making her long to confide in someone. She shook her head.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t be unloading that on you.”
“Hey, we’re friends, aren’t we?” He touched her chin lightly,
tipping her face up so that she looked into his eyes. “Friends can level with
each other.”
“I guess so.”
The words came out breathlessly. She wanted to tell him that she
was fine, that she didn’t need any help or anyone to lean on, but the words
wouldn’t seem to come. They got lost in the nearness of him.
The deep blue of Ryan’s eyes seemed to grow even darker, more
mysterious. His fingers stroked her cheek, warming where they touched.
She wanted to lean into his embrace and feel his arms close
around her. Feel his lips on hers. He was going to kiss her—
Ryan pulled back, looking dazed and a little confused, as if
he’d lost track of where he was and what he was doing.
“I—” He cleared his throat. “I guess I can see why you feel you
have to stand on your own feet.”
She struggled for composure, looking anywhere but at Ryan. “I
have to. I can’t count on them for any help, with Mandy or anything else.”
They were talking about her parents. Not about them. Not about
how Ryan had almost kissed her and then pulled away.
She glanced at the clock. “Well, it’s getting late.” He
obviously regretted what had almost happened. She’d give him an excuse to
leave.
“I guess so.” He stood, and she could feel his relief. “Good
night, Laura.” In an instant he was gone.
Punching her pillow was doing absolutely nothing to help her get
to sleep. Laura sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. The red
numbers on the digital alarm clock informed her that it was nearly three in the
morning.
She simply couldn’t get those moments with Ryan out of her mind,
no matter how she tried. She pressed her hand against her cheek, seeming to
feel the warmth of his fingers. Denying the attraction she felt for him would
be lying to herself, and she didn’t do that.
All right, she was attracted to him. This feeling wasn’t the
hero worship she’d felt for him in high school. She wasn’t even sure she
believed in heroes any longer. But she was drawn inexorably to his easy smile
and to the goodness she sensed behind it.
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” The scripture verse
popped into her mind unbidden. It was probably something she’d learned in
Siobhan Flana-gan’s church-school class, now that she thought about it. Ryan’s
mother had loved memorizing scripture, and she’d tried to pass that love along
to a rambunctious group of early teens.
You never know when those words will come back
to help you,
she’d said.
What would Siobhan say now if she knew how far Laura had
wandered from her teachings? She tried to push the thought away, but it clung.
Siobhan would care—that she knew without thinking about it.
Siobhan and Laura’s mother had been the same generation, living
in the same town, attending the same church, but they’d been miles apart in
temperament. Laura’s throat tightened, remembering the emotional storms her
mother had used to get her way, remembering the distress in her father’s face
whenever he tried to deal with them.
She would be a better role model than that for her daughter. She
might not have the faith of someone like Siobhan, but she would do that.
She slipped out of bed and went barefoot across the hall, easing
open the door to Mandy’s room. The night-light glowed softly, and the zebras
and elephants kept watch. She tiptoed across the hooked rug.
Mandy lay on her side, teddy bear snuggled against her, one hand
still on the puppy book. Laura smoothed the patchwork quilt over
her—unnecessary, but she loved to feel the even rise and fall of Mandy’s
breathing.
Love choked her throat, fierce and protective. She had to make
things right for Mandy. No matter who had let her down, she wouldn’t let Mandy
down. She bent to drop a feather-light kiss on her daughter’s curls.
I’ll make it right, my darling. I promise.
She went back to her own bedroom, still wired up and far from
sleep. Once she’d have sought refuge in prayer or scripture at moments like
this, but the barriers she’d put up between herself and God prevented that.
How could You let us down? Mandy is an
innocent child. Where is Your help when we need it?
She rubbed her forehead. She shouldn’t—
The outside lights came on, blazing through the windows that
overlooked the alley, startling her into a throat-choked stillness.
She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the thumping of
her heart. Ridiculous, to be so upset because the lights had come on. Maybe it
was Ryan’s stray cat.
But he’d been kidding about that. He’d said so. He’d said they’d
set the lights high enough that they wouldn’t be triggered by something so low
to the ground. Only by something larger. Like a man.
Heart in her throat, she crossed the room on tiptoe, as if
someone outside could hear. She stopped at the window, stepping to the side so
that she wouldn’t cast a shadow on the shade. Carefully she eased the shade
away from the window an inch so that she could look out.
The lights Ryan and Seth had installed illuminated the alleyway
behind the house, casting every object into sharp relief. Nothing moved.
She leaned forward a little, scanning the area at the edge of
the light. Was that something—a darker shadow within the shadows just beyond
the circle of light? She held her breath, eyes straining to detect movement.
Nothing. She couldn’t stand here all night, watching a shadow to
see if it moved.
Steeling herself, she grasped the window frame and shoved. The
window shrieked, resisting her. She forced it up and leaned out to look again.
The shadow she thought she’d seen was gone.
Ryan pushed open the glass door to the department headquarters
building and then stopped. Lieutenant North was coming out, his face possibly
even a little grimmer than it usually was.
“Flanagan.” His curt nod substituted for a good morning. “Come
on. It seems your girlfriend had an alarm in the night. She called in about
it.”
Ryan tried to speak evenly in spite of the fact that his heart
was clenching. “She’s not my girlfriend. Are they all right?”
Please, Father.
North nodded, stopping at Ryan’s car. Obviously he expected him
to drive. Ryan unlocked the doors and slid in, turning the ignition key even
before the other man was settled.
“What happened?” He tried, without success, to keep the tension
out of his voice.
North snapped his seat belt. “She claims the motion lights in
the alley went on around three in the morning. Says she thought she saw someone
there. And she’s found something she wants to show us.”
“What?”
“She didn’t say.” North settled back with an abstracted frown.
Maybe it was just as well that the lieutenant didn’t go in for
idle chatter. His mind was spinning with images of the previous evening.
At least they’d put the lights up. Even if this turned out to be
a false alarm, they’d taken that extra precautionary step. And Laura had been
grateful, in spite of the fact that he’d had to talk her into letting them do
it.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. After what he’d
been able to read between the lines about her family, maybe he understood that
fierce independence of hers a little better. The people in her life had let her
down, and she was determined to stand on her own.
Still, she had begun to open up to him. Well, she had until he’d
behaved like an idiot and let himself be distracted by the attraction he felt,
instead of concentrating on what she needed.
Idiot. Jerk. Calling himself names didn’t seem to help. At least
he hadn’t kissed her. That was one small thing to congratulate himself for.
Seth had been right, little though he wanted to admit it. Laura
didn’t need romance in her life right now, not unless it was the real thing.
She needed a friend. Maybe, if he could keep his mind off his
own reactions, he could be that.
He pulled up in front of Laura’s building, tension riding his
nerves. What had happened after he’d left last night?
She was obviously watching for them, because she opened the door
quickly and ushered them inside.
“Back in the old kitchen.” She led the way. “I don’t want Mandy
to realize something is wrong.”
He glanced up the stairs, but all was quiet. Mandy, cocooned in
her silent world, hadn’t heard them.
“The outside lights came on around three this morning.”
Laura was already talking as the door swung shut behind them.
Probably she needed to go over the events a few times in order to wipe away the
fear. He’d seen that in rookie firefighters after they’d gone through a bad
experience. Each telling made the hard thing easier to take.
“But you didn’t see anyone in the alley that you could
identify?” North leaned against the counter, pulling out the omnipresent
notebook.
“No.” A shudder seemed to run through her.
Ryan had to resist the impulse to move closer to her. He was
here on duty, not as a friend.
“Nothing moved in the light?” he probed.
She shook her head. “I thought I saw something or someone in the
shadows at that end of the alley.” She jerked a nod toward South Street. “When
nothing moved, I opened the window. It took a minute or two, and by the time I
leaned out and looked again, whatever I’d seen was gone.”
“Gone?” North’s tone was crisp. “Or never there?”
Laura’s chin came up. “This morning I went out and checked. I
found this.”
She lifted a plastic trash bag to the scarred table. It clanked
metallically as she set it down. She pulled the plastic away, and Ryan’s nerves
clenched. Inside the bag sat a battered can of paint thinner.
S
pring
sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of Grace Church’s
children’s wing. Laura went down the hall, her feet seeming to find the way by
instinct. It had been years since she’d been in this building, but still, she
knew the way to the kindergarten classroom.
Why had she come? She knew the answer, or at least the one she’d
told herself this morning. She’d come because Ryan had been right—if she wanted
to express her thanks to the church members who’d helped her, coming to the
service was the way to do it.
Another reason lurked at the back of her mind, and it was one
she had to force herself to acknowledge. She’d wanted to see a few friendly
faces after that chilling experience two nights ago.
And after Lieutenant North’s response to it. The arson
investigator had promised increased police patrols. He’d taken the
paint-thinner can for examination. But the whole time she’d been talking to
him, she’d been overwhelmed with the conviction that he didn’t believe a word
she said.
Ryan might level with her about what his boss thought, if she
had an opportunity to talk with him alone. Well, she’d make an opportunity. She
and her child were the ones in danger. She had a right to know what was going
on.
She paused outside the kindergarten classroom, peeking
cautiously through the glass in the door. She hadn’t wanted to leave Mandy in
the Sunday school class without her, but Nolie had been there, eager to sign
for Mandy. Somehow, quite without her knowing how, she’d been eased out of the
room.
Now the group of four- and five-year-olds clustered in a circle
around the teacher, heads bowed. Nolie’s hands moved in the words of a prayer.
Laura’s throat clenched. Mandy held hands with the children on
either side of her. She looked content, as if she’d found a place where she belonged.
The prayer ended. Mandy looked up, saw her and ran toward the
door, her face alight. Laura opened the door and stepped inside to catch her
daughter in a hug.
“Did you have a good time?”
Mandy nodded, her hands flying in an attempt to tell everything
they’d done. Nolie approached, smiling.
“She certainly did. She participated in every activity.” She
patted Mandy’s head. “Why don’t you get your papers and show your mommy?”
Mandy nodded and darted to the bulletin board where envelopes
marked with each child’s name held batches of church-school papers.
“This
really went all right?”
Nolie smiled. “Perfectly. I hope you’ll bring her again. I think
this was a good experience for her.”
It was an experience she hadn’t provided for Mandy in the past. She’d
wanted to protect her from the buffeting of children who wouldn’t understand
about her deafness. Maybe she’d been underestimating her small daughter.
Mandy shoved papers at her, her hands flying as she explained
each of them. Then she smiled at Nolie and took her hand.
“I’ll be teaching children’s church today.” Nolie patted her
expanding waistline. “I told Gabe I’m getting in some mommy practice. Mandy
would like to stay with me, if that’s all right with you.”
No!
The instinctive
response startled her. And made her feel ashamed, as well. She shouldn’t hold
Mandy back from doing something she wanted just because she wasn’t used to
being apart from her daughter.
“Fine.” She managed a smile and gave Mandy a hug. “I’ll see you
after church, then.”
When she reached the hallway, somehow she wasn’t surprised to
find Ryan waiting for her. The navy blazer, white shirt and red tie suited him,
but made him seem almost like a stranger. She’d gotten used to the fire-man’s
uniform that he wore like a second skin when he was on duty.
“How did it go?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Very well, I guess. Thanks to your sister-in-law.” She turned
somewhat reluctantly toward the sanctuary, and Ryan fell into step with her.
“Nolie’s
the best. Gabe is a lucky man.”
A man that Ryan had no desire to emulate, apparently, at least
when it came to settling down. She glanced at him, wondering what lay behind
that easy smile. She’d learned a lot about Ryan in the past weeks—his
friendliness, his persistence, his physical courage. But there was more to Ryan
than the obvious.
They mounted the stairs, coming out into the long hallway lined
with stained-glass windows that led to the sanctuary. She looked at the carved
wooden door at the end of the hallway, and her steps slowed.
Ryan slanted a glance toward her. “What’s up?”
“What do you mean?” He couldn’t possibly guess her half-formed
thoughts.
“If we go any slower, we’ll be going backward. Don’t you want to
hear a sermon from my cousin? Or are you trying to get out of sitting with the
Flanagans?”
“Neither.” She shook her head. Okay, he did guess her thoughts.
“I’m just a considerably different person from the teenager who used to be here
every time the church doors were open. That’s all.”
Ryan came to a halt, propping one hand against the nearest
window frame as if prepared to stay there all day. “Why is that?”
Annoyance flickered through her. “I’m not sure that’s any of
your business.”
If she’d hoped to make him angry, she didn’t succeed. His
interested expression didn’t change.
“Maybe not. But I’d still like to know what you’ve got against
God.”
His perception took her breath away. Or maybe she was a lot more
obvious than she’d thought.
“Do you really have to ask that question?” She looked at the
rose and green glass of the window, hoping to hide the tears that filled her
eyes.
Ryan’s hand brushed hers. “I don’t know why Mandy was born deaf.
I don’t know the why of a lot of bad things, but that doesn’t mean God’s to
blame.”
She fought to hold the words back, but they spilled out anyway.
“I asked Him for help when I was desperate. Over and over again. He never
answered.” She shook her head angrily, cutting off any answer he might make.
“Forget it. You don’t have answers. No one does. We’d better get inside before
the service starts.”
She whirled toward the door, eager to get away from Ryan and
that embarrassing moment of self-revelation. Ryan reached around her to grasp
the handle. He held it for a moment, so that she was forced to wait.
“You’re probably right,” he said slowly. “I don’t have answers.
But I know what my mother would say to that question. She’d say that other
people are God’s hands on earth.”
He yanked the door open and ushered her through before she could
think of a response.
Laura still hadn’t found an answer to the questions Ryan’s
comment had raised as she followed his car down a country road after the
service. She tried to stow the thoughts away for later consideration. She had
more pressing things on her mind now.
Ryan had seemed surprised when she’d accepted his invitation to
Nolie and Gabe’s farm after church. As he’d told her, the Flanagan family got
together en masse every Sunday for dinner, and when the weather was nice, they
went to the farm.
She wasn’t really interested in the farm or in the puppies Ryan
had promised to show Mandy. What she wanted was to corner Ryan long enough to
find out what was happening with the investigation.
She looked in the rearview mirror. Mandy sat quietly, absorbed
in coloring the papers she’d brought from church school. At the moment she was
carefully filling in purple flowers around an image of Jesus and the children,
her little face intent.
She’d done that at Mandy’s age, she remembered, saving all the
pictures and papers so that she could play Sunday school at home with her
dolls. Something seemed to twist in her stomach. This was the first time Mandy
had been to Sunday school. She’d evaded the subject of her daughter’s spiritual
development, letting her own feelings interfere.
She could take Mandy back to Grace Church, of course. But doing
so meant confronting her own feelings, and she didn’t think she was ready to do
that.
Why, God? Why haven’t You helped me?
The familiar
refrain began in her mind, but it was interrupted this time by Ryan’s words.
My mother would say…that other people are God’s hands
on earth.
The words pressed against her, demanding attention. She shook
her head, as if to shake them away.
Mandy looked up at the movement, her dark-brown eyes reflected
in the mirror. Laura smiled at her.
“We’re almost there. Look, Ryan is turning in.” Even when she
couldn’t sign, she talked to Mandy, hoping some understanding came through.
Mandy leaned forward to look out the window, gazing entranced at
the colorful sign on the gatepost. Nolie’s Ark, it said, and a variety of
smiling animals poked their heads out of the painted ark.
Laura pulled up next to Ryan’s car under the branches of an oak
tree that was just leafing out. As she slid from the car, Ryan was already
there, helping Mandy out of the back seat.
Mandy tugged at Ryan’s hand impatiently. “Dog,” she said
carefully.
Ryan blinked, glancing at Laura. “I’ve never heard her talk
before.”
“She doesn’t very often, but sometimes she tries. She’d started
to talk before her hearing worsened, so that gave her a head start. It’s good
for her to verbalize.” She ruffled Mandy’s curls. “Good talking, sweetheart.”
“Dogs it is,” Ryan said, and she thought his heartiness covered
emotion he didn’t want to show. “I happen to know there are puppies in the
barn.”
Laura glanced toward the picnic tables, where what seemed a
horde of Flanagans already milled around, putting out food. “Shouldn’t we go
and speak to your family first? I ought to help.”
He clasped Mandy’s hand, swinging it. “Helping can wait. We’ve
got puppies to see first.”
Mandy grabbed her hand. “Puppies,” she said.
Hearing her daughter verbalize again overcame any compunction
she might feel. “Right. Puppies.”
Ryan led them across the lawn toward a red wooden barn. “Relax.
Everyone understands, and they don’t expect you to help. Just to enjoy.”
“They’re nice to include us.”
Nolie came out a screened door at the side of the white
farmhouse just then, carrying a tray. Gabe immediately took it from her. He
bent to drop a kiss on her cheek and a quick, gentle pat on her rounded
stomach. Nolie glanced their way and waved.
Laura waved back, her throat tightening.
“Sickening, isn’t it?” Ryan grinned. “They’ve been married for
nearly a year and they still act like newlyweds.”
“They’re obviously very happy.”
She thought of what Nolie had said about Gabe’s reaction to
having a daughter. Had Jason ever been that happy about her pregnancy? He’d
wanted a son. Maybe—
She cut that thought off ruthlessly. She would never let herself
think that their lives might have been different if Mandy had been a boy. Or if
Mandy had been born hearing.
Mandy was perfect. If Jason hadn’t been able to see that, it was
his misfortune.
Mandy, running ahead of them, stopped, staring into the
white-fenced paddock, her eyes huge and round. Ryan grinned, lifting her so
that she could see over the fence a little better.
“Those are miniature horses, Mandy.” He glanced at Nolie. “Maybe
you’d better translate. I don’t think my signing extends far enough for that.”
A gray donkey came to lean its head over the rail fence, looking
at them inquiringly. Ryan patted its soft ears and guided Mandy’s hand to
stroke them.
“His name is Toby. He likes boys and girls.” He ran his hand
down the donkey’s back. “See the way there’s a cross in his fur? People say
that’s because a donkey carried Jesus on Palm Sunday.”
Her throat clenched as she signed the words. Ryan’s words were
another reminder of all that was missing in her daughter’s life. Obviously they
couldn’t be around the Flanagan family without constant reminders of the faith
they lived.