She bit her lip. Not anymore.
His broad shoulders slumped. “I was sorry to hear about Jax’s wife.”
“Exactly why I haven’t told my parents. They’ll be home after New Year’s.”
Who could’ve foreseen that she and her older brother, Jaxon, would both be widowed? This first Christmas without his wife, Jax needed their parents’ support. Their undivided attention.
She wasn’t eager to face the disappointment in her beloved father’s eyes. A disappointment not unlike the look on Ryan’s face.
“How did Charlie take the news?”
Charlie was Anna’s youngest brother, a deputy sheriff in town.
She pursed her lips. “I haven’t told him yet. I drove straight across the Bay Bridge Tunnel to school this morning from Virginia Beach.”
“Did you stay overnight with Will?” Ryan’s brow creased. “What did he say?”
A year younger than Anna, her firefighter brother lived on the other side of the bay.
“I made him promise to let me tell the rest of the family in my own time.”
Ryan shook his head. “So you drove all the way from Texas? You must be exhausted, Anna.”
In more ways than he could possibly know. Yet she was compelled by an inexplicable need to come home and mend fences with her family.
She took a breath. “I called Charlie this morning to let him know I was driving straight to work.”
Ryan frowned. “As I recall, your ex–deputy sheriff father doesn’t like surprises. Are you sure springing the baby on them is the best way to handle the situation?”
She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I wish you’d trust I’ve made the best decision for me and my baby.”
His eyes locked onto hers. “I wish...”
Something fluttered inside her chest. What did he wish?
He pinched his lips together. “Never mind.” Pivoting, he exited the media center as suddenly as he’d reappeared in her life.
She blinked away tears. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
Why had she believed it would be different here? Brushing aside every obstacle, she’d left everything behind to be home for Christmas. She’d so needed a new start.
If this was any indication of the reception she’d get from her hometown... Her gut wrenched. She’d hoped the people who knew her best and loved her the most would also love this child.
Had she made a mistake in coming home?
Out in the school parking lot, Ryan regretted his abrupt departure. He wrenched open his car door. There were so many questions he should’ve asked Anna. But he’d been stunned by her pregnancy.
Where was the baby’s father? Why had he left Anna to face her family alone with the news? What kind of man—?
His gut tightened. What sort of friend was he to let her face her family alone? She’d only asked one thing of him. To be her friend. To trust her.
But the pregnancy made no sense. This wasn’t like Anna. Not the Anna Pruitt he remembered. After her husband’s death, had she succumbed to grief or loneliness? Had she changed so much from those long-ago childhood days?
Getting into his car, he drove toward town. He followed Highway 13, which bisected the Delmarva Peninsula of Delaware, Maryland and Virginia into bayside and seaside. The tiny fishing village of Kiptohanock—their hometown—hugged the Atlantic shoreline.
Entering the small hamlet, he looped around the village square. The Waterman’s Association had been busy. Christmas wreaths hung from the gas-powered lanterns on each corner of the green.
Anna’s sister-in-law, Evy, worked in the library on the west side. On the south end of the square stood the white brick volunteer fire department. Ryan parked in the empty parking lot of the Sandpiper Cafe, closed for the evening.
This time of year, he found himself missing his father more than usual. His dad had loved participating in community events.
On the nearby waterfront, commercial and recreational boats bobbed in the marina. The steeple of the white clapboard church pierced the winter sky above the harbor. At the Coast Guard station, flags fluttered in the stiff wind.
The wind off the water would be cold this time of year. Yet his oceanside home rarely saw snow nor, hopefully, none of the more usual ice storms.
What kind of Christmas did Oscar, Maria or Zander look forward to? In less than a month, he’d say goodbye to his classroom and the kids forever.
His hands clenched around the wheel. Which was what he’d worked for—to leave the family on a better financial footing and return to the research he loved.
But the children he’d leave behind tugged at his heart. Even Zander, despite the third grader’s determination to keep everyone at arm’s length. Ryan blew out a breath of air. He’d not foreseen that when he tendered his resignation.
Arm’s length. He’d done the same since changing careers and coming home to help his family. As for seeing Anna again? The rush of emotion had caught Ryan by surprise.
What would happen to kids like Oscar, Maria and Zander after Ryan left the Shore for good?
He throttled the steering column. “This isn’t my problem, God.” But saying that out loud didn’t ease his conscience as he’d hoped.
Ryan released his grip on the wheel and leaned against the seat. The replacement teacher would be fine. The children would be fine. Anna and her baby would be fine.
Would they? Would Ryan? Was there a reason Anna had come into his life now?
Only the sound of shorebirds wheeling above the glittering water of the inlet broke the silence. But he couldn’t shake the memory of the unspoken plea in Anna’s beautiful eyes. To trust her. To understand. To be her friend.
She seemed so sad and alone. First losing her husband and now being a single parent. He shouldn’t have walked away. He needed to apologize. No one should feel that sad or alone, especially at Christmas.
And when her very intimidating ex-deputy dad found out about the baby... Ryan winced. He didn’t envy Anna that conversation.
He spied Seth Duer stuffing something fur-lined and red into the cab of his truck, and Ryan got an idea. He grinned. A surprise not only for the children, but for Anna, too.
* * *
So like their deputy sheriff father, Charlie’s uniformed shoulders hunched in the overstuffed armchair. “Why didn’t you tell us about the baby, Anna?”
Sitting on the sofa in her childhood home, Anna fidgeted. “Because you would’ve tried to talk me out of it.”
Perched on the armrest, Evy dangled her trademark high heels. “And your due date is January 6?” Her smile made her cheeks brush her retro horn-rimmed eyeglasses. “An Old Christmas baby. The Epiphany.”
The glasses reminded Anna of Ryan. She’d expected too much from a childhood friend she hadn’t seen in years. She’d underestimated the distance time and geography had created between them.
Just before high school graduation, she’d actually thought—hoped—Ryan might care for her as more than a friend. But he never said anything. And she chalked it up to wishful thinking. The road not taken. At this point, a road she couldn’t afford to take.
She steeled herself against the ache Ryan’s rejection evoked. “Mateo’s people call it the Día de Los Reyes.”