“Why would he call you?”
He couldn’t believe she’d asked that question. “I guess he heard the rumor that you’d left my apartment wearing the same dress you’d worn to dinner and thought I might like to know.” If she’d picked up on the dig that she should have been the one to call him, there were no visible signs of it.
“He was brave. Please, thank him from me.”
“He’s a gifted pilot.”
She didn’t argue. “Does Brittany know that he’s back on the island yet?”
“I don’t know. I still haven’t told her. Who knows how long he’ll stay, and she isn’t here anyway, so why bring it up?” The last time he’d interfered with their relationship he’d made things worse. “Why the hell are we talking about Zach and Brittany? They’re both old enough to sort out their own relationship. The fact that they don’t is their business, not ours. Are you going to drink that coffee?”
She sipped mindlessly and pulled a face. “You put sugar in it?”
“You need the energy, and this stuff tastes disgusting with or without sugar. When did you last eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He was willing to bet she hadn’t slept, either. Looking at the dark shadows under her eyes, he decided she was too tired to be able to decide whether to move forward or backward.
She’d been going through torture, and she’d been going through it alone.
Anger and frustration simmered beneath his own layers of tension. “Hell, Emily, why didn’t you call me? We’re friends.”
Her gaze flickered to his and away again. “We are friends. And as a friend, I respect your boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” He lowered his voice. “You talk to me a
bout boundaries after what we did in bed together the other night?”
“That’s different. This was a problem, and it wasn’t yours to deal with.”
She was the one who was different, and he had no idea why. Was it tiredness? The stress and anxiety of coping alone? Worry about Lizzy?
He decided the hospital was driving them both crazy, and the sooner he got them both home to Puffin Island, the better.
*
THEY KEPT LIZZY in the hospital for another twenty-four hours.
Despite Emily’s protestations, Ryan insisted on returning the following morning to drive them back to the island.
She’d suffered another sleepless night, but this time her concerns were for herself as well as Lizzy. How had she managed to fall in love? She didn’t understand how it had happened. All she knew was that she had to reverse the feeling fast. She had to fall out of love with him, and, more important, she had to help Lizzy fall out of love with him, too.
“So, the final verdict was a virus?” He slid behind the wheel. “Virus is a word doctors use when they don’t have a clue what’s going on.”
Exhausted, Emily fought the urge to rest her throbbing head against those wide shoulders.
“They don’t really know what it was, but it wasn’t meningitis, and she’s on the mend, so that’s all that matters.”
Now that the immediate panic about Lizzy had passed, she knew she had to think about the future. She’d woken up to the mistakes she’d made. Her mind was trying to make sense of it all, but the stress of the past few days caught up with her, and the smooth purr of the engine rocked her to sleep.
She woke as they drove off the ferry along with carloads of summer visitors.
John, the harbormaster, waved them over, and Ryan pulled up.
“She’s doing fine, John.”
“Good to know.” Needing to check for himself, John stepped forward and looked at Lizzy. The smile spread along his weathered face. “We missed you, pumpkin. Ryan has been keeping us updated. Wait there. I have something for you.” He vanished into his hut and emerged moments later holding a miniature version of the ferry, handmade and beautifully carved. “I’ve called her the Captain Lizzy. I made it in my workshop.”