Ryan's Crossing

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Ryan's Crossing Page 2

by Carrie Daws


  “That sounds so nice,” said Victoria.

  “Yes, it does,” said Thomas.

  “You want to come out to dinner at Faye’s, Dad?” said Amber.

  “I would not turn down her cooking,” said Thomas.

  “Are you sure she won’t mind, Amber?” said Victoria.

  “Positive. I’ll call her when we get to Micah’s if it makes you feel better.”

  “Well then,” said Thomas, “what are we waiting for?”

  The group turned to make their way around the square.

  “So how was the weather in McWilliam?” Thomas asked.

  “About normal.” Ryan shrugged. “We got a couple inches throughout December, but most of that was closer to Christmas.”

  “So you had a lot of accidents?”

  Ryan’s internal radar sensed this was leading to his not showing up for the holidays. Keep your words in check, he reminded himself. “Always do, Dad, but not always because of the snow. People also tend to do more social and emotional drinking around Christmas and New Year’s.”

  As they approached Micah’s, a dark grey Jeep Grand Cherokee parked in front of the store. Ryan watched a man just a couple inches taller than himself get out. He’s 165-170 pounds, late twenties. Muscular, maybe athletic.

  “Peter!” said Amber.

  Ryan watched as his sister ran over and waited for him at the edge of the snow berm.

  “Hey, my beautiful Ray,” said Peter. He took both Amber’s hands in his, kissing the top of one mitten-covered hand.

  “Come meet Ryan,” said Amber.

  Peter wrapped his left arm around Amber’s shoulder and turned to greet the others.

  So this is the man who finally trapped my sister in one place.

  “Ryan, this is Peter.”

  Peter extended his hand to Ryan. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Thanks,” said Ryan.

  “Did you drive up in that?” said Peter, motioning to the Mustang.

  “Yeah.”

  Peter left Amber’s side to look more closely at the car, whistling in appreciation. “She’s incredible.”

  “Thanks. It’s a bit of a hobby.”

  “Do you prefer doing body work, or more the mechanics of it?” said Peter.

  “Definitely mechanics. I looked around for a while until I found one with a decent body so I wouldn’t have to do too much to it.”

  “Does she give you much trouble in the snow?”

  “She doesn’t really like the fresh stuff, but packed down isn’t too bad. I keep good 245s on the back wheels and replace them with studless winter tires when the snow hits.”

  Peter looked in the driver’s window. “Stick shift! Nice!”

  “Yeah, I bought it as an automatic but changed it out to a five-speed.”

  “Really nice,” said Peter. “I’ve always liked the running pony’s interior.”

  Amber stepped up to Peter’s side and touched his arm. “I was going to call your mom to see if she minded guests for dinner.”

  “Actually, that’s part of my errand to come get you. When I left the office, Mom asked me to swing by here and see if everyone wanted to come out tonight. It’s Mexican night, and she said she’d made far too much of the chicken mixture to make only one pan of enchiladas.”

  “Wonderful,” said Thomas.

  Ryan laughed at his dad. “She must be a good cook.”

  “The best,” said Thomas. “Next to your mother, of course.”

  “She really is very good,” said Amber.

  “Are you sure it’s not too much?” said Victoria.

  “You have to stop worrying so much, Vic,” said Thomas.

  “Mom wouldn’t ask if she didn’t mean it,” said Peter. “And she said to tell you that she already has dessert waiting to go in the oven.”

  “What more do we need to know?” said Thomas, looking at the others.

  Victoria laughed. “All right. Let me get Keith before your stomach leaves us all standing here!”

  Chapter 3

  RYAN TOOK UP THE REAR position of the caravan as they followed Peter to his parents’ home. His mind was reeling with the bits of information he’d already gleaned from the short time he’d had with his family.

  The family looks great! I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Mom so lively. And Dad has a bounce in his step. He didn’t look nearly as tired as usual, and he actually ran up the steps to put his laptop away. I can’t remember the last time he willingly put that computer down. He’s always either writing a story or researching for hints of Rachel.

  Keith clearly liked Peter. He thought for sure the boy would choose to ride with him in the Mustang, but he hopped in Peter’s Jeep. What was it he said? I need to ride with Amber. Interesting statement. What is he—their chaperone or something? Maybe I’ve stepped into a time warp.

  Ryan pulled into the driveway and took his first good look at where his sister had been living the last couple of months. The beautiful log cabin sat peacefully on a small clearing surrounded by the forest. The windows shone brightly in the dimming light, and smoke curled out of the chimney. He turned off his engine and watched Sassy bound out of Peter’s Jeep and into the garage with Keith right behind. He feels at home here.

  Peter, Thomas, and Victoria followed Keith, but Amber stood waiting for him. “Ready to meet the in-laws?”

  He smiled at her. “You’re the one marrying into the family. I’m just tagging along for a bit. I can always leave if they’re crazy.”

  She laughed. “They’re definitely crazy. But in a good way. Consider yourself forewarned: Peter and his siblings are pranksters, taught by their grandfather.” She turned to lead the way into the house.

  “Does everyone still live in Crossing?”

  “No, most of them live near Portland, but they come down a lot. His sister, Brittney, took off most of next week for the wedding, so you should meet her in a few days. Pops, the grandfather, normally travels down with her when she comes.”

  Amber opened the door into the mudroom, stomping her boots on the welcome mat. “You can hang your coat wherever you see space. And just put your boots on any of these shelves. Frank has a drain under this floor, so as the snow melts off of them, the water just drains back into the yard.”

  “Nice.”

  Sassy popped her head through the dog door and barked.

  “We’re coming, Sass.”

  Amber turned the knob and led Ryan into a casual dining area with French doors leading to a deck. His mom sat at a breakfast bar overlooking a spacious kitchen with his dad standing behind her. An older blonde woman hovered near the sink. Five foot four, 160 pounds, mid-fifties. If the Pillsbury Doughboy were female…. Ryan grinned at his assessment.

  Both women turned to smile at them.

  “You must be Ryan,” said Faye. “Let me dry my hands.”

  She wiped her hands on a towel and came over to greet him. “It’s so nice to finally have your whole family together.” She gave Ryan a hug before wrapping an arm around Amber.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Ryan. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Why thank you, dear. How long do you get to stay?”

  “A while.”

  Ryan caught his dad’s quick glance in his direction.

  “He needs a place to stay for a couple days while Mom and Dad get another room at Micah’s cleaned out,” said Amber. “I told him we had room here.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” said Faye with a nod. “It’s Peter’s old room, and truthfully it’s not completely cleaned out yet. He’s taken most of his stuff to his new house, but he’s not been gone that long, and I just haven’t taken the time to clean it out properly. You are welcome to it if you’d like, though.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t let these women-folk push you into anything, young man.”

  An older man walked into the kitchen. Just a bit taller than me, so five foot ten? His skin looks like he’s used to working outside in the sun, and
he’s got some extra weight in the middle. What was the name of that ‘70s TV dad with all the kids where everyone said good night to everyone else?

  The man continued. “Sure enough, if you let them talk you into staying here, they’ll fill you with good food all hours of the day and night. But this sister of yours’ll roast you out of the living room stoking up the fire, and my wife’ll have you tying up little satchels of good-smelling stuff for the wedding.”

  “Oh, Frank, really,” said Faye, giggling.

  Ryan watched his sister’s smile grow. She’s happy here.

  “I’m Frank, by the way. Peter’s dad.” Frank extended his hand to Ryan.

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “So, when are y’all going to stop yammering around here and feed us?” said Frank to the women. “Lunch was a long time ago!”

  “Just give us five more minutes,” said Faye. “Amber, you go on in and show Ryan around while Victoria and I finish up the salad so we can eat.”

  Amber led Ryan into the living room where Keith and Peter sat over a chessboard.

  “This is obviously the living room,” said Amber. “And there’s a library back here.”

  Ryan followed her behind a circular staircase to a small room covered in bookshelves. “That’s an interesting picture.”

  Amber followed Ryan’s gaze to a framed drawing of a maple tree sitting in front of a log cabin. In one top corner, a child’s face smiled down on the scene.

  “I drew that,” said Amber.

  “I remember you having a talent for drawing,” said Ryan as he walked closer. “This is really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is the child someone special?”

  Amber looked at the child she’d sketched. “Her name is Jamie. She was Peter’s older sister.”

  “Was?”

  “She died when she was ten.” She looked at her brother.

  He looked back at her, a lump forming in his throat. Returning his eyes to the picture, he said, “Have you made peace?”

  “You mean with Cassie’s death?”

  Ryan nodded. “You were a lot closer to her than I was. I don’t really have many memories of my oldest sister.”

  “You were only six when the accident happened, Ryan.”

  He looked back at his sister. “I remember one conversation we had shortly before you left. You said that you tried not to think about her because it hurt too much.”

  She sighed deeply. “Part of me still hurts, but I’m not angry anymore. I told God that I would rather have grown up with her, but ultimately I choose to trust Him and His choices.”

  She trusts God? Ryan’s mind was tumbling again.

  “Hey, Ray, Ryan,” said Peter, coming around the corner to join them. “Mom’s got dinner ready.”

  Ryan followed them back to the dining room and looked at the feast laid before him. The light blue tablecloth was barely noticeable underneath the dishes piled around the place setting for eight. Fried rice, Mexican corn, guacamole, refried beans, tortilla chips, and a huge salad surrounded two large dishes full of steamy melted cheese. It looked like a Mexican-themed Thanksgiving!

  “Come on, everyone, before the enchiladas get cold,” said Faye.

  “Don’t have to call me twice,” said Thomas as he took a seat beside Frank.

  Ryan hung back to see where everyone sat, watching Peter hold out Amber’s chair for her before sitting beside her.

  “Ryan, come sit by your mother,” said Faye with a smile and a pat on the back of the empty chair. Then she took her seat.

  “All right now,” said Frank. “Let’s say grace.”

  Ryan watched Peter and his sister grab hands as they bowed their heads. It seems natural, not awkward.

  “Thank you, Father, for this food smelling so good before us and adding yet another friend to our table. Let our conversation be good and keep us safe through the night. Amen.”

  “Now everyone eat up, but save room for dessert,” said Faye. “I have caramel flan in the fridge for later.”

  “What’s flan?” said Keith.

  “It’s a Mexican dessert, mostly sugar and sweetened milk,” said Faye. “Peter, will you serve the enchiladas?”

  “Sure,” said Peter. “Let me see your plate, Mom.”

  As food began to be dished out, conversation began around the table as well.

  “Your dad said you’re a paramedic, Ryan,” said Frank.

  Ryan took the salad from his mom and added some to his bowl. “Yes, sir.”

  “Where do you work?” said Peter, handing a plate back to his mom and reaching for Ryan’s.

  “I’m down at McWilliam, just a couple hours west of here,” said Ryan.

  “Well that’s not too far,” said Faye.

  “Mom said you were really busy at Christmas,” said Amber.

  “Yeah,” said Ryan. “Besides my EMT job at the firehouse, I was pulling a bunch of extra hours at the hospital.”

  “Was that for a class you were taking?” Thomas asked, spooning some fried rice onto his plate.

  “Kinda,” said Ryan. “I was working with a couple of the doctors on diagnosis.”

  “Is that part of your training?” Peter asked as he added refried beans to his plate.

  “Paramedics only have to have an associate’s degree to get licensed. But I’ve been working toward getting my bachelor’s.”

  “What are you going to do with that?” said Thomas.

  Ryan clenched his jaw. “Not sure, Dad,” said Ryan. He hated admitting that he wasn’t sure what was driving him to complete more school, much less what he was going to do with it when he was done.

  “Well, we’re glad you’re here now,” said Faye.

  Conversation turned to wedding planning and his dad’s latest stories. Ryan relaxed a bit after the careful scrutiny on his job situation. At least they didn’t ask if I was considering moving again. I think I’ll keep that to myself until I decide whether or not to move to a larger department in Portland.

  As the evening closed down, he knew he would have to make a decision about where he was sleeping. He’d rather just drive up the road toward Portland to find a hotel, but he didn’t think that was going to fly.

  His sister—maybe he would call her Rachel-Amber until he got used to using her middle name—slipped up to him and squeezed his arm. “I’d really like it if you’d stay here with us tonight, Ryan.”

  It seems a better option than Peter’s. At least she is here, and I’m not forced into close quarters with the brother-in-law yet. “I guess the bride gets to decide,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’ll grab my bag.”

  Chapter 4

  RYAN ROLLED OVER TO CHECK the time. 8:24. I suppose I should get up. Wonder what time they get moving around here.

  He grabbed clean jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt and headed to the shower. Ten minutes later, he walked down the stairs to find Rachel-Amber curled up on a chair by the fire reading.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning, Ryan. Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Frank and Faye are already gone, but there’s fresh muffins in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

  “Got any coffee?”

  “Let’s go see.” She sat her book aside and stood up, stretching her arms above her head before striking out for the kitchen. “Frank normally cleans it out before he leaves, but I can make some more.”

  Ryan watched her move around the kitchen. “You’re really comfortable here.”

  She smiled as she poured water into the coffee maker. “Yes. When I first got here, I was a mess, but God brought me here where they just… I don’t know. Enveloped me in love, I guess.” She emptied the coffee scoop into the filter and pushed the start button. “There, fresh coffee in just a few minutes.”

  “You know, I was mad at you for a long time.” Ryan turned the basket of muffins around in his hands, focusing on the aroma wafting from the coffee maker rather than Rachel’s face.

&nb
sp; “Because I left?”

  Ryan sighed deeply. “Because you left me.”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan.”

  He looked into her eyes for a moment, clenching his jaw. She offered no excuses for her behavior, just a simple apology. He wondered the same question that had haunted him for years: Would I have done anything different if I’d been the older one?

  “I don’t blame you, Rachel-Amber. It’s really the catalyst that changed everything.” Ryan paused, lost in thought. “Still, it was lonely without you.”

  “Do you think we can make up for it? I’m enjoying having Mom and Dad here. But I’d love it if you were around as well.”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m cut out to live in Mayberry.”

  She laughed. “I thought of Sheriff Taylor when I first got here too.”

  She filled a mug and handed it to him. “Milk, sugar?”

  “Black is fine.”

  “Look, Ryan. I’m not asking you to move to Crossing. If you’re happy in McWilliam, that’s fine. It’s not so far. Whatever town is best for you is okay by me. I’m just asking if maybe we can plan to spend more time together, get together on holidays, acknowledge birthdays, that kind of thing.” Her voice trailed off as she waited for his response.

  Ryan took a sip of coffee, thinking about all they had missed. Not just the ten years she’s been gone, but all the years before that were filled with misery. “Maybe so.”

  He paused to look at her, squinting his left eye. “When’s your birthday again?”

  He waited to see how she’d react. Pain briefly reflected in her eyes. Until he smiled. Then he ducked as the kitchen towel came flying towards his face.

  Ryan couldn’t remember a better afternoon. Just relaxing with his sister and catching up on their lives soothed his spirit more than he’d thought possible. Now as they walked toward the logging office, memories came flooding back from a childhood summer camp.

  “Remember that year Dad made us go to camp?”

  Amber laughed. “The year they were infested with frogs?”

  “We had to check the beds before we could go to sleep,” said Ryan.

  Amber opened the door to the office, stomping snow off her feet before entering. “And you took one home in your backpack!”

 

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