Phoebe sat in silence. Stunned. Never had she felt so used. She’d shared her body with Ryan. Opened her heart. Believed that she meant something to him. Now he was treating her like she was nothing. What a jerk. He didn’t even have the backbone to tell her that he no longer wanted to help deliver the baby.
She climbed off the table and dressed. Had she ever felt more humiliated? Discarded?
Ryan was there four hours later when a new life entered the world. This time he missed the amazement he usually felt. All he could think about was Phoebe’s large sad eyes when he’d left the exam room. What must she think of him? Probably the same as he was thinking of himself.
He had called to check on her a few days earlier, using all his self-control to wait as long as he had before he’d picked up the phone. Justifying the call, he’d told himself he was after all her midwife. But that hadn’t been the real reason he’d done it. He’d been desperate to hear her voice. He’d done some difficult things in his life but acting as if he didn’t care about Phoebe in front of her had been the hardest. It had been even more challenging not to touch her. She’d looked so dejected when he’d walked out of the room. The devil of it all was that he cared about Phoebe more than anyone else in the world.
The irony was that he had treated her the way he had because he couldn’t deal with the depth of his feelings for her and his inability to handle the mountain of guilt for how he had treated someone who had been important to JT. He was so messed up he had no business being involved with anyone. Until Phoebe, he had managed to keep everyone at bay, but she had slipped past his defenses.
The dark of the night mirrored his emotions as he drove home hours later. For once in his life he wished someone was there to come home to. He let himself into his house and dropped his clothes on the floor. That was a habit that he and Phoebe shared. They both dropped things as soon as they came in the door. He his clothes and she her shoes.
Going to his bedroom, he flipped on the light. When he looked at his bed all he could see was the way Phoebe had lovingly admired his work. He’d never shared his workshop with anyone before. Even the few times female company had stayed over he’d never taken them down there. It had taken one sunny day of driving Phoebe around to garage sales to open it to her.
How quickly she had found a way into his home, his shop and his heart. But none of that mattered. He would never be able to be there for her as she needed. She deserved someone who could open his heart completely. Hold nothing back. Be there for her for the long haul. He wouldn’t invest in people that way after he had he’d lost so many of them. He couldn’t take the chance of going there again. It was better to let her go now.
Ryan turned off the light, removed his clothes but didn’t bother to pull the covers back before he lay on the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and put his arm over his eyes. All he could see was the confusion, then disappointment and pain in Phoebe’s eyes.
Had he ever been happier than he had been in the last few weeks? When had he last thought about even being happy? It certainly hadn’t been for a long time. He could remember that emotion. A few times when he’d been a kid. But he’d recognized happiness when Phoebe had kissed him on the cheek. Or when they had watched the little penguins waddle out of the water to take care of their chicks, or the look on Phoebe’s face when she’d looked down at him as they’d become one. Because of her he’d known true happiness.
He hadn’t realized how he’d shut out the world until she had shown up on his doorstep, leaving him no choice but to rejoin it again. He’d carried the pain of war, the agony of trying to help men and women whose lives would never be the same, bottled up until Phoebe had started asking questions. He’d talked more about his time in the war in the last few weeks than he’d done in the last ten years. The more he’d told her the easier it had become to talk about those times. Now it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. After he’d returned from a difficult mission, he’d been required to talk to the shrink. He’d never thought it useful. Thanks to Phoebe, he was starting to see a value in not holding those memories in.
All this didn’t matter anyway. He’d hurt Phoebe so badly today that even if he tried to have a relationship with her she would close the door in his face. No, it was better this way.
Phoebe leaned her head against the glass window of the tram. The clack of the cars made a rhythm that would have lulled her to sleep if her emotions hadn’t been jumping like balls in a pinball machine. She fluctuated between disbelief and anger.
How had she let Ryan matter so much? Worse, how had she been misled by him?
He had made her believe he cared. It hadn’t only been his lovemaking but the way he’d thought of little things to help her. Painting the baby’s room, going with her to garage sales, massaging her feet. Her back. In just a few weeks he had done more for her and with her than Joshua had done during their entire marriage.
So what had happened to make Ryan do such an about-face?
Had she pushed too hard? Assumed things she shouldn’t? Had making plans for them to eat together, see each other scared him off?
When she heard her stop called she prepared to get off. She still had a few blocks to walk before she made it home. She was tired. Didn’t even plan to eat anything before going to bed. If Ryan knew he would scold her. Maybe not, after what she’d experienced today.
Slipping her key into the lock a few minutes later, she opened the door. She entered and turned on the light. How different this homecoming had been from the one she had imagined. She’d hoped that Ryan would bring her home and stay the night. That bubble had been completely popped.
Phoebe kicked her shoes off. She chuckled dryly. The action made her think of Ryan dropping his clothes inside his door. Making her way to her bedroom, she turned on her bedside lamp, then undressed. She slid between the sheets and leaned over to turn the light off. The picture of her and Joshua caught her attention.
Had the fact that she was carrying Joshua’s baby been the reason Ryan had suddenly slammed the door between them? Was the baby too much of a reminder that she would always be tied to Joshua? Or was it that they represented the painful loss of Joshua? Or the other men that Ryan had seen die. In some way they must be part of the past he worked so hard to shut out or forget.
Sliding the drawer out of the bedside table, Phoebe pulled out the crumpled letter Joshua had sent her. Opening it, she smoothed it out on the bed before reading it. Had Joshua known he wasn’t coming home when he had written it? Had he known he was leaving on a dangerous patrol like Ryan had described? Even after they had discussed separating, had he wanted her to be happy, to find someone else? Had he thought Ryan might be that person?
Whatever it was, she’d done as Joshua had said and gone to Ryan. Joshua had been right. There she’d found the piece of her life that had been missing all these years. Moisture filled her eyes. But Ryan didn’t want her. Once again she was on her own. Would she ever find a real partner in life?
Turning off the light, she curled around her baby. At least this little one would be someone to love who would return it.
Sunday afternoon there was a knock at the door.
Her heart leaped. Was it Ryan?
Phoebe answered it to find Mrs. Rosenheim waiting on the veranda. Phoebe’s spirits dropped like a person falling off a bridge. Had she really expected it to be Ryan?
“Hello, dear. I was just checking on you. I’ve not seen you all weekend. Didn’t want you to have that baby and me not know about it.”
“I’m right here. No baby yet.” She didn’t want any company. How could she get rid of her neighbor gracefully?
“From the sound and look of you, something else is going on.” Mrs. Rosenheim brushed past Phoebe into the living room.
Phoebe really didn’t feel up to dealing with the older woman. She wanted to wallow in her misery alone.
“I haven’t seen that nice young man around.”
That was all it took for Phoebe to burst into tears.
“My goodness, it’s all that bad?” Mrs. Rosenheim patted her on the arm. “Why don’t you fix us some tea and tell me all about it?”
Phoebe swiped at her cheek, then nodded. Maybe it would be good to tell someone about what had happened.
As she put the kettle on and prepared the cups, Phoebe told Mrs. Rosenheim about how she’d met Ryan.
“Well, at least that absent husband of yours did one thing to show he cared,” Mrs. Rosenheim murmured.
“Joshua cared—”
Mrs. Rosenheim waved her hand. “Let’s not argue about that. So, what put you in this tizzy about Ryan?”
Phoebe placed a teacup in front of Mrs. Rosenheim and one in front of the chair across from her. She wouldn’t sit in Ryan’s chair. How quickly he had become a central part of her life.
Phoebe told her about how Ryan had acted during her clinic visit. During the entire explanation Mrs. Rosenheim sipped her tea and nodded.
“Sounds scared to me. So what do you plan to do?”
“Do? What can I do?”
“Yes, do. You’re getting ready to have a baby. Do you want to bring a baby into the world feeling that kind of discord? Go and make Ryan explain himself. Tell him how you feel.”
Phoebe sighed. “You’re right. I need to talk him. Get the air cleared. I was so shocked and hurt by his actions that I’ve not been able to think.”
“Then I suggest that you make yourself presentable and give that man a piece of your mind.”
Ryan already had her heart, he might as well get part of her mind. If things stayed the way they were, she would lose him. To move on she needed answers, and those could only come from Ryan.