Lizzy crawled closer. “Ryan said you weren’t dead, just sleeping. I guess you were really tired.”
“That’s right.” Her voice sounded husky. “Tired. And worried, because the door was open and you were gone.”
“I wanted to dig in the sand. I wanted to use my pink bucket.”
“I know. I should have done it with you, then you wouldn’t have felt as if you had to do it on your own. Next time I want you to ask me.” She looked exhausted, drained, and Ryan could see the effort it took her to put her own feelings second and reassure the child.
He encouraged Lizzy to go back into the garden with Cocoa. The resilience of children never ceased to amaze him. He knew it would be a long time until he forgot the raw fear in Emily’s face as she’d sprinted across the sand to grab Lizzy. He could still feel the way her body had trembled against his, the way her fingers had dug into his shoulders.
Guilt chafed, like sand in a shoe. “I never should have bought that damn bucket.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s all me.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I had a bad night. Slept late.” She lay against the cushions, pale and exhausted. “When I woke, the house was quiet. And then I came downstairs and saw the chair by the shelves.”
“Yeah, I saw that. I assumed you’d done it.”
“No. I put the bucket out of reach because I was afraid she might grab it and take it to the beach.”
“And she did.”
“I saw the front door open. All I saw was the sea and I thought—I thought—” Anxious, she shot to her feet and swayed. “You’re sure the front door is locked?”
“Yes, and the key is in my pocket.” He wondered if she knew her pajamas were virtually see-through when she stood in front of the light. He could see the fluid curves of her body through the thin fabric. “Sit down, Emily.”
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t. He wanted to peel off those pajamas and explore every inch of that creamy skin with his mouth. “Sit down before you fall.”
She sank back onto the sofa and closed her eyes. “I should have hidden the key. I put her at risk.”
“Risk of what?”
“She’s six years old, Ryan.”
“I sense this isn’t a generic risk we’re talking about. I’d like to understand what sent you flying across the sand like a champion sprinter.”
“I was trying to reach her. Trying to stop her going in the water. It’s my job to protect her.”
“Why would she have gone into the water?” He cast his mind back. “She was digging. She wasn’t interested in the water.”
“Children love the water.”
And he knew from her bloodless cheeks that the issue here wasn’t the bucket or even the fact that Lizzy had left the house. It was the sea. The sea was the reason she spent her time in the kitchen. The reason she sat with her back to the water and didn’t want to go out in his boat.
“Talk to me.” He kept his voice gentle. “Tell me what that was all about, because we both know it wasn’t about Lizzy.”
She curled her legs under her. “You’re right, it isn’t about her. It’s about me. I’m not the right person.”
“The right person for what?”
“To be looking after a child.”
He remembered feeling the same way, even though in his case the real burden had fallen on his grandmother. “I know all this has come as a shock to you. You haven’t had time to get used to the idea that you’re her guardian, but you will.”
“You don’t understand.”