by Barbara Gee
“I’m so glad he has someone to read to him again.”
“He called me Dad,” Ryan said proudly. “He just now said, ‘Good night, Dad.’”
Libby reached over and patted the center of his chest. “Did it get ya right there, Ry?” she asked with a warm smile. “Does your heart feel twice as big as it did before?”
He grabbed her hand and held it there, over his heart. His smile gradually faded as his dark eyes got serious. “My heart is feeling a lot of things, and not just for Hank. I’m not sure what to do with all those feelings, to tell you the truth.”
Libby refused to go there. She couldn’t allow herself to hope for more, because regardless of what he might be feeling right now, it wasn’t meant to be. They weren’t meant to be. So she chose to be somewhat flippant, hoping he wouldn’t push her.
“We’ve been through a lot together the last few days, and it’s been really emotional. That can make things weird, but it’ll all straighten out once I’m back in North Dakota.”
“You sure about that?” His voice was soft and low, his chest warm under her hand, his eyes mesmerizing.
Her smile faltered and just like that, her bravado was gone. “No, I’m not, but I’m hoping once things get back to normal for me, and once you adjust to your new normal, we can get back to being friends without all the confusing stuff.”
“Is that what you want?”
She looked down, away from his intense blue gaze. “It’s what I need,” she said softly.
Ryan lowered their hands but kept his hold on hers, twining their fingers together. “Do you regret coming here with me, Lib?”
“No, I honestly don’t. I just have a lot of questions.”
“Questions for me?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, for God.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve lost me. What kind of questions do you have for God?”
She set her computer aside and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “Mostly why He’s testing me, I guess. I don’t feel strong enough, and to be honest it makes me a little mad. I don’t regret getting to know you, or coming here with you. I’ll never regret that. But we both know you and I can’t move beyond friendship, so why couldn’t I fall head over heels for a man who’s right for me?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he did, his voice was husky and soft. “Is that what you’ve done, Libby? Fallen head over heels for me?”
She looked straight ahead, her cheeks feeling hot, her heart racing. “You’re a detective—I’m sure you figured that out before now.”
He shifted to face her, laying his arm across the back of the couch. “I’ve wondered about it, but you’re harder to read than you might think. The thing is—I know the reasons why I’ve been fighting this thing between us, but I’m not exactly sure why you are. Why are you so positive we’re wrong for each other, Lib? Is it because I’ve been unwilling to commit to anyone in the past? You don’t believe I’ll ever be able to change that?”
“No. That’s not why.” She still couldn’t look at him, because he was just too much. Too intense. Too beautiful. Too much of what she’d always dreamed of having. “Believe me, Ryan, if that’s all it was, I’d do everything in my power to convince you that being in a committed relationship is exactly what you want. And I wouldn’t give up easily, I can tell you that.”
“So what is it? Why aren’t you trying to convince me?”
She hunched forward as her tears finally spilled over. He let out a soft, rueful groan, then went to get a box of tissues.
“I don’t want to make you cry, baby, I hate when you cry. But I have to know,” he said gently, handing the box to her and sitting back down, lightly rubbing her back.
Libby wiped her eyes and scooted a little bit away from him simply because it felt way too good to have him so close.
“I don’t expect you to understand where I’m coming from, Ryan, but the thing is, I’m already in a committed relationship. With God. I have to put Him first because I want to live the kind of life He’s made possible for me through His grace. And I know I can’t do that if I’m torn between Him and a man who doesn’t share my beliefs and commitment.”
Ryan settled his hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t begrudge you your faith. I know what it means to you and I’m not that insensitive.”
“That’s not enough, though. I wish it was, but it’s just not.” She wiped her eyes and grabbed another tissue. “I need someone who will actually make me stronger in my faith, not merely put up with it.” Libby raised her wet eyes to his. “I need someone who will pray with me, and over me. Someone who challenges me and helps me to grow spiritually. Someone who wants our children to know Jesus from the very beginning, so they always have Him in their hearts. And that’s not you, Ryan, you know it isn’t. You don’t even like to talk about spiritual things. That would eventually come between us, no matter how hard we try, and I think it would break me. I know it would break me. I can’t take that chance.”
“So if I started going to church would you change your mind?” he asked, a note of bitterness in his voice.
Libby twisted the tissue in her hands, wishing she was better at putting her thoughts and feelings into words. “The simple act of going to church changes nothing. It’s your heart that needs to change, and only you and God can do that. Not me. And just so you know, I think you’re an amazing person. I don’t think I’m better than you in any way, I’m just saying we can’t meet each other’s needs.” She swallowed, her throat aching from trying to hold back more tears. “But none of this matters much anyway. You’ve said from the beginning that you don’t want a serious relationship, so my leaving should actually be a relief to you.”
Ryan winced. “So we’ve circled back to my own hang-ups,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Okay, Libby, you’ve been honest with me, so I’ll reciprocate. I’m going to tell you something I haven’t talked about in years, even though it haunts me every day of my life. No one knows this except for the guys in my military unit who were involved, and also Clara.”
Libby shook her head. “No, Ryan. If you haven’t talked about it, don’t start with me. Don’t give me a part of yourself that I shouldn’t have.”
“I want you to have it,” he said harshly. “I want you to know why I struggle with the idea of this good and loving God who is so important to you. It’s not that I don’t believe in Him, it’s that I don’t trust Him. I don’t understand how He works. I don’t know how He decides who struggles in life, and who breezes through with barely an obstacle. Who lives and who dies. Who gets a chance and who doesn’t.”
He reached over and took her chin in his fingers, his touch gentle in spite of his heavy emotion. “Look at me, Libby. Look at me and tell me why God is giving me a chance to be a father, and not my buddy Luke Toliver who died in a valley in Afghanistan? His wife was pregnant, and he wanted to be a dad more than anything. And why didn’t God let Jamie Duncan go home to the beautiful girl he was going to marry in three months? And why wasn’t it important that Wade Douglas got home to the three teenaged kids he loved so much and prayed for every day? They needed him, and he died in that valley along with Luke and Jamie. And here I sit, healthy and lacking for nothing, and now with an incredible son myself. Why, Libby?”
Ryan’s eyes showed an anguish deeper than Libby had ever seen. He turned away and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. After a long pause he went on. “It happened seven years ago, on one of the deployments I went on when I was in the Air Guard. I was a sniper, and they were my guys. I was their over-watch. My spotter and I were a few hundred feet up on a mountain while eight men made their way down to a small village where the Taliban were holding a hostage. It was going well, they were almost in position, and then all of a sudden a dirt bike came flying out from behind a building about seventy-five yards away from the first guys in. There was a pile of rubble between our guys and him, and they couldn’t see him, but that was no problem, right
? I mean, I was there and I picked him up right away. He was coming on a straight line, and I’d made that shot so many times.”
Libby’s heart sank as Ryan dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “But that time, I missed. It was a routine shot and I did everything the same as I always did, but I missed. I got him on the second shot, but by that time he’d gotten close enough that when his vest blew, it took out the first three guys. Luke, Jamie and Wade.”
She put her hand on his back. “I’m so, so sorry, Ryan.”
He exhaled and sat back against the couch, his eyes bleak. “Aren’t you going to assure me it wasn’t my fault? That the other five guys lived because I was there? That I’m only human and no one makes a hundred percent of their shots? That I have to stop beating myself up over it because I did the best I could and nothing’s going to change the outcome?”
Libby shook her head slowly. “I don’t have to. You already know all that, it’s just a matter of getting to the point where you believe it. Me saying it again won’t help. But I hate that you have to carry this burden, Ryan, I can’t even tell you how much I hate it. You guys in the military go out and fight for your country, then things like this happen that change the whole course of your lives, and your family’s lives, and it leaves scars that are so hard to heal. And that’s the reward you get for your courage. Meanwhile, the rest of us go on our merry ways, reaping the benefits of your service as if we’re owed it, letting you bear all the scars. What’s okay about that? And how do you keep from getting angry at those who don’t serve, who don’t know what it’s like?”
“No one put a gun to my head. I signed the contract of my own free will.”
“And then you missed that shot and you’ve punished yourself ever since.”
“It’s not as bad as it was,” Ryan said gruffly. “I’ve been able to get on with life, and I’ve tried to make a difference. Maybe becoming a cop was my way of trying to make up for my inadequacies. My neighbor, Clara, thinks I chose a job that can be dangerous because I feel guilty for coming home alive when my three buddies didn’t. But that’s a moot point now, I guess. I am what I am, and why I chose it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“But you obviously don’t feel you deserve to be happy and content. That’s why you’re still alone. And now Hank is in the picture and you already love him more than life, but you don’t know what to do with that pride and happiness, because you haven’t allowed yourself to feel it before. You wouldn’t allow it even now, in fact, if you’d been given a choice.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about all that, Lib. I try to avoid psychoanalyzing myself to that extent.” He was quiet for a moment, then he looked at her, a wry smile curving his lips. “But yeah, I’d say that sounds about right.”
She smiled gently. “You do deserve him, Ry. And he deserves you. You need each other and it’s okay for you both to be happy. For the first time in his life, Hank has someone to call ‘Dad.’ It’s beyond tragic that he lost his mom so young, but at least he has you.”
“I won’t let him down.”
“Of course you won’t.”
Ryan stared at the wall for a while, then sighed and pushed himself wearily to his feet, turning to face her with his hands on his hips. “I appreciate your confidence, Lib. I can always use a good pep talk.”
Libby frowned. “I don’t know if that’s what I’d call it. I’m not trying to pump you up with a false sense of invincibility. I’m just stating what I believe to be true, that you and Hank are going to make a great little family.”
He held out his hand to pull her up. “Like I said, I appreciate it. But we need to wrap it up. You have to get up early, so time for bed.” When she was standing beside him he lifted a hand and ran the backs of his knuckles along her cheek. “You have a beautiful heart, Lib. I’m going to miss you way more than I want to.”
She managed a shaky smile. “That’s good. I’d hate to be the only one feeling that way.”
They walked down the hall, once again hand in hand. Libby wasn’t sure why they ended up like that so often, but holding his hand was becoming second nature. One more thing she would miss.
They leaned in toward each other, their shoulders touching. She felt his warmth, felt his palm against hers, and realized that tomorrow all this would be gone. Her eyes welled up yet again, and she dreaded the emptiness to come. In an instant she made up her mind.
“Ryan.” She tugged his hand and they stopped outside her bedroom door. “I think maybe you were right yesterday,” she said, her voice cracking.
He looked down at her, his eyes questioning. “About what?”
She put her free hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the cotton of his tee shirt. “About always wondering what it would have been like.” She met his gaze bravely. “I don’t want to always wonder, I want to know. Even though it can never go any further, I want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”
He stepped closer, backing her up against the wall, taking her face in his hands. “You don’t have to ask twice,” he murmured, “and I’m not going to give you a chance to change your mind.”
Libby watched as he lowered his head, then her eyes slid blissfully closed as his lips touched hers. Softly at first, pressing gently, his lips smooth and firm, and then he tilted her head to adjust the angle as he claimed her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with hers. Libby’s stomach rolled over and her heart raced as she stood on her tip toes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Closer, she need to be closer.
He leaned into her, his strong body hard against her softer one, pressing her back against the wall as their kiss grew hot and hungry, feeding on the desire that had been steadily building between them ever since he’d arrived back at the ranch. It was both their first kiss and their last, and that knowledge gave the moment an intensity that Libby had never before experienced. Not even close. And she never wanted it to end.
They drew it out, one sweet minute, then two, until Libby’s blood was pumping hot and heavy through her veins and she could no longer think beyond his touch. When he finally broke away she moaned and reached for him, but he took her wrists and held them, his eyes black with passion, his breathing uneven.
“No, baby, I won’t give you a reason to hate me in the morning. I couldn’t live with that.”
Libby’s breathing gradually slowed and she closed her eyes for a long moment before working up the courage to look at him. “Thank you, Ryan,” she whispered.
He raised a brow, a corner of his mouth curving upward. “For the kiss, or for stopping?” he asked, releasing her wrists and planting his hands on the wall on either side of her head.
She hooked her hands over his biceps. “Both. That kiss was probably a big mistake, but I can’t bring myself to regret it at the moment.”
He let out a low chuckle. “I can always count on you to say what you’re thinking.”
“Maybe not everything I’m thinking,” she corrected him. What she kept to herself was that she didn’t believe she’d ever again experience such a kiss, and she was very much afraid it would always leave her with a sense of longing. A sense of loss. But she’d worry about that later. Right now she just wanted to go to bed and relive the moment and enjoy it for what it was. A magnificent, incredible kiss that made her feel everything a woman in love should feel.
“It was a great kiss,” he said softly.
“It was. Which means I need to say goodnight before I start begging for an encore.”
He gave her a wry smile. “That would probably be best.” He stepped away from her and she instantly missed the contact. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I need to leave by six o’clock. You don’t have to get up.”
“I’ll be up.”
She nodded and walked into her bedroom, turning back to him before she shut the door. “Sweet dreams.”
“You too, Libby.”
“Oh, and Ryan?” she said as he turned to go. He looked over his shoulder
and she grinned. “You can add ‘best kisser in North Carolina’ to your epitaph list.” She closed her door quickly, but not before she saw his answering grin.
Libby washed her face and brushed her teeth, feeling more than a little dazed. She was twenty-seven years old and had had her share of boyfriends, but until five minutes ago she’d had no idea a kiss could be so powerful. So intense.
She crawled into bed and sighed, closing her eyes and imagining she felt his lips on hers again. Tonight she would allow herself to relive the kiss over and over. Tomorrow, she would get on with her life.
Without Ryan Anderson.
CHAPTER 20
Ryan got up early the next morning, giving himself time to get a shower and make a pot of coffee before Libby emerged from her room. He was pouring the strong, steaming brew into one of her travel mugs when she came into the kitchen, pulling her suitcase behind her and looking a little tired. Her hair was still damp and she was dressed comfortably in jeans and a loose, fluttery white top. She was so beautiful it made him ache just to look at her.
Her face lit up when she saw the coffee. “Bless you,” she said, accepting the mug he handed her.
He held up the travel mug. “And one for the road,” he said.
“You’re my hero.”
“There are muffins left from yesterday, if you want one.” The urge to take care of her was strong and a little scary.
“No, thanks. I always get kinda nervous when I fly, so it’s better if I don’t eat and get my stomach upset.”
“I feel bad making you drive yourself to the airport. If it wasn’t for Hank, I’d take you, you know.”
“I know, but it’s not all that far, and it’s better this way. I’ve already said goodbye to him, and I feel like it would be more traumatic for us both if we were at the airport. I really hate airport goodbyes.”
“I can never thank you enough for coming here, Lib. You’ve been so great with Hank, and you got us off to a far better start than we’d have had on our own. I’m glad you didn’t let me talk you out of it.”
