Read The Pickle Boat House Online
Authors: Louise Gorday
The Pickle Boat House (29 page)
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
FAITH
Van shifted her gaze from the window back to Bennie. “What am I going to do with all this?” she asked, with a sweep of her hand. “I don’t know anything about running a pub. How could he have so much faith in me?”
“He has faith in you because he loves you,” Bennie replied. “This was his dream, and he knew that if anything happened to him, you and I together could carry on and make this place work. We’re not going to fail him. I’ll be right here, and you can just be strong for me, okay? It’s what he wanted. He was prepared. He was taking it all in stride. Hector warned him to make a will, and he did—and a power of attorney, too. Everything he has is under our control. HYA got nothing in the end—not Nevis, not Ryan, zippo. Ryan had the last laugh.”
“I’m not laughing,” said Van, teary eyed as she looked around Ryan’s office. “Life has been nothing but day after day of putting one foot in front of the other and, at the end of each day, giving into mind-numbing fatigue. Then I get to get up the next day and repeat it all over again. Empty, mindless pattern and repetition. If he doesn’t make it, I can’t do this, Bennie.” Van sat down in the nearest chair and put her head in her hands. She was too empty to cry.
Bennie walked over, pulled up a chair, and draped a protective arm around her. “He’s going to make it, and I know that you can, too, hon. Stare this in the face, Van, even though you feel you can’t. Dig deeper—you’re stronger than you know. In fact, I’ve never met anyone stronger. You haven’t come this far to give it all up now.”
But how had they gotten to this point? And where, exactly, were they? Against heavy odds, Ryan continued to survive the shooting. It was still a waiting game—God’s rules and God’s call. Hector’s bullet had come within an inch of Ryan’s heart and right lung, and it was all the paramedics could do to keep him from slipping away as they rushed him to the hospital. Van worried that his purpose in life was complete and that he would once more disappear from her life. Even if he survived, who would come back to her: the Ryan she knew and loved, or the Ryan whose mercenary ruthlessness had made him the pride of HYA? Van didn’t know. She spent every day sitting at his bedside, praying that she hadn’t already lost him.
* * *
“He’s still heavily medicated,” said the nurse as Van arrived for her daily visit, “but he’s been alert a couple of times today. His eyes might follow you, but don’t be upset if he doesn’t talk—or doesn’t make a whole lot of sense if he does. He’s so full of medicine, he’ll be loopy.”
Every time Van entered his room, it broke her heart all over again. The tubes, the steady beep and whir of machines, the medicinal smell—it made her want to scream. She took the seat closest to the bed and wrapped her hand around his. Jean, with her for the first time, took the opposite chair. Her wide-eyed stare betrayed the anxiousness she had been trying so hard to hide. Van watched her eyes, so full of fear, darting all over the room, and wondered if she had ever been in a hospital.
“Ryan,” Van said in a loud, steady voice, “it’s Van. Do you know who I am? Blink once if you do. If you’re confused, blink twice.”
Ryan opened his eyes, but there was no other response.
Van winced. “This is Van. Don’t you remember me?” The steadiness was gone from her voice now. She tried to keep down the panic rising in her like bile as she tried to decide whether this was
her
Ryan or
their
Ryan.”
“Who? I’d like to buy a drink … for old time’s sake.”
“Old times … ?”
“Yeah. We’ve met before?”
“Is that the best line you’ve got?” Van asked, tears running down her cheeks. Who did he think she was?
“No line. We’ve met before. I’m sure. Just one? If it doesn’t work out, I’ll walk away … win-win.”
“Win-win?” Van repeated. The phrase that she had learned to hate now sounded like music to her ears. She smiled, glancing at Jean for affirmation that this was
her
Ryan, the man she wasn’t going to be able to live without. “Why is that?”
“Just because. I think we’re good this time.”
Ryan turned his gaze on Jean and frowned.
“Do you know who this is?” Van asked.
The frown continued. “Marla,” he said with a sigh, and closed his eyes.
“No, not Marla. That’s Jean, my next-door neighbor.”
“The nosey one.”
Van burst out laughing in relief, in spite of herself, as she watched Jean’s shocked response. “Yeah, that’s the one. We’ve been here waiting for you to wake up. Welcome back, Ryan.”
“Where’s Bennie?”
Bennie’s fine. Everyone’s fine. Nevis is safe.”
Ryan chuckled as he groggily continued to meander through the conversation. “My wingman. He really likes you, but not as much as I do. I love you.”
Van continued to laugh through tears of joy. “That’s good, because I like Bennie, but not as much as I love you.”
“Bennie loves Jean …
shhh
… but don’t tell her, Marla,” Ryan said, looking at Jean. “She’d bolt like a rabbit.”
“Bennie really said that?” asked Jean, the anxiousness in her eyes giving way to an entirely different emotion.
“Hector?” Ryan said, ignoring Jean’s burning question. Jean shot Van a desperate request for help.
“Are you going to take inventory of
everyone
?” Van asked, ignoring Jean’s stare and the hand pulling on her sleeve.
“Hector,” he repeated.
“He’s down the hall in critical condition … bastard didn’t die. They’ve charged him with attempted murder and enough other charges to put him away for life. Officer McCall still can’t believe you both survived. He thought you were dead when he found you at the Phoenix. A few more minutes, and you would have been. Thank God for the silent alarm. Why … ?”
“Because,” he whispered, and turned his head into his pillow. “I’m so tired.”
“I know,” Van said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “We’ll let you sleep for a little while, but I’ll be back. I’ve got to talk to the doctor about when we can get you home.”
“To the pickle boat house,” he whispered, squeezing her hand.
“Yes, to the pickle boat house. You’ll get better there.”
“Van?”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa Hardy?”
“Yes, Ryan Thomas.”
“Win-win.”
“Uh-huh,” Van whispered as she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s a definite win-win.”
“You believe in second chances?”
“Yes, Ryan.” She squeezed his hand and felt him relax as he gave in to the soothing effects of love and sedation. And a sense of peace and joy washed over her in turn. “Now, get some sleep. Next time you wake up it’ll be in the pickle boat house. God works in mysterious ways. We’ve been blessed with a second chance.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CODA
Van tossed the coffee grounds into the trash can and was about to close the lid when she saw the remains of a letter, torn into pieces and shoved down along the side of the trash can. She fished the pieces back out and carefully laid them out on the table. The legal-size envelope had a New York postmark. The contents, typed on plain white bond, read simply, “Always the best. 432.94.341227 647535314 8.”
HYA? During his recovery, Ryan had been silent on the subject. But was he finished with them? Now she had her doubts. She walked to the front door, where she could see Ryan sitting outside on the porch steps, waiting for the sun to rise. She had memories of James sitting in that very spot. Their body language was identical. Van had never wanted to think of James as a memory, but at some point after meeting Ryan, she had stopped daydreaming about him. Despite her best efforts, he had disappeared into the golden mist of her memories.
Van let the screen door slam behind her as she walked outside and sat down next to Ryan. “Okay?”
“Yeah, good place. You?”
“Good place,” she repeated. “Are you ready to go back to work tomorrow?”
“More than ready. You and Bennie have done great, but I need to take that weight back off your shoulders. And surfing the Net gets old, even if I did find you a mate for your carousel horse down in the museum. Dentzel. It’ll be here in a couple of weeks.
“Dentzel? Ryan, that must have cost a fortune. What am I going to do with another carousel animal? I don’t even know what to do with the one I already have.”
“I have a plan.”
“Oh, God. Isn’t recuperating from a near-fatal gunshot wound and running a tavern enough for one man? What are you getting me into now?”
“That’s what happens when you have nothing to do but recuperate and think. It would be nice if we rebuilt the Nevis carousel, somewhere near the green, as a sort of tribute to the town’s heritage. It’ll take a while to buy and restore everything, but it will be worth it when we’re done. I can pay for it all,” he said quickly, seeing the look on her face. “I’m sorry … I thought you’d like the idea.”
“I do, but it’s the money thing,” she said, and she handed him a piece of his shredded letter. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but I’m shocked. Are you still working for HYA?”
Ryan’s face fell as his eyes flicked from Van to the letter. “It’s not what you think. When I went to New York to cut ties with Hector Senior I agreed to honor one last future request from him. I didn’t know what it would be, but I stupidly agreed anyway. I’m sorry, but it was the only chance I had to walk away, and I took it. Well, Hector Senior is dead. He passed away a few weeks ago—complications from a stroke. HYA has been cleaning house ever since. Before he passed, he asked me to honor my agreement, and I did. That letter has the bank information for eight million dollars deposited in an account for me in the Caymans. Even in death, he was a generous man.”
“What did you do for him that was worth so much money?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve done much more egregious things than what he requested. God knows, he could have demanded so much more. I handled certain papers and transactions for him that I won’t discuss with you or anyone else. I fulfilled my end of the bargain, and he died with certain assurances. That’s the end of it. I have no intention of taking the money. That’s why you found the letter in the trash.
Do we have to worry about HYA anymore?”
Ryan looked at her, and she could see the wheels turning. “Don’t lie to me,” Van said, exasperated. “Why do you do that?”
“Sorry. There are still some inclinations I have to fight.”
She nodded. “And?”
“They’ll be back, and it’ll be business in a personal sense—purely vindictive and punitive. But it’ll be a while. They need to regroup first. We have time.”
“Time. There’s no guarantee of time. It’s all borrowed.”
“I know,” Ryan said, “and good for us that we know it. I don’t intend to squander a single precious minute.”
“Me, either,” said Van. How is it that our love has defied all this?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
She shook her head. It didn’t, really. The “why” and the “how” in her life still added up to “just because.” She could live with that. She could really, finally, move forward.
“Do you remember all the times you sat here as a child?”
He shook his head. “No. I remember very little about James’s life, but I’m sure I liked it. You do realize that the quiet days in Nevis are probably over? Now that people know there’s something interesting here, you won’t be able to keep them out.”
“Yes, but they’re the right people—people who care. They’ll figure out a way to protect Nevis. That’s more than you or I can do alone. Now we have help. The history buffs and the genealogists will turn over every will, newspaper, insurance policy, and history reference until they put Nevis in its rightful place. We give up a little, but we get a lot. There will always be a greedy HYA out there somewhere.
“Who would ever have thought that Nevis’s history went much deeper than a turn-of-the-century resort, huh?” Van blushed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I like your passion. You look beautiful when you’re animated. Your eyes dance.”
“And I know you obviously have no personal stake in saying that.”
“Van, when we first met, I would have manipulated you into bed in a heartbeat, and left even faster. That would have been the end of it. Things are different now. I’m different now, and I don’t want that. I want a relationship with you. Trust, respect—something that will go the distance.”
“You have brought me peace, Ryan—something I never thought I would have again. I no longer look at Nevis as a hiding place. For the first time in ever so long, I’m looking forward to the future instead of living in the past.”
“Richard has agreed to a divorce. You know you’re the only one standing in the way of us being together.”
“I know. I need to get out of my own way, but I’m not sure I can yet. It’s overwhelming. You have no idea how hard these last few years have been on me. I struggle with the simplest things that break my routine, and I stress all day over them. It’s a box of my own making. I used to think I could do anything I set my mind to, and now I know I can’t.”
“Then let me help you. Damn, Van, I really love you. I hope that doesn’t scare you away. It should be obvious to you by now. Let me help you. ‘Come Be with Me and Be My Love’ and the thousand other love poems I could recite to you. All you have to do is take my hand, and I will love and protect you, forever. Come,” he said, “and get out of your own way.” He reached his hand out to her.
“I’m not sure it’s as easy as you think,” she said. “Though I do believe that we are the only two people who can put each other back together.”
As the sun peeked above the bay, a rush of swans rose from the northern marsh and lumbered southward with long, slow wingbeats. Van reached out and grasped Ryan’s hand. He put his arm around her and tucked her into himself so he could feel her heart beat. This gorgeous morning was a promising start.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE FUGUE AND EXPOSITION
