Whispers at Willow Lake (4 page)

He set the photo aside and reached for the envelope. Slipping a finger beneath the flap, he tore the paper carefully and tugged the note away from its binding. Paper rustled as he unfolded the letter and skimmed carefully-penned words.

Dear Ryder,

If you’re reading this, I’ve gone on to my Heavenly Father. Please don’t grieve for me; I’m more than fine now. I don’t want a fancy to-do. Simply bury me next to my husband. You never knew Jacob, but you would have loved him and he most certainly would have adored you, as well.

You are the son I always hoped for—prayed for—Ryder. God blessed me with you when I’d all but given up. I know you think I saved you but, I must confess, the truth is that
you
saved
me
.

Your life has been filled with closed doors, but there are windows waiting to be opened. Throw them wide to let in fresh air and sunshine. You cannot change the past, but your entire future waits. Embrace it, Ryder, and be richly blessed.

As my dear Jacob went on to his Heavenly rest before me, and you are my only son (yes…you are that and so much more, Ryder), I leave all my worldly possessions to you. All I ask is that you remember where you came from and keep sight of where you long to go, and, along the way, pay this blessing forward.

Listen to your heart, Ryder, and seek His will. In this way, you will find what you are searching for and the path He desires for you. Remember…His will, not yours.

I love you, Son. Godspeed.

Mama

Ryder swiped tears from his eyes as he refolded the letter and returned it to the envelope. She’d called him by name—at least half-a-dozen times. He’d used what she’d taught him, had taken all her words of wisdom to heart, and he’d made something of himself over the past several years—something she would be so proud of. But now, she’d never know the whole story…the ending to what she’d so generously helped him begin.

Tears smoldered in his eyes as he set the envelope aside and reached for the bank statement. She’d scrawled a message on a sticky note attached to the final page.

I’m proud of you, son.

One look at the bottom line and Ryder choked. The room went dark as optic stars danced and the instructions from her letter resonated.

All I ask is that you…pay the blessing forward.

Ryder sank back in the desk chair and covered his face with his hands. His lips moved in the slightest whisper of a prayer. “Lord, help me to do the right thing…to follow the plan You have for me.”

A sense of peace enveloped him. The stars cleared, and his pulse calmed. The knot in his gut loosened as he rose from the chair.

Without a second thought, it was clear what he must do next.

****

Ali smoothed the satin sheets over the bed in the honeymoon suite. The young couple had checked out an hour ago while the retired pair had gone into town to hunt antiques at
Then and Again.
The house was quiet, allowing her time to think.

Ryder had come home to Willow Lake—and to
her
.

“Alison?” Maci’s voice startled her as she fluffed a generous down comforter over the queen-sized bed. “Hello?”

“I’m in the honeymoon suite, Mace.”

Heels clacked along the stairs as Maci made her way to the second floor. She flounced through the doorway and flopped onto the edge of the freshly-made bed.

“Hey there.” Her cinnamon hair danced like a cloud of curls along her back and a signature, flowing rayon skirt skimmed her calves. Her powder-peach T-shirt was adorned with eyelet lace and small, faux pearls. Tall and lithe, with clear, porcelain skin, she might have been a ballerina. But music was her passion—as star violinist for the Willow Lake Symphony. A love of classical music was what had ignited her and Ali’s friendship soon after Maci arrived in town three years ago.

“Hey, yourself.” Alison fluffed a silk throw pillow, placed it with half-a-dozen others along the carved mahogany headboard. “What’s up?”

“Are you OK?”

“Sure. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“It’s all over town, Ali. Ryder’s come home.” Maci fingered the butterfly pendant at her collar. “You’ve spoken of him so often, how the two of you shared something before your brother—”

“That was a long time ago, Mace. It’s water under the bridge.” Alison straightened the knickknacks on the bedside table. “Besides, we both know I don’t have the corner on broken hearts.”

“True.” Maci stood and wrapped her arms over her midsection as she crossed toward a window overlooking the forest beyond. “Has Ryder been here?”

“He’s renting a room. Third floor.”

“And you’re OK with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and spun back, the skirt billowing at her calves. “If it were me, it would be too hard. I guess I just assumed…”

“Is that what everyone in town is doing? Assuming?”

“I don’t know. I just overheard Sergeant Larder talking about how he’d arrested Ryder, hauled him into the station for a suspended license—”

“It was expired, not suspended.” Alison smoothed the comforter where Maci had settled. “And that’s no one’s business but Ryder’s. John shouldn’t be discussing it in public. It’s—well, it’s unprofessional.”

“Oh, Ali.” Maci crossed back to her, fluttering about the room like a leaf caught on a breeze. Ali wondered how she managed to sit long enough to practice her violin or to counsel patients at the music-therapy practice she’d established. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m just…confused.”

“And that’s perfectly understandable.” Maci sighed. “Look, Ali, you’ve shared that Ryder hurt you once—badly—and I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I’m fine, Mace. I’ll be fine.” Alison gathered soiled sheets and headed toward the laundry room, reminding herself that Maci was only trying to help. Her easygoing manner and quiet strength, coupled with genuine concern and boundless energy, were what had drawn Alison to her in the first place. “How are the concert rehearsals coming?”

“Great. We kick off the summer series next weekend, with an outdoor concert at the band shell. Will you come?”

“I’ll think about it…maybe.” She enjoyed music on the radio and having Maci play for guests at the inn. Even a night at the concert hall, with its beautiful sound, was a treat to be savored. But the outdoor band shell, where the breeze whispered with memories that tugged at her heart, was just more than she could handle.

“The weather’s supposed to be perfect. And there’s going to be fireworks after the concert. You should be there. Take a break and just have some fun.” Maci smiled, and the grin was contagious. “How long has it been since you took a night off?”

“Too long, I guess.”

“Maybe Ryder would enjoy the concert, too.”

“He used to enjoy listening to me play the piano.” They’d spent hours together in the great room while she entertained guests at her parents’ bidding. “He took me to the outdoor symphony on my eighteenth birthday. We had a good time.” It had been more than good. Beneath the starlit sky, with the moon veiled in whispers of clouds and a warm summer breeze resplendent with hints of lilac and mown grass, Ryder had slipped her a small box wrapped in a soft pink bow. Inside she found his birthday gift for her…a silver charm bracelet that must have cost his entire summer’s pay. A tiny piano, the lone charm, dangled from the woven band.

“To remember tonight,” he’d whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “We’ll add to it as time passes…lots and lots of charms. There are so many things I want to do with you.”

They’d shared a kiss filled with the promises of all to come.

A few weeks later, Josh was dead.

“Did he say why he finally came home?” Maci’s voice drew Ali back.

“Mama Stallings, for starters.”

“Oh, right. I heard about that, too. She was such a nice woman. It’s so sad.”

“Ryder’s at the retirement village now. He’s planning her memorial. It will be a small gathering, but I’d like you to come if you can.”

“Of course I’ll attend.” Maci paused flitting about the room once more to wrap her arms around Ali. “I know she was special to you, as well.”

“I tried to be there for her, in Ryder’s absence. I hope I did OK.”

“Ali, with your gigantic heart it’s a safe bet that you did way more than OK.” Maci took the load of laundry from Ali’s arms. “I’ve got another hour until rehearsal. After we dump this load in the washer, do you have time for a cup of coffee? I’d like to drop by this summer to play for your guests. Maybe we can take a look at the calendar and see what works.”

“Sure.” Alison nodded, pleased with Maci’s suggestion. Along with being the star violinist for the Willow Lake Symphony, Maci was also a respected music therapist. In the four years since she’d set up residency in Willow Lake, she’d tackled some pretty tough cases, helping numerous kids overcome trauma. She stayed busy, so her offer spoke volumes for the depth of their friendship. “I just made a fresh pot of hazelnut, along with a batch of blueberry scones.”

“Your scones are my biggest weakness.” Maci paused at the laundry room to dump the sheets into the washer. She tossed in a spring rain-scented detergent capsule and closed the washer lid. Then she slung an arm across Ali’s shoulders and squeezed, grinning so her denim-blue eyes sparkled. “Swish, swish…let’s go.”

4

“Ryder, what are you doing?” Alison asked as she strode down the cobblestone path. “Get out of the dirt.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Ryder sat back on his haunches and gazed up at her. Though it was barely seven in the morning, the May sun was warm on his back through a soiled navy T-shirt, and a bandanna wrapped around his forehead absorbed sweat before it dripped into his eyes. His leg was stiff where a scar still healed along his thigh, but he shook it off. The knees of his ripped jeans were splattered with mud.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to be playing in the dirt?”

“I happen to like the dirt.” He’d spent enough time in the barren desert. Besides, he needed something to take his mind off things—off the fact that Mama Stallings had been laid to rest two days ago beside her Jacob, and that half the town—OK, to be honest
all
of the town—had Ryder on its radar. Even a quick trip to the home improvement store yesterday afternoon had incited a litany of speculation from Old Man Jenkins. The past had risen to meet Ryder with a vengeance. “You could offer me a glass of water, though. It’s hot out here.”

“What’s all that river rock for?” Ali pointed with a manicured finger. “And the mulch? Where did you get that truck and those plants?”

“I bought the truck. Can’t haul things without a truck.”

“What about your motorcycle?”

“Romeo still hasn’t released it from the impound.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

“I will.” She scanned the length of the side yard. “I still don’t fully understand what’s going on here, Ryder.”

“Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version: I’m repairing your flowerbeds.”

“I don’t
want
you to repair my flowerbeds.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I
don’t
.” She stomped one foot, deliciously clad in less-than-sensible red stiletto-heeled pumps that matched a flowered skirt. Seams hugged in all the right places while a hint of calf peeked from beneath the hem. How did she get any work done around the inn, dressed like that? Ryder wasn’t sure if the sweat that trickled down his back was caused by the rise in mercury or his eyeful of her. “Don’t tell me what I want, Ryder. Go wash up. I’ve made breakfast.”

“Breakfast can wait.” He knelt again, dumped a magnolia into the hole he’d just finished digging. “This plant is hardy. You can’t destroy it if you tried, Ali.” He grinned and reached for a thermos. “And don’t worry about that glass of water. I brought my own.”

“Good.” She took a step toward him, carefully navigating the upturned mess of soil with the pointy heels of her shoes. “What’s this?”

He caught a whiff of her perfume…sweet and musky. “You’re sure full of questions today.”

“This tattoo.” She jabbed his right bicep. “I don’t remember you having any tattoos, Ryder. What is it?”

“A trident.” He pushed back his shirt sleeve, fully exposing the design with a backdrop of an eagle atop an anchor. “Emblem of the Navy SEALs.”

“But, why…?” A storm cloud swept across Ali’s face and her skin went pale, offsetting a smattering of freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose. “Ryder, where have you really been the past several years?”

“I told you—I joined the military.”

“I know that much. You told me you were scheduled to report for basic training…for the military. But you never said—”

“Honey, the SEALs are the military.”

“That’s dangerous, Ryder.” She took a step back, stumbled as he reached out to catch her. “You should have told me.”

“So you could spend your days worrying? I couldn’t bear that thought, Ali.”

“It’s not your place to make that decision for me. I had a right to know. I would have tried harder to bring you back home.”

“And I wouldn’t have come. I couldn’t until I was ready—until you were ready.”

“And you think I’m ready now?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

“I’m mad at you, Ryder Shane Hawkins.” Her voice went high and shaky as she used his full given name. “No, I’m furious. You could have been killed.”

“Yes, I could have.” His hand gripped her wrist, and he felt the rush of her pulse as her eyes flashed the deepest green. “But, would it have mattered, Ali?”

“I—you—oh!”

The slap caught him across the jaw and stung like a grazing bullet. Her eyes exploded into emerald flames. “I hate you for asking that, for even think—”

“I just needed to know.”

“And I guess you got your answer. I hope you’re pleased.” Ali spun away from him, yanking her arm from his grasp. She stomped up the walk. When one of the pumps slipped, she kicked it away, shucked the second, and tramped on in bare feet. She didn’t pause until she hit the back steps. She turned back just long enough to toss him a death glare before crossing the threshold, slamming the door so hard Ryder was shocked to see it remain on its hinges.