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His presence shocked her and brought her up short. Then, she remembered that she had asked Miss Lana to start repairs on the souvenir shop so she could get started with her business as soon as she arrived. She’d given some of the precious money she had made from selling Goldie to invest in repairs, trusting Miss Lana because her gram said she could.
Gram had said that Miss Lana was a good friend, but all Dakota remembered from those summers long ago was the horses and the beach...and Ryan.
“Excuse me. I’m the owner.”
The man, stubble on his chin and a ball cap low over his eyes, stood at the top of the ladder, staring at her. When she introduced herself, it was punctuated by a crash, which Dakota realized was him dropping his spackling tool.
“Dakota?” He said her name tentatively.
Maybe that was what clued her in. Maybe it was the timbre of his voice. It had been years, and with the low ball cap and the stubble, she didn’t recognize him right away. But that tone. It still sent shivers up her spine. Good shivers, and bad ones.
The very person she was hoping to not meet happened to be the first person she did.
“Ryan.” She wanted to be calm, cool, and collected. To walk right by him without a second glance. To not let him know how his presence affected her. To shove the memories aside and focus on all the things that she needed to do, but she wasn’t able to do that. “You’re here.”
“Yeah. I’m supposed to be. My mom said I was supposed to fix this up for the new owner... I guess that’s you.”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“I peed my pants. Don’t be mad, Mommy. I told you I had to go.” Rachel started to cry.
Dakota’s mouth was dry, she could hardly function, and those words seemed to come from a long ways away. “Sorry, sweetie. It’s all my fault.”
Of all the times she dreamed about meeting Ryan again, this was not one of the scenarios she had imagined.
“Excuse me,” she said, feeling like she needed to say something to Ryan because he was still staring at her with his mouth open like he’d seen a ghost.
She felt like she had. Maybe he felt the same way.
Regardless, she couldn’t stand around. She had a daughter with wet pants who was crying and thinking she was in big trouble. Or maybe embarrassed. Or a combination of both.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab your suitcase that has your clean clothes in it, then we’ll go find a restroom.”
“I wanted to go. You wouldn’t stop. Now I’m all wet. It’s your fault.” Her daughter’s voice raised with each sentence, until it became a wail and she started sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the floor.
Exhausted from the trip, already frazzled because she didn’t know what she was going to do, Dakota didn’t know what else to do except go outside and get the suitcase. She wanted to stand in the middle of the floor and cry too.
But that had never solved anything. She’d done a lot of crying after she found out she was pregnant and even more after she married Gregory and realized what a mistake she’d made. Regret lived big and large, and the knowledge that she was going to be living a lie, unless she admitted to Gregory that she was carrying another man’s baby.
In her youthful stupidity and inconsideration and foolishness, she had never done that, even though the information lay hot and heavy on her throughout their short marriage.
She couldn’t blame Gregory entirely for the destruction of their marriage, although he had been the one who had cheated and left her.
Maybe he’d known deep down that she would never really care for him.
Grabbing the suitcase, she hurried back in, where her daughter still stood in the middle of the floor crying. She tried to grab her hand and pull her along, but Rachel dug her feet in and wouldn’t budge. This was the kind of dramatics that Rachel was famous for. It was just Dakota’s luck that she would choose right now to do it.
Ryan had come down off the ladder and picked up his spackling tool, but had been standing in the middle of the floor, seemingly indecisive as to whether or not he should go over and try to comfort the crying girl, and there was no doubt his look held relief as she walked in.
“I’m sorry to bother you. We’ll try to stay in the living quarters.” She had to yell to be heard over her daughter, and whatever Ryan said was lost in the angry screams of her little girl.
Finally, Dakota didn’t know what else to do except put her arm around her daughter and pick her up. As soon as she did, Rachel wrapped her legs around Dakota’s waist and pressed her wet body against Dakota, soaking them both.
Dakota had been hoping not to have to change her clothes, but that was pointless as well.
She needed the restroom, she needed more suitcases, she needed...a double dose of some kind of very strong pain medicine and a comfortable bed, but she had to make the bed first. If there even was one. She had to feed her girls, had to do a hundred things on a list a mile long.
Just once, just once in her life, she would really appreciate it if things would work out.
