Читать книгу Oklahoma Reunion - Tina Radcliffe - Страница 11

Ryan pushed open the door to the clinic’s back room and headed to the sink.

“Hey there, Doc. What’s got you looking like an agitated barnyard rooster?”

He leveled Chris LaFarge, his vet tech, a glance. “Excuse me?”

“Come on. No use denying it. You’ve been cranky all day. Will Sullivan pull another one on you?”

Scrubbing his hands, Ryan narrowed his gaze. He couldn’t help comparing people to animals. Short and stocky with thick brown hair and a flat nose, Chris, the full-time vet tech, had always been a tenacious bulldog in Ryan’s mind.

“I was hoping your attitude might improve so we could discuss all this overtime.”

“You have a problem making money?”

“Naw, I like taking your money, Doc, but I’ve been thinking.” Chris tore off a fresh plastic bag for the trash bin.

“I’m in trouble now.” Ryan reached for a paper towel and dried his hands and forearms. He stepped back from the stainless-steel sink to stop the water from flowing.

“It’s time you hired more help around here. Since Doc Hammond retired, it’s only getting busier and busier.”

“I’m not complaining, am I?” Ryan asked.

“No, but you don’t have a life, either.” He sprayed the counters with disinfectant and wiped them down, then glanced up. “Why, I think you’d even work Sundays if Pastor Jameson hadn’t finally lassoed you into ushering at first service.”

If Ryan thought his friend was done railing on him, he was wrong. Chris just kept talking, all the while efficiently restoring the counters and supply cupboards to order.

“You’re going to have to let go of the past, Doc.”

“What?” Ryan’s head jerked up at the comment.

“I’ve heard the stories.”

“Are you kidding me? What stories?”

“Something about a broken engagement and your true love running off.”

Ryan groaned loudly. “Sounds like the lyrics to a bad country song. Where do you get this stuff?”

“Will Sullivan, I expect.”

“Sullivan again? He’s feeding you a load of cow pies.”

“You telling me none of it’s true?” Chris scratched his head.

“There might be a grain of truth buried somewhere in that malarkey but not enough to be recognizable.”

“You weren’t jilted at the altar?”

“No.”

“She didn’t run off in her graduation cap and gown?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Ryan leaned back, enjoying the fact that for once Chris was at a loss for words. It didn’t last long.

“All the same, how many times have Joanie and I tried to get you over for dinner?”

There was no point responding. They both knew that if it was merely a home-cooked meal he’d been invited to, Ryan would have probably shown up more often than not. Generally, however, what appeared to be an innocent invite to supper was actually a clever matchmaking scheme.

“And here’s the other thing, Doc.”

“The other thing?”

Chris nodded and motioned to the front room. “You’re going to have to do something about that sorry excuse out there answering phones.” He shook his head. “Trouble with you is you only see the good in folks. That’s why you haven’t noticed she spends most of her day talking to her boyfriend and polishing her nails. You need someone who can handle billing and vendors. Not just a warm body who occasionally picks up the phone.”

This time Ryan paused at Chris’s words. He frowned and remembered Kait and Jenna’s visit. Ryan liked to think he was focused. Generally, however, it was simply tunnel vision. While he loved to work with animals, and he liked people, he wasn’t real good at the business end of things at the clinic. And Doc Hammond’s sudden retirement also meant he’d taken Mrs. Hammond, their one-woman office staff, with him.

“Okay. Let me think on this a bit.”

As much as he hated to purposely hand Chris a free ride to another “I told you so,” the vet tech was right.

“While you’re at it, maybe you could start thinking about dating and settling down.”

“Whoa. Why does a conversation with you have more ups and downs than a bull straight out of the shoot? Mind telling me what dating has to do with the conversation?”

“Simple. Make some changes at the clinic and you’ll have time to court a woman. Why, I bet you don’t even have a date for Will Sullivan’s wedding.”

“I’m the best man. I thought all I had to do is show up and make a speech.”

“Are you hearing anything I’m saying?”

“I don’t remember you telling me that particular piece of information.”

A date for a wedding? Who knew? Ryan ran a hand through his hair. While Chris’s logic was skewed, Ryan had to admit it had occurred to him on odd occasions that he just might indeed be running out of time. After all, he sure didn’t want to find himself alone in his dotage, with only a mismatched menagerie of pets for company. He loved kids and wouldn’t mind a few of his own. A daughter like his niece Faith, or …

An image of a dark-haired little girl flashed through his mind.

Chances were he had already run out of time.

Kait dried her hands on a towel and leaned against the screen door looking out at the front yard. The huge sugar maple near the street was barren of leaves, the naked branches dead and the bark peeling. It would have to be cut down which meant one more problem to solve, one more thing to do and much too much to think about.

“Oh, Lord.” She closed her eyes for a moment and prayed. “Right now I ask for wisdom and guidance as I prepare to talk to Ryan and make decisions for the future. Amen.”

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was an ancient, mud-colored pickup coming round the corner. The Ford’s aged muffler vibrated loudly in the silence of the evening.

Illuminated by the glow of the street lamp, she could see every last rusted dent in the old truck. The rear bumper was gone, and the front bumper looked like it would be tempted to fall off with very little encouragement.

When the pickup stopped across the street, she realized the driver was Ryan.

Obviously he could afford a new vehicle yet he chose one with more dents than not. What did that say about him? Perhaps this was Ryan’s way of rebelling against his parents’ affluence.

He hung his head for a minute then looked up at the house before turning off the engine.

Slipping out the screen door, Kait ran a quick finger under her eyes and smoothed back her ponytail. She walked to the rail.

Ryan’s gaze swept the yard before he made his way to the front steps. His hands were shoved in the front pockets of his worn jeans as he stood, one boot on the rough cement of the sidewalk and one on the porch steps. The blue cotton shirt he wore was unbuttoned; with the sleeves rolled up, it hung loose over a navy T-shirt that stretched across a broad, muscular chest.

Kait swallowed, and averted her eyes. Ryan was always bigger than life—clearly the stuff women’s dreams were made of.

She frowned. This had to stop. There was no time for dreams in her life.

“When you first moved to Granby, I used to drive by your house on a regular basis.”

The simple statement surprised her. His face revealed nothing.

“I never saw you,” she said.

“Apparently I was better at being undetected back then.”

Kait bit her lip then murmured, “Perhaps you just need a new muffler.”

“Could be.” Undeterred, Ryan continued. “I used to park over there under the branches of that huge maple and just stare at your house for hours, trying to figure out which window was yours and hoping you’d come out.” He shook his head.

Apparently a response was not required. Ryan simply stared ahead as though thinking.

That was a good thing, as Kait didn’t know what to say. Bringing up memories was way too dangerous. She couldn’t go back. All her energy was focused on today.

She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the front yard. “The maple’s dead now.”

Ryan moved up a step, and leaned against a porch column. He glanced over at the tree. “You sure? I saw a few healthy branches.”

“Not enough to save the tree.”

“All that tree needs is a good pruning and a little TLC.”

“That’s probably more trouble than it’s worth.”

He shrugged. “Your call, I guess.”

Silence stretched. Their gazes met. His glance moved oh so leisurely from her eyes to her lips. Kait couldn’t look away.

She licked her lips and willed herself to breathe.

Ryan moved to stand mere inches from her. He’d showered since this afternoon, and she inhaled the scent of sandalwood soap and the man himself—a potent combination that left her heady. She grasped the railing for support.

“You still look like you’re sixteen. Hard to believe you’re someone’s mother.”

Kait stilled, unsure what to say.

His assessing glance moved to where her fingers remained splayed on the railing. “Divorced?”

“I was engaged.” She covered her naked ring finger. “It was a mistake.”

“Ah.” He nodded and paused for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t still have that little promise ring I gave you.”

Kait found herself speechless. Why was she surprised at his words? That was Ryan. Bold as you please. He always said what he thought.

The silence stretched until Ryan cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Could I just ask you a question?”

“Only one?”

“Oh, I’ve got a dozen or so more, but I’m guessing maybe it’s best for both of us to take it one at a time.”

“Ryan, I …”

He held up a palm. “No. A long time ago I convinced myself that you must have had a really good reason for leaving. Whatever I did, well, there’s not much I can do about it now. So I’m just praying that in your own good time you’ll tell me.”

Their eyes met, and she glimpsed the pain in his eyes once more. She raised a brow, ready to hear his one question.

“Did you ever think of me?”

Kait swallowed, wishing for a sip of sweet tea about now. She focused on the faded gray boards of the porch floor. “Yes.”

In truth, she’d never stopped thinking about him. A shiver ran across her shoulders. And every time she looked at their daughter, she thought of him yet again.

“Ryan, I do want to tell you why I left. I came back to Oklahoma with that in mind, settling the past once and for all.”

“Once and for all? Doesn’t sound good.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Momma, your phone is ringing.”

Kait turned at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Jenna stood at the screen.

She looked at Ryan. “Would you excuse me for a minute? I’m expecting a call from the Realtor.”

“Sure.” Ryan exhaled and gazed out at the yard, then glanced back at the house. Jenna stood quietly behind the screen studying him.

“Hey, Jenna.”

“Hi.” She watched him for a few minutes longer then quietly asked, “Is my kitten okay?”

“She is. When I left the clinic, she was curled in a little ball, sleeping.”

Jenna smiled. She released a yawn and rubbed her left eye with a knuckle.

“Tired?”

She nodded. “I was going to go to bed, but my closet doors are stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“They slide open, and Momma says they get off their track sometimes.”

“Do you want me to take a look at them for you?”

“Yes, please.”

He opened the screen and paused in the foyer. Kait was in the kitchen to his left, her back to him as she spoke to someone while eyeing a calendar on the refrigerator.

He followed Jenna upstairs, his hand on the smooth oak banister as he moved up the wide staircase of threadbare-carpeted steps to the second floor of the old house.

“That’s my grandpa’s room,” Jenna said as they passed a five-paneled door with a crystal knob. Her voice became a hush. “We aren’t allowed to go in there.”

They passed another room, the door slightly ajar. “Momma’s. But don’t look because it’s kind of messy. She’s going through lots of boxes.” Jenna released a frustrated sigh. “She says we can’t stay.”

“I see.”

“This is my room. It used to be my mother’s when she lived here a long, long time ago.”

Not so very long ago, he mused while eyeing the simple twin bed and matching bureau. A beautiful, worn pastel quilt covered the bed. Funny, he’d known Kait since they were sixteen, and he’d never set foot inside this big old house before.

Jenna went to the closet and pushed on the door with a grunt. “It won’t open.”

She was right. The panels were off their track. He raised the outer panel and shoved it back into place, then the door slid open with ease. Inside, the clothes were arranged neatly on hangers.

“All fixed.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jenna gushed as though he’d slain dragons. She pulled a neatly folded pair of pajamas from the closet.

Ryan glanced around the room, his gaze stopping on the artwork tacked to the wall.

One large crayon drawing was of a man and a woman with a little girl in the middle. All were holding hands. For moments, he simply stared at the picture, mesmerized.

“Did you like school when you were a kid like me?” Jenna asked.

“Hmm? School?” He tore his attention from the picture. “Yeah. I liked recess best.”

Jenna laughed.

Ryan looked around the room, and his glance caught a pile of books on a desk next to the bed. “Are all those schoolbooks yours?”

“Yes. I have lots of homework while we’re here.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Second.”

Second? Why did he think Jenna was younger? Ryan frowned. Then again, Kait always did look younger than her years.

“I’m going to be eight next month.”

“November?” He murmured the word.

“Uh-huh. November 25th. Momma says I’m her ‘Thank You, Lord, Thanksgiving baby.’”

November.

A tremor raced through him as his mind began a panicked gallop backward.

Kait left in March eight years ago. Ryan could barely breathe as he slowly did the math. He gripped the bureau for support as his knees threatened to buckle.

“Thanksgiving baby.” Ryan whispered the words aloud as he looked into Jenna’s sweet face. His gaze skimmed over the dark eyes, the freckles on the bridge of her nose—a nose just like his own.

The penny fell into the slot.

Jenna was his daughter.