Unexpectedly Hers(39)
“Asked him, or commanded?” Her damn composure remained distant and efficient. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like he’s excited about being part of this production or by what you’re doing.”
That jab landed like a punch to the jaw. She’d known Ryder for less than forty-eight hours. He’d known him for a lifetime. What the hell did she know, and yet, she had utter confidence in her conclusion. “For a girl who hides away in this inn under baggy clothes, you sure aren’t shy with your opinions, are you, Emma?”
“If you don’t want them, don’t ask for them. You came into my space, not the other way around.” She dipped her hand in to scoop another bit of the rum ball mixture. “But before you go, has it occurred to you that maybe seeing you getting back into competition hasn’t just scared Ryder, maybe it’s made him jealous? Maybe watching you doing something he’ll probably never be able to do—not even for pleasure—makes him feel that loss more keenly?”
Wyatt’s body practically recoiled at that thought. Ryder had liked boarding, much to their mother’s chagrin. He’d wanted to be part of this world back then, so why not now? Just because he couldn’t compete didn’t mean he couldn’t still participate in a meaningful way. Perhaps Ryder didn’t believe it yet, but by the end of this film he would—unless Wyatt was totally wrong. His face must’ve reflected the discomfort he felt, because Emma stopped working and looked at him now, her expression suddenly full of empathy.
“Wyatt, I don’t doubt your intentions where Ryder’s concerned. It’s obvious you love him and only want to help. All I’m suggesting is that perhaps the best way to help him move forward is to let him build a new life that isn’t tied to yours, or to the sport you two shared before his injuries changed his life. I know his accident changed your life, too. But his is altered in ways neither of us can truly comprehend.”
Now it was Wyatt’s turn to avert his eyes. Emma’s perception of Ryder had shaken Wyatt almost as much as the damned avalanche. No. He knew his brother. They shared a whole life together. He’d bet everything that, deep down, Ryder still wanted to be part of it. Just like with the physical therapy, Wyatt would push his brother to surpass everyone’s expectations. It worked then, and it’d work now.
He didn’t want to do or say anything more to Emma, nor did he want any more of her analysis. Enough. All he’d wanted from this evening had been a little flirtation and relaxation. Now he felt like he’d run the gauntlet and lost.
Wyatt stripped his latex gloves off and tossed them in the trash. “It’s been a helluva long day. I need to rest.”
He didn’t look at her face before turning away and stalking out of the kitchen.
Chapter Seven
Emma threw the van into park in front of the care center. The Old English Tudor brick structure, with its cream-colored portico, looked quite charming amid the snow-laden fir trees. Its dining hall and many of the residents’ rooms were located in the rear of the building, affording magnificent, long-range views of the craggy peaks of the San Juan Mountains. All things considered, this eldercare residence had its perks.
Her mind projected years ahead, to when she might call this place home. Given the state of her life so far—no siblings, nieces or nephews, or children of her own, and no prospects—she might find herself quite alone in her golden years. Alone and patiently waiting each week for a volunteer to keep her company, to ask about her past, to offer to play a hand of cards.
A touch of despair tickled its way down her spine, which she brushed away like an unwelcome spider.
Mari’s van pulled in beside Emma, toting Wyatt and the crew. Each time she recalled last night’s conversation with Wyatt—the lies feigning disinterest, the secrets she kept while judging his behavior—she wished she could disappear or fast-forward to the end of the month. Anything at all to avoid seeing him.
Of course, she’d faced him this morning at breakfast. To his credit, he’d been polite. She suspected he’d wanted to beg off coming to the care center, but once Emma got the go-ahead from the center’s director, Mari had been convinced it would yield documentary gold.
Mari, however, was the least of Emma’s concerns. Her most immediate problem: she simply detested this version of herself.
Three days ago, she’d been a normal person. A woman who’d fashioned a quiet, respectable life around a set of values that ensured she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. A rational woman who’d been eagerly anticipating an exciting—if secret—new chapter in her life. Then Wyatt had arrived, and she’d turned into a freak. A wary, judgy freak who kept butting her nose into the Lawson brothers’ business, which she had no right to do. Worse, she’d become a freak who suddenly didn’t feel as certain about all of her beliefs.