Caribbean Cruising (22 page)

"Can you imagine being the first explorers to discover this place?" Ryan asked.

"I wonder what happened to the people who first lived here."

"No one really knows. It's one of the mysteries of the world. Where did the Mayans go?"

Tourists were swarming over the place, so we didn't stay up there looking down for long. We visited other structures. I couldn't explain what was appealing about looking at the rocks and stones. You'd think if you saw one ancient ruin you'd seen them all.

But there was something mesmerizing about each one.

Away from the main ruins, we ran across the altars. Although we hadn't hired a guide, one was there with another tour group. He was explaining the ritual virgin sacrifices made here.

I couldn't seem to escape it.

"I think he's just entertaining them," Ryan said. "I don't think virgins were really sacrificed here."

"There is a bit of irony in the possibility, though, isn't there?"

Before he could answer I turned to walk back toward the Castle.

"Hey!" It was Brooke waving her arm and hurrying toward us.

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"We found a break in the cliffs. We can get down to the beach. Come and join us."

The cove was made up of fine sand. The water of the Caribbean lapping at the shore was calming. I took my towel out of my backpack and spread it on the sand. Then I laid down beside Brooke.

Ryan and Shooter waded out into the ocean.

"I heard one of the guides say that they sacrificed virgins," Brooke said.

"I heard the same thing. I don't believe it."

"I would think the practice would lead to a promiscuous society."

"Definitely. I can't see that being a virgin would have had any kind of advantage."

"So did you and Ryan make up?"

I turned my head and looked at her. "There was no making up to do. We're buds. That's all."

"Lindsay, I think you're blind."

"Oh, and you have twenty-twenty vision? Shooter is guy number what of how many?"

"Exactly," she said. "My experience is what makes me so keenly aware of the attraction between people."

I laughed and closed my eyes. Brooke was as lost in her own world as I was in mine.

"It would never work between Ryan and me," I said speculatively.

"Why not?"

"Because he's Walter's godson, and there's that whole trusted-friend-of-the-family thing…and if we hooked up and then broke up, there would be that whole awkwardness at family and friend get-togethers. And it's going to be awkward enough as it is. Plus we'll be going to the same school for a couple of years, so that's another opportunity for our paths to cross when we might prefer that they not."

"So, don't break up."

"Like you can control
that
."

"Not everyone has as broken a track record as I do. Sometimes things do work out for people."

"Sometimes," I murmured.

"Are you ready to finish touring the ruins?"

I opened my eyes. Ryan was standing over me.

"Sure."

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He extended his hand. I grabbed it, and he pulled me to my feet. I packed up my sandy towel and, with Ryan beside me, headed back toward the ruins.

I couldn't seem to wrap my head around this whole concept of finding the right guy. Maybe it was more like knowing you'd found the right guy when you found him. I'd thought Jake was the right guy—and he'd turned out to be so totally wrong.

I was still stinging from that realization.

Distracted, not paying attention as we trudged back to the ruins, I looked to the side as an iguana caught my attention. I placed my foot where it shouldn't have been or on something it shouldn't have been on. I wasn't sure.

I just knew that it twisted oddly, and pain shot through my ankle.

"Oh!"

I dropped to the ground and bit back a curse. Ryan knelt beside me.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I wasn't looking where I was walking."

"Let me see."

"I'm sure it's all right. Just help me up."

But it wasn't all right. Pain ricocheted through my ankle whenever I tried to put weight on my foot.

"Oh, great!" I muttered. "This is just great."

"What happened?" Brooke asked as she and Shooter hurried up the path.

"She twisted her ankle," Ryan said. "I'll carry you to the moped, and take you back to the ship."

"You're not going to carry me."

"Sure I am. You can ride on my back. Won't be hard. I hike all the time carrying weighty backpacks."

Terribly offended by being compared to a "weighty backpack," I hopped on my one good foot and hit his shoulder. "I'm not weighty."

"Prove it," he said.

He turned his back to me. "Come on. Get on."

With Shooter's help I managed to do just that—climb onto Ryan's back. He hooked his arms beneath my legs, and supported me while I wound my arms around his neck.

As he trudged up the trail, I wondered if this vacation could get any worse.

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CHAPTER 27

I
t
could
get worse. Or at least that's what I was thinking as I sat up in my bed with my foot elevated and ice packs around my ankle.

It had been near sunset when we'd finally been able to get back to the ship, with me hopping on one foot from place to place—whenever Ryan wasn't carting me around like an overloaded backpack.

The ship's doctor diagnosed my injury as a "slightly sprained" ankle. He'd wrapped it, and told me to keep it elevated and on ice for the evening.

Here we were in Cozumel, where the nightlife was really something we could all get into, and I was stuck in my cabin. The others were on the island, probably eating at Hard Rock Café or Planet Hollywood. After which they'd hit the discos.

We weren't leaving until tomorrow afternoon, and here I was, my last night in this port, totally and completely alone.

I'd forbidden Ryan to tell Mom that I'd hurt myself. No reason to ruin her honeymoon simply because I'd ruined my vacation.

Ryan had gotten a key to my cabin—" So I can check on you without you having to come to the door."

He'd brought me to my room, using a stupid wheelchair that the doctor had provided. He'd helped me onto the bed.

The first thing he'd done was put the remote control within my reach. So typical of a guy to think my main concern was not being able to access television.

Then he'd made ice packs, and wrapped them around my ankle.

He'd actually been very nice, and I did appreciate all that he'd done. He'd made sure that I had something to drink and snack on. He'd been the perfect nurse.

And then he'd left.

From my bed I'd watched the sunset through the doors leading out to my balcony. Alone. I did not want to spend the last night in this port having a one-person pity party.

I thought I heard a commotion in the hallway, and then there was a knock on my door.

"Lindsay, it's Ryan. Can I come in?"

I was never in my entire life so grateful to hear his voice.

"Yes! Come on in."

Hurry, hurry, hurry.
I would be grateful for any company. I heard the keycard click, the handle turn mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....

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down…

The door opened and the Usual Suspects poured into my cabin. Brooke led the way.

"Since you couldn't come to Cozumel for the night, we've brought Cozumel nightlife to you," she announced.

I felt tears sting my eyes. It was the pain medication I'd taken. It made me all weepy.

"Oh, guys, you didn't have to do that."

"We know," Shooter said. "But what are friends for?"

And I realized that they were my friends. That during this week, we'd developed a bond. It had kind of snuck up on me, but it was there.

Someone plugged in a portable CD player with speakers, and music was filling the room. Pizza boxes were spread out on the coffee table. An ice chest was placed near the bed.

Cameron opened it. Inside were iced-down bottles of beer, and two pitchers of frozen margaritas, one of which was strawberry.

"Oh, guys, thanks, but I took some pain meds and I can't have alcohol."

"Not a problem," Brooke said. "Ryan told us that would be the case so…" She lifted out the strawberry pitcher. "This one's a virgin."

I laughed. How typical.

"And we can raid your minibar to make individual non-virgin drinks," Brooke said.

"Make yourselves at home!" I exclaimed.

And they did.

My cabin, because it was so large with a sitting area and the balcony, was perfect for a party. People gathered in little two-or three-people clusters on the balcony, in the sitting area, and on my bed.

The people on my bed constantly changed, as though I were a queen and they were subjects coming to visit. I was surprised by how much we had to talk about.

We'd so moved beyond that first awkward, "Where are you from?"

The cruise was winding down, and it was like we were just gearing up.

The one person who didn't come to talk to me, the one person who seemed to stay at the edge of the party, was Ryan. More an observer than a participant.

Around two o'clock, Brooke announced that it was time for this party to end.

"I'll check in with you tomorrow," she said. "We're going to get up early in the morning, and do a little mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....

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scuba diving before the ship leaves port."

"Oh, that'll be fun. Don't worry about checking on me, though. Just get to the beach as early as you can."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"We'll miss you."

One by one, everyone stopped by and said good-bye: Marc, Shooter, Chad, Cameron, David, Michael, Cathy, and Donna. We'd all become quite the group.

When everyone had left, Ryan began gathering up the empty pizza boxes and the discarded beer cans.

"Leave all that," I said. "The maid can clean it up in the morning. I'll give her a really nice tip."

"It'll just take me a second. I even came prepared." He dug a plastic bag out of his jeans pocket, and shook it open. Then he began dumping all the trash into it.

"Was having the party your idea?" I asked.

"Brooke and I sorta hatched it together."

"So I guess you don't see her as a trouble-causing octopus anymore."

He grinned at me. "She has her good points."

He closed up the bag, tossed it toward the door, and walked to the bed.

"You need anything before I go?" he asked.

What I needed was for him to stay, to sleep with me like he had that first night, curled around me. But I couldn't tell him that. Instead I just shook my head.

He shoved his hands into the back hip pockets of his jeans. "Listen, I thought if you were feeling up to it, we could rent a couple of horses tomorrow. Take a quick tour of the island. Riding a horse wouldn't put much pressure on that ankle."

"Ryan, that's nice of you to offer, but you should go scuba diving with the others."

"I've scuba dived before. I'd just as soon tour the land as the sea."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, then, yeah, I'd like to go horseback riding tomorrow."

"Great."

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He walked to the head of the bed, leaned down, and brushed a quick kiss across my lips. "See you in the morning. Call me if you need me before then."

He turned and headed for the door.

"Ryan?"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me.

I swallowed hard. "Thanks…for everything."

"Anytime."

He picked up the trash bag and left.

And I found myself wishing so badly that he'd stayed.

CHAPTER 28

Cozumel Day Eight

T
here was something old-fashioned and leisurely about riding horseback through a lush tropical forest.

Ryan and I were in a group of six. A guide led the way.

My ankle was feeling much better. We'd stopped by the onboard medical station before we left the ship, and the doctor put a brace on my foot. I tried to keep all the pressure off my ankle, but I was beginning to see why he'd diagnosed my injury as slightly sprained.

I suppose if it was badly sprained, I would have spent another day bored, in bed, with my foot elevated.

Instead I was out in the heat and the humidity. The guide had told us that we'd be traveling through a Mayan jungle, but it wasn't exactly what I'd call a jungle. Jungle brings up images of Tarzan.

We were traipsing through what I would call a forest.

The paths were often narrow, and Ryan had to follow me. Whenever the paths widened, he'd come up beside me.

We didn't do much talking. Mostly we just listened to the sounds of the forest, caught sight of a few animals, birds, and butterflies.

When we came out of the forest, we rode down to the ocean. We dismounted, and our guides removed our saddles so we could ride bareback through the surf.

It was something I'd always thought would be a romantic thing to do. I had to keep my foot up so the brace didn't get wet, but there was something special about riding along the beach. The clear water lapping against the horses' legs.

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I thought about my new friends and wondered where they were off diving. If they'd explored sunken ships or discovered buried treasure.