Hearts Made Whole (18 page)

G
iggles from the kitchen awoke Caroline from a restless sleep. She rolled over and buried her face into the pillow. Too late she realized her mistake. She breathed in Ryan's scent, the clean, sudsy smell of his soap and shaving lotion combined.

Her toes curled, and for a long forbidden moment she imagined that the pillow was him, that he was lying in bed with her, his arms around her.

Heat spilled into her middle.

“Caroline Taylor,” she chided herself, pushing the pillow away and sitting up amidst a tangle of sheets and quilt.

Somehow Ryan's short rest in the bed one night had turned into two, and then three. At his words of pleasure at the luxury of sleeping in a real bed, she'd pushed aside the nagging doubts that told her he shouldn't be sleeping in the house, even for a minute. She'd told herself no one else needed to know, that it wasn't anything to worry about, that her overanxious mind was only making more of it than need be.

Besides, she'd prided herself on her self-control. She'd resisted daydreaming about him and had tried to think of him as
just a friend. She couldn't stop now, especially with how hard Ryan was working to keep appropriate boundaries between them.

But the heat inside her belly only charged into her blood at the remembrance of all the times his gaze had strayed to her when he thought she wasn't looking. Or the times they'd inadvertently brushed in passing. Or the moments when their eyes met, no matter how hard she'd tried to refrain, leaving her breathless with longing.

At another giggle from the kitchen, she sat up and swung her feet out of bed. In the unheated room, the floorboards felt icy against her toes. With the coming of October the first hard frost had finally come too, bringing them one step closer to winter.

And one step closer to having to leave . . .

She sighed and stood.

With each passing day, Ryan was growing stronger and more knowledgeable about the light. Though his war injury still caused him pain, and his mangled hand inhibited what he could do, she was confident that he was well on his way to recovering from the horrors of his past.

He wouldn't need her much longer.

She donned her everyday skirt and blouse, slipped on her stockings and shoes, and ran a comb through her long hair.

From the other room, Tessa's voice rose in delight and was followed by Ryan's low rumble. Caroline frowned, the comb midway through a tangle. A hot shard needled her. Not jealousy, she told herself. Only concern.

Tessa had been altogether too flirty lately with Ryan. Caroline hadn't wanted to say anything to her sister, consumed as she was with her own guilt of flirting so shamelessly at times with Ryan. But maybe it was time to rebuke Tessa again.

She made her way down the hallway, following the yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread. At her first step into the kitchen, she froze.

Ryan sat by the window with a towel across his shoulders. And Tessa stood over him, one hand in his hair, the other holding a pair of scissors. Her face glowed, and her eyes radiated excitement. Was she giving Ryan a haircut?

Sharpness pricked Caroline's chest again, and it only grew sharper when Tessa ran her fingers through his strands like a comb. She was chattering, and Ryan was grinning, obviously enjoying himself.

From the feathery hair clippings scattered on the floor, she could see Tessa had been at work for a while. Four loaves of bread perfectly browned were cooling on the table. An abandoned bowl of apple cores and peelings sat next to a pie that was filled with sliced apples but still missing the top crust.

“Tessa!” The word came out sharply.

Her sister jumped away from Ryan, her face flashing with guilt.

But Ryan didn't move. His grin only widened at the sight of Caroline. “Good morning, lazybones. It's about time you got up.”

Caroline was too mortified at Tessa's behavior to smile back. Instead she scowled at her sister. “What do you think you're doing?”

The guilt fluttered rapidly from the girl's face, replaced by sullenness. “You're not the only one who gets to help Ryan.”

“It's Mr. Chambers to you.”

“If you can call him Ryan, then I can too.”

“No, you may not. And you may certainly not cut his hair.”

Tessa's arms at her sides turned rigid, and her face flushed. Ryan's gaze swung back and forth between them.

Caroline tried to rein in her growing frustration toward Tessa. She needed to pull her sister aside and have this conversation privately, and not embarrass her in front of Ryan.

“Since I used to give Father his haircuts, I thought I could do the same for Ryan.” Tessa's dark eyes challenged her, her tone defiant. It was all too reminiscent of Caroline's own defense the day she'd given Ryan a shave.

Caroline's rebuke died inside her. How could she reprimand Tessa for cutting Ryan's hair when she'd shaved Ryan's beard? She certainly hadn't set a good example for her impressionable sister—not with the shaving or with the flirting.

She would need to try harder not to flirt with Ryan and work at being a better role model for Tessa. Until then, what right did Caroline have to admonish her? She'd only be a hypocrite if she did.

Caroline gave a long sigh. “I thought you were supposed to be watching Hugh and Harry.” She'd assigned Tessa that duty on Saturdays while she caught up on her sleep.

“They're out fishing,” Tessa replied. “They're fine.”

Ryan stirred in the chair and tugged the towel from where it was wedged in his collar. “I think we're done anyway, don't you, Tessa?”

Her sister angled her head and studied him. Caroline did likewise. Gone were the scraggly, overlong locks. Instead, his sandy hair fell in trim, attractive waves. With several days' worth of whiskers on his cheeks and chin, he still had a rugged appearance about him. But he'd shed the lost and haunted look that he'd carried. His face was no longer so thin either. The home-cooked meals were beginning to add to his strength.

A bright light shone from his eyes that reached across the room and touched her, filling her with warmth. His eyes lin
gered upon her unbound hair still hanging in disarray over her shoulders.

Seeing the direction of Ryan's attention, Tessa glowered at Caroline. “Oh, I see why you don't want me to cut Ryan's hair. You want his attention all for yourself.”

“That's not true,” Caroline retorted, but the guilt washed back through her. Did she want his attention?

Even though Tessa was pouting, her features were unmistakably pretty and her curves all too noticeable. As much as Caroline wanted Tessa to stay a girl, she was turning into a woman. Surely Ryan had noticed. How could he
not
?

“Tessa, please,” Caroline pleaded, “let's not argue anymore. Let me finish cleaning up in here, and you go check on the boys.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Admit it. You want me out of the way so that you can be alone with Ryan.”

“Tessa!” Caroline pulled herself to her full height and glared at her sister. It was the kind of glare she hoped proclaimed that she was in charge and that she'd had enough.

Tessa huffed, dropped the scissors onto the table, and stalked from the room.

After the front door banged shut, Caroline let her shoulders slump.

“Sorry for causing problems,” Ryan said, tipping back on his chair. “I wouldn't have agreed to her offer if I'd known it would bother you.”

“It's not your fault,” she said, crossing to the broom, mortified that Ryan had just witnessed her interaction with Tessa. She busied herself by sweeping the hair clippings into a pile, hoping to hide her embarrassment.

“Tessa's just growing up too fast,” she said, the inadequacy of her situation falling upon her. Tessa needed both a mother's
and father's wisdom to guide her during these years of transitioning from a girl to a woman. Instead all she had was an older sister who scolded her whenever she misbehaved.

Caroline had been doing her best to take good care of her brothers and sisters, but it never seemed to be enough.

“You're doing a good job, Caroline,” Ryan said.

She paused in her sweeping. How did he always know what she needed to hear? “I wish she had Mother.”

“She's got you. You're working tirelessly in training her to be a godly young woman.”

“And she hates me.”

“Nay, she's stretching her wings. Pushing against the limits a little. Getting ready to fly. She may not recognize the blessing you've been to her right now, but someday she will.”

Caroline leaned on the broom handle. “I'm worried that she'll do something completely reckless just to spite me.”

“She's a good girl.” Ryan sat forward, the front of his chair clunking against the floor. “She'll turn out all right. Just like you have.” He grinned, his eyes taunting her.

She smiled back, unable to resist the bait. “I'm just ‘all right'?”

“You're more than all right,” he whispered.

Her stomach fluttered. “What about wonderful? Incredible?”

His grin stretched wider. “I'll only admit how wonderful you are if you admit that you want my attention all for yourself.”

She started to sweep again, furiously but blindly. He was altogether too close to the truth, yet she couldn't admit it to him.

He gave a soft chuckle as if he'd guessed the truth, though she hadn't confessed anything. Then he rose. She thought he'd be on his way out of the house, but instead his footsteps brought him closer until his fingers closed around her arm.

At his touch, she sucked in a breath. Her body stilled so that all she could hear was the rapid beating of her heart.

He leaned in, and she could feel his breath against her hair. “So is it true that you wanted to be alone with me?”

She wanted to sway against him, to feel the hardness of his chest and the strength of his arms. Maybe Tessa was right with all of her accusations. Maybe she was simply a jealous big sister who wanted Ryan all to herself.

A scream from outside jarred Caroline. She sprang away from Ryan at the same time he did.

“Caroline! Caroline!” Tessa's shouts were filled with a panic that pummeled into Caroline.

She raced through the house and out the door. Ryan ran close behind her, and when she reached the front lawn of the house, he was beside her.

Tessa stood on the rocky shore, screaming and pointing to the lake. “Harry and Hugh! Their boat is sinking.”

At the sight that met Caroline, her airways closed up and her knees buckled. Ryan caught her before she collapsed.

At least a hundred feet from the shore, Harry and Hugh were scooping water out of the rowboat, which was quickly sinking. They were already knee-deep in water, with the boat growing heavier by the second and nearing the level of the lake.

All Caroline could think about was the image of her father clinging to the bottom of the cutter, clutching the boat with one hand and the doctor with the other, the heavy, dark waves crashing against him and dragging him under.

Against her, Ryan's body tightened. He lowered her to the ground. “Stay here,” he said. Then he kicked off his boots and shed his shirt and trousers so that he was down to his underclothes.

He cupped his hands and called to the boys, “Keep bailing! I'm coming!”

Caroline cried out but could barely get out a wheeze. She struggled to her feet. She had to go out there too. She wouldn't sit back and let her brothers and Ryan drown before her eyes. She'd had to watch her father die, and she wouldn't do that again.

Ryan sprinted into the water. Once he was in up to his waist, he dove and began to swim against the waves toward the boys.

Caroline stumbled to the shore after him. She bent to unlace her boots, but her fingers twisted in the strings. She yanked at them harder and only made a knot. A frustrated cry slipped from her lips.

Tears streamed down Caroline's cheeks as she called to the boys over and over to hang on, to scoop faster. But soon the lake water began to pour into the boat faster than they could bail it out. The boat dipped lower until the edge disappeared underwater altogether, and fear filled the boys' faces.

The panic in Caroline's chest was paralyzing. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't even speak. Once again she could only watch in horror, her soul screaming but her voice silent.

Ryan shouted at them as he approached, and once they saw him swimming steadily toward them, they fixed their attention upon him and began to follow his instructions. They climbed out of the sinking vessel and started to swim toward Ryan. Fortunately, Father had made sure his children learned how to swim at an early age. Even so, Caroline knew the big lake was no match for two young boys. A current or a strong wave could pull under even the strongest of swimmers.

She released another wheeze when the boys finally made it
to Ryan. They were gasping and spitting out water, but they'd managed to stay afloat. They clung to Ryan as though he were a lifeline.