"My dad hates you," Billy said flatly. "So does Grandfather."
Another kid torn between the people he wants to love and the people he's supposed to love, Ryan thought, knowing that it had to end. "I don't hate you, Billy. And I don't hate your father or your grandfather. Not anymore. See, we had a fight, and it's been so long we've forgotten what we were fighting about. Maybe it's a good time for the fighting to stop."
"I agree," Andrew said. "Ryan is right, Billy. We don't hate each other, not anymore. Maybe we never did."
Billy flung his arms around Andrew's neck. "I don't want to leave you, Dad."
"You don't have to leave me. And I don't intend to ever let you go," Andrew said fiercely. "You're my son. I love you."
Ryan felt a rush of emotion at Andrew's words. How he had longed to hear his own father say those three words, but they had never come. To see Andrew and Billy together made him feel lonely. Of course, it was by his choice, but he was still alone, dammit.
Then Angel slid her arm around his waist, and his feeling of loneliness eased. He put an arm around her shoulder, and they watched Andrew and Billy walk up the bank together.
"I wouldn't mind if you were my father," Angel said after a moment.
"You wouldn't?"
"No, I like you. Mom likes you, too."
And he liked Kara, more than he should. "Yeah, well, your mom is all right. So are you." He ruffled her hair, knowing that he would miss this wild-eyed, fanciful child who almost made him believe in the impossible things she talked about.
"I wish you weren't leaving."
Ryan felt the lump in his throat grow bigger. "I have to go back to work." Why did that suddenly sound dismal, when he had found joy in his work for years, when he had once preferred his camera to everything else?
"Maybe you could just stay for a couple of days. Maybe until Thursday," Angel persisted.
"Why Thursday?"
"That's when the lady says the river is going to flood."
"Oh, right. Well, I definitely don't want to be here when the river floods. I'm not a big fan of rushing water."
"I'll protect you. I don't mind the water at all." Angel took his hand, and Ryan knew that she probably would try to protect him, because like her mother, Angel was loyal as hell and just as courageous.
Angel suddenly pointed toward the water. "Look, she's there."
Ryan squinted his eyes. "I don't see her."
Angel sighed. "She's gone again."
Ryan shrugged. "Easy come, easy go, huh?"
"You don't believe in her either."
"At this point I'm not sure what I believe."
Angel opened her mouth, then closed it. Ryan was struck by the sudden indecision in her face. She was itching to tell him something. Although he wanted nothing to do with another tall tale, he couldn't bring himself to cut her off. "Okay, tell me about her."
"She's looking for a locket, Ryan. It has a picture of her babies in it. I told Aunt Josephine about it, and she said your mother always wore a locket."
Ryan's lips tightened. He could handle any story except one about his mother. "What are you trying to say?"
"I think the ghost is your mother."
Ryan snorted in disbelief. "Come on, that's quite a whopper, even for you. Besides, my mother isn't dead." Or was she? The question had haunted him for a long time.
Was Isabelle dead? Is that why she had disappeared so completely? But there would have been a record of her death, and the private investigator he had hired had turned up nothing.
"I'm going to ask her," Angel said. "The next time I see her, I'll ask her if she's your mother."
Ryan felt a sudden urge to tell her no. Because deep down he did not want his mother to be dead. He didn't want her to be a ghost. Not that he believed in such things, he told himself. This was Angel talking -- Angel with the secret agent father. Why was he even thinking about this?
"Let's go home. Kara is probably worried sick about you." Ryan urged Angel up the bank ahead of him. When he got to the top, he couldn't help looking over his shoulder, but there was no one there.
Kara paced back and forth across the porch at the Gatehouse, trying to keep her imagination under control. Angel was fine. She was too smart to get caught by the river. She was just late -- again.
Ryan's car turned into the parking lot. Kara sighed with relief at the sight of her daughter with Ryan. When Angel got to the porch, Kara pulled her daughter into her arms and gave her a fierce, loving hug. "Where have you been? I was so worried about you. And Aunt Josephine is waiting to take you to dinner at the diner. You were supposed to be home an hour ago, remember?"
"I'm sorry. I was looking for Billy, Mom. He was upset. I couldn't just leave him."
"She couldn't," Ryan agreed. "Not this time."
"Why? What happened?"
Before Angel or Ryan could reply, Josephine stepped onto the porch. "There you are. Wash your hands and face, Angel; I want to get to the diner before Nellie starts telling her stories. Then we'll never get our food."
"I love Nellie's stories. They're almost as good as mine," Angel said with an impish smile as she fled into the house.
"What happened with Billy?" Kara asked again.
"Billy overheard Andrew and me talking about who his father is."
"Who his father is?" Kara echoed. "Please, I don't think I can stand another revelation today."
"Hush, Kara, I want to hear more," Josephine said.
Ryan smiled at Josephine's curiosity. "Becky Lee slept with both of us. I guess that's no surprise. Apparently there's some question as to which one of us is Billy's father."
"Becky Lee didn't say?" Kara asked.
"She told Andrew he was the father."
"Then I don't understand."
"Becky Lee didn't always tell the truth. Andrew knows that as well as I do. But. .." Ryan took in a deep breath and let it out. "But as far as I'm concerned, Andrew is Billy's father in every way that counts. He has taken care of him and loved him for twelve years."
"But if he's your child..." Kara started, not really sure what she wanted to say. Was biology more important than love and caring? No. Michael had fathered Angel, but he had never been a father to her. "You're right, Ryan. Andrew is Billy's father in all the ways that matter."
"Besides, I'd probably make a lousy dad," he said.
"No, you wouldn't," Josephine said. "You would make a wonderful father. Remember when I read your leaves the other day?"
"I remember something about being at a crossroads or a railroad crossing; I'm not sure which."
Josephine rolled her eyes. "You don't know which because you're not ready to choose your path. But one day, probably sooner than you think, you will have to choose."
"I've already picked my path."
"Some roads come to an end."
"And some go on forever."
"Only in photographs."
"That's good enough for me."
"Well, I think you did the right thing with Andrew and Billy," Kara interrupted. "How is Billy handling it?"
"He's still a little shocked. I wish it hadn't come out this way. For that matter, I wish it hadn't come out at all. But it did."
"When the river rises, the secrets of years past are washed ashore and brought to life," Josephine said quietly. "Rebirth. That's what rivers are all about. That's what life is all about."
"Do you want children, Ryan?" Kara asked curiously.
Ryan tilted his head to one side, looking more thoughtful than usual. "A week ago I would have said absolutely not, but I have to admit seeing Andrew and Billy together made me feel envious. Andrew gets another chance at having a family with his own son. I'm still left with Jonas."
"Lucky you." Kara paused. "Speaking of our parents, Andrew gave me the letter. Quite an eye-opener. How could you resist telling me about our parents' mutual lust for each other?"
Ryan cleared his throat, glancing over at Josephine for help.
"Don't look at me," Josephine said. "I didn't know a thing."
"I was going to tell you when I first came back, but I never found the right time. I wasn't sure how you would react. Actually you seem pretty calm," Ryan said.
"I wasn't at first. I felt betrayed -- again. But then the men in my life have a habit of disappointing me. I never really knew my father. I certainly don't know what happened between him and your mother, and I never will, because the letter only states what they planned to do, not what they did. Their infatuation may not have lasted past the city limits. Who knows?"
"Not me."
"I guess passion can drive people to do strange things."
Angel opened the front door, and Kara hoped her daughter hadn't heard her last comment. Angel seemed to have an affinity for the word passion.
"I'm ready," Angel said, her hair neatly combed, her face washed. "Can we get a chocolate sundae for dessert?"
"Absolutely," Josephine said with a bright smile.
"Don't stay out too late. Tomorrow is a school day," Kara said.
"I'll have her back by nine," Josephine replied. "You two have a nice time now, and please see if you can find something to talk about besides your parents. It's not their lives you're living, it's your own."
After Josephine and Angel left, Ryan sat down on the porch railing, leaning his back against one of the pillars. "Looks like it's just you and me," he said softly. "What do you want to do?"
With that look in his eyes, with that smile on his face, Kara knew there was only one thing she wanted to do -- strip every last piece of clothing off his body. Her heart pounded against her chest as she tried to think of a better answer, a safer answer.
"I have lots of things to do," she said, infusing a note of calm into her voice. "Cleaning, cooking, sewing, all those homemaker things. Besides, I thought you were leaving today."
"I can leave tomorrow -- if that's okay with you."
"The other guests checked out this afternoon, so it's just family now."
Family. The word hit him hard. Ryan suddenly realized that he wanted to be a part of this family. He wanted it so bad he could almost taste it. He wanted to live in this house that smelled like fresh baked bread and cinnamon cookies. He wanted to spend his nights making love to Kara under the big down quilt on his bed. He wanted to listen to Angel's stories and drink endless cups of tea just so he could watch Josephine spin her own tales of the future.
"Except for you, of course," Kara amended, not realizing how much the exclusion hurt him. "Oh, I almost forgot -- you have a message from someone at the San Francisco Chronicle. It's on the hall table. They said something about getting photos of the river from you."
"I'll call them tomorrow."
Ryan didn't move, and Kara didn't either. He could barely see her face in the soft, dark light. There was no moon tonight, no stars, just a spill of light coming from the house onto the porch. He held out his hands to her. He could do nothing else.
Kara hesitated. "I don't know, Ryan."
"I don't either."
After a moment Kara walked slowly into his arms, sliding her hands around his waist. He lowered his head and kissed her longingly, lovingly, making it last. She turned her body into his, her breasts pressing into his chest, her hips fitting into his, her softness, his hardness. God, had he ever wanted any woman more than this one?
He laced his fingers through the thick, silky strands of her hair, tilting her head back so he could ease his mouth along the corner of her jaw, past her earlobe, down to the sensitive area of her neck and shoulders.
Kara uttered a soft moan as she closed her eyes, a look of pure pleasure on her face. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to hear her cry out his name again. He wanted to see her tremble and shake, and this time he wanted to be with her, on top of her, underneath her, inside her.
"One night," he muttered. "Just one night."
She opened her big, beautiful blue eyes. "Yes."
He didn't think he had heard her right. "Yes?"
She smiled in the soft, sexy, innocent way that belonged solely to her. "Angel and my aunt won't be back for a few hours. Can the night start now?"
"You bet it can," he said, swinging her up into his arms.
She laughed as she flung her arms around his neck. "What on earth are you doing?"
"I'm carrying you upstairs."
"I can walk."
"You can also run away, so I'm not taking any chances."
Ryan carried her into the house, kicking the door shut with his foot. He headed for the stairs and would have made it without any problem if Kara hadn't decided to kiss his neck with her sweet, hot mouth. He dropped her to her feet at the first landing and pressed her against the wall.
"I thought we were going upstairs."
"Too far away," he muttered, taking her mouth into his. "I want you here, now."
His words excited her more than his actions, the desperation in his voice, the longing. She had never been the kind of woman to drive a man to distraction, beyond reason, beyond caring, and she had never gotten so caught up in a kiss that she was ready to strip off her clothes without asking. But when his fingers reached for her sweater, she helped him pull it over her head.
He gazed at her breasts with extreme and utter fascination, stroking her nipples until she closed her eyes and began to sway, wanting to pour herself into his hands and into his body. His mouth followed his hands. Kissing, sucking, teasing until she was a quivering mass of emotions.
She reached for his belt buckle and pulled it apart, then the snap and the zipper to his pants. She tried to push them down over his hips, but he stopped her.
"Wait, I need something," he whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom. "I wanted to be prepared in case you decided to seduce me again. Do you want to go upstairs?"
"No, I want you here, now." She took the package out of his hand and ripped open the corner, enjoying the look of surprise on his face, reveling in her sense of control and power and complete desirability. With this man she could be anyone she wanted, including herself. "Let me," she said. Kara reached down and brought him into her hands, running her fingers over the long, silky shaft. He was so hard, so big. He would feel perfect inside her.
"Hurry up," Ryan said, his voice shaky. Then he leaned over and kissed her as his hands raised her skirt, as his fingers peeled off her panties, as his knee nudged her legs apart, and his fingers pressed against her most intimate place.
He teased her with his fingers until she was clinging to him, wet with desire, anxious with need. Then he came inside her, filling every empty, lonely spot of her body and her heart. And as they moved together, as they came as one, Kara knew that she had finally found the part of her that was missing.
An hour later Kara rested her head on Ryan's chest and listened to the sound of his breathing, the pounding of his heart. They had finally made it to the bedroom. She knew Ryan wasn't asleep, but she didn't want to talk. She just wanted to enjoy the moment, to savor every part of him that was pressed against every part of her.
She had lied before when she told him she liked sex. But Ryan had turned her lie into the truth. He had made her feel like a sexy, passionate woman, forcing her to give him everything, to lose herself in him, to trust him completely. And she did.
She would never regret their actions. Even if he left her with nothing but this one memory, she would hold it close to her heart and know that at least for one moment in her life she had had it all.
"When is Angel coming back?" Ryan asked lazily, running his hand through her hair.
"Another hour or so."
"Mm-mm."
Kara propped herself up on her elbow, suddenly remembering everything that had happened earlier that day. "Did Angel talk to you, Ryan?"
His eyes flickered open. "About what?"
"It's silly really, but Angel thinks your mother is a ghost. I tried to tell her there're no such things as ghosts, but I don't think I convinced her, especially since Aunt Josephine refused to lend her support."
"Yeah, Angel told me."
Kara sent him a thoughtful look. "Do you think your mother is dead, Ryan? I mean, how could she disappear so completely, without a trace?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"I wish there was someone I could ask about all this."
"But your parents are dead, too."
"That leaves Jonas," Kara said, trying to keep her voice even and calm.
"Don't even think about talking to Jonas."
"He has to know, Ryan. He's the only one who would."
"Even if he does, he's not going to tell you anything. You're the enemy, or at least the daughter of his enemy."
"Maybe he'll tell you."
"Whatever Jonas knows is locked inside himself. I'm not sure he even has the key anymore."
"I hate having unanswered questions."
"So do I. That's why I've spent the last twelve years looking for my mother. But maybe it doesn't matter anymore. Even if we knew, what would be different?"
Kara thought about his statement. "I've made so many decisions based on something that wasn't true. I came back here because I wanted to recapture the happiness of my youth, to go back to the place where my parents were madly in love. Only now I find out they weren't madly in love, and this calm little town is looking a lot like Peyton Place, with secrets scurrying out from every dark corner like rats in the night."
"You don't have rats, do you? I can't stand the little suckers."
Kara playfully punched him on the arm. "Be serious."
"I can't be serious. And I can't keep asking questions that won't be answered or looking for a woman I'll never find. I have learned one thing though...."
"What's that?"
"That it's possible to want someone so much that nothing else and no one else matters."
He looked into her eyes when he said the words, and she swallowed hard. "I know exactly what you mean." She touched her lips to his chest.
"Kara, if you do that again, I won't be responsible for the consequences."
"Good." She ran her tongue around the circle of his nipple.
He closed his eyes. "You're killing me."