Jonas stared at him. "I'm not leaving, Ryan."
"You have to. You've been ordered to evacuate."
"I'll stay at my own risk."
"Why?" Ryan sighed. "What's the point?"
"The point is this is my home. I won't leave it to the mercy of the river."
"What are you going to do when the river comes through the walls and up the stairs?"
"She won't get that high."
"She is not your friend or your lover, she's an enemy. She's a body of water intent on destruction."
"You don't understand her like I do," Jonas said. "I don't expect you ever will. Go on, Ryan. Go back to your jet-setting life. I'll be fine here."
Ryan paced around the room, not knowing what to do. He felt helpless. He couldn't physically remove his father from the house, but he couldn't leave him there either.
"Why are you so stubborn?"
"Why do you care? A week ago I could have been dead for all you knew."
"A week ago I was still filled with anger. But coming back here changed all that."
"What changed?" Jonas demanded. "I'm still the same. You're still the same, and your mother is still gone. Just like when you left."
"When I left I didn't know how much I was going to miss having a family, a home. I've never hung one picture on my apartment walls and I don't own any furniture. I never wanted to be tied to a house the way you are." Ryan looked at his father long and hard, trying to see past the surface. What he saw made him realize something else. "It's not the house, is it? It's her. She's here. The little you have left of her is here."
Jonas turned away. "You're a fool."
Ryan put a hand on his father's shoulder and forced him to turn around. "Am I? You loved her, didn't you?"
"Of course I loved her," Jonas said loudly. "I worshiped her. But she left, dammit, she left."
"You sent her away. I saw the letter, remember?"
Jonas's eyes filled with sorrow. "I talked to her after I got the letter. I begged her to come back. I told her I would get you and Andrew, and we would find somewhere to stay. But she had to make her choice. And she made it. She left."
Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing. That wasn't the way the story went. "You never told me this before."
"You weren't ready to listen then. You hated me. I couldn't have changed your mind."
Maybe not then, Ryan silently admitted. He had been too young, too full of his own ideas, too stunned by the letter to hear the other side of the story. And later... later he had been gone.
"None of that matters anymore," Ryan said. "Why she left, where she went, we'll probably never know. What's important is now. Maybe we can be a family again."
Jonas's hand shook as he brushed his hair away from his eyes. "You and Andrew need to find your own families."
"That would make it easy for you," Ryan said angrily. "Then you wouldn't have to change. You wouldn't have to open your heart up again. You wouldn't have to say the words that you've never been able to say." Ryan's voice caught. "I was a stupid little kid when Mom left. I was nine years old. I missed her so much. I cried in my pillow every night for a year. Where were you, Jonas? Why the hell couldn't you be there for me? You wanted me with you. You wouldn't let her take me, so where were you when I needed you?"
"I -- I didn't know how."
"They're just words, Jonas. You can't say them even now, can you?" Ryan answered his own question. "No, you can't. God, why am I beating my head against a wall?" Ryan headed to the door. "You want to stay here, fine. Do what you want."
"I'm leaving," Billy announced, stopping dead in his tracks a good twenty feet from the raging river. "We can't get any closer. It's too dangerous."
The wind blew Angel's hair across her face, blinding her view. In that moment of blindness, she heard a voice call to her, pleading with her not to leave.
She brushed the hair out of her face and stared at the river. She couldn't see the lady, but she could feel her presence, her need. "I have to get closer," Angel said.
"Don't be stupid, Angel. There's no ghost and there's no necklace. It's just a story."
"She could be your grandmother." Why didn't Billy understand how important it was to find out the truth?
"My grandmother left town years ago. My dad said she hated this place. There's no way she would still be here."
"Maybe she got trapped. Everyone thought she had gone, so no one went to look for her."
Billy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"It could have happened like that."
"It didn't."
"You don't want to see her, do you? You're afraid."
"I am not."
"Well, I'm getting closer." She walked on ahead, ignoring his calls to come back. She felt something drawing her in, something so strong she couldn't walk away, at least not without finding out what it was.
Angel walked along the bank, calling out for the lady. She couldn't tell where Tucker's Bridge was now that the river was so high, but she could see the Hunter house just downriver and knew she couldn't be too far away.
Finally she stopped, breathless from scrambling through the bushes and a little nervous from the roar of the wind and the sound of branches snapping off the trees and crashing into the water, as noisy as a hundred kids in a swimming pool.
"Angel."
She whipped around and saw the lady floating above the water, her yellow and red scarf protecting her hair from the rain.
"I was afraid you stopped believing in me," the lady said.
"I didn't know where you were."
"Here, where I've always been. Time is running out. I must find my necklace by tomorrow. I believe it is caught in the branches of the tree that Jonas's father planted when he was born. When the water gets high enough, it will shake everything loose. You must get it for me."
"Are you -- " Angel suddenly couldn't ask the question. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
"It doesn't matter who I am. What matters is that they don't end up like me. Did you warn them, Angel? Did you tell them the river will flood by tomorrow?"
"I did, but I don't think they believe me."
"And Jonas, did you tell Jonas?"
"He won't listen to me."
"You must make him listen."
"How?" Angel asked in bewilderment.
"Tell him a story," the lady urged. "A story about me. Tell him about my hair and this scarf and my ring." She held out her hand and showed Angel a brilliant blue sapphire on the third finger of her left hand. "You must convince him. I know you can do it. Because you have the words and the imagination to make him believe. Tell Jonas to leave the house before it is too late. Tell him I miss him."
As Angel blinked, the lady disappeared. But she could still see her face, her scarf, her ring.
The sound of crashing branches behind her made Angel jump. She whirled around again, this time coming face-to-face with Jonas. He was walking along the bank with his walking stick. When he saw her, he stopped abruptly.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His roaring voice was as loud as the river.
"I -- I -- " Angel glanced back over her shoulder, wondering why the ghost couldn't just appear now and talk to Jonas herself.
"Get on home now," Jonas commanded.
"Okay. But -- " Angel licked her lips. "I'm supposed to tell you that the river is going to flood tomorrow and that you have to leave."
"Who sent you here? Your mother? One of those fool sons of mine?"
"The ghost lady."
His eyes bored a hole right through her. "I don't believe in ghosts."
"She said you would say that. She said to tell you that she still has her ring, the blue sapphire."
Jonas's hand shook slightly as he gripped his walking stick. "You don't know when to quit, do you, girl?"
"It's true, and she said to tell you about the scarf, the one with the yellow and red flowers." Angel tried to think of a story to go with it, but for once her mind was blank.
Jonas brushed past her, storming away so fast, Angel could do nothing more than call after him, "She said to tell you she misses you."
"Have you seen Angel?" Kara asked Josephine as she walked into the shelter that evening with two suitcases and a Hefty bag filled with Angel's stuffed animals. "I told her to stay right here until I got back."
Josephine finished wrapping a Band-Aid around the finger of a seven-year-old. "There you go, sweetie."
"I got an owie," the little girl said to Kara.
Kara looked at the Minnie Mouse Band-Aid with a somber expression. "I can see that. What happened?"
"Bobbie Webster bit me."
Kara hid a smile. "Why would he do that?"
"Cuz I was trying to count his teeth." The little girl scampered off to find her mother.
Kara's smile faded as she glanced around the rec center. It had been the sight of their beautiful banquet and the dazzling talent show. Now it was a shelter for the homeless. Cots had been set up barely a foot apart. Already there were children and adults huddled around radios listening for the latest updates on the weather.
"I hope that's the worst of it," Josephine said as she put away her first-aid kit.
"Why don't you go home and rest, Aunt Josephine. I'll look after things here."
"Here? And the Gatehouse? And everywhere else?
You're not a superwoman, Kara. You can't do everything."
"I'm not trying to do everything."
"Yes, you are. You have to realize that if the river floods and you lose everything, you won't be a failure."
"I know that," Kara said awkwardly, not comfortable meeting Josephine's eye.
"Do you? I don't think so. You have to be satisfied with your best, even if it's not good enough. Now, I want you and Angel to stay with me tonight, and the puppies, too. They've already made themselves at home on Ike's easy chair."
"I'll bet. Thank you, Aunt Josephine. Now I'm going back to the Gatehouse to finish packing up some things. If it gets too late, I might just stay there, so don't worry, okay?"
Josephine frowned. "Kara, it isn't safe."
"I'll be fine until tomorrow. I need more time to get things together. Even Dirk said he was just warning me to get ready, not giving an official order to evacuate."
"Kara, remember the tea leaves, the danger."
"Aunt Josephine, please. I can't argue about this. You know what that house means to me. I want to protect what I have."
"They're just things, Kara."
"Some things mean a lot."
"The Gatehouse has been flooded before, twice in my lifetime. It will happen again. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but sometime. You have to accept that."
"I don't know if I can."
"Kara, it's not the house that makes you happy. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Kara was saved from answering as Angel and Billy walked into the shelter holding a bedraggled kitty.
"Look what we found, Mom, Loretta's cat." Angel stroked the shivering wet cat with her hand. "Do you have any towels?"
Josephine handed her a small dish towel. "Here you go-"
"Thanks."
"I'm glad you rescued Loretta's cat, but I thought I told you to stay here," Kara said.
"Uh -- well," Angel looked guilty. "I had to -- "
Kara held up her hand wearily. "Save it for tonight, Angel, when I need a bedtime story."
Angel shrugged. "Okay."
"Have you seen my dad?" Billy asked.
"Did you try the paper?"
"Only Uncle Ryan was there," Billy said. "I couldn't believe he was working on Grandpa's newspaper."
"I find it hard to believe, too. But your grandfather certainly can't do everything himself. It's about time he realized that."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Josephine said.
Kara ignored her aunt's pointed interruption, waving to Andrew as he walked into the shelter looking tired and worried.
Billy ran into his dad's arms.
"Are you okay?" Andrew asked. "I got a call from Mrs. Murray saying she was leaving town."
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
Billy nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."
"Good, because I need to find Loretta."
"Is something wrong?" Kara asked.
"Loretta left the bar a couple of hours ago and hasn't come back. The roads to her house are six inches deep. I thought she might have come here." Andrew suddenly noticed the cat in Angel's arms. "Hey, that's Loretta's cat," he said with alarm. "Where did you find her?"
"Down by the river," Angel replied.
"I told you not to go near the river," Kara said.
"We couldn't just let her drown. We were careful."
"Oh, Angel, what am I going to do with you?"
"Dirk said he evacuated Loretta's street early this morning," Andrew interrupted. "I know she wouldn't have left her cat behind. Where could she be?"
"I'm sure she's around," Josephine said. "Loretta knows how to take care of herself."
"She's nine months pregnant," Andrew said. "And she's nowhere near as tough as she talks."
Kara heard the worry in his voice, the tenderness; and it suddenly became clear to her that Andrew cared about Loretta. How could she have been so blind?
"I don't know you at all, do I?" she said softly, drawing Andrew's attention back to her. Josephine discreetly led the kids away from their conversation.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You're in love with Loretta."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not." Kara's conviction grew stronger with his reaction. "I should have seen it before. She's the one who got you to admit that Ryan didn't kill Becky Lee. She's the one who got you to climb a tree and rescue her cat."
"I was just walking by. It was no big deal."
"And it was Loretta's lunch you bought at the picni
c."
"I couldn't afford your lunch."
Kara pulled him over to one side, away from the front door, away from the people coming into the shelter. "Why didn't we ever make love, Andrew?"
"What?" he said with a shocked sputter.
"How could we have thought of marrying each other without being together in the most intimate way?"
"I -- I don't know, Kara. I thought you wanted to wait. I thought you wanted to build a friendship first. It didn't seem right with the kids and all to do anything else."
"It didn't seem right, because neither one of us wanted it badly enough."
Andrew pulled at the collar of his shirt as if it were suddenly too tight. "I don't want to talk about this."
"I know you don't. You never want to talk to me about anything, about your father or Ryan or Becky Lee. But you talk to Loretta, don't you?"
"She already knows everything."
"Yeah, I guess she does."
Andrew finally relented. "It's different with Loretta. I don't have to pretend. She knows all my faults. She has seen most of my embarrassing moments. I can be myself with her."
"I never asked you to be more than that."
"You never asked, but you expected it, because you have high expectations. You don't need me, Kara. You're so damn strong. The truth is you scare the hell out of me."
"I do?" Kara asked in amazement.
"Yes, you do. And so does Angel. You both need someone who isn't afraid of life, someone who wants to sit on the roof with you and count the stars, someone who wants to listen to Angel's wild stories and chase puppies around the house every night. But most of all you need someone as strong as you are. I'm not that man. We both know that."
She thought about what he had said and knew it was the truth. "I guess we do."
"I'm sorry about the things I said the other day, about your father. I know you're not him, but when -- "
"When you look at me, you see him," she finished.
"Actually when I look at you I see Ryan. I see you two dancing at the banquet, laughing together, smiling at the same jokes. I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him, and I know that you never looked at me that way. I want that look, Kara. This time around, I want that look to be only for me." Andrew paused. "I've got to go. I need to find Loretta and make sure she's okay."
Kara nodded. "Go."
Andrew called to his son. "Billy, do you want to stay here?"
"No, I want to come with you. Please, Dad. We're a team. You said so, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Besides, you might need my help."
Andrew smiled at that. "No doubt." He gave Kara one last look. "Maybe Ryan will stay."
She shook her head, fighting back a rush of emotion. "I don't think so. You know better than anyone that Ryan can't stay in this town."
"Ryan never had a reason to stay before."
"He could have stayed for Becky Lee."
"Ryan didn't love Becky Lee," Andrew said simply.
"He doesn't love me either."
"You could have fooled me."
Kara worked until late that night, packing up the downstairs of the Gatehouse. As she wrapped her belongings in tissue paper and placed each one lovingly in a box, she felt as if she were saying good-bye to her friends. Although she could take her most valuable things to Josephine's house, she couldn't take everything, not the grandfather clock in the hall or the piano or the wallpaper that she had lovingly placed on the walls.
The big house was too quiet tonight. Gone were the sounds of the guests, the laughter, the chatter, her daughter's impatient footsteps on the stairs, Aunt Josephine's raucous laugh, and Ryan's saxophone music. Tonight she was completely alone.
Angel was tucked in at Josephine's house, and the guests had found other accommodations. Even Ryan was gone; she didn't know where. Some of his things were still in his room, so she knew he hadn't left town yet, but where he had holed up for the night, she had no idea.
Finally, exhausted, she crept into bed and studied the wallpaper pattern going around her walls as she tried to hypnotize herself into a state of unconsciousness.
Sometime in the night the wind got stronger, and the rain pounded down on the roof like a relentless drummer. Kara pulled the quilt over her head, trying to block out the storm as she had blocked out so many bad things.
A loud thunderous roar followed by the sound of shattering glass sent her upright in bed. A burst of wind and rain ruffled her hair and wet her cheeks as the sharp edges of splintered glass hit the arms she instinctively raised to cover her face. When she tried to move, she couldn't. Something pinned her down, something scratchy and dark. Horror filled her mind as she wrestled with her unknown assailant.
"Kara? Kara?" The words came from the doorway. A shaft of light entered her room, spilling in from the hall. Ryan stared at her in shock. "My God."
"Get it off me," she cried out. "Get it off of me."
Ryan ran to the bed and pulled off a heavy branch from the oak tree that had fallen through her window. When she was finally free, he drew her trembling body into his arms and held her close. "It's all right. I've got you. You're safe."
Her breath came in rapid gasps, too quick to form words. All she could do was stare over his shoulder at the broken window, at the tree that had clawed her like the bony arm of a skeleton. She shuddered again. The shadows in the room raised monsters in her mind.
Kara suddenly felt something dripping down her cheek and her arm. In a daze she looked at her white nightgown. There were splatters of red everywhere.
"Am I bleeding?" she asked bemusedly.
Ryan gave her a critical glance. "You have some cuts on your face from the glass," he said. "Let's get you out of here." He swept her up in his arms before she could think about walking and took her down the hall to his room.
He laid her on the bed with gentle hands, then got a towel out of the bathroom and tenderly wiped the blood off her face. His expression was so solemn it scared her. "Is it that bad?" she whispered.
"No, but it could have been. When I think how close you came to being wiped out by that tree ..." His voice thickened with emotion, then turned angry. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you went to Josephine's house."
"I had a few more things to pack."
His hand fell to his side as he stared at her. She wished she could take her words back, wipe the expression of disappointment off his face. But she didn't know what she had done wrong.
"You can't leave, can you?" Ryan asked.
"This is my home."
"It's a house, Kara. You're just like Jonas. You'll risk everything for a stupid house, including your life."
"I'm not in danger," Kara said, realizing how foolish her words sounded in light of the fact that she was dripping blood on his bed.
"You're in danger of losing yourself."
"But this house is a part of me."
"You're making it more important than it is," he argued. "My father broke up his family because of a goddamn house, and you would do the same thing, wouldn't you?"
"No," she cried out.
"Yes," he said just as loudly, just as passionately.
The air between them sizzled with anger and frustration then passion as the dark night and their heightened emotions pushed reason away. Ryan reached for her with ruthless arms, kissing her again and again and again until they couldn't breathe. Then he set her away with just as much determination.
"No, I won't come in second to a house, not again." Ryan stood up. "I won't compete with a pile of lumber and a bunch of things."
He said the word so scornfully, Kara felt as if he had cut her with a knife. "Where are you going? It's the middle of the night."
"What do you care? Do you care that your daughter cried herself to sleep tonight because she didn't know when you were coming home?"
Kara stared at him in shock. "Angel? How do you -- "
"Josephine told me. She called me at the paper. She sent me over here. Your daughter needs you, but where are you? You're saving your precious house. Just like Jonas. He left me alone in the flood so he could save the house."
Kara saw the terrible memories wash over Ryan's face. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't the same thing, that Angel wasn't in danger, but she knew that Ryan couldn't hear her. He was caught up in the past. He was reliving his own terror, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.