Free Ryan's Return by Barbara Freethy

resentment went so deep."
    "Surely Andrew told you how much he hates me?"
    "No, he didn't tell me. Because frankly, Ryan, Andrew doesn't talk about you at all, and neither does your father. I read about you at the library. That's where I got the idea to invite you. When I tentatively mentioned your name to Andrew one day, he just said the two of you didn't get along. But you're brothers, and I guess I thought that deep down, no matter what had come between you, you could resolve your differences and be a family again."
    He looked at her in astonishment. "Now who's the dreamer?"
    "Okay, so I have a tendency to believe the best about people. It's a bad habit, and I'm trying to break it." She tilted her head to one side. "You'd think I would have learned by now. I've certainly had a lot of people disappoint me."
    "So have I." He sent her a pointed look. "It's not too late for me to go, Kara. I can leave tonight."
    "No." The answer burst out of her before she could even consider the consequences.
    "Are you sure?"
    Their eyes met. Her heart quickened.
    "The people in this town need you, Ryan."
    "They don't need me."
    "They do. They just don't know it yet."
    He shook his head. "No matter what the press release says, I'm a photographer, Kara, not a hero. Don't try to make me into one."

     

Chapter Six
     
    "Ryan Hunter is not a hero. He's a murderer," Margaret Woodrich declared, her statement bringing utter silence to the centennial committee meeting. There were more than thirty people present in the high school auditorium, with the committee members seated at the head table and the rest of the townsfolk in folding chairs.
    The meeting had barely begun. In fact, Kara had had difficulty bringing the group to order. Even with repeated strokes of her gavel, Kara had only gotten the attention of a couple of people.
    But this woman, this plain, sharp, homely woman, had done what Kara could not: She had silenced the crowd. Because Margaret Woodrich was Becky Lee Woodrich's mother, and it was doubtful that anyone in town disliked Ryan Hunter more than she did.
    Now that the group was silent, Margaret looked nervous. She held her black leather purse against her waist like a shield and rocked back and forth. She didn't seem to know what to say next, glancing down at her companions for help.
    Beverly Appleborne sat on one side of her. As the wife of the town's only doctor, Beverly was the closest thing Serenity Springs had to a queen. Jeremy Woodrich, Margaret's husband, sat on the other side, a brooding man who ran the local bookstore, a man who hadn't spoken much since his one and only daughter had died.
    Kara cleared her throat. She couldn't allow Margaret to take over the meeting. She couldn't let these people, no matter how deep their pain, destroy the centennial. She had already sent out press releases announcing Ryan's involvement. Reservations and bookings for the dinner had increased by fifty percent since Ryan had accepted her invitation to come home.
    Because he had been interviewed several times on talk shows across the country, and because his last collection of photos had made the best-seller list, Ryan was even better known than Kara had realized.
    She'd been expecting flak from Margaret Woodrich and some of the others in town ever since she'd told the committee Ryan had accepted her invitation. But apparently neither Mrs. Woodrich nor Mrs. Appleborne had really thought he'd come, because they hadn't said anything until now. Now that it was too late.
    "The centennial committee has already approved the plans for tomorrow night's dinner," Kara declared, refusing to look at the other committee members, who also seemed to be avoiding her eyes. She sought out Andrew in the audience, but he was picking lint off the sleeve of his shirt. No support there.
    "You had no right," Beverly Appleborne declared, rising to her feet. "This issue should have been discussed publicly before an invitation was offered. I realize you're an outsider,