The Secret Sin

by Darlene Gardner

  “Honestly?” Wojo shrugged. “Not good. Unless somebody saw who took the keys, I can’t prove anything.”

  “That’s unacceptable,” the tourist fumed. “I won’t stand by and let this happen. I demand—”

  “I’ll reimburse you the cost of the camera,” Annie interrupted. “Just give me a way to contact you and I’ll have my insurance agent call you. I’m sure he can take care of this to your satisfaction.”

  The bluster left the man. “Well, okay. I’ll do that.”

  “I’ll write up the report,” Wojo said. “You’ll need it for the insurance claim.”

  “Thank you,” Annie said.

  In the flurry of activity over the next hour, she barely had time to prepare for her inevitable confrontation with Jason.

  Then, suddenly, she and Jason were alone in the shop. She might not be ready, but it was time.

  Jason flipped his long hair out of his eyes. “I’m gonna take off if that’s okay.”

  “Actually, I need to talk to you first.”

  “I don’t have the money to pay for that camera, if that’s what you’re going to ask,” he said.

  “That’s not it,” Annie said, although she would have been in her rights. She took a deep breath. “Things aren’t working out. I have to let you go.”

  He huffed out a breath. “You’re freaking kidding me! Because I made one mistake?”

  “You made a lot more than one mistake,” Annie said. “You didn’t get the bikes serviced. You usually come in late. Half the time you won’t wear the company T-shirt. You’re not exactly rude to the customers but you’re not friendly, either. You don’t even seem to like working here.”

  “That’s a load of bull.” Jason showed a fire he’d never displayed before. If he’d been this passionate about his job, things could have turned out differently.

  “I’ll mail your last paycheck,” she said.

  “You’d better,” he growled, then he strode through the shop, banging through the door and letting it slam shut behind him.

  Annie sank onto the stool behind the counter and gazed down at the floor, massaging her forehead. She had too much on her plate. The demands of the business. Lindsey’s imminent departure. And Ryan.

  She still didn’t know what she was going to do about Ryan.

  She didn’t immediately look up when she heard the door open, fairly certain Jason had returned to argue his case further.

  “Annie?” It was Ryan’s voice, filled with urgency. “Are you all right?”

  He appeared before her as though he’d materialized out of the ether, but he looked strong and solid. And dear.

  “I’m fine.” She tried to summon a smile but found that she couldn’t. “Okay, I’m not so great. It’s been a really bad couple of hours.”

  “Does this have something to do with that kid who works for you? He looked pretty mad.”

  “He doesn’t work for me anymore,” Annie said, and told him what had happened.

  He circled the counter and sat down on the stool next to her. “You did what had to be done.”

  “I know,” she said on a sigh, “but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Running a business isn’t easy.”

  “You’re telling me. I’m thinking Dad should just go ahead and sell the place.”

  “So it’s true?” Ryan asked, an edge to his voice. Although the cream-colored shirt and khakis he’d worn to work still looked fresh and crisp, he didn’t seem like his usual cool, collected self. “You really do have an offer for the business?”

  She was about to ask where he’d heard that, then figured it didn’t matter. “I got a call yesterday from an agent who said he had a buyer if we were interested in selling. Since Dad’s away, the Realtor asked me to come into town to talk to him about it.”

  “And?” he prodded.

  “It’s a good deal, especially with the economy the way it is and the business being seasonal,” she said. “It takes a lot to run a place like this by yourself, and Dad’s getting on in years. He might not be up to it anymore.”

  Ryan sat forward on his stool. “Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “You thought I wouldn’t care if your dad sold the business and you left Indigo Springs?” He sounded incredulous.

  “I didn’t think that far ahead,” she said. “Besides, you might not stay in town. At the Blue Haven you said you had feelers out for a job.”

  “I’m keeping my options open,” he said and paused before continuing, “in case I find myself contemplating a move to, say, Australia.”

  He gazed at her expectantly, his eyes never leaving hers, as though that should mean something.

  “Australia?” she repeated. “Why would you move there?”

  He frowned. “Doesn’t the company you work for publish a magazine in Australia called Outback Women?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head bemusedly, “but there is a mail-order catalogue called Outback Women. I’ve ordered clothes from them before.”

  She’d never seen another person’s eyes grow so round. “Outback Women is a store?”

  “I don’t remember paying additional shipping charges, so I’m pretty sure it’s based in the United States,” Annie said. “Where did you get the idea it was a magazine?”

  He threw back his head and laughed aloud, a noisy, boisterous sound. “From Edie Clark.” He sounded embarrassed. “She’s the one who told me you and your dad were selling the business.”

  “At least there’s a grain of truth to that.” Annie felt as though she was missing something obvious. “What did you just say about moving to Australia?”

  “I thought about it all afternoon,” he said. “I even looked up how to become a licensed physician in Australia on the Internet. I was considering applying to the flying-doctor service that serves the Outback.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  He laughed again. “That’s because I’m relieved that you’re not moving to Australia to write for Outback Women. Because if you were, I was going to do my damnedest to find a way to come with you.”

  The air in the shop seemed to grow thicker, or maybe that was the lump forming in her throat. Last night she’d accused him of being interested in her because of Lindsey. Today he was offering to leave the country for her.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I’d rather stay in the United States, but I realized something when I thought you were leaving.”

  “What’s that?” Annie could hardly get the question past her lips.

  “You were wrong last night.” He picked up her hand and gazed into her eyes. She could tell he was nervous. “Lindsey isn’t the reason I want to be with you. I want to be with you because I love you.”

  A wave of happiness washed over her, but she fought it. She needed to think through this logically.

  “It’s only been a week since we saw each other again,” Annie said. “Nobody falls in love that fast.”

  “We’ve known each other a lot longer than a week.” Ryan’s grasp on her hand tightened. He radiated sincerity. “I’m not saying I’ve been carrying a torch for you all this time. I haven’t. I had feelings for you as a teenager, but that wasn’t love. This is.”

  She bit her trembling lower lip, unable to believe him but unwilling to reject his claim that he loved her. She’d yearned to hear him say exactly that last night. She’d dreamed about it long before then, back when she was sixteen.

  “I want to be with you, Annie, wherever you are.” He didn’t try to take her in his arms, perhaps sensing that she wasn’t ready to make a commitment. “We can take it slow, if that’s what you want. As long as we’re living in the same city.”

  Another roadblock in a route littered with them. “I live on the road.”

  “What if you didn’t?” he asked. “You love being on the river. What if you helped your father run the business?”

  The sugges
tion was immediately appealing, especially since she wouldn’t have to give up writing. She could dedicate herself to Indigo River Rafters in the warmer-weather months, work as a ski instructor in the winter and freelance whenever she found the time.

  “I’m sure my sister would be agreeable to a partnership,” Ryan said. “Think about it, Annie. We could both stay here in Indigo Springs. Together. It could work.”

  She stopped her imagination from taking flight and running with the idea, a danger when so many doubts still plagued her. “What about Lindsey?”

  “We can figure that out later,” he said. “You’re what’s important to me right now.”

  She let her hand remain in his, but her eyes must have conveyed her doubts. It was too much, too fast.

  “I don’t blame you for being slow to trust me.” He drew in a deep breath. “Can you do something for me, though?”

  She watched the emotions play across his face. The only one she could positively identify was hope.

  “Will you think about it?” he asked.

  After a long moment, she nodded.

  THE FLAT-SCREEN TELEVISION in the basement of the Whitmore house was a monster, fifty-two inches of high-definition digital picture that could highlight the most minute facial flaw.

  The actors in the movie Annie was watching with Lindsey and Ryan Saturday night didn’t seem to have any imperfections. Annie shuddered to think what the quality of the picture would do to her port-wine stain.

  “Is it almost over?” Ryan sounded hopeful although it had been his idea to rent this particular movie and to watch it on the big screen his sports-junky father had bought before he died. Tonight no sports were on, unless Meryl Streep’s ruthless treatment of her fashion-magazine staffers counted.

  “Shh.” Lindsey shoved a fistful of popcorn—low-fat, no butter—into her mouth. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

  Ryan had missed quite a lot already. He’d nearly fallen asleep twice. Annie knew this because over the course of the movie he’d edged closer until his arm was around her and she was snuggled against his side.

  Nobody had mentioned that Lindsey was leaving in a mere two days, but Annie felt sure it was the reason Ryan had gone to pains to make the evening special.

  The fancy dinner at the nearby mountain resort had been a nice touch. Arranging to sit through a movie that didn’t interest him for clothes-loving Lindsey’s sake had transformed the evening into something out of the ordinary.

  He was, Annie thought, the right kind of guy.

  Last night he’d asked her to think about a future with him. Could she do that? She looked at him and saw all she’d ever wanted in a man. Could she pass up the chance to love him and be loved by him in return?

  The closing credits rolled by on the screen, and Lindsey let out an audible, dreamy sigh. “Weren’t those outfits great? I would love to wear stuff like that.”

  “You missed the point.” Annie could barely focus while her mind was full of Ryan. “Meryl Streep’s assistant was happier when she didn’t look like a fashion model.”

  “Oh, I got that,” Lindsey said airily. “Except I’d be happier with the wardrobe. I wouldn’t want to write for a fashion magazine, though, although I think you should, Annie. I’d want the people at the magazine to write about me.”

  Ryan laughed at her cheeky statement. Annie was sitting so close to him, she could feel the reverberations travel down her own body.

  “Nothing wrong with having aspirations,” Ryan said. “Speaking of modeling, I thought I heard Sierra come home a little while ago.”

  Annie had heard her, too, even though Sierra had gotten the okay the day before to stop wearing her walking cast. A drawback to hardwood floors throughout the house was that they amplified noise.

  “She said you asked her to look for the scrapbook our mom made of her ads,” Ryan told Lindsey. “I was supposed to tell you she found it.”

  “Cool!” Lindsey shot to her feet. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  She pounded up the basement steps, making enough noise to drown out the music that accompanied the movie credits. If she aspired to the runway, she’d have to learn to be lighter on her feet.

  Ryan switched off the television, plunging the room into sudden silence. Now that they were alone, Annie expected him to raise last night’s topic. She’d turned it over in her mind so many times her brain hurt. Should she speak up and tell him she’d decided to give their relationship a shot?

  Is that what she’d decided?

  He’d been idly playing with the hair at her nape, sending delicious shivers through her. Now his hand moved to her face, his fingers sliding lightly over her port-wine stain.

  “You should have that removed,” he said.

  The delicious languor left her.

  “There have been terrific advances in laser surgery in the past ten years,” he said. “It may take a few treatments to get it completely taken off, but you could have it done as an outpatient.”

  If he’d slapped her, she couldn’t have felt more stunned.

  “I hadn’t realized it still bothers you.” Her throat felt so constricted she didn’t sound like herself.

  “Still?” He regarded her quizzically. “It’s never bothered me.”

  “Then why bring it up?”

  Offended when he didn’t immediately answer, she jerked away from him, feeling as though she might double over in pain. After all that had happened, had it really come down to how he felt about her birthmark? “I should have known it would never work between us.”

  “Because I mentioned your birthmark? That’s unfair!”

  She got up and backed away from him, only stopping because she had no place to go with the big-screen TV behind her. “I should never have believed you loved me. If you did, you’d accept me just the way I am.”

  “I’m a doctor, Annie. I’m trained as a healer.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. “I wouldn’t have mentioned your port-wine stain if Lindsey hadn’t told me you were self-conscious about it. I don’t care whether you get rid of it or not.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked backward. “How could I ever believe that?”

  He stared at her for what felt like a long time. “You know what I think? I think you don’t want to believe it. I think you’re using the birthmark as a smoke screen to keep me away.”

  Her blood pumped and her anger rose at his ridiculous suggestion. “Why would I do something like that?”

  “Because you’re afraid.”

  “Oh, please,” she said sarcastically even though it felt as if her heart was breaking. “Protecting myself from getting hurt has nothing to do with fear. It’s simply good sense.”

  “That’s not what you’re afraid of,” he said. “You’re afraid pursuing a relationship with me would mean telling Lindsey she’s our daughter.”

  She started to say they couldn’t tell Lindsey anything, then stopped herself, determined not to encourage his nonsensical argument.

  “Hey guys,” Lindsey called from the top of the stairs. “Come up here and see these photos of Sierra. They’re really good.”

  They stared at each other in silence, his gaze challenging, hers defiant. Two nights ago he’d been her lover, but tonight it felt as though he was her enemy.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Annie said in as loud a whisper as she dared. “This isn’t about me and Lindsey. It’s about me and you.”

  “If that’s all it was about, you’d be in my arms right now,” he replied softly. “I know you love me. I could feel it the other night.”

  She refused to consider the possibility, casting about for another name for what she felt for him. “Attraction isn’t the same thing as love.”

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Maybe you don’t love me. Yet. But you’re falling in love with me. And that scares the hell out of you.”

  “Of course it does,” she all but hissed, heedless of what she was admitting. “You just told me I should have
my birthmark removed. How was I supposed to react to that?”

  “Like an adult,” he said. “You could have said, ‘Well, gee, Ryan, I don’t think I will,’ and the subject would have been closed.”

  “Annie! Ryan!” Lindsey called again, sounding impatient. “Hurry up!”

  “I’ll tell you what subject is closed,” Annie said. “You and me. I’ll get through the rest of the night for Lindsey’s sake, but it’s over between us.”

  She dashed up the stairs, angry at him for daring to psychoanalyze her. She was well rid of him. She ignored her traitorous heart, which seemed to break a little more with each step she climbed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SUNDAY MORNING dawned bright, but Annie still hadn’t banished the darkness of the previous night. She gazed into the bathroom mirror, her eyes instantly fastening on her port-wine stain.

  Ryan Whitmore had a lot of nerve suggesting she was using the mark as a smoke screen. It was ludicrous to allege she’d rejected him because of some convoluted theory he had about Lindsey. Why couldn’t he accept that her feelings for him weren’t strong enough to overcome her mistrust and leave it at that?

  She felt a tear trickle down her unmarked cheek and dashed it away. Lindsey was leaving tomorrow. Annie didn’t intend to waste their final day together on tears.

  She took a last look in the mirror, checking that her hair was in place and the makeup she’d used to cover the dark circles under her eyes was doing its job. She reentered her bedroom and put on a pair of strappy sandals that went well with her summery sleeveless dress. Lindsey had talked her into buying both on their shopping spree.

  Annie had arranged to take the day off, although she hadn’t thought past attending Sunday morning services. She was fairly sure Lindsey had phoned Ryan to invite him to meet them at church. She’d rather not see Ryan today, but it couldn’t be helped. He had just as much right to spend this last day with Lindsey as she did.

  Besides, she’d have to talk to him—again—about why it was imperative that Lindsey not know who they were. Refusing to consider the irony in that, she smoothed the skirt of her dress. If they didn’t depart for church soon, they’d be late.