Lizzy grinned. “I’d be with Summer and Harry.”
“That sounds like fun. Are you done making pastry? I’ll finish off and then we can clean up and read a book while our pie is cooking.”
She heard the front door open and then the sound of paws on the floor as Cocoa sprinted into the kitchen.
“Cocoa!” Abandoning her duties as pastry maker, Lizzy jumped off the chair and hugged the dog, spreading flour and goodwill in equal measure.
Emily’s heart lifted as Ryan walked into the room, wiping droplets of rain from his face. “She’s learned sit, but stay is still giving us a problem.”
His gaze connected with hers briefly, and the look he gave her sent heat rushing to her cheeks.
“Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s Lizzy’s favorite gourmet treat. Mac and cheese followed by blueberry pie.”
“That sounds like the best invitation I’ve had in a long time.” He hunkered down next to Lizzy. “I saw a boat on the beach. A boat that is even better than mine. No idea how something that spectacular could have just shown up on the sand like that. Any ideas?”
Lizzy was giggling, her hands full of Cocoa. “Emily and I made it. We copied yours.”
“It’s a better-looking boat than mine. Any time you want to build me a proper boat, go right ahead.” He rose to his feet. “So, you played in the sand.”
“And the sea. I swam.”
His eyebrows rose. “With Rachel?”
“With Emily.”
“Emily swam in the sea?” There was a strange note to his voice, and Emily slid the pie into the oven.
“I remembered everything you taught me.”
“You should have told me you wanted to do that. I would have come with you.”
“It wasn’t something I planned. And I needed to do it by myself.”
He nodded slowly. “And how did it feel?”
She thought about the sensation of the water on her limbs, the terror of feeling the waves tug at her and the satisfaction of having confronted something that frightened her so badly. “It felt good. I don’t think I’ll be swimming to the mainland anytime soon, but it was a start.”
Lizzy scrambled to her feet. “Ryan, will you read a story?”
“Sure.” He lifted her into his arms. “What’s it to be? Green Eggs and Ham?”
Knowing how badly Lizzy needed to be wrapped in that security blanket right now, Emily sent him a grateful look. “I’ll fetch the book.”
“Not that one.” Lizzy’s arms were around his neck. “I want the one in your head. The one you told me that time Emily was sick, about Abbie, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter who kept the lights burning when her father couldn’t get back to the island.”
Ryan sat down at the table with Lizzy on his lap and started telling the story while Emily made sauce for the mac and cheese. Thunder boomed outside the cottage, and Lizzy flinched against Ryan, who carried on telling the story in his calm, steady voice.
“It was one of the
worse storms ever—”
“Worse than this one?”
“Much worse than this one...”
Lizzy kept interrupting, asking questions. Did Ryan think Abbie had been afraid? Why hadn’t she used a boat to escape? Could the waves have covered the lighthouse?
He answered everything with the same quiet patience, returning each time to the story until another clap of thunder came from overhead. This one was so loud even Emily flinched, and Lizzy hid her face in Ryan’s chest and clutched his shirt.