Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Ryan cleared his throat. "We were so rushed earlier, I didn't have a chance to thank Mildred for all her help with Harbor View." The owner had been busy with a customer earlier in the week when he'd returned the floral arrangements she'd lent him. "If you don't mind waiting just a minute, I'll walk you back to the Cottage." He'd parked his pickup truck in the lot at the opposite end of the block, behind the White Dove Cafe, but he couldn't pass up the chance to spend a little while longer with Evelyn.

"I'd like that." Tiny lines around Evelyn's eyes deepened when she smiled. "I wanted to pick up some flowers for Alicia and Jenny, anyway. It's the least I can do to repay them. They've carried the load at the Cottage this week. "

"Okay, then." Suddenly feeling as awkward as a teenager, he held the door for her.

Inside, the normally quiet shop buzzed with activity. He couldn't be sure, but he thought more customers than usual discussed floral arrangements with Mildred's helpers. He stopped to let the green fragrance of potted plants and cut flowers wash over him while he searched the crowded aisles for the shop's owner. In answer to his question, a passing clerk told him she'd last seen Mildred in the workroom. Promising Evelyn he wouldn't be long, he left her studying ready-made arrangements in the store's two floor-to-ceiling coolers.

Sure enough, he found Mildred sorting through stacks of new orders and scribbling names and dates on a large whiteboard mounted on the workroom's wall. He waited until she finished the one she was working on before he cleared his throat. "Mildred?"

Wrinkles wreathed the skin around the older woman's smile. "I was hoping you'd stop by. This being your first year participating in Wedding-in-a-Week, I wanted to make sure you saw what it does for my business." She fanned the stack of papers. "All these new orders? They're from today." A wave of her hand indicated the customers quietly speaking with her associates throughout the store. "They'll more than cover the Wedding-in-a-Week entry fees."

His chest seized. There were entry fees? The realization hit him. Of course there were. Running an event like Wedding-in-a-Week cost money. Just like renting a booth at the annual craft fair, vendors paid their share.

Who had paid his? When Alicia had first told him they'd chosen Harbor View to participate, he'd ultimately assumed, for whatever reason, she'd filled out an application in his name and had let it go at that. But she wouldn't have covered his entrance fee. He didn't know anyone who would.

Oblivious to his turmoil, Mildred continued her spiel. "This event is one of the most expensive ones we enter. Each year, I tell myself not to bother, but the numbers don't lie. I more than make it up in new business." Her gaze narrowed in on him. "You're lucky your dad entered Harbor View this year. It'll be good for your business, no matter which venue Brianna and Daniel choose."

My dad ? He braced one arm on the worktable and thanked goodness for its sturdy support. At the moment, it was about the only thing that kept him upright. He resisted an urge to shake his head. He couldn't have heard right. His dad didn't approve of his work as a restoration specialist. He certainly hadn't liked his youngest son's efforts to turn Farley's old Boat Works into a wedding venue. Every time the topic came up—and it had at every Sunday dinner for the past year—his father had insisted the project was merely a distraction, one that prevented Ryan from taking his rightful place with Court Builders. That the senior Court would part with so much as a single thin dime to support his dream was, um, preposterous.

And yet …

He aimed an appraising glance at the florist who'd been doing business in Heart's Landing since before he was born. As one of the town's movers and shakers, Mildred knew everything that happened within the town limits. Usually within minutes. If she said his dad had covered his entry fee, he had to believe her. She had no reason to lie. Still, he had to be sure.

He inhaled so deeply, his chest expanded. On the exhale, he asked, "Mildred. You're sure my dad filled out an application for me? Not Alicia?"

"Sure as I'm standing here." She stared up at him, amazement in her eyes. "You didn't know? "

"Um, no. I didn't. I guess …" He paused, unable to think of what to say next. "I guess he and I are overdue for a chat."

Mildred's face blanched, and her voice trembled. "I hope I haven't spoken out of turn."

Reassuring the older woman was easy. He ran one finger across his lips. "It's our secret. The truth was bound to come out sooner or later, but I definitely appreciate hearing it from you." He checked the clock on the back wall and patted Mildred's age-spotted hand. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm going to run. If I leave now, I should be able to catch Dad at the office before he closes up for the night." By this time of day, his brothers had probably gone home to their wives and families. His father followed a different philosophy. He believed the boss ought to be the first on the job in the morning, the last to leave at night. Which meant, if Ryan didn't dilly-dally, he could talk with his dad without anyone overhearing.

He spotted Evelyn in the checkout line, patiently waiting to purchase two bunches of flowers in elegant vases. His heart melted at the sight of her standing there. He'd been wrong to consider her a diva. People with egos the size of Texas didn't stand in line to buy thoughtful gifts for friends. Regret washed through him. He wished he could stay and walk her home, tell her how wrong he'd been, but he couldn't. He couldn't let the sun go down without clearing the air with his dad. He slipped in beside Evelyn and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Something's come up. I need to go. Do you mind getting back to the Captain's Cottage on your own?"

Confusion flashed momentarily in Evelyn's green eyes. Her jaw tightened, but she answered with a bright, "Sure! I'll call for a car."

He knew he'd disappointed her. With anyone else he'd have taken care of business and tried to make it up to them later. His relationship with Evelyn was so new, so fragile, though, that he couldn't risk waiting. He bent lower, aiming his voice for her ears alone, and whispered, "I just found out my dad was the one who signed me up for the Wedding-in-a-Week competition. I, um, I think I need to talk to him about it."

He'd been right to tell her the truth, he decided, when understanding turned Evelyn's eyes a shade of green he'd never seen before. "Didn't you say things were tense between you?" she asked.

"They are." He nodded. Just once. "That's why it's important that I see him. I need to know why he did it. "

"You're headed there now?" She glanced toward the door. "Do you want company?"

Her support flooded him with warmth, but this was something he needed to do on his own. "Much as I appreciate the offer, no." A move like that deserved his thanks, though, so he gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze. "Thanks for understanding. See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Definitely." She nodded. "Favors Galore at ten. Then we have a tasting at Food Fit For A Queen right after." A half beat passed before she added, "Call me if you want to talk or anything."

"Yeah. Sounds good." He wavered on the edge of reconsidering her offer and asking her to come with him. He swallowed. Things were complicated enough between him and his dad without adding another person into the mix. Especially when his relationship with Evelyn was in its infancy. His dad might jump to the conclusion that things were far more serious between him and the feisty redhead. As for his mom, well, she'd made no secret of her wish to see him settled down like his brothers. She'd buy out the grocery store's entire stock of rice the next time she went shopping if he so much as mentioned he had a date.

Resisting the urge to turn back to Evelyn, Ryan forced his feet to take him to the door. He couldn't help but look over his shoulder at her before it closed. She still stood where he'd left her, her eyes locked on him. The image released a flood of warm feelings that tempted him to stay. Wishing he could, he jammed his hands in his pockets and headed for his dad's office.

Evelyn sat on the couch in her third-floor apartment in the Captain's Cottage, her legs curled up on the thick cushions. She turned the page of a romance novel that hadn't managed to capture her attention. Oh, the author had done a good job of telling a juicy story. That wasn't the problem. The problem was her mind—it kept drifting off the page to Ryan's face at Forget Me Knot earlier. From the little he'd said, she knew his father hadn't exactly supported his youngest son's ambitions. So it didn't make any sense at all for Mr. Court to enter Harbor View in the Wedding-in-a-Week festivities.

Was Ryan's father trying to heal the rift between him and his son? She hoped so. The day they'd had coffee in the Cottage's dining room, tension had gathered in Ryan's eyes at a mere reference to his family. She'd seen hurt reflected in the firm set of his jaw the few times he'd mentioned his mom and dad since then. She shook her head and thanked her lucky stars for the good relationship she had with her own parents. Even though they'd retired to Florida, she and her mom talked most every day. She spoke with her dad nearly as often. She wanted Ryan to have that same kind of relationship with his folks.

She'd no sooner had that thought than her cell phone buzzed. She hit the Accept Call button after glancing at the screen. "Hey, Ryan." She closed the book and set it aside. "What's up?"

"Can we talk?"

Her stomach plummeted at the strain in his voice. The silence that followed tugged at her heart. "Sure. Want me to meet you at Harbor View?"

"Actually, I'm right outside. I was going to come in, but it looks like there's a wedding on the veranda. Meet me on the bike path? We'll go for a walk?"

This time of night, they'd have the trail practically to themselves. It made a good place for a quiet talk. "Sounds great. I'll meet you around back in five minutes."

In thirty seconds, she'd grabbed a sweatshirt, captured her hair in a scrunchie, and slipped her feet into comfortable walking shoes. With time to spare, she trotted down the rear stairs to the first level of the house. She spotted Ryan right away, and her heart gave the little shimmy she'd grown accustomed to feeling whenever his broad shoulders came into view. A pair of casual jeans emphasized his long, muscular legs and made her doubly glad she'd changed out of business attire and into her own comfy jeans and a T-shirt. Tying the pullover around her waist, she closed the gap between them.

A broad, winding path led from the back of the Captain's Cottage to the bike path that stretched northward along the rocky coast past Heart's Cove and beyond. They set out, her own long strides easily matching his. At first, Ryan didn't say anything, and they walked with only the roar of the ocean waves crashing on the rocks below and the first stars of the night to keep them company. A few lights twinkled from ships on the horizon, where low clouds clustered.

"Thanks for understanding about this afternoon." Ryan broke the silence as the path curved past a rugged promontory known as Peter's Lookout. "I hated to change our plans. I wanted to spend some time with you. You know, without Brianna or Daniel or Curtis looking over our shoulders. "

Her heart skipped a beat. His admission raised a prickle of goose bumps along her arms. Much as she wanted to explore that feeling, she set the thought aside. "No problem, honest," she hurried to assure him. "You had to clear the air with your dad. How'd it go?" She didn't want to pry, but that was why he'd asked her out here, wasn't it?

"Not exactly like I expected." Ryan kicked a pebble and sent it skittering. "You know I've never considered myself much of a builder. A fixer, yeah. A finisher, sure. But creating something from the ground up—not so much. My dad, my brothers, they're the builders."

For a kid whose family was in the construction business, that had to sting. But Ryan was good with his hands, and she felt she had to point that out to him. "You've said that before. I didn't understand it then any more than I do now. You're really talented." He'd rebuilt their old wooden fort practically from scratch, and it had weathered several fierce Nor'easters since then. Thanks to the work he'd done at the Captain's Cottage, her family home looked better now than it ever had. To say nothing of how he'd taken the dilapidated Boat Works and turned it into a stunning wedding venue.

"I'm not half as good as my brothers. When we were kids, they made my efforts look sad by comparison."

"Um, they're older than you, aren't they?" She couldn't explain why she felt the need to defend him, even from himself, but she did.

"Tom was eight when Mom had me. Bruce was six." He canted his head to look down at her. "I see where you're going with this, and you're right. It does explain a lot. I don't know why I never saw it before tonight, but there you have it."

"Have what?" She squinted up at him. He hadn't explained anything.

"Yeah. I skipped a few parts, didn't I?"

"Yep." When Ryan laughed to himself, the sound triggered another round of goose bumps. "Hold up a sec," she said and stopped to untie the sweatshirt from around her waist. She tugged it over her head. "Tell me everything. This time, don't skimp on the details."

"You're sure? It might take a while."

"Take your time. We've got all night." She couldn't think of a single place she'd rather be.

Against the darkening sky, she saw him shrug. "Okay, but remember, you asked for it." He seemed to settle into himself as they resumed their walk. "It all started one Christmas when Santa brought birdhouse kits for the three of us. Dad made a big deal of our presents. He promised we'd all work on them together. I was five at the time, and I remember being so excited, 'cause I rarely got to do anything with my brothers." He hesitated. "Well, that's not right. We sat at church together on Sundays. Ate dinner as a family most nights. But Tom and Bruce hung out with their own friends. They played sports and went to school, things I was too young to do."

When she felt Ryan's eyes on her, she nodded. "I know how that feels. You and Jason went off together and left me alone a lot, too."

Sympathy shadowed Ryan's eyes. "I never thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess we did. I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge," she quipped. Spending time on her own had encouraged her to become more independent. In the long run, that had been a good thing. "Go on."

"O—kay." Ryan's gaze flickered. "About the birdhouses. This one Saturday morning, Dad set up a worktable in the basement, and we all got started. Of course, Tom and Bruce, they finished theirs by lunch and ran off to go ice skating, while I still had a long way to go. I could've given up. I wanted to. But I stuck with it." He showed her that sheepish grin she was so fond of. "My dad called me a ‘stubborn little cuss.' Mom had just called us all to dinner by the time I finished." His smile faded. "My brothers' birdhouses were all sharp angles and straight sides. Mine just kind of … drooped. It had this sloped porch. The walls were crooked," he said, demonstrating with his hands. "There was a big gap along the roof seam. I was so disappointed that, if Dad hadn't been watching, I would've smashed it to smithereens."

"Awww. I wish I could've seen it. I bet it was precious." She imagined Ryan as a little tyke, his head bent over the project. She bet he'd concentrated so hard he'd bit the tip of his tongue between his front teeth. She'd caught him doing exactly that a couple of times this week when he hadn't thought anyone was watching.

"Oh, it's still around. That was the worst part. Dad took all three birdhouses to his office. He made a special shelf for them over his desk. They're still there." Hair fell onto his forehead when he shook his head. He brushed it back with a sweep of one hand. "Gosh, did Tom and Bruce tease me about that or what. They still do. ‘He can't drive a straight nail to save his life.' ‘What's that hole in the roof supposed to be—a skylight?'"

She'd never had a brother or a sister, but plenty of flower girls and ring bearers had trooped through the Captain's Cottage. While each and every one of them could be so sweet it made her teeth ache, she'd seen a few get into it with a younger sibling. Kids could be brutal. The lucky ones had parents who looked out for them. She sought Ryan's eyes in the fading light. "What'd your dad say?"

"Dad's always been a man of few words. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Well, you tried, son. That's the important thing. You tried.' I might've only been five, but on some level, I knew I'd let him down. I've been a disappointment to him ever since." He inhaled like he wanted to suck all the oxygen out of the air. "Or I thought I was. Until tonight."

"What happened?" She kept the question simple, hoping she wouldn't disrupt his thoughts.

Ryan's footsteps stalled. She slowed, matching his stride. Up ahead, a chest-high rock wall prevented unwary cyclists from missing a sharp curve and plunging over the side and down the cliff. Ryan walked to the edge. He waited until he'd braced his elbows atop the rocks before he continued. "I told Dad I heard he'd paid for my Wedding-in-a-Week entry and asked him why he'd do such a thing, considering I'd never lived up to his expectations. He got the strangest expression on his face. Like he didn't have the faintest idea what I was talking about. I told him he couldn't deny it. I knew how he felt. I pointed to the birdhouses on the shelf behind his desk and said I knew mine was a constant reminder that I'd never be the builder he and my brothers were."

"Oh, Ryan." Her heart ached for him. She was only a little surprised by how much.

"He put his hand on my shoulder like he had all those years ago and said that wasn't why he'd kept the birdhouses." Ryan's voice tightened. "He said he'd kept them as a daily reminder of how proud he was of all three of his sons."

Tears stung her eyes. She longed to put her arms around him. "I guess you didn't expect that," she managed.

Ryan shook his head. "Not hardly. Could've blown me away like so much sawdust when he said it."

When Ryan grew quiet, she nudged him. "And then?" She wasn't about to let him stop now. There had to be more to the story.

"Dad pulled all three birdhouses down and sat them on this huge antique desk he keeps in his office. He picked up Tom's and said it was the best of the lot, but he'd expected it to be, seeing as Tom was the oldest. Then he pointed out the deck and window boxes that none of the others had. He said Tom had always been the one to go above and beyond. Today, Dad counts on him to improve every house they build, to look for add-ons that make life better for their customers." Ryan lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "He's right, too. Tom's the best salesman in the family. He has a knack for giving clients more than what they asked for but always what they wanted. He and Bruce go toe to toe over that sometimes."

"Why's that?" She thought she might have some idea.

"When Bruce built his birdhouse, he followed the directions to the letter. Not one shingle out of place. The door precisely where it was supposed to be. Dad said as soon as he'd seen it, he'd known the day would come when he could hand Bruce a set of plans and six months later, he'd deliver the exact house the customer had ordered, right down to the number of shelves in the linen closet."

Her heart pounded. "And yours? What did he say about yours?"

Ryan barked a laugh. "He plunked that misshapen, lopsided thing on the table and said he'd always known I'd finish whatever I started. No matter how difficult it was." His voice grew tight again. "He told me that's how he knew I'd do whatever I set out to do. It was how he knew I'd finish the Boat Works in time for Wedding-in-a-Week. He was so sure of it, he filled out the entry form in my name and paid the fee."

"Oh, wow," she whispered. Getting into the contest involved a sizable chunk of change.

"Yeah, wow. This changes everything. It's going to take some time to overcome perceptions of the past. But I think my dad and I can finally have a real relationship. My brothers, too."

"Does this mean you'll go to work for Court Builders?" She held her breath. Ryan had put a lot of time and effort into building his own business. He wouldn't give that up, would he? She hated to think of him walking away from his dreams.

Ryan shook his head. "Dad and I both agree my place isn't in the family business. We'll find a way to work together. Refer clients to one another. That sort of thing. Enjoy Sunday dinners without feeling like we're on pins and needles the whole time."

He'd braced his palms on the rock wall. Tentatively, she placed her hand on one of his forearms. Beneath the sleeve of his sweatshirt, she felt his muscles tense. "I'm glad for you, Ryan. Truly. I know how much it bothered you that things weren't good between you and your folks."

"You did?" He swung toward her, his eyes scouring her face. "I never complained about it, did I?"

"You didn't have to. I knew anyway."

"Huh. Guess you know me better than I know myself." He turned to face her, his arm still braced on the wall. "That's one thing about you, Evelyn. We've known each other practically our entire lives. You'd think by now I'd know everything there was to know about you, but you constantly surprise me. There's still so much more about you I want to learn."

Her breath caught. She'd been thinking the same thing, but she'd never in a million years thought Ryan returned the feeling. "I was hoping you'd say that."

She welcomed his touch when Ryan put an arm around her and hugged her close. They stood for a while, their hips grazing as the twilight deepened. As they watched, a large ship steamed into view and began making its slow trip across the horizon.

Ryan aimed his chin at the big boat. "A cruise ship out of New York," he murmured. "I wonder where they're headed. "

"Someplace warm and sunny," she suggested, relishing the weight of his arm across her shoulders. "The Bahamas, maybe? Or Antigua?"

"Have you ever visited the Caribbean?"

"No. I've always wanted to. It's just …" She hesitated, then shrugged. Ryan had shared his innermost thoughts and fears with her tonight. She wanted to repay his trust by opening up to him, too. "Until now, it's been hard to get away from the Captain's Cottage. When Uncle Dave died and my parents retired, Jason and I suddenly found ourselves in charge. It was a lot sooner than either of us expected and, even with a lot of help from Alicia and Connie, we struggled a bit. It took us a while to settle into a new routine. It took even longer for me to figure out this isn't what I really want to do for the rest of my life."

"It's not?" Surprise showed in Ryan's features. "I thought you liked your job."

"I love the Captain's Cottage," she corrected. "And Jason's the best. We work really well together. But I don't think the role of Maiden Aunt is a good fit for me. And you have to admit, I'm not your average bookkeeper." She touched one finger to her eyes. "No horn-rimmed glasses. No pencil stuck in my hair. "

He laughed at that. "No, you're not. You're an original."

"Once Tara and Jason get back from their honeymoon, I think it might be time to move on."

Concern flashed in Ryan's eyes. "You're not … not leaving, are you? Not going back to New York?"

She gave her head a firm shake. "No. I closed that door. Like you, I've decided I want to stay in Heart's Landing. It's my home. But there has to be more to my life than numbers and inventory lists. I just don't know what it is yet."

"You'll figure it out," Ryan said. He sounded far surer of that than she felt.

"I hope so," she whispered.

"You will." His voice firmed. "You're the most capable person I know. Look how well you've done running the Cottage while Jason's been away."

"I don't know." She scuffed one foot across the cement walkway. "Alicia and Jenny have helped a lot."

"You're too modest." He eased his arm from her shoulders and stepped to the side. "Not only have you kept things going smoothly at the Cottage, you've taken on the Wedding-in-a-Week festivities. I can pretty much guarantee Brianna wouldn't be walking down the aisle on Sunday if you hadn't calmed her fears and helped her realize how much she and Daniel love each other."

"That's one thing I have enjoyed. Bookkeepers don't usually play a hands-on role in the lives of our brides. Whatever I end up doing, I'd like to do more of that."

When she stopped for a breath, Ryan's quiet, "You should. You're good at it," warmed her heart and encouraged her to go on.

"Once Jason and Tara get back, she'll take over as the official hostess of the Captain's Cottage. Which means I'm going to have plenty of time to figure out my next step."

"Is that so?" Jason leaned closer. "Maybe enough time to actually go on a real date? Like dinner and a movie?"

"Who knows? It could happen. I expect a lot will change." She paused. "Oddly enough, that thought scared me last week. Now, not so much." She had Ryan to thank for that. He'd encouraged her, prodded her, and given her the courage to start thinking of her own future. Because of him, she looked forward to this next chapter in her life more than ever.

When Ryan leaned even closer, she hoped he'd kiss her. That might be another change in a long string of them, but this was one she'd been looking forward to. She moistened her lips, her anticipation building. She sipped air. He angled his head closer to hers. But in the split second before Ryan brushed his lips against hers, his cell phone emitted an alarming chirp.

"Sorry. That's Daniel's text tone. I gave it to him for emergencies." He straightened with a grimace. In one swift move, he pulled his phone from his back pocket. His expression drooped as he glanced at the screen. "Brianna's aunt is in surgery."

"What? What happened?" When Ryan said he didn't have any more details, she pressed one hand to her forehead. A headache threatened, and her heart lurched. "We need to get to the bed-and-breakfast. There's no time to waste."