The Secret Sin (4 page)

Lindsey waved a hand. “Away from everything.”

Now that Annie was on board, Lindsey wasn’t going to say anything that would get her sent back to Pittsburgh. She was staying put if she could help it.

Anywhere was better than home.

W
ELL
, that hadn’t gone well.

Annie watched helplessly as Lindsey retreated into the bedroom she was using. The girl had changed out of her jeans into a pair of gray jersey knit shorts with
Princess
printed across the bottom.

Princess. Yeah, Annie was way out of her league when it came to Lindsey.

She’d half feared that Lindsey would change her mind about staying and say she wanted to go home, but the girl had surprised her. Not that the visit would be a done deal until she talked to Lindsey’s parents.

Annie had left a second message for them and could barely concentrate while she waited for the phone to ring. Sometime between inviting Lindsey to stay and now, Annie had allowed herself to hope for time to get to know the girl.

No. Not hope. That was too mild a word.

She
craved
more time with Lindsey—and she was desperately afraid she wouldn’t get it.

The phone rang, making Annie jump. She hurried into the kitchen and picked up the receiver of the wall-mounted phone. “Hello.”

“Annie, it’s Ryan.”

Annie’s brain froze, her throat closed up and her legs almost gave out. She could only think of one reason for him to call.

He knew.

She put a hand on the counter to steady herself. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer. She braced herself, struggling to decide whether she would admit the truth.

“I’m calling to see how Lindsey’s feeling,” Ryan said.

How Lindsey was feeling? His words didn’t compute. She’d expected him to say he’d guessed Lindsey was the baby they’d given up for adoption.

“Annie? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she choked out, feeling overwhelming relief. “I’m here.”

Her voice sounded raspy and unfamiliar with none of the maturity she’d strived so hard to develop over the years.

“How is Lindsey?” he asked.

A few more seconds passed. She closed her eyes briefly. She was handling the call poorly, arousing suspicion where there might not be any. She fought to regain her equilibrium. “Fine. She’s fine.”

“Good to hear. Just make sure she doesn’t skip meals and she shouldn’t have the problem again.”

“Okay. Sure.” She still sounded unsophisticated and unsure of herself, which was unacceptable. Especially with Ryan Whitmore on the other end of the line.
Get off the phone,
her brain screamed.
The less you talk to him, the better.
“Thanks for calling.”

“Wait!” Ryan’s appeal was loud enough that she heard him even though she was just about to hang up. She reluctantly held the phone back up to her ear.

“You’re guiding the ten o’clock white-water trip tomorrow morning, right?” he asked.

“I’m planning to,” she said slowly, afraid of what he would say next.

“Good, because I’m thinking about taking it.”

She grimaced at the prospect of Ryan coming along on one of the trips, invading her world. How could she do her job with him in one of the rafts, reminding her of a past she didn’t want to think about?

A beep sounded, signaling an incoming call. Annie normally considered it rude to place one person on hold to talk to another. Rarely, if ever, did she use call waiting. She didn’t intend to now, either.

“I’ve got to take this call,” she said. “It could be Lindsey’s parents.”

“Of course,” he said. “I don’t mind hold—?”

“Goodbye,” she interrupted, pretending not to hear him. She disconnected, then answered the other call. She was right. The caller was Gretchel Thompson, Lindsey’s stepmother.

Out of the fire and into the inferno, Annie thought.

“Thanks for calling,” she said. “I’m Annie Sublinski, Frank Sublinski’s daughter.”

“Oh, yes,” Gretchel said. “Your father’s visited us a bunch of times, usually with Lindsey’s grandfather. He’s a great guy.”

Gretchel seemed to have no idea that Annie was
Lindsey’s birth mother. Had her husband failed to tell Gretchel about the adoption arrangement? Was it possible he didn’t know about it, either?

Annie realized she had something in her hand. It was a piece of paper she’d crumpled into a ball from the pad she kept by the phone. She set it down and explained how Lindsey had ended up in Indigo Springs.

“I’m so sorry,” Gretchel said. “I’ll have a return ticket waiting tomorrow morning at the train station.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Annie prayed she wouldn’t sound too eager. “Since Lindsey’s already here, why not let her stay a while?”

“You want her to stay?” The woman sounded incredulous.

Lindsey wandered into the kitchen and stood against a wall, watching Annie with hooded eyes.

“It’ll give me a chance to see why my father is so fond of her.” Annie took a breath, trying to figure out how to persuade Lindsey’s stepmother to agree to the visit. “I promise to take good care of her.”

“Since you’re Frank’s daughter, I’m sure you would,” Gretchel said. “Could I talk to Lindsey, please? I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“Sure.” Annie kept her excitement in check, reminding herself Gretchel hadn’t agreed to anything yet. She held the phone out to Lindsey. “She wants to talk to you.”

Lindsey moved toward Annie as though she were walking the plank. She took the receiver and listened, no doubt to a scolding, in silence. Her face seemed to
run the gamut of expressions, from annoyance to acceptance and finally to what Annie hoped was pleasure.

“Yes,” Lindsey said. “I want to stay.”

The weight that felt as though it had been pressing on Annie’s heart lifted. She took the phone from Lindsey, one question paramount in her mind.

“How long can she stay?” Annie asked.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Gretchel said. “To be honest, it might be better if Lindsey’s out of the house for a while. She’s a good girl, but as you’ll find out she can be sullen and unhappy. Lately we’ve had some…friction.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing important,” Gretchel said. “Just teenage stuff.”

Annie was painfully aware it wasn’t her place to ask for the details even if the girl hadn’t been listening in on the conversation.

“It’s settled, right?” Lindsey asked after Annie hung up. “I can stay?”

“You can stay,” Annie confirmed.

Lindsey clapped her hands and smiled. Annie smiled back, enjoying the moment but realizing trouble might lie ahead. Now that she’d cleared one hurdle, a bigger problem remained.

What was she going to do about Ryan?

R
YAN
had expected Annie to avoid him when he showed up for the Saturday morning white-water trip. He hadn’t anticipated she’d be a no-show.

In his experience, the person in charge tended to at least be on-site during the busiest times of the week. Unless, of course, there was a good reason for her to stay away.

Like a man she clearly wished would leave her alone.

Letting Annie dodge him, however, was the one thing his conscience would no longer allow him to do.

He waited until the few dozen rafters who were taking the morning trip had boarded the bus and he was the only one left in the shop before approaching the long-haired kid at the counter.

“When’s the next white-water trip?” Ryan asked.

“Two o’clock.” The kid didn’t bother to point out that Ryan had arrived in plenty of time to take the first one.

Ryan stuck out a hand. “Ryan Whitmore.”

Looking suspicious of a customer who introduced himself, the kid took a few moments before he shook Ryan’s hand. “Jason Garrity.”

“You been working here long, Jason?” Ryan asked.

One of the fans behind the cash register blew a lock of Jason’s hair into his eyes. He tucked it behind his ear, his fingers brushing against his gold stud earring. “About a month. You want me to sign you up for the afternoon trip?”

So much for small talk. “That depends on who’s guiding the trip.”

“It’ll probably be Annie,” Jason said. “She usually does the morning run but she switched off today.”

“When did she do that?” Ryan leaned one of his forearms on the counter as though he was only casually interested in the answer.

“Last night, I think,” Jason said. It had probably been right after Ryan had mentioned his interest in the trip. “Jill—she’s one of our other guides—showed up here pretty early to take her place.”

Ryan glanced at the wooden wall clock, which was shaped like a fish. At shortly past ten, it wasn’t early anymore, but the little house behind the shop where Annie lived had looked suspiciously quiet. Lindsey might still be asleep but it didn’t make sense that Annie would be. “Do you know where Annie is?”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “She took a mountain bike out on the trail.”

“Which trail?”

“The one with the view of the river, out past where the cars are parked,” he said.

“Any idea when she’ll be back?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know.” Jason frowned at him. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”

“I guess I do,” Ryan acknowledged and left it at that. He slapped the counter once with the palm of his hand and headed out the door. “Thanks.”

He sat down at one of the outdoor tables outside the shop that were set up for rafters waiting for the trips to leave. He situated himself so he had a view of the bike trail, stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest.

Annie might have avoided having him along on one of her white-water trips, but she couldn’t evade him forever. Sooner or later, she’d ride her bike back to the river rafters.

When she did, he’d be waiting.

A
NNIE
leaned over the handlebars of her mountain bike and pumped her legs, trying to concentrate on climbing the hill.

Unfortunately all she could think about was Ryan.

She’d timed her ride so she wouldn’t be back at Indigo River Rafters until after the ten o’clock group left for the river. That way she’d miss Ryan entirely.

Perhaps she was a coward for not facing him, but there was no point in complicating things. Gretchel Thompson hadn’t set a date for Lindsey’s return, but school started two weeks from Monday. That was sixteen days from now.

Annie was determined to keep the circumstances of Lindsey’s birth a secret so the girl’s life could return to normal at her visit’s end. She already knew hers never would.

Not when the baby she’d given up had grown into a young girl with a face and a name and a penchant for sleeping late.

Annie’s lungs strained for air and her breaths came in short gasps as she approached the crest of the hill. Her mind whirled as much as the bike wheels while she tried to come to terms with her decision not to tell Ryan about Lindsey.

She was rotten at keeping secrets and always had been. Her father maintained that she was the most straightforward person he knew.

Her father.

He’d phoned minutes after she’d awakened, full of apologies for keeping the truth about Lindsey’s adoption from her all these years.

His excuse was that he couldn’t bear to lose all contact with his granddaughter.

As though it had been his decision to make.

It seemed her father wasn’t the only one who’d kept secrets. He reported that the late Helene Nowak had had so much trouble persuading her husband, Ted, to agree to adopt that she hadn’t told him she knew the birth family. Lindsey had been told she was adopted but given no further details.

All of which put Annie in the uncomfortable, uncharacteristic position of hiding the truth.

She crested the hill, the burning sensation in her thighs finally easing. The tough part of the ride was over. The rest of the way was downhill, with the dirt trail cutting a path through a thicket of trees and emerging near the field Indigo River Rafters used for a parking lot.

Air whooshed over her face, cooling her skin and blowing through her hair as the bike jostled over the slightly uneven ground.

She glimpsed base camp in the distance, her signal to ease up. Intending to coast the rest of the way, she stood up, resting her weight on the pedals.

The left pedal snapped off with an audible click.

Annie’s foot touched air and then the sole of her shoe scraped along the dirt of the path.

The bicycle skidded sideways, sliding out from under her. She pitched forward, her upper body going airborne. The ground rushed up to meet her.

Desperately fighting the impulse to tense up, she let
herself fall. The right side of her body smacked the ground, with her rear end absorbing the brunt of the impact.

Then she was half sliding, half rolling down the hill.

“Annie!” Someone was calling her name. She was too stunned by the fall to figure out who it was.

She smelled grass and saw stars. She blinked a few times and her vision cleared enough for her to realize she was sprawled in a soft patch of grass to the side of the trail.

“Annie!”

She heard the same voice, closer this time and jarringly familiar.

She groaned, not so much in pain but in dread. Sitting up, she struggled to gather her scrambled wits for the confrontation she couldn’t avoid.

“Are you okay?” Ryan Whitmore’s face entered her field of vision, his handsome features full of concern. He bent over, looking as though he intended to determine the extent of her injuries.

She raised a hand, dismayed to find it shaking. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t touch her but still hovered over her. “That was quite a fall.”

She didn’t yet know how badly she was hurt, but wasn’t about to admit to anything. She brushed the leaves and the grass and the dirt from her arms and legs, taking stock of her injuries. A bad scrape on her right thigh. A sore spot on her hip that would turn into a bruise if it hadn’t already. A banged-up elbow.

And severely wounded pride.

“Like I told you,” she said, “I’m fine.”

Before he could insist on helping her up, she got to her feet. Various body parts screamed in protest. The world went momentarily black, the stars returning before they performed another disappearing act.